First, I want to thank all of you that reviewed. Really, some of the responses I got were just so touching and I appreciated each and every one of them. I apologize for not getting back to everyone, but I want to make a few shout-outs very quickly: mscope, your review is permanently saved in my inbox and I've gone back to re-read it numerous times. Many thanks are in order to you, my dear. To twilighted4eternity, thank you for the PM. It gave me a tiny kick in the ass to get going ;) And to everyone else, I greatly appreciate that you're taking the time to read this story. It means a lot lot lot.
Alright, more at the bottom. This is a bigger update than usual, to make up for my tardiness. Here's more of what you actually want to read:
CHAPTER NINE - RECOVERY
Memories sharp as daggers,
Pierce into the flesh of today.
Suicide of love,
Take away all that matters.
And bury the remains in an unmarked grave
In your heart.
-Killing Loneliness by HIM
BPOV
Three years later
I locked the door behind me and stepped off the stoop onto the lush, damp soil in front of my rental home. I held my wrist up, checking the small silver watch that wrapped around it, and saw that it was already eight thirty. My "five-minute breakfast" had turned into fifteen, and if I couldn't coax my truck past fifty this morning, I was going to be late to work.
It wasn't necessarily dire to get there on time. I worked at the library and Mrs. Cope, who barely knew where to look to find out what time it was, rarely chastised me for being late. I just didn't like being late on principal.
I slammed the door of my truck and slid the key in the ignition, praying it would start this morning. Of course it didn't, truck coughing and wheezing pathetically before dying. I rolled my eyes and pumped the brake a few times, turned the key with a jerk and hoped that the engine would kick to life. After three failed attempts, I was finally able to start the beastly old thing and I pulled out of the driveway, heading into town.
I lived on a slightly deserted road surrounded by nothing but trees and greenery. My closest neighbor was over half a mile away. Real estate that was for sale—let alone within my price range—was hard to come by in Forks, and when I realized that all apartments within driving distance of the library were occupied, I was forced to look a little outside the town limits.
Not that I minded. After living in New York and being surrounded by people constantly for over six years, I appreciated the peace and the solitude.
Jake had graciously offered to let me move in with him, but it was too soon in our relationship to do that. We had only been dating for a few months, and while the proposal of hospitality on the Rez was a welcome thought, I wasn't ready to be caged in again. It seemed like I'd only just discovered the benefits of freedom, and I didn't want to give them up just yet.
Plus, his home in La Push was much too far from the library than I would have liked—I didn't want to get up at five every morning to ensure that I made it to work on time.
I passed by Newton's Outfitters and waved to Mike, who was unloading a new shipment of parkas from the bed of his truck. He had changed quite a bit since high school. His face had lost the baby-like roundness and his cheeks had hollowed out. He seemed to have grown a bit taller and lost the ridiculous Polo shirts with the baby-shade colors and cargo shorts and instead settled for baby-shaded t-shirts and jeans. He had somehow retained his football-ready physique, and I had heard of the wedding band on his left hand.
I hadn't been the only one to marry my high school sweetheart. Only his marriage, to Jessica Stanley of all people, had lasted longer than mine. I was almost ashamed at that; Jessica and Mike had managed to make it work. But of course, I couldn't.
I didn't get the chance to see his wedding band up close. The last time I had talked to him was almost ten years ago, when he and Jessica had still been dating. We had been friends back then, so of course they both had tried to contact me when I returned from New York, to meet for lunch and catch up at the diner. But I never had the heart to accept, and I usually responded with a weak-ass excuse about other obligations, most of which didn't exist.
It wasn't that I didn't like them. While I had been back in Forks for almost three years, I had barely talked to anyone from my previous life there. I still wasn't ready to face them. The ones who had attended my wedding, and now whispered about me behind their hands at the grocery store or gave me pitying looks as I filled my truck with gas.
I wasn't ready to answer the one question on everyone's mind: Where is Edward?
I sped into town, waving at people I knew or recognized along the way. I wasn't ready to talk to anyone about what had happened in New York, but I didn't want them all to think I was a total bitch. I didn't go out of my way to avoid people; when someone spoke to me, I responded. When I bought my groceries from Mr. Webber, we chatted lightly about the weather and my home and I often promised to call his son if it ever needed repairs. I talked to Mrs. Cope about the books that needed to be recovered and the ones that had to be put out for the baseball season display. Sometimes, on my way home after a run, I saw Mr. Jenks washing his car in his driveway and I would stop and say 'hello.'
I was polite and friendly to anyone who spoke to me. I just never made an attempt to go close to any of them.
Except Jake.
His companionship had been a blessing. I'd become more and more distant from the Cullens after completing physical training with Emmett and receiving the go-ahead from Carlisle—my health had progressed enough that I was 'medically' allowed to move out from their guest house—and things had gotten strained between us. I tried my best to keep up with Alice, and I responded to Esme's e-mails and Emmett's texts, but things just weren't the same after I moved out.
Sighing, I shook my head as I parked in the parking lot at the library. I had managed to get there with two minutes to spare, and I hurriedly jumped from my truck. In my haste, I slipped on the icy asphalt and cursed lightly as my hand caught on the rusty handle of my truck. Ignoring the sting in my hand, I hurried into the building.
Mrs. Cope was nowhere to be found, as usual, so I headed straight to the return cart and began sorting through the books that had been returned after I left the day before. Snorting at some of the titles, I put them in groups by section and had begun alphabetizing them by author when Mrs. Cope rounded the corner.
