A/N: Sorry for the delay but here it is!
Chapter 6: When you try to make a good thing last
8 weeks later
BPOV
I rushed ahead toward the lights, trying not to think of the last time I had been alone, wandering down this same street. The night that changed everything. I could no longer say that that night was a bad memory, even though I didn't remember a chunk of it. Rather, I would always think of that night as the one on which I met Edward. The night I woke up in a hospital and knew I would never let go of his hand, if I could help it. If he would let me . . . I would hold onto him forever.
I flexed my left hand, feeling the tendons in my arm tighten as they tried to get used to no longer being in a cast. I had just gotten my cast off this morning, finally, and Edward and I were meeting up to celebrate. The entire day at work, after my doctor's appointment, I had imagined tonight and Edward and I back together at the same club where we had met. I hadn't felt any panic at returning to the scene of the crime as it were -- just complete elation. I didn't even think about my stiff arm or the tingling I felt as I wiggled my fingers, my arm swinging at my side as I walked faster and faster--to Edward.
And while Edward tried to insist that tonight was about me and finally getting my cast off, tonight was really about him. Tonight would be the first show he played at the club, alone. No Rosalie. No one else's music. Just Edward and a piano and his own music. I was so proud of him. He had been a nervous wreck the past week in preparation, making set list after set list before scrapping all of his plans completely. I'd encouraged him to lay his head in my lap so I could rub his temples and brush his hair away from his forehead-- I just wanted him to relax. He finally drifted off to sleep last night, in this way, his head resting in my lap while I read. When I woke up, he was already at his piano, beaming. We briefly talked and he told me had figured it all out--though it was surprise and he wouldn't tell me anything more--then I was on my way to the doctor and to work right after.
Edward had tried to insist on coming to the doctor with me but I knew I would be fine on my own and the anticipation from spending that extra few hours apart would only build. It was certainly building now, spreading down to the pit of my stomach. Despite the fact that Edward and I were now, truly, together, I still felt a million butterflies, just thinking about seeing him tonight. I felt nervous for him on the stage even though I knew he would be amazing up there, like he always was. I felt anxious to kiss him even though we had kissed hundreds of times by now. It just never faded, the pull between us never wavered no matter what I found out about him or how much time we spent together. I loved him.
Technically, we hadn't said it yet but I knew he loved me, too. Yes, eight weeks sounds like such a short time, and it really is in the grand scheme of things. Obviously, Edward and I had met in a stressful situation. It compounded everything between us and I think we were both scared that meeting like that might make everything between us fleeting. So we were trying to take things slow but even that was difficult. It was nearly impossible to hold anything back from Edward when I knew I loved him like I did and when I felt completely assured that he felt the same way. But somehow, so far, I had.
Sure, we'd spent almost all of our free, waking moments together. I loved to read while Edward played the piano. We would eat noodles together, talking about our respective days-- my legs resting in Edward's lap while we lounged on the couch. It couldn't have been more comfortable and still, with the butterflies. My hand instinctively reached for my stomach as if I could touch those butterflies that now flittered as I smiled in anticipation. Just two more blocks.
I sped up my pace, being especially careful since I was wearing heels and prone to tripping regardless. I wanted to speed up even more but after one heel almost caught in the crack of the sidewalk, I decided not to chance it. Only I would break a bone the same day after getting a cast off--and really, I didn't want to be that predictable. Besides, I thought, glancing at my watch, Edward would still be tuning up right now.
Finally the neon sign of the club was in my gaze . . . I nearly stopped in my tracks when I saw Edward's gorgeous face on his own sign in front of the club. No more small letters for him, no more playing background to Rosalie. This was it: his dream was coming true and he wanted me to share it with him. And for me, there was nowhere I'd rather be than with him, sharing this, tonight.
