Hope ya'll had a great Valentines!. It even got an honourable mention in this chapter, if you can spot it;) I hope you were pampered to the max because y'know as the superior sex we deserve it. And if you're a guy you deserve it too… ;)

Christmas With the Cullens

Chapter 9

December 22nd

I stand at the entrance to the living room the next morning, the heightened volume of the TV blaring in my ears and the baseball clenched in my right hand as I shift uneasily from foot to foot.

My un-dried hair cascades down my back, leaving my black strappy top damp and cold between my shoulder blades. The material ends just above my navel and highlights the dismal fact that the clothes I wore when I was sixteen no longer fit me. I'm not sure if I'm more distressed that this used to be my favourite top, or that I'll have to face one of my biggest pet peeves and go shopping for clothes. I mean if Adam and Eve hadn't gone and sinned we'd be all walking around naked, so what's the big deal? … I'd rather do more useful things with life. Like sleeping or eating chicken.

The smell of waffles and eggs waft from the kitchen, where I heard Carlisle and Rosalie discussing the minutiae of elder-flowers and pregnancy as I walked past earlier. I didn't stop because I was so eager to get everything out in the open, and well, I don't have much interest in elder-flower or pregnancy.

Though now that I'm here, I'm rooted to the floor like some invisible force has clamped my feet to the cream carpet, preventing me from moving forward.

Don't worry, I haven't chickened out or anything.

I'm being a little cautious that's all. And yes, even I can be cautious.

I'm ready now though.

I think.

Inhaling a long breath, I take one single step inside.

Esme is standing in front of the Christmas tree, looking stylish and radiant in her black designer dress. She murmurs directions to Alice as she hands her colourful Christmas lights and tinsel from the tray in her hand.

Alice stands bare-foot on a low stool as she reaches upward to decorate. The dark pink nail varnish on her toes matching her mini skirt and earrings perfectly and her hair is twisted in small curls…if she was slightly more miniature they could have easily put her atop the tree instead of the fairy and nobody would have known any better.

Closer to me, Emmett sits on the couch, highly absorbed in the re-run of some football game. His legs are propped on the table in front of him, and he eats from an extra large bag of Chucks Onion and Gravy Chips. You know the type that are fried in deep fat and make you feel sick after two, but you can't stop eating?

Yeah, they're really gross.

He sits up.

"Get back to the bench you fucking pussy!!!!"

"Emmett. Language." Esme says tolerantly.

"Sorry, Ma." He says not looking at her and filling his mouth with more chips.

Next to Emmett is Edward. To say he looks like death warmed up would be putting it nicely.

His skin is pale and he has purple dents under his eyes as he gazes absently at the TV like it's an unidentified object. He's still in the same clothes as yesterday like maybe he went to bed in them or didn't go to bed at all. He wears a grey, unzipped, UCLA sweatshirt on top of his shirt with the hood over his head like he wants to hide from the world.

A small but prominent blue-grey bruise adorns the skin underneath his bottom lip where Tanya hit him, and it makes my chest pain and hate her with even more ferociousness, if that's possible.

Suddenly, Alice jumps down from her stool and pulls down Edwards hood.

Giggling she places red tinsel that she's made into a halo shape on top of his head. "You look like a cute-heart, Eddie!"

Edward blinks away from the TV and manages a minute smile at his sister, then takes the tinsel off and flips his hood back up when she flounces away.

I watch the intimate family scene like an unwelcome intruder and am almost tempted to turn back around and switch to humming Christmas tunes in my bedroom. However somewhere inside, I know that might translate into being cowardly, so I walk inside and mumble a barely coherent, "Morning."

There is a murmur of response from everybody and a "shh" and wave-down from Emmett.

I stop at the couch beside Edward, and stand awkwardly, fiddling with the pockets of my jeans.

At first he looks straight ahead at the TV, but not being able to ignore the power of my stare any longer, his eyes flick toward me.

Electric current jolts up my spine but I force myself to speak.

"Um… I bought this." I offer him his base-ball like a peace offering.

Edwards fingers are warm against my hand as he takes it from me.

