1,871Thank you to Team Harpy: Dawn, May, Teresa, April, Mandy, Pamela, Ausha, Denise and Sally. Also special thanks to Cheryl for letting me run ideas by her. I know my characters and I can be annoying so thank y'all for sticking it out.
Alienation of Affections
Summary: Noun. Dignitary Tort Law: the estrangement by a third person of one spouse from the other. A second chance romance with a twist.
Chapter 1 - Bruises
Bella
"And … action!" Logan, our AD, yells.
I walk for what seems like the tenth time on this rainy sidewalk outside of the hospital, trying to keep pace with my co-actor and remember dialogue. You'd think walking and talking at the same time would be simple, but obviously, not for me. I've flubbed the lines at least ninety percent of the time while Jake keeps breaking character and making me laugh.
We're doing well this time until we turn to walk off the sidewalk to the entrance of the hospital. I go head over ass on some slippery surface right before we hit the covered area by the sliding glass doors.
"Cut!" Afton, our director, yells. No shit, cut. I'm rolling around, cursing quietly, as I clutch my ankle. "Call for the medic!"
This also seems slightly unnecessary to order out loud but okay.
"Bella, are you all right?" Jake asks as he and his hands hover over me.
"Yes," I grit out 'cause I'm not a little bitch.
"Hurts like hell, huh?"
"Also, yes. Whose idea was it for me to wear these god-forsaken shoes?"
"Wardrobe, and if it's any consolation, they make your legs look fabulous," he assures me.
"It isn't."
The medic, Nicole, and Afton run over. Nicole immediately starts accessing me as I try not to yell at her. She's a sweetheart, and we get along famously. Normally, I'm nice, but I have a low tolerance for pain.
"I'm sorry, but I have to see if it bends." Nicole winces when I do. "Okay, good mobility, but I still think we could use some X-rays, so I'm sending you to the hospital."
I groan. "Can't Tanya or Jane do one in that fancy schmancy radiology room we use?"
"You know that's not authorized for actual use, Bella."
"Well, the last thing we want is to have my pics splashed across some tabloid going to an actual hospital."
"I can get you in the rig, call ahead, and let them know we are coming and that it's top secret."
"And take some room from someone who actually needs it?"
"Bella, quit your bitching." She summons a couple of guys to load me on a gurney—kill me now—and into the ambulance. Obviously, we are authorized to use this piece of equipment.
They do me a solid and don't put the lights on, as I'm non-emergent. We pull into Harborview rather quickly, and I'm hoping I can pop a Percocet or something when we get in the room. We're greeted quietly by a redheaded nurse who takes all the info that Nicole spews out, much of which I'm able to follow. I'm ushered quickly into a room, and the curtain makes a swishing noise as the nurse pulls it closed.
"Hello, Bella, I'm Teresa. I'm just going to triage you real quick before the doc comes in to take a look." She settles into a rolling chair in front of a computer after taking my blood pressure, which is up just a little because of the pain. Luckily, I don't have to get my weight because of my ankle. I don't need any evidence of that anywhere. The tabloids already report on every pound gained or lost that shows.
"Name?"
"Bella Swan," I spew, then wince. I usually have a fake moniker to give. No one, least of all me, expected Olympic Med to become the ratings queen it currently is. I've been in this game for a while. I've done print ads ('cause I'm 5'6"), commercials, guest spots on weekly sitcoms and dramas, and pilots that never got off the ground. Then magic happened, and I'm suddenly the lead actress of a medical drama in its third season. The last season ended on a major cliffhanger, and the cast was suddenly everywhere. I can barely walk out of my house without being noticed. We relocated to Seattle where the setting for the show is located for half this season while a new set was being built for us back in California. With success comes the network waving around handfuls of money, and it showed—in our budget and our salaries.
"Okay. Bella … wait, did you say Swan?" Her head snaps up, and I smile weakly and wave.
"Hi."
Her mouth drops open. "I am such a big fan! Maggie O'Connell is one of my favorite characters ever."
"Thank you, Teresa." She looks at me expectantly as I do her. "Can I get some meds or something 'cause this really hurts?"
"Oh, my God, yes. Sorry! Just a few more questions. Any allergies to any medications?"
