A/N: So, this story was just yanked and I have no idea why. I'm pretty bummed because it was the first story I wrote independently. Someone Like You was a collab. So, yeah, I'm not happy about it. I've had no contact from FFn, other than to be banned from sending PMs for a little while last night. I guess someone's reported it, which is bloody ridiculous because there's nothing in this story that could be construed as breaking FFn's TOS. Anyway, whatever...
Oh, and a head's up this chapter contains sensitive subject matter.
Because of You
Chapter 1
Bella's POV
On Christmas Eve 2014, my mother, Renee Dwyer, died.
While driving under the influence she hit a telegraph pole travelling over 150 kilometres an hour. Her blood alcohol level was four times over the legal Australian limit.
She died instantly. I was nineteen.
The General didn't tell me until a week later. He didn't want to spoil my Christmas, was his reasoning. He was home for a week over the holiday and decided to tell me just before he left, and before I left with Edward, Alice and Jazz for the week to the Sol Duc Hot Springs Resort in Port Angeles.
I had no idea how to feel. Literally. The instant he told me I froze, and for a moment I felt as if my heart was being clenched, but it all too quickly passed before I turned...impassive. I told myself I was experiencing projections of grief for the mother I had always dreamed Renee was; a fantasy I'd constructed as a way to endure the emotional damage of my childhood. At least until I was reminded of the brutal truth of reality; of who Renee really was.
But still, it almost took the breath out of me.
"You're going to have to return to Australia to sort out her estate, Isabella," my father explained sedately to me, buttoning up my jacket as I stood in the doorway trembling uncontrollably during our farewell. "She left everything to you..."
"She did...?" I asked, my voice almost failing. I was stunned, before I focused my attention on the implications of my father's words.
I quickly became cynical.
Everything, I wanted to scoff. My mother owned a rundown farm on twenty-five acres of land. Something she inherited from her parents. That everything would be nothing but a constant reminder of the pain I'd suffered throughout the majority of my life.
Now it was mine, and I had to go back again.
"She did," my father reiterated before he bent down and planted a tight-lipped kiss on my cheek. "Look after yourself. Keep up your studies—make me proud." And with a semi-warm smile, The General placed his palm momentarily on the top of my head before he turned and walked down the path to the waiting Taxi.
I waited on the doorstep in the freezing cold, and watched my father leave before numbly trudging upstairs to my room to retrieve my packed bag. My heart was hammering, and I wasn't sure whether it was over the usual heartache I felt over my father leaving, or because of my mother's death.
Or because I was pregnant.
My iPhone buzzed. I retrieved it from my bedside table; it was Edward.
Be there in 5, babe.
Mechanically, my finger pressed over the screened keyboard in reply: K.
After Kel's funeral and we were back in Forks, Edward and I went through twelve rocky months before things began to really calm between us. In all retrospect it should have been the end of us, but with me and him it was never that simple; never that black and white.
We fought all the time—passionately, heatedly—screaming at each other face to face, over the phone, through Alice, Jazz, Jake; whoever was there. It was never pretty and had become notorious. I'd tell Edward how much I hated him, and how much I wished I'd never met him. He'd tell me getting emotionally invested in me was the worst fucking mistake of his life and he wished he could just go back to fucking mindless girls. That was the PG version, anyway. I'd throw something at him or shove him—or both—and not speak to him for a week. Edward would then hound me to no end, yelling out to me in the middle of the night below my bedroom window, or climbing through it and almost falling and breaking his neck more times than I could recall. I would always forgive him. How could I not? This connection of ours went way too deep to sever that easily, and he always knew exactly what to say to get me to come around.
And I loved him as much as I always did, with the same intensity and emotional charge.
We then apologised to each other, cried, kissed, had repeated make-up sex, swore our undying love, had more sex, and then everything would be fine. For a month, at least. Then my high strung boyfriend would provoke my neurotic anal retentiveness, and we'd both overreact. There'd be another ridiculously huge blowout and the ritual would begin all over again.
It wasn't until we graduated that our relationship really started growing a solid foundation. I also think the fact that we didn't see so much of each other made a huge difference. Once we both had some real direction in our lives things were different. At least, when Edward had direction, because I had no idea what I wanted to do with myself. Apart of me still felt as lost as I did on my first day in Forks. I had no idea who I really was without the history of my past.
But with Edward more at ease, so was my reaction to him.
Edward was still essentially Edward, though; bad tempered, acts before he thinks, gets completely controlled by his emotions, Edward.
And I was still, well, me.
Edward started at South Seattle Community College this past September to get his EMT-B certificate, and during the summer after graduation, while he was getting certified in CPR, Carlisle got him a job working with paramedics. At the same time, Alice and I were accepted at Seattle University. I decided on Business Economics for no other reason than it seemed like it could actually lead to a real job at the end, and my father was paying for it. Alice was doing Nursing; making Carlisle very proud having successfully encouraged two of his three step kids into the field of health care.
