AUTHOR'S NOTE: I couldn't start this chapter without sending a huge 'thank you' to all those that reviewed. I can't tell you what your feedback means to me. I was completely overwhelmed by such a response that I sat down and started to write the next chapter at 8:30 in the morning... so who knows. Overwhelm me again and you'll get faster updates ;)
This chapter is in BPOV.. I know some of you requested that I keep it in EPOV, but I feel like you can't get the whole story in just one point of view. Plus, I don't want you all to see Bella as some weak, martyr-like woman. She has her fight coming, I promise. Just keep reading, and all your questions will be answered, I promise.
As I said before, make sure you listen to the music that accompanies each chapter. It really adds to the whole thing. Enjoy!
CHAPTER TWO - STANDING ON THE EDGEDo you know what it feels like,
Loving someone
That's in a rush to throw you away?
Do you know what it feels like,
To be the last one
To know the lock on the door has changed?
-Do You Know - Enrique Iglesias
BPOV
I hated New York City.
Every morning I left the four-thousand-a-month, ridiculous apartment that Edward insisted on keeping me locked up in to walk to work, surrounded by people just like him. People that I hated. People who kept their lives stored in a briefcase and wandered amongst humanity screaming into the Blackberries they had glued to their ears. People that were in a rush to get the the glossy offices they worked in, just so they could sit couped up in a tiny room thousands of feet above normal human beings and watch life go by them right outside their floor-to-ceiling windows.
New York City was not my home and it never would be, as much as my husband hoped. My home was not where I was surrounded day by day by the people I detested. My home was back in Washington, where I was constantly surrounded instead by lush green nothingness and the select few people I allowed to be in my life. I was a private person, not attracted to the hustle and bustle of a big city that was built upon the ideals that my husband had seemed to embrace in the last few years.
The fact that he insisted I live in it made me sick.
Edward and I had met in high school after I moved to stay with my father following the death of my mother. At first, I hadn't liked him at all- he was far too immersed in his schoolwork, and even when he wasn't he was preoccupied with baseball and his car. Of course, those were all just indications of how he would be when he was faced with rewards much bigger than an A on a term paper and high school popularity, but I didn't know that then. Had I, things may have been different now.
Needless to say, somewhere between writing papers and batting practice Edward developed an interest in me. And, when I saw that there was an actual person beneath the robot-like persona he portrayed, I fell in love with him too. Suddenly he wasn't only focused on getting an A, he was focused on me too. He took me out to dinner, to movies, to all the typical high school dances. He would take me on some of the most romantic dates I could imagine, and the next day be content to sit with me in the library and work on a Biology project.
I couldn't breathe if he wasn't in the room. He brought me peace with just a gentle touch of his hand. My whole world revolved around him. And then it tipped off its axis when he told me he felt the same way. He took me to La Push beach, and while we walked barefoot in the sand, he pointed out trees and shells and creatures I had never even heard of. He gave me scientific names while I had just summed them all up with tree and crab. When I noted how stupid I must seem to him, he tilted my head up with a finger and gently kissed my nose, saying to me, "Not even close, pretty girl. I've just spend all my time memorizing trivial information out of lack for something else to do because I've been waiting my whole life for you."
He would drive me all the way to Seattle and take me on the ferry, just because he knew I liked them. At concerts for the school orchestra, he sat in the front row, tossing a single red rose onto the stage after every song until he presented me with a whole bouquet at the end of the show. When he was on the pitchers mound, and all the little cleat-chasing groupies were swooning over him, he would place his hand to his heart and then blow me a kiss. Of course, that did nothing for me as I had to endure the remaining nine innings with the wrath of the distressed freshmen, but I cared for nothing less. Edward Cullen loved me, and I loved him back. That was the only thing that mattered to me in my entire universe.