I nearly licked my lips in anticipation . . . seeing his smiling face-- the face I could no longer live without-- the one waking up next to me every morning. I also couldn't wait to see Edward on this stage again, I didn't even have time to hope that tonight would have a less auspicious ending, because I was too excited to see him up there. No longer would I be hiding in a dark, back corner wishing he would notice me-- waiting for something to happen. No, I'd sit right in front and smile and send him all my love with each glance, with each intake of breath I knew would come as soon as his lovely fingers started playing and I was captivated once again.
I pushed the door open finally, shaking my head to come out of my own thoughts and truly be in this moment. I didn't want to forget anything about tonight.
I stepped inside and it was an odd sensation. Probably, nothing had changed but I had changed.
All the tables were the same, and the inside of the tiny club was as gritty as ever but somehow it seemed even cooler tonight than before.
I looked around again, my eyes gravitating to a table in the front -- the same table at which Emmett sat the night we all met. I squinted at a little, white paper sign on top of the table trying to decipher what it said but it was too far away.
That was the table I'd planned on sitting at and I frowned before moving closer to inspect.
As soon as I was within a few of it, I nearly laughed.
Reserved for Ms. Isabella Swan was proudly written in Edward's handwriting, his messy yet somehow elegant scrawl.
I smiled and looked around for him-- there wasn't much of backstage as evidenced by the times I'd seen Edward and Rosalie perform before, when they would come off the stage and just sit at a table by the bar between sets.
I wondered where Edward was when I didn't see him-- he wasn't near the bar or on the stage and I surely hadn't missed him walking into the club. I was about to turn around when I felt his arms encircle me from behind, his head resting on my shoulder momentarily as he let out a happy sigh and kissed my cheek. I turned just my head to really kiss him, no longer being able to wait another moment.
"Well hello to you, too," he said as I turned around to face him and his arms pulled me closer to him. I giggled from the sheer joy of the moment.
"Hiiiiiiii," I said, my happiness evident in my voice as I leaned over to kiss Edward again.
"How's your arm--did everything go all right today?"
I lifted up my arm to show him the lack of cast and he pushed up my sleeve to kiss the inside of my elbow.
"I've missed you elbow," he said.
I giggled again..."Edward, you've never even touched this elbow before. As I recall, by the time we were ever close enough to touch, I was bruised, bloody, broken and unconscious just outside this club."
"True, but I know your other elbow and it's lovely so I figured this one must match." He said, bending over to kiss my arm again, trailing kisses all the way to my wrist before he held my left hand for the first time. It was bliss.
"I'm still mad at you for not letting me come to the appointment to make sure everything was okay." He said.
"Edward, it was fine--I'm all healed now and you're going to have to stop treating me as if I'm fragile. But enough about me and my arm. We're fine, I promise. But you-- are you nervous?"
Edward shook his head and kissed me again.
"Now that you're here, I'm definitely not nervous. Anxious, maybe . . . but this," he said, kissing me still, "is helping."
I knew how he felt. Ever since Edward and I met, I was immediately calmed by his presence -- the worries of the day always melted as soon as I saw him and even more after we shared that first hello kiss. It was becoming quite the routine. I tried not to think about what tonight could mean--if he went on tour. We would work it out.
"I'm glad you found your table love." He said, taking my hand and gesturing to the chair he had pulled out for me.
I sat down, still holding his hand and looking up at him. He didn't seem nervous, he seemed . . . happy. Which, of course, made me happy.
He looked into my eyes, his smile reaching all the way ther before kissing the top of my head.
"Bella, love?"
"Yes, Edward?"
"Thank you for being here . . . you know that I wouldn't have been inspired to finish all of these songs without you, don't you love?"
"Edward, where else would I be?" I asked, kissing his palm. "You know you inspire me, too."
"I should get up there, I don't want to turn into a prima donna, starting my show late now just because I am finally playing by myself. Will you stay right here, up front, so I can look at you if I get nervous?"
He leaned in for one last kiss . . . and I really had to pull back now even though I didn't want to let him leave.
"Yes."
It was all that needed to be said. He gave me another look, as if he wanted to say something else but then he turned around to walk away and I made myself look anywhere but at him, walking away. It was silly, truly. He was just going to play the piano, not even ten feet away from me, and yet, I felt like something big was about to happen. That we were sort of saying goodbye to something just now—and I had no idea to what.
