It takes me a few days to recover from the embarrassment. In those days, I speak to James when only necessary, and answer his questions with a simple yes or no if I bother to respond at all. He knows I'm upset and he tries to apologize in every way imaginable except for saying the words "I'm sorry." Not that it matters anyway. It wouldn't change anything. I don't think anything can do that.
So, on Thursday morning, after I've called a couple of precincts looking for him, I walk into the one on the other side of town looking for Edward. I'm nervous about tonight, about the confrontation with James, but I figure if I can apologize and make my peace with Edward, it will calm my nerves a little bit.
A man sitting at the front desk looks up as soon as I open the door.
"Can I help you?" He asks.
"Yes, I'm looking for Officer Cullen."
"Can I tell him your name?"
I pause. "Bella Swan."
"Just a sec." He picks up the phone and dials a few numbers. "Hey, Cullen, there's a lady up here asking for you. Says her name is Bella Swan...Alright." He hangs up. "Third desk on the left." He points back to a door and smiles.
I follow his directions and find a large room lined with desks on either side. I find Edward's desk easily, and he's sitting with his back to me scribbling on some paperwork.
"Hi, Bella Swan," he says, never looking up from his desk. I stand there for a few moments, wanting to say so much, but my lips won't move. He finally looks up, leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. "You know the traditional response is 'Hello, Edward' or if you're feeling a little casual 'What up'."
I smile. "What up?"
"Not too much, you know. Crime stopping and all that." He bites his lip and rocks back in his chair. "What can I do for you?"
"I just, uh, wanted to apologize for the other night. It was just awful. Awful." I shake my head, trying to erase the memories. "I'm so sorry."
"He always like that?" He asks.
"No." He's worse.
"You wouldn't lie to me now, would you, Bella Swan?" He cocks his eyebrow and I have a feeling no matter what I tell him, he knows there's more to the story.
"Of course not."
He leans forward and looks down at his desk, doing anything to avoid eye contact. "He's never hurt you physically, has he?"
"No," I say, with confidence. Despite the emotional damage my husband has inflicted on me, he's never hit me.
"I'm sorry to ask, I just deal with a lot of guys with that type of hot-tempered attitude. It seems to be a trend."
"I understand." I nod. "So, friends?" I offer my hand as a peace-offering and he takes it reluctantly.
"I don't want to get in the middle of your marriage, Bella. It wasn't ever my intent. I mean, yeah, you're smoking hot and everything, and maybe if I was the same me I was back in high school, I wouldn't care. But I care now. And that's not me." He smiles. "So just, call me if you ever need anything, okay?"
My heart drops. "I will." I start to leave. "Oh. I forgot." I reach into my purse and pull out a bag of M&Ms.
"Are you trying to bribe a police officer?" He asks.
"Is it working?"
He takes a deep breath. "I'll see you around, Bella Swan."
After I leave, I get a call from Rosalie telling me she'll be at my house around eight. I tell her about the extra key for the back door so she can let herself in.
I spend the rest of the day trying to relax. I take a long bath, read a book, and have a glass of wine before he's supposed to be home. Avoid my cellphone. I'm surprised when I see him pull in a little earlier than expected, just a little before 7:30.
I'm sitting in silence in the living room, my robe wrapped tightly around my body as I warm myself in front of the fireplace. My second glass of wine rests in my hand.
"I want a divorce," I practice over and over again, hoping the rehearsal will make it easier to say when the time comes.
It scares me when he bursts into the house, panting with a frantic look in his eye. When his gaze lands on me, he breathes a sigh of relief.
"You weren't answering your phone," he says.
"Is that an emergency?" I say.
"Today it is." He drops his briefcase, which makes a loud clatter noise against the floor. When he buries his face in his hands, I know something is very wrong. The part of me, the smallest, deepest part of me, that still cares for the man he used to be, hurts for him.
"What happened?" I ask, standing. He rushes over to me and wraps me up in his arms so tight like he's afraid I might disappear. If he only knew what was about to happen.
"I got a call from someone. They threatened me, they threatened you, my entire life."
"Who was it? A client?"
"I don't know. They disguised their voice. They said the most...awful things, Bella. I was terrified."
"Well, I'm fine."
He releases me. "God, I hope they don't take me off this case because of it."
That small piece of my heart, the part that still loves him, dies with that statement. He works for some pretty scary people sometimes and the thing he's most concerned about when they threaten his family is staying on the case.
"Yeah," I mumble.
He heads to the kitchen and warms up some food while I linger in the doorway, sipping my wine. This is it. Our last night like this. Sure, they'll still be hard nights after this is over. There will be times when I'm lonely for someone, but I know now that I'd rather be lonely without him than barely alive with him. And I'm ready to let go.
"James," I start.
"You know, I can't believe someone had the balls to call me like that. I've received a note or two, but nothing like this." He shoves the food into his mouth.
"James," I say again. "I have to tell you something."
He stops. "You're pregnant?"
I think back to all the times I wanted to say those words to him. Now, my greatest joy is that I never got to say them. Not to him. He doesn't deserve to hear them from me.
"No." I force myself to look him in the eye. "I want a divorce."
He doesn't say anything. He doesn't move. He doesn't breathe.
"Did you hear me? I want a divorce." I clear my throat as the tears sting my eyes. I try to hold them in. Stay calm and strong, but this is huge for me. They're not sad tears. They're tears of joy.
"I heard you." He stands and walks to me, standing toe to toe. He's trying to intimidate me, scare me into submission. But I won't. I can't. "Let's go to bed. We'll talk about this tomorrow." He grabs my wrist and tries to pull me toward the stairs.
