Adult-FanFiction.org : Books

The Practice of Love	By : belladonnacullen Category: Twilight Series > AU/AR > Het > Het Views: 2642 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or make any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
BPOV
“And then what did you do?” Rosalie asked, literally on the edge of her seat. She was perched so precariously on her stainless steel folding chair, and she’d had so much to drink that I was seriously worried she might fall onto the sidewalk.

It was Friday night, my designated night out with the girls. Or, more accurately, my designated night out with my friend, Rosalie Hale. I was much more comfortable in one on one situations, and generally shied away from large group outings.

I’d been dying to get together with Rose tonight. I hadn’t been able to get Edward Masen out of my head for more than twenty minutes since I saw him yesterday afternoon, and I hadn’t had anyone to talk to about it. I alternated between internally cringing at the thought of the prescription I’d given Edward, to well, doing other things when I thought about him… in the shower, and in bed, and, I’ll admit it, in the car. I wasn’t having that trouble with my bullet anymore, that was for certain. Now, I had trouble putting it away before Jake caught me. I hoped talking about it with Rose would help put things into perspective.

Rosalie and I had been friends ever since our first year of residency. Well, not at first. She was so strong and independent and brilliant and confident that I’d been completely intimidated by her. Plus, she was beautiful: tall and blonde like Gianna, but where Gianna was rail thin and slim-hipped, Rosalie had curves like those starlets back in the forties and fifties did. In a nutshell, I’d thought Rosalie was everything that I wasn’t. It took six months and one harrowing, tear-filled night shift together in the emergency department, to find out that Rosalie had actually considered me to be her nemesis all along. She’d been jealous of me: my brain, my daughter, my life. Incredible. We’d been friends ever since.

Tonight, Rosalie and I were at one of our favorite summertime spots, this little Mexican café in my neighborhood with outdoor tables and the best margaritas I’d ever had. We were seated along the sidewalk, taking advantage of the meager, warmish breeze. It was the best you could hope for in Philly in August.

I wasn’t a big drinker, but tonight I’d asked for a pitcher. Rosalie didn’t object, she was always on my case, trying to get me to loosen up. I was on my second glass, feeling pretty damned loose, when I’d finally started in on my mystery man story.

“He just turned up unannounced and demanded that the intern let him through to see you? Oh. My. God. Bell!” Rosalie reached across the table and shook me a little.

“What did you do?”

What had I done after I walked into reception yesterday, to see a beautiful and sweaty Edward at the window, asking for me? Well, first of all, I’d stopped in my tracks and attempted to breathe while my heart tried to knock right through my rib cage. And then I tried blinking, because there was a good chance I was daydreaming. After all, I’d been fantasizing about Edward Masen the entire morning.

But it only took a second to see that he was for real, because even my wildest dreams hadn’t done him justice: the glimmering, blond highlights in his hair, the flecks of gold in his eyes, the subtle five o’clock shadow, even though it was just past noon. And my dreams didn’t exactly replicate the way his presence made my body feel: flustered and alive. Really alive.

I caught Rosalie looking at me expectantly, sipping on her drink and waiting for a response. The tequila was really getting in the way of moving these thoughts from my mind to my mouth.

“I brought him back to my office to give him his results,” I finally replied, matter-of-factly.

“Just you and him, alone in your office?” Rose grinned, her pale blue eyes narrowing.

“What was I supposed to do? Send him back to work and tell him to call me from there?”

“Maybe… given the way you feel about him.”

“I don’t feel any way about him,” I shot back, lying through my teeth.

“Okay, given the way you feel about his man parts,” she giggled.

“Did you just say ‘man parts’?” I laughed. “I might be wrong here, but don’t you supervise interns over at Penn Emergency? ‘Man parts’, Rosalie? What would your interns say?” We’d definitely had too much to drink.

“Don’t try to change the subject, Bell. You’ve had dreams about him, you’ve admired him, and then, the next day, you get all up close and personal with him when he shows up at the office?”

And she hadn’t even heard about the lab and the fainting and the lunch.

“If you ask me, this guy sounds like a freak,” she continued. “Can’t he just make an appointment like everyone else?”

“Hey! He thought he had cancer! He’s not a freak,” I huffed, folding my arms across my chest, hurt almost as if she’d personally insulted me.

Rose held up her hands in a gesture of surrender, and she accidently slipped backwards on her seat, her bare back slapping against the metal chair. She giggled a little and righted herself, before continuing. “Excuse me, Bell. I wouldn’t want to insult the man of your dreams. And for the record, it’s reactions like that, that make me think this is about more than man parts.”

