A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for the reviews; I'm so glad to see a lot of new faces! (names….) You are phenomenal.

Summary: Isabella Swan is the person to go to about love – even though she has virtually no love life of her own…until a drunken blind date lands her married to the sexy Dr. Edward Masen.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

I'm KSWIZZLED on twitter.

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ALTERNATIVEPUNK on blog(dot)com

I am thrilled to announce that this story has been NOMINATED FOR A MYSTIC AWARD. It's up for "Mrs. Perfect" which is an award for a great portrayal of Isabella Marie Swan and also for "The Lamb" which is an award for Best All-Human Story. Thanks to all that nominated! Voting begins on September 29, 2009. www(dot)(dot)com

For more information on how to vote, or to check out the awards site, please check my profile.

To hear an incredibly BIZARE story of my life, go to my profile! Review with your reactions =)

Hopefully you have heard of the disastrous typhoon in Philippines. Well, the story on my profile has to do with it – because I was meant to fly out on September 26, 2009, but due to the crazy typhoon, a whole mess of crap happened. I'm not sure when I can go home anymore – I guess I'm in Philippines for more days than I planned!

As always, Review Responses are at the bottom after the ending A/N. You guys are amazing – I silently wished to hit the 80's mark, and you guys brought me to hit 100! I'm so happy! I could literally break down and cry. We missed a few of my favorite reviewers, but I love seeing new faces, and I want to thank CONFUSED55 for faithfully reviewing my stories.

And hi Lavanya. I'm coming back to school on Thursday, hopefully, and I can't wait to see you guys. When you see this, tell Peter or Avi that I sent them the MUN homework stuff. And tell Mrs. Ruffle I'm sorry for missing school!

Urban Decay

Chapter 9: Rainbow

B

Sacrifices. Nobody wants to make them, but at least once in your life (and probably more) you are forced to. It's human nature. Everybody wants to be happy. Nobody wants to feel pain. But, ever since the beginning of time, you can't have a rainbow without any rain.

When I was in high school, I was always part of the yearbook staff. I always chose the page that required the most writing. My best friend – Cassidy Wale – was always my photographer – and she was one of those people that would rather be behind a camera than in front of it (and I was too, which is why she was pleasantly surprised when she turned on her television and found my face on the screen).

I would write these intricately written, long articles that the teachers would love, but no one would bother to read. The pictures would be candid shots, beautifully taken and perfectly edited – and no one would bother to notice.

All people cared about was finding their faces on one of the pages and gasping, "There I am! I was in the yearbook forty-three times this year!" as if it was an incredible milestone, the epitome of all achievements…Like after having your name mentioned or your picture show up fifty times in the yearbook, they can stop worrying. After having enough pictures in the yearbook, they win life.

And of course, the most important pages of the yearbook are the class pages. Each person worries about their appearance on picture day – is this color too bright, is my makeup too dark, is there something in my teeth, are my nostrils flaring, do I have acne – because it's all that people will remember you for…with an awful individual picture, you have a horrible piece of memorabilia.

Below every picture is a two or three line quote that each person is required to submit – a quote about their lives, a quote about their personalities, or even a quote about something as random as a jelly donut. And every year, I struggled to break my quote short enough to fit the amount of words allowed.

I had a number of quotes I chose for my years – and they all had to do with love. I guess it was a silent omen of what I would do for the rest of my life.

On my senior year of high school, I used a quote related to sacrifices, and how, in the end, that sacrifice could be the reason for your later success. I was part of multiple sport teams – I had always been one of the more coordinated girls at my school, and I wasn't about to try out for cheerleading unless my life depended on it – and I guess that's why my last quote of my last yearbook had something to do with basketball.

Looking back at it now, I chuckle quietly to myself sometimes. The advice I gave back then was so childish and immature compared to how I helped people now.

The harder you fall, the higher you bounce back up.

Don't be afraid to make sacrifices. But don't make one left and right – people will tell you that you're being selfish, but not a single person hasn't been selfish once in their life. Sometimes, you need to take a step back, and think about yourself. You owe it to yourself to worry about your well being once in a while.

I suppose I'm being a hypocrite – I'm not exactly following my advice. I was making sacrifices every second because I felt I owed it to the people and to the things that have helped me in the past. I guess what I'm trying to say is choose your sacrifices carefully. If it's for something you are devoted to, don't be afraid to make those sacrifices. But if it's for something that means little to you, think before you throw everything away.

