A/n: This is for Lee and the others that mailed me over my time away from posting. I was nice to have people search you out because they want to know the end.
Big question at the end of the chappy tho. Let me know your thoughts.
Thanks to Ozza for fixing this out for me too.
Chapter ten
BPOV
The shower rained down on us, and as I looked up to Edward through my own tears. I knew I had over reacted. He was never going to hurt me, but my mind had been made up in that moment, and all I could feel was the fear of him pushing too far.
"You were attacked?" he asked, completely dumbfounded at my revelation. My attack wasn't as severe as Edward, but it nearly was, and my will to hide my story was lost as the pressure of the moment and the situation grew tense.
I nodded, telling him yes. His head was no doubt swarming with a million different thoughts. Or maybe there weren't any at all. Maybe he wouldn't believe me. I never told anyone, so why should he?
"When?" he pushed, his tone gentle and his arms still held onto me as I sat on his knee in the warm rain.
When? A long time ago. But not so long ago that I'd forgotten or that I've let it stop interfering with my life. I knew what it had done to me, and I knew I had to work through the issues, but I had boxed it up and pushed it to the side. Generally, I never let it affect me. Except when it came to men. There was reason why I was single.
Taking in a gasp of air, I avoided the stream as I began to speak, feeling myself calm in his arms. The same arms that I had not long ago, ran from, fearing him.
Why did I fear him?
His voice pulled me back from my thoughts once more. "When, Bella?" He was looking down at me intently. He was worried. His head was racing with thoughts. I could practically see the images flash across his irises.
I shook my head at him. "No. Not like that. Not like you." my words mumbled out. "I fought him off. I-I don't know how... I just managed it." I shrugged.
Why did it cause me to freak out like I had, though? It was nothing more than being pressed up against the outside wall of some nightclub but it had put me off of contact from men. Then Edward came along, and although I initially feared him – thought I think all I really feared was my life being taken from me – I wasn't scared of him now. Not any more. But I wanted to push him and take what I could get from him simply because I could. I didn't fear him. He could touch me, and I never felt paralysed by it. I wanted his touch. I wanted more of what I had last night, because with him I could take it.
I didn't know what it meant.
When I had been grabbed at the club that night, I was pressed into a dark corner, and for a moment in time I didn't get to choose. He pressed up against me and tried to have his way. To let his hands roam across me. I tried pushing him away, but nothing happened. He was too strong. And he didn't listen to a word I said. My cries were ignored and the music drowned my sounds out to others as my free will disappeared from my grasp.
Any man could do that with me. I was small and there wasn't really that much of me. I was easily pushed around in a crowd, so what chance did I have against anyone one that decided to force themselves on me?
Pulling away from my social life wasn't hard. I had a few friends but I never told them what had happened. I had Jacob, and I knew that with him I was safe. I didn't need any other man in my life. It was easy. I focused on my studies.
Then Edward saved me.
I found myself being more and more drawn to him.
Then we had sex, and as good as it was, he rejected me. Pushed me to the side and told me to forget about it. The one man I had ever put trust in.
I wanted to test him and push for more, but his moral compass seemed to show, and he rejected me telling me it had to mean something.
It was sex. Why did it have to mean anything? It wasn't going to mean a thing to that man at the club two years ago. With Edward, it could have been fun, like last night had been. I wanted more fun and Edward was the only person I could seem to go near without freezing up.
Maybe I was sick in the head. I just wanted to be reckless with him and he wasn't allowing it. And now he had me crying, telling him that I had been attacked.
I wasn't attacked – not in comparison to how he had been brutalized. He was going to hate me for making him worry, worry over nothing. Some guy got handsy outside a club and I couldn't control myself.
His arms tightened around me, and I loved how it made me feel. Safe.
He was my piece of safety and I had hit him. God, I had actually hit him.
Maybe it was the whole situation that was getting to me or maybe... maybe... I didn't know what to think any more.
I was growing irrational with cabin fever, and Edward was the only one that I could take it out on. He wasn't a saint himself, but we had to find some way to live like this or we were both going to go insane.
I fought my way out of his clutch, and he let me go. I shook on my bare feet and pulled at my pyjama bottoms, pulling them down and off of me. I had my underwear on, though. Besides he had seen me naked before.
Turning away from him, I pulled off my tank top and wiped my eyes and my stupid, fruitless tears. They weren't real tears. Tears of sadness. They were tears of realizing my own insanity.
Walking out of the shower cubical, I reached a towel and wrapped it around me before facing Edward. "Can we talk about this another time?" I asked, not quite meeting his eyes.
He didn't answer, though. Instead, he stripped off his own clothes, down till he was at his boxers and reached for a towel, just like I had done.
I could feel his eyes on me as he went on his way, but I didn't looked back up at him. I didn't want to feel weak for this man. I had thrown myself at him after he had practically tossed me out with the trash, only this morning. I was glutton for punishment.
His long, nimble fingers reached out and gently touched my shoulder. My eyes snapped to the spot, and I could feel a low hum of energy transport though my body at his contact. After a moment he let his thumb brush against the skin of my shoulder too. It sent another bolt of electricity through me. I hated it. And I loved it.
I wanted to ask him to touch me some more – to put his hands all over me and to let me really feel him. I wanted to know if last night were a fluke or if it were him that had something over me. But I didn't say a word. I kept quiet because he already thought I was barking mad. I didn't need to give him more evidence.
His stare was still on me, and I still avoided those green eyes. The tension was monumental, but I still ignored it. I waited for him to leave me, to walk out. But he never did. He stood there in his towel and his jaded jade eyes pierced through me as I finally found the guts to look him in the eye.
What was he waiting for? Why wouldn't he just leave me already?
Guilt passed thought me as I saw the side of his face was marbling with purple and blue hues. No doubt come morning it would be a whole lot more colourful.
