Chapter 9: The Morning After

"Spend all your time waiting for that second chance,
For a break that would make it okay,
There's always one reason to feel not good enough,
And it's hard at the end of the day,
I need some distraction, oh beautiful release,
Memory seeps from my veins,
Let me be empty and weightless and maybe,
I'll find some peace tonight."
-"Angel" by Sarah McLachlan

I awoke to the fresh aroma of coffee brewing. The sheets next to me were cold but still smelled of Bella. I grinned and buried my face into the pillow. Strawberries.

I felt the bed shift and then start to shake. "Up and at 'em, Edward," my personal angel sang.

"Five more minutes," I mumbled, trying not to smile.

She quickly tickled my side, "I made pancakes."

"Chocolate-chip?" I asked rolling onto my back and staring at her.

"Of course," she replied kissing my forehead and ripping the sheets away so I would have more incentive to get up. My chest was bare and cold and I thought I caught her staring at one of my tattoos longer than normal. I looked down at it.

'Vita Bella' was tattooed in the loose pattern of a heart just above the organ. I'd done that one also with Bella in mind. Just so that she would always be close to my heart.

I slid out of the bed and trotted into the kitchen where Bella was already dishing out chocolate-chip pancakes. She looked up at my and smiled slightly, "Your hair looks awful."

"You're one to talk," I said, indicating to her mused curls. Not that it looked awful, rather sexy. But I wasn't going to tell her that.

"I didn't shower after my date last night and Alice put copious amounts of hair spray in it," she said, running her fingers through her thick, brown locks.

I smiled at her and kissed her cheek, "Thanks for breakfast, Bella. It smells delicious!"

She grinned back and handed me a bottle of syrup and a fork. I sat down at the table opposite her and poured the syrup over my stack of pancakes. Bella ate daintily while I took large bites and practically shoveled it into my mouth. "Chew Edward," Bella admonished as she took a sip of her milk.

I smiled at her and slowed down enough to enjoy the breakfast she had cooked for me.

"So what do you want to do today?" I asked, pushing a chunk of pancake around my plate and smothering it in syrup.

"I don't know," she said quietly.

"Are you still upset about last night," I asked, gauging her reaction as I took more slow bites.

She nodded, "God, Edward, you have no idea. I mean I cried during the movie—but that man sobbed. It was ridiculous! What the hell is wrong with guys these days?"

I shrugged, "I don't know, Bella." You should have realized that guys are scumbags long ago. You should also realize that I'm madly in love with you. Yeah, Bella. You're clueless.

"Let's just go do something that will make me forget about all of this," she said, waving her hands through the hair and almost knocking her glass of milk over.

Oh Bella, I could make you forget your name, I wanted to purr at her; but I settled for, "We could go take some pictures. I've been meaning to head to the meadow for a while now."

She smiled, "A trip to the meadow sounds nice."

I smiled back and got up to put my plate in the sink. "Ok, sweetheart, if you want you can head home and get ready and I'll pick you up in about two hours?"

"Can't I just stay here?" She asked, fidgeting with the oversized shirt she wore—my shirt—and staring at me with those pleading dark eyes. "I've missed you."

I melted right then and there, "Sure. I think I've probably got some of your clothes around here somewhere"—not that I keep them in my closet and smell them when we're apart, because that'd be creepy—"you can shower first, I'll clean up the dishes."

She nodded and scurried towards my bathroom. I tossed our plates into the sink and let the water run as I searched through my cabinets for dish soap. I could hear the shower start running and then the unmistakable sound of Bella singing in the shower.

She was loud and off-key but endearing. God, I loved that woman. If I loved her anymore it felt like I would explode.

I smiled and rushed through the dishes, trying not to think about Bella naked and wet just down the hall.

Suddenly she appeared at the doorway to the kitchen, wrapped in my robe. I stifled a groan. It fell all the way to the tops of her feet and she had to push the sleeves up so that her hands were exposed.

"I need clothes, Edward," she said with a grin, her dark hair hanging in limp waves around her face. Several tendrils were plastered to her forehead and I had to resist the urge to push them behind her ears.

I smiled tightly at her and maneuvered past her into my bedroom. I threw open my bottom drawer and tossed her a pair of jeans. She smiled at me, "Don't suppose I could just wear one of your shirts?"

I sighed as she snagged a white button down from one of the hangers in my closet and sped off to the bathroom before I could protest. Damn woman was going to be the death of me.

Yeah sure, Bella. Just wear one of my shirts and look sexy. You're making it real easy on me here.

I sighed and pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a sweater. Bella sauntered back into the room, rolling the sleeves of my shirt up past her elbows. God, she looked delicious in my shirt.

I distracted myself by gathering my camera equipment.

"Can I help?" Bells asked.

"Yeah, grab that lens over there," I said, indicating to one that I'd left on my dresser. She picked it up reverently, carefully and slid it into its proper space in my carrying case.

"So what kind of pictures do you want to take?" She asked conversationally.

Pictures of you in that insanely hot shirt that you should probably button up to the collar before I have a heart attack from staring at your cleavage. I wanted to reply, but my mouth moved and I said, "The trees in the meadow."

"You always photograph trees, though," she said.

"Yeah, so why change a good thing?" I asked—despite the double meaning of the words. 'Why in the world change a good thing—i.e. this relationship—because I feel the need for something different?'

She shrugged, "You should take pictures of something different—hire models or something. Alice could help you style fashion shots."

I lifted one shoulder noncommittally, "I don't want to work with models."

"What's so bad about models?" She asked.

"Nothing, it's just that I'd like to work with people whose IQ's I can't confuse with their shoe sizes," I said as I zipped up my bag.

Bella slapped me in the shoulder, "Edward, that's such a stereotype. Not all models are stupid."

I grinned at her, "Would you model for me?"

"Sure," she said with gusto, "just make sure Alice doesn't put me in something skimpy."

Damn it! That would be the entire reason to photograph you, Bella. You're ruining all of the fun. "I'll see what I can do," I said and then couldn't resist adding, "No guarantees."

She kicked my butt and then screeched, scandalized, "Edward!"

"Bella!" I shot back grinning.

She wrinkled her nose at me and then stuck out her tongue. I reciprocated by sticking out my own tongue and making a face at her. She was the first to break and smile.

"I don't suppose you have any of my shoes here, do you?" She said, staring at her bare feet and wiggling her toes. I had to resist the urge to capture her foot and press tender kisses to it—because that would definitely be crossing the line in our friendship.

"Yeah, I think a pair of your Cons are in the front closet," I said, snagging a pair of my tennis shoes from under my bed and pointing in the direction of the closet.

"Ok," she said, disappearing around the doorway. I heard her rummaging around and then finally a muffled 'a-ha' when she found what she was looking for.

I took a deep breath and blew it out.

Thirty minutes—and one drive-thru stop at McDonalds—later we were on the road towards Forks.

I could have probably driven that road blind-folded. I knew it by heart because I had driven there so much, mainly with Bella as my co-pilot. She was always next to me whenever I drove to Forks.

And I knew that was going to change pretty soon. Soon enough she would have another guy who would drive her home to go see Charlie. She would be messing with someone else's car radio and picking the crappy radio stations and spilling drinks on their leather upholstery.

Maybe this would be the last time I traveled to our meadow with her.

I had to make it count.

Because if I didn't all I would have left were memories.

Bella is so oblivious. [sighs] I know a lot of people keep saying that Bella is blind and needs to realize that Edward loves her. But that's pretty much the plot of the story, people. Yeah there's more meat, but you guys have to be patient, I'm setting the scene for it.

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