Banner by AngelGoddess1981

(banner by DivineInspiration)

Bella loves Edward, much more than she should. Edward is an addict. Bella deals with it. Years of this cycle begin to take its toll, and Bella is fed up. A near fatal accident forces Edward into a coma, and Bella re-examines her previous decision. Will Bella stay, or is it all too much?

Warning:

This story is not intended for anyone under the age of 18. Some themes include underage drug abuse, adult drug abuse, violence while under the influence, poor judgment while intoxicated, graphic medical scenarios, graphic sexual situations that are consensual, explicit language, and extreme angst. Be advised, this work of fiction is not suitable for everyone. If you are under 18 or find these situations upsetting or uncomfortable, please move on. Otherwise, I urge you to read with caution.   

A long and tiresome journey and a wrongly booked ticket later, Bella Swan finds herself sitting next to renowned actor Edward Cullen and learns that whether flying coach or first class, karma gets her way.

Exerpt:

“Well… that’s embarrassing.” I looked up in the direction of the male voice that was responsible for the comment and nearly died. Nearly. Instead, I shrieked and flung my glass of champagne right in the lap of the owner. I was clearly hallucinating, because the man sitting next to me could not possibly be… I closed my eyes and opened them again. But he was still there a slightly uncomfortable look on his beautiful face as he retrieved my glass from his lap and inspected the damage to his trousers.

“This is a new reaction,” he mumbled all the while I gaped at him and glanced at the magazine checking whether he had jumped out of it. But Edward Cullen was still gazing at me from the page, his eyes hypnotising and in addition the exact - slightly displeased - replica (with perhaps a bit more facial hair, and clothes) was undeniably sitting in the chair next to me.

“I’m so sorry!” I finally managed to croak out when I remembered how to speak. Before I could thoroughly think it through I grabbed a napkin from my backpack and dove to dab his pants. He was not the only one who jumped up as my hand came into contact with his crotch.

“I got it,” he said louder than I had heard him speak so far. For a moment he cast me an exasperated look and I almost felt the need to ensure him I was not trying to feel him up. He held up his hand as a stop sign and snatched the napkin from my hand, still hovering over him. I wasn’t sure whether he was mad or embarrassed. I was too busy trying to sink through my chair in shame.