"What?" I finally snapped. Why did he keep looking at me like that?
He looked away for a moment, and I could see him thinking though his choice of words. "I-I can get you anywhere you want, you know? Tell me where you want to go and I'll let you go. I'll make sure you get there." His words were low and empty. His eyes seemed so hollow as he spoke. He didn't want me to go. I knew it. He would be all alone if I did.
Did I really want to go? Did I want to leave him? Finally I was getting to make a decision and now I didn't want it. I wanted to stay here.
I shook my head as I looked at him. "No," I told him. But it didn't sound like me. My voice sounded foreign. It was low and desperate, pleading not to be sent away. "I want to stay here." I let my eyes drop once again. I was standing in a towel and I felt like I was totally exposed to him, but not physically. I was emotionally exposed to him. And I still wanted him to touch me.
Touch me.
Touch me.
Touch me.
The words played over and over in my head and I was surprised they hadn't come tumbling out of my mouth.
Touch me.
What if I touched him? Would he pull away from me again. Would he stop me like he had or would he embrace it this time.
His fingers still ghosted my bare, damp shoulder. I wanted to put my hand over his. I wanted to reach for him.
Then his hand was gone.
He dropped it by his waist before picking up a hand towel to dry off his hair.
As if nothing had happened, he turned away from me and wiped at his gloriously damp skin as if I weren't even there.
Turning to the mirror, he turned his back to me, and I could see the small droplets of water slide down his pale skin. His skin was snow white.
I reached out and let my fingers graze off his skin, and at my touch, he froze.
His eyes met mine in the mirror. I had a million questions come into my mind but only one stood out. "Why did you come to my room?" He had come in and had lain down beside me. Why?
His eyebrows raised, looking a little taken back by my question. "Why did you kiss me?" He asked the question I really didn't want to have to answer.
I straightened my shoulders, challenging him. "Because I wanted you to touch me."
He frowned and his eyes fell to the floor instantly. I could see him swallow thickly as he took in my words. "Did you want to touch me?" I asked, suddenly feeling a little bolder than what I should have been.
Turning to me, he folded his arms across his front. "Why would I want to touch you?" he laughed a little nervously. I had him nervous. I could tell with the way he refused to meet my eyes and the higher pitch of his voice. He was trying to avoid my question.
I stepped forward, closer, and silently reached out to him. My right index finger traced along the length of his scar on his chest. I didn't get to reach the end of it, though. He had grabbed me by the wrist and fury burned in his eyes.
"You're still scared." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Last night he had let me touch him and I let him touch me, but in the sober light, he refused to come near me and didn't want me to touch him anymore.
Touch.
It was all done with fingertips trailing along the skin, but it meant a whole lot more than its simple action.
He didn't want me to touch him, and all I wanted was for him to put his hands on me.
It's meant to mean something.
His words came back to my mind. It did mean something, but I just didn't know what. What did this all mean? Why was I here and why was it that only this man could touch me?
With my left hand I reached for his chest once again and once again my hand was grabbed.
He had me now. He was touching me, he was controlling me... and I still wasn't scared. It was a whole other sensation I felt.
I looked from my hands to his face and silently challenged him. I didn't know what I was actually even trying to get from him, but I needed more action.
His jaw hardened and he all but threw my hands out from his grip. Pushing past me he tried to leave the bathroom but I tugged on his towel, exposing the damp boxers that stuck to his skin.
I was met with his eyes instantly, and I was sure I heard a growl come from him. "Mature, Bella. Now grow up." He snapped his towel back out of my hand and continued to glare at me. I needed him to stay and he was going to leave. So I did all I could do in some vain attempt to keep him with me. I pulled my own towel off of me.
Standing there, exposed with the exception of my damp underwear, his eyes roamed my body. It was a body, a female body, one that had him acting out already. Surely he would come to me and just touch me. I needed his hands on me now. I wanted his large hands to cuff my wrists and let me feel that sensation again. I wanted his fingers dancing along my shoulder again. I wanted him to hold on to the tips of my fingers and pull me into him again.
"Do you have any idea how mental you are right now?" he spat. "What the hell do you want? You expect me to come near you after... after all of that." I only nodded.
"You told me you were attacked," he reminded me and all I did was shrug. I couldn't think about that moment that had paralysed me in life. All I could think about was the force that was standing in front of me, bringing me back to life.
He frowned. "That's it?" he asked "That's all you're going to say?" He looked disgusted. He turned and walked away. The look of contempt that he held in his eyes haunted me for the rest of the evening.
Tossing and turning in bed, I realized the stupidity of my words and actions. I made it all so trivial and it wasn't. Least not for Edward.
I wanted him to touch me because he could, and he wanted me away from him, but I kept pushing. Then to shrug my attack off as if it were nothing... It wasn't nothing, it had left a permanent mark on my life, but right now it didn't feel like that. It felt like something that was long ago, in the past. Edward's attack was new and very serious. No wonder he was mad at me and my childish behavior.
Should I apologize?
I couldn't seem to sleep without him. I wasn't sure if it was guilt or the fact that I was still in this strange house, in this strange situation.
What had I said and done? Was he ever going to forgive me for this?
What if he had enough and decided to send me away. He already said he would if I wanted. But what about what he wanted?
I had to go to him. I had to explain.
My hair was still damp, but I ignored it and continued on my way to Edward with only the tank top and shorts I wore.
Tiptoeing, I reached his bedroom door and slowly opened it. I held my breath at the thought of catching him off guard and me promptly being held up with that stupid gun again. I let him know it was only me, but I was sure he already knew. "Edward," I warned as I paced the carpet, edging my way to his bed.
He shuffled in the covers and I could hear the fine rustle of the material. "How the hell did I know that you would be back?" he asked a little sharply, but tiredly.
"Because you knew that I knew you would huff until you got an apology?" I quipped back as I gently slapped his arm and climbed over him to the other side of his bed.
