Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all recognizable characters, plots, etc. Only original content, characters, etc. belongs to author. No copyright infringement intended. Any errors contained herein, are expressly the fault of the authors idiocy, and not her betas.
Word Count:
A/N: Okay, well...I just have to say, I feel somewhat bad for rec'ing a fic that was apparently plagiarized. Even though it has nothing to do with—I didn't even know that this was the case until I received your reviews for the last chapter; I thought it had been a while since the last update—I still feel like I should apologize. Moving on.
I can't express enough my appreciation to V for betaing, and Char for helping me get it right an keeping me on track, but I will never stop trying.
This update is both later and earlier than I intended. Later because I didn't think it would take me this long to write, and earlier because my goal was to have it out no later than my birthday. I'm a few days early, so...go, me!
Thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing. Enjoy.
Chapter 11 – Do What You Have to Do
What ravages of spirit conjured this temptuous rage,
Created you a monster broken by the rules of love…
…and I have the sense to recognize that I don't know how to let you go
Every moment marked with apparitions of your soul
I'm ever swiftly moving trying to escape this desire
the yearning to be near you, I do what I have to do…
…a glowing ember burning hot, burning slow
Deep within I'm shaken by the violence of existing for only you
I know I can't be with you, I do what I have to do
…
…and I have sense to recognize I don't know how to let you go…
- Sarah McLachlan
~∞Ѿ∞~
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What the fuck did I just do? Bad, Bella! Very, very bad, Bella!
It should have never happened. What the fuck was wrong with me? I was with Jake; I couldn't go around kissing and dry-humping Edward Cullen against trees in the middle of the woods. How in the fuck had that happened, anyway? One second we were fighting, and the next…the next we were grinding against each other like our lives depended on it while trying to swallow each other's faces. I chuckled silently at the sudden image that came to mind, and then scolded myself because I shouldn't be laughing at a time like that. And because there was nothing funny about what had happened.
For a moment, I was transported back in time. Different tree, different circumstances, and completely different outcome, but we'd been there before.
Still, it should never have happened.
Either time.
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~∞Ѿ∞~
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I stared after him as he stormed off, and then sat there for several long minutes, speechless and numb, and still staring in the direction he had gone. And then, I got mad, righteously indignant. What the fuck did that mean – both of us haven't? How cocky can one man possibly be? I wondered to myself. Well, fuck him!
He was wrong. I'd moved on. I was over it. Over him. How dare he insinuate that I wasn't and then just walk away? Our conversation was so not over; he does not get to have the last Goddamn word every Goddamn time. Before I knew it, I was on my feet, chasing after him through the woods. He'd made it quite a ways in the nearly ten minutes I'd sat fuming in our meadow, but anger loaned me an agility and fleetness that I didn't normally possess, and I managed to cover quite a bit of ground.
I was sweaty and panting when I finally caught up to him, but at least I'd caught him before he'd left the seclusion of the woods. When I saw him, I didn't even think before I tore into him, taking out months of anger and doubt—at him, at me, at the situation—on him, like he was my personal whipping boy.
"What the fuck was that supposed to mean, Cullen?" I spat at his back, ignoring the defeat that rolled off him when he stopped, his already-slumped shoulders drooping even more.
"What was what supposed to mean, Bella?" he inquired tiredly.
Not even his dead-sounding voice and use of my first name could stop me—I was like a runaway train, only there was no Denzel to save the day. Instead, it fueled my rage; he wasn't playing by our established rules. (It may have been a few years, but neither of us had forgotten what they were…and we both knew it.) He still hadn't turned to face me, and something about it infuriated me. All of the feelings I'd been bottling up for who knows how long, began to rise like bubbles towards the lid that was my self-control.
I was aware how irrationally I was behaving—twisting his words to justify my long-ago assumed position that he was the one in the wrong, not me—but I couldn't seem to turn off the crazy. Getting angry was so much easier than admitting my role in the fucked-up situation we were in, or that Edward still wanted me, and I him.
No, that I loved him and he thought he did, I reminded myself. I couldn't be allowed to even fathom the possibility that Edward Cullen could really love me. I barely survived the first round of heartbreak, and I hadn't been under the delusion that he loved me; if I let myself think he loved me, there was no way I would survive a second round when he changed his mind. Besides, even if it were plausible, it just wasn't possible; Edward didn't fall for girls.