During the summer, while Edward was working in Port Angeles, Uncle Billy got me a Job in the station as a receptionist. Edward and I barely saw each other. We spent the weekends together, of course, and a couple of nights during the week he would come and pick me up and we'd drive to our secluded place in the woods and have sex.
Then, when I started College, the General paid for a small shoebox of a one bedroom apartment for me with the explicit instructions that that boy—meaning Edward—didn't live there with me. He stayed with me anyway. For half the time, at least. The other half he stayed with Alice and Jazz on the sofa; which drove him crazy, and extinguished most of his sex drive. His words, not mine. But things had been working out pretty well. We weren't fighting any more, and for the first time in a long time I started to think that we really did have a shot at it.
Then that morning happened six days ago.
I found myself staring down at a little plastic stick with two bright pink lines across it in the growing midst of a huge anxiety attack.
I have no idea how it happened—apart from the obvious, of course. I had never missed a pill, I hadn't gotten sick to cause a missed pill, and I was always cautious to the point of being militant on birth control. But it still happened, and I was convinced it'd be the end of us. I was nowhere near ready, and Edward... I honestly had absolutely no idea how he'd handle it. He was still as impulsive and unpredictable as he ever was, and I couldn't imagine he'd take it well.
And I was repeating the cycle; a legacy of my mother's I swore I never would.
That fateful morning was two days before Christmas, and now that I thought about it, with Australia being almost a full day ahead of the U.S, I found out the day my mother was killed. How poetic.
Edward still doesn't know, but it's not as if he didn't immediately pick up on it. He's always been very in tune with me and knew immediately when I'm upset over something, but this time, uncharacteristically, he didn't bug me over it at all. He'd only glanced at me with a troubled expression growing across his face, but remained quiet. Maybe he sensed how huge it was and was protecting himself behind denial.
Whatever the reason, I'd decided I was going to tell him during our break.
Hauling my bag off my bed, I carried it downstairs and dropped it at the front door before turning back to the living room. Jake and Leah were playing Xbox on the couch, heckling and elbowing each other.
I'd actually worried a lot about Jake and Leah in the beginning. I thought Leah was Jake's transition from Nessie, but as it turned out she was the best thing to happen to him. They had so much in common and they never fought, ever. Uncle Billy was overjoyed with them being together, and he often went off on his fishing trips and allowed the two of them to house sit—alone.
That never happened when he was with Nessie.
"I'm off, guys!" I called to them over the ruckus of their game. It was the last chance I'd get to say goodbye. I was going back to school immediately after our trip.
Jake paused the game and immediately jumped off the couch to grab me in a big bear hug; hauling me off the ground. It knocked the wind out of me like it usually did. He was 6"6 now and still had no idea of his own strength.
"Seeya, Bells!" he exclaimed with his usual warmth and enthusiasm, before smashing a sloppy kiss on my cheek.
"Bye, cuz," I murmured with a small smile.
In response, Jake held me at arm's length and gauged me for a moment. "You okay, Bells? You've been pretty weepy the last few days."
I guess I officially sucked at pretences.
"Yeah, I'm just tired—I'm still getting used to my school schedule," I lied, shrugging and severing his concerned gaze to stare momentarily at the floorboards.
Jake didn't look too convinced, but before he could question me, Leah suddenly yanked me into her embrace.
"Catch ya soon, Bells, yeah."
"See ya, Leah. Look after him for me."
"Will do," she replied winking, and making a reluctant grin pull on my lips.
You couldn't help but smile around the two of them; their energy was contagious.
By the time I'd said my goodbyes to Uncle Billy, Edward's midnight blue Volvo was already parked in front of the house. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I closed the door behind me—immediately going rigid in the cold—as Edward made his way up the path towards me.
His face was pale and flushed from the cold weather, and as our eyes met he broke into a warm, welcoming grin. Though, there was still something wary about his expression. Unless I was just being paranoid...
To me Edward was Edward. My boyfriend, my tormentor, my ally, but I often forgot how handsome he was. How handsome he grew with every passing month. At times it stopped me short, drawing my breath in surprise—like it did now.
I smiled without conscious thought, but inside I wanted to cry. This handsome boy had ruined my life, and I was about to ruin his.
Taking my bag gently from me, he dropped it to the ground before pulling me against him. I could feel the warmth of his skin through his jacket, and I pressed myself further against him, hoping it would erase all my stress, all my worries, like it used to.
But not this time.
Taking a heavy breath, I released it into a long, drawn out sigh that Edward immediately reacted to.
"Come on," he mumbled softly before slipping his arm around my shoulders and leading me to his car.
He drove in silence for a few minutes, turning to glance at me a couple of times with that troubled concern, before with a heavy breath, he spoke up, "Bella, what the hell is going on—you've been—"
"My mother died," I confessed before he could finish. Though, that wasn't the reason he was referring to.
