"Oh, if I could go back in time when you only held me in my mind, just a longing gone without a trace. Oh, I wish I'd never ever seen your face. I wish you were the one, wish you were the one that got away."
-"The One That Got Away", The Civil Wars
...
Chapter Nine:
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Swan!" I jerked towards the sound of my name. Charlotte stood towering over my desk. Her long hair was pulled back into a smart and neat looking bun today. A sure sign that she was on a strict deadline that was not going as efficiently as hoped. I always knew that the moment she confined her usually loose and flowing red locks to a tight up do, putting any ballerina's to shame, things were serious.
Therefore, this was probably the worst possible moment that I could have chosen to space out. But there I sat, tapping my pen repetitively against the legal pad filled pages deep with my 'fancy chicken scratch'. While I was supposed to be halfway finished with a rough draft of my editorial on one of the city's councilwoman, I hadn't even written two words. The blinking black cursor mocked me from its position in my blank word document.
But my mind ran rampant, playing my dream over and over in my head, before switching violently to sharp memories of my night terror. Either way I was lost deep in thought over Edward's captivating eyes and the way he made my toes curl when he pressed against me. It was dangerous to think such things, but every time I looked down at my notes all that came to mind was the way he sat on the corner of my desk yesterday looking me up and down with that penetrating gaze, wearing his snug suit with its matching vest. And that thought would immediately remind me that he was dressed in exactly the same outfit in my nightmare. I was in a vicious cycle of Edward.
"Earth to Bella." My boss called out to me again, smacking her perfectly manicured hand down on the exact spot I was thinking about. It startled me back from my clandestine thoughts.
"Sorry Char." I straightened up in my desk chair, where my back had slid so far down in the leather seat that I was just moments from falling right off the edge. I tucked a loose strand of wavy brown hair behind my ear before meeting her hard stare reluctantly.
"Do you have the final copy of your exposé for Sunday's edition? The boss man upstairs wants to put together an early copy for a presentation with some of the shareholders." Her words would have gone through one ear and out of the other if I hadn't been trying so hard to pay attention. Even my subconscious knew that Charlotte, especially under a tight deadline, was not a woman to be trifled.
I opened my mouth but no words came out, something that had been happening an awful lot for a woman whose livelihood consisted of nothing but getting words down on paper. I guess that was always my problem. I was so much more eloquent at saying the right things when they only existed in white and black. I could almost cringe thinking about the public speaking class I had to take as part of my university core curriculum. I was never a good speaker. I had always left the oral words to the people around me; I was like my father in that way. My mother was a talker who spent the first five years of my life speaking for both of us, when she left Alice took her job, and when Alice and I parted ways her brother had no trouble placing his words where I left silence. I liked to think that after that I learned to find my own voice, but while I was a professional writer, Mike was a professional talker, although he never did overtake my voice.
He learned to read and listen, while I learned to speak my mind and argue my case.
"Uh…yeah, let me just…" I scrambled, frantically shuffling through the stacks of paper and files that seemed to keep piling up on my desk no matter how much work I completed. Ah ha! I plucked the final draft of my article she requested from one particularly menacing looking stack.
"What's wrong with you?"
"W-what?" I stuttered, feeling uncomfortable under her gaze.
"I've been watching your sit here for half and hour doing nothing but stare out the goddamn window and tapping that stupid pencil against your desk. What's going on in there?" She pointed her finger at my forehead.
If she would have known that what she asked was such a loaded question I don't think she would have deviled into such a battleground. What was on my mind? A thousand and one things popped into my stream of consciousness all at once.
