A|N:
I have written this one shot as part of one of The Mystic Award's Dares, their first in fact. It is a dare to write a Twilight one shot without lemons. Since I don't really write lemons, I thought this would be a perfect contest to write for.
I hope you enjoy this story.
I leaned over into the freezer to grab the last strawberry ice cream of my favorite brand – located at the very back of the shelf, of course. It slipped through my fingers and thumped when it landed. I heard a slight chuckle behind me as something brushed against my sleeve. I grasped the container quickly, standing up and turning to see who was there. The gentleman, who was tall and around my age, stood there looking at me expectantly. His tousled hair was dark and damp from the melting snow that must have fallen while he walked into the store.
At first, no flicker of recognition lit in my brain. I assumed he must have thought I was someone else; a guy that good-looking would not seek out boring old Bella Newton. I was waiting for him to apologize for his mistake, when my eyes came to meet his piercing green ones.
Edward.
My high school boyfriend. My first love. My only love, in truth. He was the man I thought I would marry until we grew apart after high school. Well, he grew apart and I pined.
In my excitement at seeing him, I threw the ice cream into my cart and went to fling my arms around him. Of course, my hand caught on the strap of my purse, and the open bag released its contents into the air, the items spreading far and wide throughout the aisle.
Edward let out a throaty laugh and said, "You still haven't quite mastered that coordination thing yet, huh?"
I joined in with his laughter, my embarrassment not entirely masked behind it.
"I guess not," I giggled, sounding more like my teenage self than I had in years. I squatted and began picking up my scattered possessions. "I'm just so surprised to see you, Edward. What's it been, fifteen years?" I decided it was easiest to crawl on the floor in order to corral the nearest objects, and fell to my knees.
"Something like that," he responded from a few feet down the aisle, also trying to round up some of my lost items. His stepped on a tube of mascara and promptly fell to the ground with a loud thump and a humph.
"And I'm the klutz," I blurted out before I could think about how rude it sounded. I sat back on my heels and covered my mouth, my eyes opened more.
His eyes grew wide, and he burst out laughing.
"Ouch!" He gasped, tears dripping from the corners of his eyes. "I never said I was graceful. That was always something you had in your head about me. I was just able to walk across flat, stable surfaces. Besides, you're the one who created this mess in the first place." He gestured broadly to the rest of the aisle.
I couldn't help but laugh at the situation, as well. Here we were; me on my hands and knees, him on his butt, both of us on the floor in the middle of the frozen food section of a practically deserted grocery store aisle on Christmas Eve. We must have looked like a pretty amusing sight.
A memory of us hanging out and laughing in the hallway before school opened flitted across my mind. We always sat next to each other, touching as much as possible in the crowded high school corridor, telling stories of our families and friends during the time we had to spend apart. This wasn't one specific memory; this was how we spent most of our time in the morning prior to the bell.
"Just like old times, huh?" I asked. "Except we're sitting in the middle of an aisle at the grocery store, not out in the hall before homeroom."
He laughed again, and his eyes got a faraway look as he sighed.
"Yeah, just like old times." He stood and, like the gentleman he always was, he held his hand out to help me up. I grabbed it eagerly; feeling the spark I remembered so vividly, even all these years later, shoot up my arm. I stood and straightened out my coat. He waited there staring at me, his eyes far away.
"What?"
"Still a jeans girl, I see," he said while shaking his head. "Alice never got you into fashion as she always said she would."
"No, definitely not," I retorted, pretending to be offended. "She tried for a long time, but I think she's finally given up. I would have thought you had known me better than that."
"I guess some things never change," he said, his voice cracking slightly.
"No," I breathed. "I guess not." I was still the same as the girl he had left so long ago; the only difference was a few extra pounds and the beginning of crow's feet.
"That's a good thing," he interrupted me before I could brood on his comment. I was sure he had changed so much, what with his fame and everything. He reached out and hooked his index finger under my chin, lifting it to bring my eyes to his. "That's a very good thing. You always were practically perfect."
I began to feel embarrassed, uncomfortable with the look in his eyes when he uttered that last sentence. I pulled back and pretended to go back to gathering my stuff.
"Only practically perfect?" I asked, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere.
He laughed again. "Hey, you're only human. Why don't I pick everything up, and you can watch your knight in shining armor rescue you."