He immediately pulled the car over to the side of the road, and turned to me. "H-how?
"DUI," I answered without emotion, glancing out the window.
It was snowing...
"Fuck, babe," he said quietly. "How do you feel?" His hand dropped to my leg, squeezing gently.
I shrugged before answering truthfully and without deviating my eyes from the gently falling snow, "I don't know..."
It's not as if there's a handbook on it—on how to feel when the abusive, alcoholic mother who despised you all your life suddenly dies.
There was silence, and when I turned to look at him his pensive gaze caught mine. "Are you okay?" he asked apprehensively.
"Yeah, I guess..." I mumbled, because that was also the truth. It was a strange revelation to know my mother was dead. Apart of me felt an emancipating kind of relief, another part of me felt nothing, and the final part of me was sad. Sad, not because of what was, but of what should have been.
A percentage of me wanted to mourn for a mother who never existed.
"Babe..." he breached, his tone gentle, "it's obvious you're not okay. I mean, shit, this has to screw with your head a little bit, doesn't it?"
I shrugged again, happy for the most part that he was accepting my mother's death as the cause of my mood over the last few days; happy to hide in the lie a bit longer. So I focused my thoughts further on it. "I suppose it does, but really...there's just nothing there. I wish someone would tell me how I'm supposed to feel, because...I don't know how to..."
Sliding his palm to the nape of my neck, he pulled me towards him and pressed his lips gently against my temple. "I'm sorry, baby—not because she's dead, but because..." he abandoned it, but I understood his meaning.
"I know," I replied softly with a small smile. Then raising my head, I connected my lips with his, tenderly but briefly. "Now stop being such a sap. We're going to be late," I teased him.
He took a relieved kind of breath, breaking into a grin as he did, before turning back to the road and pulling onto the highway.
We drove for about half an hour in relatively comfortable silence. Edward left his hand resting on my knee, moving it only to change gears before back again, but as I glanced at him, I noticed the crick between his brows grow deeper and deeper.
He still sensed there was more to it, and five minutes later he put a voice to his intuition. "Sure nothing else is bothering you, baby?"
"Yeah, I'm also pregnant."
Wait—did I just say that out loud?
I'm guessing by the way Edward slammed on his brakes, I did.
I have no idea how we made it to Port Angeles alive. Edward's hands shook the entire way while his face steadily paled and his expression grew more panicked with each passing mile.
After the initial shock, there was silence. I didn't know what else to say, and it was obvious Edward was struggling to process it—struggling to come to terms with this new reality. At one point I actually thought the vein running down the middle of his forehead might burst.
His hand no longer rested on my leg. It stayed against the side of his face, his tense fingers pushing into his ridged brow. I just continued to gaze out the window, trying so desperately to keep my tears at bay and stem my growing anxiety, while having one final sickening revelation.
Renee was going to have the last laugh; I was following in her footsteps.
When we finally arrived, Edward parked the car; only he didn't move to get out. He only sat, appearing lost in thought while his hands remained clasped around the steering wheel.
I sat beside him with a sense of inevitability growing within me, then with a heavy, resigned breath, I turned to exit the car.
Reaching out, he grabbed my hand.
I turned and reluctantly met his gaze. His eyes were burning, his brows bunched heavily over them, when he momentarily looked away. "I'm sorry, baby. It was just...kind of a shock," he explained after a moment, the tone of his voice still reflective of it.
"Yeah, I know..." I replied in barely a whisper and in empathy with him. I knew how badly I'd reacted when I found out; did I expect Edward to take it any better?
He squeezed my hand, his eyes becoming suddenly determined and resolute. "We're gonna work this out—okay?"
I nodded again, my smile almost genuine, and I wanted so much to believe him, but I wasn't sure I did.
After retrieving our bags out of his trunk, he slung them over his shoulder and we headed towards the main reception building of the log cabin springs. I was walking slightly ahead of him, and reaching out, he grabbed my jacket and pulled me to him; wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
"I want you to trust me, Bella," he said softly against my hair. "We're going to be okay." He sounded so certain, and as if to reiterate it, he pressed his warm lips to my temple.
For one brief moment I was flooded with optimism, but inevitably, it didn't last long.
After checking in, we went in search of our cabin; this is when we ran into Jazz and Alice. And of course, Alice being Alice, she zeroed in on us straight away.
"What's going on with you two?" she asked suspiciously after the formalities of our hellos, her eyebrows narrowing.
"We're fine. Bella's just not feeling very well," Edward mumbled, his eyes breaking from hers to rest at his feet, and bloody hell, he was a terrible liar!
Alice's gaze locked to mine, scrutinizing me for a moment, before it dipped to my stomach.
Shit!
It was morning, Edward said I was sick—what other conclusion would she come to? Morning sickness; even though I didn't have anything of the kind.
Yet.
When her gaze rose again to meet mine, it was suddenly plagued with concern.
