Secrets and Lies – Bella's Outtake part 2 by BellaScotia

Disclaimer: All character's belong to Stephenie Meyer. No infringement intended.

Thank you to Courtney for being my beta again. Thank you to Mel for asking me to write Bella's Outtake.


I have no idea what time it is when I finally stumble home through the dark forest, violent shivers convulsing my body.

"Jesus, Bella. What's happened?"

Charlie almost knocks his chair over when I step in through the back door. It's only when he grabs me that I notice I'm soaked to the bone. I didn't know it was raining. Charlie looks frantic as he sits me down and kneels in front of me.

"You're scaring me, Bella."

"He lied," I croak, my voice rough from crying.

Confusion creases his brow as he searches my face for any indication of what I mean. "He said he loved me."

I watch the blood drain from his face, replaced by sheer anger. "Edward?"

I nod.

His eyes harden into livid, dark orbs.

He leaps to his feet and storms out of the door, cursing a blue streak. His car is screeching down the street by the time I make it to the porch. Fatigue almost brings me to my knees. My limbs feel boneless as I curl up on the chair in the living room, shivering violently but feeling no inclination to change out of my wet clothes.

Charlie returns some time later looking murderous.

"What happened?" My voice rasps painfully, and I cough a little to clear my throat.

"Go put some dry clothes on," he snarls.

He clicks his tongue in annoyance when I recoil from him. His expression calms slightly.

"Go get changed," he says more gently. "Then come right back down here and tell me the truth... all of it!"

"Not till you tell me what happened," I insist defiantly, energised by my desire to hear something – anything – about Edward. "What did you do?" Desperation creeps into my voice. "Did you see him? What did he say?"

"Bella," he warns through tight lips.

"What did you do?" I repeat.

"He wasn't there," he admits coldly. "He's gone."

"For good?"

The anger in his eyes intensifies. "If he knows what's good for him. Now go upstairs and get changed."

For once I do exactly as I'm told. I worry about what this means while I take a quick shower and change into my pajamas and a robe. Something in Charlie's tone alerted me to the fact that he knows that Edward wasn't just out for the evening, but I can't believe that he's left town. There has to be some other explanation.

Within a half hour I'm back in the kitchen. Fresh tears spring to my eyes when I see the bowl of soup he's set out for me.

"Thanks, but I'm not hungry."

"Eat it," he orders. "You look like you haven't eaten properly in weeks." His fist clenches while he speaks, and I notice his knee bouncing a little though he's trying to appear calm.

I force down all of the soup under his watchful gaze.

"How long?" he asks when I'm finished.

"Just a couple of months," I reply, unable to look at him. "I swear." I add when he snorts cynically.

There's a long silence.

"Did..." He groans in frustration. "I wish your mother was here."

I glance up at him to find that he can't look at me either.

"Did you have sex with him?" he asks. His gaze is focussed on the far wall. I watch his bottom lip disappear between his teeth as the top one curls back in disgust.

On top of everything else I'm feeling, I still manage to feel embarrassment when I nod my head. I can't say it out loud.

He must have caught it in his peripheral vision, because his eyes close and his lips purse so tightly the edges turn white. "When was the last time you saw him?"

"The night Jessica saw us," I respond truthfully.

His knee bounces harder, and he runs his finger along the inside of his collar as if he can't breathe.

The mention of being with Edward breaks my heart all over again. "I love him," I sob, covering my face with my hands.

The scrape of his chair startles me almost as much as his arms wrapping around me. He holds me too tightly while I cry into his chest, and I wince at the intermittent curses that fly from his mouth. Finally, he releases me and hands me a wad of kitchen paper.

I blot my eyes, but it's futile since the tears won't stop. Charlie goes back to his own seat and drums his fingers on the table while looking out of the window. He doesn't know how to handle this anymore than I do. He mutters under his breath about cowards and bastards and runs his fingers repeatedly over his moustache.

"Is it still going on?" he asks, turning to me eventually.

"No," I insist, shocked by the question.

"Don't look like that," he says, irritated. "You're out of this house all the time. I don't know where you go. You come home in a mess and spend half the night crying. What am I supposed to think?"

"Did you see him today? Is that why you're in this state?" His voice is harsh again.

"I haven't seen him for weeks."

"But you're out there looking for him?"

"I'm not," I deny.

He glares at me. "I can't believe anything you say now, Bella. Tell me what happened today."

I clear my throat while I try to work it out in my head. I can't bear to say it out loud, as if it will make it true if I do.

"I'm calling your mother tonight. You're going back to live with her," he snaps, losing patience with me.

"What?" I gasp. "Why?

"Because I can't trust you not to go running around after him. Look at you! Look at the state you're in, over a man who got what he wanted and threw you away like trash."

He rubs his hand down his face and takes a few deep breaths.

"He used you," Charlie says soberly.

"It wasn't like that," I insist, shaking my head.

"Where is he then?" he challenges. "You're here breaking your heart over him and where is he? He's not here, Bella. He's with his wife. You need to get that into your head. He doesn't want you...he used you and now he's probably selling his wife a load of bullshit too, to save his marriage."

"Don't say that," I beg, sobs racking my body. "It was real."

"Goddammit!" he snaps.

He paces the room angrily while my sobs fill the room.

Finally he kneels in front of me and touches my knee gently. "I really think you should go back to live with your mom." His voice is gentle and laced with sadness.

"What about my finals?" I hedge. "And I'll be leaving to go to college."

His head droops forward briefly, but then he squares his shoulders. "We'll talk about it tomorrow." His eyes scan my face. "You look exhausted, you best get off to bed." He frowns. "You've got that interview tomorrow."

My heart plummets. I'd forgotten about the interview with the representative from the medical board.

Charlie squeezes my hand. "Don't worry, I'm coming with you."

I climb into bed, my body exhausted but my mind still reeling.

