The Day
Image #38
Word Count: 3559
Rating: AU, AH, M (for mild lemons)
Summary: Bella's life changes dramatically after getting some terrible news. How will she cope?

September 21, 2009- two days after "the news"

They say you know when you are going to die well before it happens. Some call it a premonition. Some say it's a gift from God. Some people don't ever get "that feeling", they just get taken from us suddenly with no way of saying goodbye. And life just carries on with that person in our memory. And it's not that they are forgotten, because they never could be, but you find a way to live without them and carry on.

My husband knew. He had a premonition. And rather than tell me when we spoke last, three weeks before he was killed, he spent the entire five minute phone call with shitty reception telling me how much he couldn't wait to get home. Why did he tease me like that?

The last letter I received from him, a few weeks before "the news", was cryptic and unlike his usual prose. I read it over and over after I got it, trying to make sense of it. Telling myself he wasn't saying what he was really saying.

He kept telling me goodbye in so many ways but I didn't want to read it. I didn't read into it, and I told myself he was just upset because they had lost four other Marines that day. He was dealing with their loss, I told myself. Yet he was really helping me prepare for mine.

August 20, 2009

Dear My Bella,

I miss you more with every day that passes. I can't believe I have only been in this hell hole for 3 months, and have four more to go. Thoughts of you and the kids are the only thing that keep me going out here.

I know we both vowed to be honest with one another when we got married, and I am trying to keep my vow to you the best that I can. Please know that when I say things are terrible here, worse than I ever imagined, that I am telling you this not to frighten you, but to give you just a slight glimpse into the terror I experience on a daily basis. I have seen my brothers in harms way, seen so many good men go. Life just seems so unfair here.

When I look into their faces as they fade away in my arms, I think of how much their wives, and families are going to miss them. I think about how much they are going to be cheated of this horrific, yet intimate moment of seeing their loved one take their last breath. They should be the ones holding their husband's hand, not me.

Know now that if I am ever in their shoes, that no matter what Marine is holding my hand, that they will not really be the one who is holding it. It will be you. I will be looking out into your eyes, I will be seeing your face. You will be the one taking me home. I will always come home to you.

Know that even if I don't make it back physically, I will always be there in spirit. I will always come back to you. I will always be there to watch over you and the kids and protect you. You are all my life, you are all my breath, and you are all my soul.

I have your spirit here with me, with every step I take, you are here with me.

I hope to be able to get to talk to you soon, I miss your voice. I hear it in my head all the time, and that is what gets me through the nights when I want to be near you and feel you next to me.

I hope the kids are being good for you. Tell them I miss them very much and that they are always on my mind. You all are.

Goodbye my love, I will write again as soon as I can.

Yours Always,

Edward

Edward knew. He said he was being honest with me in that letter, but he lied. He knew he wasn't coming back and he sheltered me from it. I still shake every time I read it, I still sniff the paper to see if it will somehow magically smell like him.

All I smell is stale, lifeless paper. And his shirts under my pillow, the ones I found on the laundry room floor the day he left and kept dirty just to have something so that I could smell him, don't smell like him, they smell like dust.

I am nothing, I am a shell. I want to crawl into a whole and die, but can't because I have little ones who need me. These little ones are the only reason I get up in the morning. Somehow I feel as though I am in a combat zone, that I am barely making it by just like Edward was, and the only thing getting me through the day is my love for our children. Our children.

May 1st, 2009 ten days before he left for his deployment

"Daddy, why do you have to go shoot bad guys?" our four year old son asked as he tucked him into bed.

"Well James, I don't really like shooting anyone, but if I see a bad guy who is doing bad things, it's my job son."

"I think shooting bad guys is cool!" our seven year old son chimed in from across the room.

"Jacob, it's not cool to shoot people," Edward replied, hoping that Jacob would not tell James anymore stories about shooting bad guys, or anything regarding shooting at all.

Edward didn't like our children knowing what he did for a living. While he loved his career and loved "fighting for our Country" he didn't like talking about his guns or about the horrors of war with our children. Heck, he didn't even like talking about it with me. Truth is I didn't know much of what he did when he was away, I just knew he was constantly in danger, and prayed he would come home to me in one piece. He'd seen tons of Marines lose their lives in the past three combat tours he served in Iraq, and he knew that Afghanistan was likely to be no different of an experience.

"Are you a like a superhero dad? If you are, are you more like Spiderman or Superman?" James asked.

"I don't know James, what do you think? I don't consider myself to be a hero, and I don't have any super powers like they do, but I tell you what I do have, I have you boys and your sister who make me feel like I am the luckiest daddy in the world. I consider myself lucky. Now, lets not talk about super powers or heroes right now. I have to hurry and tuck in your sister before she gets testy. Goodnight boys, try and get some sleep. I love you," he said as he walked out and shut the door.

