Chapter Eight: Sowing Season
Clenched jaw, ruffled hair, dark focused eyes. He's so beautiful and angrier than I've ever seen him.
He's standing ten feet away and frozen like a sculpture of a warrior in the Louvre. My vision is a tunnel to him and my breaths are still labored. I want to run to him, touch his skin, and smooth the worried wrinkles from his forehead.
Is this real?
He's moving then, backlit by the headlight from his car, his shoes vibrating over the concrete with each step he takes towards me. I feel his approach in my chest, in my soul. His hands find my shoulders at last and my vision may be blurred but he's not. He's perfectly clear and covered in blue light.
"Jesus Christ, what are you wearing?" His voice is ocean deep and his touch leaves me. I reach out with desperate hands and clutch at his uniformed chest. My mouth opens and I think his name but don't make a sound.
Is he real?
"It's freezing out here." His warm breath clouds around us, supporting his claim as his hands pull his jacket securely over my shoulders. It's warm and smells like pine and campfire and Edward.
"Edward." His name manages to float from my lips this time and he shakes his head with a sigh.
"You're drunk." It's not a question. A string of uttered curses follow and he blinks his beautiful eyes hard and grips my wrist too tightly. He's pushing my hand away from him then and motioning to the blaring lights at his back. "Get in the car."
I'm shaking my head but I don't know why exactly. His accusation is truthful. I've never been drunk but I can't deny this weightlessness, this feeling of being out of control. Disappointment colors his face and tears blur my eyes even further.
"Edward-"
"Get in the car Bella." I've hardly ever heard his voice like this, so stern, so laced with ire. His eyes blare down on me, burning my skin for another moment and then they're gone and looking past me.
I don't decide to move but do so all the same. Slow steps trudge over the drive until I'm opening the passenger door and staring through the clouded windshield.
Edward's back is lit bright by the headlights and rigid as stone. He takes several steps forward and then his finger's pointing wildly as he says words I can't hear.
Jake.
I'd all but forgotten his presence when Edward arrived. My stomach rolls remembering the way he kissed me, the way he clutched so tight and groaned into my mouth. I've complicated yet another thing. Eventually I'll have to deal with that but I'm in no position to do so now.
Edward turns, walking quickly towards me with clenched fists and I look past him to the indecipherable look on Jacob's face. I want to read his mind, to dive inside and see where his head is, to know if he's feeling any bit as confused as I am.
Then Edwards shuffling into the driver's seat beside me, slamming his door and causing me to flinch back instinctively. He speaks quickly into the radio without sparing me a second glance. I don't catch the words but I know he's calling for backup, more manpower to break up the house ahead currently swimming with inebriated teens. Ben is going to freak out.
I stare towards Edward a moment longer until I can't take his lack of acknowledgement another second. My eyes fling to the foggy window at my side instead and I run a small finger along the glass as we back down the drive. I see a few people walk past in the night and then I see the rusted orange shape parked against the curb.
"My truck." Edward scoffs and a glance his way tells me he's shaking his head.
"You're in no position to drive that tonight. We'll pick it up tomorrow." He's angry and certainly disappointed. I'm pushing him away already and it feels a lot worse than I thought it would.
"I didn't mean to-"
"We'll talk about this later." He interrupts with his commanding tone.
The car ride home is silent aside from the voices over the police radio and it seems to last for hours. I feel worse with every mile we drive and the objects in my vision start to move and sway unnaturally. This must be the bad part everyone talks about.
When we pull into the drive, Renee's car is gone as expected and the house is dark. I'm out before the engine cuts and I stumble at the sound and spark of a nearby firework. The cool metal of the squad car presses soothingly against my face and even though I need to regain my balance I don't care to move. It's the sound of the engine silencing next, followed by his shoes over pavement and the feel of his hands at my sides. He tugs me towards him and I lean against his body gratefully, pulling his scent in deep and clenching his side and his stomach. I think about the muscles there and the bare skin underneath and moan low in my chest before I can stop. I hope he chalks it up to my drunkenness. It is partially to blame on that but it's also overbearing teenage hormones and the constant effect he has on me.
