Hello all!
Thank you for the reviews, story alerts and 'favoriting' the story. For an obsessive email checker like me, each one is treat. I hope you all continue to deliver your opinions, and I wish more silent readers will let me know their thoughts this time. Oh, and thank you so much to those of you who have reviewed every chapter of this story, the reviews totally make me ecstatic.
Once again, this story involves abuse and assault. Heavily. I will try my best to ensure that related chapters do not become overwhelmingly graphic. Please consider yourself warned, the topics are controversial and may be offensive to some.
Thank you to PTB members PunkyBumpkin and a second beta (who forgot to leave their name) for their help with all my errors and for providing very useful suggestions. A big, big thank you to OTD673 who pre-read the chapter in the morning and gave me such quick feedback, and who never complains when I constantly ask for help.
So here's the next chapter.
Chapter 7 – Farewell
Time froze. Scratch that, I was frozen.
Still on my tip toes, I held my breath as Edward looked at me in stony silence. The anger refused to dissolve from his eyes, the green unblinkingly holding me.
Oh please, God, make me disappear. I promise I'll go to church every Sunday.
The cigarette was raised slowly. Only to be abruptly dropped to the floor. His shiny, pointy, black shoes rose before coming down, effectively putting out the burning ember. Not once did his eyes leave mine. His fists curled up as he exhaled heavily, closing his eyes yet again.
Only this time I was the cause of his distress.
"You shouldn't be here."
No shit.
He spoke firmly, but the hidden tinge of concern made me feel like a misbehaved child. His glower, punctuated by his height, made me feel smaller…more pathetic.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled, chastened, looking down at my feet, unable to hold his gaze.
"You didn't look like the type," he murmured, his voice getting quieter, losing its harshness.
"I didn't…I mean, I just…," I stammered, feeling as though I was at a loss as to how to handle the situation. I still couldn't gather the courage to look up and face the disappointment directed at me in full force by his expressive beams.
"It's fine," he said dismissively. "Did you need one?"
What?
My confusion made me raise my eyes to his. He held a white box to me. A cigarette box. An emotionless "I don't care what you do" expression etched on his face. My feet involuntarily moved me back, shock increasing the distance between me and him.
Shaking my head, I said, "No, thank you. I don't smoke." I anxiously clasped my hands in front of me, nervously licking my lips, pointedly looking at his forehead.
His raised his eyebrows disbelievingly before gazing at me speculatively."Then what are you doing here?" Authority clouded his voice.
I looked down again, ashamed of my behavior. Mentally, I answered, I'm spying on you and am currently on the run, saving my life from the she-devil and her red claws.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you," he tried to say calmly but his voice betrayed him, screaming frustration.
Gingerly, I looked at him, blushing like a fool. He was glaring at me, just like the first time we had crossed paths. Well, I had crossed his path and head-butted him…And just like the first time, I was caught in a spell. His ferocity only made him more beautiful. Like a burning, bright fire in the darkest of nights.
He pointed his chin in the direction of the exit I had taken. I glanced back to find a large sign with "SMOKING AREA" painted in large, red letters.
In my defense, it was dark…
"I guess I didn't see that," I said, looking back at him.
"No, I assume you don't see a lot of things," he replied, eyes crinkling and looking down with mirth. It was then that I discovered that Edward used his eyes more than those curvy lips to smile. An eye smiler…
In response, I just shrugged, embarrassed. My red cheeks possibly matching my nose.
Edward leaned back, letting his elbows rest on the railing. He lazily gazed at me before his eyes zeroed in on my nose.
"What happened to your nose?" he asked, leaning in closer to get a better look, my heart buzzing a frantic beat. Interest being the predominant emotion his face gave away, concern a close second.
Think, you fool! Think!
I bit my lip trying to come up with a sensible excuse. I wanted to bang my head on the damn glass door to thrash and throw all my tongue-tiedness out the window. I blurted out the first thing that struck my mind. As usual, my mind failed at the first sign of emergency management.
"I ran into one stall at the washroom."
Dear God, if you are still considering my proposition, you're getting very late. Hurry!
Edward pressed a pale, strong fist against his mouth. Lavender lids closed over his brilliant green beams. He closed his eyes a lot, I noticed idly.
