{I do not own any of these characters; they all belong to Stephenie Meyer}
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*scroll to end for important author's notes*
There are moments in life that you could never be prepared for, no matter how convinced you find yourself, how hard you've worked for them, how encouraged you've become. There are moments that knock you so hard it's almost impossible to get back up from them. This was one of those moments, because the person behind the door was not Emmet or Rosalie, it was a short little figure with long wavy brown hair that had been the sole rule of my very existence for close to three years now.
"Bella…"
Sunday, December 20, 2009
At first, I thought I had accidentally knocked on the wrong apartment. The thin tall figure that appeared before me was no one I knew, but looking up and meeting his bright green eyes there was no mistake about it.
I would be lying if I hadn't thought about the moment I'd laid eyes on him again. In most fantasies, there was either a right hook or a kick to the groin. Though through the angry visions, a few others slipped through the cracks, and in them he swept me into his arms and kissed me like none of this had ever happened. In them I would let him kiss me freely. In them I would smile and giggle when he buried his face into my neck to drown in the scent that he once claimed he adored so much. In some of them, I had forgiven him, surpass all the anger and the resentment, and accepted him as a friend. The fantasies were always so far from the reality, it's almost shameful I spent so long developing them.
This was not even the shadow of the Edward Cullen I once knew. In his eyes, there was a sort of foggy shadow of this unusual emptiness I had never seen before, but one I recognized all too well nonetheless. I wanted to be angry, but instead all I felt was void and sort of numb.
"Bella, what are you doing here?" Alice's frantic voice broke the trance Edward's broken eyes had put me under and though I wanted to answer her, I couldn't even remember why I had come in the first place. The silence lingered on, and when I noticed more movement, I looked behind Alice to find a thin, shaggy looking guy with bright, playful eyes holding a smile like those who hold tender secrets, and surprisingly enough, I found myself smiling back at him. I knew all about secrets, I had plenty of those myself.
"Hey," Edward's voice greeted me, the once familiar sound was now distant and gutless, cracked and over used, and I could feel my face distorting into confusion when I looked back up at him.
Suddenly I remembered why I had come to visit and quickly turned back to Alice, fidgeting with my fingers, now uncomfortable and slightly unwelcomed, with three sets of eyes that rested upon me. "I came to pick up the dress." My own voice sounded strange in my ears. It was faded and unsure, a lot like Edward's.
"Oh, it's still in the closet. I thought you were coming to get it tomorrow so I haven't had a chance to iron it." Alice spoke as though there wasn't an elephant in the room, and it comforted me some. Pretending nothing was going on had become my forte; I could make it work.
"Alice, you are going through too much trouble as it is!" I spoke as I followed her to the master bedroom, walking past Edward and continuing forward past the blond guy standing in the living room. My steps were quick, and once I reached the room, I slammed the door a little bit harder than I had intended.
"Bella, I'm so sorry," Alice whispered to me as I sat on the edge of her bed. The room was spinning; I had too much to think about; I needed to be out as quickly as possible. So, I lifted my head, took in a sharp breath and put my brave face on.
"Don't worry about it. Were you able to fix the hem? Was it too much trouble?" By the end of my last question, I was standing in front of the bright blue dress and running my fingers over it. It was probably the flashiest thing I owned, considering it was my old prom dress, and after Alice had stumbled upon it on my closet, she had decided it would be recycled and made into the perfect New Year's dress. I had come to get it today because I was leaving to visit my father for Christmas, and Alice had wanted me to try it on one last time before I left, though she was absolutely sure it would be perfect.
The silence that followed alerted me that Alice was not going to let this just go, and that after all that had happened, she needed the reassurance. I turned to her and smiled a smile that probably tilted more into a grimace, and after a very careful inspection from Alice, it managed to pass the test.
True to her word, the dress was perfect, now short, strapless, and though fitted at the top, long enough to be comforting, but still made me feel sexy. Despite the sudden surprise of the day, I found myself slightly cheery after trying it on.
Before reopening the door though, I was again shaky and troubled, and I held on to the doorknob so tightly I thought it would break off in my hand. Outside that door was Edward and even with fully understanding and accepting that there was a possibility he would be back in my life, I still couldn't just face him head on. Even with all the time that had passed, there was still that aching feeling in my gut when I saw him, and the anger and resentment I nurtured had turned that ache into a nauseating, dizzying feeling that overwhelmed me.
I swung the door open, determined and proud, and walked down the hallway. Edward and golden boy sat at the table, beers in hand, speaking casually. Despite the fact I wanted to run for my life, I paused by the door. "Bye"
"Bella!" The slight accent given to my name stopped me in my tracks, and I turned to find golden boy with another mischievous smile on his face. "I'm Mike. I was Edward's flatmate over in Oxford. I've heard a lot about you. It's a pleasure to finally meet you!"