"Why?" I asked. "Is he going to pop up around the corner? I hope he didn't bring his noble steed inside. That would be a mess to clean up."
He shook his head and began picking up everything that had spilled from my deceptively small purse. Sporadically, he would release a chuckle, or I would catch him shaking his head, his eyes closed and a broad grin on his face. No doubt that he was still enjoying my ineptitude, a remnant from my childhood that I would likely never lose.
At last, he handed me the final two items, a slight smirk still playing on his full lips.
"That thing holds so much," he commented, pointing to my purse. "Do you really need all of this stuff?"
"Not all of it," I replied. "But it's still good to have. You know, just in case someone needs it."
"Ever the Girl Scout," he added slyly, and then looked in my cart. "Are you done here or do you need to do more shopping?"
"I think I've got everything I need," I told him, eyeing my practically empty cart – it was going to be a quiet Christmas this year. "Was there something you had to get?"
"Actually, I've forgotten why I came," he said and smiled. "I was so surprised to see you that it just shot out of my head. Can you believe it?"
I began my way to the check out, and he followed.
"Hmmm. You were never one for memory problems," I teased. "Gonna have to take some Gingko for that, Bub."
He laughed again, whether at my teasing or the shortened use of my old nickname for him, Bubula. It was kind of like babe or something like that, but he knew it held special meaning for me. My mom's friend, someone I held very close to me, had used it as a term of endearment towards me growing up and I had passed it on. I had never used it for anyone but him.
"Hey," he said, a large smile gracing his handsome face. "Seeing you after all this time and falling on my ass in the middle of the grocery store is the most excitement I've had all year." He winked.
I knew he was humoring me and that this wasn't the case. He'd just released an album and had spent most of the last few months touring this, as well as a few other countries. I doubted that the Safeway in this two-bit town was the highlight of his year. But I let it go.
"I'm glad I could oblige," I responded, curtsying. We had arrived at the checkout, which was miraculously free of any line. The girl began scanning the items as I looked around trying to find anything to keep the conversation alive. "So . . ." Nothing leapt to my attention.
"Yeah, so . . . "
We stared at each other, embarrassed that there wasn't much else to say. I tried commenting on the headlines of the gossip rags, but each joke fell short of humorous.
"Um, I'll just go to the end and bag," Edward stated out of nowhere. "Is that okay?"
"Sure," I answered, glad to have the time to conjure up some ideas to talk about.
After a few minutes, the cashier gave me my total and I paid for my purchases. Edward helped by carrying my bag out to my car. I tried to take it, but he insisted that he'd do it for me. He was still as chivalrous as always.
"Do you have time to go for a drink before you need to get home?" he asked after he had placed the bag in my trunk.
"It's cold enough that the ice cream won't melt if it's not put in a freezer right away, so I think I'm good for a little while." I closed the trunk, and turned to face him. "Your choice."
"Great," he said, rolling his eyes to further the sarcasm. "Really? I don't know the area too well anymore. Where's the nearest bar?"
"O'Malley's. Right over there." I pointed to the location and noticed that the lights were all out. "But it's closed. There are a few more places in the neighborhood. One of them's bound to be open."
We drove around – him following behind me in his fancy silver rental – to a few more of the local bars, but they were all unexpectedly closed.
Is nothing open?
I saw a liquor store and pulled into the parking lot.
"I would've thought that one bar would be open on Christmas Eve," I apologized. "Let's just get something here. We can drink it in my car."
We walked into the tiny store and grabbed a six-pack of Reiner. After paying, we walked to my car, deciding to sit in the back – it was more conducive for conversation. We popped the tops on the cans, and I held mine up for a toast.
"To us," I said. "To what we had when we were kids..."
"Our innocence, as it were," he chimed in. "And, to us now, sitting here in the back seat of your car."
I laughed.
"Hey!" I exclaimed. "That could've been us then, too. Only there's a lot less 'hanky panky' going on tonight."
He chuckled.
"A lot less than there was back in the good old days," he added, winking at me. "I don't think we ever came up for air back then. I doubt we'd be able to keep up now."
"Too true." Though I'd love to try. "Anyway, to us."
We clinked our cans together and each took a sip. As we sat in the back of my cooling car, we reminisced about the past and the trouble we had gotten ourselves into, like the time we tried to make his neighbor's cat water ski in his family's pool.