Three days ago my life was a chaotic mess of bliss that focused around nothing deeper than trying to get my reluctant father into one last suit fitting, confirming hotel reservations for out of town guests, and picking up my wedding dress. I was overwhelmed, but in the best way possible. When I would get stressed out about paper deadlines, honeymoon details, or family drama I would only have to stop, close my eyes, and remember what all the rushing and planning was leading up to. Walking down a picture perfect aisle to be given to the man who swept me off my feet quickly reminded me that I was so much more than my past. The demons were still there, lurking underneath the surface of my skin, but the incandescent happiness of the present and the anticipation of the future faded everything else into the background. I felt as if I was just steps away from permanently mending deep wounds that took far too long to heal.
But now everything was different.
The beautiful mess that I had come to accept as my life had turned from crumbled but rearranged pieces to nothing but a pile of disintegrated ash. Now I felt overwhelmed for completely different reasons. A family that I've called my own now felt like a hoard of suffocating leeches who took turns taking weakening pulls at me. The worst part about it was that I knew that they only wanted the best for me and I was pushing them away. I wouldn't take advice from Carlisle, I couldn't provide sufficient support for Alice, and I didn't have time to listen to Emmett.
But worst of all was that the most frequented thought running through my head at any given hour of the day was no longer that of my anticipated walk down the aisle, but rather one that stared an abusive ex-fiancé, his transfixing eyes, and the velvety sound of his voice as his his lips pressed against my ear.
Why couldn't I banish him from my head? From my life?
Why did it take only three days for him to destroy every wall I put up in my head, the ones that blocked out the memories of the way he held me against my bedroom floor and ripped my nightclothes from my virgin body?
Why didn't I feel complete and utter disgust when I looked at him, heard his voice, or dreamt about him?
Why?
"Bella?"
Charlotte's slim fingers had reached out and settled on my shaking hand. Her voice was gentle and trimmed with concern. It was only after she had spoken again that I realized that tears had gathered in my eyes. I was so utterly lost in myself that I hadn't even realized they were lingering there.
Did my boss see the broken girl inside of me? Could everyone see it?
"Why don't you leave early for that lunch date with Mike." I looked down frantically at the amount of work that still needed to be completed and a single tear pushed its way passed the barrier of my waterline and slid down my cheek. "Hey, don't worry, that will all be here when you get back."
She pulled me from my chair in one second, and had my backpack up and over my shoulders in the next. I don't remember the walk to the elevator and it was not until later that night that I would recall moments of her kindness seeping through my clouded thoughts. How she pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and wiped all traces of the single traitor tear from my face. The way she wrapped her arm around my back, leading me down the hall.
As soon as the elevator doors slid shut and her Irish green eyes disappeared from view, my breath grew labored, a sudden surge of overwhelming anxiety and fear coursed through me like a derailed train heading straight for the edge of a cliff. My heart pounded forcefully against my chest and each intake of breath I took made the space feel even smaller. I ripped my backpack from its place on my shoulders before slamming my back against the nearest wall, needing the physical support for my body. I dug desperately through the bag, with only one thing in mind.
When my fingers finally closed around the translucent orange bottle I felt almost instantly lighter, but my hands still shook so violently that it took everything I had to remove the white childproof lid. By the time the elevator reached the ground floor and the doors slid open I had already forced two of the little white tablets down my throat, swallowing dryly.
~ ooOoo ~
"Bella," my name sounded so foreign as it broke through the darkness. "Bella, please. Please wake up love."
The sound of the words caused dancing lights to flash over the black. Reds and blues and greens popped and sparkled like the fireworks that I loved as a little girl. I would sit on Charlie's lap in the small park next to the elementary school every Fourth of July, watching the sky illuminate in color.
"There is a lot of people who really need for you to wake up…I need to see those beautiful brown eyes my love."
I wanted desperately to reach out and go towards the words that lit up the perpetual gloom around me, but everything felt too heavy. When I tried to push against the weight I felt something sharp crack and gleam bright like a flash of lightening across a dark menacing sky.