Feeling immediately exposed, I hastily severed eye contact, frustrated that she was so perceptive. I turned back to Edward; he was rubbing the heel of his palm heavily into his forehead, and he was screaming discomfort.
I only sighed.
"Dude...you okay?" Jazz finally asked as he gazed between me and Edward, his brow knotting in obvious confusion.
"Yeah..." Edward muttered in reply without looking at him.
"So, what say we meet at the springs in about...ten?" Alice piped up, her enthusiasm suddenly sounding feigned.
It was agreed upon by all before we separated to find our cabins.
Edward and I were in number 22.
"What is that horrible smell?" I asked, immediately clamping my hand over my nose and mouth as Edward unlocked the door.
He turned back to me, a small smile ghosting over his lips. "Probably the sulphur, babe."
I guess being a natural hot spring, it made sense, but it was quickly making me nauseated. With my stomach beginning to churn, I pushed past him into the cabin and dropped down on the bed, expelling my breath. The room was cosy and quaint, but all I could suddenly focus on was how queasy I felt.
Flopping back on the bed, I draped my forearm over my eyes and groaned softly. It was followed by silence, and when I moved my arm to peek beneath it, my eyes locked with Edward's. He stood at the foot of the bed, a frown forming across his face.
I was suddenly flooding with guilt.
"I'm sorry, Edward," I mumbled with a helpless sigh before pushing myself semi-upright on my elbows.
His entire face warmed, his expression almost looking vulnerable, and climbing on the bed beside me he pulled me against his chest.
I immediately clung to him, curling my body around his and craving the heat of his skin beneath his layers of clothes.
His lips pressed to my forehead before I was bathed in his breath a moment later. "Why are you apologising?" he murmured.
"Because..." I mumbled, feeling my face cloud with despair, "I've ruined everything..."
He scoffed softly before resting his chin on the top of my head. "Don't be a dag," he teased me, his tone turning light, before pulling back to see my face. "You haven't ruined anything."
I flashed him a wry grin without really feeling it, before laying my head back against his chest.
Wrapping his arms tighter around me, he took one heavy, burdened breath after another. "We'll talk about it tonight, baby. Just try and relax for now, okay?" he said, the preoccupation in his voice obvious.
It's not that I could blame him, or anything. Though, so far he was taking it a lot better than I'd first thought.
I only nodded, taking a resigned breath in echo with him. "I love you," I whispered after a while, my voice beginning to choke.
"I love you too, cheeseball," he replied without a pause, his tone tender.
Focusing on it was beginning to make me feel too inundated, too overwhelmed, and Edward, seeming to sense this, pulled the two of us up and off the bed. "Come on, buttercup, let's get our cozies on."
There were three springs formed into circular concrete pools, each with a different surface temperature. Edward and I climbed into the warmest at 44 Celsius.
If only the smell of the sulphur didn't make me feel so terrible it would have been perfect. And if I wasn't pregnant too, of course.
The feel of the mineral water was so soothing, and after submerging completely, I relaxed my back up against Edward and closed my eyes; exhaling into a contented hum. Edward cradled me, grazing his fingers absently over my ribs, my stomach, and my breasts without breaking the silence between us.
With my eyes closed, I listened to the sounds of the wildlife surrounding us, intermingled with the steady rhythm of Edward's heart—and the approaching shrill voice of Alice. Then in the next moment, an almighty splash completely disrupted our moment of peace, while the resulting waves began to give me an impression of sea sickness.
I sat upright between Edward's knees, getting my bearings, as Edward huffed out his breath in irritation. "Jesus, Jazz, do you always have to act like a fucking five year old?"
Jazz's only response was to splash Edward directly in the face, and for three seconds he was fuming; until his eyes locked slyly to Jazz and he lunged at him.
For the next several minutes the two of them did their best to drown each other while Alice and I, attempting to avoid the resulting tsunamis, moved to the farthest side of the pool. I sat on the step, needing to be anchored, while Alice spread herself out on her stomach and continued to observe me closely.
The smell of the sulphur was really beginning to compromise me, and Alice was not proving to be much of a distraction from it. Ironically, I found myself glad for the fumes to distract me from her way too observant gaze.
She made chit-chat with me, asking me overtly casual questions about Jake and Leah and what I got for Christmas, etc. She was obviously hoping I'd volunteer whatever information willingly, but when that failed, and with her face beginning to darken with frustration, she came right out and asked, "Bella"—her expression suddenly smoothed out with alarm—"are you going to be sick?"
"Yes!" I burst, the palm of my hand muffling my voice as I leaped from the pool and stumbled towards the restrooms.
I barely made it, and it wasn't pretty; nor was it only once. I hadn't thrown up like that since...the night of Kel's funeral.
Luckily, Alice was by my side to hold back my wet hair as I sat trembling on the cold concrete floor and whimpering into the hollow bowl.
"Ohhhh dear..." Alice murmured, her tone reflecting my pitiful situation as she smoothed back my hair.
