23. THE TRUTH
Charlie watched me from the doorway as I walked back to Carlisle's car, his eyes never leaving me. Was it merely his intense hatred and distrust, or was Charlie more observant than he had been before? His paternal instincts were really kicking into gear with my return. From the look on his face, I was certain that he knew exactly what I planned to do if he let me walk free. In his head he clung to his intense determination to keep me away.
I slipped into the back seat behind Rosalie, nodded slightly, and Emmett took off without a word. We were around the corner in a second. The moment we were out of sight I reached for the door handle.
"Let me out," I said. Emmett looked at me with a confused expression. Rosalie remained silent.
"Why?" he asked. "You can't go back in there. Charlie will try and kill you." He laughed at his mental picture of that. "Besides, she's just going to be sleeping anyways. Nothing interesting there."
"I'm not leaving her." It wasn't as though I really needed him to slow down anyways. I could leap out with the same ease at fifty miles per hour as at two.
Whatever, he thought as he pulled the car over. It's your call. "Just don't get caught, ok? We don't want any trouble with the local police."
I rolled my eyes and slid out of the car.
We'll be waiting for you back at the house, Rosalie told me.
I nodded dismissively and dashed back to hide in the trees that bordered Bella's house. I could still hear Charlie fuming inside, pacing back and forth, and trying to decide what to do. His thoughts were jumbled and worried, but I was glad to see that his relief at having Bella back was quickly calming him. It only took a couple of minutes for him to decide that he was under enough control to check in on her without waking her and demanding answers.
He moved up the stairs, into her room silently, and knelt by her bed. I could see his pained expression clearly through her window as he worried over her sleeping form. I strained my extra sense to try and distinguish his thoughts, but I was only able to catch a note of concern. I had a feeling that this had been a fairly common thought for him since I had left and I felt slightly guilty for how I had hurt him as well.
Charlie was a good father to Bella. Perhaps a little unobservant at times, but he loved her. Even long before this latest, most disastrous, mistake of mine I saw that he would do anything to protect her. It was with regret that I realized when I had hurt Bella, I had hurt Charlie too.
Once again, Charlie's mind began filtering through memories of Bella, perhaps worrying about some sort of relapse. He was obviously terrified that my presence, and ultimately the potential for another departure, would make matters worse.
I jumped, startled, when I heard screams. I just barely managed to catch myself from giving over to instinct and leaping into the room. It was with some confusion- and horror- that I realized that the screams were Bella's. It took another brief moment for me to realize that she was still sleeping soundly, not making a sound. She wasn't even talking. I didn't know if I was relieved or horrified to note that the sounds were in Charlie's mind. There were so many memories of screams, every night it seemed, and I heard all of them flash by through the filter of his desperate worry. I couldn't distinguish much else, but it wasn't difficult to guess what it all meant.
Nightmares. Kneeling next to her bed, Charlie was worrying about nightmares. He stroked her hair, apprehensive that the moment he turned away she would wake up screaming again. I began to worry the same. Even sleeping, Bella didn't quite look peaceful, just calm. There was some sort of anxiety to her face and the way her body was curled up. Charlie knew this broken Bella better than I did and his worry made me worry. Would she sleep through the night?
He stayed there, in her room, for at least an hour, contemplating. He spent some time looking around the room, trying to find some sort of outlet for his nervous energy. I noted with curiosity that there was an unusual lack of cleaning necessary. It seemed strange. Bella had always been a little lazy with her room.
After picking up a couple of shirts that had been tossed from a drawer, he moved to the rocking chair that I used to occupy so often, and watched his child as she slept. I noted briefly at how familiar his actions felt and I was filled with an intense gratitude. Even if nature had not equipped him to fight Bella's pull for any and all things dangerous, he was determined to try. As helpless as he might feel sometimes, as he did now, he did his best to keep her safe and whole. It was a task that I had stupidly relinquished. He sat in her rocking chair as her protector and took up my job of watching over Bella as she slept. I wondered at how often he had done this recently, with a suspicion that it was not the first time.
He eventually came to the conclusion that she would not wake, screaming, any time soon, and with a last worried look he made his way back downstairs. He turned on the television to distract himself and began to try his best to watch. His mind kept flicking upstairs, but he remained where he was, staring at the television absently. When I was certain that he had settled in I leapt lightly from my tree to Bella's window and climbed through. The creaky window made a little noise from disuse as I opened it.
The room was both the same and different than I remembered it. From inside I had a better view of its uncharacteristic qualities. Everything was in its place, but almost eerily so. It felt too clean, like it hadn't been lived it. I was sad to note that what was left of her CD collection appeared to not have been touched in a while. Bella's books, usually strewn in different states of disarray, were all lined up neatly on her bookshelf. Had she stopped reading? Her floor was clear and everything looked as though it hadn't been touched for months.
I tried to reconcile these observations in my mind. Maybe this new Bella had suddenly developed a devotion to tidiness. Maybe she'd gone to visit her mom recently in Phoenix and Charlie had cleaned. This didn't mean anything. I was overreacting again. The simplest solution is always the best. Occam's razor. Never mind that her shelves were covered in dust or that her CD player had been moved out of reach to make room for school books. There had to be another explanation.
