Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters that may appear in this story belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder is my original work. No reproduction is allowed without my written consent.
~.o.~
The Ace of Spades
Chapter Four—Losing the Pot
The moment I told Edward of my intentions to quit drinking, he'd happily gone through and cleansed the house of any alcoholic beverage he could find. Of course, he didn't know about the bottle of rum taped up to the underside of the sink or the mini-bottles of whiskey I still had hidden in the bag of flour in our pantry. It was my own sheer willpower that kept me from cracking those open and savoring one last drink.
In the year since I'd quit drinking, I hadn't been able to find it in myself to throw out those reminders of my past life. In some small way, it was reassuring to have them nearby… just in case.
My addictions were no longer the game, drinking, or women. Instead, my obsession became being a better man. That's what drove me forward, and though I often found myself tempted by my past, I was resilient. I was determined to live a life I could be proud of. I would never admit it out loud, but I hoped that Bella would be proud, as well.
Sometimes, though, the cravings were strong, and I desperately wished I could indulge. Tonight was one of those times.
"So, let's hear it, little bro. What's the dilemma?"
"Well, I wouldn't call it a dilemma as much as a predicament," Edward started, leaning forward on the counter and fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie. "It's Bella…"
I nodded. It normally was about Bella on nights when he'd seek out my advice. I was amazed this part of our relationship survived after that disastrous night he'd come to me about his virginity. I recoiled at the thought of what an asshole I'd been that night. I was his big brother; I should have done better.
Of course, I was sure even Edward wouldn't have blamed me if he'd known the reason behind my behavior. I considered it penance that I stood there and listened to him talk about the love of our lives. It was the least I could do to make up for my past behavior.
"… I proposed to her."
Though the jealousy burned, I maintained my practiced expression of indifference. A year may have been enough time to heal a lot of past regrets, but it was definitely not enough time to cure my foolish love for Bella. If anything, time magnified my feelings for her.
It had taken months for Bella to visit our house after our argument. It would be stupid to think she'd forgotten our exchange, but she seemed content in ignoring it, and we easily resumed our playful banter from before. Knowing I had somehow been given a reprieve, I was determined not to cross any lines. I maintained my outward indifference well, and, though I still had a hard time keeping my eyes off her, I kept both the joy and hurt she brought to my life a secret.
This degree of pain, however, was unimaginable and, frankly, a bit surprising. I thought I'd been prepared. It was only a matter of time, after all — Edward and Bella getting hitched had always been a sure thing.
"But she told me no," Edward said.
I openly gaped at him, and, even though I hated myself for it, my heart filled with hope. "She told you no?"
"She didn't like how I proposed," he mumbled, unable to meet my eyes.
He didn't seem to want to elaborate. His head was tilted down, hiding his face from me, but I could still see the blush on his cheeks. I suppressed my smile and said, "Edward, what did you do?"
Edward sighed, his shoulders slumping even more. "I, um, may have possibly taken out an advertisement on the Mariners' billboard at the baseball game we went to last week."
"You didn't!" I said in disbelief, not able to keep myself from laughing.
"Yep." Edward looked like he wanted to die.
"Of course she was going to hate that! This is Bella we're talking about, and you proposed to her in the most cliché way possible!"
"I know, I know! I don't know what I was thinking! I just wanted it to be special, but I couldn't think of anything good enough. I didn't even get to show her the ring before she turned to me and told me I'd better not even think about it."
"So, what? Did she reject you in front of all those people?"
Edward sighed again and finally looked me in the eye. "Not exactly. I wasn't brave enough to actually have the camera focused on us when the ad flashed so no one around us even knew I was the one proposing. The ad came across the screen — the generic, 'Bella, will you marry me? Love, Edward.' Don't look at me like that! I know it was stupid," he added at my incredulous expression.
"I'm sorry that's just so… lame."
"I know," he said, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, she wasn't even paying attention, so I pointed to it and while she looked up, I reached into my pocket to get the ring. Before I could get the box open, she turned around and told me to put the case away. She told me she wanted the ring to be a surprise for when I really proposed to her."
I laughed again. It was just like Bella to do something like that. It was exactly why I loved her so much. I felt my heart crack a little more at the thought. "So, I guess that means it's pretty much a sure thing, then. She wants to marry you as long as you propose in an acceptable fashion."
"Yeah, and that's the problem. The baseball ad was at the top of my list of ways to propose. It only goes downhill from there."
"What else did you come up with?"
"You know, like putting the ring into a fortune cookie or making a cake with 'Will You Marry Me?' in frosting. Will you stop looking at me like that! I know it's lame."
"I'm sorry! I can't help it that your ideas suck so hard!" I said, attempting to wrestle my features back into my look of indifference and failing miserably. It was much harder trying not to laugh than it was trying not to cry.
"Well, that's why I'm asking you," Edward snapped shortly. "You're the one who claims to know everything about the female specimen."
That wiped the smile off my face quickly. I hadn't made that claim since I'd fallen in love with Bella. What did I know about love except how to get your heart ripped into a million pieces? "I'm not sure I'm the best person to ask on that front, Edward."
He was quiet for a moment before saying, "Look, J, I know that you never particularly liked Bella, but she is going to be a part of your life as long as you're a part of mine."
I turned my back to him, unable to keep up my mask. He was right; I didn't like Bella. How could any man simply like a woman who was complete perfection, who encompassed everything good and wonderful and purely right in humanity?
"So, please, J, just accept the fact that she is going to be a part of this family. You don't have to love her, but please accept her."
Neither of us said anything for a long time. As much as I tried to convince myself that I had come to terms with the fact that Bella was going to be with my brother and not me, I knew I had never truly accepted it.
I understood why Bella had chosen Edward over me before; I had unquestionably been an asshole. But in the moments where I was being completely honest with myself, I couldn't comprehend why she was still choosing him over me. As much I hated myself for it, in my heart of hearts I still believed that one day I would be with her.
She had noted my transformation on several occasions, commenting on how she couldn't believe how improved I had become in such a short period of time. Certainly it wouldn't be much longer before she considered me worthy of her affections.
And did I not deserve it? Did I not love her better than my brother? I certainly knew her better. After all, I would never be stupid enough to propose to her by billboard.
If I were to propose to Bella, it would be sweet and subtle, not some obnoxious display. I had thought about it often, the way I would slip the ring on her finger, the words I would say, and how I would make love to her after. It would be perfection.
I shook my head at my thought process. I hadn't changed at all, not really. I was still the same scheming asshole trying to steal my brother's girlfriend. I was just being much nicer about it. This was exactly why I would never deserve her.
"Her hand," I whispered barely loud enough for Edward to hear. If the only way to deserve Bella was to give Edward my perfect future, I would pay the price — even if it meant I'd never have it for myself. "Slip the ring on her finger, and write it on the palm of her hand while she's sleeping."
A slow smile tugged at his lips. "That's perfect!" he said happily, clapping me on the shoulder and turning to walk out the kitchen. "I knew you'd come up with something brilliant! I can't thank you enough!"
"Make sure you're awake when she sees it," I whispered to no one. "Her face will be glorious."
Indeed, her face was still shining when she walked through our front door a few days later.
"You're looking quite stunning today, Bella," I quipped, the same as always.
"Am I glowing?" she asked, playfully. "I always hear that women glow when they get engaged."
"As I said, stunning," I whispered, no hint of sarcasm in my tone.
I could just make out the smudged, "Will you marry me?" written in Edward's handwriting on the palm of her hand.