"You know, don't you?" I mumbled with a shaky, quivering voice, my eyes clamped shut as I concentrated on taking deep, even breaths.
"That I'm going to be an Aunty? Yes, I know..." she replied gently.
"Oh, God, Alice," I moaned, pushing myself back off the toilet rim as she flushed it. "What the hell have I done?"
She wrapped her arm consolingly around my neck, pulling me closer to her. "Apart from loving my goofy brother? Nothing."
Her damp skin was warm, and unlike me shuddering violently against her, she was completely composed. "How are you not cold?" I asked, grateful for the distraction.
"Oh please," she waved her hand dismissively, her tone light and teasing, "we lived in Alaska for five years. This is nothing."
I smiled before it quickly faded and I began to feel the weight of this new reality once more plague me. "Alice..." I whispered, suddenly close to tears, "I'm not ready for this, and Edward—well, you know how Edward is."
She nodded in understanding, her expression thoughtful while her smile turned almost sad. "I know how Edward is..."
I only gazed at her for a moment, my eyes pleading with hers futilely, because what the hell did I expect her to do? Make this all go away?
Expelling my breath, and shaking my head lightly to myself, I pushed it forcefully from my thoughts; reminding myself that Edward and I hadn't even really talked about it yet. I'd have plenty of time to fall apart after, but at the moment, I really had to keep it together and at least attempt to stay positive—and have even a minimal amount of faith in our relationship.
"I don't know..." I mumbled aloud, conceding to my own pessimistic thoughts regardless.
"It'll be okay, Bella. Trust me," Alice said, taking the reins in optimism in the wake of my dismal failure.
I forced a begrudging smile to my lips before it turned melancholy. "Edward said the same thing."
"Well, see? That means it has to be," she replied, her smile this time broad and encouraging.
Wrapping her arms more securely around me, she helped me to my feet, when we were suddenly interrupted by a loud banging on the entrance door.
"Bella—are you okay?" Edward called from the other side of it before he walked in, dripping wet and full of anxiety.
"I'm fine," I assured him, walking to the sink to rinse out my mouth on shaky, wobbly legs.
"Edward, this is the ladies room!" Alice hissed.
"Bite me, ferret," he retorted, his eyes on me, before he took my hand and pulled me closer to him. "Do you want to lie down for a while, baby?"
"Maybe get something to eat..." I suggested, resting my forehead on his chest for a moment, continuing to feel the dizzying effects on my equilibrium.
His warm hand slid around to the back of my neck, beneath my hair, before he planted his lips to the top of my head. "Come on then..."
He sounded troubled and preoccupied again, and I was willing to bet it was something I'd have to get accustomed to.
We ate an early lunch in the dining area of the main building. After, Jazz and Edward played a few games of pool while Alice and I browsed the souvenir store.
"Jazz'll keep him occupied, don't worry," Alice reassured me after the tenth obvious time that I looked back over at Edward; becoming distracted by him.
I nodded and half shrugged my shoulders. He was too calm, but you could see it brewing just beneath the surface. He was really beginning to worry me.
"How long have you had morning sickness for?" she asked, interrupting my thoughts.
"I haven't had any, yet. It's the smell of sulphur in the springs," I explained quietly.
So long as I didn't have to inhale the smell of it I was okay, but since we'd deliberately chosen this resort for the hot springs, it threatened to ruin the entire trip.
Alice only gazed at me for a moment, her forehead beginning to furrow before she asked delicately, "How far along are you?"
I looked down at the fridge magnet I held in my hands for no other reason but to avoid the intensity of her eyes. "I'm not sure. Six weeks...possibly more..." I wanted to ask her if we could please not talk about it; to respect my right of denial, but Alice being as insightful as she was I didn't have to. She steered the conversation away and didn't mention it again.
In the early afternoon we went hiking. It was good for me to keep moving because the cold was practically paralysing, but by the time dinner arrived I was exhausted and not terribly hungry. On top of this, I found that food I used to love suddenly tasted metallic and unappetising.
I was sure it all had to be my imagination.
Of course, Edward ate enough for both of us, and it was a good distraction. It was completely corny, but I liked to watch the way his jaw clenched when he chewed his food. He turned to me often with a quirked brow and a puzzled smile forming across his lips, but I only shook my head in response to him.
"You look buggered, buttercup," he teased me, murmuring against my ear, but then, I was practically asleep at the table.
I broke into a warm, drowsy grin and nudged him. "Shut up."
"Wanna head back to our room?" he suggested.
After saying goodnight to Alice and Jazz, we set off to our cabin.
"I don't think I'm going back to school next week," I said to him absently as I stared up at an uncharacteristically clear, star filled night.
He paused, almost stopping. "Why...?"
"I have to go back to Australia," I elaborated, snuggling further against him, to shield myself from the cold; cold that I still wasn't acclimatised to.
