So a lot of people have asked, requested and straight out demanded that I write a BPOV. Well, I did.
It was difficult because I prewrite, preedit and prepare all of my stories before posting the first chapter. In a sense I've already said goodbye to these characters because MM has been completed (at least on my end for months now).
I had no idea that MM was going to blow up the way it has but I wanted to thank everyone by at least trying to give you Bella's side of the story. Getting back into that mind frame was difficult to say the least but I've been assured and can only hope you feel that I did her justice.
Thank you darkNnerdy for holding my hand and staying up for three hours with me while I obsessed over every little thing. Without your love and support I wouldn't have the guts to share this.
Thank you Jaime, JD my proofreader. Without your second look a few people would have been a little confused :D
And thank you readers from the bottom of my heart :D
The technician presses a button on her computer and turns the screen towards us.
"Wow." I breathe in amazement. "It's my baby."
She chuckles and moves the wand around my stomach to show me a better profile.
Her cute little nose scrunches as she pushes against the wand from the inside.
Everything about her is beautiful, but I knew that already.
"She's got some very long fingers," Kate comments.
I ignore her and ask for the full package. A video and print outs of my little Hope.
"You've still got a little while to go." My doctor tells me as he sits on a stool across from me. "So don't start researching how to self induce, and try to take it easy for a little while longer. It'll happen when it'll happen."
I rub my distended stomach and give him my best smile.
"I'll admit I'm excited to meet her, but I understand that she needs to cook for a little while longer," I laugh. "Don't worry."
"I'm not Isabella," he winks and turns to Kate. "I understand that you'll be in the delivery room with us when the time comes, yes?"
She stiffens for a second, but recovers quickly and bats her long eyelashes at him.
"Of course. I am Aunt Kate after all."
Her voice is tight. She's spent the past three months since I brought up the topic of her being my birthing coach trying to talk me out of it. She blames her weak stomach, but the truth is she hates kids.
I'm lucky to have such a good friend. She's willing to suffer so that when the time comes I won't be alone.
Dr. Gerandy hands me my paperwork and tells me I can schedule a tour of the birthing suite for later in the week.
He pats my belly and tells Hope to hold off for a little while longer before exiting the room.
"The food court has an array of food, Bells." Kate gripes. "You could mix and match."
"I really want barbeque." I argue, tucking my sonogram pictures into my bag carefully. "Tell the truth, you want to see if that guy at the T-Mobile kiosk is working so you can try to flirt him into replacing your phone case."
She whips around with a smile.
"He is cute. Please. I'll even buy you one of those giant cookies, even though your doc told you to lay off the sweets."
I laugh and shake my head.
"I want barbeque and so does she." I rub the side of my stomach as a stray limb stretches out. "She's kicking up a storm, wanna feel?"
"No thanks." Kate grits out and then sighs. "I guess you win. I can't wait until you give birth so you can stop using the two against one thing for your benefit. Let's go get some barbeque."
She presses the button on the crosswalk and fiddles with her cracked phone case.
"I guess I can go bother Garrett some other time."
The traffic comes to a stop and the sign across from us flashes. We're walking across the street and laughing about something random.
And then there's nothing.
They tell me I'm lucky to have 'slept' through most of my recovery.
My wounds and most of the broken bones are healed. The only thing I have to worry about is regaining my strength. Physically and mentally.
The pain in my heart is something that will take time, they say.
It's been six months since my daughter died, but the pain is fresh, given the fact that I've been in a coma the entire time.
Ever since I woke up my dad's been by my side and I am so incredibly thankful.
I know it's taking a lot for him to swallow his pride and be here for me after everything, but I'm grateful just the same.
He tells me of the casket they buried her in.
They couldn't wait for me to wake up.
She needed peace.
He tells me he buried her with my mother's rosary.
I've never been religious, but this fact makes me feel better for some reason. I wasn't there to say goodbye, but I can only hope that my mom was on the other side to take care of her.
Dad tells me I'm coming home with him to recover.
I don't even argue because moving back into my childhood home means I'll be closer to where my baby has been laid to rest.