As an excuse it was pathetic and I couldn't make myself believe it.
I moved silently to her side and took a moment to simply look at her. She looked almost the same as she had when I had placed her here and pulled the blankets around her shoulders. She had twisted them a bit in her sleep and I pulled them up around her again. She still looked uneasy, but I could see that she was much recovered from what she had been before. And she certainly looked better than she had in Alice or Charlie's memories. I brushed her hair from her face lightly.
At my touch, she unconsciously scooted toward me in her sleep.
"Edward," she mumbled.
It was a strange feeling. After so many nights of listening to her say my name, and then so many nights not, I felt like my heart might just start beating again. I let my hand cup the air around her face, not wanting to wake her with an actual icy touch. It came within a fraction of her skin.
"Bella," I whispered back to her.
She tossed and turned quite a bit throughout the afternoon; more than normal. Occasionally Charlie would come by to check on her and I would hide myself until he was gone. Emmett would have laughed endlessly to know that I had stooped to hiding in a closet. But, then again, he was probably already laughing at me for sitting and watching Bella while she slept. It wouldn't be the first time.
When I wasn't hiding I was settled in the rocking chair as usual, and I watched her anxiously as she mumbled and talked. Mostly she mentioned Italy and I could picture the recreations her mind was making. My conscience ached guiltily with the knowledge that she was reliving the horrors I had hoped to spare her from.
At one point, just after Charlie had said a final "goodnight", she began thrashing at the sheets. It was so violent that I was afraid that she might start the screaming from Charlie's memories and I sat up, suddenly alert. But she only curled up and whimpered.
"Stop!" she cried into her pillow. "Please, don't!"
It was then that I moved from the rocking chair to lie next to her on the bed. If she were to wake up screaming, I would be there to comfort her. It felt like so long since I had seen her smile.
As it was, I was overjoyed to be so close to her. She would periodically say my name and, as though she knew that I was there, she would inch closer to me. By the time Charlie was asleep I had my arms wrapped around her. After that her dreams seemed to settle down.
It was somewhere in the middle of the night that I felt her begin to stir awake. She adjusted a couple times and let out a deep, somber sigh. I brushed my hand across her forehead in an attempt to wake her gently.
She tensed and a frown crossed her face. For some reason she seemed reluctant to wake up. I wished her consciousness would move faster. I was eager to be with her when she wasn't in life-threatening danger or passed out from exhaustion, but it seemed that any attempt I made to speed things along might not be met with success.
So I waited anxiously as she slowly opened her eyes. She immediately snapped them back shut with a startled "oh". Her brow furrowed for a moment and then her surprise passed. She reopened her eyes with a set determination.
"Did I frighten you?" I asked, worried. I couldn't imagine it being a good feeling, waking up with a vampire inches from your face. Oops.
She only smiled at me. She looked so content, and for a moment, I didn't worry at all. For a moment, it felt like things might go back to the way they were.
And then her brows furrowed again and she looked confused, then shocked.
"Oh, crap," she said. I grew worried again. She was safe at home. What did she have to be upset about? I thought she had only been startled by my presence, but this was clearly something deeper. Was she worried about me being here? Did she want me gone?
"What's wrong, Bella?" I asked.
An excess of emotions flickered across her face.
"I'm dead, right?" she moaned, not really asking me. "I did drown. Crap, crap, crap! This is gonna kill Charlie."
She thought she was dead? That didn't make sense at all. In what way did her afterlife involve a thirsty vampire and Forks, Washington? If she were dead they would be showering her in feathers. Maybe bubbles too. But definitely not a meeting in the middle of the night with the vampire who broke her heart.
"You're not dead," I said.
"Then why am I not waking up?"
"You are awake, Bella."
She shook her head disbelieving. She was being especially stubborn tonight.
"Sure, sure," she said dismissively. "That's what you want me to think. And then it will be worse when I do wake up. If I wake up, which I won't, because I'm dead. This is awful. Poor Charlie. And Renée and Jake…" Her face was horrified. Was this the nightmare that Charlie had been waiting for? Would she start screaming when she realized she was awake?
"I can see where you might confuse me with a nightmare," I said, with a humorless smile. "But I can't imagine what you could have done to wind up in hell. Did you commit many murders while I was away?" I tried to hide my pain with joking. It was best to keep the mood light.
"Obviously not. If I was in hell, you wouldn't be with me."
I sighed, frustrated with her. Were we really going to have this argument again? I'd forgotten how stubborn Bella was about this issue in particular. My soul. Apparently she was still determined to think that I had one, though why she did baffled me. If I had had a soul in the first place, it most certainly would have been condemned when I'd left her.
Bella began to look around her quickly, like a frightened animal taking in its surroundings and realizing that the lion in the bushes was merely a rabbit. Her face softened for a moment and her eyes locked back on mine.
"Did all of that really happen, then?"
She had been dreaming for a while, and it was difficult to answer her without knowing what "that" was. Judging by the way she had thrashed in her sleep, I had to be careful with my answer. I didn't want to end up confirming the wrong thing. It was all nightmarish, but I didn't want to burden her with more than was necessary.