The wind whistled while Edward rested his eyes. I looked down at my hands, growing more nervous by the pin drop silence. He was in a world of his own, giving me a chance to observe him boldly. His eyes were scrunched up in what looked like an effort to calm his breaths. Two horizontal deep lines distorted the skin of his forehead. Tense waves of pale skin curled above his bronze eyebrows, which were drawn to each other tightly, transforming his face into a troubled expression. Edward's eyes flickered open, meeting mine from under his lashes, a look that pulled me a few footsteps closer. He raised his face completely and uttered a single word.
"Bullshit."
Perfect word to describe my evening.
My eyes widened, taking in Edward's sudden use of brash language. Edward straightened out, adopting his former body language. The tense persona. The no-nonsense frame.
"Do you have a ride home?" He demanded harshly. His towering body moved closer, invading my personal space, making breathing evenly the hardest thing on this planet. The ice in his glare implored me to answer honestly.
I shook my head quietly, muted by his implausible fury.
He spun around, traipsing his way to the glass doors while I stood rooted to the ground. He stopped a few steps short of the doors. He turned his head slightly, acknowledging me yet not looking at me, body still angled forward.
"You coming?"
"Where… are we… going?" I half-stuttered, taking deep breaths midway.
Please, not there. I'm not ready to go back just yet.
What had slipped by me unconsciously was my instinctive confirmation that there was going to be a "we" tonight.
"Let's get you home. I think you've had enough for one night," he said quietly, his mature tone drilling in the fact that he was, as a matter of fact, ten years older than me. Age, indeed, had more subtle ways of showing itself.
He made it sound so easy. A quick elope, an easy escape. The relief, though quick, would be short-lived. Monday morning, Mrs. Mallory would be the judge in my court, and the decision would undoubtedly be the worst penalty. Leaving tonight would shun my role as a responsible employee. As much as I wanted to say "yes," I was bound.
Bracing myself, I said with conviction, "No, I can't. I need to be here; it is a part of my job."
A flash flew through me, making me catch my breath. It was Edward's haunted, disappointed look when I had declined his offer for a lift.
I was firm on my rules tonight; there were no two ways. I was doing the right thing by staying back. Or, at least, that's what I was trying to convince myself of.
My decision felt unsteady as the ghosts of the earth shattering music down the hallway played in my ears, the fake chortles joining it. The accompanying imaginary smell of sweat and alcohol stung my nostrils.
You can do this! You have done it before, only a few more hours left.
"Still contemplating?"
I looked up to see Edward leaning against the red brick wall, one leg propped against it to support him. I didn't know what to say, so I simply stuck to the safer option. I chose truth.
"Yes," I admitted, ashamed to even consider making a run for it.
"You're already breaking the rules," he said softly. The softness was deceptive; it sounded almost… personal to him, as if he was talking of his own set of rules.
Seeing the confusion clearly on my face, he continued, "This", he waved his hand around us, signaling to the porch, "is not part of the party. You are not in the hall."
His tone was not accusatory, it was only a matter of fact way of addressing a situation. I sadly realized how right he was; I was seeking refuge here. Whether I went with Edward or spent the rest of night here, the outcome would be the same: I wasn't attending the party.
"Either way, you won't be attending the party," he said, reiterating my thoughts.
Staying out here or leaving both counted as false appearances. Decision made, I turned to Edward.
"Lead the way."
Edward didn't say anything or smile, he simply held his hand out. Without waiting for a second, I grasped it tightly with my own, letting our palms connect and the charge hum though my veins. He glided purposefully out through the glass doors, all the while keeping my hand tightly clasped in his large, warm one, his steps guiding mine.
The distinct feeling of stepping out of a fairytale took over my senses.
It was magical.
A handsome prince led me to the palace's doors, the lights twinkling around me representing the ancient lanterns winking me best of luck for a new life. The hotel's staff bowed in respect before opening the doors to a "happily ever after".
I knew I was playing with fire but I couldn't find it in me to stop anymore. It didn't seem dangerous anymore.
When we stepped outside to wait for his car to arrive, I pretended to not notice how the lapels on his jacket flew open by the wind, revealing his fit physique. Or how the sweet breeze shuffled his bronze feathers into the most delicious, tangible mess.
That's when it hit me. We were running away together from the hideous party.
Why, that sneaky…
So I was giving him the excuse he needed to leave. I looked at Edward sideways at the same time I caught him looking at me. We both pretended to cover up by looking the other way. Awkwardly, we both looked back sharing a short, shy smile.
