Disclaimer: I do not own any of Stephenie Meyer's characters.
Chapter 3
Bella's POV
I leaned against the counter, watching as Dave ate the Snickers bar I bought for him yesterday.
"I need to go to the post office today." He said, his mouth full.
"But it's Sunday," I protested, my voice soft.
He looked up from the newspaper, his eyes dull. "Oh, yeah. Never mind, then. But we need some bread; so I'll go to the grocery store." His gaze averted back to the sports section.
I turned my head, pursing my lips as I looked at the full loaf of bread that sat next to me, still wrapped in plastic. "Okay," I said, and slowly slid the bread behind my back, pretending I never saw. It was never there.
Dave got up, throwing away the candy wrapper and neatly folded the newspaper in a stack. He walked to me and put his hands around my waist.
I leaned my chin on his shoulder, smiling slightly. "I'm going to miss you," I whispered.
"I'm just leaving for a little bit, honey. I'll be back soon." His lips were like butterflies along my neck. I titled my head to the side, giving him more room to work with.
---
The doorbell rang.
I set the Comet down and took off the yellow gloves. The bathroom still looked like a catastrophe. There was bleach everywhere, combing away the smell of blood from a couple nights ago.
I sighed and headed to the door.
When I opened it, I saw an angel.
I was struck below the belt, but not in a physical way.
"Edward," I managed to get out. Two visits in two days. This had to be bad.
He was clutching the rim of the door. I could faintly hear a growl rumble in the pit of his chest, rising to a climax.
Was he mad at me?
"Where is he?" He ground out.
"W-who?" I stuttered. It'd been so long since I had heard his growl. When I had first left, I had to give up the hallucinations, knowing it'd be too painful if I let it go on.
"Him." He couldn't seem to get the name out. When he finally raised his lowered head, I saw his eyes were black.
"At the grocery store," I replied, wishing I hadn't said it already.
Something seemed to lift off of him. The hands that clutched the doorway slowly seemed to descend to his sides. "I need to talk to you."
I silently opened the door, watching him stroll into my living room.
Edward started to pace. "I know you're in a difficult situation."
He knows. I looked at him, horrified. How does he know? Who told him?
Confusion clouded his beautiful face. "Bella, why? Why do you put up with this?"
Finally, I had to chance to talk to someone about this--someone who would accept me for who I was. He would protect me. But I didn't answer.
He grabbed my hand and started to drag me out of the door. "C'mon, you're getting out of this place."
I snatched my hand back, "No!"
Edward turned back to me with an expression that made me ask myself if I was crazy. "Why?"
"Because I love him."
There was silence before he answered, "You love a man who hit's you every night—who treats you like--"
"Yes! Yes, I do!" I screamed, cutting him off before he could go on. I breathed heavily, trying to calm myself down. The next time I spoke, it was no more than a whisper, "You don't understand. He's a nice person… but there's something wrong with him."
"There's going to be more than one thing wrong with him by the time I get through to that bastard," He hissed.
"Please, stop," I begged.
Edward glanced at me for a second before nodding. "Fine," he said, walking to the door. He hesitated, then turned and grabbed my hand.
I jumped, feeling the faintest of sparks. I was amazed, seeing as there was still chemistry between us. But now was not the time.
He put a piece of paper in my hand. I had never noticed he had it in the first place. "It's the address," he explained. "I'll be in Alaska with my family. If you change your mind… come as soon as you can." The back of his free hand gently ran across my cheek. "I need to get out of here before he gets back. I have a feeling you wouldn't be too happy if I killed your husband." I shuddered.
I wanted to go with him—but I needed to stay here. Was it such a sin that I loved two men?
I closed my eyes and felt a soft breeze.
He was gone.
---
Dave walked through the back door, tiptoeing to our bedroom because I was "sleeping" on the couch.
"Hey," I said, my voice groggy. Did it take nine hours to go grocery shopping for some bread?
"Sorry I'm late, I went out with some buddies."
I got up off of the couch and opened my arms in an invitation for a hug.
He wrapped his arms around me.
I could smell the booze. But that wasn't the only aroma; perfume rippled across my senses.
I ignored it, imagining it had to be a friendly hug from one of the wives of his buddies.
"I love you," he said.
"I know."