"Morning, Bella dear," she chirped, plopping down behind the computer at the circulation desk. She reminded me a bit of Mrs. Bennett from the modern Pride and Prejudice, which I had just watched last night. She wasn't as annoying, but her British accent, dainty voice and robust figure gave her a very similar appearance. I couldn't help but smile at her, muttering a similar response and returning back to my task at hand.
It didn't take me long and I wheeled the cart back to the nonfiction section, beginning the daunting shelving process.
I liked working at the library. It was calm, quiet... everything New York hadn't been. It allowed me time to think, time to be by myself. I reveled in the peaceful silence, running my fingers gently over the spines of the books and breathing in a deep sigh of contentment.
I was interrupted by a soft cough behind me, and I whirled around and nearly ran straight into the wide chest of my boyfriend.
"Jake!" I gasped, smiling widely. "Hi!"
He grinned, leaning up against the shelf. "Hey." He held out a paper bag.
I frowned. "What's this?"
He chuckled. "Well, your text this morning was very short, which is highly unusual because you are usually so mouthy." He laughed when I moved to playfully swat him. He caught my hand easily. "You only send me those when you're running late. And when you are running late, you forget to pack a lunch. So I brought one for you." He thrust it toward me again, grinning widely.
"Wow, Jake that's... that's sweet of you." I reached forward, taking the back gingerly from him, feeling a blush creep up my neck. "You didn't have to drive all the way down here to bring that to me."
He laughed, ruffling my hair. "I didn't."
I pouted.
"I had to pick up a part. Dumbass kid I just hired, Embry something-or-other, had it shipped to the post office here rather than my garage," he rolled his eyes. "But I can spare an hour if you want to eat with me."
"But Jake it's only..." I looked at my wrist. It was already twelve thirty. My God.
"Come on, ditsy," he teased lightly, reaching forward and taking my hand. "Where's your break room?"
I let him pull me in the direction of the offices, protesting lightly and without much conviction. "Jake, we're not allowed to bring guests into the break room. It's against library policy."
He didn't turn around to look at me, but looked from left to right, searching. "I saw that woman at the front desk," Jake said. "The one that had 'Library Manager' printed on her name tag—"
"Mrs. Cope."
"—and she was reading one of those trashy romance paperbacks." He turned and waggled his eyebrows at me. "I promise, by the blush on her face, she won't notice a thing."
I giggled behind my hand, blushing. "Jake, that's my boss."
He tsked dramatically. "And she shouldn't be participating in activities that result in getting horny at work. What is wrong with the management of this establishment?"
I spluttered on a choke. "Jake!" I hissed. "She's seventy-four."
"Are you saying seventy-four year-old women can't get turned on? I'll be sure to inform her of your opinion. How embarrassing."
I couldn't help but laugh at that, taking his hand more firmly, thinking to myself 'To hell with it' and leading him toward the break room.
We sat at the small round table and I unrolled the top of the bag, peering inside eagerly. I frowned, confused, and turned it upside down. Two sandwiches, two apples, two Chewy bars, two Capri Sun juice boxes and two Oatmeal Creme Pies tumbled out onto the table.
I looked up at him and grinned.
"Well I wasn't about to take 'no' for an answer," he responded before reaching over and scooping everything that was his toward him.
I laughed. "Jake, did you pack this, or did Claire?"
Claire was Jake's three year-old niece who had just enrolled in preschool. Apparently, Jake and his sister Rebecca had been trying to teach her to decide what she wanted to pack for lunch before she went to school.
The contents of the paper bag looked like they had come straight from her Dora the Explorer lunchbox.
"I babysat her last night," he replied "If you must know, she picked everything that went in here."
I smiled. "Well, that was very sweet of her. Tell her I said thank you."
"And what about me?" he sniffed. "I packed everything."
I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you," I cooed softly.
He smiled brightly before tucking into his sandwich. "So," he mumbled around a mouthful of food. "How's work?"
"Fine," I replied. "As exciting as to be expected working in a library."
He snickered and continued eating. As my eyes roamed his dark form, I couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between him and... Edward. Jake was dark, Edward was pale. Jake was bulky, Edward had been lean. Jake was kind and gentle and patient. Edward had been...well...
I ignored the painful squeezing in my chest as I thought of him. Hurt and anger, that was all that I felt now when his face came to mind. The onslaught of memories that came with every mention of him brought so much emotion that I shuddered.
The outfit I wore was severe; black pencil skirt and blazer with a maroon silk blouse underneath. I had pulled my wig-hair back into a tight bun and foregone makeup. I was already crying when I did my hair so there was no use in even attempting mascara when it would just start running down my face.
I was a mess. And I felt like shit.
I sat quietly next to my lawyer, a woman named Tanya Hunter that I had been working with before my accident. She didn't speak or even look at me, she just stared ahead at Edward's lawyer across the table, tapping her pen lightly on the open folder in front of her. Trying to intimidate him.
Which was highly unnecessary. Not to mention annoying.
Today we were attending the pretrial settlement conference. I was nervous but Tanya said I shouldn't worry. She would make sure I got everything I wanted. This calmed my anxiety slightly, and I felt the slight comfort of a small dose of courage as I entered the room that morning. Of course, I hadn't seen Edward yet, and when he looked up from the table upon my entrance with those piercing green eyes, any bit of courage I had drained from my body like the blood in my face.
I tried not to look at him, to keep my cool, but it was impossible. I looked up at him several times, and each glance was like an icy stab to my heart. He looked incredibly beautiful, even now. His suit was immaculately tailored, tight enough to emphasize his broad chest and muscular torso without being obnoxious. His black jacket was unbuttoned, revealing an emerald Oxford shirt underneath. His features were sharp, from his freshly shaved jaw to his nose to his eyes. His hair was in its usual disarray, but with some evidence that he had tried to tame it.