I made a lot of sacrifices because of the events of Atlantic City. There were a lot of things I didn't want to do, but I chose to do because it determined the fate of my show.

Did I want to move in Edward? No. Did I want my parents and my friends to find out about my marriage because of my abrupt change of living arrangements? No. Did I want to lie to everyone I knew, just for the sake of my career? No.

But I knew I had to, and given a choice, I still would havel chosen to take any necessary precautions to keep my show from crumbling.

Life is full of sacrifices and gifts; sometimes, the sacrifices you make overwhelm the gifts you receive, and there isn't a thing you can do about it. No one said it was going to be easy. They just said it was going to be worth it.

E

It was getting a little embarrassing. I have always been the type of person that would take control of a situation, grab it by its horns, and pull it towards some form of success. At the hospital, when a bloodied patient arrives with sirens blaring and technicians shouting jumbled words about IV bags and dropping vitals, I shove everyone out of my way and wheel them into the ICU. You have to remain calm at times like that, and still have the ability to command the people trying to help you. Never once has someone tried to tell me what to do, instead, I'm instructing them where to put the bags, the tubes, and the needles, and if a respirator is required.

I could command a crowd of fifteen bustling hospital employees to save a life, but I couldn't stand a chance against Bella when it came time to move her things into my large apartment.

After she'd asked me if she could move in, I had hesitated, and I'm sure she saw it. Sure, I was willing to go to some extremes to help her; it was partly my fault that she was in this situation in the first place. But I have always been a simple-minded person – I never liked living in the spotlight, under the heavy glares of people. I went with the simple life, I wanted to establish a career, find the woman I was supposed to spend my life with, and have a family.

I never planned on marrying a famous TV star. I didn't know if I could sacrifice the humble beliefs that my mother taught me over and over again as I was growing up for a woman I'd known for a week and a half. Yes, I shouldn't have hesitated. I should have jumped up and said, "You don't even have to ask that question!" and called the moving people, but I didn't. I sat there for a good ten minutes, just staring at her hopeful face.

After five minutes of having said nothing, her eyes had fallen. I knew instantly that she thought I was going to say no – and to be honest, I wanted to. The idea of living with a stranger was, to put it bluntly, frightening. I take relationships seriously; I don't date off the street or hook up with random strangers (with the exception of Atlantic City, of course). I believe in falling in love and getting married, and staying faithful and devoted.

Moving in with Bella did not fit that bill.

But then, as my lips formed the word 'no' I locked gazes with that haunting look in her eyes. For the first time since I'd met her, she looked defeated and weary; wrinkles were beginning to form on her forehead, and the bags underneath her eyes were more pronounced on her suddenly pale face. She seemed so lost, bewildered because for the first time, the decision was not in her hands. If I said no, she couldn't argue. She couldn't – wouldn't – beg. Her face had fallen, and I felt a sudden pang inside me, because I knew I was the cause of that.

"Yes." I had breathed, my tongue sticking to the top of my mouth. I hadn't meant to say that.

Her eyes brightened considerably, and she lifted her head a little. I could see the overwhelming wave of gratitude shining in her eyes. Her lips had curved up into a hesitant smile, but I could see she was about to laugh with relief. Her cheeks were flushed, but her hands limp, as if a burden was torn off her shoulder.

She had jumped up and thrown herself at me, her arms wound tightly around my neck. She chanted 'thank you' over and over again. Once she realized our slightly awkward position – I was too surprised to return the embrace – she pulled herself away, her cheeks colored with embarrassment. She apologized, but I could still see the thick relief and gratitude radiating off her skin.

So different than she was looking now.

It was three days after we'd agreed to move in together. She was arguing with the moving man, her eyes heated with annoyance.

I pulled her away from him – though he looked scared to death, he had some fight left in him, and he wasn't going to give up. I turned her face to me, looking at her sternly. "Is there something you would like to tell me?" I prompted. "Why are you arguing with that man?"

Her brow was furrowed. "They aren't going to bring some of my things in here, because you live on the top floor, and the service elevator can't take a lot of weight." She said. "I'm trying to force them to bring everything I signed to be moved. They signed the contract days ago, and I had all the things I wanted to be moved listed on the contract. They just won't listen to me."