"Lets get you inside." He doesn't acknowledge the inappropriate noise and I don't look to see his expression. I can hardly move my head at all without a wave of nausea sweeping over me.
We take a few strides forward until we're just outside the door and he's fidgeting with the keys to find the right one.
"Edward." He halts his movements and his eyes are on me. It's a heavy look, one that's waiting patiently for what I have to say but clouded with so much uncertainty. He's right there and when a firework lights up the sky I can see every detail of his face in renewed clarity. He's perfect.
"I'm sorry. " I choke back tears with my apology and then I'm choking back something more until I can't anymore. I push him away just in time and then it's out of my mouth and all over the front of my dress and Edwards jacket and I don't know if I've ever felt more embarrassed in my life.
"Oh god…" I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and then the tears are falling. Even though my stomach feels better everything else feels worse. The world is still spinning before my bleary eyes.
"It's okay, let just-"
"No! It's not okay it's…" I stop short and shake my head back and forth but the words are gone. It's a disaster. It's not okay. None of this is okay.
He doesn't say anything else. Tentative hands remove his vomit-covered jacket from my shoulders and then he's grabbing my arm and helping me inside. Careful steps are made into the house and up the stairs and it take thrice as long as usual and I'm sniffling and breathing deep all the way. By the time we reach the bathroom I'm practically melted into Edward's side and he's holding me up entirely. I'm so tired.
I want a shower and a bed to lie in and like always he knows exactly what I need. A warm damp rag wipes gently over my mouth, face, and hands and then his back is turned towards me as he turns on the shower and adjusts the water.
The stench of my once beautiful dress floats up to my nostrils and makes my stomach churn. I peel it off quickly, not thinking at all about the actions until he turns back to face me and it's pooled on the floor. His green eyes are dark and wide as they rake over my body, covered in nothing more than black underwear. He appears shocked momentarily and then his eyes are away and looking to the light blue walls.
"Bella…what the." He's fumbling for words and shaking his head.
"I'm sorry. I could smell it and-" I move forward a step but stop and trail off as he clenches his eyes tight and I watch him swallow hard.
"Bella you can't-" He sighs loudly and he's running his hands through his hair again. "Just take a shower and brush your teeth and I'll get you some clothes." And then he's sweeping past me, barely brushing against my arm in his haste to exit, and shutting the door behind him with a loud click.
It's rushing water and quick breaths and resounding solitude. I'm all alone again and one look in the mirror only serves to prove how much of a mess I am.
The shower is perfectly warm and washes all the grime and makeup away but doesn't stop me from throwing up again. Twice. I hate alcohol. When I smell less like bile and more like strawberry shampoo I turn the tap off. With freshly brushed teeth and hair I emerge, towel wrapped, to find a set of pajamas sitting on the hall table outside the bathroom door. I dress quickly and pad across the hall to find Edward sitting at the edge of my bed cast in warm lamplight and holding his head in his hands. He's changed into sweat pants and simple white tee and as much as I love the uniform I love him just as much like this.
"Edward." His head shoots up and he looks towards me with tired eyes.
"Feeling any better?" I twist the wet ends of my hair and nod small. Everything is still a bit fuzzy but I do feel better, more in control.
"I'm sorry about before. I wasn't thinking I just-"
"I know. You might be surprised to know that I've been drunk before too." His words are followed by a smile but it doesn't meet his eyes.
"I'm sorry about that too. I shouldn't have." I grimace thinking about the shots and the punch and the repercussions of it all. I want to say so much more but everything's still floating in my head to and fro.
It's quiet for a beat, just the two of us looking at one another. I'm trying to read him and failing and I'm sure he's doing the same with better results. I'm an open book to him and always have been. Even before the accident, he knew me so well.
"I put some water and aspirin on the nightstand and a trashcan by the bed. " He puts his hands to his knees and stands. "You should get some sleep."
Five strides forward and then I'm pulling the covers back and settling in. He flips the lamp off with a quiet 'good night' and takes a single step towards the door before my voice sounds again. "Edward."
He doesn't respond but I see his body turn towards me in the dark. "Stay?" I'm asking too much. It's the opposite of pushing him away and I want it for all the wrong reasons but I don't have the energy to care.