Kate stops by but doesn't stay for long.
She and dad have never gotten along so I don't hold it against her.
She tells me while he's in the bathroom that the contents of my apartment, including the nursery, have been packed away and are sitting in a storage unit.
Dad returns and Kate makes a hasty exit with a half hearted promise that she'll visit when I settle down in Forks.
My physical therapist comes to the house five days a week and works me over until I'm sobbing and begging for reprieve.
I've never met anyone as sadistic as Benjamin, and while I know he's only here to get me back to the way I was before, I also know that just isn't possible.
In the beginning I was as weak as a kitten and struggled to dress myself without the help from the nurse dad hired for me. Benjamin soon found something he could bribe me with. Dad didn't hesitate to agree.
We've been working hard for weeks now and I'm finally able to make him prove his word.
He's patient as I push the walker up the cracked sidewalk. My legs ache and the muscles in my back are straining, but I'm a woman on a mission.
We both know this walk is pushing it but I'm tired of waiting.
Finally, after two months of waiting, I enter Forks Cemetery on wobbly legs with my physical therapist by my side.
He keeps asking me if I'm alright. He tells me that he would have been happy with a walk around the block, but I've waited two months and I refuse to let them keep me from her any longer. I'm not strong enough to make it by myself, and they know that, but they also know that I'd try anyway.
As soon as he found out my plans for the day dad decided to visit his friend Preacher Black across town and was gone when I woke up.
I don't blame him for leaving. I know it's difficult for him to sit back and watch me suffer. I know he agreed with Benjamin for my own sake. Without a driving force as big as a trip to the cemetery I would have sabotaged my recovery.
We find her tiny marble tombstone in a sea of other markers and I fall to my knees and tell Benjamin to leave.
He's seen enough of my tears, and heard enough of my cries, to become immune to it. Letting me know he'll be close by, he walks back in the direction we came, giving me my privacy.
I trace the letters engraved in the small stone and sob for my lost angel.
Seeing the lone date underneath the name I'd chosen hurts worse than I imagined. It makes it real.
I apologize over and over again until my voice is hoarse.
I plead to whoever will listen to just make this nightmare end.
I don't know how much time passes before I feel a light tap on my shoulder. Benjamin is standing over me, shielding me from the rain I hadn't noticed. I kiss the cold marble and let him help me to my feet before we begin the long walk back home.
My new apartment is a small one bedroom in the heart of Seattle. As much as I love being close to her grave I know it's unhealthy.
I walk with a cane, and I can't lift anything over my head but I'm able to take care of myself so I can't complain.
It's been a year and five days but the pain of waking up and being told that she didn't make it, is still fresh.
I quit my job and obsessively attend group meetings with other people who have lost children. I spend three days a week with a therapist who tries her damnedest to help me come to terms.
I forget what having a good day feels like.
Everything triggers feelings I wish I could forget, but at the same time I'm afraid of forgetting.
Kate thinks it's weird that I kept all of Hope's things, but I can't let it go.
The scars from the accident are painful reminders of what I lost, but the tiny clothes, and little things I picked up during my nesting phase, are comforting.
I'm sitting in a coffee shop having a cup of coffee with girl I met in group, when she brings up the topic of food blogging as a job.
We talk numbers and logistics of a work from home career but everything is cut short when a baby across the room cries.
Sienna drives me home, telling me that it gets better, but her words fall on deaf ears.
I take my prescribed medication and climb into bed.
I remain in a state of nothingness for two weeks.
The years pass slowly.
Time goes by.
I grow older.
I stop attending grief counseling meetings after a while. Every one of them are the same. They promise it'll get better, but I know deep down that it won't. I journal my feelings and think of her constantly.
I immerse myself into my work as a food blogger.
I get a new car, and say goodbye to my friend Sienna, who's decided to move back to Brazil to be closer to relatives.
It takes some convincing, but she tells me the move is to be closer to family, that she and her husband are trying for another baby.
I admire her strength. I realize that I will never be at that place in my life.
I'm a shell of the person I used to be.