My mind buzzes violently like a swarm of angry bees. It feels like days rather than hours have passed since Lauren's revelation. My imagination keeps conjuring up images of Edward and Irina together. I imagine them smiling at each other as they share their good news with his family. The visual of Edward wrapping his arms around Irina sickens me. Anger starts to boil inside me as more and more images come unbidden to my mind.

How could he do this? How can he just turn his back on me and have everything he promised me with the woman he claimed he didn't love? Bitter humiliation claws at my insides, fuelling my grown rage.

Every 'I love you' he ever said to me swirls in my mind. Taunting me, angering me. I picture him in bed with Irina, curled up beside her, rubbing her pregnant belly, and I want to vomit.

The weight of my grief over losing everything I wanted is so great it constricts my chest, like I'm being crushed from the inside out. The pain is tangible, aching in my chest with such ferocity I can hardly breathe through it.

Even as sleep beckons, my jaw is clenched tight in anger.

I tell the investigator everything. I deny Jessica's claims of when the affair started, opting to tell him the truth of it. Still reeling from yesterday's hurricane of emotion, I divulge every true detail of what Edward and I did.

But there is no satisfaction in it. Guilt creeps up on me as soon as I finish speaking. Even though my heart is broken and every part of me hurts, I still feel guilt that this might ruin Edward's career.

The investigators words seem to fly in the air around me yet none of them stick. I hear talk of trials and hearings, but I'm not really taking it in. By the time I leave the office, I have no clue what will happen. Am I supposed to go to a trial?

On the way home Charlie tells me there will be a closed hearing. It's not a civil case, just an action by the medical board and so I won't need to talk to them again. This information provides small comfort. The damage has been done.

Charlie lets me stay home from school for a couple of days after he makes sure I have no exams. However, he stays home too, so I have no chance to go to the meadow. The first day is the hardest. I sit in the kitchen wishing I could go, panicking against reason that Edward is there waiting for me. Even after everything that has happened – or not happened – I still yearn for him. I can't make my heart stop aching for him.

But of course he won't be there; he'll be with his wife. My gut clenches every time I think of her. Aside from the pain, there is also a little alarm bell ringing inside me that I'm not ready to acknowledge. I'm stressed, that's all.

I sit at the kitchen table with a book in my hands, but my eyes keep wandering to the back door. The hum of the TV in the living room is driving me crazy. Not because of the noise, but because it's a reminder that Charlie is home. He's been home every day – watching me like a hawk.

He's here when I wake up, he's here when I get home from school – I have to come straight home now – and he's here when I go to bed. It annoyed me when he first told me he was taking a few days off work. He spent time talking to me about finals and college. It's the most he's talked to me in months, but I wanted to scream at him to shut up about the future.

I don't want it, not without Edward.

Now he just sits in front of the TV or stares at me across the kitchen table with disappointed eyes.

The hardest part has been trying to act normal. I pretend to read; I play music in my room that falls on deaf ears, and I even force the food down that I've cooked for us. But inside I'm dying. Inside all I want to do is go to the meadow. I dream that he's there, that I push my way through the trees to find him waiting for me. His smile is wide and welcoming... and then it fades into the mirage it is and misery engulfs me again.

The first day Charlie stayed home was the hardest. I hovered in the kitchen all day under the pretence of cleaning it, but I was really waiting for an opportunity to slip out the back door. It took all my strength not to defy Charlie and just go that day.

I got through it, thinking it would get easier in time.

It doesn't.

The loud rattle of the phone startles me, and I rush to answer it.

"Bella?"

Mike's voice makes my heart plummet.

"Hi Mike," I respond, aware that Charlie has turned the sound down on the TV.

"I... um... I tried to catch you at school today, but I missed you," he says, sounding hesitant.

"Yeah, I left early, I had a study period," I say.

"Look, I need to talk to you. Could you maybe meet me at the diner tomorrow?" His words come out in a rush, like he's nervous.

Charlie stalks into the kitchen and raises an enquiring brow at the phone.

I cover it with my palm. "It's Mike," I say, then thinking quickly I add, "he wants to meet tomorrow... I have some notes for him for Bio... we're lab partners."

Charlie frowns. "Can't he just come over here?"

"You can't keep me prisoner forever," I huff. "I'm eighteen years old."

His eyebrow lifts sardonically and then he looks at the receiver dubiously.

Sighing loudly, I remove my hand and talk to Mike. "Mike, could you do me a favour and say hi to my dad?"

Charlie's eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the same time Mike's voice sputters down the line. I thrust the receiver into Charlie's chest, and he catches it before reluctantly lifting it to his ear.

"Hey Mike," he says, glaring at me. "You staying out of trouble these days, son?"

He nods at whatever Mike says and then hands me back the phone and leaves the room.

"What was that?" Mike asks, as soon as I greet him again.

"Just Dad being Dad," I say lightly. "What time do you want to meet?"

After I make the arrangements with Mike, Charlie skulks back into the kitchen.

I gather up my books from the table, ready to take them upstairs. I stop in the doorway and face him. "You have to let me out of your sight sometime. And you're going to have to leave the house sometime, too. Don't you have some criminals to catch... or fish?"

He blows out a sharp breath.

When I turn towards him, armed and ready to fire, the look on his face pulls me up short. I've never seen my dad look so haggard, so old. It hits me, just for a moment, that I've hurt him more than embarrassed him.

Something in his expression draws forth a long forgotten memory. It's vague but I know it's from just before Renee took me away from him. He was in this very room, looking as hurt and lost as he looks right now. I swallow hard as he starts to speak.

"You scared me, Bells. When I saw the state you were in a few days ago... well, I never want to see you like that again. I couldn't cope with it again."

Emotion swells in my chest at the sincerity of his tone. Inside I'm still shattered , but my outward show seems to be convincing him. I force a weak smile.

"I'm just going to share some notes with Mike... I promise."

He nods reluctantly.

I retreat to the sanctity of my room and spend the rest of the day trying to cry quietly. Sometimes I feel like my head will explode from the pressure of all the thoughts that swirl around it simultaneously. There's one that keeps coming around and I'm finding it increasingly hard to ignore.

