TO THE LIGHT

CHAPTER 7

"How did you know where I work?" I ask.

"Um, it was the closest bank... so I just assumed..."

"Oh."

"Did I frighten you? I'm so sorry if I did," he says his eyes tight and worried.

"No, you just startled me. And you can stop apologizing now."

"Oh yeah, I'm sor - " Edward says before he laughs and squeezes his eyes shut. "I'll try to stop."

"I'm the one that needs to apologize."

"No, Bella, you have nothing to apologize for. I'm the one that forced you into that situation. You clearly told me you didn't want to go see the bookstore but I pushed you and insisted and-"

"I was uncomfortable."

"I know," he says guilt splashed across his face.

"But you didn't scare me off."

"I didn't?"

"No. It's just that I... I have..." I say, clenching my fists by my sides as I briefly turn my attention to people scuttling past.

"Do you have a boyfriend? I noticed you didn't have a ring," he asks startling me. My eyes dart to his. "I don't mean to be intrusive..."

"No, it's okay, it's just..." I say, my brows knitting together, "um... no, no boyfriend."

The word feels strange on my tongue.

Closing his eyes, he nods. "I knew you didn't," he mumbles before his eyes pop open. "I mean I thought you didn't. I mean that's good, great actually," he says with a laugh before looking in the direction of the bus stop. "We'd better get going or we're both going to be walking home tonight."

We arrive just as the last two people are boarding.

The bus is packed so I can't squeeze my way to the back like I want but I get about half-way. I find a spot and grab onto the railing firmly - my body a tight wire - before I swivel around to check Edward's position. The wire snaps and my body relaxes when I catch sight of him standing towards the front. His gaze is on me, though, lips upturned as he tilts his head in my direction. Turning back, my eyelids shut and I lean heavily against the railing.

The bus grumbles to life and I sway back and forth as it begins its route. I force my gaze out the window, but all I want to do is look at Edward. I can feel his stares on me, beckoning me, but I refuse to give in.

Stops come and go and seats open up, but I remain standing, glued to my spot. My stomach growls loudly, reminding me that I didn't eat lunch as it flips uncomfortably. His stop is next and I know I have to turn around, at least to say goodbye. I prepare myself to speak and try to swallow but have to work hard at it due to my parched mouth.

I turn and jerk all over when I find him standing directly behind me.

"Oops," he says laughing. "I would say I'm sorry but you told me not to."

Quick pants leave my mouth as I try to tame my runaway heart.

He glances out the window and back at me. "I have to go, but I'll see you in the morning, right?"

I nod.

"Bright and early. Keep smiling, Bella, because your smiles are beautiful."

His words bring one to the surface, even though I know I'm not beautiful, and he gifts me with one in return.

The bus grinds to a stop and I hear the doors open.

"Goodnight," he says softly before trudging down the aisle.

I stay standing and watch him until he disappears from sight before I collapse into a seat. Curling into myself, I rest my head against the window and watch the dark shapes go by, nothing in focus, just a muddy mirage. I'm exhausted. My thoughts are in shambles as I try to grasp and decipher the disjointed fragments of Edward's words that flit through my brain.

As the bus moves closer and closer to my destination, I fall from my high as reality sets in. I'm headed back to my lonely apartment, my exile. Edward's words, the excitement, the smiles he pulled from me that were attached to my heart with a string - all of it collapses with a snip from a sharp blade.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I retrieve it and sigh. I have ten missed calls and twenty-three texts from her. From my mother.

I delete all of them without a glance and turn my phone off.

My stop arrives and I exit the bus. A blast of air plows into me, sharper and more bitter than normal and I have to fight my way to my apartment. Oliver almost trips me, talking up a storm, quite the conversationalist this evening. I pick him up and stare into his furry face covered in orange, black and white before I hug him close.

I fix myself a sandwich and pick at the bread. I need to make my phone call that I make three times a week, but I don't want to.

I stare at my phone for a while. I honestly don't even want to touch it. I don't know how long I sit there before I finally rub my thumb over the dark, glass surface, thinking. I hate doing this. I hate that I hold onto this useless hope that gets shattered every single time, but I need to be strong. For Dad. I can't give up no matter how much I want to. Dad needs my strength even when I'm at my weakest.

I turn the phone on and dial the number.

The phone is answered and Irina gives her usual greeting.

"Hey, Irina, it's Bella."

"Hey, Bella. How're you doing?"

"I'm good. How is he?"

She sighs. "About the same. He's been pacing the floors today."

"For how long?"

"A couple of hours but Laurent got him settled and he's doing good now. He's watching some TV."

I wish I could talk to him. I wish he knew who I was.

"Tell him I love him, okay?"

"I certainly will and he knows you do, Bella."

We say our goodbyes and I sit stoic for a while. It's like all of my emotions have been drained from my body, like I have nothing left. Like I'm just a pile of flesh, blood and bone. Nothing more.

I stare off into space listening to my breathing and trying to keep my mind clear but this profound sadness comes over me. It's ruthless, biting.

I sit on the sofa, pull my legs to my chest and wrap a blanket tightly around me and think about Edward. I still can't believe he showed up at my work like that, so worried, when I was the one that ran out on him.

You know why you ran.

Grabbing my head, I squeeze my eyes trying so hard to shove the thought away, scratch it, yank it from my mind but I can't stop it.

"So, you're the pretty girl from the bus..."

I double over as a knife-like stab hits me in the gut. I've heard "pretty girl" occasionally from customers over the past two years and every single time, I've had to run to the bathroom as a panic attack ricocheted through my body. Those two words are my biggest trigger. They slam into me every time and remind me of that awful day. The day I've replayed a million times in my head. The day I've begged and pleaded with God to let me repeat. The day I caused the destruction of everything I loved. The day I brought hell onto myself.

Holding my stomach and rocking back and forth, I shout, "What are you doing?" to the silent room.

I don't need an answer. I know exactly what I'm doing. I want Edward's smiles, I want Edward's words, I want so many things that I shouldn't want.

I want things I don't deserve.

Things I will never deserve.