"Thanks." He sounds so weary and drained that I just want to hug him, or decorate him with more tinsel so he can at least pretend to look happy.

Instead, I put my hands in my pockets and follow his example by looking absently at the window behind the TV like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

So where to start?

I plan out a possible conversation starters in my head.

Hi Edward, remember yesterday? We have to re- ignite that painful and awkward conversation so we actually make some type of sense.

…You look like crap by the way.

….I'm sorry for letting this idiocy go on for so long. It's clearly a genetic fault.

…Nice bruise.

…Where did you go last night? I came to look for you, and I couldn't sleep thinking about how you probably might not come back…

….I think I love you.

I bite my lip and stare at the little droplets of rain that have started to gather and congregate on the window ledge.

Emmett glances sporadically between me and the TV, "Chips?" He holds the packet toward me, in front of Edward's face, blocking his view from the game he's not really watching.

"No thanks." I say, oddly polite (something clearly wrong there).

"What? They taste --- look where you're going you fucking ass-wipe, look!" he screams, distracted.

Esme sighs in defeat.

Oh fuck.

I smell the expensive perfume float through the living room, even before I see her.

"Good morning Emmett, Alice, Esme, Edward."

That's a lot of vowels all at once.

Tanya comes to a sudden halt five feet away from me all fucking perfect and natural in her short, black halter neck dress and purple frill boots.

Completely ignoring me she says "Edward, I think we should talk."

What?

Bitch made it look so easy.

Edward turns toward her, frustrated.

"What, right now?"

"Yes, now." She says adamantly.

He sighs and shakes his head.

The tension in the room is instantly palpable.

Alice visibly stiffens but doesn't turn away from tree, Esme looks up, perplexed, Emmett continues to be entranced by the TV and I feel like running over and punching her on her perfect little mouth to give her a bruise that matches Edward's. I don't though, because it would be really impolite to start a scene (clearly something wrong with me: see that polite thing pop up again?), and if anyone should match with Edward it should be me.

At first Edward looks like he's going to either protest or say something really bitchy, but then he rubs his thumb at the side of his eye and stands up.

I stiffen.

No.

Don't go.

"Is everything okay? ..." Esme takes a step forward, and then her expression changes, "Edward what happened to your face?"

Edward sighs dejectedly, "Nothing, Mom."

Goose pimples prick my skin, as he brushes my arm when he moves past. Then without looking my way, he stalks out.

Tanya follows, thundering past me all irate and agitated-looking in her frilly boots.

"Emmett? Alice?" Esme persists, "Bella… what's going on?"

I shrug and fall to the couch, "I don't get involved in such business," then I grab Emmett's chips violently from his fingers and eat every single one of those buggers with a ferociousness that I never knew was possible.

****

I meant to give them ten minutes. Fifteen at the most.

I get side-tracked by breakfast.

Then Grandma Cullen arrives all the way from her home in London and I spend most of the morning catching up about my life at USC and her new husband El- Francesco (yes, it's really a name) because well, she's one of the few people I like.

Late afternoon, Rosalie's Mom turns up with Rosalie's two year old sister Summer and fifteen year old sister Annabel, who is like a mini-Rosalie, except that she has curlier hair and smiles more. Whenever Annabel laughs, I think the world has stopped spinning on its axis, because I think I'm hearing Rosalie actually enjoying herself. Then I realise it's not her and everything feels normal again.

People talk, babies cry …there's hugs, rejoicing and lots of delicious food, yet amidst all the noise and laughter all I can think about is Edward.

How is it possible to be under the same roof someone, yet feel miles away?

I'm in living room eating-slash-fiddling with fruit sundae whilst Annabel informs me in extreme detail about how her growth spurt meant that she went from an A cup to a DD, making all the boys in class happy.

"So there was this guy called Kyle and he bought me a rose and this cute little box for valentines. I thought it might a ring or a necklace but it was actually a mini can of whipped cream …."

I drown her out, my eyes travelling to the door, something they've been doing all afternoon. Everything inside me elates and heightens, like I've been doing too much pot and red-bull, whenever I see someone walk toward the door, then collapses to an extreme low when it's not him.