He was staring at the wall behind me, stony and cold, his face an iron, emotionless mask. I could not discern any real emotion, which only made me feel like more of a wreck. I was sure I looked like a complete basket case. My eyes felt dry and puffy and my nose kept running. There were bags under my eyes from lack of sleep and my skin was pale.
This morning as I adjusted my wig in the bathroom, I felt like a corpse was staring back through the mirror at me, driving the point home. The point that I was miserable.
"Good morning, everyone," Judge Aro Volturi said, announcing his entrance to the room. He sat at the head of the table, opening up a folder and unscrewing the cap of his fountain pen. He scratched something on a legal pad next to him and then looked up.
"Mrs. Hunter, you're client is petitioning for divorce on the grounds of irreconcilable differences, is this correct?"
"Yes, Your Honor," she said with a flick of her strawberry blond hair.
"Mr. Santorini, what is your client's response?"
Alec Santorini cast cold, icy blue eyes on my before looking up at the judge. "Mr. Cullen is not contesting," he replied stiffly.
"Oh good," Judge Volturi said, writing on his pad. "That saves us some trouble. We should be out of here by lunch time." My stomach clenched at his flagrant disregard of sensitivity toward the issue. Edward's eyes snapped up to the Judge, and I felt guilty about being slightly appeased that this got his attention.
His glare was absolutely lethal.
The Judge paid no attention. "Alright, now this is how it's going to go, folks," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Your lawyers have both submitted statements that I've reviewed, so all we need to do is divvy up the assets, settle on an arrangement for alimony and come to a sensible agreement that both parties are happy with. Understood?"
Edward agreed with one sharp nod of his head while I mumbled a weak, "Yes, Your Honor." I hated how pitiful my voice sounded and how it cracked, but I looked down at my folded hands on the table to hide my embarrassment.
"Alright Mrs. Hunter, lay it on the table."
Tanya flipped her hair over her shoulder and cast a menacing look at Mr. Santorini before turning to Judge Volturi. "Your Honor," she started. "Mrs. Cullen has made it clear to me that she will be moving back to Washington within the week to undergo monitoring and physical therapy to recover from an accident that nearly left her in a coma two months ago."
I risked glancing up at Edward and regretted it. He was glaring at me now, his green eyes smoldering with rage and what looked to be pure hatred. I shriveled in my seat, looking back down at my hands.
"She has requested that she receive nothing from Mr. Cullen—none of the assets, no alimony, no money whatsoever. She doesn't even want his name. She wants to move on with her life back in her hometown and wants no further contact."
My eyes fluttered closed as my chest constricted. She made it sound so... harsh. I had mentioned to her that I would be changing my name back to Swan and wasn't sure how she knew the details of my stay at the hospital. I had certainly not told her any of it. The fact that she was bringing up things we hadn't discussed made me nervous.
"We will also be adding infidelity to the charges against Mr. Cullen."
My eyes snapped open and I gaped at her. This was definitely not something we had discussed and I began to panic. I turned toward the judge to refute her, ignoring the heat of Edward's stare, but was interrupted by his lawyer.
"Well, if this is the case Tanya, then we will be adding the charge of infidelity as well."
She rolled her eyes, looking over at Mr. Santorini. "She slept with one man, Alec. Not half of New York."
"My client has assured me that he has engaged in sexual relations with no more than ten women, Your Honor, which is hardly half of New York." Mr. Santorini rebutted, looking back at Tanya with a challenge in his eyes. "At least the women Mr. Cullen slept with were nameless faceless bodies. Not like your client's conquest. Wasn't it your husband that she slept with? Don't you think that jeopardizes your case? A little conflict of interest?"
I felt like I was going to faint. I gripped the table for support as bile rose in my throat and I glanced fearfully at Tanya, expecting her to react in some sort of way. I wouldn't be surprised if she turned and slapped me. But she just stared ahead at him, a small smile on her mouth.
"Yes, I am aware of what occurred between the two of them. No, that doesn't jeopardize anything."
"But isn't it true that your husband was her boss? A man whom your client was very familiar with? Someone she confided in? Someone that worked with her at a diner that my client wasn't even aware she worked at?"
"Your client was perfectly aware of the fact that she worked at the diner. I wouldn't put it past Mr. Cullen to have known so before, but if not, his run-in with Mr. Hunter in Mrs. Cullen's hospital room would have sealed the deal."
I was going to be sick. James? And Edward?
IN MY HOSPITAL ROOM?
"That aside, it's not the only occurrence hinting at Mrs. Cullen's infidelity," Mr. Santorini sneered
"What are you getting at, Alec?"
"I'm merely suggesting that Mrs. Cullen was living a double life—one that Mr. Cullen wasn't even aware of. In fact, she told said employer James Hunter that her name was Isabella Swan, not Isabella Cullen. We have the papers right here. A bit of a challenge to her credibility, don't you think?"
I gaped. A double life? I worked at a restaurant down the street, for crying out loud. I didn't own another apartment or have another family somewhere!
"Your Honor," Tanya whined, looking over at him. "Mr. Santorini is grasping at straws. Mrs. Cullen is a highly renowned violinist with plenty of local media attention, and if Mr. Hunter paid any sort of attention to the morning news—and I can attest that he doesn't—he would have realized that her last name was Cullen, not Swan. That's not what is being debated at the moment. She slept with one man throughout the course of her marriage, and that was Mr. Cullen. She engaged in sexual intercourse with James Hunter after she had filed paperwork for divorce with me, signaling that her marriage was at an end. Clearly, I am aware of it and clearly, I am still choosing to be her attorney. Mr. Santorini's argument has no foundation."