Quiet stretches for a moment and I fear he'll refuse. "Bella." It's a whisper. It's not rejection or acceptance. It's just my name coated in a tone of exhaustion.
"I don't want to be alone." More quiet, more uncertainty. I'm beginning to feel even more pathetic but then he's moving and the mattress dips at my side. He stays in a sitting position, leaning his back against the headboard, always the appropriate gentleman.
"Just until you fall asleep." His hand reaches out in the darkness and I take it without hesitation.
"Deal." And even after everything, I find myself smiling wide into the dark room.
It's the sound of sporadic fireworks and a car turning down the street. It's his breath in the air and my eyes staring towards him and comfortable quiet at last. Minutes tick by and I still clutch at his hand as the room continues to shift in my mind. He is my rock; the thing that grounds me even after everything else is falling apart.
"Why did you go? Tonight I mean. It's just…It's not like you." His words are quiet as he finally asks what's obviously been on his mind. It doesn't surprise me when he chooses now to voice these thoughts. After this year, honesty feels so much easier in the darkness of my room.
I think that but my next response is a lie. "I don't know."
He doesn't respond and I feel the truth surging up my throat. "I just wanted to feel normal."
Another firework and his attention shifts quickly towards me. In the brief flash of light I see his brows draw together, in anger, or confusion, or worry I can't tell.
"Normal? Bella you don't need to be normal. " He pauses and shifts slightly down the headboard to be closer. "You're so much better than normal."
I scoff and shake my head and try to pull my hand away but he won't let me. "It doesn't feel that way."
"How does it feel?" His voice is low and does something to me that it shouldn't. It hypnotizes and draws me in but I don't move. I can't.
"Okay Doctor Phil." It's meant to be humorous but it surfaces as nothing more than a hoarse whisper.
"Tell me." He squeezes my hand and I almost moan again.
"It's so heavy. It sits right here." I motion to my chest with my free hand even though I'm not sure he sees it. " And it's weighing me down, all the time. No matter the amount of progress I make. It's just waiting for me to slip up." It's hard to describe and when the silence stretches on I think I must not have made much sense.
"I understand." He pauses and I know he's thinking over the words carefully. "I know that what you went through is so much different and I'll never truly know but I pass that bridge almost every day and believe me it hasn't gotten any easier." He's closer now, nearly lying down next to me. "But we have to make a choice. This thing happened to us and we can let it define us or we can choose to move on and grow from it." His words are motivational but a part of me screams bullshit until I remember whom I'm talking to. What he says may sound like garbage but he means it wholeheartedly.
"Have you? Moved on…"
"No." He breathes deep and I feel his exhale on my face. "But I want to."
"Me too."
"Then we'll do it together." He says the words but he has no idea how much more it means to me, how much more it complicates things in my mind. Has no idea that he's an overwhelming part of my demons, my struggles. I won't let him fix me because undoubtedly I won't stay strong forever. Eventually I'll slip and he'll know how I feel and he won't want to do anything together anymore.
"Okay." I say it to placate him, to stop this talk of restoration and change. I want so badly for him to be the solution but he can't be.
"You can come to me about anything Bella. I know I didn't react the best when you told us about Ben's party but I'll try to work on it." Another breath fans over my cheeks. "I want you to be honest with me and I'll do the same." He squeezes my hand again and I nod until I realize he can't see.
"Okay."
And then there's a resounding sound and flashes of light. It's the grand finale and one glance to my bedside clock tells me why.
"Happy New Year Edward." I lean forward and in the fireworks' light I see his eyes widen, see the panic surface. He thinks I'll kiss him and for a brief moment I wonder if he already knows what I'm trying so desperately to hide. Aided by the light I find his cheek easily and place my lips gently on the skin just right of his lips. It's soft and everything slows down with the time.
I close my eyes momentarily to relish the feeling and after a beat too long I pull back to find that his are closed as well. His image recedes as I pull back and come to terms with the reality of what this is - A new beginning, a fresh start, a final goodbye. He doesn't know it but I'll make sure this is the last time.
No more will I allow him to comfort me after the storm of my mind sweeps through.
No more whispering in the dark.
I can't let him hold me up forever without dragging him down. After tonight I won't.
I can't.
This is the end.