"Poor thing," I whined, pouting out my lip. "We very nearly killed it."
"Served it right," he countered. "It was always hissing and trying to claw at you." He grew indignant.
"Oh! Look at you getting all protective." I rolled my eyes. "Still it wasn't nice of us to do."
"We were kids." He shrugged. "And, I've always been protective of you."
"No, you haven't," I replied. "Do you remember when we first met?"
He laughed. "You didn't like me very much after that."
"You knocked me out of the way and pushed me to the ground," I retorted. "How was I supposed to like you after that?"
"Twenty years and countless apologies later, and I still can't live that down." He was smiling, so I knew he was still joking.
"I guess Emmett's mom's cupcakes were world-renowned," I teased. "It took weeks for Alice to talk me into giving you another chance. I thought you were such a jerk."
He reached out his hand and grabbed mine.
"I'm so glad she convinced you," he uttered quietly while staring deeply into my eyes.
My heart fluttered and I had to look away quickly before I did something rash. I cleared my throat and pulled my hand away. The hum between us when we touched was not helping with rational thought.
"So, how's Alice?" he asked after a few seconds of awkward silence.
I was amazed they hadn't kept in touch. He had been her friend long before I had even met either of them. But I guess her loyalties had been with me.
"She's great," I answered. "She's married...to Jasper." He quirked his eyebrow in a question. He didn't remember Jasper? Jasper and he had been almost as inseparable as we had been throughout school. "You know, Jasper Hale?"
"I knew who Jasper is," he sighed. "I thought they hated each other. What happened to Eric? They had been together forever"
"That's a long story. You know how it is after high school."
He nodded grimly, looking down.
"Anyway, I'll just include the pertinent details." I took a deep breath. "Well, Jasper walked in on his girl friend, Katie…do you remember her?"
He looked up and another quick nod answered my question. "Okay. So he walked in on Katie and Eric making out. He grabbed Eric's phone – the idiot left it in his coat pocket. Somehow found Alice's contact in the list and he called her right then and there they bonded over the mutual experience. And, the rest is history." I spread my arms as wide as my little sedan allowed. "They have three kids together, the most adorable little kids you've ever seen."
"I wish I had known," he said, his voice sounding unhappy. "I would've showed up or at least sent a gift for their wedding."
"They didn't tell you out of courtesy to me," I replied. "I was still really broken up over…well, you know."
He looked away, his lips mashing into a hard line.
"At any rate, they're really happy," I chirped. I didn't want the solemn, brooding teenage Edward to return; we had been enjoying our time together so much.
"What about Emmett?" Edward asked. "Did he and Kate get hitched? They had been so perfect for each other."
"No, he went off to college and they went their separate ways. Seems to happen to everyone. Kate met some guy named Garrett and I think they're still together. I'm not sure if they're married, though."
"Oh," he uttered.
"Yeah," I said. "We lost touch a while ago. It's sad; she was a really nice girl."
"What about Emmett? How's he doing?"
"Well, he graduated with a law degree," I replied. "He went on to take the bar for Washington and he did really well. He met a woman named Rosalie and they got married around a year and a half ago."
"Emmett's a lawyer," he exclaimed. "That's amazing."
"It is," I said. "But you remember he was always good at bargaining. That's how he always got people to take the side he was sure would lose against him in a bet. You should see his wife. She's beautiful, like supermodel gorgeous. They'll make striking kids. Actually, she's due in like…2 months."
"He's gonna be a dad?" Edward cried. "I never thought he'd want kids."
"She's really changed his view on a lot of things." She had brought him to life in a way I had never seen before.
"I guess so," he responded. "So, how's your life been?" he asked, turning the spotlight to me. "I heard you got married. Any kids on the way?"
"Yeah," I affirmed. "I married Mike-"
"Newton?" he asked, cutting me off mid-sentence, his nose crinkling like he smelled something bad.
"Yes, Mike Newton," I groaned.
"How's that been?"
I looked toward the side window, unable to explain my train wreck of a life to his face. I couldn't bear to see the sympathy in his eyes at my pathetic semblance of normalcy.