"It has plenty of foundation," he argued. "You're trying to charge my client with infidelity when your client is just as guilty. That's a clear-cut case for hypocrisy, unless you need to go back to grade school and relearn the definition."
"Fine then, Mr. Santorini," Tanya replied with a wicked smile on her face. "Maybe it is a conflict of interest. But I slept with you, so doesn't that create a conflict of interest as well? Or is my definition of hypocrisy wrong?"
"Enough!" Edward's booming voice resounded through the room. I looked up at him in shock, not daring to breathe. He stared back at me, his gaze cold and calculating. He held me prisoner with his eyes. He spoke with authority and conviction, commanding the attention of the room. "Isabella is not guilty of anything. If she had sex with James after she filed the papers, then I cannot accuse her of infidelity and it is not my wish to charge her with such. I'm not going to sit here and listen to this pissing contest." He looked down at his expensive silver watch. "I have somewhere to be at two."
"As do I," Judge Volturi spoke from the head of the table. "And I happen to agree with Mr. Cullen. Infidelity is out. Are you through, Mrs. Hunter?"
She nodded, calmed slightly and smiled. "I am now, Your Honor."
He turned to Mr. Santorini. "Rebuttal?"
Mr. Santorini leaned over and whispered something in his ear, to which Edward nodded firmly. He whispered something back and then fixed his eyes on the wall behind me.
"Mr. Cullen does not wish to agree to the terms of the divorce, against my advice," he glanced at me, disdain clear on his face. "He requests that half of their shared bank account, half of the belongings in the apartment and half of the stock he owns be given to Mrs. Cullen. In order to ensure a smooth transition back to Washington."
I felt tears well up in my eyes. Why couldn't he just agree? I didn't want anything and he was drawing this out. If he would just agree now, the judge would legalize the divorce and we could leave, me in my own way and he in his. I made to lean over and make this abundantly clear to Tanya when she spoke up again.
"That won't be necessary, Mr. Santorini," Tanya said. My eyes widened. She couldn't possibly...
"In October of 2009, Mrs. Cullen opened an account with Regions Bank and as of today, that account has accrued a little over ten thousand dollars, what with working at the diner and her musical career. There will be no need for—"
"You planned this?" I looked up at his heartbroken hiss, to see Edward's mask completely broken and his eyes were full of grief and tears. I grimaced at the pained expression on his face and felt a fresh wave of tears flood my eyes as I made to protest.
"No, it wasn't—"
"Of course she did, Mr. Cullen," Tanya sneered from beside me. "What else was she supposed to do while you 'worked late' and slept around with half of the women of New York?" Her bitchy tone was accompanied by air quotes with her fingers, and I could see the situation beginning to spiral out of control.
"He slept with under ten, Tanya," Mr. Santorini objected.
"By whose defini—"
"I've heard enough," Judge Volturi stated firmly from the head of the table. "I will not permit the two of you to practice law again together in my presence, do I make myself clear?" He didn't wait for a response. "What I have seen here today is disgraceful, and I have half a mind to send the two of you in front of the review board for disorderly conduct." Tanya stiffened. "And believe me, I'm friends with quite a few people on that board and can guarantee I would not have a problem disbarring either of you."
He turned to me. "Mrs. Cullen, is it true that you opened up a bank account at Regions?"
I nodded tearfully. "It is, Your Honor."
"Very well." He turned to Mr. Santorini. "Seeing as how Mrs. Cullen has the means to make it back to Washington on her own, I see no other reason as to why you can object to her terms. If there are any, you need to make them known now."
Alec Santorini sat quietly, not moving.
"So be it. Mr. and Mrs. Cullen, I am pleased to announce that this meeting has come to an end. I see no reason for a trial since we all came to an agreement. I will grant Mrs. Cullen the divorce and I will grant Mr. Cullen the rights to all property. Shall there be any other issues, feel free to contact your lawyers to submit an appeal, which I will review carefully and take into consideration. As of this moment, you are now divorced and this meeting is dismissed."
He snapped his folder closed. "I bid you all a pleasant day."
He stood from the table and strode from the room, leaving the room in utter silence. Me, in shock and disbelief that, just like that, my marriage was over. The boy I had been in love with for nearly half my life was now my ex-husband, and while I had been somewhat confident walking in here this morning, I was now at a loss as to what to do now. I assumed Tanya and Mr. Santorini were silent at the treat of losing their licenses.
And Edward... well, I had no idea why Edward was quiet.
He stood from the table, buttoning his jacket. He shook the hand of his lawyer, then reached across the table and shook Tanya's hand. With a cold glance at me, he nodded once. "Isabella," he muttered with a degree of finality. He didn't wait for me to respond. He turned on his heel and strode from the room.
"Well, Tanya," Mr. Santorini said, standing from the table. "I'd say you are pretty good at laying it on the table."
She smiled and winked at him, all evidence of courtroom tension gone. "You'd know, wouldn't you?"
I barely even heard them. I watched Edward's retreating form until the door swung closed behind him. I felt the wet burn of a tear trailing down my cheek but didn't move to wipe it away. I stared down at the table as both lawyers stood, gathering their briefcases and files. I stared down at the table as they both left together.
I stared at the table for a long time.
He never called me Isabella. He knew I hated it. He'd always called me—
"Bella?"
I inhaled quickly and looked up at Jacob, who was gazing at me with an expression of worry and concern.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah," I nodded, assuring. "Yeah, I'm fine."
Jacob took a deep breath. "You were thinking about him again, weren't you?"
I grabbed his hand and waggled it gently. "It's not important," I said, smiling encouragingly.
He smiled back weakly, gathering up his trash. "I'd better go," he said.