"I remember those eyes staring up at me when you were just a little thing. You loved watching me boil the kettle." A strange type of sound boomed out, like laughter that couldn't quite chock back tears. "You-you thought that every time I made a pot it meant that we were going to have a tea party, that we were supposed to get all dressed up in Alice's princess garb and invite every last teddy bear to come." The deep chuckles sounded so familiar that this time I could almost break passed the nothingness and place a picture to the voice.
"Oh my Isabella," the tears were back and it masked the voice, allowing my recognition to slip away slowly. I wanted to cry out and bring it back, but I didn't know how.
Silence filled the void and soon every last flashing firework dissipated, covered by the opaque blackness. I felt like I would be lost forever.
"I gave my love a cherry, that had no stone." The voice was back in blaring clarity as it sang a beautiful melody that sent a shock out into the darkness. It searched for something it knew it was so close to discovering. "I gave my love a chicken, that had no bone."
Sparks of a past memory played in my head, filling the abyss with vibrant colors and the same melody that rang through me. A little girl with wide brown eyes sits in the warm embrace of a handsome man with locks of blonde hair. His eyes are blue like the clearest sea and when his lips part they sing the same song, an old lullaby meant only for me.
"I told my love a story, that had no end, I gave my love a baby, with no crying."
Carlisle?
Just the sound of his name in my head brought every thought and memory rushing back, breaking through the pitch-black night. The sharpness that split through me before had also returned with ferocious vengeance. It was the pain that now threatened to pull me back into the vast pool of black water, where I had been drowning.
I wanted to cry out to Carlisle, to open my eyes, to scream in agony, but I had to figure out how to take that last step out of unconsciousness and into reality.
"Bella, if you open your eyes, if you come back…I promise he'll never hurt you again." I want to silence his tears, they sound too garish against his usually velvety voice. "Blood is thicker than water… but you can't drink blood my dear. Come back."
I make one last push to find the light that called to me. I follow his words, not caring what he's saying as long as I can still hear the calm tenor.
"Come back."
The brightest white light floods my eyes, leaving me blind, but it spreads the most beautiful and satisfying warmth over me to see such brightness. Even if I never saw again, the white light was heaven compared to the darkness that existed when I closed my eyes. Light shows everything for what it is. You can't hide in the sunshine.
But the whiteness did dissolve, revealing the man with the same blonde hair from my far away memory. However, now it was slightly speckled with strands of white. That didn't matter though; I would have recognized those tresses anywhere. His face, which I longed to see, was hidden against the blanket that covered me. He gripped onto my hand, which I couldn't quite place in my mind to give it life. It almost looked like he had fallen asleep, using my knee as a pillow, but his labored breathing told a different story.
I wanted to see his face. I needed to see him.
"Carlisle," I chocked out his name, surprised to hear how rough it sounded to my ears.
Just as the panic was rising within my chest, blooming to the surface with each moment that I couldn't see him, his head snapped up and his red-rimmed blue eyes met my searching ones. I couldn't help the smile that spread over my face. For that one-minute nothing else but his stare meeting mine mattered. I felt safe, warm, and content.
That moment ended very quickly.
~ ooOoo ~
"Are you alright? You look paler than usual."
I had no doubt that I was as pale as a ghost, eyes wide and probably bloodshot, and my hair wind swept into thick knots. If anything, my fiancé's observation just covered the bare minimum of what I actually looked like. It had taken me thirty minutes of walking around the city, arms crossed and clinging to my sides, before my breath regulated back to normal and the panic dispersed back to the dark corners of my mind.
As Mike pushed my chair in and took his own seat across from me I felt torn. Part of me thought that it would be best if he knew nothing about my small lapse today. Ignorance is bliss they say. But Michael wasn't just my college boyfriend anymore. He wasn't the guy who I felt that I had to hide away my beaten insides from for fear that I would be too much baggage for him to handle. The man in the tailored Armani blue suit was going to be my husband in four days. How long could I keep hiding these kinds of things from him? Did it really do us any good?
"I actually wasn't feeling very well this morning." I spoke hesitantly, feeling the truth bubbling up from within me. It scared me.