"That depends," I answered cautiously. "If you're referring to us nearly being massacred in Italy, then, yes."
"How strange," she said. Her expression was lighter now. Almost dream-like. "I really went to Italy. Did you know I'd never been farther east than Albuquerque?"
I rolled my eyes at the typical Bella response. She was not thinking straight at all. I had just confirmed her suspicions that she'd nearly been killed by a coven of vicious vampires and she'd rather talk about her travel experience. She was no doubt about to lament not being able to see more museums. "Maybe you should go back to sleep. You're not coherent."
"I'm not tired anymore." I was tempted to believe her. She looked awake enough. "What time is it? How long have I been sleeping?"
"It's just after one in the morning. So, about fourteen hours."
She stretched out in front of me, and I couldn't help but notice her lines. It was just one more part of what I had missed. The pale slope of her neck looked so delicate next to her dark blue tee shirt. I fought the urge to brush my hand along it.
"Charlie?" she asked, breaking into my rather poorly timed thoughts.
I frowned at the reminder of her father who would probably bring out his gun if he knew where I was. I didn't care to imagine what would have happened if he had been able to hear my thoughts at the moment.
"Sleeping," I explained. "You should probably know that I'm breaking the rules right now. Well, not technically, since he said I was never to walk through his door again, and I came in the window….But, still, the intent was clear."
"Charlie banned you from the house?" she demanded in a shocked fury. She looked like she was about ready to march into his room and give him a piece of her mind. I was surprised that she had missed the obvious. Of course he banned me. I didn't deserve to be anywhere near her. It was purely my own selfishness, under the disguise of concern for her well being, which brought me here.
"Did you expect anything else?"
Bella looked like she very much did expect something else. She didn't like to be controlled, and she wasn't used to Charlie telling her what to do. Even if, in this case, he might be right. She took a deep breath and shook her head. She made an effort to relax and turned to me.
I'd forgotten how endearing I found her when she was angry.
"What's the story?" she asked when the anger had passed.
"What do you mean?" What she asking for an excuse for my behavior? I certainly owed her some sort of explanation.
"What am I telling Charlie? What's my excuse for disappearing for…how long was I gone, anyway?" She contemplated for a moment.
I smiled in relief at the direction of her thoughts. Very casual. That was good.
"Just three days. Actually, I was hoping you might have a good explanation. I've got nothing." I was glad that I could manage casual too, with the myriad of thoughts in my head trying to figure out if she wanted me to leave or explain or kiss her. My vote was for the later, but I doubted it mattered. Now was not the time.
"Fabulous," Bella said, sarcastically.
"Well, maybe Alice will come up with something."
She nodded and gave a small smile. I felt warmth spread through me at the sight. We sat without speaking for a few moments. Bella broke the silence first, her human instincts feeling uncomfortable without conversation. I was content to simply stare at her. And I was also, admittedly, a little reluctant to broach any of the deeper subjects that I could sense coming.
"So," she said, still attempting for casual. "What have you been doing, up until three days ago?" The words themselves were simple. It sounded like something she might ask one of her school friends after a long vacation. It was the answer that was complex. Of course she had to pick the most loaded question first.
"Nothing terribly exciting," I responded, avoiding a real response. I was reluctant to admit my doings to her. My actions while I was away were just another example of how I had failed her. Not only had I left her alone, without protection, but I had let the greatest danger to her slip out of my grasp. With Victoria gone, I had been left alone with my misery; a total failure.
"Of course not," Bella grumbled. She looked disappointed. Her lips pouted slightly.
"Why are you making that face?"
"Well…" she considered her words. "If you were, after all, just a dream, that's exactly the kind of thing you would say. My imagination must be used up."
I sighed. It didn't look like there was any getting around this. I briefly wondered if her disbelief was all an act to pull answers from me. Apparently it was working.
"If I tell you," I bargained "will you finally believe that you're not having a nightmare?"
"Nightmare!" she scoffed. She sounded disbelieving. I agreed with her. Nightmare didn't seem to cover it. The word seemed too…petty. Nowhere near enough to cover what I must be to her.
Bella was quiet as she thought for a moment.
"Maybe," she said skeptically. "If you tell me."
She wasn't going to be pinned down to a response, and I supposed I should give her that. Not matter how unwilling I was to give it, she deserved the truth. I thought of the best way to phrase it.
"I was…hunting," I managed.
My answer obviously did not please her.
"Is that the best you can do?" she huffed. "The definitely doesn't prove I'm awake."
Truth, Edward. Tell her the truth.
"I wasn't hunting for food…I was actually trying my hand at…tracking. I'm not very good at it," I finished lamely. She had searched for so long for something that I wasn't good at, and there were plenty that I kept hidden well enough. Of course it would end up being something this critical that I finally had to admit to her. Sorry Bella. I'm no good at protecting you. I can play the piano and cook you food. Apparently I can even kiss well. But I can't really keep you alive. Hope you don't mind.
She didn't look as disappointed as I expected. Only intrigued. "What were you tracking?"