"But Jake... it's only been..." I looked at my watch. I blinked.
"About forty-five minutes," he replied, smiling gently and taking my trash as well. I looked down, surprised. I had eaten all of the sandwich and cream pie, half of the Chewy bar and a few bites from my apple.
Remorse twisted around my heart.
"I'm so sorry, Jake. I really didn't know—"
"It's alright," he said, smiling again. "I just hope you think about me like that, sometimes." He stood up from the table, tossing all the trash in a nearby garbage can. "I'll call you after work, yeah?"
I nodded and stood from the table. "Do you want to come over for dinner?"
He chuckled. "The football game's on tonight."
"I'll order a pizza and some beer and you can come watch it at my place."
He shook his head. "I promised I would watch it with my dad," he said apologetically. My face fell. He reached up and trailed a warm finger across my cheek and down my jaw to my neck. "So pretty," he murmured, leaning forward. I met his mouth eagerly, trying to convey just how sorry I was in my kiss. I tried to pry his lips open with my own, to show him, but with two hands gently cupping my face, he pulled away.
"Why do you always do that?" he asked gently.
"Do what?" I asked breathlessly, already leaning forward to kiss him again.
He stopped me. "You always... try to get physical when you feel you have done something wrong. Don't misunderstand, normally I'm all for it." He tipped my chin up when I looked at the ground. "But I'm just not into sexin' it up when you're distracted by your ex-husband."
Ex-husband... it sounded weird coming from someone else. A tear fell down my cheek.
He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "What did he do to you?" he whispered, more so to himself than to me.
I didn't understand, and I meant to ask him but when he pulled back, all traces of sadness were gone from his eyes. He smiled playfully, tugging on my hair. "You better get to work, little girl. Don't want Mrs. Cope up there to think we were engaging in some of the activities she was reading about."
I gasped. "She wouldn't!"
He laughed. "You're right. If we were doing anything of that nature, it would definitely not be something she would read about. I don't think it would be allowed to be printed." His eyes gleamed wickedly before kissing me on the forehead again and turning toward the door. "I'll call you, okay?"
I nodded, still dazed by his comment. "Okay."
He chuckled. "See you later, quo pot," he said softly as he turned to leave the room. The door swung shut behind him, leaving me feeling guilty and ashamed that I had allowed myself to drift off and think about my ex-husband in the presence of my boyfriend.
I sighed and left the room, heading back for the abandoned shelving cart in the middle of the Children's Fiction: Da – Du section. I sighed as I picked up a book, wedging my hand between two books and sliding it in the open space there.
The memory left me rattled, causing me to make more mistakes than usual. I shelved books in the wrong places, which I knew but neglected to fix. The display I set up was sloppy and I saw Mrs. Cope eying me warily and tsking as she straightened out some of the books. She ended up sending me home early, telling me to drink some chicken broth and get plenty of sleep.
Driving home, I found myself once again comparing Jacob and Edward, which infuriated me. There was no reason for it—Edward and I had been divorced for nearly three years now. I had grown to quite nearly hate him for all he had put me through in New York, especially after I moved back here and saw all that had been missing from my life.
He still lived in New York, last time I heard, and true to the agreement our lawyers reached, I had had no contact with him since he walked out of the Judge's chambers. I hopped on a plane with a suitcase full of clothes and came back to Forks later that week. I spent a few months grieving before one day realizing that I needed to move on with my life. I sold my expensive clothing and bought jeans and plain long sleeved t-shirts. I finally exchanged Cullen for Swan.
I replaced his presence in my life.
With Jacob.
I had been surprised at how easily things had worked out between the two of us. About a year after I had been back in Forks, he showed up on my front step with a box of tools, claiming that he was going to fix my truck. He'd called a few times before then, asking if he could come and look it, but I had respectfully declined. Now, on my front doorstep, he playfully refused to take 'no' for an answer and claimed that since he had given it to me, it was his 'duty as the gift-giver to make sure that his gift was kept in good condition.'
Whatever. He had been my friend all those years ago and I had missed him. So if he wanted to work on my truck, he could do so whenever he wanted.
He spent a good two hours underneath the hood, and I didn't feel right just sending him off when he was finished. We'd been such good friends before and I wanted to catch up and see what he had been up to lately. So I invited him in for some iced tea and fried up some grilled cheeses.
Things went on from there.
He'd changed a lot since high school as well. He was huge, dwarfing my small card/dining table with his large frame. His hands had to be the size of dinner plates, his shoulders the length of the small door frames in the house. He no longer kept his hair long and in a ponytail, but wore it short, shaved close to his head. He'd replaced the greasy mechanic shop jerseys of his youth with tight black shirts that showed off his... rather impressive abdominals and broad pectoral muscles. His smile was bright and his eyes danced.
He made me happy.
He found excuses to come back once a week. He'd found something else that was wrong with the truck. There was a leak in my ceiling—which I still believe to be nonexistent—my dishwasher needed new blades, my air conditioning filters needed to be replaced (which I was perfectly capable of doing myself). Then he was coming over once every day, and when he ran out of things to fix he just came over for no reason. We sat and ate together and he kept my company. He didn't push to find out why I came back to Forks and he didn't prod for answers about Edward.
He was comfortable. He was familiar. We had been friends as teenagers, so when he asked me out on a date, I agreed with little hesitation and I had been seeing him ever since.
We never talked about Edward in the open. There were times where I would tell him a snippet or two of what happened, but he really only knew that Edward and I were divorced, he lived there and I moved here after getting in a really bad accident. I didn't want the negativity of my past life to color our relationship in the present, so I kept it to myself.
And he was okay with that.