I felt strangely relaxed around him. Especially for being turned down by him when all I had been in was a damp pair of underwear. To be honest... they weren't the nicest of underwear, but they were my kind of underwear. Little boy shorts. But still, I was almost naked.
I heard him sigh as he shifted in the covers once more. "Are you in here for the duration?" he asked, a little pissed sounding and no doubt going by my actions of getting comfortable in his bed. Tough.
"Okay, can we get over this, Edward? I know what I said didn't really make sense, but if you let me explain, it will sound at least a little bit better." He let out a low groan.
"A couple of years ago I had this run in with some guy outside a club. He wouldn't stop touching me. His hands were all over me and he just kept grabbing me and pulling me into him... I know it sounds kinda stupid, but it freaked me out, so bad that-that I don't let guys touch me... I mean... I can't." Quick, straight to the point and hopefully some understanding of how it affected me.
That was a stupid thought. This was Edward; he was going to want to know more. Reaching for the lamp, he switched it on promptly lighting up the room from its darkness. The same darkness I felt brave in. I wasn't feeling so brave now with the light shining in my eyes.
"What do you mean you can't? You were asking me to touch you. Why would you do that?" His eyes narrowed as he tried to focus on my features and let his eyes adjust to the light at the same time.
"I know. But you kissed me last night and I never panicked. We... we did what we did and I still didn't freak out. Guys can't put their hands on me without me panicking," I explained. "I just wanted to see if it was the same when I was sober?"
"So you tried to have sex with me?" he spat.
"Sorry if it seems like your slumming it," I nipped back. "But, yes. You were touching me and... and I wasn't freaking out." I sighed feeling like a total fool. He wasn't going to understand where I was coming from. The serious deep fear inside of me when a man approached me.
Generally I could hide it well. I served men in the coffee shop often enough that I could have general conversation with them without the need to hide below the table. But the men that looked at me as if I were prey, they were the ones that terrorized me. I waited to be grabbed and whenever I walked home, I was careful not to walk into trouble. Even though that was exactly what happened the night Edward had saved me. I had trusted James because he pretend to be looking out for me, for my father – he wasn't going to be trying it on... I just never realized that I was prey for some gangster as well.
Rolling toward me, he reached out and took my hand while offering a small smile. "I'm not slumming it with you. You just need to see that there is more to it than that. I bet if you actually let yourself talk to someone and built up trust like you have with me, you would be fine."
He was severally misunderstanding my fear.
I didn't want to even try to start a connection with a man in the hope of having trust with that person. I just wanted to be alone and for no one to try to touch me.
But Edward had. And now I was begging for more of it to see if it really was the alcohol. I knew that he had held my arms, but I trusted him. Maybe it would be diffident if he tried to be intimate with me again.
How the hell did I ask for that after he had knocked me back – twice. And yet here I was, back in his bed. Did I have no pride?
He had always touched me though and it wasn't a thought. I went to him like a magnet. I hadn't even realized. When I was scared, I would run to him.
He looked after me. He kept me fed, he kept me safe, and he kept me clothed and even educated.
I was beginning to hate this situation. I was not a woman to be kept. I didn't want his money. All I wanted was his touch.
Thinking about it, I had asked him to touch me and if I could touch him. What the hell had the tequila done to my mind? I lost all my fear. Was it all about being bottle brave or was there something else there?
I slipped my hand out from his grasp and reached to touch his chest.
Of course he stopped me instantly. "Why do you keep stopping me when you let me touch you last night?" I had cut his hair, shaved him, felt his chest. Was he all about being bottle brave as well? "Why don't you let people touch you?" I snapped.
He pulled away from me and closed himself off. "I do let people touch me. It's all I have done since the attack. Everyone touches me. Do you know what it's like to feel open like that? Some doctor had his hands on my heart. It's still sensitive and... I hate it. I just don't want you having access to that part of me," he grunted.
I sat up and looked down at him. Reaching forward he gently swerved my hand as I reached for his face.
Here I was trying to conquer my own fear and Edward was running along with his.
I reached for him again, capturing his cheek in my palm and stroking his face gently. He swallowed thickly and his eyes were huge like saucers, but he didn't try to pull away this time.
That was strange. His skin felt like it was on fire, his skin clammy. "Do you feel all right?" I asked a little concerned by his temperature.
"Yes. I just don't like people touching me. I'm sure you can understand that." His tone was crisp, but it wasn't as harsh as it had been.
I shook my head. "No. I mean your temperature. Are you feeling all right? You're awfully hot."
A smile crept onto his lips. "I'm still not touching you, Bella." I playfully slapped his arm and shook my head again.
"No. Seriously. You are burning up." I put my hand to his forehead and he accepted my touch without trying to dodge me this time.
He was defiantly forming a temperature. No doubt I had been the cause of it after he followed me out into the rain earlier.
He looked at me, and his eyes were tired. He needed rest in the hope of stopping whatever was working on him. "You should get some sleep." I told him gently. He nodded at my words as his eyes fluttered.
Reaching over, I turned the lamp off and the room turned to darkness again. He hadn't looked too great at all so I decided to lay down beside him in case he needed me for anything.
He tried to argue and tell me to go back to my own bed, but I really didn't want to be there alone anyway, and this was my excuse. I stuck close to the edge of the bed to give him all the space he wanted and with another half hearted, half exhausted argument, he gave up and let himself fall asleep.
He slept thought the night but he was restless. The covers were on him then they were off him, only to be put back on him once more. That was how it went all night.
By the time morning came, he was sound asleep and worn out. His face was an ill colour of grey and under his eyes were pretty dark too. As I reached over to check his temperature, he woke up, his eyes never really opening all the way.
"How are you feeling this morning?" I asked as I let my fingers sweep across his forehead. He made no attempt to escape my hand this time, so I knew he wasn't well.
