A/N: I'm sorry this took a little longer to get posted! Real Life makes its own demands, unfortunately. And I had a tough time with this chapter.
Many many thanks to pogurl for being a great beta and making some of the conversations readable. Ruby_Wednesday, thanks for letting me ask random questions!
And in case you didn't see it, I have some EXTRAS to this story, aptly titled My Love Shall Ever Live Young Extras, posted. Right now it is two one-shots from Edward's perspective, set before Aengus began. More extras from him and other characters will appear there periodically.
Edward in a full-bellied laugh was a delicious sight. It reminded her that he was indeed a god who was simply taking on a human form and appearance for her sake. His whole face transformed and she was struck by the unearthly beauty there. His skin seemed to be slightly illuminated from within when he laughed. His head tilted back and the musical sound of his laugh folded around her.
Not for the first time since they were reunited earlier in the month, she was staggered by the fact that this was her life, now. He was the final puzzle piece that completed her. It was amazing that just over three weeks ago, she had felt fractured and isolated and alone in the world; even her family and her close relationships with Alice, Emmett, and Jasper hadn't helped her feel connected to life in such a way. Without this familial connection, she was sure that she would have wandered through her life with little direction. As it was, even with them in her life she'd gone through quite a stint in her college years, trying to find something—anything—to make her feel passionate. To make her feel connected. To make her feel whatever it was she was lacking. To make her feel.
Bella gave a mental shudder when she thought about what she'd put herself through in those college years. Brief journeys into alcohol and drugs hadn't satisfied the lack in her life. Acting had been fun, but hadn't met the end goal. Cutting...cutting hadn't lasted long. Long enough to leave scars, though. So she had settled on the pleasure she could get from men and from writing. Though she didn't consider herself promiscuous, she thought perhaps she'd had more partners than a lot of women her age. Aside from Alice, however, she had no female friends to ask or compare with. No man had sated the want, but each, coupled with writing the stories that poured out of her, filled up enough of the hole in her life that she could cope.
She knew now that what she was lacking was her mate, that what she had needed was to be reunited with Edward.
Not for the first time, she wondered how her life might have been different if she had gone through with the study abroad program in Ireland. She knew her decision to stay home and help take care of Charlie had been the right one; she didn't regret it. However, she couldn't help the nagging feeling that if she'd gone to Ireland for the semester or year once Charlie had recovered from the car accident she could have seen this glorious sight, Edward's face lit up in a laugh, nine years ago.
Her heart ached for the loss of what might have been.
Her brain, however, hadn't quite let go of the glorious sight before her. She pushed her musings to the side and faked a pout. "Are you making fun of me?"
Her breath caught in her throat as he brought his head down to meet her eyes. The actively changing green that she was staring into captured her. His face still illuminated by mirth, he drew closer to her and gathered her up in his arms so that her cheek was pressed against his chest. She felt his lips brush the top of her head.
"I am laughing at you, I'm sorry. Well, not sorry I'm laughing. I'm sorry if it bothers you."
She took in a deep breath, inhaling his scent. He smelled like home. "Mmmm." She murmured into the cloth of his coat. She felt his arms tighten around her slightly and she snaked her own arms inside his coat, wrapping them firmly around his torso.
"Mmmm?" He questioned.
"You smell good," she answered. She should get back to the topics of their reincarnating habits, past lives, of Maureen and Seamus, of the time (times?) they had incarnated into her family tree.
She should, but at the moment she just wanted to revel in the feel of Edward's arms around her, in the feeling of belonging, in the completeness. The contrast of the cooling air of a November evening in Washington with the warmth of his body pressed against her gave her goosebumps. Or perhaps, she thought, the goosebumps could simply be attributed to him. She could feel his breath ruffling her hair as he rested his chin gently on top of her head. She breathed in, in the vain hope that she could catch a bit of his breath as he breathed out.
She backed up slightly so that she could look up at his face. "Was Seamus the only time that happened? That you wasted away because you left Ireland?"