This time he did stop. "You're going to your mother's funeral?" he asked, his tone completely cynical.
I scoffed. "No, but she left everything to me in her will, so I have to go."
There was silence, and when I finally peered up at him, his brow was bunched. "Seriously? What did she leave you?"
We started walking again.
"My grandparent's farm," I answered in a mumble. "It's just useless land now, but I know she always leased it to dairy farmers to graze their cattle. Someone will buy it."
"I'm coming with you," he suddenly asserted.
"Edward..." I sighed. "You really don't have to," I said for the sake of pretences because deep down I felt like collapsing in relief. I wanted Edward with me; I was terrified of going alone and I didn't have to explain to him why. I was just worried about him missing too much school.
"Bella, I'm coming," he insisted stubbornly, before he opened his mouth, seeming to add something further, when he let it go.
"What?" I prompted him.
"Is...it even safe for you to fly so far?" he asked, his brow heavily furrowed, but I had no idea what emotion he was portraying.
And it irritated me.
"Of course it is! Why wouldn't it be?" I snapped, shrugging his arm from my shoulder.
He only sighed, dragging his hand backwards and then forwards through his hair before pulling the keys to the cabin from his pocket.
I had a shower and when I emerged, wrapped up in a fluffy, thick robe, Edward was making hot chocolate in the small kitchenette. He flashed me an almost uncertain, but nonetheless warm smile, and I immediately felt terrible.
He was taking it all far better than I was, and I was repaying him buy acting like a psychopath.
With a fractured sigh that threatened to bring me to sobs, I curled myself against him and wrapped my arms tightly around his waist.
"I'm sorry. I'm being a bitch, I know," I murmured before pushing my face into his chest.
He released his breath deeply, and hearing the anxiety behind it, I became even more impacted. "You have to stop apologising, baby."
Before I could stop them, my tears silently overflowed, until I could no longer hold back the sobs. Edward only engulfed me tighter in his arms but it did nothing to quell my fears.
"Bella..." his voice sounded afflicted; I could hear the uncertainty flooding it. He cupped my face between his hands, forcing me to look at him. "Do you think I'm all of a sudden going to stop loving you? That I'll no longer want to be with you?"
"I'm-I'm worried you'll end up resenting me," I admitted, my breath jerking, "and then I'll resent..." But I couldn't finish it and filling with shame, I broke his gaze.
"Jesus, Bella—look at me." He sounded frustrated this time, and when I again met his eyes, they did nothing to ease my concerns. He looked...overwhelmed. There was no other words to explain it. "You are not your mother."
I only nodded numbly, wanting so desperately to believe him but I couldn't. Not yet. Maybe never...
"Okay...?" he urged me when I failed to answer him.
I nodded, yielding into a small smile.
He kissed me gently but briefly on the lips, but I could feel the shift in him; how tense he was. Retrieving the two mugs from the kitchen counter, he handed one to me. Bringing it to my lips, I inhaled it in deeply before taking a sip as Edward led me to the couch. It sat in front of an open fireplace that Edward had evidently started while I was in the shower. Sitting down first, he pulled me beside him before I curled my legs beneath me and snuggled further against his side.
We drank our hot chocolate in silence for several moments, both obviously lost in our own thoughts. Eventually, Edward pulled my legs over his lap, and curved his palm around my bare, lower thigh.
"It freaked me the fuck out this morning, Baby," he admitted before scoffing softly to himself. His eyes were steeled to the fire when he turned them to me, "but I've had a chance to think about it, and...I mean, I don't think it's a disaster or anything."
I only hummed softly in answer, in contemplation, wishing I could feel the same.
His hand squeezed around my leg, his thumb running up and down my skin absently. "Between us, we have enough money to get an apartment and live while I'm finishing paramedic school. We can make it work." He raised his eyebrows in emphasis, and whether it was to reassure me or him, I wasn't sure.
But I wasn't convinced.
"So...you want us to shack up?" I asked dryly as the beginnings of irritation grew steadily within me again.
His brow quirked cynically and he all but rolled his eyes. "Isn't that what we're already doing?"
I shrugged a shoulder and huffed, but I wasn't really sure what I expected him to say.
"I'd rather shack up with you all the time, but your father is too much of an asshole about me still!" he stated, his expression darkening with the same anger and frustration I knew my father brought out in him.
"He's the one paying for it—as well as my college tuition," I reminded him in a futile attempt at defending my father, but I knew how unreasonable he was regarding Edward.
Though, I could just hear my father now, as soon as he found out I was pregnant: The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
I was mortified that I'd be disappointing him.
Edward turned back to me, his forehead knotting with irritation. "I don't need him to pay for shit!—I can take care of my own responsibilities."
"Is that what I am? Your responsibility?" I snapped, shoving his hand from me.
He scoffed to himself and I think he almost meant to laugh. "No, you're the fucking love of my life," he said sarcastically. "This"—he placed his palm across my lower abdomen—"is my responsibility."