He mumbled a "fine" into his pillow before he rolled over on to his front as I reached for the back of his neck. He was soaked with sweat.
"Edward, you are not fine," I argued. "I'll get you some Tylenol to bring down your temperature and get you some water and some orange juice." He needed to try to replenish what his body was ringing out of him.
Watching him try to get up, I pushed him back into his bed. "No, Edward. You should stay in bed."
His arms seemed weak as he tried to lift himself up and as I headed for the door, he was trying to get out of bed. He wobbled from side to side and I could see him become dizzy and lost on his feet. His legs buckled and I rushed to him to push him back down to the mattress before he hit the floor.
"Easy, okay." My fingers swept at the side of his hair and his eyes closed at my touch. "Let's get you tucked back in and I'll get you what you need."
With his eyes still closed he shook his head. "No. I'm fine. Just give me a minute." I don't think he even believed his own lie. The tone of his voice wasn't doing much to encourage me.
"Please... Just let me look after you, okay? I think I owe you one." I kept my tone light and continued to sweep my fingers through his hair as I watched him. His eyes were still shut.
Sliding up the mattress, he got back into his position and eased onto his pillows. He let out a tired sigh as his hand reached out. Reaching for him, I took it in both my hands and brought my face to his before moving my right hand to his forehead in the aid to wipe away some stray hairs that were sticking to his forehead.
Eventually he opened his eyes and asked for his cell phone. I was adamant that he wasn't going to get it, but I knew if I refused him, he would only get back out of bed to get it himself.
Walking to his vanity, I picked up his phone and took it to him. Leaving him alone, I headed down stairs to get him what he needed to help bring down that temperature.
Of course, Edward being Edward, he still had control of any situation from the confines of his bed. He had been quick on the phone to make me an appointment with a doctor to get the morning after pill.
I knew it was needed, but it was more than embarrassing having him sort out my appointment with the gynaecologist for me. Not only that, but he had arranged a car for me – a proper chauffeur driven car – not a cab or a lift from perhaps someone trustworthy, like Rosalie. Instead I had Riley. He was young, a little shorter than Edward, and had dark brown hair. He was pleasant enough, but something told me that he was all about business because Edward was all about business.
After seeing the doctor, and having her thrust about six months' worth of contraception at me (despite my protests), I made it back to the car.
Riley leaned against the door of the gorgeous black Limousine as he looked up to the clear sky that had recovered from last night's rain.
He heard my footsteps and his eyes jumped to me. He was back on his feet, standing straight. His body was ridged as he opened the door for me. I gave a shy smile and a "thank you" as I got in, closing the door behind me.
Looking around the back seat, I didn't know what to say or do. Riley's eyes checked on me every so often and I would smile at him.
The silence was deafening and I needed to have conversation. I needed conversation with someone other than Edward. "So... have you worked for Edward long?" I probed.
His eyes met mine in the mirror before giving a quick, "Yes, mama." I nodded and sank further into my seat.
Did he know much about Edward? Edward had spoken of driving himself when Jasper had taken us up to Forks. Why did he have a driver?
"Do you drive him around a lot?" I pushed.
His eyes met mine again and he gave a hesitant nod come shake. What was that meant to tell me? "I don't mean to speak out of turn, mama, but I don't want it to appear that I'm reporting him to his new partner."
Partner.
Partner?
"I'm not his partner," I spat out at him a little too quickly and loudly as I pounced forward in my seat. "I mean we're friends - Sort of. And can you call me Bella?" I asked, hoping that he would drop all the formal graces as they were starting to grate on me a little.
"Sure, Bella." He quickly turned his head over his shoulder and gave a small smile.
I tried again, "I don't know Edward that well." I emphasized on the word that, because in reality I knew him lot more than I had known any other man. "He is a friend of my dad's." I told him. It was almost true.
I leaned back into my seat and let the silence fall between us. A few minutes passed before he let out a small sigh. "His girlfriend usually was the one to be driven around," he told me. "Dr. Cullen would only really be driven if it was some kind of event or important meeting."
"Event?" I asked a little confused. Do doctors tend to go to events?
"Yes. There were a few celebrities that used his services," he rolled his eyes at that one. "They had a lot of press surrounding them. A few charity events to keep higher powers happy, and of course just their general PR." He let it all come flying out of his mouth so fast, he stopped himself with wide eyes.
"And?" I pushed once more.
"I think I have said enough. Like I said, I don't want Dr. Cullen to think I'm reporting on him." He gave a shy worried smile that asked if I was going to keep the conversation between us.
"What about his father?" I tried. Riley remained quiet. He kept his eyes on the road and it was as if I never spoke. "His dad?" Why did he go quiet? "I won't tell anyone," I promised.
He let out a little frustrated groan, but gave me what I wanted to hear – well some of it. "Cullen senior... he's - he's an interesting man." Another groan escaped his lips before he quickly looked back over his shoulder at me. "Do you want to hear what I should say, or do you want to hear what I think?" Looking back from the mirror, his eyes looked at me with raised brows. He was cutting all the crap if I wanted it that way. Of course I wanted it that way.
"Is he as bad as they make him out to be?" I asked.
"He's probably worse," he told me truthfully. "He had some serious control issues and Edward – I mean Dr. Cullen was his main puppet."
I sniggered at his fear of Edward's name slipping out of his mouth instead of Dr. Cullen. Geezo, Dr. Cullen.
"And do you think it's helped Edward to be away from his father?" I asked. I knew I had seen changes in him myself and I hadn't even known Edward as long as Riley had.
"I really couldn't tell you. He sacked me right after his attack – But I got my jab back this morning." He beamed with a fake smile and some kind of after thought.
"You don't like him, do you? Edward, I mean." He didn't seem to be that pleased to be working for him.
