A/N: hi everyone, thanks so much for the feedback on the previous chapter, please keep it up! i hope you'll like this one just as much. happy reading :)
Chapter 9
It was one of these moments when reason was battling desire, and losing miserably. It was a test, I was certain. Someone was testing me, although I couldn't quite tell who would, or for what purpose. She had me completely, from the lace that clung to her body to the scent of her hair and the warmth of her blood pulsing just beneath her delicate skin. Her kisses were fierce, intoxicating. I remembered all too well the last time she had kissed me this way. That other night, only weeks ago on the island, desire triumphed over reason. I gave in. I gave her what she wanted. But if it was what I wanted as well, where was the harm in that? I managed to keep her safe that night. I didn't hurt her. And we were married. She was my wife. There was no need to resist this, to resist her.
But second thoughts were stronger than desire. I was still trying to hold on to reason when they hit. I grabbed the soft material with my fist, groaning in frustration, trying to push them away. The ache down my throat grew stronger. I kissed her harder; it would disappear if I didn't think about it. But it was still wrong and I knew it. I didn't hurt her then, but it didn't mean I wouldn't hurt her now. There was always the chance. And I couldn't do it. I couldn't hurt her. A few frenzied moments weren't worth hurting her, killing her. It was easy on the island, so much easier, but now I felt as if I was under a constant trial. And Carlisle was wrong. I hadn't mastered anything. I was far from that.
Her trailing fingers snapped me back into reality. Her lips still caressed mine, matching the fluttering movement of her fingers. I reacted the moment I realized where she was headed. "Bella, stop," I breathed, mustering every bit of my crumpling willpower to utter the words.
But it didn't help. She just smiled her angelic smile at me and yanked the button open, letting her fingers drift farther away, graze my skin just bellow the hem of my jeans. "Bella, stop!" I growled, now using more force to pull myself away from her.
She lay there for a moment, as if she wasn't sure what had just happened. To be honest, neither was I. Then she sat up and stared at me in shock. "What's wrong?" she whispered. Her hair was in tangles. One of her straps slid down her shoulder, revealing more of her skin. Her eyes looked huge. The betrayal in her stare was far too familiar. I had to look away. "Edward, look at me," she demanded, suddenly furious, as she tried to grab my arm. There was a muffled hiss, as if the motion hurt her. I slowly turned to face her. The rejection in her eyes was stronger than betrayal, wounding me just the same. "Please tell me this is not about what I think it is." Then, as if she could read the answer in my face, she sighed. "I don't believe this," she whispered, and climbed out of bed.
"Bella, wait. Please let me explain."
But she had already slammed the bathroom door behind her. "I'm fed up with explanations."
To me, her voice sounded clear, even though the wooden door. The fact she was speaking through tears was also clear. I sighed and refastened the button she had gotten undone, then grabbed my shirt from the floor and pulled it back on, now with anger. Then I sat at the edge of the bed, holding my head between my hands. It was beyond ironic. I was trying to protect her, and I ended up hurting her all the more. It was a cruel Catch 22.
When she stepped out of the bathroom, her eyes red but tearless, she wore sweatpants and a tanktop. I stood up, meaning to walk towards her. She ignored me completely as she snagged a pillow and tore the comforter from the bed in rage.
"What are you doing?" I asked, well-aware of the desperation in my voice.
"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm sure you don't need to read my mind to figure that much out," she said acidly.
"You are not going to spend the night on the sofa."
"This is exactly what I'm going to do, get out of my way."
I reached the door mil-second before her and stood against it, blocking her access. She huffed impatiently and glared at me. There was fire in her eyes now, as if she meant to fight back. I tried to touch her cheek; for the first time ever, she flinched away. "Please listen to me." She exhaled and gave me a challenging look. And now that I finally had her attention, I didn't know where to begin. "I don't want to hurt you," I said eventually, but the moment the words were out, I knew it was the wrong thing to say. She'd heard it too many times from me before.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but we've been through this and through this. You can't hurt me, Edward, you won't hurt me, I'm not more breakable than I was on the island!"
"No, but I'm more dangerous."
"You just keep saying that!" she yelled at me, frustrated. "Don't you see what's going on here? We're… You're… regressing!"
I felt horrible. I should have known rejecting her would be even worse. I couldn't give her what she wanted, then completely deny it from her. Wasn't that part of the reason she agreed to remain human, part of the reason why we were about to attend college? I should be grateful to her, not denying things from her. My mind worked frantically. I had to fix this. But how? She wouldn't listen to any more excuses, and this was what they were, empty excuses, because I obviously could control myself when I tried hard enough.
