Tears obliterate my vision as I drive; my thoughts are a jumbled mass of confusion and fear. I keep asking myself how this could be happening, even though I intrinsically know the answer, I just I refuse to articulate it.
I'm struggling to think clearly, the one-two punch that I've received today has left my world crumbling around me. I loudly admonish myself as my tears start anew, I need to hold it together, at least until I reach my destination.
I nearly sideswipe the car alongside me as I pull into the parking space. My brisk walk turns into a frantic dash as I let out a strangled sob, the letter tightly clenched in my hand.
Rosalie emerges from the kitchenette, holding two mugs just as I all but lurch into her reception area, which thankfully is empty. She quickly sets them down on the desk and hurries over to me.
"It's all right, Bella. It's going to be all right," she chants as she pulls me into a hug and leads me into her office where she gently pushes me into a chair.
"Here, sip this."
She says calmly as she returns to her office with the mugs. I wrap my shaky hands around the warmth and take a sip.
"Oh God, what am I going to do?" I wail as she turns to shut the door.
"First, you're going to hand me that mug, because you look like you're about to drop it, and then you're going to take a deep breath and tell me exactly what's happened. You weren't making any sense when you called."
Not trusting myself not to start bawling again, I hand her the letter and pace the floor in front of her while she reads.
"What the hell is this?" She waggles the letter at me.
"Maybe you should read it again." I scoff; tears once again spilling down my cheeks.
"No, I meantwho the hell would file a complaint against you?"
"I'm spoilt for choice really! Where would you like me to start?"
"But why?" She moves to stop my pacing. "It makes no sense, Bella. This letter claims unprofessional conduct. That charge could never legitimately be made against you, it's not possible."
I scrub my hands over my face and laugh wryly. "I wouldn't be so sure, Rose."
"Okay, stop it, Bella. I know you've been doing this 'mea culpa' thing, but I won't listen to any more of it." She pulls my hands from my face and gives me a stern shake.
"You don't understand, Rosalie!" I sob. "I've tried to help them, and still these women appear to have some vendetta against me; Victoria, Lauren, Angela fucking Newton!"
I spit her name, damn her. She did this; in fact, they've all probably had a hand in it. They'd all like to see my life ruined.
"Bella, sweetie, please calm down. I know you're upset, but this may all be a misunderstanding. I know that since running into Lauren you've been waiting for the other shoe to drop, but you don't really think that someone would deliberately try and have you lose your license do you?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying. You weren't there; you didn't hear or see either Lauren or Angela. You didn't hear them, Rosalie.
'I won't have to lift a finger for you to get what you deserve.'
'I hope that you get to face the consequences of your actions one day soon, Doctor Swan; and when you do, remember the advice you gave me today.'
Their words and those damned photos are indelibly imprinted in my memory. I cover my face with my hands.
"How could I have been so stupid? I should have known better. Oh, dear God, I did this!"
"Bella, come on. You have to breathe. Listen to me." She pulls me into a comforting embrace, but I pull away.
"You don't understand, Rosalie, this is all my fault. I did this to myself…" My voice breaks. "I wanted him. I should have stayed away from him!"
"What the hell are you on about, Bella?"
I pull out my phone and find the email. She's uncharacteristically silent as she stares unblinkingly at the screen.
"Someone sent them to me."
"These photos…"
"There are about ten emails from the same sender, all with attachments, and I'm tooterrified to open the rest."
She repeatedly scans through the pictures, and finally places her hand on her forehead.
"Son of a bitch," she murmurs and shakes her head in despair.
"I wanted him, Rose, and look at what it's cost me."
.
.
.
I enter the foyer quietly and gently place my keys on the table. The house is in darkness except for a dim light coming from upstairs. The house looks unchanged since my departure this morning. He must've come home and literally gone straight to bed.
My head is still reeling. I've spent most of the day and evening crying on Rosalie's shoulder, before she finally convinced me to come home and talk to Edward. She promised that things would make more sense and seem less dire once I did, but I doubt that anything could improve the way I feel right now.
He has his back turned to me, and believing him to be unaware of my presence, I watch him from the doorway.
"Long day at work?" He turns around to face me.
"The usual." My voice croaks.
"Me too. I'm sorry, I didn't get a chance to call you all day."
"Same here, I was a little too preoccupied to talk." I look down, unwilling to have him see my despondency.
"I thought that must be the case, when I didn't hear from you. I came home, showered and had the leftover chicken. I wanted to get to bed and get some sleep, but then I noticed that you hadn't finished unpacking.
I took the liberty of doing that for you, I hope you don't mind," he opens a drawer.
"I found these." He holds up an item in each hand. "You've been holding out on me," he teases.
I exhale loudly and finally enter the bedroom. I try to retrieve the garments, but he holds them out of my reach.
"Edward, I really don't feel like…"
"I know, and as much as I want to see you in this lacy, red number, I thought that something else might be more appropriate. Come with me." He takes my hand and leads me to the bathroom.
The room is softly candle-lit, the tub practically filled to the rim with bubbles.
"Edward…what…"
"Shhh…I know you've been a little on edge, I want to help you unwind." He starts to unbutton my blouse.
