Chapter Ten: The Sunshine
Winter gradually melts away to spring and the grays and browns fade to rich green. The snow stops and the rain begins, a constant dew on the grass. The biting cold secedes to windy chill and the occasional sunshine warmth. Time changes everything and finally I'm changing with it.
I write my thoughts and feelings into words for months and the pages of my once blank notebook are covered with black. It's freeing to see them there, more than I thought it would be. Eventually I shift to poems and short stories amidst the therapy and I think I may have found something I'm good at, something worth striving for.
With Carlisle's tea and the cleansing of my thoughts to paper, the dreams have all but disappeared and I look forward to sleep again. When I wake my mind is empty and free to start a new day without digging up the skeletons of my past. It's like breathing fresh air in a room of smoke. It's been a victorious few months of dreamless sleep, victorious until last night.
It's much the same, the icy water, the floating particles, and the stabbing cold. He's there, right by my side like always, moving the water around us as he grasps at his seatbelt. Its broken and binding. This time I'm free, not longer trapped and capable of reaching him, capable of saving him. It's the first time it's ever been this way and the burden is heavy. My chest screams for me to reach for him as it screams equally as loud for oxygen. It's my body that moves, floating through the shattered windshield and up to the surface, leaving him there to drown and perish alone. It's agony, wanting something so horribly but being unable to control my own limbs.
I reach the surface and I'm gasping for air and when I finally wake I'm panting and coughing and clutching the shirt over my chest, the shirt I've practically ripped open. I'm finding my bearings, realizing the difference in reality and imagination, when he pads in on heavy heels.
"Bella? Are you okay?" His voice is worry and fear and I feel like the vile scum of the earth.
No! I want to scream. I left you! I left you to die alone.
Then the mattress dips and his hands are on me soft and clutching. Perfect.
"It was just a dream." His soft words are reassuring, comforting, and I'm working up the courage to smash it all to bits.
After months of not having to push him away and abandoning him to drown minutes ago it's harder than it seems.
Without the terrors in my sleep and the nights so close, our relationship has bloomed in the light of day. We have real conversations, ones that aren't about my sleeping habits or the past. We cook dinners together, play scrabble, and see movies when we're both free. It's easy and void of the skin-to-skin contact and close quarters these nights provide. It's what things were like before the crash, aside from my mother's presence, which has been noticeably absent.
His hands squeeze my shoulders and I realize how eerily silent I've been aside from the shaky breathes. I lick my lips and sit up, leaning heavy against the headboard and away from Edward.
"Bella?"
"I'm fine." My voice is trembling and not nearly as strong as I'd hoped it would be.
"Hey…" The moon is out and I see his hand as it reaches out, finding my cheek with familiar ease. The pads of his fingers are rough and tickle my skin. "It's okay." I shudder under his touch and take another deep breath to steady myself.
"I said I'm fine. " Another breath and I'm pushing his hand away with all the strength I can muster. "I want to be alone."
"Bella?" His whisper is louder now, the question stronger.
"Please." He sits back and the moon reflects in his eyes. Eyes that stare at nothing but me. His hands are in his hair then, pulling and mussing the locks that could use a cut. He doesn't want to leave and I don't want him to. Another minute and I fear I'll ask him to stay instead.
"Okay." He stands and rests his hands on his hips, white tee sleeves hugging the muscles of his arms flawlessly. How is it acceptable for a stepfather to look so good? "I'll be right down the hall if you need me." His voice is low velvet, smooth and too inviting.
He turns to leave but halts when he reaches the door, spinning back to face me. I expect more protest, more concern, but there's only silence. It's heavy and lasts too long and then he's gone, a shadow fading into the black.
It's the morning after now and the black of the night is gone and covering the edges of the pancake in front of me. The guilt induced breakfast that I'm burning in the midst of remembering.
"Shit!" I scoop the charred flapjack from the pan and sigh in defeat. I haven't burned a meal in years.
"Good Morning to you too." His groggy voice resounds in the silence and I'm spinning on my heels.
"Hi." It's unnaturally high-pitched and I clear my throat to stave the nerves.
"Pancakes?" He trots closer, eyes hooded with sleep and I notice that he's still wearing that damn tee shirt.
"Chocolate chip." He makes a noise in his throat that's a mix of groan and moan and I turn my attention back to the stove to hide the inevitable blush.
I don't turn back to see, but I can feel him at my side; can hear his voice as he offers playful commentary. "Maybe I can have mine a little less well done?" He pokes at the blackened oval with a gruff chuckle.
"The first pancake is always bad." I defend myself and pour another circle of batter into the pan.
"No offense but this looks worse than bad." I know I should laugh and join in the playful banter but my mind is moving too fast in too many directions and when I finally turn back to him his smiles falling and I know I've hesitated too long.
"Hey…" He leans against the granite, brows furrowed, and turns me toward him with a hand on my arm. "Everything okay?"
I almost say I'm fine but we both no it's untrue so I settle for the harsh reality instead. I trust him.
"I know it was a fluke…."A sigh and a shake of my head to build the courage. "I just don't want to go back there, back to how things were."
I see recognition on his face and his thumb rubs slowly against my arm. I don't know if he even realizes he's doing it but it's all I feel. "You won't."
He sounds so sure and it's easy to believe him. "How do you know?"
A smile pulls at his lips, slow and soft. "Because I know you."
In the winter I would have laughed and denied his appraisal of me, but not now. Now I feel as strong as he sees me. I won't fall back into that trap because he won't let me and even more important, I won't allow myself. I almost feel silly for thinking I could.