It was odd, how a smart arrangement of simple words could have such profound meanings. In Mike's few words, I had more information than I could handle. "I was Edward's flatmate in Oxford," meaning: I was with him all that time he was away from you. "I've heard a lot about you," meaning: While Edward was away, he had you on his mind and on occasion spoke to me about you. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you," meaning: It's great to finally put a face to the name. Accidentally, I glanced over at Edward, surprised to find him staring daggers at Mike, and then back to Alice, not at all surprised to find a wide giggling smile.
I had no choice, either beat them or join them. I walked toward his extended hand and offered mine. "It's nice to meet you too, Mike," meaning: There is nothing you can say that is going to make me change my mind. I turned again for the door, reaching it as fast as I could.
"I hope to see you again soon," Mike's words echoed before the door closed. They meant he doubted that very much.
Almost three hours had passed since leaving Alice and Jasper's apartment and out of those three hours, I had spent at least one sitting in front of my luggage staring down at all my folded clothes in a quiet almost dizzying daze. It's funny how almost ten months had passed since I had seen Edward, but most of the clothes packed neatly away could be connected to him. The vintage shirt he always called me a hippie for wearing. The jeans I ripped on the knee when we wrestled for the last chicken wing. The summer dress he always called my pajama because I often would fall asleep still wearing it.
I hated every item of clothing, every color of every garment, the smell of every perfume I owned that I never used, every room in the apartment, every single tile, every DVD case, my tv, and my radio, because they all reminded me of Edward. They all had been in his presence, and they all probably missed him the way I refused to acknowledge I did.
I cried then. I cried because I could. I cried because inside these four walls I could be frustrated, I could be scared, I could be worried, I could be livid. I cried because of all the other times I had cried about the same damn thing. I cried because it wasn't fair that I couldn't let go. I cried because there was hurt in his eyes and this sick sadistic part of me was content with that. I cried because Jacob loved me and it wasn't fair that on days when Edward was on my mind I wasn't sure if I loved him just as much. I cried because I had to close my eyes every time I kissed my boyfriend, and it was not Jacob who I would see behind my eyelids. I cried for all the times I've cried about the same thing before and all the times I promised myself I'd never cry again. I cried because I wanted my heart and my body to understand what was right for me and what I truly desired. I even cried because I didn't have enough space in my luggage for all my things and that was also probably Edward's fault.
Sunday, December 25, 2009
Charlie had never really been good at the whole exchanging present thing. Christmas presents from Charlie consisted of a card and some cash, even before mom's death to cancer years ago. Sometimes I would get lucky and get something simple to decorate my room or something old that my mother or grandmother owned and he randomly found. I was more than surprised to be given a beautiful handmade purple leather journal with a butterfly carefully drawn on the cover, leather strip page finder included with small silver butterflies dangling from the end. It was gorgeous and unexpected.
"Dad, this is beautiful!" I yelled while opening the journal carefully.
"Yeah, I thought so too. I saw it in a little art fair I patrolled a week or two ago. I thought you'd like it. I know how you like to write and all…" Despite the surprise, my father stayed true to his character and remained awkward to the sudden bonding moment, and it only reminded me why I loved coming to stay with him and how I should do it more often. I knew my father loved me, not because he told me often or because he drowned me in extravagant presents, he just had a quiet and distant way of telling me. Like never missing birthday pancakes, like checking in on me in the middle of the night to make sure I was safely in bed, like giving me tiny memories of good times he had with mom or remembering me at art fairs with handmade leather journals in my favorite color.
"I love it, Dad. Thanks."
My present to my father didn't consist of a trip to the fishing store closest to campus to find him the funniest looking fishing lures so that he could give them all names, it was the dinner I cooked for us and spending the afternoon watching re-runs of games and CNN while I rested my head on his shoulder. My Christmas present to my father was giving him an excuse not to work on Christmas day.
"I'm worried about you," he spoke suddenly, waking me from day dreaming of the different contingency plans to avoid running into Edward again − one which involved making a quick stop at Red Lobster so I could claim being sick to my stomach and having to miss the New Year's party Alice had been planning since March.
"What do you mean?" I sat up straight to get a good read off his almost unreadable face. He never could fool me.
"You seem sad this Christmas, kiddo. You okay with school? You know I can help you out with money if that's what…"
"No, Dad. I have my scholarship, and I have that part-time job at the library in school. I'm doing real good. I've been worried about you though. Aren't you lonely? I should visit more often…" I didn't fool him either. I had become so accustomed to pretending everything was fine that I kept forgetting my best friend and my father knew me better than that. The disapproving face he gave me didn't let me continue the lie much further. "I'm good, really… I just have a lot on my mind. It has nothing to do with school I just…"
"You're having boy troubles…"
"Dad!"
