Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
The silence between us at the diner while we eat lunch is anything but comfortable and I can feel you looking up at me with questions in your eyes as I war with myself in my head.
Who was she?
A wife?
A girlfriend?
What happened to her and why was her picture still there? What did she still mean to you? I wonder if I'm just a replacement for her, or a rebound. Is what's happening between us even real? I find myself questioning everything that has happened in the past few days? And the house, that house that had seemed so perfect for me, did you build it for her?
"Bella?" you ask, breaking me from the seemingly endless list of questions and doubts.
I look up at you and you're frowning at me, a small cross between your brows and your mouth turned down at the corners. Even frowning, you're most stunning man I've ever laid eyes on.
"Yeah?" I ask, looking down at the soup that I'd barely touched, afraid to meet your gaze and give away the panic in my eyes.
"Are you okay?" you ask and I frown because I hate that I've made you upset.
"I'm not really feeling well." I whisper, lying to you for the first time in my life.
"Do you want me to take you home?" your voice is concerned and I want to cry for both lying to you and for making you sound this way.
"Yes please," I reply quietly, my voice hoarse enough that I actually sound ill.
You pay for the lunch that I don't think either of us really ate and we make our way out to your car, driving in silence for the second time and I wish that we had never left my bed this morning; we could have just stayed in the bubble.
When we arrive back at my house, I see you open and close your mouth at least three time before you turn to look at me, your green eyes staring straight through mine and you look regretful and I want to wipe away that look and bring back the one that I saw this morning.
You pull me towards you then, and kiss me. It's a hard kiss, your mouth claiming and dominating with your hands grabbing at my waist so hard that I know I'll find bruises in a few hours and I don't care because I'm so consumed by your passion, it's everything that I've ever wanted.
You pull away so quickly that I nearly fall forward at the loss of contact and you look away from me and it's bittersweet because I'm grateful that you don't see me wipe the tear away from my cheek but that you can't even look me in the eye.
"Feel better Bella," you say, your voice more distant than I have ever heard it and it cuts me like a knife.
"Goodbye Edward," I reply, waiting for your car to pull away before I let the tears fall.
0-0-0-0-0
I spend that night drowning myself in ice cream and tears, berating myself over and over for being such an insecure little girl. I should have just asked you who was in the picture, instead of letting my insecurities get the best of me, seeing the beautiful woman with you has simply reiterated the fact that I am so incredibly out of your league.
Rose comes home from work late and finds me on the couch clutching a half-empty bottle of wine and watching Dirty Dancing, my movie of choice whenever I am miserable, the feel-good film not making me smile for the first time in my entire life.
"Oh Bella," she says sadly when she sees the mess that is me.
"I'm an idiot," I tell her, my voice cracking as fresh tears slide down my face.
"What happened?" she asks and I tell her everything from how I knew him when I was young to the picture on the shelf. She listens intently, stroking my hair as we share the rest of the wine and I know she's surprised by me, never before being this emotional; until tonight, she'd never even seen me cry before.
"Call him, tell him everything," she urges me, halfway through our second bottle of wine as Johnny pulls Baby out of the corner.
"I didn't get his number," I say sadly, "and the way he kissed me before he left Rose, it felt like he was saying goodbye to me."
"I don't get why you're being so damn accepting that this is the end Bella."
"You didn't see that picture Rose, she was so freaking perfect and I forget to brush my hair most days, I don't know how I could ever compete with someone like that," I rant, before draining another glass of wine.
"You are an idiot Bella, you're so fucking clueless. You're seriously one of the most beautiful people I know," she states in her no bullshit voice and I can't resist rolling my eyes at her.
"I'm not lying," she says, turning her attention to her wine and leaving me to my thoughts.
0-0-0-0-0
It isn't until hours later, when I am lying in the sheets that still smell like you that I realise that you didn't ask for my number again after losing it and that is when I decide to be brave for the first time in my entire life.
