Well, I don't know. I can't get this out of my head. So yeah, another story. Hope you enjoy.
Summary: Edward Cullen, once a struggling painter who just lost the one he loved. Isabella Swan, once a spoiled rich girl who ran away from home. They met and fell hard. But love was never easy.
"At the end of the day, we're helpless. Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?"—Vancouver Sleep Clinic
My heels were clicking in the concrete pavement as my body maneuvered through people that walking by the street of Manhattan. I knew these five-inch Manolos weren't the wisest choice, but I was wearing them for a reason. Aside from the fact that they were a gift from Jasper, a true reminder of my life now, these were also my lucky charm. Which I hoped would bring me much luck tonight. Because I really needed it.
I walked tall and steady. Although inside was another story. Since I was in the cab, I had thought about backing down. My head screamed that I was not ready to do this. But, damn it. It had been five years. I had convinced myself over and over again that I couldn't fucking run forever. It was time to face him. The devil that had been haunting me even without his actual presence.
The restaurant I entered was fancy. If he told me to meet him here five years ago, I would die in surprise. But now, well, nothing shocked me anymore. Maybe all the rumors were true. Europe really did him good.
The waitress smiled brightly when she saw me approach.
"Evening, Miss—"
"I have a reservation under the name Cullen." I cut her off because fuck, I was nervous as hell.
She checked the list for a second.
"Mrs. Isabella Cullen?"
I regretted right away for letting him make the reservation. He was aware I wasn't a Cullen for a long time yet he did this on purpose as a soft reminder that we were still attached on the paper.
"Yes."
"This way, Ma'am. Your husband has been waiting."
I gritted my teeth at the word husband.
She led me to the table in the corner, far from prying eyes and curious faces, holding the privacy we needed. His back was on me, but even my observant eyes could see the change in him. The bronze hair that was once wild and unruly was shorter and much neater. The leather jacket that was once his signature style was replaced by a black suit. Which from the quick look at it seemed very expensive.
The waitress pulled the chair for me and I sat gracefully. His intense stare bored into my unsure one. He looked different, nicer, richer, that kind of stuff. But at the same time, I could see the old him creeping through. The crooked smile that always appeared every time he found something amusing. He was observing me too.
I casually hid my hands under the table, afraid that he might have noticed them tremble the entire time.
This effect he still had on me.
"Bella." He greeted, breaking the maddening silence. His calmness threw me off the guard. He came here prepared while I was still grasping the reality in front of me. This was a reckless move. Just like an email I sent him a week ago telling I wanted a divorce.
"Edward." I replied with a forced smile. "It's been a long time."
"Five years." He nodded, looking at me like he knew I had been counting too. Lifting his glass to his mouth to sip the wine. There was a bottle between us that read Romanée-Conti.
"Let's make this quick and short, shall we?" I started nicely. God knows I didn't plan to meet him again after this.
"I don't remember you like it that way." His lips curled up further.
My smile vanished immediately.
I had to restrain myself from charging at him right here right now to avoid causing a scene. Pushing my buttons was his thing. He liked getting the reaction out of me. But of course, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
Instead I dug into my tote handbag, pulling out the papers my lawyer had arranged.
"I bring you the papers." I said. Without a hint of politeness because screw that. Being with him for five minutes was enough to conclude that he was still the same selfish ignorant cocky asshole. And here I was, memorizing the pain of heartbreak he had put me through.
"You know I won't sign it." He sneered, putting the glass back on the table. Those beautiful greens were in clear furry now.
"You will. You have to. So, we can move on and get past this." So, the only thing that connected us would be broken forever.
"Have you? Moved on?" his tone was accusing. It was pure acid. But he didn't have the right to be angry. He was the one who left me.
"Yes." I was thinking about Jasper and the penthouse we lived in. The steady job and the prospect to start a family.
"You only say it to piss me off." He said. But I didn't waver.
"I don't."
"You still have your ring on." He stated a-matter-of-factly like it meant something. Those piercing eyes were glancing at my ring finger where a wedding band was tattooed. He had the matching one around his own.
"I'll have it removed." I said without thinking, quickly covering the ring tattoo with my other hand. His jaw hardened.