I sighed. Of course they wouldn't listen to her. She was speaking so quickly, and so brashly, that I doubt they understood what she was saying. "Let me handle it."

I walked to the large man at the doorway. He had a clipboard in his hands, a thick stack of documents attached at the top. "Good afternoon, sir." I greeted, politely. "I understand there is a problem concerning the things being moved to this apartment?"

"Yes, there is." He said. "She did not inform us just how difficult it would be to bring her things here. We did not realize how high up your apartment was, how narrow the stairs are, and of the serious technical problems of the service elevator."

"What are the things she wants to bring up?"

"That's the thing, sir. She wants to bring everything."

"Everything?" I repeated.

"Yes." He sighed. "Everything. Appliances, lighting…you name it."

"I apologize." Was my apartment not good enough for her? "I'll talk to her."

I walked to Bella who was speaking to herself in the corner of the room. "Bella, I think you're overreacting."

"I'm not! This contract was signed, and based upon the laws of this country, they are required to follow through with all promises that they made."

"But you're asking an awful lot."

"That is not asking a lot. I asked for exactly what is expected of me."

"You asked to move all of your things, Bella!" I reminded her. "I can live off the things I have here. I know my furniture and my apartment isn't as extravagant as yours is, but I know you can live here too. It's more than enough."

She huffed. "I need to bring some of my things here…"

"Not the big things though." I allowed. "I have perfectly comfortable couches, and enough surround sound for a whole family."

After a few minutes of quiet arguing, we compromised; she could bring five things of her choice. Anything. The mover nodded, and the time of the actual moving of the objects would be this afternoon, at three o'clock.

Bella was seething with annoyance in my armchair, glaring at all that moved. I had a feeling she wasn't used to not getting what she wanted.

And I knew at that moment that living with Bella wasn't going to be easy.

B

"So you're going to live with him?" Rosalie asked. We were at her apartment, lounging on her recliners and leather couches.

"I guess so." I replied, rubbing my temples.

"That sounds like a good plan." She said dryly, rolling her eyes.

"I didn't have any other choice, Rosalie." I groaned. "I owe it to Jacob and to the show to take any necessary precautions and sacrifices to keep it alive."

Rosalie sighed. "I respect your determination and your devotion to your show, but don't you think these sacrifices are a bit too big?"She raised an eyebrow. "How did Edward react?"

"He was terrified, I think." I said, amusedly. "He looked at me with this blank expression on his face, like he was thinking about something important. I swear he was about to say no. I don't know what made him say yes."

"He probably thinks he owes you for almost ruining your career." She replied. "What else?"

"I feel awful for stepping in on his beliefs." I admitted. "I have a feeling he's a family-oriented type. You know, the person who believes in finding that one person you should spend your life with and settle down and make a family. I can read people easily – I need to be able to read people easily in the business I'm in – and that fact was rolling off his skin in waves."

"I had that feeling too." She replied. "It's funny how you ended up marrying an incredibly good-natured person, who is much too humble for his own good."

"Just my luck." I commented, blankly.

"Do you want to go somewhere, today?" Rosalie asked. "I'm actually supposed to meet a friend of mine at the movies."

"I wish I could, but I need to oversee the moving extravaganza." I sighed.

She rolled her eyes. "You don't need to take care of everything, Bella. Let Edward be in charge of that."

I pursed my lips, "But—"

"No, I'm making the decision for you." She said, sternly. "You're going to have a girls night out with me and Tanya, and we'll spend all night gushing about the various problems we have in our life."

"I don't know, Rosalie."

"But I do. Call Edward up right now. If he's anything like the guys I've dated, he'll just be relieved that he's got some time of his own." She chuckled. "And anyway, you have a tendency to overreact when you're in the middle of an overly stressed task, like this for example. It's at times like that that your OCD shines the brightest."

"It's funny how you can make that sound like a compliment."

She smiled cheekily. "I didn't mean to make it sound like a compliment. Where's your phone?"

I nodded towards my purse. I was much too lazy, too tired, to get up and get it. I was in the perfect position. Her couch was incredibly comfortable.

"Do you want me to get it?"