Well, if she wanted to be so specific, it was also about his eyes, and his jaw, and his large hands and long fingers, and his chest…

“He was just nervous, and hypoglycemic,” I said in his defense.

“Hypoglycemic?”

But before I could explain further, a bulldog started slobbering all over Rosalie’s bare legs. The tattooed guy at the other end of the dog’s leash wasn’t doing much better in the slobbering department. Rose patted the dog’s head and giggled, and the owner took it as a sign of encouragement. Poor guy, he didn’t have a chance. No guy had a chance with Rose, these days.

While I waited for Rose to send the her new tattoo-y friend packing, which I knew she would, my mind drifted to its new favorite subject: Edward Masen. The unexpected intimacy of yesterday’s blood draw had taken my breath away. Our faces had been so close together that I could feel his breath on my neck. And his eyes… that close up I could see how the gold and green of his irises made it look like there was a light shining behind them. They were pretty: man pretty.

He’d started sweating again in the lab, and it was like his own personal cologne was seeping from his pours. I watched it trickle down his temple, and I resisted the urge to wipe it away. So I looked at his arm, just his arm. But after he passed out, I did touch Edward’s face, and I’d held his hand for about ten seconds.

“No! I have your number. I’ll call you,” Rosalie was saying, pretty forcefully. Her voice had risen enough to jar me from my thoughts.

“It’s just my phone, it won’t bite,” the guy laughed, dangling his cell under Rosalie’s nose.

Rosalie pushed the phone away dismissively. “I’ll call. I promise.” She rolled her eyes and turned away from tattoo man. He hadn’t had a chance in hell.

“You’re never going to call him, are you?” I asked, once the guy managed to drag his dog away.

“Nope,” Rosalie answered, taking a long swig and draining her glass. “Should we get another?”

“Another pitcher? Are you out of your mind?”

“Another glass. Another pitcher and I’d have to carry you home.”

“You didn’t even save his number, did you?”

“Un uh.”

“Rose, it’s been forever. He seemed nice. And his dog liked you.”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“What was the subject?”

“You were saying that your mystery man was hypoglycemic.” My god, it felt like we’d been talking about that hours ago.

“Well, I think he was so nervous about the cancer, he hadn’t been eating. So, when I drew his blood --”

“Wait a second there, how did things go from, ‘No, Mr. Fuck-Me-Gorgeous,' you don’t have cancer,” to a blood draw?” Rosalie asked, helping herself to the last of my margarita.

“The lab tech was out for lunch,” I shrugged, “and I drew his blood and he fainted.”

Rose spit out the last of my drink. “No fucking way! He passed out?” She immediately tried to blot the splattered margarita with our little paper napkins. But it was a losing battle. The waiter saw our sad plight and came over with a proper towel and offered to get us a couple more drinks.

“Uh huh,” I admitted after the waiter left. “And this is where it gets weird.”

“This is where it gets weird? At what point has this story been normal?”

“We had lunch in my office.” And I think I sat too close to him. And I think I said too much. And then I gave him a prescription for joy, and I’d included the sex part. I told my patient to get laid. Brilliant, Swan, just brilliant! I cringed in my seat, and tried to hide my blushing face with my salted glass.

“Holy crap, Bell! You had a date with him!”

What? “It was not a date! I’m his doctor and he was hypoglycemic. It lasted about fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes with a man you’ve been dreaming about! With the well-endowed man you’re lusting over. It was a date,” she sang, taunting me.

“Rose! I’m serious. It’s over. He’s fine, he doesn’t have cancer, and I pretty much told him not to come back. In fact, he already had a lunch date. He just forgot because of the results. He must have a girlfriend.”

“He forgot about his date because of you?” Rose waggled her eyebrows.

“Not because of me! Because of cancer.”

“And why do you care if he has a girlfriend?”

“I don’t.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

I sighed. The problem was that it was much more fun to talk about Edward than the other, more important things I should be thinking about. “James, my ex: he’s the real problem. I just found out that he’s moving to Trenton, and I think he’s been having me watched.”

“What? Why am I just hearing about this now?” Rose banged her glass on the tabletop for emphasis.

“Because I’m a negligent mom and a bad girlfriend that can’t keep track of her priorities.”

“Stop it, Bell. You’re the best mom I know.”

“I’m the only mom you know.”

“I see moms every day. I have a mom.”

“You know what I mean.”

“James isn’t here yet, though?”