"Nothing of consequence." I gave into fear at the last minute and brushed off her question.
"I don't understand."
Truth. Victoria. That's all I needed to say. It was a simple answer. I was tracking Victoria. But I had so much more to atone for, and that wasn't simple. Bella shouldn't have to drag these answers out of me. If I stayed silent long enough, she might even give up, and that was incredibly unfair to her. "I-" I choked on the words.
Tell her. Let it out. I took a deep breath and tried again, forcing the words out all at once.
"I owe you and apology. No, of course I owe you much, much more than that. But you have to know that I had no idea. I didn't realize the mess I was leaving behind. I thought it was safe for you here. So safe. I had no idea that Victoria"–I fought the snarl her name brought to my lips–"would come back. I'll admit, when I saw her that one time, I was paying much more attention to James's thoughts. But I just didn't see that she had this kind of response in her. That she even had such a tie to him. I think I realize why now- she was so sure of him, the thought of him failing never occurred to her. It was her overconfidence that clouded her feelings about him- that kept me from seeing the depth of them, the bond there.
"Not that there's any excuse for what I left you to face. When I heard what you told Alice- when I realized that you had to put your life in the hands of werewolves, immature, volatile, the worst thing out there besides Victoria herself-" I paused, fighting the waves of pain as I thought of the danger that had surrounded Bella on every side. I could only hope this explanation was enough to make her not hate me. Would my dumb, blind, ignorance earn her forgiveness? I would even take her pity if that was all that she had to give. I continued as the pain built. "Please know that I had no idea of any of this. I feel sick, sick to my core, even now, when I can see and feel you safe in my arms. I am the most miserable excuse for-"
"Stop," Bella interrupted. The pain had built to such a force that I didn't think I could speak again, now that I had stopped. All I could do was wait in agonized silence until Bella told me that she'd heard enough. I could sense how pivotal this moment was. Any second she would tell me what I had been both expecting and dreading since Italy. Any moment she was going to tell me 'no'. I didn't even allow myself to hope for another outcome. I simply waited.
I could see a glimmer of pain in her eyes as she struggled to find to right way to put it. I knew she didn't want to, and it was horrible of me to force her to, but I didn't have another choice. Unless I heard her say it, I couldn't bring myself to leave again. At this point the only thing that could ever make me leave was if it was her decision.
Her face was smooth and passive, completely detached. The only emotion I could find was in her eyes and the guilt that seeped through them.
"Edward," she began. "This has to stop now."–my heart wrenched to hear the words–"You can't think about things that way. You can't let this…this guilt…rule your life. You can't take responsibility for the things that happen to me here. None of it is your fault, it's just part of how life is for me. So, if I trip in front of a bus or whatever it is next time, you have to realize that it's not your job to take the blame. You can't just go running off to Italy because you feel bad that you didn't save me. Even if I had jumped off that cliff to die, that would have been my choice, and not your fault. I know it's your…your nature to shoulder the blame for everything, but you really can't let that make you go to such extremes! It's very irresponsible–think of Esme and Carlisle and–" She broke off, struggling not to cry.
I was left in absolute shock.
That was what she thought? As she spoke, my stomach began to churn and my face became a strange mix of emotions: surprise, horror, sadness, anger. All my fears of rejection were gone for a moment as I took in Bella's words. As though guilt had anything to do with my request of the Volturi. What did she think of me? She went through everything in Italy with a misconception that huge? I knew I shouldn't be angry about it, but she had just taken all of my feelings for her and cast them aside, as if they didn't exist. She said it as though my past seven months of complete, agonizing torture were nothing, as if my joy at being with her now didn't exist.
"Isabella Marie Swan," I said quietly. I made my voice as intense as I could, making sure she heard every word. "Do you believe that I asked the Volturi to kill me because I felt guilty?"
She stared at me with a blank face. "Didn't you?"
"Feel guilty? Intensely so. More than you can comprehend."
"Then…what are you saying? I don't understand." Obviously not.
I locked my eyes with hers as though I could stare the truth into her through them. This was one truth that I was not afraid to tell her. The only reason I hadn't mentioned it before was because I had thought that it was a given. A universal truth that could not be denied. Yet somehow she was denying it, and that needed to be corrected, immediately.
"Bella," I said. "I went to the Volturi because I thought you were dead. Even if I'd hand no hand in your death"–I cringed away from the word–"even if it wasn't my fault, I would have gone to Italy. Obviously, I should have been more careful–I should have spoken to Alice directly, rather than accepting it secondhand from Rosalie. But, really, what was I supposed to think when the boy said Charlie was at the funeral? What are the odds?"
It seemed like everything had gone wrong. Every possible dilemma and near-miss. It was so unlikely that it was practically Shakespearean. Like Romeo and Juliet. Every conceivable misunderstanding. I was tempted to believe that someone out there was orchestrating it all, and we were merely pawns in the tragedy. And it had been that way since the beginning.
What were the odds that the one girl with blood I couldn't resist would be the one girl I could never bring myself to kill? What were the odds that the one time I finally did something unselfish it would turn out to be the biggest mistake of my life? What were the odds that a vampire coven leaving Bella would put her in even more danger than before?
