Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.
I own Priestward and PottyMouthBella.
All plotlines, characterizations, and details in Bring On The Wonder belong to the author: Bronzehyperion. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without the author's authorization. ©2010 Bronzehyperion. All rights reserved worldwide.
This story is rated M for a reason. And there won't be lemon-y reasons for a while. Violence, swearing, religion being made fun of and criticized.
This story leans heavily on my BETA Parama. She does so much more than simply check my grammar. Without her this story would only be half as good.
NOTE: In the last chapter, Bella comments on Edward's priesthood. But…she doesn't know.
In chapter 4 Bella asks Angela about Edward working at the community center and Angela says he is a student, leaving Bella to assume Emmett (the other son) is the one who wants to be ordained as a priest. So…go back and re-read the edit. Since Bella has been around the community center and believes half of the Cullen family is "dabbling in Holy water" it's a little bit of creative freedom on my part to have her tease Edward about his religion (as opposed to becoming a priest since she doesn't know – Thanks RobsBeanie for pointing it out) given what she knows about his family. Plus, he proves her right anyway ;)
To be clear: Bella does not know about Edward wanting to become a priest. My bad, I apologize.
CHAPTER 10: SIX NIGHTS AND THE SEVENTH DAY
And God blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it: because that in it he had rested from all his work which God created and made
(Genesis 2:3)
The first night I visited Isabella in the hospital she threw a pillow at me by accident, for she had meant to throw it at someone else.
Nonetheless it had been the prelude to the way she had treated me since that night.
The night I had told her I wanted to be her friend.
The night I had tried to convince her to enter the Redemption Program.
Tried, because Bella's response had been less than encouraging.
Had she not been sedated she probably would have thrown a lot worse at me than the one pillow.
"Fuck you. *Fuck* you!"
That had been the one thing she had consistently thrown at me.
Curse words.
I had tried to soothe her, but that had only upset her more.
More "fuck yous" had been directed at me before a nurse had come in and advised me to leave.
The second night I went to visit her I was received with even less welcoming than the night before. I'd been lucky Angela was there to take some of the brunt for Bella was being unreasonable and very vocal about it.
"Get the fuck out!"
Angela had tried to calm her down, which had worked to some extent because she didn't yell anymore after I'd taken a seat on the worn out sofa at the end of the room.
Angela had engaged me in some small talk, while Bella had huffed and puffed to make her displeasure known.
The more I saw of her, the more I had a good chance to observe her. There were parts of her that had to be beyond broken. Parts she hid very well and only showed on the surface when she spouted her anger.
I supposed her…profession made it necessary to have a tough exterior. To pretend to feel nothing. To hide all the emotions she could possibly feel when men paid her only to claim her. Possess her, even if it was for a few moments.
Underneath the toughness, behind the high wall Bella had built around a core of vulnerability, there was something childlike about her. A certain innocence in the way she demanded attention with her cursing and vocalizing presence.
If there was a way to break down the walls; a way to get in touch with Bella's emotions, then maybe there was a way to help her.
"Hey, Edward."
It was my third night of visiting Bella and I ran into Angela outside Bella's hospital room.
"Angela, hi!" I smiled.
"How's the patient tonight?" I asked warily, hoping Bella was in a better mood than the previous nights.
"She's very tired. I am not sure if she wants to see anyone," Angela warned me. "Don't take it personal if she starts yelling again. That's how she gets sometimes."
"Thanks," I said.
"It's a very nice thing you are doing, Edward, visiting her." Angela said. "But Bella has difficulties with people being nice. It takes her out of her comfort zone."
I nodded. "I have noticed that."
Angela chuckled. "I heard she threw a pillow at you a few nights ago."
"And I keep coming back for more," I said, flashing Angela a small smile.
"Good luck," she offered me with a smile before she walked away.
I found Bella flipping through a magazine, barely registering its content as she scanned the pictures quickly before moving on to the next page.
"Good evening Bella," I said pleasantly.
She didn't look up.
"How do you feel?" I tried with a smile.
She didn't say a word.
