Chapter 6

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Bella's POV ~

I tipped my head up, crossing my arms across my chest, with my jacket draped across my right arm. I was still at the hospital, slightly behind my father as he finished filling out the paperwork for my release. My phone was in my back pocket, I hadn't checked it in a while in fear of seeing something I didn't want to. At the moment I haven't worked up the courage for it.

My father let out a long sigh as he passed the clipboard over the desk and asked if I was good to go, and a few minutes later, we were in the car, we barely said a word to each other. I knew that he got scared getting the call that I was in the hospital. The last time he had a call like that the most important woman in his life never came home.

"So, I think we should talk," he finally spoke up, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel - was he angry? I felt like a kid getting caught with my hands on the cookie jar.

"Yeah, of course," I said warily, my stomach twisting and knotting in fear of what was coming next.

"I think you should take time off work." he said.

"For how long?" I questioned, biting my lower lip.

"Indefinitely."

"You want me to quit?" I demanded.

"Bella, when you told me you wanted to work I was clear on the rules, if it started to affect your health or your schooling it would have to end." he told me, his voice sounding final.

"But it wasn't because of work, dad," I explained in a pleading tone. "I just got a shock, that was it, I like working, I like paying my own way, don't make me quit, please."

"I damn near had a heart attack when I got that call, Bella." he whispered.

"Then I will be more responsible, I won't work past nine on school nights, I'll cut back my hours, but I don't want to quit."

"I don't know." He told me.

"Please? Please, don't take this from me." I begged. He looked over towards me, and his eyes flickered back to the road quickly.

"I will think about it, but I really don't like it." he said, pulling into the driveway.

Climbing out of the car, I shut my eyes, enjoying the breeze on my face for a brief moment before letting out a sigh and shutting the door. I followed in suit, walking up the front steps right behind my dad and waiting patiently as he unlocked the door.

"My head hurts," I complained, lifting my hand to the bandage over my stitches.

"The doctor said that's normal, take your medication and go rest, you need it. You look like you just crawled out of hell." he told me.

"Thanks," I muttered back sarcastically and grinned, "but no, we drove away from it."

He laughed at me and gave me the small brown bag holding my prescription. With a nod, he escaped to the living room and I almost immediately heard the tv turn on. I left to go upstairs and detoured to the bathroom to pour a glass of water and take two of my pills for the pain.

I knew they were going to put me to sleep, so I quickly escaped to my room and curled up in my favorite comforter, dropping to my bed.

My thoughts drifted back to the forbidden zone and my mind was full of Edward. I breathed deeply through my nose, and reached down into my jeans pocket to pull out my phone. Realizing, I also unbuttoned them and wiggled out of them.

Then I did it. Heart in my throat, and every instinct in me telling me I most certainly do not want to talk to him right now. But I did. I did. I unlocked my phone and there were messages from him. Plural.

"I can't believe it's you, I never thought.."

"we have to talk."

"I really hope you're okay."

"I'm so sorry."

"Call me."

The last message included his number, and as I stared at the message.. I seriously debated it.

"I can't right now." I told him.

He was quick to respond.

"Right, I understand, maybe later when you're free."

"I don't want to talk on the phone I hate phones." I told him.

"Okay, I understand."

I didn't know what to say here. Of course I didn't want to talk on the phone. Why would I? So he could tell me he doesn't like me that way? No thanks. I didn't bother to think of a response, I just buried myself deep into my covers, curling into a ball and shutting my eyes.

I don't think I could take rejection. Not from him. I care for him. Why did he have to be so beautiful?

I was dwelling, thinking of him. It made me sad. The last thing I remember before falling asleep, was the pain of a broken heart, thumping in my chest.

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