I strive to wean myself off of the anti depressants.
Migraines run my life now, a cruel side effect from the accident, and something I will likely never recover from. It only adds to the miserable life I lead now.
They come out of nowhere, and wipe me out for days at a time. I'm a slave to their torture.
Kate marries a man she's only known for two months and doesn't invite me to the wedding.
She tells me that it was spur of the moment, and that there wasn't any time, but I can see the lie. We haven't been close since the accident.
She didn't want to invite the zombie to her happy day, which is fine with me. I would have been miserable anyways.
Jared is a nice guy. He's quiet, and he deserves better, but he keeps her distracted and away from me. That fact alone earns my approval.
I finally receive the peaceful existence I've secretly yearned for since I got out of the hospital.
Another year passes, and I'm elbow deep in a new recipe I'm trying out for the blog when the phone that's always silent starts ringing in the other room. It scares me and makes me drop the icing bag I'd been using.
Seconds later, so does the phone.
I drive all the way to Forks on autopilot, and for the first time in a very, very long time, I pray for my dad to be alright.
He's the only person I have left.
If he dies, I'll be truly alone.
I barrel into the hospital and am led straight to his room.
He's pale and injured, but he's breathing and for the first time since I got the call, I can breathe too.
When he finally opens his eyes, the relief is overwhelming.
When he speaks, his voice is weak and strained, but he asks for my help.
"I took care of you after your accident." he says softly. "You sort of owe me."
I think of Hope and the accident. I realize just how easily I could have been left completely alone in this world. I squeeze his hand.
Promising that I'll be there for him every step of the way.
The nurses at the clinic dad goes to now tell me they need insurance forms before I can bring him back.
I enter my pack rat of a father's office with tear stained cheeks.
Hope has been so heavy on my mind since I arrived in Forks. When I stopped by the Cemetery to see her, after talking to the nurses, I promise to us both that I won't wait so long next time.
I find my original birth certificate and things from my childhood Charlie held onto that make me smile.
An hour passes as I rummage through his chaotic mess of an office, and I realize the only place I haven't checked is the bottom drawer of his big desk.
I use a letter opener to pop the lock and carefully leaf through all of the things he deemed important enough to lock away.
The blue folder he told me that housed all of the information he needs is in the middle of a pile of other papers. It's not until I'm putting everything back the way I found it, that I see my ex boyfriend's name.
Seeing his name makes me think of her. My Hope.
Curiosity takes over and I pull the manila folder out. Charlie never speaks of Alec, but there's something about this file that I can't resist.
What I see, the big bold letters, confuse me.
Power of attorney.
The words mock me, making my head swim until I find myself heaving almost missing the trash bin next to his desk..
He couldn't have.
I don't know how long I sit there. I've run out of tears; of sympathy for the monster I once called my father.
I pick myself up, wiping harshly at my cheeks, as I storm down the stairs, ready to confront him.
My feet haven't even hit the last step before I throw the file straight at his sleeping form.
"What the heck?" He sits up straight, wincing in pain as he reaches for the revolver under the table until he finds me standing there.
"She's alive!" I scream.
He looks at the papers scattered around him and then up at me. His face void of emotion.
"My baby lived and y-you lied to me!" I cry.
He calmly tells me that it was for the best. That a baby out of wedlock is against religion. He did what any good person would do. He stares at me, a blank expression and he tells me that it was all for the best.
"You gave my baby to strangers." I throw a vase straight through his television.
His next words shock me, and my blood begins to boil.
He says I'm behaving like a child, that this is why he did what he did. That I had no idea how hard being a parent was and that I wouldn't have been able to handle it.
With his horrible words ringing in my ears, I knock everything off of a table and tell him he's dead to me.
I grab my car keys and the only important things I brought with me. I don't even bother giving him a second look as I leave clutching the folder as if it were Hope herself.
I don't even realize I've driven back to Seattle until I find myself standing on Kate's front porch.
I blubber and tell her everything as soon as she opens the door. When I'm done and out of breath, I watch as she looks at me with wide scared eyes, before she throws up into the hedges.