I closed my eyes, and she got up grudgingly, pulling my bag onto my lap. "Call him now." She commanded.

I fished for my phone, and curled my hand around the screen. Scrolling through my contacts, I found his name and clicked call. He answered after the first four rings.

"Hello?" His voice was husky and deep, almost drowsy.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" I asked, tentatively. It was two in the afternoon. Why would he be taking a nap at this hour?

"I guess I dozed off." He admitted. "I'm swamped with organizing a bunch of papers." He yawned softly.

I chuckled, and then realized that he was much too tired to work on the moving plans alone. I covered my phone with my hand and said to Rosalie, "He's so busy; I can't let him work alone while I go off with you two."

She shook her head. "You're going. He's your husband, and the man of the house. Let him handle it. You don't want to be one of those wives." She shuddered.

I winked at her. "Edward, I hate to put even more of a burden on you," I began.

"Do you want me to handle the moving plans alone?"

I blinked. "How did you know?"

"I assumed from your tone that you were going to ask a favor." I could practically see him shrug. "And in any case, I'd be glad to handle the plans alone. You don't always need to be the person in charge you know. I'm perfectly capable to supervise the move."

I smiled despite myself. "Thank you, Edward, you're a life saver."

He chuckled. "Glad I could help. Would you like to tell me why you decided to let me handle the move? I know it probably wasn't your decision. Chances are, if you had a choice, you'd move the things yourself."

I laughed. He knew me so well, which was surprising because we never had that conversation filled with little facts about ourselves. "It's amazing how you know so much about me."

"I notice things."

"Rosalie thinks I've been too uptight lately – all I think about are how to make the show go on even after a scandal like this. All I do is sacrifice and sacrifice – and pull you down with me, sorry – and she thinks it would be good to take a day off."

"That would be a good idea. You're much too busy for your own good." He said, kindly.

"Thanks for agreeing to take care of things." I smiled. "It's taking a load off my shoulders."

"Don't worry about it. What are you guys planning on doing?"

Rosalie was smiling triumphantly at me, but there was underlying tone of mischief to the grin.

"Rosalie was supposed to meet her friend Tanya Denali at the movies, and I guess I'm tagging along." I laughed amusedly. "I hope I'm not invading their private time!"

There was a long silence on the other end, and for a second, I thought he had dozed off again. "Edward?" I began hesitantly. "Are you there?"

"Yes." He breathed. "Who did you say you were going with?"

"Rosalie and Tanya." I said slowly.

"I guess I did hear it right then," he murmured, more to himself.

"Why?"

"No reason." He said, but I knew he was lying. "Hey, Bella, I need to go and fix some of these papers up – not to mention handle the moving plans. I'll see you tonight when you get home."

When you get home. That's right. We shared a home now. It was a strange feeling…moving in is a big step of any relationship, and it surprises everyone – me especially – that my first big step in any relationship happens during a marriage that wasn't even real.

"Okay, I want to thank you again for –"

"Don't worry about it. Bye." And then he hung up.

"Well, that was rude." I said, returning my phone into my bag. I looked at Rosalie with a slightly annoyed look in my eyes, and she raised her brow, pursing her lips.

"What happened?"

"I don't know." I replied. "The conversation was light, and friendly, and suddenly he became uptight. And then he hung up on me – quite rudely I might add."

"What made him uptight?" She asked, confused.

"That's the thing, I don't know!" I exclaimed. "I didn't say anything insulting or even close to suggestive. I just told him that I had plans with you and Tanya."

"When did he suddenly turn uptight?"

"After I said your names." I recollected.

She frowned. "Maybe he doesn't like me."

"That's impossible. You guys get along just fine – though you didn't have the best first impression … either of you … And plus, he's never said a word about you that wasn't complimentary. He thinks you're incredible for coping with your sudden interaction with Emmett." She was quiet. Shit. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to mention that…"

"It's fine." She said, similar to how Edward had acted on the phone. "Maybe that's why he became uptight. Maybe he's uncomfortable around me – or maybe he flat out dislikes me – because of my history with his cousin, who, I am fairly certain, isn't part of his favorite people's list."

"I doubt it. Edward doesn't seem to be the type of person who holds grudges."

"But what do we know about him? We never really talked to him back in college, and we met him because of a freak drunken mistake. You probably haven't even had the conversation about what you both are like." She said. "I can bet you that you don't even know his favorite color."