I moved closer and sat down in the chair next to her bed. I noticed the IV was gone.
"No more IV?"
She continued to flip through the magazine without looking at me.
It was very obvious she was ignoring me.
I took a deep breath and fired another question at her.
"What are you reading?"
Instead of answering me, Bella tossed the magazine aside and turned on her side, facing away from me. She winced as the movement grazed her hip against the mattress.
A small curse expressing her discomfort escaped her lips.
"Fuck."
The small but odd cry of pain was enough to alarm me and I got up instantly, moving to the other side of the bed, searching Bella's eyes to see if she was alright.
The moment our eyes met – hers furious and mocking but laced with pain; mine worried and searching – I realized I had never felt actual immediate worry for anyone I barely knew.
I cared for other people's wellbeing because every human life was precious. I loved my parents and brother. I adored Rosalie; she was the sister I never had. I liked Alice and Jasper and wished them the best. Father Masen was like a mentor and I deeply respected him.
If anything would ever happen to any of these people I'd be alarmed. I would care, albeit in gradations.
Bella was not a part of this group and yet her cries of pain tugged at my heart and made me wish for the ability to take her ache away. It was an unnerving realization to find that she could affect me this way.
Our gazes held for one more second until Bella looked away, closing her eyes as she breathed deeply against the pain.
"Are you still on pain medication? Do you want me to get a nurse?"
Silence.
"Bella, please," I nearly begged. "You've got to give me something. Anything.
"I don't want you to be in pain."
She sighed and opened her eyes. The irritation was gone and replaced by visible exhaustion.
"Why the fuck do you keep coming here Edward?" she wondered angrily."I don't get it."
"I told you I wanted to be your friend," I reminded her as I adjusted the pillows that provided stability for her back and neck.
Bella huffed at that. "Please. You only want to fucking lecture me and try and get me to join this fucking cult you've been trying to force upon me."
I frowned at her curses and her assumption that the Redemption Program was a cult. It was a narrow-minded thing to believe. It seemed to fit Bella's personality and stubbornness though. Like Angela had said, Bella didn't respond well to kindness. She didn't allow herself to trust anyone or let anyone in.
"The Redemption Program is not a cult," I said firmly. "It's a respectable and qualified program to help people get their life in order.
"I want to help you." I whispered, leaning in close enough to feel her breath on my face.
Realizing how close I was and how strange that made me feel, I moved back to the foot of the bed.
Bella snorted. "Oh, now it all makes fucking sense.
"You want to help me…
"Well, here's the deal, Edward….
"…I don't need fucking help.
"So just fucking leave."
The fourth night wasn't much better. It seemed I was a glutton for punishment with the way I kept going back despite knowing Bella would curse at me, demand me to leave or simply ignore my presence.
I was surprised to find her sitting upright against the pillows for support, a smile on her face as she was laughing with Angela.
Unfortunately, the smile disappeared the moment she noticed me standing in the doorway.
"Edward!" Angela greeted me enthusiastically.
"Hello Angela," I smiled at her.
I gave Bella a small nod, to which she scowled, pursing her lips in a hard and disapproving line.
"You look better, Bella." I smiled.
Bella rolled her eyes but remained silent.
Angela gave me a helpless look. She seemed to feel very uncomfortable.
Throwing me a bone, she started chatting, probably hoping to break through the awkwardness.
"How about that weather, huh? I can't remember it ever being so cold in Seattle this time of year," Angela said."It's not even October."
I nodded, ignoring a snort coming from Bella. "Yes, for late-September it is quite cold. I think the temperature has even been below zero for a few nights. Not the type of weather to spend time outside…on the streets," I said pointedly, which earned me a deadly glare from Bella, while Angela looked very embarrassed.
"I…uh…I am going to get some coffee," she announced before she walked out of the room, leaving Bella and I in an tension filled aura of her anger and my guilt.
I wanted to say something, but Bella's murderous look prompted me to follow Angela out.
I found Angela a little farther down the hall, leaning against the wall next to an old and worn out coffee machine.