“No. His sister told me he’s coming in a couple weeks. I haven’t heard from him or anything. But it’s still creepy, and when I think about it, I’m scared to death. I mean, Nessie’s never even met him.”

“Well, it all makes a little more sense now.”

“What does?”

“This whole mystery man patient thingy. I know you, Bell. In all these years you’ve never looked at a patient, or another intern, or a supervisor the wrong way. You’re by the book. And, I’m not a huge Jake fan, you know that, but you’re devoted to your family.”

I wished I felt as confident in my innocence as Rosalie did.

“This guy’s a distraction, just when you really need one.”

“Yeah, I figured that out on my own, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.

“I don’t think there’s anything I can do about James, but Jake wants me to see a lawyer just to make sure. I can’t even concentrate, though. I sit in front of my computer and look at lists of attorneys, and the hundreds of names all blur together. I try to look through Pennsylvania law about custody and protective orders and stuff, and my eyes just glaze over. And I feel so guilty: about keeping Nessie safe, and about what this means for me and Jake, and about my job, and --”

“Bell!” Rosalie grabbed my wrist, silencing me. “Give yourself a break. James isn’t even here yet.”

The waiter came back with two fresh margaritas and a stack of napkins, but sensing the tension at the table, he high-tailed it out of there without a word.

“Well, here’s what you have to do…” Rosalie continued. “I actually agree with Jake. You need to see a lawyer about James. Find a good one and just see what they have to say. And then, when that’s settled, you’ve got to find your mystery man, and you have to talk to him outside the office. No doctor patient thing. Just a man and a woman kind of thing.”

“But, Rosalie, the one glaring omission in your plan is that I have a boyfriend! A live-in boyfriend.” And that mystery man was so far out of my league, even if there were no Jake, her plan would be laughable.

“Then just stop thinking about your patient.”

“It isn’t that easy.” What did I even think about before I started thinking about Edward Masen? I was pathetic.

“Okay, so you’re not going to go for it with the guy, and you’re not going to stop thinking about him… not a problem.”

“Not a problem? Do you know the definition of the word problem, Rosalie?”

“He is what he is. Your mystery man is your fantasy, your escape. Your Calgon take me away. Your Harry Potter, or your… what’s the name of those vampire books all the girls like? Whatever, the point is, he’s like a safety valve. And if you’re not going to act on it, then it’s harmless.”

Then Rosalie nearly tipped her chair over, jumping in her seat. She clutched my hand excitedly. “Have you Googled him yet?”

“No!” I couldn’t Google a patient, could I? Could there be pictures of him on-line? I gulped. Maybe there were. And I knew exactly what would happen if there were, and it was embarrassing. I’d found enough things to do with my own imaginary pictures. I thought about last night (Thursdays were Jake’s night out with the guys), when I’d ended up on my back on the bed, halfway out of my bathrobe, damp and panting. No, I certainly didn’t need a picture.

“You should Google him. We should Google him!”

“No!” I shouted loud enough that the two girls at the table next to us turned to stare. “I can’t tell you his name,” I continued, in a much more appropriate tone of voice.

Rosalie narrowed her eyes at me. My ethics were apparently getting in the way of her fun.

She tried a different tack. “What does he do?”

“I don’t know.”

“You said he’s got muscles, right? Maybe he’s in construction, or a trainer?”

“No, he was wearing a suit yesterday, and his hands were soft and smooth, and he had really clean nails.”

“Do you hear yourself, Bell? You’ve seen him twice and you know all about his hands. You’re sure he’s just a fantasy?”

“It was a really nice suit,” I continued, kind of oblivious, lost in my memories. “And he was wearing this silver-gray tie, and a gray-green shirt. It made his eyes pop.”

Rosalie smiled, but knew enough to let it go. She was a good friend. “Maybe he’s a banker, then?”

I scrunched my nose. “I hope not, that sounds boring.”

“Why would it matter, if he’s just a fantasy?”

She was right. It shouldn’t matter. It didn’t matter. Why did it seem to matter?

“Well, if he’s just a fantasy, I’d like it to be a good fantasy. I don’t want a fantasy banker, for god’s sake. He looks very, mouthwateringly good in a suit, so I don’t want to change the suit part. I just want him to be something suited and exciting.”

“A lawyer?” Rosalie guessed.

I liked the idea of that. “Yeah, one of those lawyers that fights for the underdog. He’d be on a mission to make the world a better place.”

“Like Erin Brokovich?” Rosalie suggested, tittering.

“Erin Brokovich wasn’t the lawyer, you ninny. She was a single mom that dated a biker and lived in a polluted town.”

