Stephenie Meyer owns them; I love them.
It's been almost a month since Charlie handed me that piece of concrete. Ever since I've known him, Charlie has been a 'by the book' kind of person. There were never any grey areas for him. Always black and white. Right and wrong. Jacob's father was his best friend, almost family. He'd known Jacob since he was an infant and - I have no doubt - thought of Jacob as Bella's 'brother'. Charlie had no idea what Jacob was truly capable of. He was clueless of the things Jacob had done to Bella. That is, until my and Bella's wedding reception. Bella was Charlie's pride and joy. Bella was everything good in a person, and Jacob cut her off at the knees - in front of her father and my family. It was a side of Jacob that only Bella and I had seen until then.
I guess it's true, what they say. If you give someone enough rope, eventually they'll hang themselves with if. Jacob had been given a fuck ton of rope. Judging from the utterly painful shock written on Charlie's face, and the hate rolling off of his body, he'd begun mentally tying the noose that would be the end of Jacob Black.
A few days after Charlie's visit, someone else came to see me. Someone that, in a million years, I never would've expected. Billy Black, Jacob's father. To say that I was surprised would have been an understatement. When I walked into the visitor area and saw him sitting there in his wheel chair, I almost shit my pants. I literally had to fight the urge to turn and walk the other way. I had no idea what Billy wanted or expected. I sure as hell didn't know what to expect from him. The only thing I could think at the time was that he wanted insight into the whereabouts of his son, and he'd come to the wrong person for that.
So, I sat. Eyeballing Billy Black. He stared at me tentatively for no more that a few seconds, and then his eyes went to the floor. I'm not a mind reader, but I had the distinct impression that Billy wasn't looking for a fight. Good thing too, I just didn't have it in me any more. So, with my elbows resting on the table, I folded my hands as if I were praying.
"Hello, Edward." I knew Billy was a proud man, but I had to strain to hear his greeting and his eyes never left the floor. I almost felt bad for him. "Thank you for agreeing to see me." He fidgeted with the arm rests of his chair. He still wouldn't meet my gaze.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Black? I'm sure this isn't a social call." I said, resting my chin on top of my clasped fingers.
"I wanted to come and apologize for Jacob's behavior and actions."
"Jacob's an adult. You aren't responsible for his behavior or his actions." I said casually. I noticed that he didn't use Jacob's name in the past tense. "However I appreciate the sentiment. Apology accepted. If there's nothing else..."
"I know what he did." He met my gaze briefly. "I know everything." His voice lowering to a whisper. I sat up, ram-rod strait.
"Everything as in..." I asked cautiously.
"Everything." He said, looking in my eyes. "What he did to her on her fourteenth birthday, how he treated her - and you, your wedding reception. I know that he killed her." He knew. All of it, and he never said a fucking word. I went from calm to absolutely furious quicker than a Porsche hits sixty. At that moment, it took all of my strength not to walk over to him and smash his skull. Atleast I would've had a legitimate reason to be in this shit hole. At the very least, I had planned on talking on talking to Emmett about his next building.
"Fuck my life." I growled through clenched teeth. "You knew and said nothing. You bastard." I carefully stood and walked over to him. "How could you not say anything? Didn't you give a shit about what happened to Bella?" I raged.
"I'm sorry, Edward." His voice broke. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears. "You have to understand... I loved Bella like she was my own. But Jacob's my son. My flesh and blood! If you had chil..." The room was spinning. I felt as if I were in a vortex that was sucking all of the oxygen out of the room.
"What?! Had children of my own?!" I couldn't breath. I bent over resting my hands on my knees. "Goddammit, Billy! What about Charlie's child, huh? If you knew what Jacob could do, why the fuck didn't you tell someone? We could've protected her." I stood up strait and ran a shaky hand through my hair. I lowered my burning eyes to meet Billy. "And just so you know, any chance I had to have children of my own died with my wife!"
"I'm so sorry, Edward." Billy openly sobbed.
"I think it's time for you to leave, Mr. Black." My voice was shaking. I couldn't wrap my head around what he'd said. My mind was reeling. My legs were shaking so badly, I was barely able to walk.
Billy Black never visited me again.
I made it back to my cell that day, visibly upset. attracting the attention of James, one of the gaurds on death row. He was a nice guy. Of all the gaurds, he was the one I was able to talk to. I didn't bother telling him of my innocence. As far as I was concerned, it was a moot point. But when he saw me, his brows furrowed, silently asking if I was alright. I shook my head and waved casually, stepping back inside my cell. I didn't have the desire or the energy it would take to get into my conversation with Billy. I just wanted to sleep.
That day was the first day in so long that I'd dreamed of her. I had imagined Bella holding a little girl that the two of us had created. But that day, I saw Bella with her. They were so beautiful together, mother and daughter. Both were mine. It was everything I had ever wanted. Bella and our child. They were walking hand in hand with me, and then they were just gone. I was alone.
Telling Billy that my chance at fatherhood died with Bella was the truth. Four days before Jacob killed her, Bella's doctor informed us that she was pregnant. Seven weeks. With the stress of Bella's job, she hadn't even realized she was late. When she started becoming symptomatic, she went to her doctor. Voila! Baby on board. We were waiting to tell our family. They never knew. They still don't. I just couldn't bring myself to tell them. It was all my fault. The night of our dinner, I insisted on getting the wine. It was for me. I lost my wife and child because I wanted some fucking wine. I could've saved them both, if only I hadn't stopped.
That day, death couldn't come soon enough for me.
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