The valet brought a black Aston Vanquish rather than the Volvo I was anticipating. The sleek black exterior shone in the moonlight, making me want to reach out the run my fingers along it to feel the cool metal. My carriage for tonight had arrived. Only the frilly curtains were replaced by smooth, tainted windows.
Edward let go of my hand to move forward and open the passenger door. I clenched my hand to overcome the distinct feeling of emptiness…of coldness. He held the door open ushering me into the car before moving around to take his own seat.
"Thanks for tonight," I began, trying to make small talk.
"Don't worry about it. You looked like you could use some help." he said smoothly, turning his head while reversing the car. After pulling onto the road, he kept his attention focused ahead.
Yep, definitely not the conversationalist.
A heavy silence settled in the constraints of the car. Edward seemed nonplussed, completely focused on driving. I, on the other hand, kept my attention on his breaths, trying to hide my loud breathing by keeping pace with him.
He couldn't even ask me where to; he already knew. I wanted to turn up the radio up but Edward didn't look like the kind of guy that would enjoy my funky grooves. Not like I would demonstrate my awe-inspiring skills here.
Dancing to music was always so liberating when things got tough.
I had always been at a disadvantage when it came to dancing. The failed attempts to polish up my foot-body coordination were reflected in the number of bruised toes Jazz had accumulated over the years. Regardless, it was very lame to think that I practiced dancing with Jazz on jazz. We invented our own silly steps that never seemed to be in sync with the music; rather, we were very off beat.
Either way, it always pulled him out of his occasional sour moods. It took one angled twist of my hip and Jazz would fall off the sofa, laughing hysterically. After which he usually rolled around on the carpet, reminiscent of a dog. Jazz called me "Jazzy B."
It would be funny watching the serious Edward taking me in my jazzy glory. I snorted in amusement at a possible expression, all wide, bulging eyes and gaping mouth. That got Edward's attention, and he shot me a quizzical look.
"So you're from New York?" I hastily asked, scolding myself for my unladylike behavior.
"Yes," he murmured, distracted.
"How long before you return?" I asked, genuinely curious. I had seen him so often in the little while I had known him. I suspected he would be here for another two to three weeks.
"Two days," he said, a faraway look in his eyes. "Just two days," he repeated, his voice hardly a whisper.
Two days…that's it.
The delight of my prior thoughts faded as a deep misery took its place.I would never see Edward again after two days. Period.
This could possibly be our very last meeting in this lifetime. Our worlds were separate, a fact now adamant on proving itself. There would be no more confusing encounters, no strange feelings, no unsettling tugs floating across the air. There would be no charge. No excitement. He was going, taking it all with him.
He would be gone in two days. Two days.
Two days was all we had left.
And we wouldn't meet after unless we had another one of those coincidental encounters which had occurred quite a bit in the past few days. Imaginary forces kept trying to push us together again and again, but I couldn't understand their motives. It seemed liked a sign, but try as much as I did, I couldn't understand what it was pointing to.
Tonight was the last night. It was time to say goodbye.
I glanced at Edward, seeing a brooding stare focused forward. This was what was eating at him. Maybe something was holding him here, something pivotal. I couldn't fathom what a place like Seattle could hold for such a well-established New York-based entrepreneur.
I looked outside, trying to lose myself in the scenery that flew by. It was a poor effort; the feeling of dread settled in the pit of my stomach, pulling my heart and mind into dark depths. I pressed my fingers to my temple, trying to distract myself. My heart thumped loudly, refusing to keep quiet. My body didn't want to listen today. I fingered my silver chain, tugging it, twisting it.
Relax, Bella. He is no one. He never will be.
That's what the problem was: he was someone. I hated goodbyes, hated the way my chest contracted around my torso to protect my heart as it wept tears. I didn't want to say goodbye.
Cowards ran away. Companions stayed back.
Renee was a coward.
But today my mind wouldn't let me believe Edward was one of them. The elemental connection refused to let me believe. I subtly rubbed my chest, trying to shut out the pain when my heart squeezed.
He was going. He was going.
The line played on and on in my mind like one of those horrible grinding machines that just wouldn't shut up, the shrill, cutting noise effectively slicing all other sensations. I rocked back and forth slightly as I began to feel light-headed. I pressed my palm to my clammy forehead before pressing it to my mouth to stop the shuddering gasps I wanted to suck in.
In my befuddled state, I recognized the board. Alpine Street West. It was time. Time to say "hope you have a good life". Time to let destiny separate our paths.