"The odds…" I muttered again. "The odds are always stacked against us. Mistake after mistake. I'll never criticize Romeo again."
"But I still don't understand," she said. "That's my whole point. So what?"
I stared in disbelief. "Excuse me?"
"So what if I was dead?"
If she was dead then so was I. I had told her that. I know I had. She was every part of me. When we were separated I was merely broken, but with her -I struggled to face the word- dead, I was nothing. I was destroyed. The broken pieces didn't even exist.
"Don't you remember anything I told you before?" I asked.
"I remember everything that you told me," she replied. I noted the bitterness to her words. I brushed my hand along her lip. Did she really need to hear it again? I had told her so many times before. She was everything.
My mind flashed to a memory of us in the forest near her house. She was crying, and I was doing everything in my power to tear myself away from her. I was braced for an onslaught of tears and pleading, but instead she had let me go without a fight. The old wound burned.
She had let me go without a fight.
"Bella, you seem to be under a misapprehension." I shook my head, remembering the rush of pain as she let me walk away. Apparently she needed it spelled out for her. "I thought I'd explained it clearly before. Bella, I can't live in a world where you don't exist."
"I am…confused," she said.
"I am a good liar, Bella, I have to be."
She gasped, and a look of shock shot across her face. I quickly realized how she had misconstrued my words. She was completely wrong, once again. I shook her shoulder in frustration, trying to ease her rigid posture. She had turned to stone and didn't seem ready to let me explain.
"Let me finish!" I said. "I'm a good liar, but still, for you to believe me so quickly. That was…excruciating." I couldn't hide the pain on my face at the memory. "When we were in the forest, when I was telling you goodbye- You weren't going to let go. I could see that. I didn't want to do it–it felt like it would kill me to do it–but I knew that if I couldn't convince you that I didn't love you anymore, it would just take you that much longer to get on with your life. I hoped that, if you thought I'd moved on, so would you."
"A clean break," she whispered, repeating my words from that day.
"Exactly. But I never imagined it would be so easy to do! I thought it would be next to impossible–that you would be so sure of the truth that I would have to lie through my teeth for hours to even plant the seed of doubt in your head. I lied, and I'm so sorry– sorry because I hurt you, sorry because it was a worthless effort. Sorry that I couldn't protect you from what I am. I lied to save you, and it didn't work. I'm sorry."
I had made my apologies, but now my pain and frustration were beginning to win over. I could see them coming, but I couldn't stop. Bella stared at me in shocked silence.
"But how could you believe me? After all the thousand times I've told you I love you, how could you let one word break your faith in me? I could see it in your eyes, that you honestly believed that I didn't want you anymore. The most absurd, ridiculous concept–as if there were any way that I could exist without needing you!"
It seemed so obvious when I said it out loud. After everything, could she finally see what she should have seen from the beginning? I shook her shoulder again.
"Bella. Really, what were you thinking?"
Overwhelmed, she began to cry.
"I knew it," she managed. "I knew I was dreaming."
"You're impossible," I laughed quietly, sadly. This was so Bella. "How can I put this so that you'll believe me? You're not asleep, and you're not dead. I'm here and I love you. I have always loved you, and I will always love you. I was thinking of you, seeing your face in my mind, every second that I was away. When I told you that I didn't want you, it was the very blackest kind of blasphemy."
She shook her head as I told her all of this. Her face was covered in tears. I ached, longing to make it right. I wanted her trust, even though I didn't deserve it. It felt as though things might never go back to the way they had been.
"You don't believe me, do you?" I asked, my voice unable to rise above a whisper. "Why can you believe the lie, but not the truth?"
"It never made sense for you to love me," she choked. "I always knew that."
Small things began to click into place. This wasn't just about me. It was about her. I had always known that Bella was insecure, but this was to a ridiculous extent. Her vision was so skewed that she couldn't see the blatant truth in front of her. When she looked in the mirror, she missed her own perfection. I wished I could show her everything clearly. Her selflessness, her passion, her honesty. It made perfect sense for me to love her. How could I not love someone so pure? Someone so much better than I had any right to even pretend to be?
A deep urge that I had suppressed fought its way to the surface. I wanted Bella. I wanted her against me, clinging with her own particular fervency. I wanted to kiss her and have her kiss me back. I wanted to feel her lips pressing against mine, and her hands running through my hair. I wanted her to fight against my control in the way that I used to scold her for. I wanted it all, more than anything.
"I'll prove you're awake," I said. I grabbed her face between my hands and pulled her close, fighting against her surprised struggles. I would fight away all of her pain. I would show her what she meant to me.
"Please, don't," she whispered. Her voice was sad.
I froze, our lips almost touching. I remembered my earlier hesitance and once again waited for her rejection. All my talk of needing her and loving her was nothing if she didn't want me.
"Why not?" I asked, terrified. Like always, I was frustrated with her silent mind.
"When I wake up–okay, forget that one"–she didn't look as though she had as she amended her words to silence my attempts at protest–"When you leave again, it's going to be hard enough without this, too."