"I like him. I do. He's up front and honest but he's a little too... damaged. And a little demanding. I already had another job but he doubled my salary if I started this afternoon." Riley began to grow a little hesitant after he spoke. He never said anything, it was how he was acting. It was as if he wished to take back all he had said.
"Thanks for talking to me. It's helped me to figure him out a little bit more." I replied just as we began to pull outside the house.
It still didn't feel like Home of the Free, but at least I knew that someone was inside waiting for me.
I only hopped that Edward was feeling a little better now.
I let myself in to the house and closed the door behind me. On the stair, Edward sat waiting. His eyes were still tired and he looked even worse than he had before.
"What are you doing out of bed?" I snapped at him and then regretted it. I didn't want it to sound like I was telling him what to do, but at the same time he was clearly sick.
"I wanted to know if you were all right?" He was being genuine and it made me hate myself for being sort with him.
"Fine," I nodded. "She was very nice to me and so was Riley." I was just trying to keep the lorry load of contraception out of his view. I said I didn't need it and I didn't want Edward to think that I had ideas far beyond my station.
He nodded. " Riley's nice. That's why I hired him for you. He's there for you, whenever you need a car to go somewhere. I know I'm keeping you in close, but I understand that you might want away from here for a little while. I trust him and he won't take you anywhere that I don't agree to."
He hired a driver and car for me? Why?
But of course, it came with Edwards stamp of approval.
"I don't need a driver, Edward. And you should be in bed," I reminded him a little pointedly. Walking toward him, I reached for his face to check his temperature. He still felt like he was burning up.
As per usual, though, he swerved my hand. "Do you mind not touching me?" he mumbled as he tried to stand.
He stood tall above me and tried to assert some kind of authority over me with our height difference. He failed miserably, though, when his legs buckled and he reached out for me, grabbing hold of me for stability.
I caught him in my hands and he huffed as he tried to stand up straight and act as if nothing had happened. "What's this?" he asked as he reached for my prescription bag.
"Nothing that is any business of yours," I snapped back and pulled away from him altogether. "Get back into bed and I'll bring you some lunch," I ordered a little more gently. He was looking worn and earlier he had said he had a head ache. I didn't want to make him feel any worse.
"I can look after myself, Bella." His argument was weak, and so was his tone of voice. He could barely stand up straight, and I was already worried. Was it so hard for him to be the one that needed a little help? Even only if it was only this one occasion.
I turned away from him and shook my head as I walked away. "Bed, Edward," was all I said to end the argument.
Walking to the kitchen I headed for the huge pot of vegetable soup I had made earlier. It had been left to simmer, letting all the flavours and stock develop properly. Taking bread out of the pantry, I cut off a couple of slices of the thick wholemeal for Edward and poured some soup in a bowl and fixed the lot up on a tray. I added a bottle of fresh water and some more fruit juice to the tray along with some medication for his fever and his sore head.
Pusing through his bedroom door, I smiled at him doing what I asked of him. Lying in bed. He gave a tight lipped smile as he sat up and waited for me to bring his food.
I was careful to place the tray on his lap so not to spill anything on him. His eyes fluttered again and I knew it was because there was something wrong with him. He was so decisive though. He wouldn't hear of me calling out a doctor to check him over. His argument was that he was a doctor and he said he was fine so I was to quit nagging.
Nagging?
Seriously?
"You know you don't have to do any of this," he wheezed out. That sound was new. That sound had me worried. Why had he wheezed if there was nothing wrong with him?
I ignored it for the moment and answered him. "Well I wanted to." I shrugged as I stroked his hair out of his sweaty face. He didn't jump away from my touch this time. He was probably concentrating on the boiling soup that sat on his lap.
He let out a small moan of pleasure as he tasted the soup and I left him be while he ate.
I had spent the day deep in the midst of my books as Edward had tried to sleep off his fever. It was almost eight o'clock when I decided to check on him.
I left the study and climbed the stairs, going straight in without knocking on his door for warning. When I opened the door, I got a bit of a surprise. Edward, naked, sitting on his bed with all but a towel barely covering his modesty.
"Bella," he called my name with anguish as he tried to cover himself up with the duvet. "Get out," he ordered promptly.
I tore my eyes away from him and looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry. I thought you were asleep... Did you just have a shower?" As if the evidence wasn't right in front of me.
"Not that it's any concern of yours, but yes. I had a shower." He let out a sigh. "Will you leave and let me get dressed,"
I put my hands up in surrender before quickly turning my back and scurrying out the door. Was he okay? He had struggled on his feet this afternoon.
Without even a beat, I heard a clatter from inside his bedroom alerting me that he, in fact, wasn't okay.
Rushing through his door, I didn't wait for niceties, not after I had heard that commotion. When I opened the door I found him lying on his back, but this time with boxer shorts covering him up.
"I'm fine," he groaned, answering my question before I even had time to ask it. "I just got a bit hot and dizzy from the shower." His eyes closed as he rubbed at his smooth face, his pink scars keeping their prominent colour.
Getting down on my knees, I checked him over. He felt cold, but he said he was hot and dizzy. "How are you feeling right now?" I asked as I felt his chest for his body temperature. His hand came down over mine but he didn't say a word; he turned to look me in the eyes.
He looked exhausted. I wanted to wrap my arms around his neck and call for a doctor, but he would never accept either one.
His eyes fluttered closed again, but this time they stayed shut. He seemed like he was almost sleeping as he lay out on the floor.
He let out shallow breaths and he continued to have a small wheeze follow his inhales and exhales. It had me really worried. Only two months ago he had his heart literally stitched back together. He was still weak and frail, even if he didn't look it or even seem to show any sign of fragility.
So I was there for him. Because he was cold and because he needed someone to simply be there for him. Pulling on the duvet, I brought it down to us on the floor and rested my head on his chest. He tried to argue but I ignored him again. It was becoming a habit.