"Well…I'd like to say I love him, but you know how I feel about lying. It's really been a marriage of convenience. We started dating right after my first year in college. Jess had broken it off with him, so he was alone, and so was I. I mean, it's not all bad. He's got a good job; he's an architect. It takes care of us and we do well enough. But, there's no passion. I haven't felt passion for a long time." Not since you. "But I get the basics: a warm, dry, safe home. And no, there are no kids. I'd love kids, but not with him. He's not the father type." Not like you would have been. I took a deep breath and turned to face him again. His eyes were soft, but not pitying. "Enough about me. What about you? I see your new album everywhere. That must be great, you know, doing so well."
"Yeah," he answered. "At times it is pretty great. I love the live audience. It's electric; I can almost feel it. The buzz they give off is invigorating, almost like heaven. But the traveling? Pure hell. I never know where I'm going to be next. And I never remember where I am any given day."
"That must be hard, discombobulating. It's almost like living in a constant state of uncertainty." I felt sorry for him.
"Very," he answered. "I'm ready to stop for a while. Maybe settle down. Somewhere small, quiet."
"Sounds like here would be great for you," I pushed.
"Yeah," he answered. "I couldn't do it for another year or so, due to contracts, though. And, that might be too painful." His voice had become practically a whisper.
A change of subject was necessary.
"Well, you look great," I complimented. "Almost like no time's passed."
"Me?" he questioned, doubt apparent in his eyes. "You look exactly the same, the same blush on your cheeks, the same light in your beautiful eyes. They are just as clear and the same shade of brown I remember." He reached out a hand and brushed it against my cheek tenderly.
I knew he was being kind. I looked, and often felt, every second of the years that had passed. When I gazed in his eyes, however, they did not give away any idea that he was lying. In fact, they appeared filled with adoration, causing appreciation to shoot through me.
"Thanks," I hedged. I looked down to the beers and realized that they were gone. I wondered how long we'd been talking; time had passed too quickly. There was really nothing else left to say. Well, nothing trivial. The most important words, the words I would never say due to my circumstances, still hung heavy in the air, making it difficult to breathe.
"Well, I'd better get going," I finally sputtered out. My tongue felt thick and tired from overuse; I hadn't spoken so much in a long time. My husband and I rarely spoke more than a few syllables to each other; we had nothing to say. "Mike will wonder where I am."
"Yes, me too," he whispered. "I'm visiting my mom. I'm sure she'll be worried about why I've been gone so long."
"Oh?" I asked. "Tell Elizabeth I said hello, and wish her a Merry Christmas for me. How is she?" I had heard she had gotten ill recently.
"She's getting better," he said. "She had gotten really sick after Dad passed; she wasn't taking care of herself. But the doctors at the hospital have done wonders for her. She's back home now, which is great." He sighed deeply. "Well, goodbye, Bella."
I leaned toward him, staring at his too tempting lips, remembering the feeling of having them against mine, the sweet taste of his tongue. I resolved myself, took a deep shuddery breath, and pressed my cheek against his. I wrapped my arms around his waist, reveling in the warmth and feeling of coming home. I let out a small sob and slid my face back, kissing where my cheek had just vacated.
It was all I could give and nowhere near enough, nowhere near what I wanted, what I needed. I swallowed hard, trying to beat back the misery, fighting the tears as they battled to escape.
"It was good seeing you," I rasped. "Have a great Christmas. Maybe we'll run into each other again." I seriously doubted that. We were in two different, rarely touching circles. Our meeting tonight had been a miracle. I looked into his eyes, trying to convey the words I would never say again, wishing he could read my mind.
I love you. I've always loved you.
"I hope so," he said, his voice breaking again. He stepped out of the car and trudged into the snow, turning around after a few feet. "Bye, Sweetheart," he whispered
I got out of my car and opened the front door, getting ready to sit in the driver's seat. When I looked toward him, he was standing still just outside his car. I tried one more time to silently express my need for him.
Tell me you love me. I'll stay. I'll stay forever with you.
"Drive safely," he called. "You need to get home to Mike in one piece."
He waved and I mimicked the gesture, sitting on the cold front seat. I lowered my passenger window and yelled, "I will. You drive safely, too."
I put the window back up, and reversed out of the space. Before I put the car in drive, I waved one last time, feeling my heart ache.