She was fumbling with money and when she dropped a few coins and picked them up in extreme frustration, I came to the rescue by putting some quarters in the slot and asking her what she wanted.
"What would you like?"
Angela smiled and pointed at the hot chocolate.
"That one, please."
A cup fell into a holder, filling itself automatically with rich brown liquid. When the cup was full I handed it to Angela.
"Here you go," I said.
"Thanks," she replied kindly.
I chose a black coffee for myself and suggested to Angela that we sit down in a pair of orange formica chairs next to the machine.
"I am sorry," I said in earnest as we sat down. "For what I said in there."
Angela gave me a sad smile. "Don't worry about it. You didn't say anything weird."
"I didn't mean to imply I know what it is like."
"Look, Edward. I'm sure it's no secret to you Bella and I have a very unconventional…career.
…but it is what we do," she added with a sigh.
"It doesn't have to be that way," I said with conviction.
Angela let out something between a snort and a sob. "No offence, Edward but you can't even begin to comprehend what our lives are like."
"I know," I admitted quietly. "I know I have no idea.
"But don't you ever wish for things to be different?" I countered.
Angela really snorted now."Of course I do. That's why I wish Bella would realize she has a chance to get out."
"And you?" I wondered. "Don't you deserve the same chance?"
"Perhaps I do. But Bella needs it more."
"Why?"
"She is on a path of self-destruction. Like complete atomic bomb self-destruction. It's just a matter of time until she ends up as the clichéd murdered or overdosed hooker."
I tried to grasp Angela's words. Really grasp them and let them sink in. Was Bella really doing that poorly?
While I believed Bella to be stronger and more put together than that I had no idea how much of her bravado was an act.
"Bella doesn't seem the type to harm herself. Not deliberately anyway."
Angela rolled her eyes, clearly indicating I was wrong in my assumption. "Do you know how she ended up here?"
I shook my head. "I know there was some sort of scuffle at Jasper's club. Bella got hurt because a customer didn't behave."
It sounded like a question because Jasper and Alice had been vague when explaining how Bella had ended up in the hospital.
Angela laughed bitterly. "Hmm, a non-behaving customer - I suppose that's the PG rated version of what happened."
"PG rated?" I wondered in surprise. "So what's the R rated version then?"
"Are you sure you want to know?"
I nodded, encouraging Angela to tell me.
Angela took a deep breath and fumbled with her hands.
"Please forgive me my crudeness, but there is no other way to say this."
"Say what?"
"Bella got fucked in the ass. Her attacker…he was a client. He wanted it rough and got his way, he…penetrated her from behind," Angela explained.
While I obviously had no sexual experience, I still knew what Angela's words meant and it was difficult to shake the images her words put in my head.
Bile rose up in my throat as I tried to shake the brutal vision of Bella being sexually assaulted. The idea she had willingly let someone do that to her.
"She…allowed that?" was all I could ask.
Angela shook her head. "No. While she was half out of it when it happened because she was high on pain medication she'd been mixing with alcohol…
… she definitely did not give consent."
I knew what that meant.
"She was raped."
On the fifth night, I entered Bella's room with determination. She could ignore me, throw random curse words at me or yell, I would not budge.
After what Angela had told me the night before, I had every intention to convince Bella to join the Redemption Program.
I entered her room, fully expecting a rebuff the way she usually did whenever I entered. I braced myself against pillows and glaring, against ignoring and yelling.
But I was met with silence.
Peace.
Quiet.
Bella was asleep.
I sat down on the sofa at the far end of the room.
Her face was beautiful without the mask of anger she wore when I was around. Her breathing filled the room with life and tranquility. The equal intakes of air were soothing. Proof that this girl was a living and breathing child of God, who just needed to see the light and accept the help that had been offered to her.
I could be that light.
If she was godsend for me; a test to see how deep my faith was and a trial to see if my compassion and light could guide those in desperate need of getting reacquainted with God – then I had to be godsend for her as well.