"Over my dead body." He hissed.
I stood abruptly. What was I thinking coming here?
"You know what, I'm done. This talk won't go anywhere. My lawyer will contact you."
He caught my wrist before I could really go anywhere. I flinched at the spark, but he just wouldn't let go.
"Will you give me a chance to explain?" he spoke softly. Gone all the trace of smugness and confidence in there.
I was wrong when I thought I was over his manipulative game. That voice alone was able to persuade me to stay and listen.
He guided me back to my seat before gesturing to the waitress to bring two main courses he had ordered for us. The premium steaks were served in front of us. The burgundy wine was poured into our glasses. The divorce papers were put aside. Untouched, forgotten. We looked like a rich couple that was just celebrating our anniversary at Michelin three-star restaurant.
When he began to eat, I didn't know what to do except to follow. The music faded in the background because it was muffled by our loud silence. The food was so good, the wine was even better, but the situation was the worst of the worst. I was foolish to think I would be unaffected by his presence. And all of a sudden the idea of ending this scared the hell out of me.
"I heard you continued your business school." He started the conversation, seemingly interested in this new topic.
"Yes." I replied. Didn't want to offer anything else.
He hummed, holding back a cynical comment I knew he wanted to make.
"Did you enjoy it?" he asked instead. I almost scoffed. He knew I hated it with passion.
"Of course." I lied smoothly. The truth was it was the only thing that could keep me busy. I needed something to take my mind off him.
"I'm glad." He lifted his eyebrow annoyingly. "You do look happy, though." The way he emphasized the word made it sound like a sarcasm.
"I am happy." I said firmly.
"I bet." He grinned devilishly.
I put down the fork, but keeping the knife. Just in case I changed my mind.
"What are you trying to say, Masen?"
My eyes widened. The name slipped out of my mouth unfiltered. I had not said the word for a long time, but I didn't think I would say it now. It felt more intimate somehow. Thinking back at how he let me call him by the nickname his mother gave.
"I think you're mistaken the same boring routine as happiness."
How dared he?
My hold around the knife tightened. The sanest part in me won the battle to not stab him in the neck.
"You're just jealous I'm happy without you." I glared.
He shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm not jealous. I'm happy if you're truly happy."
"Bullshit." I muttered under my breath, but he heard me.
"No. You really deserve it."
"You left me. Why?" I asked out of the blue. My voice was only above a whisper. This question had been on the tip of my tongue. I had wanted to scream it to his face since the first time our eyes met in five years.
I promised myself I wouldn't cry in front of him. I wouldn't let him ruin me for the second time.
He inhaled deeply. As though he had prepared for this conversation since forever.
"That was the best option I had."
"The fuck?" my voice might raise an octave or two because now some people were turning to us. I ignored them.
"What? We didn't have anything back then, Bella. I didn't have anything. I couldn't give you the life that you deserved."
"We could try!"
"No, we couldn't. And I'm so sorry." He said sincerely. Those greens were empty, recalling that dark day sadly.
I shook my head, trying to keep my tears at bay. "What we had was enough, Edward."
"It was not. We barely had the food on the table." He replied bitterly.
"Didn't you love me?" I asked quietly.
"Of course, I did. I'm always gonna love you." The answer warmed my heart. Still, my first tear fell.
"Then, why? Why did you betray me? Why did you let my parents take me away?" I almost shouted. The pain and hatred were a dangerous mix together.
"Muse." He begged, calling me the name that now felt foreign. As if it pained him to see me like this, reopening the wounds that had started to heal. "You two deserve the world."
Tears were running down my face right away. He rubbed salt into my wounds without knowing. Something I didn't want to remember, but I couldn't as he had mentioned it. All of a sudden I was dragged back to that moment. The lowest point of my life. When I lost another part of me, the one I loved more than anything in life. It was still hurting. And I knew the hole in my heart would never heal completely.
"How's is she?" he asked, smiling even though he had never met her. It stabbed me in the chest. "Is she even a she?"
"She is a she." I replied between sobs. He reached for my hand in soothing gesture, wasn't prepared for the news I was about to tell him. "But I lost her." I choked out. "I lost our baby."
Tell me what you think...