His eyes popped up from behind the menu he was consulting, he placed it aside so he could stare blatantly at my serious expression.
"What?"
"You know I have those terrible night terrors sometimes and they leave me so flustered the day after. I had a little bit of a panic attack in the office today," his eyes grew so wide I thought he was going to start to resemble an anime character. "It wasn't anything serious, I had my medication with me and Charlotte sent me outside for some air." I tried to sound cool and collected, but it was more difficult than I would have thought, especially since the panic still lingered around the numbness of the medication.
"Bella!" Mike reached his hand across the table and gripped mine firmly, rubbing his thumb against my knuckles.
"Oh, calm down," I almost scoffed at him. "I've had much worse. I just wanted to let you know…I'm tried of trying to hold it all back." I said hesitantly.
"Bella, honey, I never want you to hold anything back from me. I'm going to be your husband in a few days. I always want to know what's going on with you. I want to know everything." The table was small enough that he was able to reach across it and place his free hand on my cheek, cupping it lightly. I leaned into his warmth, never wanting the feeling of his skin caressing mine to end. It was one of those flawless moments that come when you least expected it, but also when you needed it the most.
Soon the waiter was there to take our order and pour us lemon water. The special moment was lost in the insignificant ones that demanded to follow.
"In other news," I laughed because I felt like it was the only way to keep the mood light, "I received a call from a woman at Seattle magazine yesterday and I never got the chance to tell you."
In the muddled last twenty-four hours I had forgotten all about the phone call Rachel Marsh made to me yesterday morning. I would have to call her back today if she wanted us to do anything before the wedding. I wasn't thrilled with the idea of the limelight but what could the harm in a few pictures and an interview be. I would love a contact within the magazine world of this city.
"Yeah? What did they want?"
"She wants to feature me as part of a piece they're doing on working women in the city. She saw your mother's nuptial announcement in the society pages and thought we'd make the perfect example of Seattle's picture perfect couple." I smiled widely, letting the sarcasm seep heavily into my words.
He smiled at me in a way that had me thinking about the events that had transpired in my bedroom last night. I wanted to feel his skin against mine again. My cheeks flushed brightly as I realized I was sitting in a restaurant publically ogling my fiancé. Thinking about what lie just underneath that shirt and tie.
"Make your jokes smartass, let them take their pictures and print our names. I could care less, as long as I get to see you walk down that aisle in your beautiful white dress I'll be the happiest man in the world." His smile kept things airy and light, but his words felt heavy with worth.
Four days.
"I love you," I breathed out the words. They hang in the air between our bodies and close faces, before being whipped away by the summer breeze, never to be heard by anyone but us…
"Have you heard that our mother's are quite the companions these days?" Mike spoke playfully against my ear.
We walked down the street of our favorite city. His arm was wrapped around my waist, tugging me close to him. My book bag was hanging off one of his shoulders, and I couldn't help the giggles that erupted from me watching him adjust the straps. I had my own arm crossed over my stomach so it could hold onto his hand that rested on my side.
"I heard rumblings of such things from my father yesterday when I called him. I swear that man will be the death of me. He keeps trying to get me to cancel his last suit fitting for tomorrow."
I laughed once more before a thought popped into my head, causing me to stop walking and spin away from his grip so I was facing him on the sidewalk.
"And another thing, tell your incessant brother that if I even hear of any strippers being within fifty yards of you on Thursday night I will put the phrase 'hell hath no furry like a woman's scorn', to use." I placed my hands on my hips in a serious fashion.
His eyes sparkled as he reached for me in a sudden and swift movement, pulling me into his arms and off the ground. I shrieked out, drawing the attention of dozens of people who observed our sidewalk shenanigans, as he twirled me round and round until I was dizzy and thought I might be seeing my lunch on the ground if he didn't put me down.