We were feeding off each other, fuelling the momentum. I knew the signs from the all the numerous fights we'd had in the past, but right then my tenuous emotions were all that was in control, and I didn't know how else to respond.
And it was making me angrier.
"Right now, it's my responsibility," I retorted before roughly pulling myself off the couch and almost buckling for a moment as a sharp stabbing pain shot through my stomach.
Quickly righting myself, I took a step towards the door, but Edward grabbed my hand, spinning me around to face him. "What's that supposed to mean, Bella?" he demanded. He was angry, but at the same time I knew I'd hurt him.
"What I mean is," I replied mockingly, "it's in my body—not yours!"
"Well, I'm sorry I don't have a fucking uterus! It's still half my baby!"
"It isn't a BABY!" I hollered.
"It's A-FUCKING-LIVE!" he yelled back, making his face go bold red as the vein down his forehead bulged alarmingly.
I didn't say anything; I just stood gazing at him defiantly, even when it became evident how upset I was making him.
"Don't I get a say in this at all?" he challenged me, and he sounded suddenly defeated.
I expelled a short, impatient breath, shaking my head. "You have not once asked me what I even want to do!" I stressed, yanking my hand from his grip before I attempted to shove past him.
He grabbed the tops of my arms, preventing me from moving. "What do you want to do, Bella—have a fucking abortion?" His eyes were wide and almost full of disbelief, but he was becoming so angry that for one single moment I was scared of how he might react.
"Maybe I do," I spat back, coldly and without emotion, because for this baby growing within me, I had absolutely none at all.
Just like my mother's death, I felt nothing...
Edward's face almost turned blank before he practically shoved me from him. Then turning his back on me, he dropped his head and placed his hands on his hips. "Go ahead and fucking do it, then."
I couldn't see his expression, but I could hear it reflected in his voice. I'd just ripped his heart out and stabbed him in the back with it. I was fully aware of how much I was hurting him, but I was too pig-headed and stubborn, and so paralysed by the fear of my past to care.
As I made for the bedroom, Edward headed for the front door, but just as he reached it he turned back to me. "I take it back, Bella."
I looked up at him; his entire expression was contorted with pain and anger, while his eyes were so hard I barely recognised him behind them.
And then he said it, "You are exactly like your mother—you both hate your own fucking kid!" He left the cabin then, slamming the door behind him so hard the entire room shook.
I only stood frozen, feeling like I'd had every molecule of air torn from my lungs, and as I struggled to breathe, struggled to comprehend what had just happened, tears began to flood me.
I had been so consumed by not becoming my mother that I was becoming something worse. And I'm pretty sure I just lost the other part of my soul.
I called Jacob to pick me up. I was such an incoherent mess that it took several attempts before he understood me. He was such a sweetheart, too; promising me, despite it being 10:30 at night, he was coming right then and there, that it only made this gut wrenching guilt I felt over Edward all the more unbearable.
I packed up my bag hastily, throwing my clothes into it completely blinded by my tears, when Alice suddenly burst through the door.
"Bella!" she exclaimed, full of alarm. "Oh my God—what happened? Edward is falling apart!" The tone of her voice rose at the end; the fear she felt for her brother was blatant.
"I've got to go home, Alice," I told her, clumsily attempting to wipe my eyes dry as I zipped up my bag. "Take care of Edward. I'm toxic at the moment. I-I need some time to—I don't know. To get my head around all of this!"
"Bella..." she said softly, shaking her head to herself as if she was attempting to comprehend it, before taking an apprehensive step toward me, "don't you want to...have it...?"
I paused and looked over at her, before shaking my head. "I don't know," I whispered, and I didn't.
All I knew was that I had to get myself under control before I lost everything. And everyone.
Picking up my bag, I moved toward the door when she jumped in front of me. "Bella, please don't leave," she pleaded with me seeming close to tears. "You and Edward need to talk this over properly."
I only shook my head. "I'm no good for Edward at the moment, Alice. I'm no good for anyone."
I waited by the main reception building for Jacob, noticing his car immediately as it came down the long drive. In the next moment he was striding towards me, his expression completely overrun by fear and concern that I felt myself immediately crumble.
He caught me, engulfing me in his mammoth embrace that I was all too willing to surrender to. I always felt completely safe with Jake, but even now as I enfolded myself within the security of his arms, I felt like I was free-falling.
"Bells..." he whispered, his obvious confusion compromising his voice.
"Let's just go, Jake. Please," I sobbed, shuddering against him as I subconsciously sought out the warmth of his skin that was never going to unburden me.
Without a word, Jake picked up my bag, and then practically carrying me to his car, we headed back to Forks.