"No."
"Any underlying medical problems?"
"No."
"What medications are you currently taking?"
"Depo shot and a multivitamin."
"On a scale of one to ten, how high is your pain?"
"Probably a three for normal people, but for me, I'd say a seven."
She finishes typing with a flourish and prints out some paperwork and a bracelet. "Please sign this. It just says that we're going to treat you and that we won't divulge any of your medical information to anyone." She holds out the bracelet. "Which wrist?" I hold up my left arm, and she secures it. As she does, the door opens.
"Sorry, Doc; just finishing up." She straightens up, and I come face to face with a ghost of boyfriend's past. My past.
"Edward?"
"Bella?"
Teresa looks between us with a raised eyebrow. I hope this is covered under HIPAA.
We both open our mouths to speak, but nothing comes out until he squeaks out a "hi". He reddens, then clears his throat before trying again. "Hi."
"Hi." I laugh, my pain all but forgotten. Not really. I gesture toward my ankle. He briefly closes his eyes in embarrassment and immediately crosses the room and starts moving my ankle this way and that while I try not to embarrass myself.
"Does this hurt?" he asks.
"Yes."
He nods.
"Teresa, can you put in an order for a shot of Demerol? Ms. Swan, here, is a wuss."
"Your bedside manner is impeccable, Dr. Cullen."
"Also, call Radiology and order an X-ray to see what we're looking at."
Teresa is watching us like a Wimbledon match, and when Edward clears his throat, she bolts out of the room.
"She's about to open her mouth, isn't she?"
"To fellow nurses, probably, but it won't go any further or she'll be fired," he assures me. He settles in the chair Teresa vacated and types a few notes, then turns around to face me.
"Wow. Look at you," he breathes.
"You don't look so bad yourself." I fumble with the bedsheet as I avoid eye contact. I don't know why this man makes me feel unsure or shy, but he always has.
"How've you been?" he asks.
"Okay; not really doing much. My acting career didn't pan out quite like I'd hoped," I tease.
"So, it's your doppelganger I've been watching on Thursday nights?"
"You watch me? I mean, my show?"
"Of course, I do! Jess and I always get take-out and settle on the couch in front of the television. She's obsessed."
"Jess?"
"My wife."
"You're married?" I sit up straighter. "That's wonderful! Tell me all about her."
"Well, we met in college, got married about five years ago. We live in over on 1st Avenue. She works with my mom while I work for my dad."
"How are your parents? I've asked Charlie, but he's not good at gossiping at all." I playfully roll my eyes.
"I haven't seen him in a while. How is he?"
"Exactly the same. Right down to the pornstache." I laugh.
"My parents are good." He smiles. "Busy, but we make a point to have dinner at least once a month outside of our respective jobs. Enough about me though; tell me about you."
"Nothing much to tell."
"Oh, okay, glamorous television star."
"No, really. It's a lot of long days and nights. I crash when I get home. Boring dinners and award shows with dry chicken. Photographers chasing after me. It's everything I wanted and didn't want all at the same time. I like the character though, and the writers. We have a great ensemble, and I'm hoping it will open the door to something more mainstream, but for now, this is where it's at."
We hear a knock, and then some young guy pokes his head in. "Radiology for a right ankle?"
Edward nods, then stands up. "I have to check on a couple patients, and then I'll be back with the results as soon as I can."
I watch him walk out, then focus on the radiology tech's directions as he snapshots my ankle. It's over quickly. Teresa comes in and administers my shot, then it's just me and my thoughts.
Wow. This is not how I expected my day to go. Dr. Edward Cullen. He completed his goal, and so did I. That's rare for a teenage couple who broke up for that exact reason. In my experience, someone always falls short, but we did it—apart—but we did it.
I met Edward my freshman year of high school when I came to live with my dad. I fell in with the same crowd as Edward, but where he was all science and math, I was the drama queen. But somehow, we became fast friends. During the summer before our junior year, we became more. We were inseparable until we weren't. When faced with our choices, we sacrificed us for our own individual selves. I went off to California while he studied in Chicago, and as far as I know, we never looked back. I never looked back.