When his lips touched mine, it felt different than usual. There was still a spark that shocked my system in the most pleasant of ways, but a deep longing turned in my stomach. The thought that radiated from the back of my mind caused me to push away abruptly from Michael as his tongue tried to part my lips.
"Is this real?"
"It can be."
I gasped out.
"What's wrong?" Mike's look of concern was so genuine that it hurt me to look at him after such a thought had been in my mind, causing me to pull away. But I just placed a smile back on my face and reached up on my toes to place one lingering closed mouth kiss on his rejected lips.
"You're going to make me late mister, and I have so much work I'm starting to dream about red pens and typewriters in my dreams." I laughed but I knew it didn't sound convincing.
Whatever he may have thought about my strange behavior he must have chalked it up to the medication I took this afternoon, because he didn't call me out on my weak excuse. He placed my bag securely back on my shoulders as we reached the entrance of my building. He kissed my cheek and whispered 'I love you' into my ear, sending a small shiver down my back.
He backed up slowly in the street, still facing me with a stupid goofy smile stretched across his face. It was only as he began to turn his back to walk the two blocks down to the Newton family law firm that I realized I hadn't confirmed dinner plans with him for tonight.
"Shit," I spoke quietly to myself before I called after him and dashed down the street to meet him at the crosswalk.
"I forgot to tell you!" I was out of breath from the short sprint and he stared at me like I was crazy.
"You seem to be doing that a lot lately." He smirked, brushing a piece of stray hair form my face.
"Yeah, well you knew going into this that I have shitty short term memory." We both laughed. "Edward said that he could do dinner tonight at 7:30, is that okay?" At the mention of Edward's name Mike's body went ridge. I could see his fist clench and his jaw tighten, but his expression remained benign. "It's really the only free night we both have before the wedding. Let's just go and get it over with."
He gave me a curt nod. "That's fine, I'll be by your place at seven." One more kiss to the forehead and he was gone, turning on his heals and never looking back.
It seemed to be a pattern these days that I was the one left standing alone watching as the people in my life walk away from me.
I swallowed the thought down before returning to work.
~ ooOoo ~
I fidgeted uncomfortably in the passenger seat, squirming about to get my dress to ride lower on my body. It was no use though, it was already perfect and I was futilely stretching the fabric.
"Bella, you haven't sat still the entire time we've been in the car, what's wrong?" Mike sighed, sounding frustrated and tired. His hand on the stick shift was staring to turn white from clutching it so forcefully.
I let out a huff of my own frustrated air. "I'm sorry, I just feel so…so awkward. Nothing seems right. My dress is too tight, my hair looks terrible, the leather is sticking to my legs, and somehow I am both hot and cold!" I was feeling more and more exasperated as the minutes slowly ticked by. When we finally made it to the restaurant I was wound so tight I jumped when I felt Mike's hand on my back.
"Deep breaths Bella," He breathed into my ear.
We were seated by an expansive set of windows that reached floor to ceiling, giving us a beautiful vista of the Seattle coastline. I stared at the water as it sparkled under the light of the setting sun. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath that smelled like fresh seafood and bitter garlic. It warmed my insides, releasing the knot in my stomach and making me feel a little less heavy. My shoulders slumped and I felt the last rays of sunshine for the day cascade across my skin. I could have fallen asleep to dreams of beaches and warm days spent on the lake with Charlie, but all too soon Mike tugged my hand out from under my chin ripping me from my daydreams.
"Hey, if I have to sit up for this dinner, so do you." He kissed my cheek before flagging down the waiter to order a bottle of wine for the table.
I felt the air change around me the moment he walked through the bistro doors. We were yards away, but I didn't need to see him to know he was only a few steps away. Mike was busy tasting the wine the waiter had brought over when they finally came into view. Something strange happened to my body when I caught sight of him striding into the restaurant like he belonged in a Carly Simon song. Gone was the grey suit of my dreams. However that didn't stop him from looking like a model straight out of GQ magazine in his fitted casual navy blue suit. His starch white shirt underneath was unbutton at the top and I could see the glint of the gold crucifix necklace that Esme got him for his first holy communion hidden just beneath the fabric. His eyes caught sight of mine as I finished taking in every aspect of him in. The green against the blue fabric made them appear almost neon. My cheeks flushed red.