Well, I guess that wasn't true any longer, I corrected, thinking of the blonde Doctor Girlfriend that had shown up at dinner. He had to love her, because that's the only way I could ever see some girl getting the title 'Girlfriend'. It wasn't something he didn't do; it was just something he'd never done—obviously, um…hi, exhibit A, right here. Or, maybe…it was only something he didn't do with me. I shook my head. That was a path I didn't want to go down, and anyway, he was waiting for me to answer his question.
"You – implying that I haven't moved on because, for your information, I have and I'm very happy—the happiest I've ever been—so fuck you, you arrogant, cocky asshole!" I advanced on him as I shouted, jabbing his chest with two fingers every word or three for emphasis. With each poke, he retreated a step.
"You never really had me, anyway," I finished, my cheeks flushed with cold and self-righteous anger. Gloating—smiling internally over getting the words out, for not allowing myself to be sucked into his orbit—the realization that I'd just made a mistake came too late.
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~∞Ѿ∞~
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He'd always been dangerous, but just a few minutes in Edward Cullen's presence found me in a position I never intended to be: my back against a tree and his lips pressed to mine. Why had I chased him down, again? All of the diatribes against him, the cries to stop, to flee, being shouted by my head, ceased at the first brushing kiss. The weakness of my mind and my flighty, self-serving morals appalled me.
I shouldn't even have been there, shouldn't have gone traipsing off to the meadow when I had places to be, but everything had been happening so fast in the day and a half I'd been back, and it had started to become too much. I just…I needed a few minutes of peace. Just a few blessed moments with no one making any demands of me.
…I guess I'm lying to myself, it's just you and no one else; Lord, I won't miss you, child…
That's a lie. And why was I lying to myself after having already admitted why I'd gone to the meadow? I'd hoped…no, I'd known that Edward would come. Why I'd wanted him to, and what I'd thought would happen when he did… Well, I had ideas, but I didn't have any real answers for either of those questions. At least, not answers I was ready to admit to, but regardless, I hadn't been expecting what had happened. Not entirely. I mean, the things he'd said to me…the things he'd said to me had made my skin flush and heat roll through me, but it was wrong. I shouldn't have done that, shouldn't have felt that, I reminded myself, yet again, not when I had Jake.
…you've been blotting out my mind, fooling on my time…
And thank God, Jake had texted when he had. Otherwise, who knows how far…far too far, for sure…things would have gone?
…no, I won't miss you, baby, yeah…
Saying goodbye as tears pooled in my eyes, I'd rushed off so he wouldn't see me cry; he couldn't ever know how much walking away from him affected me. Now, stumbling my way half-blinded by the tears I refused to shed, towards the house—towards Jake—I tried to make sense of what had just happened. Of how I'd let it happen. I'd fucked up so badly in so many ways, and I didn't know what to do about it. So, not knowing how to act, I decided to simply pretend it hadn't happened.
What else could I do? I had just cheated on Jake, exactly as he'd feared I would, and I couldn't fucking tell him. Not a chance in hell; it would kill him, and he had enough on his plate as it was.
As awful as it sounded, I wasn't worried he would break up with me over it, because that wasn't who he was. Jake loved me too much to have self-preservation or clarity where I was concerned and, short of killing his father or something like that, could forgive me for anything. No, Jake would respond by being overly understanding, forgiving me like the good guy he was and then smothering me with attention, asking where we'd gone wrong, what he'd done to push me into another man's arms. You're not him, the only response I could give, and I couldn't imagine saying those words to him.
Instead, I'd lie or—and this was more likely—I would avoid answering him altogether, placating him with guilt sex, food, and over-attentiveness. For months, attempting to make up for my stupid indiscretion, that would be the routine. Over time, I would grow bitter and angry, and start feeling suffocated even though I'd know I was doing it to myself. Eventually, I'd grow to resent him and start dodging him, which would only make him the overly attentive one, which would get on my last nerve…and Jesus, can't a girl get a little time to herself!