I hadn't heard that he was married, but I don't keep in touch with anyone besides my dad, and like I told Edward, he isn't much for keeping up with anyone but the fish. I wonder what his wife's like. Creative, if she's an interior designer. Beautiful, if she's with Edward—he always did have an exquisite eye for beauty. Not that I'm saying I'm a knockout, but he always loved art. And obviously, I'm not unattractive. I was listed number three in the Most Beautiful Woman issue in People magazine this year. In any event, he looks content and happy, and I'm contently happy for him.
As if he knows I'm musing, he's back with good news. "Just a sprain. Avoid shoes like"—he gestures toward the other shoe still on my left foot—"that for a couple weeks. Ice it for fifteen to twenty minutes every three or so hours, wrap it with an Ace bandage, and elevate it when you can. I'm writing you a script for Tylenol 3 to take as needed, and take some ibuprofen for the swelling. Any questions?"
"Nope."
"Okay, so the orderly will be here with a wheelchair in a minute."
I groan.
"Do you want to be carried out of here?"
"No, I really don't want that." I close my eyes, starting to feel the effects of the shot.
"So dramatic."
I crack one eye open. "Did you expect any different?"
"I don't know what I expected. Not this."
"Right?"
"I should go. I have patients."
"You should. Go, I mean. Wait. Before I forget. Why don't you and Jess come for a set visit next week? That way, I can meet her, and she can get some behind the scenes scoop since she's a fan. Maybe a tour and some lunch at craft services?"
He grins. "She would love that."
"Awesome. Do you have a piece of paper?"
He fumbles around but just finds a script pad. He shrugs, then hands it to me. "Oh, the trouble I can get you in with this …"
He rolls his eyes and gestures for me to hurry. "Patients, Bella."
"Of which you seem to be lacking, Dr. Cullen." I grin as I scribble my number and some directions on how to get to the makeshift set. "Call me, and we can set this up for a day that works for you both." I hand back his pen and pad. He looks at it for a moment. "Thank you, Bella. This will make her so incredibly happy."
"Glad I could have a hand in it. I'm looking forward to it."
He reaches out his hand to shake mine, and I put my hand in his, which he gives a little squeeze before letting go. He grins and lets himself out before the orderly wheels me out to my awaiting ride, and I leave as discreetly as I came.
Edward
"You saw Bella Swan today? Was she sick? Did you take care of her? How did you get an invite to the set of the greatest show of the year?"
I'm changing out of my work clothes, taking care to throw them in the hamper before showering as Jess deluges me with questions.
"Yes, I saw her. You know I can't tell you that. Yes, I was her doctor. You know I used to go to high school with her. We were catching up, and she said she'd love to meet you. So a set visit, some introductions, a quick tour, and lunch at craft services." I'm patient with my answers, hoping she'll calm down soon.
Her squeal tells me that might take a few minutes. "When can we go?"
"I have to call her with our availability."
"You have her number?" She jumps up and down excitedly. "Wait until I tell Lauren!"
"I do have her number. No, I won't share it with Lauren. And lastly, why don't you go call her while I shower, and we can go grab some dinner and compare our schedules so I can let Bella know?"
She grabs her phone, kisses my cheek, and I hear her chatting away excitedly before I even turn the shower on. I close my eyes under the hot spray as I decompress my day away. It started off usual enough but changed directions quickly. Never did I expect to come face to face with my past. It shook me to my core, but it's not like I haven't seen her over the years through my television screen. However, in person is an entirely different situation altogether. I could touch her, smell her, and laugh with her as we fell back into our usual bantering ways.
I feel a twinge of guilt because I haven't been totally honest with Jess. She knows I went to high school with Bella, but she doesn't know the entire scope of our relationship. We started off as friends and didn't really discuss past relationships. When it turned romantic, it didn't seem necessary to move our relationship forward. I know I need to tell her, but I'm not sure how to approach it.
"How does sushi sound?" Her voice infiltrates my musing.
"Sushi sounds great. I'll be down in fifteen."
"Okay, babe. And Lauren is super jealous. It's awesome."
She's gone as quickly as she enters, and I hurry to get ready so I can have some quality time with my wife.
'Haven't seen you since high school
Good to see you're still beautiful' ~ Bruises by Train with Ashley Monroe
See you next week.