Like I said, he tried to argue. He put up a moments fight before quickly conceding to me and my ways and wrapping an arm around my waist, subsequently pulling me further into him, into his chest.
My ear rested against his scar and I could hear his wheeze a little more clearly as he breathed.
He smelled fresher. I was sure there was some infection starting on him and if he got any worse, I was calling a doctor. Nine-one-one if I had too.
On the floor, the two of us lay in silence as the darkness filled the room, stealing our daylight. Edward gave a little shuffle every so often. And that was it. It was a strange moment, but it was a moment without upset or a battle between us. Or tequila for that matter.
After an hour or so, I got him back into bed and wrapped up in his covers. He was beginning to grow more and more hot again, and I was within an inch of calling for medical intervention.
He lay down slowly across his mattress, and as I began to pull away, to leave him to rest for the evening, he reached out for me. His arm stretched out and his clammy cool hand captured the tips of my fingers.
Turning to face him, I was met with a set of little, lost eyes. He looked young, not with youthful looks, but the look of innocence in him.
"Are you all right?" Did he want something? Did he want a doctor? My knees bent as I pulled myself closer to him, trying to fathom out his needs.
He let out a little, tired cough before he spoke."Will you stay with me?"
Stay with him... In his bed?
It wasn't unusual for us to share a bed. But for Edward to ask me to stay with him, that threw me.
"What?" I shook my head. "I mean, yes. Of course I will." I somehow began to fuss around him as a swarm of butterflies took off in my stomach. Nerves? Now I felt nervous? "Is there anything I can get you first?" I asked as I began to tug on his pillow.
With a gentle grip, he pulled my hand away from my tugging and my nervous behaviour and he shook his head. "No. Can we go to sleep?" He did sound tired. I nodded and told him I would be right back once I had changed into my pyjamas.
He did sleep. In fact, he slept like a baby.
After he had spent thirty minutes to get comfortable, he passed out and rolled straight onto me. I couldn't just ignore him and pretend that his sleeping body wasn't trying to seek out some heat and comfort to get through the night. I cuddled back into him and listened to him breathing. It's what I had been doing for the past four hours.
Despite his sleeping form, he still didn't seem to get any better. He shivered more and more and his grip grew tighter and tighter. His wheezing was quite frankly scaring the shit out of me. and I was laying, there, with baited breath, half expecting him to give up on me.
With hard fast strokes, I tried to warm him up with some friction but only succeeded in waking him up.
I took the moment to jump to his needs instantly. Picking up a blister pack of Tylenol, I popped a couple into my hand. "Take these," I ordered as his sleepy eyes tried to adjust. Switching on the light, the room glowed. I reached for a bottle of water for him to swallow the pills with.
I had enough. I was calling a doctor.
Getting out of his plush super king, I reached for his bathrobe and wrapped it around me as I reached for the phone. Edward only watched with curiosity.
"I need a number of a doctor that can get here right now or I'm taking you to the hospital." I was sharp, a little too sharp, but I wasn't having him tell me no.
"I'm fine, Bella," he argued faintly as he rolled his head back into his pillows.
"No, you're not. You have some kind of virus or infection - and you just had surgery," I pushed.
"I had surgery two months ago. I'll be fine. I just need to shake it off." His hands wiped at his face, and he grabbed on to his hair, struggling to keep arguing.
"Please," I begged. "Just do this and rest my mind. I'm going to go insane." I went to his bedside and landed on my knees as I took his hand in mine, pleading.
He shuffled up on his elbows. "Get off the floor, Bella." He was so done in that he couldn't even begin to put up an argument. He flopped back down into the bed almost instantly.
From my spot on the floor I picked up his cell phone and called the person who Edwards said would be there for me. Riley.
He tried to get his phone back but he was too frail to even get up and take it from me so it served as my point. He needed medical help. "Who are you calling?" Wheeze. That damn sound was going to haunt my ears. It sounded like he was gasping for his last breath.
"Riley," I told him quickly as I tried to work my way around his phone. God, I hated technology. I could manage the basics, but anything beyond that and I was lost.
Wheeze. "You can't call him."
"Watch me."
"He'll be asleep," he tried to reason.
"I don't care. You might die."
He sighed and wheezed."For Christ's sake, Bella. I'm not going to die. I'm just ill. Stop overreacting." I probably was overreacting but I didn't care. It wasn't too much trouble to get a check over from a doctor and for your driver to actually drive you there. He was the one making a mountain out of a molehill.
Was it so hard for him to just settle my mind? To stop me from worrying about him? I didn't like to see him suffer. He had suffered enough already.
The cell phone connected and began to ring. I waited, hoping for Riley to answer. I'm sure if he saw Edward's name flash across his phone, he would answer.
He did. He answered after three rings, and I felt myself relax a little. Our conversation was short, but he was more than obliging. I'm sure he was after Edward doubling his salary.
Ending the call, I knew I had to get Edward and myself ready. Riley was going to take about thirty minutes to get here, but it was better than nothing.
I was wearing Edward's bathrobe, and realizing exactly what I had on, and whom it belonged too, I felt some annoyance at having to take it off. Why? It was a bathrobe.
Putting the thought in my head to the side, I pushed on with what was needed. I would get myself dressed first.
"I'll be right back and then I'll help you get ready," I told Edward. He rose an eyebrow, as if he was simply having none of it. I didn't care, because right now I was the one that was taking control of the situation. I was in control.
I was in control.
For the first time since I had been with Edward, I was beginning to think that this situation wasn't entirely out of my hands. I had some grip on the things that went on. Hell, it wasn't as if Edward had forced himself upon me. It had been me who allowed it. I had control over myself and to a point, control over Edward in the same way I let him have control over me.
I knew he blamed himself, but I was as much to blame as him. It was just something that had happened.
I left him in his room and quickly threw on sweats and a hooded top that belonged to Edward. Why did I have his top? I shook it off and hurried to get ready so to help Edward.