He shook his head. "No, though it was the last time anything like that happened. Once before, the couple we'd incarnated into fled Ireland for this continent because of famine." He looked very sad. "There were so many famines in the 18th and 19th centuries. So many Irish starved to death, Bella." He paused. "Like Seamus, Colm started to become ill on the long voyage from Ireland to the States, and then he wasted away."
She squeezed her arms around him, glad she couldn't remember him as Colm, remember that life, too, withering to nothing. "And in this form? How are you being away from home?"
His hands ran soothingly up and down her back.
"In this form, I'm tied just as fiercely to home. I'll be very weak if we're away for too long. But Bella, the short time we're here for Thanksgiving won't affect me. It's ok. I can feel the worry radiating off of you."
Her eyes squinched up in thought. "So if you can only leave Ireland for fairly short periods of time, how is it you were hanging out in and around my head for thirty years? Did you go back to Ireland a lot to recharge or something?"
"No, my heart. It's only my physical manifestations that react that way; being reborn as I was as Colm and Seamus, or masquerading in a body like I am now, these physical manifestations are linked to the Ireland in a fundamental way. I'm not entirely sure I can explain it; it just is this way." He pulled her back into the warmth of his chest. "Before we met again this month, and when we're in between incarnations, we exist in the Otherworld, the land of the Tuatha, what modern men call the land of faerie. We don't exist in quite the same way there; it translates to insubstantial forms in this world."
He seemed to be struggling to articulate his explanation. "I think that by confining my spirit into a physical manifestation, I'm almost cutting it off, or creating a thick buffer, between my spirit and the Otherworld, which means I'm considerably weaker than I am in my natural state. In that case, being physically closer to the doors to the Otherworld means my physical body stays healthy; moving away from that connection means my physical body grows weak; my weakened spirit can't sustain it. That is my theory, anyway."
"Oh," Bella murmured. "So no lengthy trips to travel the world, then? We'll always need to go back home after a certain time so that you can stay strong?"
She watched the waning light of the sun glint off of his hair as he nodded. "Yes. So no month-long backpacking trips across the Himalayas, I'm afraid."
Bella made a frustrated face up at him. "No month-long backpacking trips? Whatever shall I do?" She allowed her voice to take on a false note of hysteria while trying to suppress a giggle.
He leaned down and feathered a kiss on her cheek. The hair on the nape of her neck rose with his whispered response.
"Well, a ghrá, I think it best if you do me. Don't you?"
Bella felt a delightful shiver run through her body and she leaned back enough to nip at his chin above her.
"What do you think our chances are of making it upstairs to my room without grief from my brother?"
She let out a shuddering breath as his grin spread across his beautiful face.
"I'd say the chances are good." He pressed his lips against her forehead and guided her back toward the house. She delighted in the feel of his hand on the small of her back and the way the warmth from his hand seemed to seep through her coat and radiate through her, in spite of the chilly November air.
The sun had set, and their path was only just visible in the light of the full moon. Bella glanced up at Edward beside her and stopped.
Stopped moving.
Stopped breathing.
Stopped thinking.
There was breathtaking, and there was breathtaking. Edward was the latter. He was hers. Her brain stuttered as it processed this. Hers.
Edward noticed her lack of motion after a step or two and turned into her. He chuckled and cupped her face with his hands.
"In" he commanded. "Breathe in."
She obeyed, surprised to realize she'd stopped at all.
"Out."
She exhaled with a smile and turned her head to kiss his palm. "Mine." She breathed.
"Yes," he agreed. "Yours. Always yours. In our past lives, in this life, in our future lives. Yours. Just as you are mine."
Bella leaned into his hands like a cat, rubbed her cheek against his hand and wishing she could purr in contentment.
"Do you feel tired?"
She raised an eyebrow and paused. "No. It's not late enough, really. Why?"
"Do you think you can fake being tired and needing a nap?"
"Um...maybe?" She answered and questioned.