I frowned. She was right.

"See? We know almost nothing about your husband." She sighed. "I know you get along with him just fine, I've seen and heard your conversations, but that's because you both don't know each other that well. Maybe tonight, or tomorrow night, you should have a chat about it. Get to know one another – god knows you'll be stuck together for three months!"

"You're right, Rosalie." I realized. "I really do not know anything about him. I just know all the surface things – I'll talk to him about it."

"I mean, think about it! You didn't even know that he hates your best friend!"

"He doesn't hate you." I groaned. "I'm sure it's a misunderstanding."

"What else could it mean? He reacted to our names. He only knows me. He doesn't even know who Tanya is, Bella. I'm not very interested in knowing, but if possible, can you find out why he has such a strong dislike towards me? Or at least, why he reacted to my name."

"I hate to sound so high school, but maybe he likes you." I laughed.

"Not only is that incredibly gross but that could never happen." She smiled.

"Why?" Rosalie was the epitome of beauty; and had the personality. Anyone was lucky to have her in their lives; and Emmett was an idiot for letting her leave his.

"I have it on good authority that he has feelings – however small – for someone else."

My eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Yes."

"Who told you this?"

"A friend of mine."

I quirked a brow. "Emmett?"

"Maybe." There was a sly smile on her face. "But I know he has some feelings for someone above plain platonic feelings."

"Who is she? She is a she isn't she?"

"Yes, she's a she."

"Do you have a name?" How did I not know this?

"Not that I know of." Her eyes were bright.

"You're lying." I said flatly.

"I am not!" She said, but she was about to bust out laughing.

I frowned. "This is great. My fake husband has feelings for another woman. That'll convince the press that this relationship is real."

She bit her lip. "We could always get him to start liking you instead."

I chose to ignore her. "That is not going to be one of the options. I refuse to allow that to happen, but I can't have him infatuated with another girl." I sighed. "I'll talk to him about it."

"What?" She said, straightening up.

"I'll talk to him about it one of these days; I'll ask him kindly to wait until our marriage is over to showcase his feelings."

She laughed abruptly. "I'd love to see that."

I glared. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." She smiled. "Nothing at all."

It was at times like these that I wished Rosalie wasn't so damn mischievous. . .

T

I've been Rosalie's best friend since we were in elementary school. We'd met because my cousin, Irina, hated her with a passion (though I'm fairly certain she was just jealous). She had pulled Rosalie's pigtails, and Rosalie had a fiery temper. I was thrown into the middle of the whole thing, and I guess I ended up siding with Rosalie instead of my cousin.

We hit it off immediately; she was spunky and brash, and I was more calm and understanding. If you have ever read Gone With The Wind (which is definitely my favorite book of all time) Rosalie was my Scarlett O'Hara, and I was her Melanie Hamilton.

We went to the same elementary, junior high, and high school, but we were separated for years because college. She had always been an overachiever despite what people may think, and I have always tried to stick with the status quo. She went to a prestigious college while I used a full scholarship to go to a UC school. I struggled for a bit, but I overcame it.

We met again a few months ago; thank goodness. She'd made a name for herself in the modeling world and I was the co-editor of a fashion magazine. We actually met up because of my magazine: she had a photo shoot at the same time that I was editing one of the articles. What a pleasant surprise that was.

Though I love Rosalie more than anything, I have never been able to tell her about my relationship with Edward. In fact, she probably doesn't even know that I know he existed, which works out for us both. No one needed to know about our wreck of our relationship; some things are better left unsaid.

I'm also friends with Bella – though I know she would not consider me her best friend. We could spend hours together talking, and laughing, but at the end of the day, we didn't connect as well as Rosalie and I did. But I was thrilled to finally hang out with her again – we hadn't just been together for a good month.

We met at the Coffee Bean situated to the left of the AMC theatre. Rosalie looked ravishing in a simple sun-dress, and Bella was dressed in skinny jeans and an intricately designed blouse. It was funny how they could look beautiful without even trying – if they weren't famous already, I was sure a scout would have signed them for a modeling contract the minute he laid eyes on them.

I waved them over.

"Tanya!" Rosalie exclaimed, throwing her arms around me. "It's great to see you."

