A/N: Hello! Glad you all enjoyed that last little chapter, I promise this story still has a kick or two left before the grand finale. By the by, this chapter goes along smashingly with the song Falling For You by Seabird, you can look it up on YouTube ;) Till then…
Chapter Ten:
"Alice? Can I get some help up here? Oh! These boxes will be the death of me!" Sophie cried.
Alice, snapping up from her work at the cashiers counter late one night, swiftly approached the poor woman, boxes towering over her fragile frame. But just before she reached her distressed employer, the sudden sound of the front door's bells jingling abruptly and a low voice gasping "Oh!"
In one agile motion, Alice watched as, just before the boxes could tumble to the floor, Michael grasped Sophie's bent elbows and steadied her before she herself could fall.
"Oh…" Sophie froze, staring back into Michael's motionless face.
Alice stared intently, watching the heat pass over Sophie's face in a flush of red while Michael's eyes shone bright with laughter; something she hadn't seen in what seemed a lifetime.
"You 'kay?" He asked in his chipper Irish drawl as Sophie scrambled to stand upright.
She seemed flustered a moment and forced a kind smile. "I'm fine, thank you so much…?"
"Michael," He flashed a grin, taking his faded navy blue fedora in his hands, "Michael McAlister."
"Sophie Hargreaves." Sophie made to shake his hand but stumbled as her boxes trembled with the movement.
Alice watched in wonder as the simply stared into each other, like men thirsting to death, suddenly on their knees before a gushing stream. Not knowing quite what to do, Alice quickly cleared her throat and the two of them snapped to attention, turning to her with shameful faces.
"Alice." Michael grinned wolfishly, undertones of boy-caught-with-the-cookie-jar still lingering in his features. "Just came by to take you home."
"Alright." Alice nodded, smiling awkwardly. "Sophie, this is my uncle Michael."
"Ah." Sophie nodded, her soft blue eyes shifting around nervously. "Well, your checks on the counter so…"
"See you tomorrow then." Alice took her oblivious uncle by the arm and dragged him out of the store. "Tell Melanie I said hello!"
"Will do!"
When the shop was safe and out of earshot, Alice turned on her heel and stared her uncle down with sharp, playful eyes. "You like her!"
"Wha'?" He scoffed, fumbling with his car keys and ushering her into their beat up old truck. "Bullocks."
"Don't lie." She chided as they drove along, whistling the tune 'Michael and Sophie sittin' in a tree… K.I.S.S.I.N.G."
"Stop that." He snapped quietly; abruptly. "I'm a married man, Alice."
"That never stopped Portia…" Alice muttered, her slippery tongue betraying her.
"Wha'?" The car jerked to a halt, eliciting a heated honk from another vehicle. "Wha' did you jus' say?"
"Nothing…" Alice mumbled, red faced and hiding her chin to her chest, feeling much like Edward at the moment.
"No, tha' wasn't nothing'." He snapped, swinging the car into the nearest shoulder. "Now tell me wha's going on!"
"I-I…" Alice choked on her tears. "I saw…"
"What did you see?" He thundered, sweat beading his brow.
"I s-s-s-aw… Portia…" Alice sniffed, feeling the heat of the gaze upon her. "W-with another…"
His grip, somehow upon her arm, although she did not feel it till then, slackened and she slumped to a heap of sobs against her window. Michael's face drained of all color, his lips trembling like darling buds in the rough winds of May*. Rain splattered against the windshield and they sat together, the only sound to keep the silence from smothering the both of them. Taking the wheel in his shaking hands, Michael gingerly switched gears into drive and they made their slow way home.
Alice cried silently into her pillow that night, listening to the mix of the rain outside her window and the brawl unfolding below her room. Screams, accusing, defensive, abrasive, pleading, roaring, all echoed to her ears, and nothing she clutched to her head could keep out the pain she felt welling up in her chest. Her pain, only a mere shadow of her uncle's, she thought, overtook her, shook her, tossed her about her bed in violent sobs, until she could hardly breathe.
Why? Why did Portia have to cheat? She asked herself. Why couldn't she just be a good little wife and smile everyday and kiss her husband with feeling and tend her dead garden to life and let the dog out and bring in handfuls of daisies for a vase to keep on the table?
When, at last, Alice heard the front door slam and the violent roar of Portia's Mercedes as it whipped out the drive, she crawled out of bed, an oblivious Jack lying in his bed, snoring away. Creeping out her door, she drifted down the stairs in a daze, the hem of her nightdress tickling her calves. Down the hall she treaded, the weight of her heart resting in her ankles, dragging each of her solemn steps.
"Michael…?" She whispered tentatively, gasping at the sight.
Slumped over the kitchen counter, half empty bottle of whiskey in one hand, the other clutching his swollen black eye, he turned away sullenly. "Go away…"
"Michael…" She felt fresh tears streak down her face. "I-I'm so sorr-"
"Out…" Was his only reply, curt and sharp tongued.
"Mi-"
"OUT!" He roared viciously, his face contorting in fury, red and feral.
Jumping, she fled down the hall and, with trembling hands; she fished a heavy overcoat and a pair of boots from the closet and threw them on sloppily. Wrenching open the front door, she slammed it in her wake and felt the rain stream down her face, cooling her flushed skin.
Racing down the street, she felt the world pass in a blur, time lost in the whirl, nothing registering until she was pressing open the gate to the castle on the hill, not entirely sure how she managed to climb there. The rain drew a hazy curtain around her eyes, or was that her tears? Either way, her path to the front door was a messily executed one.
Flinging open the door, she collapsed to the sound of its slam echoing in the mansion. There, in her pool of tears and moonlit rainwater, she wept and wept until she felt her tears would run down the hill in mighty cataracts and flood the poor little town off the face of the earth. All her tears would wipe her world clean of this mess, she pondered, and she would stay here forever, with Edward on the hill, where nothing could ever hurt her again.
"Alice?"
Biting her lip, she shook harder, even as Edward knelt at her side, his face tight with worry, fingers snipping anxiously.
"J-Just…" She fought to speak. "Just h-h-hold m-me… p-ple-please-se?"
With slow, deliberate movements, he swayed closer to her and, with the gentlest of motions, wrapped his arms around her trembling frame, keeping his lethal fingers at bay. Cradling her head to his chest, he closed his eyes and took shameful pleasure in letting his nose sink into the sweet scented depths of her golden waves. Alice, clutching him close like an anchor to this world, felt her sobs die down into gentle twitches as she inhaled the smells of leather and ancient books clambering to hang on old shelves; his scent. There they knelt the entire night, holding one another close, Alice with relief washing over her and Edward with confusion ebbing away into pleasant waves of comfort at the notion that she sought shelter here, with him.
But when, alas, she nodded off against his steadily thudding heart, he was at a loss of what was to be done. So, ushering her unconscious form against him, he backed into the wall and gazed up at the rising moon through the clearing storm clouds, his love resting against him, lying between his sprawled out legs. Her hands rested against his shoulders, her breath tickling the hollow of his throat, even through his leather collar. His sorrowful visage framed both his black pooling eyes, holding his Alice close to him in the darkness.
It were as if his heart was home again.
A/N: Bugger my companion! She makes endless lists and lists and lists of supplies to pack. This toothbrush, that tee-shirt, those packs of peanuts for the flight! God help me… I'd rather wing it (so to speak) instead. So help me God if she nags me ONE more time…
Anywho, hope this chapter left you bittersweetly, as it was rather that way when I wrote it. Until later, my friends.
P.R.