He nodded in approval. "Good. This is how we'll get past Emmett. You're going to be just exhausted. I'm going to carry you upstairs so you can take a nap. And we'll stay up there. And we'll see how quiet you can be." He smirked at her and licked his lips.
Lips that she wanted on her.
"Suddenly, I feel absolutely exhausted. So very tired." She placed the back of her hand against her forehead and let her knees sag for dramatic effect.
"The most beautiful actress to ever see the stage."
She held out her hand to him. "To the house?"
"To the house."
By this time, they'd cleared the woods surrounding the Swan home and had entered the halo of light that surrounded the house, courtesy of a battery of flood lights Charlie had installed during a rare rash of break ins years ago.
As they came close to the back door, Bella let her pace slow down and her feet drag a bit. Her posture slumped and she wrapped her arm around Edward.
At the door, he lowered his head to kiss the top of hers. "Tired, my heart?"
"Exhausted." She hoped that she wasn't over-doing the tone in her voice; she knew Emmett would be staring out the window and observing her with Edward. They would have to work on that. She was getting beyond annoyed at the men. She and Edward wouldn't be here much longer, and she refused to leave with the same tensions between the three of them. She wasn't naïve enough to think everything would be resolved lickety split, but there needed to be something resolved there.
Edward reached forward and opened the door, and before she could step forward into the warmth of the house, he scooped her up, bridal-style, and carried her across the threshold.
"Edward," she cautioned.
"Yes?" All innocence.
She rolled her eyes. "I'm tired, not crippled. I can walk."
He beamed down at her. "Why make you exert all that extra energy? I can carry you upstairs."
"Seriously?" She huffed and scowled at him. "Let me walk."
He responded by squeezing her closer to his body and grinning. He really was ridiculous, she thought. Carrying her all through the bottom floor of the house to the stairs, and then carry her up the stairs, too?
He strode past an irritated-looking Emmett, through the dining room and living room to the staircase.
Yes. Clearly he did mean to do just that. She sagged against him in defeat and cracked her jaw on a very big, very real yawn. "Maybe I'll really go to sleep," she whispered to him.
He didn't even break stride. "I doubt that," he said confidently.
Bella wrapped her arms loosely around his neck. She wanted to tug his head down so she could kiss him silly, but since he was navigating the stairs with her in his arms, she thought she should keep that to herself for a moment. As it was, she nuzzled up against him, enjoying the feel of him moving, and inhaling his mouthwatering smell.
When they arrived in her room, he lowered her down to the bed, pressed his lips to her forehead, and headed back out the door.
Wait, what?
"Where do you think you're going?" She demanded, sitting up. "I thought this was going to be Edward and Bella time!" She narrowed her eyes at him, attempting to glare at him, in spite of the stunning smile spreading across his face.
Smug bastard. Smug handsome bastard. Smug handsome bastard who had better get back in her room right now.
Apparently he couldn't take the hint from her glare, however, because he was already in the hallway.
"Hot chocolate," he said with that infuriating and delicious smug smile still on his face. "You want hot chocolate before you take your nap, and you sent me down to the kitchen for it." He had the audacity (of course) to wink at her before he turned and disappeared. She could hear him bounding down the stairs, probably taking them two at a time, and she heard the muffled voices of him and her brother before her sense of hearing failed her and she was in quiet again.
She divested herself of her heavy outer clothes and flopped back down onto the bed to wait for Edward and the hot chocolate. Not willing to wait for him to get the evening started, she lazily shifted her weight on the bed, rubbing her legs together, creating a lovely friction and whetting her body's appetite for Edward. Just thinking about having his body against hers made her blood pulse and the moisture soak her panties. She began to lightly rub herself, enjoying the extra friction she got out of pressing the seam of her jeans against her clit. Her breathing was faster and she could feel her skin beginning to flush.
This is how Edward found her when he came back up to the room.