We went to UW, still very much entranced by one another. During Christmas break our sophomore year, he drove me back to Forks and took me to my favorite restaurant. Over a dinner of mushroom ravioli, Caesar salad and bread sticks- the same thing we had eaten on our first date- he nervously took my hand and placed a black velvet box in it. "Isabella Swan," he said, his voice shaking for the first time I'd ever heard it. "I loved you from the first minute I saw you, and since then have only fallen more and more in love with you." He grinned sheepishly. "I suspect I will love you for the rest of my life. I promise to do nothing but make you happy and continue to love you forever. Please, do me the honor of becoming my wife."
We were married in August, right before the beginning of our Junior year, at twilight in a small church in Forks. My high school friend Angela's father was the priest that married us. My best friend Alice, Edward's sister, planned the reception that seemed to be straight out of a fairy tale. The honeymoon was full of love and bliss I had never known before. We went to London and when we weren't sight-seeing or eating in the quaint cafes along the Thames, we were in our hotel room making love in ways that left me speechless and without breath.
Of course, all good things come to an end.
We graduated UW and, seemingly right afterward, Edward moved us to New York where he said he had found a job. We moved right into our current apartment and almost as soon as I was settled in, Edward went to work. At first, I thought the late hours were just Edward settling in to a demanding job. Surely as soon as he got the hang of things he would come home to me and we would live like a normal married couple. However, six years after marriage, there were only a handful of times he came home and sat down to dinner with me. Three times for our anniversary, three times for my birthday and once for his. We went out for dinner, once, but even then I had to meet him at the restaurant and he showed up an hour late.
That night had ended in a fight.
When he found out I had applied at several local publishing houses for a job, he flew off the handle. He said he didn't work as hard as he did for fun, and there was no reason that I had to work. When I countered asking what it was he wanted me to do, he shocked me by informing me that my cooking could use a boost and that maybe I should think about taking a class in culinary arts.
There was nothing wrong with my cooking. I knew that and so did he.
That night ended in a fight too.
Pretty soon, I grew tired of waiting around for him in the apartment all day. I walked around until I came to a small diner where I could work part-time as a waitress. When I took the job, I took extra care in making sure he wouldn't find out. He wouldn't be caught dead eating in such a place, and the clientele it served were not likely to have had any contact with him ever. It was the perfect solution.
That took up about half of my day, and so, to use up the other half, I began to play the violin again. I had nearly perfected it in high school, but once I had married Edward I put it away so that I could spend more time with him. Now that he spent all of his time at work, I was allowed to spend all of my time doing other things as well. I joined an orchestra that performed once a month. For some reason or another, the maestro took a particular liking to me, and nearly every performance I had a number of solos. Edward only ever showed up to these performances after I had already played so that no one had an opportunity to hit on me at the reception. The red roses thrown onto the stage were never from him. He was never seated in the front row.
I don't know when I realized he was cheating. I can't say it was one incident when I walked in on him or saw his picture with another woman in the papers. The idea just kind of built up within me and pretty soon, my gut just knew that was what he was doing until three o'clock in the morning. It hurt in the beginning, but I couldn't do anything about it. I was in a strange city and, despite all the heartbreak I endured with him, I just couldn't leave. Besides, even if I tried to, I knew he would put up a fight. He would convince me to stay, one way or another, and in the end, I would. Because, no matter how much we fought and how horribly we treated each other, he was still my husband, and I was still a love-struck teenager at heart. There was always some part of me wanting and hoping that he would come home one day and try to make everything alright again.
That morning though, I had made my decision.
I had had the divorce papers for a while, I just wasn't sure whether I wanted to go through with it or not. This morning though, I had pulled them out from the box on the shelf of my closet, the box that hid the heinous violin Edward had bought me last year, and laid them on the table in the den and signed them. I had meant to put them away and confront him about it later, but I had lost track of time in the midst of my crying and wallowing in self pity, and when I realized that I was going to be late for work, accidentally left them on the table.