Looking at her as she slept, I found she was quite beautiful. I was no fool, I knew quite well society graded and objectified humans in terms of their physical appearance. I'd always tried to be objective about such trivialities, striving to find beauty inside people's souls, even if that was cheesy and presumptuous, as Emmett had once told me.
But Bella's beauty was inescapable. Without the painted on beauty of layers of make-up, the mask she hid behind as she invited men in between her thighs or pleasured them with her mouth – her face was ivory and porcelain. Her lips were a slight reddish pink and her hair was chocolate and auburn as the artificial light of the room made her locks glisten.
I shouldn't be focusing on such intimate details. I shouldn't be shallow and admit that her beauty was mesmerizing. That I could get lost in her eyes if I had the chance to stare into them for a while.
The truth was that I wasn't that guy. I wasn't the guy who could fall for her. I didn't have the capacity to fall for her. Her beauty, as striking as it was, didn't captivate me in the way it would a man who would want to give his heart to her. It wasn't supposed to be that way for me.
I had one purpose and one alone. Serve God to the best of my ability. It was His light that had me captivated. It was the beauty of His creations that took my breath away.
But then, wasn't Bella one of his creations too?
I pondered these questions as I watched her. Tonight could not be the night I'd push the issue of joining the Redemption Program because her slumber was too peaceful and too necessary to speed up the healing process to disturb.
I rose from my spot on the sofa, gave Bella one last glance before I turned to leave.
I made it as far as the door when her voice sounded from the bed.
"Edward…" she sighed.
There was no anger, no shouting. No curse words or demands for me to leave.
I turned and found Bella's eyes unopened.
Maybe I had imagined it.
"Edward…"
She must be dreaming, I thought to myself.
"Edward…stay."
A foreign feeling built inside me as I listened to Bella's mumbled pleas.
I couldn't find a name for it because it was something I had never felt before.
To hear her voice so gentle, the whisper of my name soft like a caress on her lips, it shifted something within me.
Up until that moment, I had wanted to be Bella's friend. Her godsend. I wanted to save her the way I had failed to save Jacob. I wanted to be worthy of His call.
Since that fateful day – the day I had lost my best friend and decided to devote my entire life to being His most loyal follower - I had tried to be a worthy son and brother, a good student and friend to the ones I was allowed to call the same.
I had turned from a boy who was taking wobbly steps towards an uncertain future to a man who was determined to become a priest and saw the future in all its clarity.
For the last ten years I had been the same Edward. The Edward who followed a straight path to his ultimate goal of serving God completely and unconditionally.
A man who had everything planned out. I would finish my studies and then go to Bishop White Seminary in Spokane to prepare for being ordained as a priest.
But now, as I looked at the fallen angel wrapped in the pristine and pure white sheets; a girl broken inside and out, I knew that I'd been terribly naïve.
Life wasn't black and white. Life couldn't be measured into perfect little squares that had been formed by rules made by church and men.
Matthew 16:26 popped into my head as I thought of what life should mean to me: "What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul?"
Had I gone about my faith the wrong way? Had my faith pushed me to create perfectly shaped, properly measured little squares that fit together into the puzzle that was the life I had believed to be right for me?
Had I lived by standards that would get me to my goal, namely becoming a priest, without fully acknowledging and absorbing the path and its road-bumps that would take me there?
Had I been forfeiting my soul?
I knew the verse meant something different than what it meant to me in that moment. But my father had always taught me that the Bible contained wisdom that could be interpreted in many ways as long as we didn't use the verses to excuse behavior or twist it to use it for selfish benefits.
I moved closer to Bella and once I was close enough, I moved the chair next to the bed and sat down.
As I lowered my head, made the sign of the Cross and then folded my hands, I silently prayed.
My Lord, my shepherd…I would never ask for anything but your light for me to bask in and your compassion in times I need mending. I'd never be selfish enough to ask you to save Bella. I am certain you have a plan for her and I would never want to question it.
I took a deep breath and unfolded my hands to take one of Bella's into mine before folding them back together. Touching her skin so intimately caused a spark to pulse through my arm. It felt like an electric shock that zapped me, pushing its way through my veins, straight to my heart.