"You know we met up a few days ago right?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Days can feel like centuries under the right conditions." Bella quipped.

I grinned and hugged her. "I haven't seen you in so long, Bella."

Her eyes were twinkling with amusement. "I know; we should really hang out more often. If only our schedules weren't so damn tight."

I was just as busy with my magazine as she was with her show.

"Sit, sit." I gestured grandly. "I ordered you both some Ice Chocolates – because I know you love them, but you're much too afraid to drink them because of their calorie count. But screw calories – it's a girls night out, and we can't not get fat."

Rosalie laughed. "I missed talking to you."

I winked. "Doesn't everybody?"

Bella rolled her eyes. "Cocky much?"

"Very." I shrugged.

"I'd rather not discuss how cocky you are, Tanya. As much as I love hanging out with you, that is not a nice subject." Bella laughed. "Anyway, you have to help me."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Will you please tell Rosalie that only a blind and incredibly cantankerous person would have any smidge of dislike for her?" She glared playfully at Rosalie.

I raised an eyebrow. "Everyone adores you, Rosalie. I can't name a single person who doesn't like you – except maybe Irina of course." I joked.

Rosalie's eyes flashed with amusement. "God I remember that."

"I told you." Bella said. "You're so vain it's scary, Rosalie. You're almost as bad as Tanya."

I winked at her. "What brought this argument up in the first place?"

"Well, Rosalie seems to think that a friend of mine hates her, when I'm sure that he doesn't."

"How would you get the idea that he hates you?"

"I called him and told him of my plans, and when I told him who I was going with he shut down completely."

"That's strange. Who's your friend?"

Rosalie laughed. "Friend?" She scoffed. "More like husband."

What?!

My eyes widened immediately, my mouth ajar. "What?" I asked, throwing my hands on the table. "You got married?"

"You didn't know?" Bella said, just as surprised. "Haven't you been watching TV? Reading the news? It's been all over the place."

"I've been locked up in my house for the past few days; I'm working on a big article." I said. "But that doesn't matter now; when did you get married? Why didn't I know that you were dating at all? I thought you were boycotting all men!"

"It's a long story." Rosalie sighed, obviously weary from explaining the story.

"I've got time!" I sipped my drink, thoroughly interested. "Tell me everything."

"Well, I didn't mean to get married." Bella explained. "Alice set me up with Jasper's colleague for a blind date; and we both decided that we weren't ready for a relationship. We just drank a lot, and the next morning, we woke up in bed together with matching gold bands on our ring fingers."

"What a sweet story." I commented, brightly.

Rosalie laughed. "It's not funny!" Bella said. "Everything is so complicated, because now, I have to pretend to be married. Getting divorced will jeopardize my appeal of being a love guru – who wants to take advice from a woman with a failed marriage?"

"So you're just going to…stay married?"

"No. Three months. I'll be married for three months. And then I'll get divorced."

"Wouldn't that jeopardize your appeal, or whatever."

"Maybe." She said. "But it won't be nearly as bad, because I can make up problems and issues to teach. How to fix them and how to keep the marriage from experiencing these things in the first place."

"Why not get divorced now then?"

"Too much publicity. I want to let the buzz die down for a while; and I need sponsors."

"I see." I smiled wickedly. "And this is the man that you think doesn't like Rosalie?"

"There isn't a man on earth who doesn't like you, Rosalie." Bella laughed.

Rosalie glared but I agreed. "Exactly." I smiled at her. "So, who's the lucky guy?"

"You probably haven't heard of him – he's famous in the medical world but not so much in the general society, unless you're looking for a surgeon." Bella laughed.

"Try me; I'm almost positive that I know him. Plus, someone who doesn't like Rosalie must be pretty damn pretty because what kind of guy wouldn't like that." I looked at her suggestively and she rolled her eyes. "Who is he?"

"Edward Masen?" Bella said.

I froze. She didn't mean that Edward Masen did she? I thought about it for a second. A surgeon. He was head surgeon. Just got out of a serious relationship. We ended a year ago. It was serious. Drinks a lot. He could drink a lot. Reacted to who she was hanging out with. He wasn't reacting to Rosalie's name, he was reacting to my name. He was Edward. My ex-boyfriend, Edward.

Fuck.

"Tanya?" Rosalie's amused expression turned serious. "You okay?"