"No!" I pull it away. "We're not talking about this tomorrow. We're talking about it now. And there is no discussion, James. I'm done. I'm leaving you. And I want a divorce."
He marches toward me and I stumble back into the cabinets, startled by his combative stance.
"You do not get to decide this, Bella. I say when we're done. Not you. And I still want you, so no."
"She said she's done, asshole," Rosalie says, stepping into the kitchen. "And so am I."
For the first time since I've known him, James looks flustered.
"What are you doing here?" He asks Rosalie, stuttering the entire time. He steps back from me, standing almost exactly halfway between me and her.
"Making you pay for what you did to us."
The world starts to move a little slower. I drop my wine glass when I see her raise the gun. It shatters on the floor at my feet, spilling red wine all over. Before I can scream, I hear a loud bang. James shutters, clutching his chest. He turns toward me, his face a twisted expression.
The blood begins to seep out, staining his shirt in a growing pool.
"Bella?" He mumbles. He sinks to his knees and I fall with him, the shards of glass slicing into my legs.
"Rosalie!" I gasp. "Get me a towel!" I put my hands over his wound, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. Rosalie doesn't move. "Rosalie!"
"He took part of my life that I can never get back, Bella," she cries. "I don't owe him any of his."
"He's going to die!" I don't want this. I don't want any of this. It wasn't part of the plan. Now, I can never be free.
"He can't hurt us anymore! Isn't that what you wanted?"
I can't see through the tears. My entire body is numb except for my hands. There, I can feel the hot blood flowing from his chest.
"Bella, listen to me," Rosalie says. Her voice sounds far away, like I'm floating in water. This can't be happening. "The police will be here soon. You're going to tell them someone broke in. You're going to tell them about that phone call he got at work today. And you're going to be fine."
My life is over. They'll find out she did this. They'll tie her to me and think I was involved. Now, I am involved. They wouldn't be wrong. I'm involved in my husband's murder. And in the chaos of it all, my survival instincts kick in.
"You have to shoot me," I say. "In the arm, in the leg, somewhere."
"What?"
I sniffle. "I'll tell them he dove in front of me. To protect me. It'll look better if I have a wound." I can't believe the words coming out of my mouth. That I'm actually going through with this, but I don't have another choice. I feel like I'm at the bottom of a deep well, struggling to stay afloat, keeping my eye on that sunlight up at the top. That sunlight grows fainter and fainter, like I'm falling deeper and deeper into the ground. This is my only salvation.
I look down at James. There is no more blood flowing from his chest. His eyes are wide open, staring blankly up at the ceiling.
"Do it, Rose. Then leave. Get rid of the gun. Don't let anyone see you."
She takes a few steps forward and raises the gun toward my leg. I hold my breath as she pulls the trigger. I feel nothing. Then the most intense sting begins to radiate from my calf.
"I'm so sorry, Bella," Rosalie says.
"Just go," I cry. "Go!"
I cling to James' body as my leg starts to bleed out onto the floor, mixing with his blood and the wine.
I count to pass the time, knowing the police would be here soon. Our neighbors would have hurt the gun shots. They would have called. But as time passes, I feel my body growing weak. I don't hear sirens. I can't reach my phone. And I start to wonder if I made a horrible mistake.
There's more of my blood than I anticipated.I thought they'd be here by now. I reach for a towel and press it against my leg before I slump back against the oven, my limbs feeling numb and heavy as concrete. My eyes fight to stay open, fluttering every few seconds, willing themselves closed.
Only then do I hear the sirens. Far off in the distance. Then, in a flurry of commotion, the police break into my back door and flood into the kitchen.
"Need a bus at 2900 Avalanche Drive. We've got a female GSW to the leg, male GSW to the chest." He reaches down and checks James' pulse. "Scratch that. We've got a DB."
My leg is in so much pain that I can't even cry. My jaw clenches so tight that I think I'm going to break my own teeth.
I wonder if Rosalie got away. I wonder if anyone saw her. I pray that she slid away into the night, undetected.
The paramedics roll a stretcher in and try to ask me questions. My brain is foggy and I don't understand any of them. I try to speak, but I can't. It all comes out in mumbles and jumbles of attempted words.
"We're going to lift you onto this board, okay?" One of them says. My sight goes in and out of focus, but I vaguely register them carrying me to the stretcher and strapping me in. As they roll me out, I look back at James' body. And then I'm gone. Out the back door, past the deck we re-stained this past summer. Past the flowers that I planted in the spring and over the handprints in the concrete that we did when we first bought the house.
The front of my house is mess of blue and red lights, cop cars blocking the road. My neighbors huddle around, their faces a mix of horror and curiosity.
I look up to the sky to avoid their staring. The night is dark and cloudless, the stars bright as ever, even with the lights of the city in the distance.
"Let me through!" Someone screams.
"Your shift is over, Cullen," one of the cops say.
"I don't care!"
Just before they lift me into the ambulance, Edward appears at my side, his face a flurry of panic. "Hey, Bella Swan," he says, softly.
"Hi, Edward Cullen."
He takes my hand and hops into the back of the ambulance as they load me in. "Let's get you fixed up, okay. Everything's going to be alright."
I want to believe him so badly, but I know the truth. Things will never be alright again. Ever.
A/N: O.O
Just a short PSA, I don't condone murder in any circumstance. But I can't say I'm upset he's gone.
Now the big question, how is this going to affect her relationship with Edward?!
Big thank you to Lisa for her consultation :)