My Yasmin pills are lying in my nightstand drawer. I pull out the packet and stare at the intermittent pills that shouldn't be there. I've missed more than I thought. Since my skin cleared up, I haven't been so regular in taking them and a heavy realisation drops in my stomach.

I creep out of my room and into the bathroom. It's not like looking at the tampon box will give me any answers, but I stare at it anyway trying to remember the last time I fished it out of the cupboard under the sink.

My memory fails me.

I know I won't get any sleep tonight.

"Bella?"

Charlie's voice wakes me. I blink a few times, adjusting to the dim light.

"I'm going into work," he says when I finally focus on his face. "If you need anything just give me a call."

"I'll be okay," I say.

"Make sure you come straight home after you've given Mike the notes," he says, eyeballing me.

I roll onto my back after he leaves and stare at the ceiling. His anger and disappointment have been commonplace over the past couple of years, but I'm not used to his concern. I don't know if I can cope with it when I'm this close to disappointing him further.

I wish Edward was here.

My nerves kick in again, and I start to feel nauseous. I can't keep ignoring this. Maybe it's the stress. If I do a test it will put my mind at ease and then my period will probably come. Women miss periods all the time when they're stressed. I've read about it... somewhere.

A quick glance at my alarm clock tells me I have enough time to make it to Port Angeles and back before I meet Mike, as long as I leave in the next half hour. It would be monumentally stupid to buy a pregnancy test in Forks. There's no sense in pouring gasoline on the inferno.

An hour later I'm marching up and down the aisles of a pharmacy in Port Angeles. I've lost count of the times I've passed the shelves full of pregnancy tests. Who knew there would be so many different kinds? I slow down as I pass, but I haven't plucked up the courage to stop and actually look at them. How are you supposed to know which one is best anyway?

I know I'm being ridiculous. It's not like there's anyone I know nearby, but I just can't seem to find the nerve to pick one up and read the box. After another three or four circuits of the shop, I take a deep breath and force myself to stop and actually touch one.

I bite my lip while I read the box, but I can't seem to absorb the words. In the end I just grab one and bury it under the pack of cotton balls I picked up for purposes of concealment. My face is beet red while the stern woman behind the till rings up my purchases. She even has the gall to ask me if I want a bag, like I'd want to walk out of here carrying that in my hand for all the world to see.

On the way back to the truck I pass two pregnant women. I've never really noticed one before.

All the way back to Forks, I'm unable to take my mind off the pharmacy bag stuffed under the passenger seat. I have this sinking feeling in my gut, an annoyance that won't leave me alone. I turn up the radio and try to focus on that instead, but my eyes keep sliding to that sliver of blue poking out from under the seat.

I arrive back in Forks with twenty minutes to spare before meeting Mike. I can't help myself, even though I know it's futile, I still drive around for a bit in the hope of spotting Edward's Volvo.

When my lesson in futility is over, I turn into the diner's parking lot and take the space beside Mike's car.

Since it's Saturday afternoon the diner is busy. I swing the door open and am greeted by a cacophony of chatter, and I feel my nose wrinkle at the stench of grease. The sound of a child wailing rings in my ears making me wince, not just for auditory reasons. I spot Mike right away, since he's standing up waving at me like I've just arrived home from battle.

This makes me smile, but it fades as I walk towards him and he doesn't reciprocate.

"Hey Mike."

I slide onto the leather seat opposite him. He fiddles with the ketchup bottle and mumbles a greeting. I stare at him in confusion.

"What's up?" I ask.

His eyes flick up to mine but only briefly – like he can't stand to look me in the eye.

A knot tightens in my gut. I have the distinct feeling I wasn't invited here for pleasantries.

"I...uh... thanks for coming," he mutters, turning to look out of the window.

I study his profile, taking in the grim expression on his face, the hunched set of his shoulders and the nervous tapping of his fingers on the table. He's nervous. If we were going out, I'd swear he was about to break up with me.

"Do you want something to drink? A soda or something?" His voice is too high-pitched.

"Yeah, I'll have a coffee. Just milk. No sugar."

He nods and practically bolts out of the booth to go get it. I swallow down the lump that is forming in my throat. I'm not blind. I've seen the heat he's been getting from Jessica for remaining friends with me. I know what this is: I'm about to lose one of the two friends I have left.

"Here you go," he says, his voice artificially bright.

Wrapping my arms around the cup, I stare into it and remember the good things Mike has done for me. He's a good person, and I shouldn't hold this against him... no matter how much it hurts. That thought, coupled with the fact that I want to get home and take that test, dilutes my bitter disappointment.

"Jessica doesn't want you to talk to me anymore," I state bitterly.

He shifts in his seat. "It's not–"

"You guys are pretty serious then?" I ask, cutting him off.

He squirms a little more when I look up at him. His gaze darts around the room before settling back on me. "I... she... shit, Bella, I wouldn't do this if I didn't have to. I mean, I'll still see you around school but she gets jealous you know? She thinks I'm taking your side if I spend time with you."

I nod, even though inside I want to scream at him for buying her bullshit.

Inside I feel so let down, but the rational part of me stops me from lashing out at him. Instead, I sit and listen while he tries to explain that he'll lose his girl if he stays friends with me. Personally, I don't think she's much of a loss – he deserves better – but what do I know? What do I know about a guy who would do anything to be with the person he loves?

"It'll only be for a little while," he tries to assure me when we step outside. "I'll make her see that we're just friends."

I'm already staring vacantly at the rain that's hammering down.

"You don't have a jacket," he observes.

I shrug. "It's not like getting wet is the worst thing that could happen to me today."

As soon as I say it I feel bad. He looks wounded when I meet his gaze, and I apologise instantly.

I step out from under the stoop into the driving rain. The drops hit my skin like ice cold needles, and it's good to feel. Mike looks at me like I'm crazy, and maybe I am because I start to laugh.