It wasn't until he was almost to our table that I noticed the figure that stood behind him, hidden in the shadows of his tall form. There she was, the girl from the coffee house yesterday. I don't know why I was so shocked to see her, but something boiled inside me as our gazes met.
"Isabella, Michael, so glad we could make this work out." Edward's voice commanded the space around him in a way that I had never noticed before. All eyes turned to him and he knew he had us in his grip. I guess with all the practice he had at commanding me he'd gotten good at it over the years.
I looked away suddenly, not wanting to be another planet that revolved around Edward's sun.
How was it that I found myself sitting in front of my ex fiancé, with my fiancé at my side, and a girl who I'd just met and felt an overwhelming amount of animosity towards for no reason. My Italian dress, which was getting more use in the last week than it had in the last year, still felt too tight against my ribcage and too short as it ran up my thighs. And Mike's arm, which across the back of my chair, made me feel confined to the small space I occupied by the window, that was now cloaked in the darkness of the night sky. The girl, whose name was Elizabeth, Lizzy for short, came off too personable, too smiley, and much too friendly, three qualities that in reality should make an amicable person. But now, looking at her made me want to throw up.
She was very easy to look at, with an oval shaped face that looked like it would not fully loose the roundness of childhood. Her nose was squat and button like, her cheeks painted an effervescent shade of rosy pink that matched her naked, full lips, which parted often to show off her straight white smile. A set of shiny bangs covered her forehead and let loose to a cascade of wavy dark blonde hair that hung over her shoulders and down her back. Her eyes, much like Edward's, were very striking at first glance. I could imagine that it was the first thing that most people noticed when they first meet her. Not the slight deformity of her right eye that made it droop a little lower than the left, or the dark purple circles that she took time to cover up, or the interestingly positioned brown beauty mark that blotched her left cheek, but rather the strange swirl of blue and green that existed behind a flutter of full lashes.
I did my best to ignore Edward, not wanting to be thrown back into a panic at the sight of his face, which would no doubt make me recall the dreams and nightmares that have plagued me throughout the day. Mike's confining arm was the only thing that truly kept me from jumping out of my seat and heading for the car.
"So Elizabeth, Bella told me that you two are coworkers?" Mike was always good at icebreakers he was a freshmen advisor for three years in college and he always knew how to get a room talking.
She smiled again and I grew even more agitated.
"I think that's putting our professional relationship a little too casual. He's technically my boss." She smiled turning her gaze quickly to Edward, as if to find his approval, but he was still staring at me.
I refused to reciprocate the look and instead got lost in my wine glass, chugging down the large serving in one gulp before pouring myself another glassful.
"Yes, but Lizzy and I have been friends much longer than we've been in business together. We both attended Columbia together." His voice floated around me, wrapping around my neck, making it nearly impossible to swallow the liquid in my mouth.
"He broke my TV at a party my roommate insisted on having the first weekend back our sophomore year and I was so livid I tracked him down and read him his rights." Her laugh was one that I could easily see as a subject in some piece of poetry. A piece detailing every last sharp note and breathy decibel in stanza after stanza of words pulled together to make artful phrases like, "just a melody sprinkled with sugar".
The story was so innocent and lighthearted. Something straight out of one of those bad teenage drama comedies that Alice was always trying to get me to watch. Her anecdote and poetic laughter drew me from the alcohol and back to looking at her face.
"Now she reads rights to all of my clientele." My eyes shifted to Edward as he finished speaking.