Whoa! I needed to back the fuck up for a minute, and take a fucking chill pill. My imagination was working overtime and had me jumping to all sorts of conclusions. Maybe it was just my paranoia, but I could actually see it all play out exactly like that, ending with a contemptuous breakup, and dread filled my stomach, a forgotten conversation from long ago, coming back to haunt me.
.
~∞Ѿ∞~
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"What's going on with you and that boy, Izzy?"
I rolled my eyes, not caring if she could see me or not because it was this new thing she was doing, having told me that Bella just didn't fit me (thanks, Mother-dearest), Isabella was much too chichi (her words, not mine), but Izzy was just right. Personally, I thought it sounded vapid—Dizzy-Izzy—and that it rhymed too much with 'jizz'. I thought the real reason behind the moniker was that she didn't like being subjected to all of the 'aptly named' comments that were made every time I was introduced to anyone of the male persuasion; Renee never had been able to stomach not being the center of attention. But whatever, as annoying as it was, I just ignored it, refusing to allow her to get to me.
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~∞Ѿ∞~
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It had been spring break during my senior year of high school, the time I had been all but forced to go to Florida to work at…er, to attend-slash-host my mother's baby shower. As enticement, or perhaps just wanting another body to lug around trays of hors d'oeuvres and refresh drinks, she sent two tickets and told me to bring a friend. Instead of bringing a friend (because they had already made plans by the time Renee's last-minute 'invitation' arrived), I brought Edward. At Alice's insistence. And his own. At the time, I'd thought it meant something that Edward worried about me facing my mother alone. God, I had been so naïve.
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~∞Ѿ∞~
.
Renee was still staring at me, clearly waiting for a response. I was reluctant to answer, but knowing as I did that it would be far more damaging to allow her to draw her own conclusions, I had to.
"Nothing, Renee. We're just friends." Friends that just fucked on your pool table less than twelve hours ago.
"Just friends, huh?" she asked skeptically, cocking her head as she tried to read me. I played it cool.
"Just friends," I confirmed, rolling my eyes obviously as I feigned annoyance over her assumption, but inside I was slightly panicking, concerned that we weren't being nearly as discreet as I'd thought. Worried that if Renee had noticed something, Alice and the gang would, too—if they hadn't already—I wondered, "Why would you think we were more than that?"
"The way he watches you – it's so …protective. Like he's about to throw himself in front of a bullet to save you or something." A crease formed between her eyebrows as she struggled to put into words what she was thinking, and I held my breath, my stomach flipping just a little. He really looked at me that way, I wondered, thrilling a little at the thought.
The next second, though, my stomach dropped for another reason, as Renee abruptly brought me back to reality with just a shake of her head and a few sentences.
"It's so…intense. Strange, really. I don't know. I'm most likely reading more into it than what's actually there. I mean, if you say you're just friends, I believe you. Besides, he really is far too attractive to settle down with…" You. The word echoed in the silence as she paused. "…anyone, just yet. Still, you can't say you haven't thought about being with him once or twice. Hell, I've thought about it more than a few times since your arrival." She said the last part conspiratorially, with a little giggle and waggle of her eyebrows, and it took all I had to not huff in annoyance, and hide the revulsion the thought of her and him together caused me.
"We're just friends, Renee," I reaffirmed. Successful as I was at hiding my annoyance a moment before, I couldn't hide the hint of it or my disdain when I spoke.
"That's probably for the best, you know. Us Higginbotham women just aren't made for relationships, they never last. We're more of the 'love 'em and leave 'em' types – don't roll your eyes at me, Izzy. You'll learn one day what a waste of time it is, getting stars in your eyes over some pretty boy. I'm telling you this for your own good; it's better that you don't get your hopes up, especially over someone like him."
At first, I was appalled, unconsciously choosing to focus on how she—technically still a newlywed, her belly swollen with their first child—could say something like that? Shouldn't she be pro-love, considering? Did she even love Phil? However, a few seconds later, I was appalled for a different reason. It shouldn't have surprised me, my mother basically telling me not to expect to ever find love and, if I did, that it would never last, but somehow it did.
Still determined not to let her get to me, I brushed it off, telling her, "Good thing I'm a Swan then, huh?"
