I sat at the piano and absentmindedly played. My mind filled with the image of Bella: her long strawberry scented hair, her wide brown eyes, and her pale skin – splashed with the hint of a fading blush. It then flooded with new memories that I was not overly fond of. Her face, crinkled in sadness, for him. Or, in outrage that he would not stand to talk to her.
I know she tries very hard to camouflage her hurt, to show no hint of it while I'm in her presence – but I see it still.
And it pains me.
As much as it does her.
Oh, no, not for the same reasons of course. But seeing her unhappy made me want to do everything in my power to fix it.
Except that fixing it proves to be the last thing I want to do.
She loves him. She refers to her affections as purely platonic. All thoughts of him were in a brotherly manner, she reassures. But I am not convinced. Not that I don't trust her, I just don't' think she fully realizes how much she loves him. Not yet, at least.
It was jealousy that kept Bella from seeing him.
My jealousy –and it only seemed to increase with each second that passed.
He could give her so much. He could give her the things that I could not – that I so sorely wished that I could.
Children.
I smiled at the thought of miniature Bella's running around, one of them tripping, clearly inheriting her mother's clumsiness.
A human life.
I didn't want to condemn my sweet Bella to my type of existence. I didn't want to take away her soul or her chance of entrance into heaven (where she so rightly belonged). It seemed, though, the only way that I would be able to keep her with me. Forever.
She might be better off with him.
My thoughts were interrupted by someone making their way down the stairs.
Hey, Eddie.
I recognized the thought immediately.
Alice.
She came and stood next me while I continued to play.
"Edward." Her voice was soothing, as if she could tell I was conflicted.
"Yes, Alice?" My voice was smooth and devoid of emotion.
"You want to talk about it?"
"Talk about what? There's nothing wrong."
Sure, there isn't.
" I can tell when your upset, Edward." I looked at her dubiously. "You play so hard and fast. Frustration seeps through your finger and translates into the music you play."
I hadn't realized this. I looked at Alice and said nothing.
Fine. Have it your way.
Alice then lifted herself onto the grand piano and sat there, contented to wait until I would speak. We sat in silence for a long while with only the notes from my frenzied playing hanging in the air.
I stopped the music abruptly. Alice's gaze was fastened on me, patiently waiting.
Without taking my eyes off the keys I said, "Alice, I need to know if you can see something." I tried to sound detached – as if her answer held little interest to me.
"Sure, anything." She answered, curiosity staining her voice.
I brought my unblinking gaze to hers.
"Will Bella be better off with him?" My voice cracked at the end and I cringed.
I didn't have to say his name – she knew exactly who I was referring to. Her face softened with sympathy.
"Oh, Edward." She said sadly. A frown was prominent on her face.
"Don't, Alice. I don't want to hear it." I said sternly. "I just want to know."
My voice was pleading now.
She sighed heavily and then closed her eyes. She then brought her fingers to her temple – rubbing them in concentration.
Alice sat in this stupor for several agonizing minutes.
I wanted to know. I needed to know. Now.
Her eyes suddenly shot opened. Her expression was blank.
"Well?" I tried to restrain my voice, but I could still hear the fervor in it.
"I couldn't see anything Edward. I'm sorry." She said, irritated. "You know I can't see the wolves."
Underneath her disappointment of not being able to see the pack, I sensed something like relief. Relief that she had nothing to tell, nothing to see – be it bad or otherwise. Alice tried very hard to hide it, occupying her mind with other thoughts.
"I guess I should have known better then to try."
Why couldn't she, just this once, be able to see the wolves – one wolf in particular? It would cease all the internal conflicts that were raging so violently within me. All my questions answered with solidity instead of my biased – and, sometimes, bitter – conjectures.
What if she did see them? And Bella was happier with him? What would I do then? The thought caused me tangible agony.
"Bella's sure of her course." Alice said, sensing my thoughts.
"For now."
And if that were to change?
Of course...if you outgrew me – if you wanted something more – I would understand that, Bella. I promise I wouldn't stand in your way if you wanted to leave me.
I want to fight for her. I really do. I have seen what an existence without her is and I can never be prevailed upon to return to it. Those long months without Bella were the worst of my existence and probably the most miserable a single person has ever had to endure.
If Bella chose him, would I be able t o return to that?
I'd like to think that I could, but I hoped that I would never have to.
She loves you, Edward.
I knew that. I also knew that I love her, more than anything, and that I never wanted to let her go. I'd show Bella her options, I decided, and I would fight for her just like he would.
I promise I wouldn't stand in your way if you wanted to leave me.
And if she chose the other path, I'd let her go – I refuse to hold Bella back from what makes her happy, even if that means condemning myself to a life of irreparable solitude.