She heard him pause in the doorway and suck in a breath. She didn't stop her hand's movements, just craned her head to look at him in all his beauty, the back lighting provided by the hallway casting his features and giving his hair an almost angelic glow.
"Bella," he breathed out.
"Edward," she purred in return, trying to sound as sultry as she could.
His jaw dropped slightly and before she knew it, the door was shut behind him, the mug of hot chocolate unceremoniously dropped to her desk, and her love was on top of her, his mouth on hers, his hands already peeling her shirt off.
Bella kept her legs locked around his waist and rocked and pushed at him, indicating that she wanted to roll over. He obliged, and then she was on top, her body still locked on his, with him filling her up as only he could. She paused for a moment, settling her weight on her hips and legs, pressing further into him, grinding and creating a delicious friction.
Edward spread out under and before her, all muscle and sinew and sex was a favorite view of hers. His hair fanned out from his head, his chest rose and fell with his heavy breaths, his muscles rippled across his torso as they moved together. He was art in motion. He was hers.
She lowered her body to his, needing to feel the sweat and heat from his body seep into hers. One hand, placed on the mattress next to his ribs, she used for balance. The other she used to reach up and grab on to the back of his neck. She was getting close, and could see in his eyes that he was there with him. Gods, how she loved this creature bound to her. It was as if her soul was reaching out between them, joining their energies together as their bodies came together over and over. Bella felt his grip on her hips tighten to an almost painful level as he began to thrust up into her harder and faster.
They were tangled limbs and heavy breathing. They were slick skin and grunts and giggles and moans and frantic kisses. They were whole.
How had she survived all these years without him?
"Out the door." Bella was pointing her finger in the direction of the front door.
The three men in front of her wore incredulous expressions; Edward was sure his was the worst of the three. He knew that Jasper and Emmett were accustomed to 'Stern Bella' putting her foot down when she thought the boys—men, now—in her life were being ridiculous or need prodding in the right direction. This was the first time, however, that he'd been on the receiving end, and he waffled between being turned on and being amused at the small woman ordering around three men who could easily manhandle her. He rather liked the idea of Bella bossing him around from time to time...and in specific circumstances. He'd have to save that thought for later.
"Out the door?" He parroted back to her in doubt.
Emmett sniggered behind him, and he was sure he heard Jasper choking on his own laugh.
He wanted to hit himself on the forehead. He knew full well what happened when someone questioned 'Stern Bella'. He'd seen her in action for decades. Seeing her pull this on other people, however, was entirely different from facing it himself. And he was reacting all wrong.
He just couldn't bring himself to be intimidated by the slip of a woman in front of him, stern expression or no. This was the same woman who tucked perfectly under his arm, who he had to duck to kiss, who he could pick up and swing around with nary a strained muscle. He had tricked The Dagda out of Brú na Bóinne, slain Elcmar, fought against the Milesians, and she thought he was going to just walk out the door with Jasper and Emmett for "bonding time" purely because she said so?
Yes, clearly she did.
Her eyes narrowed and he fought the urge to scoop her up and kiss her silly. She was adorable. Her dark brown eyes were almost slits, her gorgeous lips pursed into a thin line. To complete the picture, one hand was on her hip—right over the mark he'd left with his mouth this morning, he noticed—and her foot was tapping impatiently.
He realized something. Giving in, making himself miserable by keeping company with a man he really didn't want to know and with a man who really didn't want to know him, would please her. It would make her think that he was putting forth effort, and maybe, just maybe, make for a good night later on. His decision was made.
This is how women pull the strings and run the world, he reflected. We want to please them.
He strode forward and leaned down to kiss her softly on her cheek and whispered against her skin. "Because you request it, my heart."
He watched appreciatively as she arched her eyebrow. She really was exquisite.
"Your coat is in the closet," she said flatly.
He heard a quiver in her voice, though, and knew he'd gotten to her. He grinned cheekily at her and pretended to tip a hat in her direction. "Yes, ma'am." Then he turned to the two men who would make him miserable for the next few hours. "Gentlemen?"