Leaving her with those words, I walked away to circulate amongst her shower guests, my tray of pigs-in-a-blanket, or some such rubbish, held high, just like my head.
Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch…
I spent much of the afternoon trying to live up to the disaffected front I'd put on for my mother, but (…marry, 'tis enough…) her words festered, infiltrating my mind and slowly poisoning it. When I couldn't take it any longer (Where is my page?), I sought out the one thing I knew could make it all go away: Edward. (Go, villain, fetch a surgeon.) Only, when I found him, I didn't feel better.
He was otherwise engaged, entertaining Renee's overly touchy-feely and botoxed 'friends'…turns out the fountain of youth could be found in Florida, if you called and scheduled an appointment first…and he didn't notice me slowly fading, withering as I was shown proof that what Renee had said was the truth.
Through sheer force of will, I was able to keep the smile on my face, but behind it, I was gritting my teeth from the effort. I had to look away. I needed to get away, but I had nowhere to go. Pretending that Edward wasn't there, I focused on getting through the party.
I did okay for a while, but an awkward encounter that only brought further proof of the fact that I didn't matter—was unlovable—was my breaking point. I felt as if I were about to fade away into nothingness or blow away like ash. I looked around frantically for Edward, not caring what he was doing or with whom…or whom he was doing…because I needed him to center me…by sticking it in my center…before I just disappeared, but he was nowhere in sight.
Neither was his most persistent admirer, I noticed, and it made me want to scream. The whole day—no, the whole fucking trip—was like some sort of great big mind-fuck and this was the grand finale. Even though I didn't want to believe Renee's words, they were getting harder and harder to deny, evidence quickly stacking up in support of it. I wasn't sure how much more I could take before I made a scene, giving Renee the satisfaction I'd promised myself I would deny her.
I felt someone press against my back—no doubt yet another of Phil's drunken, perverted teammates attempting, in their own classless way, to woo me into their arms…or at the least a quick suck and fuck in the bathroom before their wives noticed they were missing—and I almost lost it. But before I freak out and make a scene, I was wrapped in his arms and his scent, and I was overwhelmed by gratitude and relief. I collapsed against him, letting his arms hold me up because I just couldn't do it any longer. I still didn't know where he'd gone, what he'd been doing, or who he'd been with, but in the end, I still didn't care.
He pulled me to the side of the house, out of sight but still within earshot. While my mother opened up gifts for her new child—her only child as far as most of those in attendance knew, I'd discovered—a few feet from me, he made it all go away, he made me okay again, and I was able to through the rest of the day despite Renee's best efforts to break me. The next day we were on a plane back to Forks. I'd thanked him as we debarked, he'd nodded and we'd never spoken of it again.
.
~∞Ѿ∞~
.
I had always thought that that if I could just get through my childhood, and then later, if I could get through any encounter or conversation with Renee without breaking, then I'd be okay, but I had been wrong. If I'd learned anything over the years, it was about the insidious nature of Renee's words; the way they would worm themselves deep into my psyche —try as I might to deny them, to bar them entrance. Once there, they would lie dormant for years, until one day, when I least expected it, they would attack, echoing in my head and turning me from the confident, young woman that I pretended to be and back into the little girl I was; worthless and unworthy.
Today was one of those days. Only, instead of allowing her to break me down, I used her words as motivation. I refused to allow Renee dominion over my life any longer. I was going to prove her wrong. Once upon a time, I'd wanted nothing more than for Edward to be the one I'd find love with, and Renee might have been right about him, but I wasn't that same naïve, desperate to be loved little girl any longer.
I could never have Edward, and I wouldn't let him ruin the best shot at love I had. If I just worked at it, stopped dwelling on what could have been and focused on my reality, the here and now, Jake and I could be happy, we could have a chance at the bright future Renee said I'd never have. Jake and I were going to be fine, everything would be fine because nothing happened. Absolutely nothing happened.
I repeated the lie in my head like a mantra the rest of the way back to the house and then all the way to Jake's, hoping if I said it enough, I could convince myself it was true since I was still a shitty liar. I was so lost in reciting my self-assigned Act of Denial…O my Reality, I am heartily sorry for having to abandon Thee, I detest that you no longer conform to what I need to believe, but I am weak…that I startled when my phone buzzed in my pocket, stumbling and nearly falling over a stray…something in the middle of the trail.