She couldn't have.
"I must advise you not to do this, Miss Swan," my attorney says as I gather my belongings. "We could take this to court. No judge in their right mind would keep your child from you. If you could give me just a little more time."
I wipe angry tears from my eyes and stand.
"I will not drag my baby through court proceedings and tear her from the only place she's ever called home just to benefit myself." I grit out. "It's been a pleasure, and I don't expect my retainer back for your trouble, but I know I'm doing the right thing. You're fired."
He tries to talk me out of it, he even brings up a possible lawsuit against the adoption agency.
"They didn't do anything wrong, Mr. Jenks." I argue. "I refuse to let my baby-the child suffer just because I've been wronged. I wish you all the best."
Jason Jenks isn't the first person to tell me that hiring a private investigator was a bad idea, but it's been two months, and I'm tired of waiting for something that might never happen for me.
Demetri is Sienna's cousin twice removed. She assured me that he was the best PI in the states.
I'm not even sure I want to know how he was able to find the family that adopted my daughter. I supplied him with so little information I was sure he'd come up empty.
He found her.
I have a last name.
I have an address.
My daughter lives in Jacksonville, Florida.
He offered pictures and even saying he'd go there and tail the family if I wanted. I paid him with a smile before kicking him out of my apartment.
I got drunk that night and planned my next step.
My meeting with Jason Jenks assured me that what I'm doing is right.
On the way home from the law office I stop by the post office and pay for express mail. I hand over the letter I spent a day perfecting before I can lose my nerve.
I drive home with a heavy heart, climb into bed fully clothed, hoping for the best.
Two days pass after the first contact between me and the adoptive family. I find myself growing more and more excited every time I get an email, but I want more.
The family asks me to provide DNA for a maternity test and for time to come to terms with everything.
It's not until I've swabbed my cheek and sent it off that I begin to doubt everything.
What if Demetri was wrong.
What if the family I'm dragging through hell aren't the people that adopted my Hope.
What will I do if it's not her?
I'm on pins and needles but happier than I've been in years because of the possibility.
One more email is one more step closer to her.
After days of hovering over a silent phone it rings and I panic.
This moment can either make or break me.
If I sound unstable, I may never get this chance again.
I clear my throat and accept the call.
The only response is a dial tone and my heart drops..
I debate whether or not I should call back, but decide against it.
It happens over and over again, killing me more and more each time until I'm a sobbing mess.
I email and plead for them to just wait until they are ready, because I don't think my heart can take much more.
And then he calls.
He sounds just as nervous as I feel.
He tells me he wants to meet me the next day, and then I hear a small voice call for him.
My world comes to a complete halt because of that simple word. It's her sound. That's my daughter.
Why does she sound as distressed as I feel?
I begin to doubt this family's ability to care for my daughter.
I won't settle for anything less than perfect.
He calls her Muffin.
What kind of name is that?
He's quick to get off the phone and my fear heightens.
I spend the night thinking the worst.
I sit in my car outside of the coffee shop and decide that I'll go in with an open mind.
I'll be as friendly as possible and try to get as much dirt as I can on this family.
One hint that my daughter isn't receiving the best care and I'll call Jason Jenks and get the ball rolling on a custody suit.
And then I meet the enigma that is Edward Cullen.
It doesn't take long to realize that he lives and breathes for his daughter-my Hope.
He does it alone, and from the hundreds of pictures he shares with me, I know that he's giving her everything this world has to offer, and then some more.
I know that there are worse places my child could have ended up. One of them is the empty casket in Forks' Cemetery.
He ends our meeting abruptly and leaves two photo albums, as well as the bag of stuff I had to offer with me.
I spend the entire night pouring over pictures of Marley Elizabeth Cullen's life, and fall deeply in love with someone I knew for eight months, but have never met.
I really hope you liked this glimpse into Bella's mind through it all
thanks to a lovely lady by the name of Misty Hawkins, Marley's Mother has been nominated for fic of the week over on The Lemonade Stand and I'd appreciate your further support if you could take a moment of your time to vote!
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