I still feel shell-shocked, and I don't know where or how to start telling him about any of it. I watch him as he undresses me. I hope that at some point, I'll find a way to broach the subject.
He slowly peels my stockings down my legs, and I help by stepping out of my shoes. He looks up and smiles at me gently.
"Come." He leads me over to the tub and helps me to step inside. I slink down into the welcome warmth as he gathers my hair and ties it up.
"Edward…"
"Just relax." His voice, like the water, is warm and soothing. The fragrance gently wafting up from the tub is almost hypnotic.
"What have you put in the water?"
"Vanilla and a little lavender." He kisses my cheek softly, his warm breath caressing the shell of my ear, and then he disappears.
Without his presence, the feeling of being overwhelmed returns. Edward is being so caring; I can't bring myself to raise the events of the day with him right now.
Soft music fills the room, the lights dim, and he returns.
"Feeling more relaxed?"
"You've gone to so much trouble. Thank you."
I keep my head lowered as I ghost my fingers along the bubbles. If I look at him now, while I'm feeling this fragile, I'll fall apart, and I don't want to do that.
The sound of his zipper reverberates makes me look up.
"What are you doing?"
He sheds his clothing and eases in behind me.
"Close your eyes, sweetheart."
As always, my body responds to his voice, and I melt into him. He caresses my skin beneath the water, and despite the turmoil I'm feeling, he manages to stroke away my anxiety.
The two missives is like the sword of Damocles, looming over us, threatening our happiness; but I can't find it in me to ruin this. I just want to drink it in, savor this moment before I blow our lives apart.
He kneads my thighs softly, as he kisses my neck; the music accentuates the sultry mood. His long, expert fingers continue their path, gliding up my midsection and my breasts. I let out a sigh of contentment.
"You like that?"
I don't respond, I don't trust myself to not destroy the mood. All I want is to feel his hands on me, and for him to never stop.
I cover his hands with mine and guide them under the water, as I part my legs. I feel him hardening against my lower back as our joined fingers find their way inside my body.
.
.
.
We lie facing each other on the bed, troubled amber eyes to turbulent storm green. I can't be sure if he senses that something's amiss, but his eyes are filled with conflicting emotions. Since leaving the bathroom, he's been as quiet as me.
I have so much to say and so many questions to ask, but I feel choked by fear. I dread what he'd have to say about the photos; and he would most assuredly convince himself that he's the cause of that damnable complaint having been lodged, when in fact I knew exactly what I was getting myself into.
He blinks slowly, and I can tell that he's overcome by fatigue. He's worked exceedingly long shifts lately, which is probably another reason he has not called me out on my introspection of late.
"I love you," he whispers, a small smile playing across his lips, before his eyes flutter closed.
My breath shudders. Tears trickle down the bridge of my nose as I gently trace his striking features, his closed eyes, their ever-expressive green now shut off to me, his fine, straight nose and finally, his well-defined, full lips. His mouth parts slightly as his slumber deepens.
I lean my forehead to his and let the tears flow freely. I let out a quiet sob as I whisper, "I love you."
.
.
.
I wake with a start, feeling as if I'm weighed down by a two-ton weight on my chest. Edward is still sleeping peacefully beside me. I focus my gritty eyes on the bedside clock. It's five-thirty a.m., and I've only slept fitfully after hours of agonizing over things and silently crying.
I crawl out of bed, careful not to wake him. Instead of going into the en suite bathroom, I quietly gather some clothes from the closet and make my way to the guest room.
Once showered and dressed, I tiptoe back into the master bedroom and grab my shoes and some more garments from the closet. I stop to stare at Edward, and my heart lurches as I watch him. He's so beautiful, and despite the confusion of feelings churning inside of me, I can't deny the overwhelming love I feel for this man. I make my way downstairs and hastily grab my handbag and briefcase. Feeling like a thief in the night, I surreptitiously make my way out of the house.
.
.
.
I feel no better at work and avoid as much contact with Leah as possible. She's a sweet person and worries about anything at the drop of a hat. When she worries, she tends to ask a lot of questions, and I'm sure as hell not prepared to discuss my problems with her.
"Doctor Swan, your last patients have rescheduled." She knocks and pokes her head around the door.
"The Mitchell's." I nod in understanding.
"Yes, Mr. Mitchell called and advised that they needed to reschedule. I've rebooked them for next Friday. I hope that was all right?"
"That's fine, Leah."
She frowns and enters.
"It's nearly twelve, and you don't have any more patients scheduled for today. What do you say to an early lunch, I could go and get us something really yummy, my treat?"
"I'm not hungry, but you go out and have a lovely lunch. In fact, you've worked really hard lately; take the rest of the day off. Nothing much will be happening around here, and I can easily take the odd phone call."
"Are you sure you don't want anything? There's this new restaurant that opened up a little while ago. They have the most delicious lobster rolls, I could get you something before I leave."
"I know of the place, and I'm fine. Go on, Leah, and I'll see you tomorrow." I open my laptop and begin typing, but she doesn't move.
"Is there anything else, Leah?"
