Disclaimer: These characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Unfortunately. :D

A/N:

Chapter 10, Forbidden Fruit.

This one may surprise you a little. Or piss you off, I can never tell.

See you at the bottom.

"So, anyhow, I agreed to dinner just simply to shut her up—god, you have no idea how much she could talk—and…"

"Bella! Edward!"

Oh, no, please tell me I imagined that horrid nasally voice.

If there was one person I couldn't stand in high school, one person I avoided at all costs—even if it meant going to long way to bio-chem and waiting outside the cafeteria until the line was really long—it was Jessica Stanley.

She was the nails-on-the-chalkboard voice that haunted my dreams, and the one that had always, always—no matter where (even at our wedding)—flirted with Edward.

I heard her stripper heels clonking on the linoleum as she strutted—more like jerked—over to Edward and I. The way she walked reminded me of one of those flailing fish that flopped all around on dry land. Only diagonal. It was hard to watch.

"Edwardddd." She giggled in that awful way of hers.

He grimaced. "Hello, Jessica."

She smiled smugly as if just by him saying her name he'd paid her the biggest compliment in the world. Then she turned to me.

"And Isabella Cullen."

"Swan." I corrected automatically—for the hundredth time this week—but I felt like an ass when I saw Edward recoil in my peripheral as if I'd just kicked him.

"Right, right. I think you mentioned that before." Jessica said, clueless.

She looked back and forth between Edward and I, her eyes alight with the gossip she'd no doubt run off and tell all her little cronies.

"So you two are having lunch together, huh?" Edward and I exchanged a glance. "Must be awkward, you know, after you two were married." I nearly slapped her but I felt Edward's foot settle on mine under the table. Not a completely welcome gesture, but it calmed me no less. "And after the divorce and all… jeeze, Bella you really have changed a lot. You were okay before, but wow, I mean you really are pretty and…"

"Jessica." Edward growled from between clenched teeth. "I think Bella and I were in the middle of a conversation. So if you wouldn't mind…" He made a shooing motion with his hands and I resisted the urge to laugh aloud.

Jessica gave a huff, realizing she wasn't wanted—not that that had ever stopped her before—and made a show of flicking her hair over her shoulder and swaying her hips as she walked away.

I turned to Edward, my smile large.

"You're my hero, y'know that?"

He faced me, his annoyance now replaced with a smile that matched my own.

"Her voice…it just makes me crazy. Mom always taught me to be polite, y'know? To be a gentleman. But that girl…it's almost impossible."

I laughed, shaking my head. "I used to purposely ignore her in high school. I'd always have to go the long way to French and Biochemistry and just about every other class we had together, because she'd always be yapping in my ear the whole way. I couldn't stand it. It was worth being late a few times—I just didn't want to hear her mouth."

Edward grinned at my story. "I know you did. I knew back then how much you hated her. I'd detain her sometimes on purpose, because I hated how much she bothered you. Those kind of people…they're like leeches. They find a strong-minded person like you, someone they can follow, because they just can't live their own lives. They need someone to copy. It's exhausting to watch."

The waitress picked that moment to bring out our food, setting it in front of us and leaning down so her cleavage went right into Edward's face.

He politely scooted closer to the wall in the booth, his eyes on me the whole time.

Eventually, flirty waitress took the hint and left—finally.

We had only started indulging in our food when Edward wiped his mouth with his napkin and began talking once more.

"Where were we? Oh, yeah… So I went out to dinner with Tanya, solely to shut her up. She had one of those voices like Jessica and Lauren." He visibly shuddered. "It practically made my ears bleed. We talked about inconsequential things during dinner. It wasn't a very nice place, though the food wasn't terrible. I didn't feel anything, though, Bella. That's what you're not grasping. I didn't feel anything for her. Sitting there with her then, I felt numb. I wanted to go home. I wanted to see my wife."

I interrupted him. "Then why didn't you, Edward? Why didn't you at least call me?"

He shook his head, looking down at the table then back up at me, as if to summon the strength to continue.

"You were—for lack of a better word—dead."

Ouch. That one stung.

He saw me flinch. "I'm sorry, Bella." He took my hand from across the table and held it between his own. They were warm, soft, but calloused at the tips. I found myself drawing strength from those hands, examining them as he looked at my face.

"It's no excuse, but, I felt as though I was losing you. It was—unbearable. We'd just lost a child, and now I was losing my wife. The most important thing to me in the world…"

I looked up, puzzled as to why he'd stopped. Then I noticed that the waitress had come by with the check. I had barely touched my food, yet I found that I wanted to leave the diner.

I didn't want to stay here another minute.

"Can we go somewhere else?" I asked, anxiously.

He seemed confused. "Um, sure…let me just pay for this…we'll go to the park or something."

"No." I found the word slipping out of my mouth before I could stop it. "No, I don't want to go to the park. I don't want people around, Edward. I feel like this is too—private."

He nodded in understanding, but I could see the wheels turning in his head.

"Well, if you didn't mind…we could always go to my place."

I was about to reject with a resolute "hell no" when I realized there was nowhere else private to go. It was his house or Charlie's and I honestly didn't want to chance having my father and Edward in the same room together.

That would have been catastrophic.

So that's how I found myself sitting on Edward's couch—our old couch—a cup of hot tea in my hands and Jake chewing happily on a bone at my feet.

The house looked exactly the same as I'd left it. And that terrified me.

There were pictures of us still sitting on the mantle…wedding gifts of quotes and pictures still hanging on the wall. One caught my eye.

"Live, Laugh, Love." I found myself saying aloud into the room. His aunt had gotten us that for our first anniversary.

Edward was watching me carefully, gauging my reactions. I saw him smile out of the corner of my eye.