This can't be good for me.

"So at first I was like no, but then he got really stalkerish and spent most of his time standing outside my bedroom, singing me love songs and copying my hair-style—"

I straighten when I see a shadow in the doorway.

I sigh inwardly.

Jasper walks in scratching his Metallica shirt and giggling to himself.

Fucker.

He's been lying about his lack of stash. I'm going kill his sorry--

Somebody snaps their fingers in front of my face and I look up at the most smartly dressed and youthful looking Grandmother ever to exist ( trust me I've seen enough be the expert opinion on this).

"Crikey Bella, if you look anymore glum I'm going to have to start calling you the Grinch."

I roll my eyes. "I didn't know bad Christmas jokes were hereditary."

"Pardon me?"

"Nothing."

"Here," she hands me two cream-colored, pure wool sweatshirts. "For you."

Much to the mystification of Emmett and Alice; Edward and I always get an extra gift from her each year. They're always some type of clothing, they're always both exactly the same, with one slightly larger, like a his and hers set.

"You been knitting again?" I ask appreciatively taking the sweatshirts from her. Maybe I don't need to go shopping for tops after all… suddenly I love this sassy, crazy, English lady even more.

"It's a natural talent of mine."

"You're fabulous." I lie.

We both knew she buys all her clothes from expensive designer boutiques because the tags on the back say so, but she likes to be humoured, so I play along.

"Now go give Edward his." She says grabbing my sundae out of my fingers.

"I don't know where he is---"

"Go find the young brat will you…," she says, shaking her bobbed grey hair in mock annoyance, "tell him that Grandmother is hugely pissed that he hasn't shown his pretty face all morning. Tell him to pluck his head out of his bottom and come say hello or I'll boycott the inheritance his Gramps left him… and tell him yes, Belinda Cullen still has the power to do that."

Annabel giggles.

"I'm scared."

"You should be, sweetheart. It'll affect you too. Now move it," she says, tapping my shoulder with two fingers, with nails that are glossed to the max.

I have no idea what she means by that, but I've come to accept that Belinda Cullen is the only person that can be even more random than me. Glad to get out of the downward spiral of staring longingly at the door, I leave the living room unquestioningly.

I'm in the process of aimlessly walking the long, expansive corridor when Rosalie struts out of the kitchen looking flushed, holding two plates of chocolate cake.

"Kitchen," she says even before I ask her where Edward is. Then nodding to the plates in her hands, "I need a hand feeding the masses," she says like she's going to throw food at starved orphans that Esme and Carlisle have kindly let congregate in the living room.

I nod to the sweatshirts in my hand, "I need to give this to Edward."

"Whatever," She storms past me without another look.

"Yeah. Whatever." I huff at her back.

I hate it when people end conversations with "whatever". Its so non-descript you know?

Picking up pace, I walk toward the aroma of baking cookies and oranges, push open the heavy door and stop instantly.

He's changed into a khakis and I wonder if it was a conscious effort on his part that his blue, unbuttoned, polo t-shirt manages to compliment his bruise perfectly. Hair damp from the shower, he's holding a baking tray with a flowery oven mitt over one hand, like some perfect house husband.

I'm not sure if I find it sexy or humorous that Rosalie's managed to rope him into The Great Cullen Bakathon, but I notice Tanya standing next to him glowering crossly with her hands on her hips, and it spoils my mood all over again.

She's fucking talented with this Debbie Downer and Gloomy Gloria shit she's got going on.

"Hey guys!" I stroll in plastering a huge fake grin across my face.

They barely notice me, continuing to argue in low heated voices.

Suddenly Edward slams the tray against the counter-top and angrily shrugs out of the oven glove, like it's the gloves fault that Tanya is dumb and insane.

"Edward, I need to talk to you," I say.

Edward glances at me, but then Tanya grabs his elbow and says something in his ear shifting his attention away from me.

His expression turns sourer as she continues her whispered mantra or sing-along or whatever.

Why is she standing so close to him?

I don't like it one bit.

"Dammit, EDWARD!" I cry.