It didn't matter though. Edward wouldn't be home til the early hours of the morning and I would have time to put them away after my shift. As I walked along the crowded sidewalk, I decided to put the whole sordid ordeal out of my mind until after work, when I was alone again in that jail cell of a home.
The diner was already packed by the time the bell tingled when I walked in the front door. Victoria, one of my coworkers, raised an eyebrow at me from behind the register as I made my way back toward the kitchen.
"James is pissed," she whispered. I only nodded.
I threw on an apron and hurriedly made my way back out to the dining room. I pulled out my pad and made my way from booth to booth, taking down orders and listening to drink demands. I made quick work of settling down the angry customers that complained about the lazy service and eventually there was order again. The breakfast rush ebbed out by around ten, and I was able to talk to Victoria a bit in between delivering food.
"How mad is he?"
She shrugged. "He was pissed when he realized you weren't here, but I think it's been so busy I don't think he's really had time to think about it."
I sighed. "I've had a shitty morning."
She nodded in sympathy. "You're telling me," she agreed, handing a customer their change. "My dog pissed on my new carpet and my roommate ruined one of my dresses on her date last night."
Yeah, well my husband called me a frigid whore and I'm ending my marriage.
I walked away after that, checking on a few of the regulars, filling coffee cups and replacing dishes of butter and jelly. The bell at the front rang as a group of girls walked in, and for a moment, I grew extremely envious. The girl in the middle looked like me; long brown hair, heart-shaped face, pale. Only she had freckles. She was surrounded by a group of girls, her friends presumably, that were chatting animatedly about something. Congratulating her. She looked up at me, smiled, and then they took a seat in a booth near the counter.
"Hi, can I get you anything to drink?"
They rattled off a list of drinks and I left them to look through the menu as I went to the back to fill their orders. I watched them from behind the counter, reminiscing on times when I went out for breakfast with my friends. At one point, I had been able to laugh that way, carefree and light. I had looked like that girl once, too. She just couldn't get the grin to fade from her eyes and seemed to be radiating happiness from somewhere within her.
As I made my way back to their table, I realized what their topic of conversation was.
"He was just so... amazing. He wasn't like all the other guys there. He was so beautiful and when he came over to talk to me, I literally swooned on the spot. I mean, he had this hair... it was coppery but still really dark and looked like he had just gotten out of bed or something. It was gorgeous."
"How did he get you to leave with him?" one of her friends asked.
The girl giggled. "Well it wouldn't have been that hard. He had me at 'hello.'"
Slut.
"Well then... what happened after you left together?"
I placed their drinks on the table. "Are you ready to order?"
"Can I just have the granola and a half a grapefruit?"
Internally, I rolled my eyes but calmly wrote down what they ordered. They may as well have stayed home, because they ordered everything they could have gotten from their refrigerators. Fruit and granola and yogurt and biscuits. As I walked away, they picked up with their conversation.
"He took me to this really nice hotel..."
I tried not to pay them any attention, but what she had said about copper hair bugged me. Every time I passed by their table, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end and I found I checked on their table and the tables around them much more frequently than I needed to. But eventually, I heard the part that I needed.
"He was just so... ugh, I can't even describe it. He was so good. He didn't make me try anything I didn't want to and was so gentle and..."
"What was his name?"
She paused as if in thought. "Edward? I think?"
My heart froze and my blood ran cold. I had never been able to put a face to a girl that had been with him before. But she confirmed my suspicions of over two years, and that confirmation nearly broke me in two. The only thing that kept me from falling to the floor was the bell that rang from the kitchen, signaling an order was ready for pick-up. I made my way numbly toward the back and my hands shook as I picked up the tray of food. I delivered it to the table, trying as hard as I could to keep my face calm and passive.
Really all I wanted to do was cry.
As I was walking back toward the kitchen to pick up another order, a popular song came onto the speakers, and since it was quiet enough, I was able to hear the lyrics. They made me cringe.
Maybe if I knew all the things it took to save us,
I could fix the pain that bleeds inside of me.