I tapped my fingers nervously on the table, still relishing my newly freed arm. This distracted me for mere seconds before I was thinking about Edward, again. I had butterflies in my stomach in anticipation of his show. Because I was sitting so close to the stage, I could pretend that we weren't in public—that he was playing only for me. And maybe that's what Edward was pretending as well by asking me to sit up front so he could look at me if he got nervous. I smiled at this thought and I must have looked pretty goofy because suddenly two very meaty hands were waved in front of my face and I turned around to see Emmett and Rosalie.
"Hey Bella, what were you thinking about?" Emmett said, winking at me.
"Shut up Emmett," chimed Rosalie, giving him a dirty look before coming over to hug me.
"Is he nervous?" Rosalie asked, her usual icy stare softened with concern.
"He's okay, actually . . . thanks for asking Rose." I gave her hand a squeeze, grateful for her concern. It was weird—that night had not only brought Edward and I together but, according to Edward, had also mellowed Rosalie a lot. I think it may have had something to do with Emmett, too, but Rosalie had become a great friend over the past two months.
I was just about to respond to Emmett who was now looking at Rosalie with pure worship when I spotted Alice and Jasper entering the room. I waved at them and Alice spotted me immediately, nearly skipping over to us as Rosalie and Emmett turned to see them as well.
Alice and Jasper both hugged me and Rosalie, and Alice even stretched up on her tippy toes to give Emmett a kiss on the cheek. I smiled and, again, I was grateful for that night . . . I couldn't imagine not being as close to them as I was now.
"How's Edward, Bella?" Alice asked.
"I think he's ready . . . he was up first thing this morning with a flash of inspiration and he wouldn't let me hear it but I don't think he's even that nervous--he's ready." I answered.
"He's going to be great," said Jasper.
I let out the breath I had been holding . . . out of anticipation. I was probably more nervous than Edward the closer it got to show time.
"We'll be at this table right behind you, Bella, okay?" Alice asked, grabbing Jasper's hand and motioning for Emmett and Rosalie to follow her.
"I'm going to get a drink before the show starts. Bella, do you want anything?" Jasper asked, looking around at everyone else for their orders, too.
"I'm okay Jasper, thanks for asking." I said, watching him repeat everyone's orders before he went to the bar.
"Okay, guys--I guess I'll talk to you after the show. We're still going to dinner, right?" I asked.
"Hell yeah we are," said Emmett. "I'm already hungry," he said, rubbing his stomach, "and we've got to celebrate."
"Sounds good," I said, watching them sit down before I turned my full attention back to the stage-- and Edward.
He was cracking his knuckles--a nervous habit of his--and looking around the room which was quickly filling up as I glanced around.
Our eyes met and the look he gave me was pure adoration. My heart stopped beating for a minute when he looked at me like that. And then he smiled at me. I smiled back and I hoped I was conveying just one tenth of the smolder that he gave me. He nodded and made his way over to the piano bench.
I turned around one last time and saw that Jasper had returned with the drinks and the club was completely full now.
And then the man who owned the club was welcoming everyone and introducing Edward who didn't hesitate to start playing.
Once again, I couldn't take my eyes off him.
EPOV
I cracked my knuckles for probably the twentieth time tonight. Bella had been trying to break me of the habit but she would always get distracted once her eyes drifted to my fingers.
I was honestly surprised--and humbled--by the crowd filling up the club now. Oddly, I wasn't nervous. I had played in this club countless times with Rosalie and I was ready to play my own music now.
And, regardless of any nerves I might have had, they were erased by pure elation. The song I had been working on for months was finally finished. I had struggled in vain to finish it for so long that I could now hardly believe it was so simple.
It was Bella.
The notes had been playing in my mind since the night we met and I had perfected the melody little by little. Yet the song was still missing something and it had been driving me crazy . . . until last night when Bella fell asleep in my arms. I brushed her hair off her forehead and she mumbled my name. It was like the sweetest breeze rustling through the night and the lilt catapulted me out of bed. I made sure Bella was sound asleep and nearly tripped over my own feet in my haste to reach my piano.