I pulled back slightly, needing an explanation. When I left again? So she wanted me to leave, then? Finally hearing the words seemed surreal and I had to have it clarified. And I needed to know why.
"Yesterday," I said, remembering "when I would touch you, you were so…hesitant, so careful, and yet still the same. I need to know why. Is it because I'm too late? Because I've hurt you too much? Because you have moved on, as I meant for you to? That would be…"–excruciating, horrendous, disastrous–"quite fair. I won't contest your decision. So don't try to spare my feelings, please–just tell me now whether or not you can still love me, after everything I've done to you. Can you?" The last bit sounded a little like begging, but if that's what it took then I would throw myself prostrate at her feet.
"What kind of idiotic question is that?"
"Just answer it. Please."
She had to know how her silence was killing me.
"The way I feel about you will never change," she began slowly and forcefully, much like how I had spoken earlier. "Of course I love you–and there's nothing you can do about it!"
All of my fears came crashing down around me. This had been the last hurtle, and now it was over. I was left standing as the sole winner with a prize that I had never dared to hope for. I was light, and I felt a relief almost as strong as when I'd realized she was alive.
"That's all I needed to hear."
Bella stared me down, her eyes full of determination. I couldn't wait a moment longer. I forced her lips to mine, letting go of a certain amount of restraint. If she hadn't been as fragile as glass I would have crushed her to me. But as it was, we were locked together. I was elated to notice that her kiss was as enthusiastic as mine. She did want me, in every way that I wanted her, and that knowledge filled the last bit of the hole that had torn at me while I was away. I was finally complete.
"Bella," I whispered between kisses, giving her time to gasp in some air before our lips met again. Her heart was beating wildly and her skin against mine felt warmer that anything I had felt in months. Her soft curves molded against my solid skin and gave way to the pressure of my body. I ran my hands along her face, taking in every part and pulling her closer. Her heart was pounding deafeningly and I slowly broke the kiss to lay my head down against her chest. I listened contently to the beating rhythm that determined the pace of my life, recovering from my intense emotions.
"By the way," I said, as something of an afterthought. "I'm not leaving you."
She didn't answer. Did she still not believe me after that?
"I'm not going anywhere," I promised. "Not without you. I only left you in the first place because I wanted you to have a chance at a normal, happy, human life. I could see what I was doing to you–keeping you constantly on the edge of danger, taking you away from the world you belonged in, risking your life every moment I was with you. So I had to try. I had to do something, and it seemed like leaving was the only way. If I hadn't thought you would be better off, I could have never made myself leave. I'm much too selfish. Only you could be more important than what I wanted…what I needed. What I want and need is to be with you, and I know I'll never be strong enough to leave again. I have too many excuses to stay–thank heaven for that! It seems you can't be safe, no matter how many miles I put between us."
"Don't promise me anything," she whispered and I fought back my anger. Now she was just being stubborn. How many different ways did I have to say it? What did I have to do to make her believe?
"You think I'm lying to you now?"
"No–not lying." She shook her head, looking contemplative. "You could mean it…now. But what about tomorrow, when you think about all the reasons you left in the first place? Or next month, when Jasper takes a snap at me?"
I winced at her matter-of-fact tone. She said it as though it were simply a matter of time. Did she think I would change my mind that quickly? It had been difficult enough the first time. Now, knowing what I knew, I wasn't certain I couldn't do it. Even if I wanted to.
"It isn't as if you hadn't thought the first decision through, is it?" she continued. "You'll end up doing what you think is right."
I mentally scoffed at that. What had I ever done what was right? Leaving her was the first time I had done something even slightly unselfish, and I certainly wouldn't describe it as right.
"I'm not as strong as you give me credit for," I said. "Right and wrong have ceased to mean much to me; I was coming back anyway. Before Rosalie told me the news, I was already past trying to live through one week at a time, or even one day. I was fighting to make it through a single hour. It was only a matter of time–and not much of it–before I showed up at your window and begged you to take me back. I'd be happy to beg now, if you'd like that."
She twisted her face into a scowl. "Be serious, please."
"Oh, I am," I said. I was perfectly serious. I almost began begging right then. She didn't seem to be listening any other way. "Will you please try to hear what I'm telling you? Will you let me attempt to explain what you mean to me?"
I paused, waiting for her protest. When she remained silent, I continued on.
"Before you, Bella, my life was like a moonless night. Very dark, but there were stars–points of light and reason….And then you shot across my sky like a meteor. Suddenly everything was on fire; there was brilliancy, there was beauty. When you were gone, when the meteor had fallen over the horizon, everything went black. Nothing had changed, but my eyes were blinded by the light. I couldn't see the stars anymore. And there was no more reason for anything."
She looked cautious. "Your eyes will adjust."
"That's just the problem–they can't."
"What about your distractions?"
I laughed harshly at the absurdity of that. "Just part of the lie, love. There was no distraction from the…the agony. My heart hasn't beat in almost ninety years, but this was different. It was like my heart was gone–like I was hollow. Like I'd left everything that was inside me here with you."
"That's funny," she muttered.