Look in your eyes 'til I see something about me,
I'm standing on the edge and I don't know what else to give.
I sighed and shifted on my feet. The weight my position, and seeing a woman my husband had slept with, and of the choice I had made that morning settled on my shoulders and it put an immense pressure on my heart. I felt tears welling up in my eyes, and quickly placed the food down on the counter and hastily made my way to the exit behind the kitchen. It led to an alley, and again, the thought of being alone in silence was more welcoming than being surrounded by the demanding people in the diner.
Standing outside, I wrapped my arms around myself and finally gave in to what I had been fighting all morning. I leaned against the brick wall and let out the sob that had built up in my throat. The hot tears seeped from my eyes and ran down my face, burning my cheeks as they went. My shoulders heaved as my lungs struggled to find breath; I was crying so hard I couldn't breathe. I sank to the ground, burying my face in my knees and wrapping my arms around them.
Suddenly, I felt a comforting hand on my shoulder and, surprised, I threw my head up, cracking it against the wall behind me. This made me sob harder.
James sat next to me on the ground, clutching a cigarette between his lips as he tried to light it one-handed while he continued to rub my back. He had shed his chef's apron, and sitting next to me in his Pink Floyd t-shirt and jeans, he seemed just like a regular guy. "Talk to me."
"I... I..."
"Sssh," he said. "Just go slow. Breathe."
And so I did. I told him all about the last three years in a torrent of words and tears that I'm sure were incoherent to him. All the while he just sat there, rubbing his soft hand over my back in soothing circles and encouraging me to take my time. Finally, after I said all I could, I collapsed in a fit of hysterics, the pain in my heart releasing itself into more tears. He threw his cigarette under his shoe and stubbed it out, and then spoke.
"Bella, you listen to me right now."
I said nothing.
"I've sat here for at least five minutes, listening to you go on and on about how you're not good enough and how you can't make him happy. But from where I'm sitting, I think he's the one that's not making you happy. You are a hot, intelligent girl that doesn't deserve that pussy of a man at all. I don't know why you can't see that, but I think it's about time you start."
The next few seconds were a blur, but his mouth was on mine and I couldn't find the will to protest. The hand that wasn't on my back reached around and cupped my chin, angling it up so his tongue could stab into my mouth. And then I was being lifted up, my legs forced around his waist and my back crushed up against the brick wall. My fingers were in his hair and his hands gripped my rib cage, hard enough to convey his urgency but not enough to hurt me. He thrust his pelvis against my hips, and for a moment, I thought about saying no. But then Edward's words came back to me.
You know, for someone so desperate to be loved, you sure don't put out a lot.
My soul left my body and hovered in the corner, watching in shame. I disconnected from my body. My hands reached down numbly for the buttons on his jeans and fumbled in their haste to undo them. He palmed my breasts roughly, all trace of comfort gone as he tore through my clothing. He yanked my jeans down my hips while he ran his tongue over my neck, shoved my plain cotton underwear to the side and roughly shoved two fingers into me. My back arched off the wall, for it was the first time I had received sexual gratification in nearly three months, as wrong as it was.
His fingers pumped in and out of me, his palm roughly grinding against my clit. I couldn't stop the moans that came from my lips, the moans that no one but my husband had ever heard before.
"That's right, baby, moan for me," he rasped in my ear as he began to thrust against my stomach. I couldn't help it. I began to thrust back.
I pulled his shirt from his back and dropped it to the floor, running my hands over his chest. He had a tattoo of a crudely drawn woman over his left breast, with a waist the same size as one of her thighs and nipples nearly as big as her mouth. He didn't have the same figure Edward did; while Edward maintained a modest set of abdominal muscles, James was cut in ways that seemed to only be possible if they were airbrushed on. His chest was smooth and without a trace of hair. His right nipple was pierced. As he began to suck on my neck, my fingers gripped his back, my nails raking over the skin. He hissed as they cut through his back, but that only made him suck and thrust harder.