My fingers moved quickly, deftly completing the notes as if the song had always been in my head. It was instinctive . . . my mind's eyes played a movie reel of Bella and her voice inspired my fingers to finish the song.
It was the final key to my show and since I'd finally completed it, all nerves I had about tonight had disappeared.
It also helped knowing that if I did get nervous, any moment of hesitation would be countered with Bella. I could look into her eyes and imagine we were alone, together and I was playing only for her. My music had never come more easily or sounded better since I met Bella--as corny as it sounds, she is my inspiration.
The past eight weeks had flown by with Bella recovering and preparing for this show. I almost felt like something bad was about to happen because everything was fitting together way too perfectly now. All the missing pieces were coming together and I couldn't remember ever being so happy, so at peace.
I looked around the club one last time and caught Bella's eyes. I couldn't have looked away even if I wanted to . . . her stare was so filled with what I could only hope was love. Because if this wasn't love, I didn't know what love was. Although I'd never felt like this before, I couldn't imagine feeling better about someone--I couldn't imagine ever feeling more alive than I did tonight.
The owner of the club made his brief introduction and suddenly my fingers moved of their own volition; I was lost in the music. I was relishing finally playing my own music for the world and yet I was waiting until the end of the show when I would play what I now knew was Bella's song. The song I never would have finished it without her--I felt like it was the best thing I'd ever written.
I couldn't wait to play the song for Bella. It was difficult to not play it for her earlier but I wanted there to be some modicum of surpise. I wanted her to hear my love in every note that she inspired as I played the song. I wanted it to whisper to her like she whispered my name in her sleep.
I didn't rush through the set list I'd carefully planned. I heard the applause in between songs and yet I didn't dare look around; I was in a sort of trance playing my own music. My fingers did all the work as if I wasn't thinking about the song I was playing at each moment; I was still thinking of Bella.
The last song nearly came too soon--was I ready? For the first time that night, I looked up: my eyes automatically narrowed to the table where Bella sat. It was as if no one else was in the room. I wanted to say something to her then--something only she could hear but I had no idea how. Rather, my eyes bore into hers for mere moments and I felt like she understood.
This song is for you.
My fingers started slow, almost stiff, despite playing for nearly two hours at this point and then they reached the first crescendo of the song--the first part perfected after I met Bella. Each note after that seemed to be better than the last. The song was building toward the ending, toward the cluster of notes that Bella evoked from me last night. When I looked up again, I was reminded of the way her little sigh had inspired the completion of the song. And just a brief glance at Bella told me that she knew this was her song.
Then my hands stopped moving, my head bowed as my hands fell to my lap. The applause was near deafening but I was in a bubble in which the only response that mattered was Bella's. I stood and thanked the audience, bowing briefly before I nearly leapt off the stage to meet Bella.
She was already out of her chair then, beaming with a mix of pride and . . . lust?
I kissed her before she could say anything, my fingers pulling her hair slightly so I could trail kisses down her neck.
She bit down on my lip then, nearly hissing.
"Edward . . . in case you forgot, we're in public. Although I have to say, you are very sexy when you play the piano. Very."
I laughed, pulling back so I could look at her. Her eyes were definitely telling me just how sexy she thought my playing had been.
"Did you . . . do you . . . Bella, thank you."
She look puzzled for a minute.
"Why are you thanking me? If anything I should be thanking you -- that was beautiful Edward. I loved the arrangement. But I do have to ask -- that last song? Where did that come from? I've never heard you play anything like it."
"Bella -- did you like it?"
She cupped her hand over my cheek, her thumb stroking my eyebrow for a moment.
"I loved it. Will you play it again, for me?"
I let out the sigh I didn't know I had been holding.
"Bella, you inspired that song -- it, quite literally, is yours...so even if I wanted to, I don't think I could refuse a request from you to hear it again. As it stands, thank you for inspiring it--and I would love to play it for you again."