"I just have a funny feeling…"
I don't know what kept me quiet. I don't know if it was the shock of my father even acknowledging that I might be in a relationship or the shame of being so easily read and wearing my heart on my sleeve. Still, I stared at Charlie like a deer stuck in the headlights, trying desperately to come up with a reason why his words were utterly ridiculous. I took too long, and my silence must have answered his question.
"Whatever it is Bells, you better find a boy who knows he's the luckiest son of a gun alive, and he better treat you like a princess or else…"
Despite the threat, I had to giggle. Wasn't that the answer to all my problems? It was about me − all about me. I needed someone that did not raise a single doubt about his affection toward me. Someone that I knew loved me. Someone I knew would take care of me. Someone I knew would never abandon me. That someone was Jacob, who has always proven himself to be that person to me.
"He knows I own guns right?" Charlie added.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
The knock on the door startled me and brought even more butterflies to my stomach. Jacob had come to pick me up, which meant it was time to face the music. It was time to face Edward again, face him with the new relationship I began while he was away. Suddenly I wondered if they'd remember each other, if that one encounter that happened between them before Edward left would spike their memory somehow. I wondered if Jacob would notice there was some history between us and would start asking questions I had no particular answers for. It would have been easier to miss the party all together, but that was something Alice wouldn't have let me get away with.
It was out of habit I checked myself in the mirror one last time before going to answer the door. I still couldn't figure out how I had managed to pull it all off. The waves in my hair, the shimmery blue eye shadow, the mascara, and most importantly the heels. Perhaps I was purposely trying to look like someone else, hoping I could pass unnoticed or be another person all together. Wasn't that what I was doing for Jacob already? Would Edward know me enough to know I have turned into a proficient liar? Does it even matter? I know now that if I could not get what I wanted, that I had to accept what I needed and learn to want what I really deserved. This isn't settling; this is self-preservation.
"Bella!" Jacob stared at me with playful eyes that did not fail to make me smile. I hadn't seen him since the day I left to visit my father, and I had arrived so late the night before. We decided to meet before the party. Despite being happy to see him, I knew what those eyes were for, and I could not let that happen.
"Down boy," I spoke against the provocative kiss he placed against my lips. It had been almost a week since I had last seen Jacob, which meant it has been almost two weeks since we'd last been together. Logically, it was on his mind.
"Oh come on, baby!" I giggled when he wrapped his arms around me and groaned as he nibbled on my neck. Still, he didn't complain when I wiggled myself out of his grasp.
"Listen, it took me a long time to pull this look off. You are not going to mess it up for me!" I pointed at his chest, trying desperately not to laugh at the stupid rejected look on his face.
"Come on, Bella! It's been a while since we've been had some time together." Jacob exclaimed, pouting in his ridiculous, charming way. "You know how long it's been since I last saw you, and here you are looking so hot and I can't touch you! You're a cruel, sadistic woman!" He rambled on behind me as I headed toward my room to get my purse. "You even have heels on! Listen, if you have sexy lingerie under that dress, there is no way we're leaving this apartment until you give me some birthday loving!"
I laughed while organizing the things I had placed on my dresser. "Actually, I'm not wearing any." I was lying, and he knew I was. The sudden silence made me turn around.
"I hate you," he announced, sitting back down at the edge of the bed. "My balls are as blue as your dress. Thank you very much!" He finished his fit by falling back onto my bed, his long dark hair spreading out on my comforter. I could tell it was going to be a long and tedious night.
"Hey! It's about time! I was wondering when you guys were going to show up. Did you bring the ice?" Alice was, of course, on door duty. She always made sure all her guests were properly greeted. There was a large crowd, larger than what I was expecting, which calmed me a bit. Perhaps if there were enough people, I could fall through the cracks, stay unnoticed throughout the night.
"Babe?" Jacob called. Apparently, I was hesitating, and he had been pulling at my hand softly to lead me inside. Once I took that step through the threshold, there was no going back.
The music did nothing to silence my erratic heartbeat. The sort of musty smell of all the guests did nothing to numb my growing hysteria, and the beer I was nursing could not drown my nerves. It wasn't until Jacob went to get Seth that I had some time to search the crowd. As always, Rosalie was playing bartender, and Emmett was the almighty leader of beer pong. Jasper, probably by Alice's order, was organizing food and drinks in the kitchen, dividing all the ice we had brought in. To Emmett's side stood the blond English guy who had challenged me before, Mike, but there was no sign of Edward. The thought he might not even come calmed me. The fact Alice would let him get away with it, infuriated me, but she could have done it for my own good.