Moisture collected in my eyes. I looked at the ceiling as I always did to stop them. I had never been more thankful for the darkness. My throat hurt by the sudden tightness; I roughly pressed into the fabric of my dress trying to alleviate some of pain.
Deep breaths, Bella.
One tear escaped. Another followed it before they were all freely washing down my cheeks. I wiped my cheeks furiously with the back of my hand, all the while trying to breathe evenly. My chest burned with the lack of oxygen.
Stop making a scene.
Edward silently held out a tissue box, still looking up front. I gratefully took the whole box, setting it down on my lap before noisily blowing my nose into one after the other.
This was such a bad idea. Edward must be disgusted.
Edward acted as a gentleman and did not utter a single word, pretending not to notice my lush red nose.
The car came to a stop, my heart right beside it. Edward turned the car off, holding his hands still on the steering wheel. I didn't know what was louder: my heartbeat or my breaths. My eyes remained trained on his profile, hungrily gulping down all the details my human eyes could.
Edward turned to me before saying, "You've had a hard day. It's getting late, you might want to go inside."
He moved out of the car, making his way to my end before holding the door open for me, looking at me with dark, sad eyes. I was struck once again by how expressive his eyes were.
I guided myself out and Edward's hand instinctively went to touch my elbow. Seeing me upright, he pulled his hand away instantly, quickly looking down at the floor. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, hunching forward, looking like a teenage boy.
I knew I had to say something, but my mouth wouldn't open.
"It's been a pleasure meeting you, Bella," he said, his voice radiating sincerity.
I nodded, unable to speak as more tears pooled. He took my hand, graciously bowing down giving it a swift, warm kiss.
"Goodbye, Bella," he said, despair masking his face and voice.
I said with my eyes what I couldn't say with my mouth. Farewell. I turned around, my feet heavily dragging me forward.
"Wait!"
I stopped, quickly facing him.
"What are you doing this Sunday?" he asked, hesitantly.
We are down to small talk now?
My lips, formerly glued, opened of their own accord, my voice determinedly floating out.
"I'm going to be working at the flower shop at Woodsworth Avenue," I said as I recalled my conversation with Angela Weber.
Angela and I had known each other since high school. She had moved to Seattle and owned a small flower shop. Unfortunately, she couldn't afford the high tuition of university and didn't want to take a student loan. Her boyfriend, Ben, had asked her to spend a day with him out of town at a beach, but she couldn't close her shop on weekends when she had so many customers come in.
"Angela, I can't! Oh please, spare my weekend. I love my weekends."
"Please Bella! I am begging you, it's just for one day…"
"Ange, I don't even know flower names. I would be a pathetic attendant!"
"I'll give you a catalogue stating the names, but I doubt you will use it. Most customers just point to the flowers. Please Bella, don't say no. If Ben proposes, I promise you will be my Maid of Honor!"
Who could have resisted such an offer? I had thought sardonically, especially a person like me. After 15 minutes of groveling by Angela and a couple of "Nos" by me, I had finally given in, sacrificing my weekend.
"Oh, that's great," Edward mumbled, pulling me back to the current situation.
"Yeah, I guess it is," I said, trying to come to terms with the strange conversation.
Edward looked up suddenly, all bright eyes. He had an idea. I'd bet my life on it.
"I have a family party in the evening. Would you mind if I dropped by to pick some flowers for my mother?" he asked expectantly, almost eagerly. His hands were behind his back as he waited for my answer, slightly leaning forward.
"Sure, the more customers the better, right?" I joked, but my joke fell flat along with Edward's face.
"Yes, that's true," he said, his face as crestfallen as his voice.
Conflicted between staying and running to the secure confines of my apartment, I said, "I guess I'll see you then."
Edward's expression lifted slightly. He gave me a small lop-sided smile that made him look like an adorable, mischievous child up to no good.
Why is all this so confusing? And why is he so mercurial?
"Bye."
"Goodbye, Edward. Thanks for tonight, again." I smiled, shifting from one foot to another.
"No problem. Always glad to be of service."
We stood for a while longer, shyly smiling at each other. Edward's hands dug deeper in his pockets as he alternated looking from me to the floor.
Eventually, Edward leaned back on the car, looking down at his watch. "You need to go in now, Bella," he said, laughter evident in his eyes.