The feeling was overwhelming but not uncomfortable. It felt like warmth and hope. Strength and faith. I believed the undeniable connection was God's way of telling me he was listening to my prayer.
Please, my God, please. I know it's selfish to beg for anything. To demand for Bella to come to her senses and turn her life around. I don't want to disappoint you or forsake my faith.
But I need to know how to be her friend. How to help her. My attempts have been fruitless. I anger her and I fear that she'll self-destruct if she doesn't turn her life around.
Give me faith my Lord. Let me be strong and fulfill my destiny. Let me be strong and carry Bella's burdens for her; let me be her shoulder.
Let me be strong enough to save her.
Like I didn't save Jacob.
I made another small sign of the Cross whilst naming the Trinity once more before I opened my eyes.
Amen, sounded in my head.
My eyes were met by deep brown pools that stared at me intently.
"What are you doing?" Bella whispered, her voice hoarse with sleep.
"I was praying," I said sheepishly.
"Oh…"
Bella stared at my hand which was still covering hers. She looked bewildered.
Uncertain.
Vulnerable.
Scared.
"Why?" she whispered, still staring at our hands.
"Because I needed strength."
Bella stared up, her eyes meeting mine. The vulnerability I'd seen for a moment was replaced by the bravado she liked to hide behind.
"Why the fuck are you holding my hand?" she said icily.
I let go of her hand before she could pull away, murmuring a quiet apology.
"You're a stalker," Bella muttered. "I told you to stay away a billion fucking times and you simply don't fucking listen."
"I can't stay away."
My voice sounded very loud in the silence of the room.
"Why?" Bella asked again. "You don't even know me."
"I know," I acknowledged.
"But I'd like to get to know you. Be a friend. Help you." I said sincerely.
Bella eyed me carefully and then she sighed.
"I am sure you mean well in your own warped mind. You are kind of like Angela. Always loyal and so fucking nice."
And Bella had a problem with nice people, as Angela had said.
"Angela seems to be a great friend."
Bella nodded. "She is.
"A much better friend to me than I am to her."
"I don't believe that."
"No, it's fucking true. The thing is: Angela is sick, like really fucking sick. She has HIV and takes a butt load of pills every day to function. I think that's why she does this…stuff, because she has huge medical expenses."
I was shocked by the revelation. Dumbfounded.
"I didn't know," I mumbled like an idiot. I'd noticed how Angela always looked tired and strained. Never could I have guessed that she was so ill.
"Duh," Bella snorted. "Of course you didn't know. How the fuck could you have known?
"Anyway, my point was…she is sick and yet she treats people fair. She could blame the fucking world for it but she doesn't. She makes the most out of what she's got and the shit she's been given to deal with. She never blames others. She is completely selfless."
"I see," I said. I had to agree with that statement based on what I had seen of Angela in the past few days. No matter how tired she had looked or felt, she had been there for Bella 100%, never missing a visit, always trying to make Bella feel better.
"Angela is like a fucking saint. A saint who is forced to live the same fucked up life I do."
"I am sorry if I offended either of you with my comment about spending time on the streets the other day. I apologized to Angela."
Bella nodded. "Yeah, she told me."
I noticed the shift in our rapport. It was kinder, more familiar. At least Bella wasn't shouting at me.
She was opening up a little. And maybe it was just for a moment but I still seized the opportunity to try and really talk to her.
"Can I ask you something?" I started carefully.
Bella shrugged passively. "If I tell you no you'll just bug me until I say yes."
"Why are you so against joining the Redemption Program?"
Bella rolled her eyes, disapproval evident on her face.
"I told you…it's a fucking cult."
I shook my head. "And I told you…it isn't."
"Of course you'd fucking believe that. Saying something isn't what it seems usually means it is the opposite," Bella muttered.
"It is not a cult. No scary rituals or dancing around fires," I teased, surprised I managed to. The smile playing on my lips lasted a second as Bella eyed me skeptically. Clearly she didn't appreciate it.