I didn't have to look to know it was Jake, and I felt the annoyance I thought I'd pushed aside spike. He was acting like the world's biggest fucking nag. What was he, my fucking keeper? My father? I was dreading the fifth degree I already knew I would be receiving when I arrived, and I started to reconsider going. Hah! Yeah, 'cause that would go over real well.
If I thought the interrogation I was going to receive just for being a little late was bad, then the one I was sure to be given if I bailed on him entirely would be excruciating. It wasn't as if I was even that late, for fuck's sake! I stomped my feet as I silently shouted the thought, a frustrated growl rumbling from the back of my throat. I suddenly realized how ridiculous I was behaving—like a Goddamned spoiled teenager…possibly a toddler. Now, at twenty-five, when I hadn't behaved that way as a teenager...or as a toddler.
And furthermore, where did I get off acting like such a cunt (that's right, I said the c-word; I meant it, too) over my boyfriend's text interrupting me from dry-humping my ex…ex…fuck? My behavior was irrational, nonsensical, entirely unwarranted, and it needed to stop. The more I thought about it, the more I realized just how long I'd been acting in such a way, and that Jake had done nothing to deserve such treatment. He was my boyfriend and he was going through a difficult time; he needed my love and support, not my scorn and derision.
Another buzz from my phone reminded me that I had yet to reply to my warden, er…I meant boyfriend. What? It's hard to change ingrained behaviors on a whim, and so much easier to project your self-loathing onto others. I sighed and pulled it from my pocket, nearly dropping it when I saw what time it was. It was after ten. I could have sworn I had only left the house an hour or so ago, but more than two hours had passed. Fuck, Jake was going to be pissed, and I honestly couldn't blame him…especially considering what I'd been doing while I was supposed to be spending promised time with him…not that he would ever know.
I groaned and increased my pace as I quickly jotted out a response, knowing that I was taking my life into my hands by not paying attention while I practically jogged down the overgrown path. I could only hope that I wouldn't end up with a mouthful of dirt for my efforts. Oh, the things we do for love. Miraculously, I managed to get my text sent without taking a nosedive.
Sorry, got busy catching up with Alice's parents and time got away from me. Leaving now. Be there shortly. Xoxo, Bella
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~∞Ѿ∞~
.
"No, Jake, I'm not going to suck your dick since we can't have sex!" I'd lied, saying I was about to start my period in order to get out of having to fool around like I knew he'd want to. I just couldn't go there with him after what had almost happened with Edward…to say nothing of what had happened…er, not that anything happened.
"Jesus Christ, is that all you think about? Way to make a girl feel special, Jake. I feel like we have this same conversation all the fucking time! All you ever want to do with me is fuck." He started to say something, but wisely shut up when he saw the look on my face.
"I'm leaving. I have a long drive ahead of me, and I really don't feel like talking to you right now," I informed him as I crossed the room to stand in front of the mirror over his dresser, righting the clothing that had been disturbed by his pawing. Guilt was eating me up inside, and after what hadn't happened that morning, I was finding it harder than usual to maintain my self-righteous, indignant front. God, I was such a catch. No wonder I couldn't keep Edward. What in the world did Jake see in me?
I'd been relieved when I'd found Billy home, so certain I'd been that Jake would have found a way to get rid of him for the day so we could play. (Oh, jeeze, I'm a poet and didn't fucking know it. Cue the eye roll.) We'd hung out with him for a while, just chatting about this and that—I really liked the guy, and could easily see why Charlie and him had been friends for so long, his gregarious nature the perfect compliment to Charlie's quiet, taciturn one—but after a while, he'd unexpectedly announced that he was leaving. Jake couldn't have been happier.
His friend Harry was picking him up for a conveniently-scheduled meeting of the tribal elders. I wondered if he and Jake had planned it, conspiring together to get his son laid, but the thought made me cringe, so I dismissed it.