He took a sip from his own wine glass. I tilted my head slightly to the side without even knowing it and stared at his perfect complexion, taking in his creamy skin and perfectly slicked back bronze hair. I would have never placed Edward in such a situation. It sounded like the story of a giggly girl surrounded by her friends who gushed over every last detail of the couples first meeting.
"Always a pleasure to meet a fellow member of the 'scum of the earth' club." My fiancé laughed wholehearted and the deep familiar sound had me pulling my eyes away from Edward as soon as his raised his from his glass.
"Where did you get your law degree?"
"Harvard."
I was startled when Mike's hand, the one still draped over my chair, slipped onto my shoulder and tugged me towards him. He was trying to draw me into the conversation.
"Hear that Bella, we have a rival at the table. Should we leave now or just force her into singing the Yale fight song?" His eyes were so clear they gave off a jovial sparkle. I hated myself for my sour mood and distracted thoughts.
"You both went to Yale?" The girl addressed me this time.
"Ah…yeah, that's actually were we met." I smiled, trying my best to bring myself into the conversation. But it all felt so exceptionally fake, especially when I pulled at Mike's lapel jokingly and gave him a smile that didn't reach my eyes. "His father calls us the Yale sweethearts."
Mike's eyes caught mine even though I tried to look away from him, ashamed of my attitude and lackluster enthusiasm. But his gaze was deep, hooking into me and pushing away the worry for just a second. I could even ignore the man of my dreams and the monster of my nightmares that sat across from me...for a moment.
"As deep and true as Yale blue." He quoted his father's favorite saying. He turned his gaze back to Lizzy who looked a little star struck as she stared at our interaction. "My mother and father both went to Yale and met on the same walkway were I picked Bella up off the ground." He laughed at his inside joke and my cheeks flushed their signature red again.
"And Bella, how do you and Edward know each other?" Elizabeth's voice left a trail of silence behind it.
His gaze was like a magnet, pulling me in and forcing me to focus on him and only him. His general disposition looked ridged and angry. The skin of his face was pulled tightly against his clenched jaw, his nose flared, his coloring also slightly flushed. But his eyes were open wide, staring at me like I was the only thing in the room. It made me uncomfortable and yet it was as if he set my insides on fire with just one look. Mike's arm tightened around me and for a second I was certain there was about to be some sort of brawl for my hand between the two.
The whole thing was so intense I couldn't help the reaction that bubbled up from my fluttering stomach and out of my mouth. The sound of my giggles was a completely backwards reaction to the tense situation, but it all seemed so comical to me. The lack of sleep was making me delirious and I couldn't help the laugher. The sound of it, high pitched and full, made me laugh even harder. Soon I was clutching the table trying to get each breath out just in time to take in as much oxygen as I could. I clutched my stomach and the entire table stared at me like I was clinically insane. Maybe I was. Everything was so upside down these days that I may end up in a straight jacket come Saturday afternoon, not a wedding dress.
"I'm sorry," I managed to get out as I righted myself and wiped away the tears that had started to fall. "I'm sorry," I repeated as they continued to gawk.
No one said anything and I finally managed to clear my throat and calm myself from the hysteria. I took a sip of wine from my glass, which now had more of my lipstick on the rim than what was left on my lips.
"The Cullen's practically raised me, they're more like family than friends." I looked back over at Edward who was wearing his favorite side smirk. "Edward's essentially my brother." The words felt just as wrong in my head as they did leaving my mouth. Especially when all I wanted to do was lean across the table and feel the stubble on his face rubbing against my own.
The disappointment in his eyes came in a flash, but disintegrated quickly with the blink of his long black lashes.
I stood up suddenly from the table, nearly knocking my glass off the table with the abrupt movement.
"Excuse me." I practically climb over Mike's lap to get away form the table, the tension, and the hard stare of my ex fiancé which seemed to follow me around the room as I escaped to the restrooms.