For the next several days, under the scrutinising watch of Uncle Billy and Jake, I barely left the confines of my room as I attempted to somehow find an acceptance in this situation. Even to embrace it, if only because it was something intimate between me and Edward. Something I should have been even cherishing despite the now uncertainty of our future, of our relationship. But I couldn't clear a pathway through the cataclysm of fear and inevitability to find any point of acceptance. And I sure as hell couldn't find a reason to embrace it.
I'd been unbelievably horrible to Edward, yet at the same time I couldn't shake off the feeling that he'd somehow betrayed me—betrayed us. Which was completely ridiculous. He wanted to make it work; I just wanted a reason to blame him, resent him; to hate him for getting me in this predicament.
That too was absurd, while the irony wasn't lost on me. I'd insisted to him that it was my problem alone and that he couldn't help me, but the reality was Edward no more did this to me than I did it to myself.
I was nineteen and pregnant, while it seemed like my mother was going to haunt me from the grave as much as she did in life. And I was letting her. That was my reality. Even now, after two years of finding acceptance and family on the other side of the world, I couldn't rid myself of her. I couldn't emancipate myself from the power she held over me.
No one but Edward and Alice, and more than likely Jazz, as well, knew of my pregnancy. I couldn't bring myself to tell Uncle Billy, or even Jake. The shame I felt over it was still too prevailing. It's not like they hadn't asked me repeatedly what was happening, but in the end, they just assumed I'd had another fight with Edward. Which in turn I knew would only fuel their distrust of him.
I hadn't spoken to Edward since the night I left the resort, and he didn't try to contact me. I spoke to Alice a few times; she told me Edward had gone back to Seattle early, and not before promising her with his life that he'd give me a few days to get my head straight. He'd apparently wanted to come after me the moment he found out I'd gone home, and it had taken both Jazz and Alice to almost physically restrain him.
Apart of me wished that he'd come after me and slapped some sense into me. But the other half, the part of me who was still allowing Renee to control my life was glad he didn't. I was reverting back to old habits. Old habits I'd already allowed Edward to witness once before and swore I never would again.
Old habits where my only mode of defence was to push everyone away and bury myself in denial, and that's what I was doing now. I was shutting out Edward, and refusing to accept that I was having his baby.
That night I dreamed about when I was a little girl. It was through an unusual, third person perspective; as if I was watching home movies. I looked to be around five years old, carrying Edward the teddy bear as I ran through long grass in bright sunshine. My hair was long and wild, but unlike my actual childhood, there were no visible bruises over my body, and I was happy and carefree; my soft laughter filling the void of my unconsciousness.
Yet there was something strange about this little girl. Something almost haunting, and it wasn't until she ran closer to the view point of my dream that I realised she wasn't me at all. Her eyes were green; the same shade of green as Edward's.
Edward's eyes that suddenly widened in fear as her entire expression twisted with it.
In the next moment there was darkness, as if I was in that plain between dreaming and awake, when a child's voice suddenly pierced through the silence of my mind.
"Mummy, mummy, help me! I'm dying!"
I was instantly awake, my breath drawing in violently while I clutched at my racing heart.
I glanced around the darkened room desperately, unsure what I was searching for even as I became consumed by panic; by the realisation that something was very wrong.
"Edward!" I called out through jagged breaths, while tears began to flow down my cheeks. I was barely aware of them as the echoes of that terrified, innocent voice slowly faded from my mind.
My heart continued to hammer within my chest, multiplying the fear and panic that was steadily building within me, but I could barely comprehend it.
It was then that I became aware of the pain.
At first it was a dull ache pulsating in tempo with my thudding heart, until it steadily grew into a raw, stabbing pain that caught my breath.
I attempted to get out of bed, but the moment I was upright the pain immediately concentrated. It knocked the wind from my lungs, buckling my legs beneath me. In reflex I cried out before falling to the floor, and wrapping my hands around my abdomen in feeble attempt to dull it.
"Oh, God—Jake!" I tried to call out but I could barely breathe past the burning in my stomach, and my voice almost completely failed me.
The pain was overwhelming and nothing like I had ever experienced before. It was a piercing, cramping sensation that had me instinctively looking down to my legs.
They were covered in blood.
Horrified, I gasped sharply, while my mind was beginning to overrun. What was happening? Was I miscarrying? Was it normal to be in this much pain?
"Edward!" I cried bursting into tears. "Help me—Jake!"
I looked around deliriously for my phone. I needed Edward, but my body felt disjointed, my mind foggy. The pain was blinding and I could barely conceive of anything else.
Somehow, I managed to crawl to the other side of the room, where the wall connected my room to Jake's. I banged on it desperately, weakly, as my vision began to cloud around my periphery.
My memories after became hazy and shrouded by repeated loss of consciousness. What started out as a dream, had turned to a nightmare that I couldn't wake from. I vaguely remember Jake carrying me to his car, before being awakened by a blazing white light above me. And then Carlisle's face, peering down at me with a seriousness reflecting in his eyes.
"Bella, the embryo has ruptured through your right fallopian tube."
A/N: Chapter 1 down...