I smile back and our eyes meet. It's his hand still moving languidly over the skin on my arm and his eyes peering into my heart, warm and springtime green. It's electric, the connection we share, and it only takes a few seconds to feel the pressing weight of my feelings. The urge to pull him closer is too strong and I turn away from his touch and back to the pancake in the pan before I can make a mistake I've so painstakingly avoided for months.
He hovers close by while I flip the flapjack and find it slightly darker than I'd like but not nearly burnt. I feel his eyes on my face, on my skin, studying me. I wonder sometimes if I'm as much as mystery to him as he is to me. Impossible. When the pancake is done, and cooked to my liking, he drifts away to put on a pot of coffee. We work in comfortable silence until breakfast is served.
We're sitting at the table and I'm taking my first bite of chocolate chip goodness when he speaks again.
"Are you working today?" True to my word, I found a job after my week of punishment in January. Despite my distaste for Mike, I started work at Newton Outfitters and found a comfortable rhythm easily. Surprisingly, I look forward to the time after school spent stocking shelves and serving the familiar smiling faces of Forks. It's often tedious and can sometimes be frustrating when my shifts coincide with the youngest Newton's but it's worth it.
"No. " I swallow my bite and wipe my mouth with a napkin. "Not today."
"Any plans?" His words are casual before he takes another bite but I feel he has other motives for asking.
"Just researching colleges and doing homework. Nothing pressing."
"Want to go fishing?" I almost choke on my orange juice.
"Fishing?" My lips quirk upward as I place my glass back on the table.
"It's not that far fetched. I fished with Carlisle all the time growing up." He's smiling and his tone is teasing. "It's been years but I'm sure I've still got it."
I imagine a young Edward fishing with his father and my smile grows. I'm blushing I'm sure. "You really want to go fishing?" It feels like a dream.
"I mean if you don't want to…" His smiles shrinking his carefree tone fading.
"No! Of course I want to." I interject and he looks relieved. "I just…I've haven't exactly fished before."
His eyebrows rise and he looks a little taken aback. "Never?"
After he asks I see the understanding sweep quickly across his eyes. He knows my life story and the players in it. I don't say anything about my sob tale, my fatherless upbringing, he knows it all.
"Renee isn't exactly 'outdoorsy'. " I use air quotes and keep my tone light. I've had enough emotion-riddled words for one day.
He chuckles and my heart swells at the sight of his sparkling eyes and dimpled grin.
"She certainly is not."
"Is she…" I trail off because we both know the answer.
"Working." He finishes the sentence for me, confirming what I already knew.
With spring comes wedding season, trunk shows out of town, and longer hours at the boutique. This year seems busier than usual for Renee and by now we're used to her being away. At least I am. I'm unsure about Edward and haven't worked up the nerve to ask, but he seems content. He seems better than he was in the winter when fights and tension were the norm.
After breakfast we clean and get changed before heading into town for supplies. Edward has poles and line but we stop by Newton's for bait and hooks. I cringe when he grabs the sharp sliver fishhooks from the shelf but he assures me it will be catch and release only. Once we have everything we need we take the winding roads to a lake on the outskirts of town. We're in my truck but Edward's driving and I'm content to listen to the music and watch the tress rush by.
When we arrive at the lake, the sun arrives with us. It's a smaller body of water but Edward says it's well stocked. I take two steps out of the truck and towards the tailgate and I can't help but close my eyes and turn my head to the sky, soaking in the sunshine warmth and the smell of the wildflowers lining the banks. I'm happy and lately I've made a point to stop and appreciate it. After months of unrest it feels indescribably good to revel in real joy.
The wind picks up, blowing my hair across my nose and cheeks and tickling the sensitive skin. When I open my eyes and brush it away, I find him staring towards me from the tailgate. His expression is impassive, eyes darkened green and heavy with a sentiment I can't read. Then his Adam's apple bobs and he's looking to the truck bed and pulling things out that we'll need. I swallow heavy as well and pull a deep breath through my nose.
It's a confusing thing, my relationship with Edward. It's beautiful and pure at times but mysterious and dark in it's own way, full of misunderstanding and unread emotions. I know he loves me, know he's proud of me, know he knows me, but it's the in between that I fear. It's the way his eyes always look at me, carrying so much but never speaking clearly. It's my own hidden feelings that I worry can't stay buried forever, that I fear he already knows. And if he does what does that mean? What would it mean if he understands my twisted love for him but hasn't run away, hasn't pushed me away? I've chided myself endlessly for wondering but could he feel the same…or somewhere close?
"You ready?" His words snap me from my thoughts and I doubt he understands the weight of his question. He's holding the gear and I know what he means but in my mind, in my heart, I can't help but stray back to my questions a moment before. Am I ready? Can I ever be ready?
I hesitate a second or so longer before I step forward.
"Ready as I'll ever be."
Author's Note: Almost 100 reviews! That is amazing! Thank you all for reading and for leaving me with your questions, comments, and feedback. Sometimes I write and I get so caught up in how I'm visualizing things. It's great to get to read your thoughts and views on what I write and how it expands on inspires. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'll continue to update once a week and more if I can.(My sweet dog likes to lay on my keyboard so it can be a challenge.) Also a small gift for almost 100 reviews: The titles are song names. Feel free to search and listen if you want a better idea of what helped to inspire the moods and words of the chapters you've read. Thanks again!