"Come on in," I yell gleefully. "The water's lovely."

He grabs my arm before we run towards our cars. He laughs at me when I tilt my face up towards the heavens, but my laugh is slightly bitter and slightly unhinged... even to my own ears. But the laughter doesn't last long as my emotions boil over. He looks down at me and his brow furrows.

I look away, embarrassed.

"Hey," he says softly, making me look up at him.

The emotion of the last few weeks starts to brim to the surface, as well as the thought of losing my last friend. Tears swim in my eyes.

"C'mere you," Mike says, hauling me into his arms.

I wrap my arms around him, desperate to be held. I bury my face into his chest, choking back the sobs that threaten to engulf me. As if in understanding he squeezes me tighter.

I don't know how long I take comfort in his embrace, but it starts to feel too long. I pull back, and he hesitates for a moment before he lets me go.

"Bella, I ca–"

I shake my head at him. "We're okay, Mike."

"Are you sure?"

I thump his arm with my fist. "Yeah," I say lightly. "I understand." Even though I really don't.

His face is a portrait of guilt and regret as he turns away to his car. With a heavy heart I climb into the truck, and wiping furiously at my tears, I drive away without looking at him again.

I rush straight upstairs and lock the bathroom door. With shaky hands I turn the box over and attempt to read the instructions. It takes several attempts to absorb the information because my nerves are so shot. It's not even like it's rocket science, all I have to do is pee on the stick – but even that part is tricky with shaking hands.

I put the lid back on the stick and lay it on the window ledge. As if it's a bomb, I move away as far as I can and end up sitting in the corner next to the bath with my legs pulled up to my body. I press my forehead to my knees and wait. The box said five minutes.

I start to feel sick after fifteen minutes. I stand up and move closer, only to lose my nerve and sit on the edge of the bath.

After half an hour my stomach is making weird bubbling noises, and I can feel the burn all the way up to my throat. I slide back to the floor and wait a little longer.

My whole body is trembling while my mind whirs through everything that has happened. Images of Edward float around in my head like little darts of pain that arrow straight to my heart. I can see him smiling at me while he promises that everything will be okay, I can see his guilty eyes as he looks at me just before I exit his car. I can see his passion-filled gaze as he makes love to me.

Every beat of my heart smarts.

I wrench my mind away from painful memories, only to be confronted with a painful present.

I want to look at the stick. I want to put myself out of this misery, but I'm terrified that when I look at that stick everything will get a whole lot worse.

After about an hour, I can't take it anymore. My stomach is churning, and my limbs are stiff from sitting in the same position for too long. My bones crack as I get to my feet. For a moment I'm hit with the urge to pick the stick up and throw it out the window.

Finally, I lift it and hold it in my trembling hands. It takes great effort to open my eyes and look down.

Weirdly, the small blue plus sign comes as no surprise at all.

The tears blur it away.

My heart drops to the floor.

My head hurts.

I spend the rest of the weekend sitting at my bedroom window staring out into space, trying to wrap my head around the fact that there is a life growing inside me – but it doesn't feel real. I can't bring myself to believe that fate would be so cruel.

As the hours drag by, my mind twists in every possible direction. I tentatively touch my still-flat stomach, but I can't even comprehend it swelling with the child inside me. I know I could never have an abortion and so I'm left with only the realisation that my chance to walk away from all this heartache has just disintegrated.

There will be no fresh start at college. There will be no chance to live my life as if Edward Cullen had never been part of it. I never thought it could hurt any worse, but it seems it can. When my thoughts turn to Edward and Irina enjoying her pregnancy together, the agony of loneliness that hits me is almost too much to bear. I clutch at my chest because it feels like it might split wide open and my battered heart will fall to the floor in ruin.

As it finally sinks in that I'm pregnant, I start to think of how loved their child will be. I can envision both families gathering in that showy way they are fond of when the child is born. I torture myself with images of a grand christening party with Edward and Irina proudly showing off their bundle of joy to the Denalis and the Cullens. My lip curls at the thought of Carlisle finally congratulating Edward on getting something right.

Where would my child fit into it all? In all of the imagined joyous birthday parties and Christmases and everyday occurrences that I'm now convinced will come to pass, there is no place for the embarrassing product of Edward's indiscretion.

Most nights, I lie alone in bed unable to sleep because missing Edward hurts so much. During those hours I toy with the idea of telling him – in the mire of my loneliness it almost seems plausible that he'd come back to me if I tell him. I almost convince myself that I can give him what Irina is giving him. But in the cold light of day, I can see it for the flimsy notion it is.

I torture myself like this all week. I have to force myself to go to school, and I can barely stand it when Angela approaches me one morning at my locker. She's been trying to talk me into joining her in the cafeteria for a week or so, and I'm running out of excuses.

She comes up behind me, and the pity in her voice aggravates me when she asks how I'm doing.

"I'm fine," I insist, but it sounds unconvincing even to my ears.

"You don't look so good," she observes, "you look a bit tired."

"Aren't we all?" I quip, trying to inject humour into my tone. "At least we only have a couple of weeks left of school."

"That's true," she says, smiling. She pushes her glasses higher on her nose and bites her lip. I know the question is coming before she asks it. "Will you meet me in the cafeteria at lunch time? You don't have to hide away all the time."

"I'm not hiding," I say defensively. "I just don't want to sit in there with Jessica and her minions staring at me."

"I hate Jessica for this," Angela thunders. I'm a little shocked because I've never seen her so vehement. "I hate how she's still spreading her lies."

I turn to face her, hoping I look unaffected by her outburst. "Don't worry about it, Angela. It's not your problem."

Her face falls. My guilt makes me throw her a bone.

"Maybe I will meet you for lunch," I offer. "It would be nice to talk."

Her smile is gratifying, and I start to think that maybe it would be nice to have someone to talk to at lunchtime. I turn back to my locker after she leaves, still not sure if I'll meet her or not.

"Bella?"