I blinked, flushing all over and trying to get a grip on my "dazeiness." "Right," I mumbled incoherently, rushing to the doors of the building. I paused at the doors turning to look at Edward. Still leaning on the car in his lanky build, he looked like he was starring in an advertisement endorsing the car…or him.
Snap out of it!
I lifted my hand in a half-wave, feeling like an idiot because I knew he wouldn't reciprocate. To my surprise, he did with a very suave glide of his own, seeming embarrassed as his cheeks tinted a light pink and he pulled his collar from his neck, a nervous gesture.
You've got to be joking. Edward Cullen's blushing?
I quickly made my way inside before he would be forced to remind me my destination. I all but breezed through the lobby, dancing in silly exuberance, swinging my handbag over my head like a cowboy.
The moment didn't last too long. My balance made it a point to be noticed as my foot slipped, sending my handbag flying. I watched in horror as my bag collided in the most spectacular way with face of the old watchman who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. The blow set his glasses off for a touch-down.
Oh no!
Mr. McAdams was quite…grouchy, for the lack of a better word. At 65 years of age, he was always in a bad mood; morning or night, winter or summer, the same bitter face colored with age-lines remained. Squinting eyes behind his antique frames glared at every passing person. He was a buzz killer, short and simple.
Now, he glared at me.
Why is this happening to me? Just great, keep testing your skills, Bella.
"I am so very sorry, Mr. McAdams." I apologized repeatedly, profusely, as I made my way to his frames, picking them up. I inspected them for damage and was exceptionally pleased when I found no cracks or breaks.
"Here you go," I said as I held the glasses for him to take. He stared at me sourly, his squinty, angry eyes focused on me. He snatched his glasses back.
"You kids come parading here whenever you feel like," he coughed, his voice sounded scratchy from disuse, "as though it's your own house."
Well, technically it is my own "house."
I chose not to voice my thoughts, deciding he didn't have the patience to deal with me now. I quietly slipped out while he held his specs in front of him, looking for minute faults.
Buzz killer.
I entered my apartment, drained from the day. I collapsed on the sofa, kicking off my shoes before stretching out my legs and wiggling my toes. I opened my arms, resting them on the arm rests. It felt so good.
There was no sign of Jazz, adding to the peace and quiet. I remembered I had to call Angela to remind her to bring the catalogue on Sunday morning.
Must all good things end?
Stretching out, I made my way to the phone.
Half an hour later, I was still on the phone. Angela was going over the likes of some regular when I heard the door open.
"My lovely! Where are you?" Jazz called, and then started making stupid kissing sounds. "I miss you! I miss you! Come out wherever you are!"
I rolled my eyes at his foolish antics. On the other side of the line, Angela was giggling like a four year old.
"That's Jazz, I have to go. Drop the catalogue at my place before you leave in the morning."
"Sure thing. Thanks for doing this, Bella. I really do appreciate it," she said between giggles.
"No problem. Enjoy yourself while you're at it. Good night!"
"Good night and sweet dreams." I closed the phone at the same time Jazz burst in.
"You're home early!"
He fell on his knees with a love-struck expression and opened his arms. I threw the cordless phone at him and he caught it and held it close to his heart.
"A token of love," he said reverently. I rolled my eyes at him and walked out of the room to fix him some dinner, knowing he wouldn't have eaten yet.
"So how did it go? And will you tell me now?" he asked, catching up with me.
"I don't want to talk about it now. Maybe tomorrow," I said firmly, not wanting to go into the story of the night.
"Okay," he agreed, sighing happily.
"Why the sudden excitement?" I inquired while I prepared him a turkey sandwich.
"I am going out with Alice on the weekend," he said airily. "She said 'yes'!"
He grinned and started dancing around the room like a careless clown. I watched him as he jumped onto our favorite sofa and then pretended to play an air guitar making me chuckle at his childlike enthusiasm. He was down right cute when he was so happy.
Boys.
"Wow! What was she thinking? The beast is about to be unleashed!"
Jazz just grinned, frantically nodding his head, looking like a puppet on display. "Oh, yes!" he exclaimed and pumped his fist into the air.
With that, we started laughing and fell into our comfortable routine of having dinner together. Even if it was 2 in the morning.
A/N: How did that go? Above or below expectations? What do you think will happen on Sunday? Let me know by clicking on that lovely Review button.
So the next chapter is a big turn in the story, almost monumental. We are pretty much done with the background.
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