The other two already had on their coats—apparently they knew how this little confrontation would go down—so he quickly grabbed his coat and threw it on. He followed Jasper and Emmett out to Jasper's car, and climbed into the back seat.
"A 'rusty nail'? Jesus, Em, that sounds like a pansy mixed drink." Jasper was looking at his cousin-in-law in disbelief.
"How, Jasper, does 'rusty nail' sound pansy? It's a fucking rusty nail for god's sake. Sharp. Metallic. Rusty. And I'll have you know that scotch and Drambuie are very manly."
Edward knew it wouldn't get him the good graces of Bella's brother, but he had to poke. "Why dilute the scotch?"
Emmett shot him a look, and it took all of Edward's self control to suppress a grin. The big man looked completely taken aback. "It's not diluting the scotch. It's combining scotch with Drambuie, and it tastes good." He pointed his chin at the rocks glass sitting in front of Edward. "What do you have in there?" The big man slid his eyes over to Jasper, who was enjoying a martini. "No matter what is in it, at least it's in a manly-looking drink. Fucking Jasper has to have drinks served in glasses with stems and food in them."
Edward chuckled at Emmett's insult, and answered. "Jameson 12 Year Old Special Reserve." He allowed a sad expression to cross his face. "It was either this or Jameson's regular bottling. They don't have the really good stuff here."
Jasper broke in. "Girly drink, Em? This is the drink of choice of James Bond, bitch. Don't question it."
Emmett considered this for a moment. "James Bond? Well ok, since Sean Connery was the original, and he made those stupid drinks look cool fifty years ago, I'll give you the martini. You can't argue that the glass isn't girly, though. Edward and I, we are clearly and obviously drinking men's drinks. You...you look a little light in your loafers with that thing."
Jasper rolled his eyes. "Give me a fucking break. A martini is a classic. It's not like I'm imbibing some bullshit drink a college kid made up last year at a frat party. This has style. History. Substance."
Edward, mindful of his love's insistence that actually be friendly toward one of the other men her age in the family, decides to make small talk with Emmett. "Are you familiar with Irish Whiskey, Emmett? If you like scotch, you'll appreciate Jameson, too, I think."
"Yeah man, I've had Bushmills. It was alright." Emmett shrugged. "I like Glenlivet better though."
"That's because you were drinking Bushmills." He got up and headed over to the bar to buy Emmett a Jameson. There was no way he was going to have his future brother-in-law asking for a Bushmills when he came to visit.
He got back to the table with two glasses in his hand. "This," he said as he set the first one in front of Emmett, "is Jameson's regular bottling. And this," he set down the second glass, "is what I'm drinking, the 12 Year Old Special Reserve. Take your time and enjoy."
Emmett cocked an eyebrow at Edward. "Trying to tell me what to drink?"
"I'm trying to educate your palate. Glenlivet and Glenfiddich are good. I'm actually impressed. Irish whiskey, though, is, in my not at all humble opinion, superior. Give it a try." He leaned back in his chair to enjoy his own glass.
"Doucheward." Emmett looked triumphant.
"Doucheward? Don't be ridiculous. Failward was lame enough."
"It's not lame. It's creative! You're with my little sister. You are by definition a douche. So, Doucheward."
"So Failward?" Edward had a tough time following Emmett's logic on a normal day, but when they were both drinking, it was impossible.
"Failward because you're the first guy Bella has dated for more than two weeks. She has a horrible track record. You'll be gone soon enough." Emmett waved his hand dismissively.
Jasper rolled his eyes at Emmett. "You realize that makes no sense, right Em?"
"Whatever, man. He's still failing with my sister. He's a douche."
"Has she ever brought anyone else home to the family?" Edward knew very well that his heart had never before brought a lover home to meet her parents and brother. Even Alice never met most of them. "Don't you think that means I'm more than a fling?"