I freeze at the sound of Alice's voice. I can't bring myself to turn around. Despite everything, I've missed her and even the sound of her saying my name angers me as much as it hurts me.

"Look, I know I'm the last person you'll want to talk to, but I can't do this anymore. I miss you."

I feel the muscles in my shoulders tense up and squeeze my eyes closed as emotion wells up within me. Despite my lack of response she continues to talk.

"I'm sorry I couldn't speak to you... It was hard for me. With everything that was going on, with the medical board and with Edward and Ir... well, it's been hard, you know?"

I fucking know alright.

"Edward and Irina have left town now and I thought... maybe we could talk?"

The first thought that hits me is he's gone for good. He's really moved on without me. I've suspected this since Charlie couldn't find him, but the regret in Alice's voice confirms it.

The finality of it almost brings me to my knees. Bizarrely, an image of him the last time I saw him comes to mind. That awful glint of guilt and sadness in his eyes. He must've known even then that it was over, yet he let me believe in him for so long. That's what hurts the most.

Alice is still speaking behind me, but it's Edward's voice that is roaring in my head like a storm. All his lies crashing like thunder, all his promises like bright flashes of lightning that disappear into nothing. Anger starts to cut through my pain while Alice begs me for the one thing I've wanted from her for weeks.

The last little vestige of friendship drains away with my anger. We can never be friends again. She can never know that I'm having his baby, because if she does, I'll never be free of them, and I'll never get over Edward's rejection.

Somehow I manage to calmly close my locker door and walk away from her without a word.

I spend the entire English lesson churning it all over in my mind. For the first time the baby starts to feel real. I feel a tiny bubble of emotion, akin to hope when I think what it will be like to have someone to love and who will love me without condition. My eyes prickle with the beginnings of tears. I lower my head and let my hair drift forward like a curtain shielding me from the rest of the class.

Thoughts of Edward and his family showering my baby with gifts in lieu of real love turn my heart to stone. I don't want them buying my baby's affection by providing things I can't afford.

By the end of the lesson I've made some decisions. I don't want Edward or his family to know about my baby, and I'll be leaving town to make sure they never find out.

I firmly believe Alice is the type of person who won't let it end like this. If I move away, she'll look me up, and I can't risk that. I have to make her hate me – and I need him to hate me, too. It's the only way she'll leave me be.

For once fate is kind to me, and the opportunity to set the wheels in motion comes to me at lunchtime. I wander amid the throngs of people making their way to the cafeteria when I see Angela and Jessica arguing up ahead.

Jessica has her arms folded and her hip cocked in a defiant stance. As I get closer and people file into the cafeteria away from them, Angela's voice drifts towards me.

"Why can't you just drop the bullshit? Bella's never done anything to you, she doesn't deserve this!"

"It's not bullshit," Jessica yells.

"You just can't help yourself, can you?" Angela shakes her head in disgust.

Steeling myself, I seize my chance. "She's not lying," I say. If I wasn't so nauseated by the thought of what I'm about to do, I'd find the way their heads swivel towards me in sync funny. But there is nothing funny about this situation.

Their shocked expressions are identical.

"What?" Angela is first to find her voice.

"She's not lying," I repeat. "So it's pointless defending me."

Angela's jaw drops just around the same time Jessica's does. I walk straight past them and out the doors.

Tears fill my eyes, and I run into Mike before I make it to my truck.

"Woah!" he chuckles catching hold of me. "Where's the fire."

His smile evaporates when he sees my tears. "Are you okay?" he asks.

"I just need to go home, I'm–"

"Mike!" Jessica yells from behind me.

I take the chance to get away and hurry to my truck without looking back. Thankfully, neither of them follow me, but I feel bad for Mike when I catch sight of them arguing in my rearview mirror.

Not long after I get home, I hear a car pull up outside. I'm surprised that word has got to Alice so fast.

For someone so small she sure makes a lot of noise when she pounds on the door.

"I'm not interested Alice!" I call from the end of the hallway. I don't want her to think that I was counting on her coming.

"Open up!" she yells.

I wait a few moments until she bangs the door again and then I open it a crack. She pushes it instantly and marches into the hallway.

She whirls to face me, her eyes blazing with anger and her brow creased with confusion. "I thought we could get over this," she says.

Even though I engineered this, weeks of pent-up hurt and humiliation bubble to the surface, and I explode. "Who the hell do you think you are? You haven't spoken to me for nearly two months and now you turn up on my doorstep because you want some answers?"

She blanches at the force of my rage. "Look, I know I was a shitty friend, but I had no choice Bella, I had to–"

I rake my fingers through my hair, feeling like I could tear every strand out of my own head. "Alice, I really don't care anymore. Just leave!"

She stares into my eyes, but I break the contact when hers narrow. "Why did you do it?"

I get the feeling she is referring to me corroborating Jessica's story, but I deliberately take it the wrong way. My stomach heaves, but I quell it as best as I can.

"Do what, Alice? Fuck your brother?" I say with as much disdain as I can fake. "Because I wanted to, because I could."

Her frown deepens and hurt flashes in her eyes. "He says he loves you," she says quietly.

The thought that he's said such a thing to her when his abandonment proves it to be a lie enrages me. My ire fuels what I have to do, making it far easier to say the words than I thought it would be.

"Loves me?" I scoff. "You're brother is a selfish prick who fucked his sister's best friend in his car a couple of times. He's trying to justify it now by giving you his bullshit sob story. Let me tell you how it was." My breathing has become ragged as I yell at her venomously. "It's true what Jessica said. I wanted him to be my first, so I set out to get him. It was easy; he's so fucking weak and selfish and doesn't care about anybody but himself. He couldn't keep it in his pants. That's it! That's all it was. He's a pathetic piece of shit who got caught with his pants down and then hid behind his family hoping to get away with it."

Her eyes grow wide with shock. "That's not true!" she protests. "I know he did wrong, but he's just trying to do the right thing, Irina needs him–"

"Edward wouldn't know the right thing if it bit him in the ass!" I scream, heading for the door and flinging it open. "Now get out of my house and don't come back here again!"