I reached for her face, taking advantage on a moment of distraction on her side. She tried to resist me, but I wasn't going to let her go. I placed my palms on both sides of her face, locking my gaze with hers. "I don't know if I'm strong enough to keep you safe when we're… when I'm with you like that. I could hardly keep you safe on the island so let alone here…" My voice trailed off. Her eyes were intent on mine, but she didn't seem convinced. "I could hardly forgive myself when I saw those bruises… how do you think I would feel if I did it here, where people can – " I took a deep breath. Even thinking about it was too much to bear. I looked at her pleadingly. "Can't you just… trust me, and do this my way?"
Her eyes narrowed; I let go of her face instinctively, and then she exploded. "No, Edward, as a matter of fact, I can't, because in the past few months we did everything your way. The wedding, coming here, staying human, because apparently you think you're the only one who knows what's best for me, aren't you? So no. If you don't mind, for the first time, I want to do things my way!"
I let her shove me aside. There was no way she could have managed it by herself. I watched her as she stormed out of the room. The stairs groaned beneath her angry steps. I listened until I heard her in the bottom floor, and only then I shut the door quietly behind me.
She had every right to be furious. And she was right. We always did things my way, starting from the day I saved her from Tyler's van. She lied for me then without knowing why, because from some reason, she trusted me when I told her it was safer. She went against everything she had believed in when she married me, and she accepted the college plan which had been my idea in the first place. And there was that one time, the only time I wished to forget, when I believed that leaving her was for her own good, and I only ended up damaging her all the more. I shuddered when I thought about that dark time in my life, about how I had almost lost her thanks to my own stupidity, and how lucky I was that in spite of everything I had put her through, somehow she took me back.
Perhaps this was where I was wrong. Perhaps doing things my way was what hurt her. Whereas some of it was definitely right – I couldn't help but smile when I glanced at my wedding band – some of it, if not most of it, had gone terribly wrong. I didn't want to hurt her anymore. I wanted her to be happy. She chose me. She was willing to leave everything behind – her family, her friends, her life – in order to spend eternity with me. She was sacrificing everything for me and I was constantly letting her down. Perhaps doing things her way was the solution.
I sat up with sudden resolution. I wouldn't know until I tried. I would never know how not to hurt her if I didn't try not to. More than anything, I wanted to make her happy. I wasn't doing very well, if she spent the night downstairs alone. I didn't know what time it was, or how long it had been since she stormed out, but I didn't care. I needed to set things right.
I was out of the room in a second. I meant to do all it took to make her see reason. I loved her, desperately. I was nothing without her. She had to know that. She had to know that I was –
I hit something halfway down the stairs. Her scent overpowered me; she gasped in surprise as she bumped into me. My arms shot forward to catch her before she staggered backwards. Was she on her way up? I looked at her questionably. Her face was stained with tears. She threw her arms around me and then her lips were everywhere, spreading soft kisses all over my face. "I'm sorry," she murmured, over and over again, but even that felt wrong. She shouldn't be apologizing. I should have been the one comforting her.
"Shh…" I said, slowly wrapping my arms around her. We just stood there for a moment, holding each other in silence. Then, when she seemed somewhat more composed, I pulled away just so I could look at her. I put a finger to her chin, raising her face slightly. Her eyes locked with mine, filled with questions. When I was sure I had her attention, I kissed her, slowly, as if I was doing it for the first time. The fire down my throat was steady, but I ignored it now completely. She was more important than this, than anything. I would focus on making her happy.
I pulled away from her when the rhythm of her heart began to soar, only to press my lips against the crook of her neck. Her hands locked in my hair as she threw her head back. Somehow remembering we were still standing in the middle of the staircase, I pinned her against the wall as I trailed my lips up her throat, to her chin, her jaw. She wrapped her leg around my waist. I brought one hand beneath her knee to steady her; she pressed against me even more. I kissed my way to her ear. "Come back to bed now, please."
It was half a question, half a statement, and she went still nonetheless. She opened her eyes with difficulty and stared at me, as if she was expecting me to back off again. But I wasn't going to. I kept my eyes locked with hers, hoping my intentions were clear. "Are you sure – "
I held a finger to her lips. "I love you. We're doing this your way."
The most beautiful smile suddenly curled on her lips before she brought them back to mine. I kissed her more fiercely now, filling with new confidence. It was easy, really. It was all a matter of practice, like she insisted, like Carlisle had promised.
As I carried her upstairs, I made a vow. She would never cry because of me again.