According to Carlisle, I had healed remarkably well, which made keeping my past hidden from Jake and everyone much easier. My hair had grown back to almost its full length and, thanks to Alice, I had learned to style it in a way to hide the scars on my head from my surgery. I completed physical training with Emmett and was pleased that I could walk without assistance or a limp. My brain functioned at the same capacity it had before.
The only evidence of my life in New York was left in my wrist. I had gained about eighty percent rotation back. A miracle to everyone else. To me, it was a curse. Everytime I went to pick up my violin, I was reminded that I couldn't play it and I was reminded why. So, to hide that from Jake, I switched to piano. And I was picking up quite well.
I pulled into my driveway and jumped from my truck, hearing the loud ringing of my phone within the house. I scrambled to the front door, fumbling with my key and pushing through in time to snatch it up from the table in the small living room.
"Hello?" I asked breathlessly.
"Hi, Bella!" an excited voice chirped from the other end of the line.
"Alice," I sighed, smiling. I hadn't spoken to her in almost a week. She and Jasper and their two year-old daughter Makenna had been on a vacation in Paris—something or other about Fashion Week—and they had returned just yesterday.
"How are you?" she asked.
"I'm doing well. I just got home from work. How was the flight home?"
"Fine," shesighed dramatically. "Makenna fussed the whole way home and Jasper got cranky the last few hours, but they had fun."
"Yeah right!" a voice called from the background. I smiled.
"Tell Jasper I said hi."
"She said you're annoying and that you need to quit listening in on my conversations," Alice called and I heard the distinct sound of Jasper's laugh. "Anyway," Alice continued. "We were wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner? We were were supposed to go over to Mom and Dad's but the Great Doctor came down with something and Mom doesn't want him to give it to Makenna. So since we're already dressed and I made boysenberry rhubarb pie, we figured we would invite some company. You down?"
"Gee, Alice, how considerate. I wouldn't want to be the cause of the demise of your outfit and pie," I teased.
She clucked her tongue. "Always with the sarcasm. Come over."
"I can't. I already ordered a pizza and I'm going to watch the football game—"
"No you didn't and no you aren't. Stop making excuses and come over. Makenna misses her Godmommy."
She pulled out the big guns. She knew I couldn't resist that baby, so with a sigh I told her I would be there in thirty minutes. I could see her jumping up and down and clapping her hands as I laughed as I hung up the phone.
I climbed the stairs to my bedroom. I didn't feel the need to dress in something other than what I already had on—a simple black skirt and white blouse. I traded my low heels for flats and pulled my hair into a neater bun, but other than that, I didn't have much to do. I headed back downstairs and grabbed a box of wine from my counter, snatched up my keys and headed back out to my truck.
I arrived at Alice's about twenty minutes later, barely taking in the ornate exterior—I'd been there enough times that the splendor had little effect on me. I entered through the front gate that was embellished with a large, garish looking silver W and parked my truck in the sprawling driveway. The fountain in the center of it trickled peacefully and I smiled as I passed it, seeing copper pennies shimmering at the bottom.
No one taught their children to waste money better than Alice did.
Her house had her name written all over it. The exterior was a smokey pale blue with white shutters and trim and... sparkles everywhere. The mailbox was a glimmering silver. The outdoor lamps mounted to the wall were oversized, complete with silver frames cracked glass that cast shimmering rays over the sidewalk. The windows seemed to glimmer in the fading light. The landscape was perfectly manicured, all the way up to the plants that had been trimmed into swirls that reminded me of ice cream. The large trees that stood along the inside of the gate twinkled with tiny lights.
I raised my hand to the large polished silver knocker.
The door swung open before I had a chance to knock, revealing a tiny little girl holding it open with wide arms. Her black hair that hung in soft, natural coils to her shoulders was pinned up in a tiny white bow. She had on tiny white ballerina flats.
And was wearing an over-sized white t-shirt with a Confederate flag on the front.
"Annie Bella!" she squealed, throwing her arms up into the air, a symbol that she wanted me to pick her up.
"Is someone calling my name?" I asked, looking straight past her playfully. I poked my head inside the door, turning it left and right. "I could swear I heard a little princess calling my name, but I can't seem to seem to find her anywhere."
"Down heoh Annie Bella!" she laughed.
I finally looked down at her. "Oh, there you are," I chuckled, putting the wine down on a small round—silver and more cracked glass—table outside the front door before lifting her into my arms. "How's my sweetest girl?"
"I got anudder toof!" she grinned largely.
"Let me see," I said, peering inside her mouth. "Well, would you look at that," I mused. "I suspect we're going to have to put some gold on that pretty soon, what do you think?"
Makenna smiled gleefully, but was interrupted by her mother.
"You will do no such thing," a voice called, and suddenly Alice materialized where Makenna had been two seconds ago.
Makenna frowned. "But Mommy, you like gold. You bought my dis gold in Pawis." She held out her wrist to show a tiny gold chain.
I chuckled.
"I know I did, baby," she sighed. "But that gold is pretty. Auntie Bella is trying to turn you into a hoodlum. Which is tacky."
I rolled my eyes. "I think Daddy beat Auntie Bella, Alice."
While Alice tried to see what was on the t-shirt, Makenna turned to me and informed me, "I just learned what tacky means dis week."
"Oh yeah?" I asked. "What's that?"
We were interrupted as Alice finally took notice of her apparel. "Oh my... Jasper!"
He came up behind her, tossing a kitchen towel over his shoulder. "Hey there, Auntie Bella."
"Don't 'Auntie Bella' her, Jasper. What the fu—fudge is Makenna wearing and where the fudge did she get it?"