"I liked that one the most, you know."

"Why?" I found myself asking. It wasn't the most philosophical quote I'd ever read. Just simple. Short. Nice I guess, but nowhere near my favorite.

"Because," He scooted a little closer to me so he could set his cup on the coffee table in front of us—the one I'd picked out at Shultz myself—and grinned. "It reminded me of you. After you left—" He coughed to hide his voice breaking, "I would sit here, on this couch for hours staring at that quote. At our pictures. And that quote was so…you. Before everything, of course. You were always so alive. It's one of the reasons I…"

I knew he was about to say 'one of the reasons I love you' but he caught himself. I wasn't used to see him struggling for words this much. "Anyway… and you always laughed. And your laugh, my God, it could bring me to my knees. There was something to melodic about it… so beautiful and just graceful."

I ducked my head to hide the tears that were beginning to brim in my eyes.

I didn't want to hear this.

I didn't want to hear how much he loved me.

"Graceful?" I laughed, dispelling some of the tension.

He smiled, and without even realizing it he brushed the hair from my cheek. "Yes, graceful. You were always graceful to me. Even in your clumsiest moments. You just have this air about you when you walk…"

I found myself hypnotized by his gaze.

"And you don't even see it… how magnificent you really are. How many men I'd have to chase away from you… you just draw people in. You drew me in."

"You're mistaken." I murmured, still lost in his green gaze. "You drew me in."

He shook his head, and I was surprised when I found we were close enough that our arms were touching. When had he moved? Or was I the one that had moved?

He reached up, taking my face between his long, lovely fingers.

"How can you even think that?" He whispered. "How can you even think for one second that you were more enraptured by me than I was by you?"

He chuckled incredulously.

"You bewitched me, body and soul. Christ, I've been in love with you since Kindergarten… there's no way you could ever think that about yourself. You're so amazing, and so clueless…"

My eyes widened in wonder at his words. There was no one else in the world at this second. I couldn't find my brain. As hard and as long as I tried, it was nowhere to be found.

I was lost.

Lost in his eyes, lost in the way his body felt so, so warm against my own.

"Isabella," he whispered reverently, his lips so close to my own I could practically taste him. And oh, how good he tasted. I knew. I'd had plenty of experience in tasting him. "My lovely Bella…"

I wasn't dumb enough to think that he had been the one to connect our lips.

But suddenly, I didn't care.

Because I was on fire.

His lips were exactly as I'd remembered. Firm, like when he was angry or frustrated. Soft as silk in moments like these. Moments when he kissed, moments when he loved.

My fingers reached up and brushed his hair away from his face, moving to the back of his head and running roughly through the strands, pulling him closer to me. As if that were even possible.

He tasted of liquid honey and mint, and a taste that was just so uniquely his. I'd almost forgotten how good he tasted—something I'd regretted immensely. I don't think I ever really disregarded it from my mind, though. It was like riding a bike. You'd never really forget it.

His skin tasted the same, I knew, as did a few other things.

His arms wrapped around me firmly, holding me so closely and so tightly to his body I was surprised I didn't suffocate from lack of air.

Speaking of which…

I dragged my lips away from his briefly, intending to bring my mouth back to his own after some much-needed carbon dioxide.

But that air filling my lungs was like a slap in the face, like a bucket of cold water being dumped on my head.

I kissed Edward.

Oh shit. Oh fuck, oh shit, oh fuck fuck fuck!

His lips were at my neck now, trailing wet kisses down to the base of my throat, completely unaware of my revelation.

I pushed him away so quickly that he barely had time to show surprise.

I was up off the couch in the next second, and storming into the foyer to grab my coat. I had it halfway on before Edward had gotten control of himself and ran into the room behind me.

"Bella, baby, what's wrong?"

I growled low in my throat with hatred. "What's wrong? WHAT'S WRONG? Fuck, let me think, EVERYTHING."

He looked at me, puzzled, reaching out to grab hold of my arm. "Darling, don't do this. Please. Stay here, Bella. Stay with me."

"Edward!" I exclaimed, pushing him away and jabbing my finger in his face. "I hate you! Don't you understand that!"

"I do." He nodded, reaching for me again. "I do understand. And I hate that you hate me. But I love you, Bella. Try to understand…"

I resisted the urge to cover my ears and begin screaming like a five-year-old.

"Fuck you!" I spat. "I should never have come here. This was such a mistake! I'm moving on, Edward. I'm moving right along and you're going to have to get used to that. I have a chance," I had to stop because my voice broke, "I have a chance at happiness—finally—and you're not going to take that away from me. I hate you. I'll never love you again!"

"No, Bella." Edward shook his head, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. "Don't say that. I know you felt that in there. I know you did… just please, give me a chance. Give us a chance again. Baby, I love you."

"Will you stop saying that?" I growled, stalking for the front door.

"No, I'll never stop saying that. I'm always going to be here, Bella. Waiting. You have your chance at happiness, and I'm not going to take that away from you. If Mike Newton makes you happy then be with him. But I want you to know that you were it for me. No one—no one—will ever replace you in my heart."

"Let me go, Edward." I sobbed openly now, wrenching open the door. "Just fucking let me go."

I didn't look back at him as I walked briskly down the walkway we'd made ourselves. I just barely heard him say as I got back into my car,

"No, I'll never let you go again."

A/N: Phew, is anyone else exhausted?

Anyhoo, the last chapter, reviews were a little slim. I really hate doing this, but if I think people aren't reading the story, I just can't spit words out into chapters. So if I don't get a certain amount of reviews each chapter, I'll wait until I do to post the next one.

To those of you who review religously, thank you. You keep my writer's block at bay.

Thank you for reading.

Until next time...