Emmett snorted. "My sister? Listen, Jerkward, you don't deserve someone that special. Don't get comfortable. She'll see through you, see that you're only after her money." He glared at Edward. "I find it suspicious that you just happen to have the same name as the hero in her first book. Do that on purpose, did you? Is Edward even your real name?"
Edward fought back a laugh. He wished he could tell this man that the Edward in the book had been named after him and not the other way around. "Actually," he returned in what he hoped was a cocky tone—he really had consumed far too much already. There were two empty bottles of Jameson and a half-full bottle of Glenfiddich on the table; they'd given up on asking the bartender for drinks by the glass and had just bought the bottles outright. The man tending the bar, Seth, had already confiscated Jasper's keys and had promised them a taxi home whenever they were ready to leave, or when the bar closed, whichever came first.
"Actually, my given name is Aengus. It was legally changed to Edward many years ago, however." A little white lie there, with the 'legally changed' business, but whatever. He couldn't be bothered with that right now.
"Many years ago? When was this?" Emmett was leaning forward in his seat glaring at Edward over the table. Out of the corner of his eye, Edward saw Jasper's head swing between the two men as though he were watching a tennis match.
Edward had to think back - when was it that Bella has seen that ridiculous movie, and named him Edward after the main character? "About twenty-five years ago, I think." He paused. "And you're right; Bella is out of my league. But she's chosen me. And I plan on being around for the rest of her life." He tipped his head back slightly as he emptied his glass of its contents.
Emmett scowled at him. "Look Wankward, don't hurt her." He reached across the table and grabbed Edward's hand.
Edward briefly thought about making a crack about how he didn't find Emmett attractive in that way when he felt the huge hand begin to crush his own.
"She may be thirty now, but she's still my baby sister. If you hurt her, it won't matter if the two of you live here or in Ireland; I'll crush you. Are we clear?"
The big man kept squeezing, and Edward's hand, less fragile than a human's or not, was starting to hurt. But he refused to show it. "Emmett, if I hurt Bella, I'll deliver myself to you on a platter."
Emmett nodded sharply and released Edward's hand. He looked over at Jasper, who was looking at the two of them in amusement. "You ready to go, Jazz?"
The blonde man nodded. "I'm ready if you're done playing overprotective brother bear."
Emmett narrowed his eyes at Jasper. "I haven't forgotten about high school and Bella, Jazz. Do I need to beat your ass again, for old times sake?"
Jasper rolled his eyes. "Oh for fuck's sake, Emmett. That was high school." He looked doubtfully over at Edward. "And probably not appropriate to bring up at any rate.
Looking between the two of them, Edward asked, "So Emmett kicked your ass for something that happened with Bella in high school?" He could feel warm affection for Emmett bubbling up. He'd liked the five-year-old Emmett when he'd vowed to Charlie over a newborn Bella that he'd protect his little sister. He'd been delighted when Emmett had decked one of Bella's classmates for claiming he'd bedded her when she was a sophomore in high school. Did he have to thank Emmett for punishing Jasper for his experimenting with Bella?
"Jazz had to go to the hospital, actually." Emmett looked a little embarrassed. "I didn't realize how hard I was hitting him; back then my temper and my size were an almost lethal combination. If he had been anyone besides my friend - Yorkie or Newton, for example - I might've killed him."
Edward quirked an eyebrow. He was fairly sure it was for Jasper's involvement with Bella, but Bella was positive her brother knew nothing of her arrangement with Jasper, and he didn't want to spill the beans if she was right, and Emmett had found another reason to put his friend in the hospital.
"Can I ask?"
Jasper shifted uncomfortably.
"Sure," Emmett shrugged. "I caught Bella and Jasper going at it in the back of his car after a football game her senior year. I didn't want her pissed at me, so I waited until he brought her home and I talked him into going out with me. I beat his ass for sneaking around with my sister."