Somehow, he managed to get his jeans down around his knees, and in one quick movement he thrust himself inside me, burying himself to the hilt. I was both surprised and hurt by his quick, deep movement, and I screamed out. Edward had always been gentle in the beginning, even if he was caught up in the moment. But this wasn't Edward. This was a different man and I couldn't expect him to be the same lover as my husband. This man was just looking for quick release, whether he cared about me or not, and I had to come to terms with that.
So, when he began to impale me with his thrusts, the only thing I could do was meet him move for move and pray that this was the roughest he was going to get.
He growled in my ear, things I had only heard on my honeymoon. "You are so sexy," he rasped. "So fucking hot. I could pound you for hours."
I whimpered.
It was both heaven and hell. As much as I was thankful that I was finally being paid attention to, this man wasn't my husband. It didn't matter that he thought I was smart and attractive. He wasn't the one I wanted that approval from. As his thrusts picked up in pace, I realized just how wrong this was. The tears began to flow again, and this time I didn't try to stop them. His thrusting was quickly approaching painful, and the cries that came from my eyes now were both a mixture of heartbreak and pain. I raised my fist to my mouth and bit down on my knuckles to quiet my sobs.
And then it was over. He came fast and hard, filling me with hot spurts that didn't belong there. He slid out of me, gently slid me to the floor and without a word pulled up his pants and put his t-shirt back on. He leaned forward, kissed me once and turned to go back into the kitchen. Over his shoulder, he called, "You can have the rest of the day off, if you want."
I felt like a whore.
I pulled my pants up with shaking hands, the reality of the situation sinking in. I had just cheated on my husband... in an alley. I had thought of cheating on him before; I knew I would enjoy the momentary feeling of revenge and that I would make myself feel better by making him feel a little of the hurt I had been feeling for years. But in the end I could never bring myself to do it. I wasn't that kind of person and never thought I would sink to the level of cheating on Edward just to get back at him.
I was still crying when I re-entered the diner. I hung my apron on the hook near the door, pocketed the meager amount of tip change from the pockets and threw my messenger bag over my shoulder. Without looking anyone in the eye, I left through the front door, ignoring Victoria who called after me.
"Bella! Where are you going?"
Hugging myself, I walked back up the street toward my apartment. Contrary to that morning, though I was surrounded by people, I felt completely alone. Luckily, if anyone noticed I was crying, they didn't say anything. I felt a vibration in my pocket and pulled my phone out. It was Alice.
Silencing the call, I picked up my pace and tried to telepathically urge the mob I was walking amongst to move faster. All I wanted to do was get home, shower and go to bed. I didn't want to be surrounded by people anymore. Who knew? The girl walking right next to me could have slept with Edward too. Was she married? Did her husband know what she was doing?
Finally I reached the apartment complex and, plastering a fake smile on my face, said hello to Walt the doorman.
"What's troubling you, sweetheart?" he asked as he held the door open to me.
"Oh, nothing," I lied. "Just a hard day at work."
"I know what you mean!" he called cheerfully to me as he waved to someone walking past him. They barely acknowledged him.
I only wish you did, I thought to myself.
Jerry the bellhop noticed there was something wrong too, but I merely gave him the same answer as I did Walt. The ride in the elevator was tense and uncomfortable as I hoped he wouldn't push me to really find out what was wrong. The numbers clicked by as we rose higher and higher, the thick air suffocating me and the corny, cliche music making me itch to get out. I could have kissed him when we finally reached my floor, but settled for subtly waving to him instead.
And then I was home.
I let myself in, not surprised by the cold, empty feeling of the apartment. I dumped my bag on the floor by the door and walked to the bathroom. Running the shower, I stripped quickly and stood under the steaming stream, not just content with the thought of scrubbing the day away.
I wanted to burn it off.