“We could make you the Erin Brokovich in your fantasy, then. In your fantasy, we’ll dress you up all slutty, and your boobs will be bigger, and we’ll have to get you some hair extensions.”

“Rose!” I chastised, but I was smiling. I’d wear a skimpy skirt and I’d be all driven about some very just cause…

“He’d be the kind of attorney that took on the bad guy, and won against the odds, all for you. And he’d celebrate with a glass of champagne, on his yacht. He’d dock it at Cape May, where he had one of those old Victorian beach houses. There would be sheer white curtains blowing through the big, bay window right off the wrap-around porch. And you’d show up all slutty and big chested, wanting to thank him for saving your town. He’d know just how you could thank him, over and over and over again. How’s that for a fantasy?”

I’d started giggling halfway through Rosalie’s story, and by the time she was done, I was laughing so hard that my sides hurt, and I could hardly breathe. I had to admit it; it was a damn good fantasy. Edward would answer the door dressed casually, wearing jeans that hung on his hips, and a really thin T-shirt, barefoot, and he’d be going commando. I felt my face growing redder, and Rosalie noticed immediately.

“What? Tell me!”

I just shook my head, laughing, still unable to talk, admiring the way Edward’s eyes raked over me, in my slutty fantasy get-up.

“Fine then, keep it to yourself. I’m glad I could help.” Rosalie paused to take a sip of her drink, and made a face.

“Too sour?” I guessed. Mine tasted a little off this time.

“Maybe you could take your fantasy out on Jake,” she suggested, still looking a little green around the gills.

“No, I couldn’t do that.”

“I hear it works. Just close your eyes.”

“Rose!”

Rosalie shrugged. “Just a suggestion.”

I actually hadn’t gone near Jake that way since I’d met Edward. Jake assumed it was because of James, and I let him.

“You know I’d never betray Jake.”

“I’m not talking betrayal. Geez, Bell! Don’t be so dramatic.”

I sighed. “I know. It’s just that he loves me and Ness, you know?”

“And you love him?”

“Of course,” I added quickly. “Of course I do. It’s not a question.”

“I don’t usually hear you say it, though.”

“I’ve known Jake forever. Sometimes you don’t have to say it.”

“Maybe. You seem to have plenty to say about this mystery patient of yours, though.”

“That’s different. Jake and I have a life together.”

“I don’t see a ring on your finger.”

“I didn’t do so well the last time I had a ring on my finger, Rose. I mean, I just told you about my potential stalker of an ex. So, excuse me if I’m not a big believer in rings on fingers these days. Jake and I are fine just the way we are.”

“He must have asked you by now.”

I sighed again. Rosalie was tenacious. On the job, it worked in her favor. But right about now, it was just making me angry.

“He knows what I’d say,” I muttered, looking out towards the tree-lined street.

“And he still sticks around. Poor puppy.”

“That’s enough, Rose! Like you’re one to talk about relationships. When was the last time you were even on a date? Having a quickie in the supply closet doesn’t count, by the way.”

Rosalie shook her head like I’d slapped her and took a long sip of her margarita. When she looked back at me, her pale blue eyes were glittery, like she was blinking away tears.

“God, Rose, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to --”

“No, it’s okay. If I dish it, I should be able to take it.” Rosalie wiped her eyes and attempted a smile. I reached across the table and pulled her into an awkward and unbalanced hug.

“That guy was an asshole, Rose. You can do better, you just have to give yourself a chance.” I sat back down, afraid the two of us were going to tip over, but I kept hold of Rosalie’s hand.

“It sounds stupid now, but I thought he was the one, Bell. He talked about kids, and a house, and introducing me to his parents, all while he fucked me in the supply closet. I should have known.”

I wondered how Rosalie would have known. Jake would never have fucked me in a supply closet. Did that make him the one? Or was it just the way he loved Nessie and me, the way he did everything he could for us? If that was enough, why weren’t we married?

Maybe we should get married.

But my stomach turned violently at the thought. I’d had too many margaritas. And I wasn’t ready for marriage again. Jake knew that, he understood, he didn’t push me on it. Of course I knew his family wanted it. His dad and mine were good friends. They were happy seeing Jake and I together. But I noticed how my dad glanced at my hand every time we visited home, and I knew what it meant when Jake get all exasperated after talking with his sisters on the phone. Maybe we couldn’t stay in this holding pattern forever.

“So, how’s the new job?” Rose asked. With the spotlight off of my relationship, I brightened instantly.