She walks slowly towards me, but I keep my eyes trained on the yard outside. My anger is quickly disintegrating as the full force of what I've said starts to dawn on me. She stops by my side, and it takes all the strength I have not to look at her.

"I know we handled it badly, Bella," she says, sighing. "But I know you and I know my brother, so I can tell which one of you is lying. Maybe when you've calmed down we can talk."

Sadness washes over me. I want to take it all back and tell her everything, but then I remember that everything includes the fact that I'm pregnant with Edward's baby. That overrides everything and so I find one final shred of the anger I held before.

"Get out!"

She doesn't argue further. She hurries out, and I slam the door behind her, leaning against it as emotion overcomes me. When I hear her car pull away, I slide to the floor sobbing and wishing that I didn't still love Edward.

And that's where a bewildered Charlie finds me.

He gets down on his knees and cups my cheek in his hand, brushing my tears away with his thumb. He murmurs something to me, his voice so gentle I can't hear it over my cries.

I blink up at him. "I'm ready to call Mom," I force out between shuddering breaths.

Sadness sweeps over his face, and he nods with understanding. But he doesn't understand at all.

He helps me up and pulls me into his arms. A fresh wave of misery engulfs me. "I'm pregnant," I whisper, unable to hold it inside any longer.

I feel him stiffen. "Oh, Bella," he laments.

"I'm so sorry, Dad."

The onslaught doesn't come. I expect him to fly into a rage but instead he holds me while my pain erupts. His hands rub warming circles into my back and I cling to him, needing the comfort I've wanted from him so many times. His jaw rests on my head, and I feel it tremble with every sob that wracks my body.

When the worst of it passes, he helps me to my feet and leads me into the living room. He sits beside me for a few moments, staring at me with sympathetic but bewildered eyes. I drag in a long shuddering breath, and he stands abruptly and paces for a while, alternating between running his hands across the back of his neck and smoothing his moustache with his thumb and forefinger.

He turns to me. "Does he know?"

I shake my head.

"If I knew where he was..." he begins, but doesn't finish the sentence.

"I'm not telling him."

His head whips around. "What?"

"I'm going to go live with Mom. He doesn't need to know. I don't want him involved in this."

He starts to pace again. "He doesn't deserve to know, that's for sure." He stops and rubs his hand down his face. "He's taken everything from you," he seethes, his anger coming to the fore now. "If I ever see him again, I'll kill that fucker!"

"Dad!"

He glares at me with unseeing eyes. "You're eighteen years old. He's ruined your life. How can you go to college now? What about your dreams? He's ran off to God–knows–where and nothing has changed for him." He stops mid-rant and fixes me with a stern stare. "You don't have to go through with this. You can still put it behind you."

My heart aches. "I can't do that."

He closes his eyes, and I've never seen such a defeated look on his face. "I hate this." He jams one hand into his hair while the other clenches into a fist. "How could you be so stupid?" he berates me. "He's a goddamned doctor, didn't he–" His eyes shut tightly, like he can't bear the images behind his lids.

I watch the emotions flit across his face: Anger, disappointment, confusion, helplessness and sadness. His eyes open, revealing yet another emotion: Regret. "I thought you and Alice were good friends. You seemed happy." His eyes dart from side to side like he's looking for answers inside himself. "I know I left you on your own too much, I just..." He looks at me helplessly. "I didn't know how to make you happy, and I guess it was easier to see you enjoy yourself with Alice."

His eyes darken as he swallows hard. He tenses visibly, clenching his fists. "I thought the Cullens were a good family."

My whole body is trembling with emotion. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to let you down."

His head snaps up. "I let you down," he says vehemently. "But I'm going to help you through this, Bella. Anyway I can!"

He spends the next few days walking around under a cloud, struggling to come to terms with what's happening. Sometimes I catch him glaring at me and other times he looks unbearably disappointed. I can't say I blame him, but it's still hard to take.

We haven't talked about it in any great detail. I've done that with Mom instead. She got just as mad as Charlie when I initially told her, but when I spoke to her last night she cried. My tears have all but dried up. I feel dead inside. I still cry myself to sleep every night, and my dreams of Edward break my heart anew every morning.

Renee arrives one Friday to take me to Phoenix, because apparently Charlie doesn't think I'm capable of making the trip alone. He might be right. I listen to their muffled tones drifting up from the kitchen, and it doesn't surprise me when they get louder and harsher and develop into a full-blown argument. The argument doesn't last long, and I wait until they are silent before I pick up my rucksack and head downstairs.

My hand automatically sweeps over my belly when I eye the large suitcase sitting at the bottom of the stairs. It seems pointless taking all of these clothes with me, but I didn't have the heart to stop Charlie filling the case with everything he could get his hands on. He thought he was helping. The weather in Phoenix will be too hot for heavy clothes, and soon my belly will be too big for the rest of my wardrobe.

Renee turns as soon as I step into the room. She tries not to react, but her shock is evident in the brief moment her eyes widen and her jaw slackens. She recovers quickly though, and pulls me into her arms. "You look so pale," she whispers into my hair. "Have you been eating right?"

Charlie makes a huffing noise behind her, and I manage a small smile and an eye-roll when I catch his eye. His smile as small and tight, but at least he tried.

"We should get going," Renee says, stroking my hair back from my face and looking into my eyes.

"You only just got here," I protest.

She glances at Charlie before returning her gaze to me. "I thought it would be easier if I booked a flight straight back."

Charlie stands and holds his hand out. "I'll put your bags in the car."

I slide the rucksack off my shoulder and hand it to him. I take a last look around the kitchen before following my parents outside. I'm surprised when I see Charlie putting my bags into a black sedan.

"I rented a car," Renee explains, catching my expression. "I figured it would be easier than asking Charlie to drive us."

Renee squeezes my arm. "I'll wait in the car."