Makenna turned to me and whispered, "Mommy says fudge when she wants to say somefing badder," she explained sensibly. "But I heard her say da bad fing before. It's 'fu—'" I pressed a finger over her mouth.
"It's a cultural thing, babe," he grinned, winking at me. "We chose to raise a child in the Northwest, but we don't want her to be ignorant of other cultures. The South is not something that should be forgotten; it molds some of the best people in history. Just look at me," he said, puffing his chest out.
"Yeah, you and the Bush family," she quipped sarcastically. She pointed at the t-shirt. "That isn't cultural. Something cultural would be... those cute little pink cowboy boots we bought her when we visited Tennessee. Not a Confederate flag. Our neighbors are going to think we're raising a racist."
"Whass a racist?"
"Someone who—"
"Alright, enough!" Alice said sternly. "Bella, put Makenna down." She had entered Mother mode. "Makenna, please go put your dress back on, sweetheart."
I watched as Makenna tottered through the house.
"Shouldn't she stay away from the stairs?" I asked, a bit concerned.
"Her dress is on the couch in the den," Alice replied dismissively. "She knows that. It doesn't concern me at the moment." She turned to her husband, glaring. "Jasper, where the fuck did you get that shirt?"
"I bought it online."
She spluttered. "You... you bought a t-shirt... with a Confederate flag on it... online?"
"Yes."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Jasper Hale Whitlock, I think you're just doing this to spite me."
He winked at me again before putting his arm around Alice's shoulder. "Naw, darlin'," he replied, his Southern drawl thickening. "I wouldn't dream of it. This is purely for her and her education. Just be lucky I don't take it farther with hands-on experience and take her skeet shootin' or teach her how to suck the head meat out of crayfish."
I chuckled when Alice's face paled as he turned her around and led her back into the house. I followed a few paces behind, taking my time to look at all the photos Alice had hanging on the wall—framed in silver, of course.
There were posed shots of Makenna as a baby in black-and-white, a photo from her wedding in a small cathedral in France—don't even ask how expensive that trip was—pictures of her and her father when she graduated from Princeton before heading to design school, some from her honeymoon with Jasper in Europe, and of course a current family shot. I chuckled at that one. Makenna was smiling beautifully, as expected, but her facial expression was one of mischief and defiance.
Jasper's child through and through.
I moved to a picture of Alice and Jasper, along with Emmett and Rosalie on a beach in Bora Bora. I couldn't help but feel remorse and sadness, not to mention anger, as I saw how happy they all looked. Edward and I should have been in this picture too. We had been invited to go on the trip with them, after all. But of course, I had declined. Edward wasn't able to get away from work.
My musings were interrupted when my cell phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Jacob.
"Hello?"
"I need your help," he said, his voice a tad desperate.
I frowned. "What's wrong?"
"Don't laugh, okay?" he pleaded.
I nodded, then remembered he couldn't see me. "Okay, I won't. Jake, what's going on?"
He sighed, his voice nervous. "Remember when we were talking about how hard it is to live so far away from each other... how hard it is physically?" The way he said it sent shivers down my spine. Good shivers. I waited. "Well... I... I made something for you."
"Pardon?"
"I got one of those kits and made you a..." he whispered something I couldn't make out.
"I'm sorry, a what?"
"A mock cock," he said a little louder.
I choked. "A what?"
"Let me finish." He sounded pained. He sighed again. "Okay, well Dad and I were supposed to watch Claire tonight, which I totally forgot about. Rebecca didn't bring any games with her or anything and I hadn't even begun to think of anything to do with her. So I took her outside and turned on the sprinkler and let her run around for a little while."
"Okay? Jacob, you're not making sense."
"She got dirty. I mean, really dirty. I've never seen a kid get so covered in mud, not even me. So I told her to go get a towel out of my room while I ran a bath for her." His voice shook. "Well... she came back into the bathroom with the... cock... and told me she wanted to play mermaids with it." To emphasize his point, I heard the water in the bathtub splash.
I giggled. I covered my mouth to hide it, but I couldn't stop the laughter building within me.
"Bella, this isn't funny!" he hissed. "I'm standing outside of my bathroom while my niece plays with a rubber replica of my dick in the bathtub! She put her fucking hair clip on it! My dick is wearing a sparkly flower hair clip!"
I was laughing in earnest at him now. He didn't even stop to chastise me, he just kept going.
"This could count for molestation, couldn't it? I mean, I don't know if she's molesting me or I'm molesting her or... oh God, your dad could arrest me, couldn't he? Shit, Bella, what am I supposed to do? I tried taking it away from her but she threw this fucking temper tantrum that made me want to hide under my bed."
"Would you like me to talk to her?" I asked, gasping around my laughter. He huffed but I could hear him moving back into the bathroom.
"Hey Claire? You wanna give me your mermaid so you can talk to Bella?"
"No!" she shouted. "Ariel can't come out of da water or she will die!"
"Baby, Bella really wants to talk to you."
"But..."
"Claire," he scolded, "I promise that Ariel will not die. Please talk to Bella."
There was a bit of splashing before I heard her soft little voice on the phone.
"Hi Bella," she murmured.
"Hey Claire. What're you up to?"
"Uncle Jake's playing mermaids wif me in da baftub."
"Oh yeah? That sounds... fun." God, this is so weird.
"Yeah. His mermaid doesn't look like the one I have at home though. It doesn't have a head."
I choked again, clutching a side table to keep myself from falling over. I chuckled, trying desperately to keep my laughter at bay. "You're right, sweetheart. But you know what? I bet Uncle Jake can find something better for your mermaid. What do you think?"
"He doesn't have anything." I could picture her rolling her eyes.
"How 'bout you hand the phone back to Uncle Jake and I'll help him find something."