I raised my eyebrow. "Funny?" I knew I had laughed, but I still failed to see the humor.
"I meant strange–I thought it was just me. Lots of pieces of me went missing, too. I haven't been able to really breathe in so long." She took in a deep breath to illustrate her point. "And my heart. That was definitely lost."
In answer to her words I leaned my head back against her heart again. Its beat was strong, even quick. She sounded healthy to me. I closed my eyes letting the rhythm lull me.
"Tracking wasn't a distraction, then?" she asked as I lay there. I could hear her voice reverberating through her ribcage.
"No. That was never a distraction. It was an obligation."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that, even thought I never expected any danger from Victoria, I wasn't going to let her get away with…" I trailed off, not wanting to think of that. "Well, like I said, I was horrible at it. I traced her as far as Texas, but then I followed a false lead down to Brazil–and really she came here." I wasn't able to suppress a groan at my guilt. Bella had been in so much danger, and all because of my own blindness. "I wasn't even on the right continent! And all the while, worse than my worst fears-"
"You were hunting Victoria?" Bella exclaimed loudly. Her voice was unnaturally high. She caught herself, and paused for a moment until she was sure Charlie was still asleep.
I stared at her furious expression, confused. Of course I had been hunting Victoria. Who else? I didn't understand how that made her angry. I had been trying to protect her all along. Was she reacting out of some strange need for self-sufficiency? Did she feel like it was unnecessary? Most likely, she was upset at my failure.
"Not well," I admitted, watching her. "But I'll do better this time. She won't be tainting perfectly good air by breathing in and out for much longer."
When she spoke she sounded like she was being strangled by her words. "That is…out of the question."
I ignored her. There wasn't a choice. Victoria would die for what she had done.
"It's too late for her," I snarled. "I might have let the other time slide, but not now, not after-"
"Didn't you just promise that you weren't going to leave?" I could hear her struggling against the panic. "That isn't exactly compatible with an extended tracking expedition, is it?"
The guilt crept in a bit as I heard how pained her voice was. Now that I was certain she wanted me, her motivations were clearer. Her hesitance made more sense. She was terrified that I would leave her. I felt horrible for the irrational fear that I had created in her. I would never leave again, but I couldn't just let Victoria roam free, planning her revenge.
"I will keep my promise, Bella. But Victoria is going to die. Soon."
"Let's not be hasty," her voice rose. "Maybe she's not coming back. Jake's pack probably scared her off. There's really no reason to go looking for her. Besides, I've got bigger problems than Victoria."
I nodded and the guilt grew a bit more. Guilt and anger. Couldn't the supernatural world just leave her along? "It's true. The werewolves are a problem."
Bella snorted. "I wasn't talking about Jacob. My problems are a lot worse than a handful of adolescent wolves getting themselves into trouble."
Is that how she saw it? Did she understand that with werewolves "trouble" was accidentally tearing your face off because they had a bad day and couldn't control their temper? And I was suspicious of this Jacob. I knew her friends from Forks high. This was someone else. A boy.
I began to ask her what place exactly this werewolf held in her life, but then changed my mind. Even in my head the words sounded accusing, and that was not the best road to take tonight. I involuntarily clenched my teeth together.
"Really?" I asked. "Then what would be your greatest problem? That would make Victoria's returning for you seem like such an inconsequential matter in comparison?"
"How about the second greatest?" she suggested. It was obvious she was avoiding something.
"All right," I said. I would find out what she wasn't saying eventually, and it was better if she told me in her own time.
She hesitated, looking a little scared, as though the words themselves were dangerous. "There are others who are coming to look for me."
Yes, the Volturi. I sighed. They would be a problem, but it wasn't as bad as I predicted. We could handle that when the time came. But I could see why she feared them, and honestly, I was surprised that she didn't look more frightened.
"The Volturi are only the second greatest?" I wondered.
"You don't seem that upset about it."
"Well, we have plenty of time to think it through. Time means something very different to them than it does to you, or even me. They count years the way you count days. I wouldn't be surprised if you were thirty before you crossed their minds again." I attempted to sound nonchalant. No need to add more worry than necessary. And I really was certain that given time, not to mention the exceptional skills of my family members, we could come up with a solution. It was possible, though unlikely, that the Volturi might not even think about Bella until she was far too old for them to have an interest in her anymore.
And even if they did, I had seen their minds. I knew how they operated. With Alice in on the plan, it was quite possible that we could keep Bella out of the Volturi's way for the entire span of her life.
Bella's face was twisted into a new expression of horror. Apparently, I hadn't been nonchalant enough.
"You don't have to be afraid," I assured her. She was beginning to tear up again. "I won't let them hurt you."
"While you're here." So she still didn't believe me. She was rightly wary of my words. It was going to be difficult to assure her of her safety when she didn't trust me, but I would do my best.
I grabbed her face between my hands and stared her down with all the intensity I could muster. I articulated every word as I spoke. "I will never leave you again."
"But you said thirty," she whispered, slightly petulant. "What? You're going to stay, but let me get all old anyway? Right."