She blushed then, leaning over to kiss me again. Her fingers rested on my shoulders before she reached over and undid my bow tie.
I laughed. "I thought you liked this tie--you did pick it out, remember?"
"Oh, I love that tie Edward. I'm just ready for the tie to come off--" She turned around and I looked over her head to see Rosalie, Emmett, Jasper and Alice all nearly bursting with laughter.
When she faced me again, her blush was even more furious, spreading down her neck.
I whispered in her ear, "Don't worry love, I'll get rid of them--are you quite ready to leave?"
She nearly nodded, biting her lip as her blush flamed again.
I kissed her forehead before making my way over to the group. I shook Emmett's and Jasper's hands before hugging Alice and Rosalie.
"Thanks for coming guys -- I really appreciate your support."
"Oh Edward, you were wonderful," said Alice and everyone echoed her sentiments.
"I know we had plans for dinner but would you mind if Bella and I took a rain check -- I've been so busy preparing for this show that we haven't spent a lot of time together."
"Edward, I know for a fact that you've spent the last seven nights together, maybe more . . ." Alice chimed in before I shot her a look of pleading.
She shook her head and laughed.
"Fine, I know when I'm going to lose--how about dinner tomorrow night?" She asked, looking around for confirmation from everyone.
"Absolutely Alice, I'll even let you pick the restaurant. You name the place and time and we'll be there--promise." I leaned over to hug her again and say good night to everyone as quickly as possible so I could take Bella home.
"Have fun Edward," snickered Emmett, winking at me.
"Always," I said, shaking his hand again before I turned back to Bella. Her blush had subsided but I could tell she was still embarrassed.
"Are you hungry?" I asked her.
"Not really . . . no."
"Good, we're going to dinner with everyone tomorrow so for the rest of the night, we're free to . . ."
"Take me home, Edward?"
I grasped her left hand then, leading her out of the club. We didn't say anything.
As we walked outside, near the scene of her accident, I felt my hair prickle--I couldn't help but think of that night when I had come so close to losing Bella.
I pulled her in close, but guided her to the exact spot where our lives changed.
"Edward, what . . . why?"
"Just stand here with me for a minute, let me hold you here--I couldn't do that before. That night, all I wanted was to hold you and I couldn't touch you."
She leaned into me, placing her head on my chest while I hugged her even closer, kissing the top of her forehead.
"Let it go, Bella . . . I'm letting it go tonight. We're together now and I'm not sure everything would have happened like this without that moment in time."
She closed her eyes and I stroked her hair for a minute before she looked up at me, the faint lines of anguish I had recognized the past eight weeks were now gone.
I smiled at her. "How do you feel?"
"Amazing--I--how did you know I needed that?"
"Because I needed it, too--nothing has ever been so painful for me as seeing you that night--as being helpless when I saw you lying there."
"I'm ready now Edward. Let's go home." She wiggled her eyes suggestively as me.
"Just one more thing before we leave, Bella -- I hope you, I mean -- the song-- I just need to tell you . . . I love you. This exact spot was where I fell in love with you-- you looked so pale and tiny and I knew then that I would do anything to fix this. I felt crazy that night but since you woke up--since you took my hand at the hospital, my life has never been better. And that's what your song means to me . . . "
She kissed me before I could finish my thought and then I couldn't think about anything but her lips on mine, her body pressed so close to me. She pulled back but I still held her close, my hands on her face and my forehead pressed to her forehead.
"It's about damn time, Edward. I love you, too. And the song . . . the song is perfect."
Fin.
A/N: Thanks to my gorgeous beta Jenn (dictums) for not only my amazing banner but for inspiring me to finish this. I hope you liked the full-circle ending -- please review! I wanted this short little fic to be just like a song-- a moment in their lives with a beginning and an ending at the same spot. It will probably be a few weeks until you see a new story but if you liked this or my other fics, add an alert because I promise another one is on its way. Thanks for all the amazing reviews you guys-- you are the reason I write.