May, 2012
I can't get out of the bar fast enough.
And leaving him this time doesn't feel all that different than before.
It still breaks me, still devastates me.
I walk as quickly as I can on these goddamn heels – heels I wore because I wanted him to think I was still pretty. Only it doesn't matter if he thinks I'm pretty because he still hates me after everything that happened. He still thinks that I'm the one who ruined us. He still thinks…
"Bella," he calls from behind me. "Bella, please…stop."
But I don't stop. I know that if I can just get to the elevator, I'll be able to get away. I'll be able to think about this, process this. I'll be able to go back to my life – the life I built on my own – and pick up the pieces again and try to move forward.
Without Edward.
Thankfully, the elevator is open. Rushing, stumbling, I make my way inside and hit the button for my floor upstairs. I close my eyes, waiting for the door to shut because then – only then – will I be able to let go.
The door closes, and I finally let myself cry.
.
.
.
February, 2002
"They offered me a job," I say, excited, bouncing a little on the bed next to him. "They're only taking one of the interns on full-time, and they chose me."
I look up into his eyes, expecting to see excitement that matches my own, maybe pride. I was so proud of him when he was accepted into medical school last month. But his eyes are darker, his body stiff. I wrap my arms around him, loving the way I can feel him relax into my touch.
"So, what does that mean?" he asks. "Will you…would you move to New York after graduation?"
His hand is stroking my back, and I love the way it feels. I love the way he feels. I press my lips against his neck, kissing a little…sucking a little. He moans and pulls me closer.
"They're giving me some time to make my decision," I say. "I wanted to talk to you. And I'll need to talk to Charlie before I decide anything for certain."
He relaxes even further, pulling me over his lap until I'm straddling his hips. And the way he looks at me takes my breath away. It's always the same. And still – even after almost four years – I melt into a puddle with just one look.
"Are…" I start, biting my lip before pressing a small kiss against his soft lips. "Aren't you proud of me?"
"You're amazing," he breathes. "I'm so fucking proud of you, Bella. I knew…I knew they would choose you."
His words are exactly what I want to hear, but for some reason, they don't soothe me.
"You're smart," he continues, "beautiful…amazing."
His hands have made their way under my shirt; they're rubbing and touching the bare skin of my back. I lean in and kiss him again – this time full and deep and wet. He groans into my mouth as his hands slide around and in between us. They push up my bra and cup my breasts. His thumbs graze across my nipples, and I gasp at how good it all feels. How he can make me feel this way – this needy and desperate for him – in such a short amount of time.
"Your nipples are hard," he says against my lips.
"They like you," I giggle.
"Yeah?" he asks, pushing up my shirt.
I lift my hands up, allowing him to take it off. And then he removes my bra before cupping my breasts again, leaning in and licking and kissing and sucking.
"Yes," I breathe. Maybe I'm answering his question; maybe I'm just saying the only thing I'm capable of in the moment.
"God, I love your body," he says, his tongue licking a long line between my breasts.
He bites down on the soft swell, and then he sucks the flesh into his mouth. Hard.
So hard and so fucking good.
"Just my body?" I pant.
I'm mostly teasing, but a small part of me needs to know that he loves me the same way I love him.
Completely.
Wholly.
Forever.
He pulls his mouth from my breast. His lips are shiny and wet, and I can't help but notice the small cherry-colored mark on my breast. He notices it, too. His fingers slide against it whisper-soft.
"You," he murmurs. "I love everything about you. Your breasts, your ass, your pussy…" He laughs a little, but then his face grows serious. "But mostly…mostly I love your heart."
"I love you, too," I whisper, overcome with his words and the intimacy of this moment. "I love you so much, Edward."
"What do you want?" he asks, pressing a kiss to the small bruise that's forming. "What do you want right now?"
"You," I tell him, meaning it completely, meaning it forever. "I want you."
I can feel him, long and hard and pressing up against me. I press myself down and rub against him.
"Do you want me inside?" he whispers, his hand sliding down and cupping me through the denim of my jeans. "Do you want me right here?" Two fingers press and rub hard enough for me to feel it through the fabric. And I cling to him, never wanting to let him go. Never wanting to lose this – what we have – ever.
"Yes," I tell him, standing up and removing the rest of my clothes.
He watches every movement, his eyes absorb every inch of naked skin. And then he undresses before pulling me back on top.
"Take it," he says. "Take me…all the way inside. I want to feel you."
And reaching down, I do exactly what he says. Feeling every single inch of him, as he opens me, stretches me…loves me like only he can.
.
.
.
His eyes are staring back at me when I open mine.
"Edwa…" I gasp, but can't finish because as soon as I open my mouth, his hands are on me.
Pulling me to him, then pushing me back into the corner of the elevator.
"No," he rasps. "You walked away before. I'm not letting you walk away again."
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A/N
Reviews are love.
Please leave me some.
Thank you. A million times, thank you all so much. I love your comments, your theories…and even your raging. And I am so grateful that you choose to spend any time reading my words. I adore you all.
Caren, Jaime, Kourt, Laura and Raina…thank you for everything. For reading this, for telling me your thoughts, but mostly for being these wonderful sources of laughter and joy and friendship in my life.
Marvar, ILYSFM. I'm not feeling particularly funny, so I have no snarky words. But I want you to know that I couldn't do this without you. You are the peanut butter to my chocolate.
See you in the morning!