By this time all three of them had stopped drinking though Edward was still fuzzy. He tried to think back to a time when Jasper had been in the hospital and Bella has still been in high school. He thought he remembered that football game. That year had been so hard on him that he'd spent less time inside Bella's head than he ever had before, and so he supposed that Emmett must have spotted her tryst with Jasper one of those times when he was trying to distract himself while she broke his heart by making out with Jasper.
He played innocent. "You only kicked his ass that once?"
Emmett nodded. "Once was all it took. He didn't go back after that." He looked so sure of himself, so confident.
Edward wanted to laugh. Emmett truly didn't know. Bella and Jasper had been learning together for quite some time by that point, and had stopped shortly after only when Jasper realized how much he wanted to be with Alice. Edward was fairly certain Emmett had no idea of the real reason Bella and Jasper stopped their arrangement.
They divvied up the tab in even thirds, left a nearly fifty percent tip for Seth and the waitress they hadn't really needed, and gathered up their coats. Edward was feeling generous in his drunken haze, so as Emmett walked out first to get into their taxi, he pulled Jasper aside. "I know about your history with Bella," he started. He was delighted when the blood drained out of Jasper's face. Did he think Edward was going to tattle to Emmett? Was he afraid of Edward? "Bella and I have shared a lot, and so I've heard all about high school and college from her. You were a better choice than her classmates, I suppose, but you were never good enough for her." He paused and assessed Jasper, who looked beyond startled. "I'm gratified that Emmett put you in the hospital, and that you apparently kept that from Bella. I have a little more respect for you."
Jasper's mouth was working, but no sound was coming out. Edward had obviously taken him off guard.
"So where does that leave us?"
Edward's forehead furrowed as he thought about the question. "Bella considers you family. I like Alice, quite a bit—she's been an amazing friend to Bella over the years. Your and Alice's children are precious. She wants us to be friends. I don't think I can be." He shrugged. "Call me territorial. But I'm also honest. I won't be your best friend, but I won't insult you." Where you can hear,he thought to himself, "I will be polite and civil and respectful because that is what Bella needs me to do."
Jasper's lips twitched, and Edward wondered what so funny. When Jasper held out his hand for Edward to shake, he wasn't sure what to think. He took it hesitantly, quirking his eyebrow in question.
"Acquaintances?"
Edward nodded in agreement. "Acquaintances."
Having nothing else to say, he spun on his heel and followed Emmett out to the taxi, which the big man had already climbed into. A few moments later, Jasper slid into the front seat with the driver, and Seth handed over the keys to Jasper's car, telling them to come back over whenever they wanted the next day to retrieve the car from the parking lot.
Edward felt a little dirty. He wanted nothing more than to see Emmett deck Jasper, or to do it himself; hitting the man would make him feel better. Shaking hands and more or less calling a truce felt wrong. He'd do what Bella asked and play nice because she was his heart, the reason he existed. He could not, however, let it go, no matter what her modern sense of justice and fairness said. This was the one thing he couldn't do for her.
Move mountains? Yes. Turn his back on family? Yes. Kill? Already had. Put himself through excruciating pain? Of course; already done. Forgive the interlopers who'd shared her bed?
No. They represented too much. Hurt too much.
Not being able to grant her this request destroyed a tiny part of him. It was a small loss, however, when compared to the larger part of him that had shriveled up and died when Jasper and others had shared her bed over the course of fifteen years.
All he could give her, in this request of hers, was the appearance of a truce, and so he'd gone through the act of shaking the blond man's hand. He would sully himself and give her the appearance she needed. It was the least of all the things he was capable of doing for her.
He wasn't entirely sure where he stood with Emmett. Introducing him to good alcohol and letting Bella's brother call him names seemed to have softened Emmett up, but Edward couldn't be sure how much of that was alcohol and how much of that was genuine change. He supposed he'd just have to see where things stood in the morning. Until then, he thought. As they got closer to the house, he pondered a myriad of...stimulating ways to wake his Bella when he got back to the room. He was feeling the need, yet again, to feel just how very much his she was.
Review, m'dears!