He put up a fight and a good old fashion moan about his modesty and that I shouldn't see him undressed. Was he forgetting the floor-hugging only hours ago? Or better yet, the sex we had around this time yesterday.
He rolled his eyes at me, and I helped him steady on his feet as he pulled on his sweats before bending down to put socks on him. I won't even begin with his words on that one. Something involving the words "fucking" and "geriatric". I kept my snide comments to myself only because he was unwell. If it had been any other time, he would have got the wrath of my tongue.
Edward was almost sleeping again by the time Riley had arrived. I met Riley at the door and asked for him to help me take Edward to the car. Edward was never going to manage it by himself. He seemed to get worse as the minutes ticked by, and I was beginning to feel genuinely sick with worry.
What was happening to him? I hated having no clue and not being able to even attempt to help him. Tylenol wasn't cutting it anymore and I had run out of options.
Another argument. Edward only wanted to wear his t-shirt to the hospital. He was too warm now. It would do him no good though to go out in the cold night only half dressed. He still needed to keep warm.
Who the hell was the doctor here?
Edward was definitely the patient and a really bad one at that. He was about to kill my own patience.
The hospital was a blur.
Who knew so many people got sick during the night?
All we seemed to do was wait.
Riley was shattered and I insisted that he go back to the house and find himself a room to sleep in. I don't actually know why I had called him out in the middle of the night. It would have been a lot better to get a cab to the hospital. The thought of hearing any bad news and me being alone had me worried. What would I do? Who would I call? Sure, I knew to call Emmett and I could call Jasper. But what if it was really bad and I just couldn't handle it? What if I couldn't make those simple calls? Would the hospital do it for me?
So Riley left us. It was me and Edward and countless others all waiting for help. My chest continued to tighten as Edward struggled more and more. He just kept stumbling down that hill.
His head rested on my knee and his body was all crammed up on the two seats next to me. I had no idea how he could get his six foot odd frame tied up like that, but he managed it. He was tired and would fall in and out of sleep. His fingers gripped deep into my thigh as he continued to tremble. He was hot and he was cold. Even I couldn't decide what he was. His forehead was blazing but he kept saying he was cold and that was with my hoodie over his shoulders.
I sat in my t-shirt. I was cold too. I still had no jacket and that hoodie was the warmest thing I had with me at Edwards. But all I cared about was that it helped Edward. If I did have a jacket, I would have given him that too.
My own eyes began to close. The sting behind my eyelids telling me just to let it go and get some rest.
"Edward Cullen?" A male voice called from across the Emergency department. My eyes darted up.
I rose my hand trying to signal to the doctor. Edward was asleep once again and had heard nothing. "Over here," I called.
A man with short dark hair came toward me with a warm, knowing smile.
"Edward," I caressed his cheek lightly in an attempt to wake him. "Edward, there is a doctor ready for you."
His green eyes shone with sickness, a glazed expression crossing his features.
"Hey, Edward. I'm Dr. Ross. I'm gonna take a look over you, all right?" Dr. Ross's arms reached out for Edward, helping him to his feet and have him walk to the examination room. I followed behind him, unsure if he wanted me there or not. I suppose he would let me know if he didn't.
After I had explained his symptoms to the doctor and Edward drawing dirty looks at me, the doctor began listening to his chest.
Pulling up his shirt, he was met with Edward's scar. Dr. Ross stopped and focused on it for a second before he began. "How did you get that scar?" the doctor asked gently as he trailed his fingers over it. Edward looked at me and I could read the words from his eyes. Look, see, he's touching me. I could hear the snarky tone of voice and all.
"I was stabbed. Went right through. They had to patch me up in the OR," Edward quickly explained.
The doctor frowned, thinking. He never spoke though.
"I thought it might be a chest infection with his wheezing," I put in to the silence as the doctor stood there thinking.
Dr. Ross turned to me and gave me a beautiful smile. God he was gorgeous. Why hadn't I noticed before? "I think you are right about that. I'll order an X-ray and see what's going on." His smile faded and he looked back at Edward in thought. "I'm going to call in a scan for you too, okay?" He nodded to Edward.
Scan.
Why?
"Why the scan?" I jumped to Edward's side, clutching his hand.
"I'm just checking that everything is okay. Nothing to worry about. Like you, I think it's a chest infection. But he did have surgery not too long ago. I think we should take a little look and make sure everything is okay."
"I am still here, you know?" Edward gave out with a bitter tone, annoyed.
"Edward, be nice," I growled right back and glared at him. He shut up and receded into his bed covers.
"Edward, I'm going to give you an IV of antibiotics and some fluids, okay?" he clarified with a small smile. "There is infection... I just don't know where yet." But I though he said it was in his lungs like I had said?
That worried me.
Edward nodded silently.
"Do you wish for me to contact your next of kin? It's down on your insu-"
"NO!" Edward actually shouted and sat up in his bed.
I jumped with fright and looked at him. He wasn't mad, he seemed scared.
The doctor nodded. "As you wish,"
Lying back down, Edward gathered his composure. "Yes. Bella is my next of kin now. Anything happens to me, it's up to her."
My heart leapt into my throat as I looked at him. Was he trusting me, practically a stranger, to decide the important issues of his health? Hell, his life?
"Edward," I tried to begin.
"No, Bella. You are it. Okay?" I somehow gave out a small nod, answering him yes. Inside I was anything but okay with it.
"All right. I'll be back soon enough. There will be a nurse in to give you your IV and then take you to X-ray and for a scan at the same time." And with that, the doctor left us.
"You had a big smile for him," Edward randomly bit at me.
What? What was he talking about?
"What are you talking about?" I eyed him with a furrowed as I took my seat.
"You and the doctor. All smiles. I mean, he is good looking." Wait, what?