Such a female. Afraid of getting older. Her worries would have been a little adorable if she hadn't been begging me to turn her into a monster. "That's exactly what I'm going to do. What choice have I? I cannot be without you, but I will not destroy your soul."
"Is this really…" she began, and then broke off. Tears ran down her face. She looked conflicted, as though she was still wasn't clear on the finer points of my love. Anything she wanted, I would clarify. I wanted her in every way. I needed her. I loved her more than anything. I would never leave. She was perfect. She was an angel. Whatever she didn't understand I would explain to her.
"Yes?" I prompted, impatient with her silence.
"But what about when I get so old that people think I'm your mother? Your grandmother?"
Of course I would love her then. As though her age mattered to me. Lest she forget, I was over a hundred years old. I brushed my lips along her tears. "That doesn't mean anything to me. You will always be the most beautiful thing in my world. Of course…" my mind considered the opposite and it was difficult to fight the habit of fearing her rejection "If you outgrew me–if you wanted something more–I would understand that, Bella. I promise I wouldn't stand in your way if you wanted to leave me."
She looked annoyed at my explanation. "You do realize that I'll die eventually, right?"
I responded without a hesitation. "I'll follow after as soon as I can."
"That is seriously…sick."
It was so difficult to make her understand when she had her mind set. "Bella, it's the only right way left-"
"Let's just back up for a minute. You do remember the Volturi, right? I can't stay human forever. They'll kill me. Even if they don't think of me till I'm thirty"–she said the word as though it were offensive–"do you really think they'll forget?" She sounded skeptical.
"No," I answered truthfully, shaking my head. "They won't forget. But…" I trailed off. I was certain that she would not approve of my plans to protect her, ridiculous as that was. She hated to be looked after in that way. Something ingrained from her childhood, I supposed.
"But?"
I couldn't help it. I grinned. It was just such a relief to have a certain amount of power back in my hands. She was safe, and the more I thought it through, the more it seemed plausible that I could keep her safe forever. Alice could see the Volturi's every move, and Bella was immune to almost all of their abilities. Not even Demetri could catch her trail.
"I have a few plans," I told her.
"And these plans," she said, her voice bitter. "These plans all center around me staying human." She said the word with the same venom that she had said "thirty". So now she was against humanity? It wasn't just that she wanted immortality, but now it seemed that she didn't want to be human. It was almost insulting. Any one member of my family would do anything to be human again. Rosalie, Esme, Jasper, Alice, Emmett. Even Carlisle. All of us would die, again, if it meant that we could have even one day of our human lives back.
"Naturally," I responded, frustrated with her naivety. She would stay human. I would make sure of that. She could pout and complain all she wanted, but at least this I could control.
She tried to stare me down. I glared back. It is difficult to out stare a vampire.
After a minute she gave up, took a deep breath, and pushed her way out of my arms. The remains of her warmth tingled on my skin.
"Do you want me to leave?" I asked, striving to be polite and hide my pain. If she didn't want me here, I wouldn't hang around. She would always have that option, no matter how difficult it was for me.
"No," she stated matter-of-factly. "I'm leaving."
She climbed out of bed and began to search for her shoes. They were by her dresser, but she was digging through the darkness of her closet, unable to see. I watched her warily.
"May I ask where you are going?"
"I'm going to your house," she said. I slipped across the room, too quickly for her to see, grabbed her shoes, and then made my way back to her side.
"Here are your shoes. How did you plan to get there?"
"My truck."
"That will probably wake Charlie," I reminded her, hoping to talk her out of it. She knew as well as I did that Charlie did not need anything else to be angry about. I didn't know what she was planning, but judging by our most recent conversation, it couldn't be good.
She sighed. "I know, but honestly, I'll be grounded for weeks as it is. How much more trouble can I really get in?"
"None. He'll blame me, not you."
"If you have a better idea, I'm all ears."
"Stay here," I tried.
"No dice. But you go ahead and make yourself at home," she replied sarcastically and made a move for the door. It was good to hear her joke again.
I flashed into the doorway before she could get there and stood with my hands on the frame, blocking her in.
Her forehead creased in an adorable frown and she swished around dramatically, heading for the window instead. Was she going to jump down? She would break her neck. But I was curious to see what she was planning, and I knew there was no way she would tell me until she had gotten what she wanted.
"Okay," I said. "I'll give you a ride."
She shrugged, overdoing the unconcerned act by just a bit. "Either way. But you probably should be there, too."
"And why is that?"
"Because you're extraordinarily opinionated, and I'm sure you'll want a chance to air your views."
I could see where this was headed, and I was not pleased. I stood, rigid, my jaw clenched. "My views on which subject?"
"This isn't just about you anymore. You're not the center of the universe, you know." At any other time I would have laughed at her blatantly superior attitude, but her looming words left me in no mood. "If you're going to bring the Volturi down on us over something as stupid as leaving me human, then your family ought to have a say."
"A say in what?" I asked icily, knowing her answer.
"My mortality. I'm putting it to a vote."
That was not what I wanted to hear.
A/N: Yeesh! There was a lot of dialogue in that chapter. It makes it difficult to feel like I wasn't just copying straight out of the book. I swear I got some original writing in there somewhere.