I looked at her, my throat dry. "Yes." I croaked.

"What's the matter?" Bella asked. "Do you know him?"

I swallowed. "He doesn't hate you Rosalie." I said.

"What?"

"He doesn't hate you." I repeated.

"How do you know?" She asked. "He reacted bizarrely to my name."

"No." I shook my head. "He wasn't reacting to your name. He was reacting to mine."

"Why would he react to your name? Do you know him?"

"A lot better than you might think." I winced.

Rosalie concealed the hurt on her face. "What do you mean?"

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you about us, but I didn't think you'd want to know. And it was a part of my life that I don't want to relive. I was still in college when it happened, and it was over long before we met up after college." I explained. "I know I would end up telling you, but I didn't know that my ex-boyfriend would end up being Bella's husband."

Rosalie was silent. "Who else knew?"

"Just those who were involved in the situation." I said. "Jasper had a hand in it."

"Jasper knew?" She echoed, incredulously.

"Yes." I winced. "I didn't tell him; Edward did. We ended things on a fairly bitter note, and we weren't on speaking terms until your brother pushed us back together to settle our differences and become mutual friends."

"Okay." But I knew she wasn't okay with being the last to know.

"So you dated Edward?" Bella asked. She was more curious than angry – maybe they did have a relationship that was completely platonic. But I had a feeling in my gut that that was going to change. "How was it?"

"One of the best years of my life." I said, easily. "I was struggling back then; my parents weren't supportive and my friends turned their backs on me. Then, Edward came and picked up the pieces. We bonded because we both had our issues to settle."

"I see." Bella said. "I hate to ask, but why did you break up?"

"I guess after our issues were done and dealt with, we realized we didn't have much in common. We were so engrossed in solving our problems; we didn't know what to do once they were solved." I admitted. "I still talk to him now and again, but it's difficult to stay friends with an ex."

Bella's eyes lit up immediately. "Having the love of your life break-up with you and say 'we can still be friends' is like your dog dying and your mom saying 'you can still keep it.'"

I nodded. "Exactly." No wonder she was famous.

She beamed. "I was wondering, can you tell me some things about him? I've known him for a few weeks and I haven't got a clue. I only know a bunch of surface things."

"Well, as you've probably noticed, he's incredibly handsome." I smiled.

Bella nodded and Rosalie did too.

"But he has his flaws." I grinned. "I didn't notice it until much later in our relationship, but his lips are not proportional to his other features. It's quite funny. That's why whenever he smiles, he always smiles crookedly – and even though it's supposed to be a mistake, it's his best smile."

Bella grinned. "I noticed. What else?"

"There's too much to tell." I confessed. "What would you like to know?"

"On his worst day, what is he like?" She asked.

Of course she would ask in-depth questions instead of a simple, "What's his favorite color?" I thought for a second. There was a day when three patients died on his table and I remembered his face clearly. "Well, he doesn't get mad. But, at the same time, he doesn't smile. He is completely down for the day, mute. His eyes have this almost scary look – haunting and full of regret. He turns awfully pale."

"Strange." She whispered. Rosalie looked at me with interest. "So he doesn't have a temper?"

"Why, of course he has a temper!" I exclaimed. "He seldom gets mad, really gets mad, so I can't say that he's short-tempered…but when he does get mad, it's terrifying. Mostly because the madder he gets, the softer his threats become. In the beginning, he might yell like any normal person. But slowly, his words turn soft and commanding, completely domineering. It's impossible to argue with him – both because of his senseless pride and from fear that he'll do something brash."

Her eyes widened. "Really?"

"But don't be frightened." I said. "I was with him for a year. He only lost his temper once, and it was a complete misunderstanding. There was a man named Jonathan who got a little too friendly with me, and Edward came in at the wrong time. I was pushing him away, but I guess it looked like I was pulling him towards me…so he assumed I had initiated it and that kind of thing."

Bella nodded. "A relationship is doomed without trust." She smiled. "But I bet you that after that mishap, the relationship was at its peak – the best of the entire year."

I nodded. "How did you know?"

She winked. "It's textbook." She finished drinking her ice chocolate. "I'm getting another one. I'll be right back. And don't worry, I'm done asking questions." I nodded as she got up and left.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Rosalie asked quietly.