"I just…I was just wondering if you're all right? You seem bothered by something."
"I'm fine, Leah."
"You don't seem fine, Bella. In fact you seem…"
"I'm fine, Leah." She's startled by my tone, and I instantly regret being so terse.
"I apologize. I didn't mean to sound cross. I'm just dealing with some personal matters."
"It's okay, and I didn't mean to pry."
"I know. You should go and enjoy the rest of the day." I see her to the door.
"Bella…if you ever want to talk about anything, I'm here."
I force a smile and thank her as she leaves.
"Damn it!" I remove my glasses and press my forehead against the cold surface of my desktop.
My office phone rings.
"What is it, Leah?"
"Edward's on the line. He says he's been trying to reach you, but your phone keeps going to voicemail. I'll put him through."
"Leah, please tell him that I'm with a patient."
"But..."
"Thank you, Leah." I say firmly.
.
.
Rosalie stares at me as if I've finally taken leave of my senses, and in a way she's right. I had temporarily lost sight of certain things, but now I need to reclaim what I can of my life.
She finally finds her voice. "What the hell are you talking about, Bella. What are you thinking?" She jumps up and paces the floor agitatedly; she swings around to face me, her hair whipping around with the speed at which she moves.
"No, correction, you're not thinking at all. Bella, why haven't you talked to Edward about this? I'm sure he'll put things into perspective. How can you just make this decision without having at least talked to him?"
"I've made up my mind. He'll just convince me that it will blow over, that it can be fixed. But the fact of the matter is, it can't just be 'fixed'. I will always be reminded of this, while I'm here, while I'm with him."
"Jesus, Bella, you're supposed to be the relationship expert, and you're choosing to overlook the fundamental premise of being in a relationship. You need to trust your partner, Bella. How many times have you counseled your patients to be honest with their partners, I'm sure that you've told Edward that more than once. And now you can't even follow your own advice?" Her voice rises incredulously.
"Rosalie, please..." I angrily fight back my tears, annoyed with myself for losing control, yet again. I'm so sick of crying, one wouldn't think that a person my size could have that much fluid inside of them.
"Just listen, really listen to what I'm saying. I need to get away from here. I know that I have to face the situation with the AMA, and I will. I'll work this out with Celeste Daniels, and we'll deal with it, but I really can't face much more than that right now."
"So, what do you want me to do, Bella? You want me to lie to Edward, you want me lie to Emmett as well, now?
"I'm not asking you to lie to Emmett Rose, not even to Edward. All I'm asking you to do is to not tell him where I am."
"How long do you think you can hide from him, Bella?"
"Rose..." I implore, but she cuts me off.
"Shit, Bella, all I'm trying to do here is help you."
"Well it sure doesn't sound like it to me, Rosalie," I snap angrily."
"Look, I know you're upset and scared, but what you're doing is not helping, despite what you may think. I don't agree with what you're planning."
"I'm not asking you to agree with me. As my best friend, I'm asking you to support me."
She looks at me, and I think I see tears gathering. Rosalie never cries; and another round of guilt assaults me. She exhales loudly.
"Fine, Bella. Tell me what you need me to do."
I walk over and hug her. She wraps her arms around me, and we stand there for a long time, just holding onto each other.
.
.
.
I stare blankly into space, oblivious to the noise and bustle around me, my head swarming with thoughts of Edward. I recall the first time we met, the beautiful, once cocky anathema that I instantly loathed, and whom despite everything I know about him, I've come to love. I think about the things I'd chosen to overlook because of that growing love. This however, no matter how much I'm conflicted by it, how much I've agonized over it, I just can't turn a blind eye to.
I feel indescribable hurt. I already feel the loss of him, and I'm sure it's not going to get better any time soon, but I 've finally stopped fooling myself that things will look brighter in the morning. They won't.
I watch a young couple run into each other's arms, and I remember what it feels like to feel that way, carefree, not a worry in the world; reveling in shared happiness. Tears spill over as I mourn the loss of that feeling.
He caresses her face and stares into her eyes before kissing her deeply, exactly the way Edward does before he kisses me. I watch them walk hand-in-hand until they disappear from my view. I snivel as I realize that I'll never feel Edward kiss me that way again, that we'll never walk hand in hand again.
"Excuse me miss, are you okay?"
"Oh…yes. Don't mind me." I smile wanly at the young man next to me.
"You remind me of my mother… um...not that you're as old as my mother." He stammers in embarrassment, flushing brick red.
"It's fine." I laugh lightly as I wipe the tears from my eyes.
"I didn't mean…you're very pretty, beautiful in fact. Shit! I just meant my mom cried when I left for my first year in college."
"I see. What year are you in?"
"I'm a junior at LSU now."
"Good School. What's your major?"
"I'm pre-med, looking to specialize in surgery."
I avert my eyes and try to ignore the painful tug I feel in my chest, "That's um…a really good profession."
"So, are you…with anyone?"
I turn around and stare at him; young, brash, perfect white teeth smiling back at me. I open my mouth to kill any notion he might be harboring, but the announcement heralding the imminent departure of my flight cuts across the terminal.