"Bella!" Jacob's loud voice startled me. "Which one is the guest room?" I sighed and walked toward the hallway, Jacob behind me. Of course, pervert that he is, he took the opportunity and grabbed me, pressing me against him while we walked, the trails of kisses going up my shoulders and into my neck tickled. Before I could turn the doorknob, he had reached my cheeks and was slowly turning my face toward him for a kiss. I refused to be detained though and walked though the opened door in a hurry, breaking the kiss with a laugh. Jacob was having none if it and lunged at me, trapping me in his strong arms and kissing me − a noisy, childish kiss that made laugh. I pushed some, but his big arms engulfed me. He shook his head because his mouth was too engaged to tell me that I wasn't going anywhere. I laughed some more. Jacob could be such a kid sometimes, so loose and easy to get along with. It was no wonder why I felt connected to him regardless of the other feelings wrestling within me.
It was a while before I looked over toward the bed in the room. Sitting with ankles crossed and laptop on his lap was Edward. His eyes had been focused on Jacob, but he must have felt me looking because then his eyes shifted to mine. I felt a burning that started in the back of my neck and latched itself onto my spinal cord. It ran down to my feet, and crawled back up from my toes, and found its way on to my stomach, where it grew until I felt achy and sick. The burning expanded so fast, I felt dizzy and slightly disoriented. I felt like apologizing, then I felt angry at the thought of wanting to apologize, then I felt stupid, and finally I settled with feeling defeated and uncomfortable.
Jacob spoke after having noticed I had stopped struggling and then he took note that there was another person in the room. "Oh, hey there. Jasper asked me to get another box of beer from this room. Do you know about it?" He hadn't released me from his grip, but he wasn't holding too tightly, which meant Jacob didn't recognize Edward. That was somewhat of a relief. I had shifted my eyes to the ground, but my curiosity got the best of me, and I looked up to find Edward looking back down at his laptop and pointing to the side of the bed where various boxes were lined up.
"Damn, Alice sure knows how to throw a party! There's enough beer here to stock Ben's bar and still have enough to throw a pong tournament!"
"Don't you dare give Emmett that idea!" A strong feminine voice invaded the room; it was Rosalie. "Hurry it up there will ya! The ice is just sitting there gathering dust!" I smiled at her prissy tone of voice. It wasn't that Rosalie didn't like Jacob, but they had taken a class together and had developed their own sarcastic and cynical language that was more than fun to watch.
"Listen, Princess, don't get your tutu in a knot. Let men do what men do best."
"Take their sweet ass time to get a box of beer?" she asked as Mike joined the banter by walking into the room and standing by the edge of the bed. His eyes burned, though I refused to acknowledge them.
Jacob, being the smart ass he was, lifted the box with a great groan. "No, that would be pulling their backs while trying to lift a huge box of beer."
"You're a pussy." Rosalie laughed walking toward the kitchen, Jacob right behind her, straining to hold the box.
"Nice to see you again, Bella." The accent in the words revealed who was speaking to her. She sighed in defeat. This wasn't just letting the cat out of the bag; this was the equivalent of opening a box and revealing a very loud, very painful, very deadly explosion.
I couldn't speak. My voice box had disappeared on me, so when I looked over to meet those bright blue eyes, all I had was a knot in my throat I was trying to swallow.
"You look lovely by the way; blue is definitely your color. Don't you agree, Edward?" It was pretty entertaining watching Edward stare daggers into Mike. It seemed we both thought he'd be better off wearing a muzzle. Edward's silence lingered.
"Thanks." I was almost proud of the fake calmness in my voice. It sounded real, even to me.
I decided then I could do this. I could pretend I wasn't affected by Edward in anyway: no one will know. We could be adults about this − broken, exhausted and fed up adults. Edward and I could be strangers again. Strangers without a future, without a present and most definitely without a past − without our past.
A/N: (PLEASE READ)
This chapter was really hard to write and I hope you believe me when I tell you I opened the file religiously to try and see if Bella will speak to me. I don't know why Edward is easier to write. From this point on in this story I'm going to wing it a little bit, I realize that if I try to outline the story too much it's even harder to write it, all I know if that for 2 or 3 chapters there will be angst galore and then probably enough angry, jealous, guilty smutt to last me a life time. (but we like that don't we? It will make up for lack of loving for this chapter and probably the next.)
On last very important thing: Remember I am a person, with feelings, flaws and problems and not enough time on my day to do all the things I'd like to do. I know it's been very long between updates and I would change that if I could, but I've said this so many times and I'll say this again: Sending me messages saying "you take way too long in updates it's ridiculous, I had forgotten about this story; now I have to sit here and re read it" or "would you update already? Jeez!" or "what's the point of having a story if you don't update" just makes me want to give up the whole thing and leave my stories to my private friends. I haven't given up; I am willing to see this story till the end, as a personal challenge for MYSELF, but try to be nice ok? I'm trying, I swear I'm really trying. I also have many crazy ideas I want work on, but you just gotta stick around.
On a better note. A couple of people who I wanna thank for a great review: jansails, Annis, Jade LeArgente, orlanka, banshee69.