"Ridiculous," Tanya snaps so that I can hear, "She even calls your name like your forefathers came off the slave boats and were sold to hers in shillings."

….What the fuck?

Ignoring her, I take a step toward them.

"Grandma wants me to give you your sweatshirt and mentioned something about giving me all your inheritance if you don't go see her right now."

Tanya takes a step toward me in counter attack.

"You really don't take a hint do you? Move it. We're talking. Privately. In fact I think you should go and throw yourself from --,"

"Tanya, don't," Edward warns cutting her off and taking a step forward too. It's like the three person river-dance.

Tanya whips her head toward him and takes a step back again.

I think she just spoiled our rhythm.

"Don't? Why Edward? I'm not completely oblivious to what's going on here! You might not come clean about whatever went on in the study, but whatever it is; I know that she has to have started it."

I sigh; she needs to get a fucking hobby. "Nothing happen--,"

"She's the problem, can't you see it?! Have you seen that pathetic way she looks at you? It's so fucking needy. Throw the girl a bone before she overdoses from delusion."

Edwards jaw clenches but he doesn't say anything.

I hold the sweatshirts tightly to my chest.

"So?" Tanya continues, loudly now, not seeming to care that I'm here too, "you have a decision to make, Edward."

Edwards eyes flick toward me and our gazes hold.

My heartbeat speeds up in an unsteady rhythm.

He doesn't have to say it.

I know.

I know what she's asking of him.

I wonder if it would have made a difference if I hadn't delayed it all day and just told him already.

I hate words right now.

Why can't he just understand?

After all, the voice in my head constantly screams it in tempo with the tremulous pulse of my heart.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

…But I'm not sure if it even matters anymore.

Edward licks his lip and looks away.

The door swings open and Alice bounces in cheerily.

"Edward, Mom wants to know what's taking you so long to check on the ginger bread…" she stops in her tracks, instantly picking up on the tension. "Is everything okay?

"Well?" Tanya ignores her, raising her eyebrows at Edward commandingly.

Edward lets out an annoyed grunt, "You seriously want me to choose between you or Bella?"

"Yes." Tanya admits confidently, "I'm even willing to forget whatever happened yesterday… perhaps even all your past mistakes. However you have to make a choice now. Make the right choice Edward, otherwise my bags are packed and ready to go."

I blink. She's really got the whole authoritarian principle thing going on. Maybe a possible career path?

Edward runs his hand through his hair and snorts. "This is ridiculous. It's Christmas for Chrissake, I don't expect you to leave now. Where would you go?"

I roll my eyes exasperated. As much as I love Edwards do-gooder attitude, this is taking it a bit far. I could personally name a few interesting places she could rocket up to this Christmas.

"I have no choice! I can't ignore this anymore! I come here because you invited me to meet your family and--,"

"You invited yourself!" Edward yells, aggravated.

"I thought it would be nice to meet them!"

Edward rubs at the stubble on his chin tiredly.

Emmett walks in.

"Her. Or. Me." Tanya says threateningly.

I try to ignore the strange way my stomach clenches in panic by staring the way her cheek ticks every three seconds. It's actually quite funny when you think about it--

"Oh jeez. Again? ...Does this need popcorn?" Emmett says grabbing a carton of juice from the counter-top.

Edward glares at Emmett in a way that would make vile expletives look tame. Emmett shrugs and drinks straight from the juice carton from his spectator spot.

Tanya stamps her frilly boot on the dark wood of the kitchen floor, gathering all eyes back to her like the attention whore that she is.

"Why do you even have to decide? I'm your girlfriend, Edward!" She grabs his face and it makes me cringe and want to break her fingers, "Baby, we're for real. Not stuff that goes on behind closed doors and forgotten." When Edward doesn't answer she gets irritated, "Fuck, I don't get your fascination with her. She's so fucking lame. Why is she even here?"

Alice tugs at my arm, pulling me toward the exit, "Bells, lets get out of here," her voice trembles with emotion and I wonder if she's going to cry.

I tumble backward, but pull my wrist out of her grasp, sickly entranced at the scene before me.

I'm not going anywhere.