"It's a sponsored program, Bella. It can really help you." I told her sincerely.
"I told you I don't need fucking help," she spat.
"Besides, it wouldn't be fucking fair," she added, less angrily.
I frowned. "Why would it be unfair?"
"Have you not been listening?" Bella muttered, her voice going up an octave again.
Apparently I hadn't, because I had no idea what she meant.
"Angela is in the same situation as me and she is a much much better person than I am." Bella practically yelled.
"She is fucking sick and only does this shit because it is the easiest way to make money, even if it is the shit that got her sick in the first place.
"She is a fucking champ and I am the one who gets offered a way out?"
"Wait," I said, understanding dawning on me. "You think she deserves it more?"
Bella softly slapped her own forehead before smacking my shoulder.
"Obviously, genius."
"Wow," I whispered.
"Wow?"
I gave Bella a smile. "You do realize that by acknowledging that, it makes you pretty selfless too."
"I am not selfless," she countered angrily. "I am not like Angela."
"But you do believe she needs a chance at a better life more than you do?"
"So? Anyone who has met both Angela and I would believe the same."
"But would you want to subject your friend to a cult?" I teased.
Bella gave me an irritated look before she spoke. "Angela would fit in, I wouldn't."
"And you believe you don't deserve it," I added.
"I don't."
"I think you do."
"I don't care what you think."
"I know," I said, hoping at some point she would at least care a little.
"But what about Angela?"
"What about her?" Bella asked curiously.
"She wants you to have a better life. Because, like you said, she is selfless. And you want the same for her."
"I do," Bella nodded.
"So would you join the program if she did?"
"No," Bella answered instantly.
"Why not?" I wondered.
"Because saints deserve to be saved. If you fucking insist on helping someone, help Angela."
"There are two spots left in the program," I hinted.
"Give one to Angela and someone else who wants to be saved," Bella said before she yawned and nestled back into the pillows. Her eyes were fluttering; she could barely keep them open as exhaustion washed over her.
"I better go. You need rest." I said with a smile.
Bella nodded. "Yeah."
I got up from my seat and walked to the door.
"Edward," Bella called.
I turned to face her.
"Yes?"
"Good night."
"Good night, Bella."
I watched her as she closed her eyes.
"Bella?" I whispered.
"Hmm," she mumbled.
"What about fallen angels…"
"Hmm…"
"Don't they deserve to be saved too?"
The sixth night I visited the hospital I found an empty bed.
As it turned out Bella had been released earlier in the day.
I stopped by the hospital chapel on my way out and prayed for Bella, knowing she had gone back to the life that was tearing her apart.
Physically and emotionally.
On the seventh day I went back to living my own life. I'd tried for a week. A long week where I had done everything I could to get Bella to join the Redemption Program. A week where I had foolishly hoped I'd be able to get through to her and make her see that there was a way out.
It had all been in vain.
I'd deluded myself into thinking she'd accept any kind of help.
But Bella was probably not able to.
During the day I busied myself with classes and in the evening I had dinner with Emmett and Rosalie.
At the table, they had a heated discussion about the sex of their unborn child.
"It's going to be a boy, Rose," Emmett claimed with certainty.
Rosalie gave him a pointed look and then rubbed her belly.
"50 percent, Emmett. And if it is a boy, we are not naming him Shaquille."
I chuckled at the name, for Emmett had been a huge Shaquille O'Neal fan as a teenager.
"Baby, it's a great name because it belonged to the greatest athlete of all time."
"Emmett you do realize your child will be white right?" Rosalie snorted.
"Doesn't mean he won't be a great basketball player, right Eddie?"
I rolled my eyes at the nickname because I didn't like to be called Eddie. Not just because it sounded like I was five years old but also because that's what Jacob used to call me. The name belonged to long lost memories of playful days with a childhood friend who would never come back.
"My name is Edward. And I think the most important thing is that your child will be healthy when it's born. That the baby and Rosalie will make it through the delivery without complications."