"Are you having some kind of fit of delusion with that high temperature of yours?" Where was this coming from? He was in a hospital bed, barely conscious, yet he was picking on me for being nice to the doctor. What did he want? Me to argue with Dr. Ross?
"No. I'm serious. He's good looking, a doctor, so I know he has money and he was interested in you," he told me seriously. I think?
I laughed at him. "You have lost your mind. God, I should have brought you here hours ago." I shook my head at his words.
"You should ask him out." Oh my god. He was delusional. No man like him would go out with me. Or even take a second look.
"Okay, stop, Edward," I ordered, feeling a little uncomfortable with this entire conversation.
"No. Just go and ask him out." Did Edward want rid of me? "I know you think he's good looking." He taunted. Why was he starting all this? In the middle of the night? I didn't want to ask the doctor out. I didn't want to think about going near him. Yes, he was good looking but Edward's words made my skin crawl.
"Go," he ordered.
"No, Edward. No. Okay? Just stop." I almost shouted the words and only realized my gaff after I let the words escape my mouth. This place was filled with ill people. They didn't need me creating noise.
"Why not? He is good looking?" he pressed again.
"Shut up. Just shut up already." I palmed my eyes and tried to shake his words out of my head.
"But he's good looking," he bit again. Fuck me. Shut up already.
I looked at him sharply and the words came from my mouth before I even thought them through. "Do you think I care what he looks like? Do you think I'm that shallow?"
Edward's eyes dropped and I knew that I had just insulted him, because to Edward, looks meant everything. He was that shallow.
"So what, I'm shallow and you just had sex with me because you like to make the mutilated feel better?" His voice was low and it stung.
I ignored him. He was ill and he was taking it out on anyone he could. He felt crap, so he wanted the whole damn wold to feel the same. I couldn't really blame him.
"So I'm shallow?" His words trailed off into the air between us and he was took my silence as a yes. He was wrong. "I'm shallow," he called out again to the air. "I'm so, so shallow."
"Edward, shut up," I yelped at him as I stood up. Looking him in the eye, I was honest. "If you care about what they look like and what is in their wallet more than you care about what is in the inside, then yes, that makes you shallow. But you are not really like that. So don't start your bullshit and try to hide behind words, or try to hurt me. I'll tell you how it is. I know I'm not the best, but least I'm trying. You just... you just... you won't even let me touch you." I sighed in frustration. "That's the difference between us. I try to open up... and you just want to shut down."
Edward's eyes burned into mine. His green, sick, glazed eyes,burned deep. I couldn't look away.
Why did he always push me away?
Why did I care so damn much?
It wasn't like I was going to be with him forever. Another week and I would be home. I was sure of it.
I was sure of that the first day, though, too.
When did I get to go home? Edward didn't want me near him. He wanted company, but just enough so not to be alone in the house. He didn't want me. Maybe he missed Tanya.
"Dr. Cullen," a sweet warm female voice called as she walked into the exam room. " I'm Ashley. I'm here to connect you up to your IV and get you to X-ray."
"Now don't you worry about a thing," Ashley called out as she wheeled Edward in for his scan. I stopped at the door to allow him his privacy, turning my back to the room. "All you need to do is lie back and maybe even-"
"Bella," Edward called my name. He sounded distressed. "Bella, stay with me." Turning on my feet I was met with worried eyes, so I gave him a small smile and rushed back to his side, taking his hand in mine.
He relaxed a little, and I could see the tension leave his shoulders. He was worried about what they would find. I was sure he'd be fine though. He was fit as a fiddle until I had made him come chasing after me out in the rain.
If he were ill, it was my fault, my doing.
I squeezed his hand tighter. "Relax, Edward." And for some unknown reason, I pushed forward and kissed his lips. A soft sweet kiss that only lasted a second but felt like ages.
Meeting his eyes, he looked a little shocked, but he said nothing as he squeeze my hand.
Another doctor entered and began the scan. She squirted gel across Edward chest and he shuddered. I guess that stuff really was cold after all. She prodded Edwards chest with the scanner, and instantly, the room filled with Edward's heartbeat.
I smiled down at him. So the Beast has a heart after all. Who knew?
Buttons were pressed. "Hmmm's" fell from her mouth, and all the time, the nerves in my stomach multiplied. God knows how Edward was feeling.
She seemed to focus on some part of his heart. Which part was anybody's guess. All I knew was that some little box kept being placed over the same area. Blue and red colours passed across the screen and with the calming patter of Edward's heart rate playing through the darkness in the room, I felt myself beginning to grow tired and slip onto Edward on the bed.
My head touched his. He looked up at me he was apologetic. He didn't need to be. Clearly there was something wrong with him. It wasn't a game.
"Lie up on the bed." He patted the small piece of mattress next to him.
The doctor gave out a cough, a warning cough. I smiled back at Edward and shook my head. "It's all right, I'm fine." I went back into leaning on him a little, his hand still in mine.
Sitting waiting for Dr. Ross to come back, I nervously twitched, anxious of what was going on. There was news from the scan. I was sure of it.
Edward had flitted in and out of consciousness. As I watched him, his lashes batted, fighting with exhaustion.
"Edward," Dr .Ross called as he walked in to the exam room "There were things found in both your X-ray and ultrasound. In the X-ray it showed that you appear to be suffering from a lower chest infection," Edward and I nodded.
Dr. Ross studied him for a moment. I felt my gut clench at the thought of what they had found.
What they had found wrong with his heart?
A/n: Ahhh and I leave it there. Sorry! Okay here is where you come in. Do you want a well beta'd version of the next chappy or do you want me to go thru it spotting my mistakes and trying to fix it and post?
I will ask the amazing Ozza to go over this and re-post but do you want me to continue putting up the rest of the story. I have rough drafts up to chappy 13! I thought I was more ahead, but I'm not :(
Let me know and let me know what you think of the chapter or ever just the story?