He didn't realize I had been standing outside of their room listening, and jumped when he saw me standing there.

"You startled me, honey," he said as he put his arm around my waist.

"I'm sorry babe, I just love watching you tuck in the kids. It's always so cute the things they say before they close their eyes. They usually come up with some reason to get out of going to bed, and I expected that to go on tonight. I had no idea they would want to talk about fighting and guns," I said, trying to mask my worry.

"Bella, it's a boy thing. We are programmed to talk about fighting and guns. And as much as I don't share with our sons what I do for a living, it's natural for them to be curious about it. Jacob told me earlier today that some boys from school were talking about what I do for a living and had some questions for me. It turns out Paul, 1stSgt. Black's son has been going to school for the last couple of days bragging about how his dad gets to shoot bad guys and kill people. After hearing Paul brag, Jacob naturally had some questions to see if I did that too. How am I supposed to answer that? Part of me wants to tell him I am just as "cool" as 1stSgt Black and that I have seen ten times more combat than he has, but I know that is childish and don't want to have our son going to school saying those types of things. Fighting in combat is nothing to brag about, and 1st Sgt Black should know that. So I ended up just telling him that I do have to shoot bad guys sometimes."

"I know honey, it's just hard to hear them ask about it, that's all. Let's go tuck in Jessica before she gets upset," I said trying to change the mood.

Sensing the tension, Edward took my hand, squeezing it tightly to reassure me that everything was going to be okay. He knew I worried while he was gone, and he knew I was even more worried about where he was going. We didn't keep secrets from each other, and he was very honest with me about how rough his next deployment was going to be. I just didn't like hearing my boys ask about it. The worries should be on me, they should not have to worry or know about the dangers their daddy faces.

As we approached our youngest child's door to tuck her in goodnight, Edward turned to face me and gave me a quick kiss on my furrowed brow.

"Stop worrying, baby. If you walk into Jessie's room with that look on your face, she is going to wonder what's wrong. Let's leave this topic behind and try and tuck in our daughter, and have a good night. Okay?"

"Alright, Edward. I just love you so much, I worry. I promise to let it go for now."

"Thank you," he said before giving me one more quick kiss on the lips and turning to walk into Jessica's room.

"I saved the best for last didn't I sweetheart?", Edward swooned.

Jessica was sitting on her floor, hugging her favorite doll, anticipating his arrival to tuck her in. As much as I don't think it is possible to have a favorite child, it is impossible to deny the special bond Edward has with our little Jessie. The father-daughter bond was evident in their every smile and gesture with one another, and every time he looked at her, my heart swelled with pride.

"DADDY!" she shouted as she ran up to his arms.

"Baby girl!", he responded, swooping her up, placing sweet kisses on her cheeks." Let's get you into bed young lady," he said mocking an angry tone.

"I was just waiting for you and mommy to come kiss me nite nite. I can't go asweep without yous kisses".

"I know sweetheart, that is why we are here. Now goodnight sweet girl, sleep tight and don't let the bed bugs bite okay? I love you".

"Eww bed bugs is yucky daddy! I wuv you too" she said giggling before rolling over and closing her eyes.

Watching Edward tuck our kids in was one of my favorite things in the world. Given that he was gone a lot of the time for work, it was something I didn't get to see very often. And even though I promised to give up my worries for the night, just knowing he was leaving us in just a few days for another long seven month deployment made watching his interaction with the kids more bittersweet.

Edward must have sensed my sadness, because the minute we shut her door he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me into his arms with a fierceness I hadn't expected.

"I was actually lying when I said I saved the best for last back there. I still have my girl to tuck in," he said playfully.

"Really now…" I said giving him my best bitch brown expression.

He knew how much I loved it when he called me "his girl", and even though we had been married for 10 years, I could never get enough of hearing him refer to me as "his".

"That's correct baby. And I fully intend on tucking you in properly…" he said as he leaned down to kiss my lips.

Kissing Edward had to be my most favorite thing to do in the world. Well…actually, it was my second favorite thing to do. And stealing kisses from my husband after a long hard days work was something I looked forward to most. When you have three kids it is almost impossible to get "alone time". And the closer we got to Edward's deployment, the more time he kept trying to make for us.

"I can't believe how much I still love kissing you. You are absolutely the love of my life," he said as he pulled me up into his arms to carry me to our room.

Hearing the love in his voice was enough to make me come undone, and caused me to start pulling at his shirt, trying to get it up over his head while we kissed.

"It's impossible to get you naked when you kiss me that way baby" I said, laughing.

"That's okay, there is no need for us to rush tonight baby, I intend on taking my time with you."

Once we made it to our bed, we were both catching our breaths from the intensity we gave with each kiss.

"I want you so bad baby," Edward swooned as he raised me onto our bed.

"I want you too honey," I said as he nipped my neck and covered me in kisses.