Now it was Emmett's turn to roll his eyes. "Spare me the clichés little brother. Of course I want my child and Rose to be healthy. Doesn't mean I can't dream a little."
"A little?" Rosalie scoffed. "We don't even know the sex yet and you are already 'dreaming'" – she air quoted – "impossible dreams."
"That's why they're called dreams, baby."
After that Emmett talked about the business and Rosalie shared her joy about teaching her third grade class at West Seattle Elementary school.
After they updated me on their lives, they asked about mine.
"How's the student life, Edd…ward..." Emmett wondered. "Plenty of sorority girls lining up for ya, I bet" he teased.
He knew how to push my buttons, even if he was just teasing me. Emmett was perfectly aware of my celibacy.
My virginity.
"Emmett," Rosalie chided him. "Don't embarrass your brother."
"When I was in college I let my eyes wander," Emmett muttered.
"That was three years ago and I didn't appreciate it," Rosalie pointed out.
"Babe, you know you're my world," Emmett said sweetly.
"Nice save, Emm," she said as she smacked his shoulder the way Bella had done a few days before.
Bella.
I wondered what she was doing right now. If she was already back on the streets. While I hoped she would allow her body to rest a little while longer, Bella was possibly stubborn enough to pretend she was fine and go back to…work.
I felt depressed at the idea that my attempts to try and help her had been pointless.
"Esme told me you signed up to be a buddy in the Redemption Program." Rosalie said, pulling me from my thoughts.
I nodded.
"That's really wonderful. The program has done a lot of good from what I have heard."
"I suppose," I said wryly.
"You're not happy about it?" Rosalie asked, puzzled by my lackluster reaction.
I sighed, rubbing my face before my hands found their way into my disheveled hair.
"The person I am supposed to help doesn't want to join the program."
Rosalie smiled in understanding. "Not everyone accepts help. Some people aren't capable of it."
"This girl thinks she doesn't need it nor deserves it," I said.
"Is she in denial about her problems?" Rosalie asked.
I shook my head. Bella wasn't exactly in denial about her problems. She was in denial about needing help.
"She won't accept help."
"If that's the case you might be wasting your time…
…maybe the program needs to find a different participant." Rosalie suggested.
"Someone who really wants it."
I remained silent as I let Rosalie's words sink in, admitting to myself that she was probably right. Bella didn't want help.
I had to accept that.
"Edward," Rosalie called. "Are you alright?"
"Yes." I smiled. "I am sorry, I was just thinking."
"About this girl," Emmett said suggestively.
I rolled my eyes at his assumption. "About the help she needs, Emmett."
"Sure, sure," He grinned.
"Well," Rosalie interjected. "If you have tried to get this girl to join and she still refuses then it is her loss."
Rosalie was right. It would be Bella's loss.
But the price of losing would be very high.
"How'd you meet this girl anyway?" Emmett asked, curiosity burning in his voice.
"She visits the community center sometimes."
"What does she look like?" Rosalie wondered. "Maybe I have seen her."
"She doesn't visit often," I said, evading the question. I was not ready to share any details with them.
"Why would she have to join anyway?" Emmett asked. "What's her poison?"
He assumed substance abuse though I was quite certain this was not the case with Bella. She was too smart to be an addict. She was just too stubborn and too closed off to believe she deserved to be saved.
Maybe that was her poison.
"She is just very self destructive."
"A cutter?" he guessed.
"No."
"Pill popper?"
I sighed. "No, Emmett."
"Kinky sex?" He grinned.
I blanched at Emmett's suggestion, which my usually so unobservant brother now picked up on.
Rosalie noticed my embarrassment and interrupted the guessing game to ask if we wanted coffee. Emmett and I accepted and moved to the sitting room.
I hoped Emmett would have forgotten about Bella but he hadn't.
"So she does like kinky sex?"
"I very much doubt she likes it," I mumbled.
Emmett caught what I said and I could see realization dawning on him slowly.
"She's a…prostitute?" Emmett asked in disbelief. "Dude, that's…pretty messed up.
"I mean, she is a hooker. And you know nothing about sex," he said, completely serious.