Is it masochistic that I'm this spellbound by something that is so painful to watch?

I can't help it.

Tanya isn't the only one that needs to know.

It's true. She is a materialistic, self centred, bitch, yet it's just dawned on me that she's also the force that's going to catapult us into change.

Who would have thought that out of all people in the world, it would be her?

She's asked a question this Christmas, that will no doubt alter everything. A question with consequences. Consequences that should have probably been confronted by Edward and I long time ago.

No matter what his answer is, Christmas with the Cullens was definitely going to change for me after today. Habits, routines… this never ending spiral with Edward… was going to break.

It's the most terrifying thing in my world, but I have to know too. I have to know that those secret promises and unveiled confessions in the study yesterday weren't for nothing.

I need to know.

Tanya's gone into rant mode. Everything about her is stiff and she's all high-pitched and screechy. If I wasn't so wrought up I would have probably shared popcorn with Emmett and laughed until I was blue in the face.

"It's time to cut her loose, Edward. You're better than her. All she does is walk around making stupid comments, throwing you puppy dog looks with her nipples on full display…she doesn't ever wear a bra for Chrissake!"

"Stop it." Edward says again. More harshly.

"No, I won't!" she cried adamantly, "Don't you dare choose her Edward! I can find you trash on the street who is better at wrapping her tongue around your dick-- She's a fucking leech who's been stuck to your family for God knows how long, it's time you--,"

"Hey, hey, lady, now that's outta line!" Emmett says angrily slamming the carton on the counter.

I hear a gasp as the kitchen door swings closed and Esme puts her arms around my shoulders protectively, like it might undo what she just said.

It's strange.

It's strange that when you hear something you've been dreading your whole life, sometimes you feel nothing at all.

Tanya's up on her bogus podium now, preaching to all of us like some crazy… preacher.

"Why are you shocked? You all should hear it. Even her father moved across the country. She's inconvenient. Nobody wants her!"

I stare hard at that tick in her cheek.

You really need to see it for yourself to understand it's full emphasis.

She's looking at me directly, "Do you get it, Bella? Nobody. Especially not Edward--"

"Get out." Edward says.

Tanya stops.

His voice is low, but I've never seen him look this furious.

Tanya looks surprised.

"What?"

"Go on. Leave. Now."

"Really?" she asks disbelievingly.

"Really."

There's a second of stillness, as everybody absorbs what just happened. Esme squeezes my arm tighter.

"Fine," Tanya tosses her head, "But you're driving me to Seattle. There's no way I'm taking the bus"

Edward groans and then says through clenched teeth, "Let's do that. I have some matters to discuss with you."

Without looking at any of us Tanya walks out of the exit opposite, into the dining room.

Edward grabs his keys from the top of the refrigerator, his profile toward me.

Glancing up at me, he mouths "sorry" like he's apologetic for a lot more than what Tanya just said.

He looks so upset and saddened that it breaks my heart.

Then he turns to the backdoor that Tanya's just disappeared through.

I shake my head.

No.

I struggle out Esme's grasp wondering why everyone is so intent on holding onto me like I'm about to break, and take one step forward, sudden courage embracing me from a place I didn't know even existed.

This is not how I expected to say it.

Not when I'm so vulnerable.

Especially not with this much company.

But I have to say this now because just like every year before, he's leaving.

And every Christmas when he leaves, a small part of me bruises and I don't think I can take it anymore, because I'm afraid that I might stop healing altogether.

"Edward?" He turns back to look at me.

The creaking of the door that moves back and forth behind him is the only noise that I hear.

I take a deep breath.

I hate the way my voice trembles and shudders.

I hate the way that even though I've been completely unclothed in front of Edward, I've never felt this naked in my life.

I hate the way that it sounds so insignificant when it escapes from my mouth, yet it's probably the most momentous thing in my entire life.

"I love you."

Silence, calm, expectation like the eye of the storm.

He blinks like he doesn't get it, expression emotionless.

Then eyes not leaving mine he nods in acknowledgement, turns around, and walks out.

I break.

***

Okay so I guess I owe you some fluff...?

Reviews are loved, devoured, appreciated etc.