We quickly disposed ourselves of the rest of the clothes we had on and found ourselves lying naked beside each other, taking one another in.

"You truly are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." He said. "I don't know what I ever did to be lucky enough to snatch you up, but whatever it is, I am glad."

"You know I am the lucky one silly," I said kissing the tip of his nose, "Besides you aren't too bad looking yourself, handsome."

Rather then take my complement, Edward rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue at me while his hands explored the length of my body. For some reason he hated it when I said how attracted I was to him, I think it made him feel like he was less of a man or something. He liked being a grungy, dirty Marine; he liked being perceived as strong and manly. In his mind being called handsome made him somewhat more of a girly boy-why he felt that way I will never know.

I wasn't the only woman who found him attractive. Many of his Marine's wives constantly flirted with him at battalion functions, and while it could have made me jealous to know he was the apple of their eye, it didn't because I knew he was mine. It was a compliment that women found my husband that attractive, even if they had a rude way of showing it.

While Edward explored my body with his fingertips, I explored his with my own. Even though we'd grown accustomed to each other's touch, and memorized each and every crevice and detail of each other's bodies, it never ceased to amaze me how much of a response my body had to his finger tips. It amazed me that after 10 years of sleeping with this gorgeous man, I could still be just as turned on, if not more so, and just as eager to have him make love to me.

As he went to roll himself on top of me and positioned himself against my entrance, he looked deeply into my eyes before kissing me, and I honestly felt as though I could look into his soul. His bright green emerald eyes were speaking to me and telling me everything I ever wanted to hear, and as he slowly entered me, my brown eyes spoke right back. It was the most intimate experience we shared in the years we had been together; and that is truly saying a lot.

After we were done making love, he held me and whispered how much he loved me in my ears, and while I loved hearing it, his eyes and body had already told me everything he was saying. His eyes said more than any words could ever say. And I cried at the feeling of being so loved.

He loved me as if it was the last time he was ever going to touch me again. And even though we made love every night up until the day he left, the intensity we shared that night was not there like it had been. Although the night before he left was just as memorable, that night when he made me feel solely loved just by his eyes will forever be in my heart.

September 29, 2009-the day

The funeral had been over for hours, and after begging me to leave and failing miserably, my in-laws Esme and Carlisle took the kids home. I sat at his grave for more hours than I could count, looking at the fresh mound of dirt that covered the ground.

I kept waiting for Edward to jump out from behind a tree and say, "Just kidding!", I kept waiting for someone to tell me it was all a joke.

I guess I'll always be waiting.

I knew I would have to get home and help my in-laws with the children. We had to carry on and live our lives and pretend we were okay. I knew someday we would be. We wouldn't be great, but we would be living, and I owed it to Edward to make sure we did that to the best of our ability.

Once I could finally force myself to leave his gravesite and promised him I would be back soon, I stumbled to my car and broke down. I cried as if my life depended on it, my tears echoing the steady rain drops falling on my windshield. I urged myself to stop crying, my kids couldn't see me after breaking down like that, but failed miserably.

Somehow I managed to put the keys in the ignition and drive. Somehow I made it home through cloudy, watered down eyes.

When I got out of the car, I saw something sitting on our front porch step, right outside our door. As I got closer I saw it was another flower arrangement; they'd been coming non-stop since I got the news.

When I bent down to investigate the arrangement further and to look at who to send my "thank you" note to, I froze in my tracks.

I felt that there was no way the flowers were real, I had to have been dreaming, or delirious, or both.

Because on the little 3x5 florist card was an inscription that stopped my heart. On that 3x5 florist card I saw words that lied; I saw words that burned. The card read:

"I'll come back to you"

I didn't have to read anymore to know who they were from. I knew instantly.

Once I got past the words, I noticed the flowers-one dozen white long stemmed roses, my favorite. He was the only one who knew it. He always sent them to me when he wanted to let me know he loved me: on birthdays, anniversaries, the birth of our children, and when he knew I needed them.

How did he know to send them then? How did he get them there when I needed them most?

And just like that, my sorrow was replaced by the feeling of his love. Even though he was not there, he was. And he never stopped letting me know that.

It turns out my husband wasn't lying when he said he was coming back to me and that he was always going to be here for us.

Every birthday, every holiday, every anniversary, I get the same flower arrangement, with a card that simply said, "I love you". Our kids get birthday cards with messages on how much they are missed and loved. I have no idea how long this will last, but I am enjoying it while it does. It gives us all just that little bit of Edward we need and miss the most.

How Edward managed to pay for all of these arrangements ahead of time, and plan all this without my knowledge is beyond me. Part of me doesn't even want to know; it keeps an element of surprise and hope alive.

One time I even tried to ask the florist how Edward planned all of it, but they told me they promised "the sender" they wouldn't tell. I guess I will never really know, and that is okay. Because even though he is no longer here with me, deep down he really is.

Just like he promised he would be.