"Really?" she squealed.
"Mhmm."
"Uncle Jake," she called. "Bella's gonna help you find somefing to be my mermaid."
"Bella?" he breathed. "Do you have any ideas?"
"Do you have a tube of hair gel or something? One that's wider at the end?"
I could hear him rifling around in the medicine cabinet that I knew was right over the sink. "Um, yeah. Yeah, this'll work."
"Just tell her that the wide end is the tail."
"Oh God, thank you so much. You just saved both of us a lifetime of mental scarring."
I chuckled. "You're welcome. I'm happy to help whenever you need it. I'm over at Alice's right now for dinner, can I call you a little later?"
"Yeah, that's fine," he replied distractedly. "I'll call you tonight. Claire, don't squeeze it!"
I snickered. "Bye Jake."
"Bye."
I snapped the phone shut and headed to Alice's kitchen, where she was tossing a salad together. Smiling at me, she handed me a glass of wine. It was white. I brought red.
"Alice, I brought some wine."
"I know," she replied, walking to the refrigerator to pull out a bowl of something white. "It doesn't go with the meat tonight, otherwise I would've served some. It'll compliment dessert though, so I had Jasper put it in the refrigerator." She smiled at me.
I leaned against the black granite countertop. "She's gotten so big," I said, nodding toward Makenna who came racing through the kitchen in her dress.
"I can't keep up sometimes," Alice murmured. "It's like one minute she won't make a peep and is refusing to give up her pacifier and then the next she's back-sassing me. Bella, the other day I told her to put of her clothes in her hamper and you know what she said? She told me that since I didn't have to do it, she didn't either."
I laughed. "Seems she got more of Jasper's genes."
"God, you're telling me. She would much rather be out playing in the mud than with the antique dollhouse I just bought her."
I grinned at Makenna affectionately. "Are you Daddy's girl?" I asked her.
She scowled at me. "No. I'm mad at him wite now."
"Why's that?" Alice asked. "Did Daddy tickle you again?"
"Yes!" she replied. "He tickle me an I don wanna be tickle. I told him."
"She hates being tickled," Alice whispered to me. "I swear, it would be better punishment than putting her in time-out. Makenna, would you please help Mommy and take this to the table?"
She looked down at the bowl. "What is it?"
"Sauce for the fish."
Makenna wrinkled her nose. "I don't like fish. Dats yucky."
"You don't have to eat it, honey. I have some chicken nuggets in the oven."
She grinned. "Okay!" She took the bowl and tottered from the kitchen.
Alice turned to me then, resting against the countertop next to me. Her eyes took on a more serious tone as she spoke to me. "It's been a while. I don't like going so long without hearing from you."
I chuckled. "Is the big bad wolf coming to get me?"
"You know what I mean," she said sternly. "It's not easy to go through what you did. I worry about you a lot."
I softened at that. She really was a good friend. "I know, Alice. But I'm fine, honestly. Life goes on."
Her eyes narrowed, but she didn't press. "Well, what have you been up to?"
"Same old," I replied, sipping my wine. "Working at the library, hanging out with Jake." Her nose wrinkled. Typical Alice. "You don't have anything to worry about." I encouraged, nudging her hip with mine.
"Yeah, well... we miss you around here. Makenna more than anyone." We watched as she chased Jasper around the dining room, trying to be stealthy by crawling under the table. All care for her pretty dress had gone out the window. "My God, she will never learn," Alice murmured lovingly. "It's like I'm raising two children, instead of one." She turned to me. "She loves you, you know. She told me the other day that you're her favorite aunt."
I chuckled. "That's because when she sleeps over at my house I let her wear t-shirts." I arched an eyebrow at her.
"I let her wear t-shirts too," she replied, sniffing. "Just not ugly ones."
I giggled. "Alice, all t-shirts are ugly. That's kind of the point."
"Okay, well not t-shirts that have Confederate flags on them."
I laughed.
"You seem happy," she said, smiling. "I haven't seen you smile this much in a while. Are you? Happy?"
"It can be hard sometimes," I replied, Edward's face flashing through my mind. I shook my head. "But it's getting easier." I thought back on my life over the past few years. My job at the library with Mrs. Cope. My time with Jake. Having better relationships with Alice and Jasper. Having Claire and Makenna in my life.
"You know, Alice? I think I am."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Soooooooooooooooooo yes, quite a big jump. Lots of things are still missing. Is Carlisle really sick? Where did Edward have to be during the proceedings? What happened after Bella left? All will be answered soon. Hopefully this chapter answers the question that so many had: No, she did not get pregnant with James' baby. Snaps all around for that one. A few things to make note of real quick:
-quo pot = my love
-Some readers have encountered divorces firsthand, and for those of you that have, don't stone me for how flawed the proceedings were. I did minimal research for them and used a bit of what I've seen in movies... That's it :/ I apologize for some inaccuracy, but I hope it wasn't blatantly wrong.
-No, Bella did not know James' wife was working as her attorney. This is something that was revealed for the first time during the meeting. This is not something that will stir up problems, however. This is the last time we will see Tanya in a major setting.
-For all who are angry that she didn't stay with Edward, please take note of a few things. No "I love you's," her hesitancy to move in with Jake, etcetera. I haven't done too much with it yet but I will elaborate more on it later. I'm kinda an HEA type-a gal myself, so just stick with me.
-Thoughts on Bella's relationship with Jacob? Her life in Forks? It's a big time leap, I know, but all will be filled in in due time. Have faith!
EPOV coming up next. Leave a review, pleeeease. I'm awful at getting back to them in a timely manner, but just know that I appreciate every single one! Now I'm off to watch Blue Valentine. Cheers!