I watched him in the rear-view as I drove away, my vision blurring as my tears fell. The temperature must have risen that necessary degree for the snow to turn to rain, because sky joined in my weeping.
I kept watching him through my mirror, though I should have paid more attention to the road – it was deserted, no one was around. He stood there, stock still, as I watched his form slowly shrink. Just before I turned the corner, I could've sworn that I saw his shoulders slump. Bliss briefly shot through me, taking me higher than the clouds as I fantasized that he felt the same way I did. I even entertained turning around.
But too soon the euphoria ended and reality smashed me back into earth. He had been the one to end our relationship so long ago. He couldn't still feel the same. He wouldn't have finished with me then, if he had still loved me. Even if he did, I was married and boring. He was…him: smart, witty, gorgeous, still way out of my league. I was "small town," trapped by the choices I had made in the place I had always wanted to escape, stagnant. He was worldly, well-traveled, and even better educated. We no longer had anything in common. I had a brief time with him and I should have been happy with that. Besides, I was in love with an ideal, the ghost of a memory, not a real person.
Even so, the pain ripped through me, cutting just as deep as it had on the day I watched him leave fifteen years prior.
Somewhere, in the back of mind, my subconscious echoed my fears. "What if this never happened?" it asked, pulling my farther down into the depths.
"No," I screamed internally. "You will not do this to yourself. You will have these few all too brief moments to cherish for eternity, and you'll be grateful. Now, suck it up, and go back home."
*~*~*
A year later, I was driving and listening to the local radio station's Christmas marathon, when the DJ announced a new song by Edward Cullen. I automatically turned up the volume, wanting to hear his voice. His signature instrument, the piano, began a nostalgic, sentimental ballad that reached into my heart and tied it to his…forever.
As I finished my drive, I wept over the loss of our love and my probable last chance with him. Why hadn't I at least gotten his cell number? I was such an idiot.
Mike and I had called it quits in the past year and I was to spend this Christmas alone. That didn't bother me much; Mike and I had been long defunct. I just wished I had the opportunity to tell Edward, to open myself to him and profess my feelings.
I arrived at my apartment, and got to work at the mundane daily tasks. I put away the day's spoils and went to check my email. There, listed first, was a message stating that an EC wanted to befriend me on Facebook. I clicked the link to see Edward's profile staring at me. My heart leapt to my throat and I sat torn as to whether I should accept his invitation or not. I knew I would not get another chance but was I ready for disappointment if he wasn't interested in that way? I hesitantly moved the mouse to the accept button and clicked.
End Notes:
Please note, I know the song says that the "Old lover's eyes" were blue, but I had to play around with that since Bella's are brown. Besides, upon researching this song, I found that this was based on a real life experience of the singer's. And, her eyes were green, not blue. I figured if he could fudge the facts, so could I.
As mentioned, this is written for The Mystic Awards first dare. Their site can be found at: themysticawards(dot)webs(dot)com/dares(dot)htm
Lyrics to Same Auld Lang Syne by Dan Fogelberg:
Met my old lover in the grocery store
The snow was falling Christmas Eve
I stole behind her in the frozen foods
And I touched her on the sleeve
She didn't recognize the face at first
But then her eyes flew open wide
She went to hug me and she spilled her purse
And we laughed until we cried
We took her groceries to the checkout stand
The food was totalled up and bagged
We stood there lost in our embarrassment
As the conversation dragged
We went to have ourselves a drink or two
But couldn't find an open bar
We bought a six-pack at the liquor store
And we drank it in her car
We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to now
And tried to reach beyond the emptiness
But neither one knew how
She said, "She'd married her an architect
Who kept her warm and safe and dry"
She wouldn't liked to say she loved the man
But she didn't like to lie
I said, "The years had been a friend to her
And that her eyes were still as blue"
But in those eyes I wasn't sure if I saw
Doubt or gratitude
She said "She saw me in the record stores
And that I must be doing well"
I said "The audience was Heavenly
But the traveling was Hell"
We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to now
And tried to reach beyond an emptiness
But neither one knew how
We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to time
And reliving in our eloquence
Another auld lang syne
The beer was empty and our tongues were tired
And running out of things to say
She gave a kiss to me as I got out
And I watched her drive away
Just for a moment I was back at school
And felt that old familiar pain
And as I turned to make my way back home
The snow turned into rain