“It’s really good! Dr. Cullen’s really nice and knowledgeable, and I like the pace. I pretty much have regular hours, and he’s flexible with time off. But he still uses paper charts.” I scrunched up my nose and Rosalie rolled her eyes.

“Well there’s new legislation, I think. He’ll have to give those up soon enough.”

“Thank god! My office is swimming in them. E-, I mean, my patient, had to practically save me from being buried in them yesterday.”

“Your patient, ‘Eh’? As in Ernie? Elton? Emery?”

“That wasn’t his name, I was just coughing.” I held my hand up to my mouth. “Eh, eh,” I faked. “See?”

Rosalie rolled her eyes again. “You’re the worst liar ever.”

I pretended that I hadn’t slipped with the name. “Everyone’s worked there forever, so they’re like a family, in a way. And they’ve been really nice. Well, all except this one nurse, Angela.”

“What’s her deal?”

“She saw that I invited that patient to lunch, and she’s avoided me and given me looks ever since. I know sharing a sandwich is a walking the line a little, but it was just lunch. It’s not like she caught us naked in the lab.”

Rosalie gave me a sly look with my ‘naked in the lab’ comment, but let it go at that. “Maybe you should say something to her?”

“I don’t want to make a bigger deal over it than it is. I hope it just blows over. Oh! I was even invited to Dr. Cullen’s anniversary party this weekend.”

“Ooh! What kind of party?” Rosalie’s eyes lit up. She loved parties, and weddings, and benefit galas, and well, just about any occasion where she could dress up and hobnob. In some ways she really was everything I wasn’t. I’d rather be reading a book at the playground while Nessie played with her friends. “What are you going to wear?”

“I’m not going to wear anything. I can’t go.”

“What? Won’t it look bad, not going when you were just hired? This is no time to play hermit, Bell.”

“It was a last minute invite. His daughter Alice only told me about it me yesterday afternoon. It’s on the same day as Nessie’s best friend’s birthday party at the zoo. She’s been looking forward to it forever.”

I’d been surprised to get the call from Alice Cullen. I’d never spoken to her before, and she’d acted like she already knew me, or something. She’d practically begged me to come. And even after I told her I’d had other plans, she persisted in giving me the address and directions, and told me not to bring a gift, just a stone.

“A stone?” I’d asked, my interest piqued.

“It’s a family tradition. Any size, it doesn’t matter.”

“Alice, I don’t --”

“I know what you’re going to say. But dad thinks of everyone he works with as family. Which is why I really want to meet you, and I know Esme’s just going to love you.”

My boss’s wife would love me? “I don’t know.”

“If your plans change for Sunday, the invitation still stands. It will mean so much to dad to see you there.”

“Um, sure, Alice. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Can’t Jakey-poo take her to the birthday party?” Rosalie asked.

“No. Jake has to cover for Paul at the garage on Sunday. And, I’m sure Jess would do it, but she’s got to supervise the whole kiddie party, and she’ll be watching her three nephews, as well as Jonah. I’d hate to add Ness to all of that. She can be a handful.”

“Ahem, aren’t you forgetting someone?”

“Who?”

“Bell, this is important for your job. I can take Ness to the party. I’d like to have kids myself some day. I think I could handle one for a couple hours.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

We left the restaurant pretty soon after that. Rosalie was on call early the next morning, and I was half passed out already. It had been a physically and emotionally draining couple of days. I had a life that I had to deal with, no matter how messy and unattractive James was threatening to make it. I wanted to feel better that I’d decided that Edward Masen would be nothing more than my innocent escape from all of it. But I didn’t.

I felt even worse than after he’d left my office yesterday, when I saw how barren my office was without his pretty eyes to decorate it. When the rest of the day, hell, the rest of my life, stretched out before me, and I worried that I might never feel the way his presence made me feel again. It only took me a couple of seconds to write the prescription and practically run him down in the hallway.

The prescription was for both of us, really. Edward told me he hadn’t been trying. He deserved joy, all humans did. We both did. I don’t think I’d even realized until that moment, alone in my office, that I wasn’t happy. I loved my daughter more than anything. And, when I’d dreamed about what I’d make of my life, this was exactly what I thought it would look like. I’d accomplished everything I’d set out to do. But it hadn’t brought me joy.

What else could I want? A vision of Edward’s fingertips brushing against mine flashed through my head, and that thrill I felt with his touch surged under my skin. No, I couldn’t substitute a fantasy. I was going to have to give my real life an honest chance at joy. I was smart; I’d figure it out. Jake and Nessie deserved as much.
- 4
- 5
- 6
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Practice of Love