With shoulders slumped and a frown so deep his moustache is almost concealing his lips, Charlie slopes towards me. He keeps his eyes on the ground for a beat before he finally looks up. The grief in his eyes robs me of breath. I rush down the steps and slam into his chest. Sobs rack my body as long held bitterness finally leaves me.

"I'm sorry," I chant over and over into his chest.

He holds me tight, and I'm transformed into that little girl again who doesn't want to leave her daddy.

"You best not keep your mom waiting," he says gruffly, prising me off him. He kisses my forehead while his thumbs brush away my tears.

"I don't want to go," I whisper, barely able to form the words.

"I don't want you to go either," he croaks. "But you need your mother."

He won't let me argue, and deep down I know I need to leave.

Feeling him press something into my hand, I look down and frown at the roll of bills in my hand. I look up at him, ready to refuse.

"Shhhh. It's not much, it's just a little bit to help you out," he says, closing my fingers around it. "I'll send you some more next month."

"You don't have to do that," I protest, sniffing loudly.

"I want to," he insists. "You're going to need a lot of... new stuff." He hesitates a little. "For you and the... uh... the little one. I'll help you out as much as I can."

I hug him again. "You'll come visit?"

He rubs his hand along the back of his neck and shifts from foot to foot. Sighing loudly, he stares behind me out into the forest. My heart lifts a little when he nods. "I'll come visit," he agrees.

I hug him again and have to force myself to let go when Renee starts the engine.

"Call me when you get there," he says, sounding choked up.

Once again tears are streaming down my face as I get into the car. I press my hand to the window as Renee backs out of the driveway, and Charlie raises his slowly as we pull away. My eyes stay focussed on him until my tears wash his image away.

Something breaks inside me as we leave Forks behind. The finality of it guts me. The pain of all my broken dreams slices through me with the sharpness of a cold, stark reality that I can't accept. I thought I'd be leaving with Edward, heading into a bright new future. But instead I'm skulking out of town like the dirty secret I am.

Time passes unnoticed. Even though the days have been interminably long and the nights excruciatingly so, time has passed. I can barely remember the month spent in Phoenix before we moved out here to Florida. I have vague recollections of packing boxes and following Renee's frantic orders, but my head was too filled with my own painful memories for me to be of any use.

I spend most of my days looking out at the sea. Mostly from my room, but occasionally, when the sun sets and the sun worshipers and families leave, I'll wander out onto the sand and listen to the calming rhythm of water washing sand.

The beach is usually quiet at this time, save for a few dog walkers. A few times I've been startled out of my miserable stupor by a wet muzzle pressing against my cheek.

I look across the water at the dying sun. My eyes drift upward, taking in nature's beautiful canvas as purple clouds streak across a vivid coral haze. I wonder what the sky looks like where Edward is. It's hard to imagine that we live beneath the same one. He might as well be on a different planet. I know it feels like I am.

"Hey."

Renee's soft voice drifts on the breeze. She settles down beside me and slides her arm across my shoulder. "You've been out here for hours."

I shrug.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"What?" I ask.

"The sunset."

I look again at the dark purple hews of the clouds drifting across the coral sky. It doesn't inspire any sort of appreciation in me. Nothing does anymore.

"I'm worried about you, baby," she murmurs, laying her head on my shoulder. "This isn't healthy."

When she starts to talk, I tune her out by focussing on the sound of the waves. I don't want to hear about how abnormal I am, or how I need to start thinking about the future. She's said it all before, and I care even less now than I did the first twenty times.

A flutter in my stomach distracts me momentarily.

"... so Phil and I were thinking maybe you should see someone..."

The next flutter is stronger. Like bubbles bursting in a staccato beat across my abdomen. My head dips, and I watch distractedly as my hand slides across the small bump that's gone largely unnoticed by me.

"What is it?"

Renee lifts her head off my shoulder, looking down at my hand.

"I don't know," I reply.

"Are you in pain?" she asks, concern etched on her face.

I feel it again. A tiny ripple beneath my hand and a more insistent shift deeper inside.

"I think the baby just moved," I gasp.

Like throwing open the drapes in a darkened room, my mind clears of the dark haze that has enveloped me for so long. I grab Renee's hand and place it beneath mine. I can barely breathe from the anticipation.

"I think I felt it," Renee cries, pressing her hand closer.

A surge of emotion boils up from my stomach into my throat, warming me from the inside out. Breathing life into my soul. A rare chink of light in my darkness.

Over time the flutters gets stronger – as do I. Tiny thumps become strong kicks, each one bringing another seed of hope. Maybe I can do this, maybe there is a future for the two of us.

With each day I find new resolve. I make calls to Charlie and for the first time in my life we really talk. At first it's difficult, but he follows my lead when I open up to him and I start to enjoy our conversations. I can't help but wish we'd found this level of understanding when I lived with him.

I never ask him about Edward, even though deep down I'm aching to know. But every time I almost crack, a little voice inside me tells me what I don't know can't hurt me. Charlie never offers any information up either. It's become an unwritten rule between us.

When I first registered for pre-natal care I attended all the appointments alone, but the day I came home with my first sonogram photo changed all that. Renee was devastated. She took the photo from me and tears filled her eyes when she looked at it.

The memory of the hurt in her eyes will never leave me. She looked up at me, lips trembling and told me I could either treat this baby like it was something to be ashamed of, or I could embrace the hand that fate has dealt me and make the most of it.

I chose the latter, and Renee was at my side through every appointment after that.

By the time I reach my eighth month, the spectre of child birth starts to hover over me and I'm back to staring at the sea. Most days there are thoughts of Edward – I worry that will never change – but for now the fear of childbirth is enough to divert my thoughts.

A soft knock on my door snaps me out of my reverie. "Come in," I call, rising stiffly to my feet.

"You ready?" Renee asks. "For our shopping trip," she clarifies when I stare at her in confusion.

I stifle my groan. "I don't remember agreeing," I point out.