I frowned. "I didn't want you to judge me. I made a bad decision. I loved him and I know he loved me, but we sort of realized at the end that we loved each other as a friend, a sibling, rather than as something more than platonic. There wasn't any passion or fire in it. It was safe, because we knew each other so well."

"I wouldn't have judged you." She said. "But I'm judging you now."

My eyes widened. "Why?"

"I'm going to ask you this once, and I'll know if you're lying." She said, earnestly. "Do you still love him?"

"No." I said automatically. She examined me closely and nodded, satisfied.

"Okay, that's all I need to know."

"Why?"

Her eyes twinkled. "It may be uncomfortable for you, but I am impartial, so I can carry on this…mission…without a second thought."

I smiled. "Let me guess. You want to set Bella up with Edward."

"How did you know?" Her eyes were incredulous.

"Why else would you say that it would be uncomfortable for me?"

She nodded. "Right. That makes sense."

"Are you going to help me?"

I smiled. "I'm in."

E

She gasped as she entered the house. Lots of furniture had been moved around, and a lot of her things had been added. It was decorated beautifully; and it actually looked nicer than her old apartment.

"How do you like it?" I asked. I came out in a simple shirt and his boxers. She flushed with embarrassment for catching me wearing something like this – until she realized that she lived here too.

"It's beautiful." she said honestly. "You did a fantastic job."

"I told you that you don't have to be in charge of everything, and things can still go as planned." I reminded. Bella smiled appreciatively.

"Thanks. I had a wonderful day." I stiffened a little, being reminded of who she had spent the afternoon with. "I need to discuss something with you."

Tanya must have told her about our wrecked history. My instinct told me to bluff. "Is it related to our agreement?" I hoped she couldn't see me trembling.

"Loosely." She allowed.

"Okay." I said relieved. Either Tanya didn't tell her anything, or, she was postponing that conversation for another day – which gave me time to prepare my answers. "What would you like to talk about?"

"I guess I'm a bitch for bringing this up because I'm sure I shouldn't know about this, but your cousin told Rosalie who told me."

"Okay…" I said slowly. "I'm not sure what you're referring to."

She sighed. "I know about your feelings."

I froze. Not this conversation. It was even worse than a conversation about Tanya. Emmett and his nonexistent conscience. How could he have told Rosalie about my almost feelings for Bella? How embarrassing for her to know!

"My – what?" I choked.

"Your feelings." She repeated. "And I'm sure that you couldn't resist yourself – you're a guy after all – but I'm going to need you to hold back these feelings until after our agreement – marriage – ends."

I raised my eyebrows. "Why?"

"Isn't it obvious?" She said. "The press would take it the wrong way."

Yeah, they might think that we were real, but wasn't that what we were going for?

"Wouldn't it be good for the press to know about it?" I asked, confused.

"No! My reputation would be ruined!"

I stiffened. Had she just insinuated what I think she just did? Did she think I wasn't good enough for her? Well then. I suppose it would be better if I truly didn't pursue these feelings I had for her. I thought that having these feelings would have helped us, because it would seem more realistic, but if this was the way she felt…

"Fine." My voice turned quiet. She knew that I was annoyed. Almost angry.

"If you're not okay with it, you can –"

"No, I'm fine with it." I smirked wickedly. "The feelings are going away as we speak."

"Well, that makes it a lot easier for us!"

How?

"Yes it does." I said simply.

"I didn't want to ask you to do that, but it'll only be three months."

"Right." I said noncommittally.

"Thank you for being so understanding!"

"No problem."

"I'm going to go be hygienic and take a shower – I want to take the smell of burnt popcorn off of me."

I laughed without feeling. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"What, we aren't going to talk after I take a shower and change?"

"I really don't see the point." I replied. "We've talked enough for today. We can talk more tomorrow night when we both aren't busy."

She frowned. "If that's more comfortable for you."

"It is."

"Well then, good night I guess."

I nodded. "Goodnight."

As I watched her walk away, I realized it mimicked what she had just said about my feelings. Just hide them. Walk away. Run.

I smiled to myself, because as my eyes followed her leaving form, the feelings vanished completely.

A/N: Next chapter will involve Bella's heart to heart talk with Edward.

Hope you liked it. Please review. Thanks.

-Kim

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