Sweet Retribution
From the ashes, the phoenix rose.
Bella Swan wasn't one to stay down for long. Even when the odds were against her, she would stand up tall, and see it through. This time wasn't any different. She was a woman on a mission and she would strike when they least expect it.
Bella stopped returning Peter's phone calls about a month into her "thing" with Edward. She felt less guilty that way. He would call while Edward was fucking her in his shower, or while she was riding him on the couch, or while she was pinned against the wall and Edward between her legs, and she made sure from then on to turn the phone off before she entered the apartment.
It was only a summer thing, anyways. An unspoken agreement, at least to her. They would fuck during the summer, get their kicks, and would go back to their respective relationships when school started again. She thought it naively cute that Chelsea granted Edward a free vacation away from their relationship, a free pass to fuck around.
At least, that was the way Edward had described it. Either way, he seemed baffled and shocked by how awesome and confident Chelsea was, but Bella knew the truth, saw it when Edward first confessed- Chelsea was allowing him to stray so she wouldn't have to worry for three months. Chelsea was a smart girl.
She decided not to tell him that Peter wouldn't be so understanding about her summer activities.
Bella had fallen back into old routines again. She spent hours over at Edward's place. Dinner, small talk, a lot of sex, some more empty chatter, more sex, and then she would leave. But now, it was less about making it home before her dad woke up and more about just leaving before it all got too awkward.
They joked around like friends, but barely talked about the arrangement. It was something that had just happened, and Edward never rejected her, not once. She loved being touched and being wonderfully sore again. She was less tense. Happier. She didn't care if Edward looked helpless and miserable, she felt free.
Unfortunately, Peter started to call Bella four times in a week. Every message angered her, every message ripped her away from her perfect little bubble of sweat and friction and heat.
"Bella, it's me. Just called because I missed you. Call me back."
"Guess you're out having fun, huh? Working, maybe? Call me."
"It's me, again. Call me? I miss hearing your voice."
"It's me. Call when you feel like it, okay?"
She didn't return his calls, not wanting to be brought back to reality just yet. She ignored Peter's existence completely, smirking at Edward as she peeled her tank top over her head, her body already damp with sweat and her hands shaking in anticipation as his dark eyes burned into her skin.
"You look happy with Chelsea."
Edward stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, focusing on a tiny crack in the plaster. Bella lay next to him on her back, her arms thrown over her head, fingers trailing along the headboard. "I am."
"All the time?"
"Most of the time," he paused, hating where this conversation was going. He preferred the small talk, the raspy promises to fuck his brains out, the whispered pleas of harder, faster. It kept him from thinking. "You look pretty happy about Peter, do you want to talk about that a little bit?" he snapped, shooting her a glare. "I'm dying to know what you fucking see in him."
Her lips pressed together tightly, and she brought her arms down, crossing them over her bare chest. "No. We're not talking about that."
He rolled his eyes. "Big surprise."
"Shut up. Jealousy doesn't look good on you."
"Yeah, well, it looks fantastic on you."
Bella was silent for a moment, gazing at the ceiling. "Do you regret what happened with us?" she asked, her voice gentler now. More open.
Edward felt his wall crumble ever-so-slightly, and he sighed, refusing to look at her. "Sometimes I wish I had done things differently. Do you?"
"No."
He nodded, allowing the sting to pass. She would never change, and he hated himself for still being so drawn to her. Maybe even still in love with her. He fucking hated her. "Of course not."
Her jaw clenched slightly. "It doesn't mean I didn't miss you. But I don't regret what I did."
His brows furrowed at her sudden defensiveness. "Well, I'm not sorry. Not anymore."
"Why?"
"Because I can't change it," he said quietly, almost coldly as he readied himself for the blow he was about to deliver. "And Chelsea is in the picture now. Regardless of what happened between us, and what I feel or felt for you...I got a second chance. Chelsea's my second chance and I'm not going to screw it up after this summer."
She laughed faintly, refusing to let his words break her. It was so harsh, so final. Even though she had assured him they were through, she herself had hoped for a reunion, someday. Now, he was dealing low blows. In bed, no less. "What if you're just making the same mistake again?"
"I'm not."
"How do you know?"
"I can feel it. It's going to be better this time," he said it with more confidence now, finally turning to face Bella. He wanted to see her face for this. "She's going to be my second chance."
Bella turned her head slowly, meeting his gaze head on. "I think you're wrong," she said icily, her voice shaking. "Wrong. I think we're both meant to be miserable."
His eyes narrowed. "How do you know?" he muttered.
Her smile was bitter and cold. "Well...you're naked in bed with me. Not her."
Edward rolled his eyes, rolling on his back once more and refusing to admit that she had a point. "Fuck you, Bella."
Slowly, she slid over to his side, smiling as her mouth opened and fell on his chest, her tongue circling his nipple. His breath hitched, and she sucked harder. She loved their own special brand of foreplay. The insults, the anger. Even when they were actually fighting, it was hard to beat that rush.
"I love you too, Edward," she whispered against his skin, her smile growing when his hand buried itself in her hair.
"I miss you."
Edward finally returned Chelsea's calls, just because of those three words left on his voicemail. She sounded tired, like she hadn't slept in a bit. "What's up?"
She laughed faintly. "Daddy's got me riding horses again...and taking care of them. Needless to say, I'm not twelve anymore and it's not so much fun."
He smiled slowly. "Speaking of fun, are you having any?"
"Yes. My family's not so bad, when we're not talking. What about you?"
"I'm having a lot of fun."
"Good..." she trailed off, and her silence alarmed Edward. "Alice said she hadn't seen much of Bella. Have you seen her?"
The truth. Nothing but the truth. "Yeah."
Chelsea's silence was deafening. Finally, she laughed, and it was nervous. "I know we said don't ask, don't tell with this break, but..." she sighed. "Are you and Bella-"
"No!" The denial was too quick, too loud, and he cringed. He should've told her the truth. He should've been honest and now, there was a lie. A big, fat lie between them.
He didn't want to lie, but their last night just stuck in his head, when she first asked about Bella. Chelsea was insecure. He couldn't disappoint her. He didn't want to see the light fade from her eyes, like Bella. He didn't want to hurt her. "We just hang."
She let out an obvious sigh of relief. "Oh! Good! That's good," she laughed faintly. "That's good because she's with Peter and-"
Edward closed his eyes, running his hand over his face. "Tell me about your horses," he muttered.
