"Please, Edward. Let's talk more about this," she pleaded, pulling on his shirt sleeve. But he yanked it away and turned from her, gazing outside at the moonlight. "No. I told you I'm done talking. This conversation is done." And he turned and gazed at her with such frigid finality that her lungs almost froze. He moved from the window and brushed past her, looking for his jacket. "I should leave, before I say something I'm going to regret. I find myself doing that with you all too often, Bella." The lump that had formed in her throat was hard and thick. She watched him snag his jacket from the chair by her desk and head toward the door.
No. She wouldn't simply let him leave. She hadn't done anything wrong. She'd had dinner with Jacob to thank him for working on her truck. There was nothing wrong with that. There wasn't even anything wrong with the innocent kiss he'd planted on her cheek. He was young, and smitten with her. She wasn't stupid. But he knew she was with Edward. He knew that her heart was wrapped around him. And he would never push those boundaries. But when she'd walked into her bedroom…and saw him standing there, a beautiful Adonis washed white in the moon's glistening beams…she had known that to Edward, a betrayal had been committed.
She gritted her teeth and then moved forward, catching his wrist. "You have to understand. It was a dinner with friends. He fixed my truck! No one else in this town could have fixed it like he did." She glared at him. "And no, it wouldn't have been simpler to have you buy me a new one." She pulled his wrist until he faced at her, though he still wouldn't meet her eyes. "Edward, he's my friend. Why can't he be my friend? What about that don't you understand? How can I help you to see that he isn't a threat?" Her fingertips fluttered to play with the stiff collar at his neck, but he batted her hands away like an annoying swarm of insects.
His voice was ice – brittle and cold. "He will always be a threat, Bella. You can't hear his thoughts. You don't know what he's thinking about you. And beyond that, his people hate me. And he is so easily swayed. He listens to his Elders with a loyalty that goes beyond man's best friend." He spoke the last words with such dripping sarcasm that she pulled back, wounded from the venom. "For you to go behind my back and have a…" He paused and searched for the right word. When he found it, he spit it at her. "…date with him. I just don't understand how you could do it."
She was trembling with anger and had long ago pulled her fingertips back. Had she not, they might have strangled him…for all the good it would have done. And compared to his, her words were fire. Hot and flashing. "No, I can't hear his thoughts. I'm just the pitiful human who goes by what people tell me. Who TRUSTS people enough to let me know what they're feeling. And if they don't, I let them have their secrets. Rather than intruding on their thoughts like some voyeur." She punched a finger into his chest, choosing not to notice at that moment how perfect his muscles were. "I've told you not to spy on me. I won't have it. I'm done with it."
He shut his eyes, willing himself not to smell the blood as it rushed to her face in anger. The mortal notion of beauty in anger appealed to him then. Because at that moment, she could not have been more beautiful. She was alive and passionate, and she smelled of a lavender field set on fire…the sweet smoke drifted into his nostrils and caused him to go slightly insane. He smacked her hand away, much less gently than before. "Well I WOULD trust you if you wouldn't go off and have dinner dates with people like HIM! Besides. I have to keep an eye on you. How do I know you're not going to trip over yourself and fall into a sewer? Stranger things have happened, Bella," he said, looking down on her sternly.
She gaped at him. Had he really smacked her finger away? It was so…uncontrolled, and so very unlike him. And his words wounded her. Her vision wavered as tears filled her eyes, but she willed them not to fall. How dare he. How dare he choose this moment to ridicule and take advantage of her clumsiness. She didn't need this. She didn't need him. And she most certainly didn't need to feel this way. She lifted her chin and met his horrible gaze. "Get out, Edward." Her words were low, filled with warning. "Get out. We're done. This is done. Get out."
And with those simple words, his anger fell away. His vision cleared. And he realized exactly how awful he'd been acting. …They were done? Had she really said that? He repeated it again in his brain. No. That was simply not possible. They couldn't be 'done.' He and Bella would never be 'done.' It wasn't allowed. It wasn't…no. He took a step toward her and froze as she hissed. He put his hands up in a gesture of peace. And then in a very human-like gesture, he took in a deep, unnecessary breath, and sighed. And he said words that were very hard for him to say. "…You're right, Bella. I…had no right to spy on you. I'm…sorry."
Though his apology shocked her, for he'd given her very few of them, she whirled and went to the window. "No. I don't want to hear it. All you've done tonight is browbeat me into making me understand why I'm the idiot. So fine. YOU are right, Edward. I'm the idiot. You've won. Now leave. I don't want to see your face any more. I don't want to hear your words. I don't care. I'm just…done. This is done." She stared at the moon, willing it to somehow make him disappear into the night so she wouldn't have to fight him any more. Why did she have to love him, when he hurt her so?
He should have left then. Should have walked right out the door. His immortal instincts told him to do such a thing – told him that her humanity was simply too much for him to understand. But with Bella, he had remembered what it was like to be human again. He remembered being hurt. He remembered when every minute – every second – had meant everything. And he knew that both of them could not survive even one without the other. And so he glided effortlessly until he was directly behind her. He reached his hands out and placed them just above her shoulders, letting her know that he was there, but not invading her personal space. And he waited.
They stood there for what seemed like an eternity, with his hands floating just above her…an inch away from touching her soft skin. And many thoughts went through her brain. She knew how difficult it was for him to stand there, not touching her…and his patience broke through her hurt. It washed away her annoyance, and her anger. Slowly, millimeter by millimeter, she lifted her hands and placed them over his…gently pushing them onto her shoulders. And then she leaned back into him, pressing her head back against his chest. The silence stretched into the bedroom, until the only thing she could hear was her own heartbeat. She finally spoke. "Will it always be like this?"
He snaked his lips to trace the skin just below her ear and smiled when she shivered. "Will we always fight?" His hands carefully moved from her shoulders, down her arms, and then rested on her hips. "Probably, Bella. We clash. But if we didn't clash, I wouldn't find you so interesting. And if I didn't find you so interesting, and so damn irresistible, we wouldn't be in this position in the first place." He pressed his mouth to her cheek. "But let's not talk of the mechanics. Let's just…let it be. Let me love you. And apologize when I can. Let me be the possessive boyfriend. And get angry at me for it. Let me be me. And I'll let you be you." He pulled her tight.
She turned in his arms, and the moonlight sparkled across the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. He kissed them away and she smiled. "Alright. But if you ever spy on me when I'm taking a shower with a group of girls, I'm going to permanently maim you. And don't worry. I'll find a way." She laid her hands on his chest and tucked her head under his chin. "…I love you, Edward." His hands tangled in her tresses. "...I know, Bella."