I didn't even bother entering the room marked with the word 'ladies' in a delicate script. I wasn't willing to risk seeing my reflection in the mirror and see the fraud of a woman that looked back at me. I could feel the anxiety rising up from my stomach at the same time that the ulcer sent out its sharp pains towards my chest. My heart ached, my eyelids felt heavy, and each breath I took felt inadequate to sustain my body's need.
"Fuck," I whisper to myself, pressing the heels of my palms into my eye sockets as I leaned against the wall in the dimly lit and suffocating hallway.
"You have quite the knack for running away." Edward's voice was both the last thing I wanted to hear and yet the only thing I needed to calm myself.
I took one deep breath in before removing my hands from my face. The black splotches that inhibited my vision cleared slowly, revealing Edward in bits and pieces. When all of him came into view there was nothing keeping me from taking all of him in, greedily and fully consuming the vision of him before me.
"Why?"
One word fell from my dry lip. It crossed the space between us slowly, creeping along the burgundy wallpaper and polished hardwood floors like the fog that covers the harbors in the early hours of the morning. The crowded room of people just beyond us fell away leaving only that one word and us.
"Why what?" He takes a step towards me in the already close space.
"Why everything!" I throw my hands up in the air frustrated with the open-ended question I'd just posed. "Why are you here? Why do you keep popping up in my life? Why do I feel like I'm suffocating when you're in the room? Why do you still scare me? Why can't you just let me move one and be happy?"
By the time I'm done with my verbal rant of questions, I'm out of breath, panting so hard it sounds like I've just got back from a marathon. I'm also standing only a foot from him, having moved from my spot on the wall, my conscience no longer willing to be a flower that is only to be observed from afar. I demanded to be notice, to be heard. I was using my words…finally.
"Bella…" He closed the distance that existed between our bodies and grabbed my right hand in the most sensual way, first trialing his fingers along the inside of my wrist where his rough pads met with the softest skin, before following the path to my hand which he cradled loosely. It was the first time that I let him touch me, no pulling away, no screams of protest. I gasped out at the electric current that flowed through me every second he continued to touch me. His eyes held onto mine like I was his salvation and I held onto his like he was mine. My whole body felt like it would melt into a warm puddle on the floor any minute.
We just stared into each other's eyes and let ourselves exist together for a moment in the silence that wrapped around me like a safe embrace.
But my thoughts came crashing back to reality and I realized what I was doing, whom I was with, and where we were. My fiancé sat just beyond the wall behind me. I thought the guilt would consume me alive.
I pulled my hand from Edward in one violent jerk, as if just the touch of his flesh against mine would burn me if I held on any longer. I cast my eyes down to the floor and quickly turned to make my way back to Michael, the too perfect Lizzy, and my plate of awaiting crab legs and fresh tuna.
"Bells," he called after me, but I didn't turn back.
Mike and Lizzy managed to be oblivious to the tension that existed between Edward and I for the rest of our meal. Each of us answered our respective questions, made our mundane remarks, and polished off our seafood without looking at one another. The lawyers kept themselves busy with deposition talk and law school jargon that went over my head and had me dumping glass after glass of wine down my parched throat.
Just as an insisting Edward paid the check and our plates had been cleared, the 'coworker' gave the perfect conclusion to the abominable evening.
"Isabella your dress is superb, where did you get it?" She gushed, staring at my dress.
I looked down at the garb in question. I got lost in the swirls and patterns of the Italian craftsmanship, remembering the way the Tuscan sun felt as Mike and I spent our days sitting in small cafes drinking wine and our nights tangled around one another.
Had I had it all figure out then?
"Oh, I actually got it for her when we went to Italy, I think we got that one in Florence." Mike said nonchalantly as he pulled my chair out and grabbed my hand.
I couldn't even fake a smile as my gaze met Edward's for the first time since we left the hallway. The memory in his eyes was so vivid and fresh that I could still hear his words ringing in my ear.
"Oh, hay babe, so I was thinking, do you want to make a stop in Florence while we're in Italy?"
Florence.