My skin quickly turned an angry red but I did not move from under the spray. I grabbed a loofah from the soap rack, squirted a generous amount of soap on it and commenced the rubbing. I rubbed my skin so hard that pretty soon it was not only burned but raw as well. For the thousandth time that day I found myself crying, but I took no notice as the tears blended in with the water. I was there scrubbing for at least an hour, and when I finally began to feel the pain and the hot water slowly began to turn cold, I sat down on the tile and continued to cry.
At some point, between my skin turning into a giant prune and the water turning icy, I decided I had to get out. I shut the water off, wrapped myself in a towel and went into the bedroom. The bed was stiffly made as it hadn't been slept in for a few nights.
Just one more reminder of my failed marriage.
I threw on the first clothes I could find and curled up on a ball in my bed. I don't know how long I was like that, but as the sky began to darken outside my window, I heard a buzzing on the floor. Realizing it was my cell phone, I dug threw the pockets and pulled it out.
Alice again.
"Hello?"
"Bella, thank God. I was beginning to think something happened to you."
"Alice, you called once. I was at work."
She sucked in a breath. "Bella, I've called you like twelve times."
Oops.
"Sorry, I was in the shower."
"For two hours?"
I sighed, hoping to avoid that subject. "What's up?"
"Well, my parent's were talking about you two the other day. They said they hadn't heard from you in a while."
"Yeah, we've been pretty busy."
"I could tell. Esme recorded your last performance on TV. It looked so hard, Bella. You must have practiced for hours."
Well, when you're husband would rather sleep with random women he meets at a bar than you, there's really nothing else to do.
"Yes, it was a lot of work."
"Well you need a break. Come back to Washington for Christmas."
I sighed again. "You'll have to talk to your brother about that, Alice. He's the one that controls the schedule."
"He hasn't been answering his phone. Put him on."
I hesitated. "He's not home, Alice."
She seemed confused. "Bella, it's almost eight."
I could have ratted him out. I could have told her that he wasn't home right now because he was probably at work. I could have told her about he didn't come home every night because he was too busy talking to foreigners on the phone or sleeping with women he didn't know. But I didn't.
"He said something about an important meeting tonight."
This satisfied her. "Well when he gets home, make sure you talk to him about it. I haven't seen you in a really long time and I have some important things to tell you."
"Alright Alice, I will. I'll talk to you soon."
I hung up and decided I needed to go out. I slipped on my tennis shoes and hurried down to the lobby.
As I crossed the street my mind went back to my conversation with Alice. She had said she needed to tell me something important. In Alice's mind, that meant she had designed a new line for her clothing brand. Or had run into Heidi Klum at some boutique in Milan. While it wasn't necessarily pressing information, it was important to her and for some reason, I was intrigued. Alice was my best friend and I hadn't seen her in at least two years, and so much had happened in that time. Well, at least on her end anyway. I had seen her on the covers of magazines and in the society pages of newspapers. I'd watched a few of her interviews on Oprah and the Today Show. She was the latest big thing and I was forced to watch her success through a TV screen.
I was so immersed in my thoughts that I barely registered what was going on. Someone shrieked, and a man yelled, "Stop him!"
There was a commotion to my left and by the time I looked up I was being shoved out of the way. Already being on the edge of the sidewalk, I was pushed out onto the street and then the rest was a blur.
Something far away, a taxi presumably, honked loudly. I heard a squeal, a pop, and a crunch. Then I was flying. The wind was blowing through my hair and I wanted to laugh at the funny feeling. My hair was tickling my face. And then my flight was abruptly ended as I collided with something hard. More crunching sounds. My head hit something hard and gravelly. There was something warm and wet beneath me that smelled like rust. I was drifting. Water came down over me and I sank, deeper and deeper, away from all light and sound. My vision was hazy. And then the dark descended and pressed me down deeper.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Again, I hope you all like it. If there is something you'd like to see in the story, feel free to let me know. I hope this clears up a lot of questions and brings up new ones. Thank you so much for your reviews, they keep my mind churning. Next update to come soon!