"Emmett," I warned.
"No, bro. Get real here. How would you be able to help this girl? You two are completely different. It'd be like having Michael Phelps coach the Sonics."
Of course, Emmett would use a sports metaphor to make sense of it all.
"Look Emmett, let's just drop it. It doesn't matter who she is. What's important is that she needs help but keeps declining it." I muttered.
Emmett dropped the subject for a second but it was quickly revisited when Rosalie came into the living room to serve us coffee.
"Edward wants to help a hooker," he said without hesitation, causing my cheeks to flush with fresh embarrassment.
Rosalie's eyes widened for a moment before she regained her composure.
"The girl…she…is a prostitute?"
I nodded weakly.
"Wow, that's…intense."
Intense was certainly an understatement.
"What's her name?" Rosalie asked as she handed me a large mug of steaming coffee.
"Whose name?"
"The girl. The one who won't enter the Redemption Program."
"The hooker," Emmett clarified which earned him another smack against the shoulder from Rosalie.
"Isabella."
"Isabella. That's a pretty name. I bet she is a pretty girl," Rosalie said.
"I suppose she is." I said quietly.
"She means something to you," Rosalie observed as she flashed me a gentle smile.
"Huh?"
"There's something in your eyes. Something new."
Emmett nodded.
"Rose is right."
"I don't know her that well."
"And yet you seem consumed by her," Rosalie pointed out.
Emmett chimed in.
"I haven't seen that look in your eyes in a long time.
"In fact maybe never."
On the seventh night after dinner with Rosalie and Emmett I found myself in front of the community center. The spot where I had first met Bella.
Where I had first commented on her clothing, unbeknownst to what they represented.
If only I had known. If only I would have been able to make a difference.
But Bella was relentless and stubborn. And I didn't know her well enough to get through to her.
It had been an illusion to believe visiting her in the hospital every night would make a difference. Angela had been right. I could not comprehend the life she and Bella lived and what they had to do to get by.
I'd been a fool to think I could have changed that.
And so I found myself standing there to do what Rosalie and even Bella had advised me.
Allow Alice to find someone who did in fact want to turn their life around.
I stood there with a heavy heart, feeling like a failure.
The inability to save Bella and the prospect of what this meant for her...It was the story of Jacob all over again.
Bella was the fallen angel whose wings I could not mend.
"You know…
… It's not the type of weather to spend time outside…on the fucking streets."
A/N:
- "Small Sign of the Cross" a small cross is traced with the thumb over the forehead, lips, and breast of the individual while whispering the words "May Christ's words be in my mind, on my lips, and in my heart.
Catholics should begin and end their prayers with the Sign of the Cross and should cross themselves when passing a church to honor Jesus in the Tabernacle, upon entering a church, and after receiving Communion. The sign is made, too, in times of trouble or fear (e.g., when receiving bad news, in times of temptation, when hearing an ambulance or fire truck go by), when passing a cemetery or otherwise recalling the dead, when seeing a Crucifix - any time one wishes to honor and invoke God, or ward away evil, fear, and temptation.
- www(dot)bishopwhiteseminary(dot)com reference to the seminary Edward mentioned.
- Michael Phelps is an American Swimmer, who won a butt load of championships and Gold medals.
- Special shout out to Mamasutra who has rec'd BoTW in her story "Perhaps Not To be" check out her stories: fanfiction.(dot)net/u/1861264/mamasutra
- MrsEdwardCullenP asked for Bella and Edward's age. I'll give the ones of the most important characters.
Edward: 23 (Turned 23 in June – slight 3 months older than Bella)
Bella: 23 (Turned 23 on the day she ended up in jail)
Angela: 26
Alice: 27, Jasper: 28
Rosalie and Emmett are both 24
Carlisle and Esme are both 48 (Married 26 years, Emmett was born in their 2nd year of marriage, Edward a year after)
Father Masen: 66
Father Banner: 76
**As always I thank everyone for their support and the time they take to review. Even if you don't review and just read, I thank you and hope you enjoy the story so far. :)