Chapter 7

After finishing in the bathroom, Bella joined Fallon at the table for dinner.

"Where's Dad?" she asked casually, bowl in hand.

"Your father's not home. He started a new job recently—doesn't come back for lunch anymore." Fallon waved the question away. "Never mind that. How did that blind date go? The one I set up?"

"How did what go?"

Fallon, already anxious, grew more agitated at Bella's nonchalant tone.

"Did he like you or not? You're not getting any younger, you know. You can't live at home forever. If you get married soon, you could have a baby right away, and I'd still be young enough to help with childcare." She paused dramatically. "In a few more years, who knows if my health will hold up."

Bella set down her utensils, irritation flashing across her face. "Mom, are you seriously jinxing yourself right now?"

Seeing Fallon about to lose her temper, she sighed. "Look, don't get your hopes up about this one, okay?"

Fallon's face fell. "It failed again? That can't be right. I checked with him—he said he was quite impressed with you." Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she put down her utensils like a prosecutor ready for cross-examination. "What did you do? You must have done something to scare him off."

Bella stared at the food on the table, her appetite completely gone.

God, she thought, we really need a "no talking during meals" rule in this house. Next time, she'd insist on it. Otherwise, every dinner with her mother turned into an interrogation about her love life, and she'd never finish a meal.

The silence between them turned glacial.

"I'm done," Bella announced, standing abruptly. "This conversation is going nowhere, and I've lost my appetite."

She grabbed her violin case from the couch on her way out. After all, retrieving her instrument was the whole reason she'd come home in the first place—her trusty violin that she'd accidentally left behind during her last visit.

"Stop right there!" Fallon charged after her from the living room. "I say just a few words and you can’t stand it?"

Bella paused at the doorway, sighing again.

This was exactly why she avoided coming home. Every visit, her mother's conversation inevitably circled back to marriage. Three sentences in and they were back to "find a man and settle down." Fallon was about to turn Bella—someone naturally indifferent to marriage—into a commitment-phobe through sheer persistence.

But what could she do?

This was her mother. Blood of her blood.

The thought hit her especially hard when she noticed Fallon's slightly reddened eyes.

Fallon turned away to wipe her tears, throwing out one last barb, "I just want you to have a stable life. Is that so wrong?"

Bella set down her violin case and guided her mother to the living room couch, attempting to comfort her.

After several minutes of reassurance, Fallon finally calmed down.

"Maybe he just changed his mind," Bella explained gently. "Isn't that how these setups work? We can't control what other people think. Let's just move on."

"This one didn't work out, but the next guy might be perfect for me, right?"

Fallon laughed despite herself, then shot Bella a look. "What nonsense you talk!"

As Bella prepared to leave, Fallon shoved containers of homemade food into her hands. "Take these. I know you hardly ever cook for yourself. This should last you a while."

Bella stared at the growing pile in her arms. "Enough, Mom! I literally can't carry any more."

Fallon reluctantly stopped, though Bella could see her mother's eyes still darting around the house, hunting for more things to send with her.

That's how family works, Bella thought—harsh words on the surface, pure love underneath.

"Oh! I almost forgot," Fallon suddenly exclaimed. "Your grandmother ran out of those pain patches you sent her. Could you mail her some more? She says they work wonders."

Bella froze in the middle of putting on her shoes.

Pain patches?

Those had come from Edward.

Fallon didn't notice her hesitation, and Bella wasn't about to explain the complicated situation to her mother. She simply replied, "I'll take care of it."

Back at her apartment, Bella faced a dilemma.

Her phone screen glowed with a number she could recite in her sleep, but her thumb hovered over the green call button, unable to press it.

She still remembered their unpleasant parting. She had specifically told him to stay out of her business, and now she was supposed to call and ask for pain patches? Talk about swallowing your pride.

"No way. Absolutely not." She quickly deleted the number.

Then inspiration struck—she knew exactly who could help.

Scarlett!

She had asked for Larry's number that day.

Larry was Edward's best friend. He might have a solution.

She called Scarlett, who happily texted Larry's number without hesitation.

"Who's this?" a male voice answered.

"It's Bella Obelon. Remember me?" she identified herself, trying to ignore the deafening music in the background.

"Oh, it's you. Hang on." When Larry spoke again, the ambient noise had significantly decreased.

"That's better. What's up? Calling to hang out?"

Bella paused, mentally racing through her options.

She definitely couldn't ask him to get patches directly from Edward.

Edward would immediately figure out they were for her.

"Edward gave me some pain patches a while back," she explained carefully. "I was wondering if you could find out where he gets them? Like, the brand or store?"

Larry's voice carried a hint of surprise. "You're calling me for this?"

In the background, a woman with what sounded like a sultry voice approached him. "Sneaking away to make phone calls? That deserves punishment."

Bella heard the sound of a drink being consumed, followed by unmistakable kissing noises. The awkwardness radiated through the phone.

Thankfully, Larry remembered she was waiting and returned to the call. "Why not just ask him yourself? You two know each other, right? I'm kind of busy, you know."

After a pause, he added, "Besides, Edward always prioritizes pretty women over his friends. Trust me, you'll have better luck than I would."

Ask Edward directly?

Long after the call ended, Bella still couldn't make up her mind.

Maybe she should just let the whole thing go.

To her surprise, the very next day as she returned from class, she spotted Edward's car parked outside her apartment building.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, staring at the man she hadn't seen in two days.

Unlike her, Edward seemed unaffected by their previous argument.

Or maybe not entirely unaffected.

Usually by now, he would have approached her, but this time he merely glanced up, handing her a bag with detached coolness. "What you asked for."

Bella stared at the pain patches inside, stunned.

"I was with Larry when you called," Edward explained. "I overheard."

She felt mortified. Completely and utterly mortified.

Bella bit her lip, thinking how all her efforts to preserve her dignity had turned into a joke.

"Thanks. I'll pay you back," she said, turning to go upstairs.

Suddenly, a powerful grip pulled her back.

Before Bella could process what was happening, Edward had her pinned against his car hood, his lips descending on hers.