She steps fully into the room with my chucks dangling from her fingers. "Sit down," she orders. "I'll tie the laces for you."

I sag onto the bed, supporting my bulky body on my elbows while Renee puts my shoes on for me.

Fatigue sets in pretty quickly as she drags me around the mall, buying some things I'll need for the hospital. She pulls me towards the baby carriages to show me the one she's bought. While she tells me it'll be delivered after the birth, I try not to look at the smiling couples meandering through the aisles. I try not to look at their happy faces as they test out some of the products. There's a happy atmosphere in the store that is stifling, and unable to endure the loneliness it incites in me, I rush for the door.

"I feel faint," I lie when Renee finds me leaning over the railings outside.

She shoots me a knowing glance, but plays along. "Okay, let's get you home."

The closer to home we get the more excited she seems. I can't fathom why, but I lack the energy to try to figure her out.

Phil rushes outside when we arrive, grabbing all the bags while he nods at Renee. I follow them into the house feeling like I'm missing a joke or something.

"We have a surprise for you," Renee says, grabbing my arm and squeezing my hand gently.

She leads me upstairs while I look over my shoulder at Phil who is following close behind. My breathing is deeper as I reach the top but Renee pulls me on down the hallway to my bedroom. She swings open the door and leads me inside.

"Well?" she asks, beaming proudly.

Her eyes are trained on the corner left of the doorway. I turn and follow her gaze to see a crib has been set up in the corner, with a changing table and other baby paraphernalia set beside it. A teddy bear frieze has been pasted to that portion of the wall, and a colourful mobile hangs over the crib.

Misery claws its way up from my gut into my throat, dragging guilt with it. I force myself to smile and thank them and somehow manage to keep my composure until they finally leave me to rest. As soon as the door closes behind them, my fist flies to my mouth and I bite down on the back of my hand to stifle the sobs.

I stare at the tiny corner of my room that is all that I can offer my baby. Feeling ungrateful, I try to fight the despondency the sight of it fills me with.

But I'm not strong enough to fight off the images of Edward and Irina that come unbidden to mind. I lie on my side on the bed with my back to the crib while visions of Edward and Irina happily decorating a full nursery for their baby torture me.

Tears soak my pillow as I imagine Edward beaming proudly at their handiwork as his hand moves protectively over Irina's swollen belly. Despite everything, I still yearn for him. Sometimes in my weakest days I want to find him and tell him that I'm having his baby too. I want him to tell me that he made a terrible mistake and he does love me after all. But in this case, his inaction spoke louder than words.

He doesn't want me. There's no reason to think a baby would change that.

A strong kick brings me to my senses. My sobs shudder to a halt, and I wrap my arms around my belly whispering softly.

"It's okay, baby," I croon. "We'll be okay. I'll love you so much. I'll never leave you."

Another sharp jab brings a small smile to my face. The bond I already feel with my baby is as tangible as the movement beneath my fingers. The thought of loving and being loved by this new life sustains me. I know this love is mine to have and mine to give.

And I won't let anyone take it away from me.

"It's just you and me," I whisper.


Renee hovers. She plumps the pillows on my bed, adjusts the curtains just a little bit wider, winds up Jacob's mobile – and regards me intently.

Finally I wrench my eyes from my son and face her.

"We need to talk," she says gently.

"Mom, I just got home. I'm tired."

She takes my hand when she sits beside me on the edge of the bed. Jacob snuffles and I lurch forward. Her hand tightens.

"You cried for him."

I gaze lovingly at my boy. "I'll always cry for him."

Renee sighs. "Edward. You cried for Edward. All through the birth. We have to talk about this."

"Why?" I ask sharply, annoyed by her timing.

"Because I can't sit back and let you make this decision without discussing it."

"What decision?"

Her fingers curl around my jaw turning my face to hers, tilting it so I have no choice but to meet her gaze.

"I know you don't want to tell Edward, but that little boy's gonna need a father."

Rage erupts. "He doesn't need to be second best in anyone's eyes," I spit.

She grips my upper arms. "You can't replace one kind of love with another."

I frown at her. "What are you talking about."

A cynical smile plays on her lips as she shakes her head. "His name. I looked it up in that book of baby names you spent so much time reading."

My eyes snap to hers.

"The supplanter," she says with purpose. "At first I didn't see the connection, because it's very tenuous," she says, making eye contact. "But it's there. I may not be well educated, but I can find my way around a dictionary."

I looked for names with meaning, there were so many but I settled on Jacob because I liked both the name and the very vague nature of what it meant to me. But Renee is on to me.

"To remove, succeed or replace," she chants as if she's reading straight from the dictionary right now. "Is that what he means to you? Do you think he's removing the love you had for his father... replacing it... succeeding it?"

Maybe the origins were there. I chose the name because deep down I know he has replaced something inside me that has been missing since Edward left.

I gaze into his crib, my fingers trace the outline of his beautiful face softly. It's so much more than that now. I never knew a love like this could exist. He's not taking anyone's place; he doesn't need to usurp anything from my soul. From the moment I heard him wail through his first breath, my life clicked into place.

One look at him and I'm filled with a love that is so powerful I know I would withstand any amount of pain just to keep it from touching him. I would fight with my dying breath to protect him, and I will love him so fiercely he will never doubt it.

She doesn't wait for a response. She continues on. "I still think you should tell him, baby. It's not right,"

The slow breath I let out is deliberate, a sigh suppressed. "Not today," I say.

"I won't let it go," she warns.

I raise my eyes to hers. "Give me a couple of weeks?" I plead. "I promise we'll talk about it."

She brushes her lips across my cheek before slipping out the door.

I reach into the crib and scoop Jacob into my arms, pressing my nose to his downy head. The scent of him tugs at my heart, my womb, my soul.

"I love you," I murmur, clenching my eyes as I savour his scent. "I'll love you so much you won't need anything else.

He turns his head to my breast, and we feed each other in different ways.0


Thank you to Mel for asking me to write this.

Thank you for reading.

Kat