Sure enough, the second the door had shut behind his father, Jake had pounced, hands and lips all over me while his words reminded me of the promises I'd made the night before. Promises that I just couldn't keep now. I'm not sure how we ended up in his room. I was too busy fending off his wandering hands. It was there that I'd refused and, naturally, my refusal had started a fight because, "…it's been so long, baby. Don't you miss me like I missed you?"
"No, baby – I missed you, not the sex. Jesus, I just can't do this right now."
"Fucking Christ, Bella! It's been months; I would think you'd be a little bit more eager to reconnect. But, no – you keep acting like it's such an imposition, and what am I supposed to think about that?"
"I don't know, Jake! Think whatever the hell you want, but keep it to yourself, because this," I gestured between the two of us, "this fight, we're not doing it, not now. We're both pissed off and clearly not thinking with our…" my eyes flitted down to his obvious hard-on, and I started over, "Well, we're just not thinking rationally. One of us is going to say something they don't mean, and someone is going to get hurt. Let's just…not, okay?"
He nodded, albeit reluctantly, but still…it was acceptance.
"I'm going back to Seattle. I'll talk to you soon."
"Fine."
Thinking he was done, I started to walk away, only to be stopped by his voice. "Bella! Wait, please! I just…I… Well, I just want you to know that I do love you, and I did miss you – all of you. Don't go yet. I promise to stop being a dick…and to stop thinking with it." He smirked at me, but it was unsure and almost questioning, and my heart clenched a little. I hated hurting him.
Ultimately, it was the hesitance in his voice that disarmed me, causing me to pause. I turned and went to him, unable to leave things like that, with him aching and hurt. My lips met his—soft, timid, and sweet—once, twice, three times, before growing bolder. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, was the faint register of shock that I wasn't shying away from the physical contact—that I'd initiated it—but I didn't dwell on it; we needed this—he needed this—so I went with it.
There was no driving lust on my part, or overwhelming desire, just a need to comfort, seek a connection. Eventually, our kisses slowed and Jake just held me against him for several minutes before he pulled me to his bed, sat beside me with his arm around me, and we talked, stealing occasional kisses throughout.
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~∞Ѿ∞~
.
When I finally left Jake late that afternoon, I felt better about us. We worked some things out, deciding how we were going to make it work with me in Seattle and him in La Push, discussed his insecurities, my apparent insensitivity and tendency to freeze him out…
It wasn't always a pleasant conversation, but it was a necessary one. I didn't delude myself into thinking it would magically fix our problems—that would require communication and hard work on both our parts—but I thought we were well on our way, and it felt good. I felt happy. For the most part.
The next three weeks passed in a blur. I kept myself as busy as possible, trying to keep thoughts of him at bay. I was back to refusing to invoke his name, afraid he'd appear if I said or even thought it. I studied, ran various wedding errands, looked at apartment after apartment, went to both of the interviews I had scheduled while still in New York (I was offered the job as a junior editor at Bennett & Hastings Publishing pending the successful completion of my orals), and spent time with Jake and Charlie whenever I could. Sometimes I would drive out there, others they would come to the city but, more often than not, we'd meet in the middle, usually in Discovery Bay.
Much to my surprise, considering I was living with his sister, it was easy to pretend Edward didn't exist…at least, it should have been. He never came over, never called, and no one ever mentioned him in my presence. While it was a relief not to have him constantly shoved down my throat or always in front of me—no puns intended—it was also strangely unsettling. The longer I went without being presented evidence of his existence, the edgier and more keyed-up I grew.
I could only surmise that my ratcheting nervousness was caused by constantly waiting for Hurricane Edward to show up, bringing the stormy disruption to my life that only he could cause. However, I needn't have worried; I should have known that my run of luck wouldn't last forever. It never did.
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~∞Ѿ∞~
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I slammed my fist against the steering wheel, experiencing a minor bout of road rage. Totally warranted and justifiable, of course.
"Oh, you stupid, fucking cock-sucking asshole! Fuck!" I screamed at the jackass who had just cut me off, causing me to slam on my brakes and nearly be rear-ended by the car behind me. Just for good measure, I flipped the douche the bird and laid on my horn. All the better to properly convey my extreme displeasure, as well as assure it had been noted.
I was running late to meet Rose and Alice for a dress fitting, and they were going to kill me, I just wasn't sure which of them would attack first. With any luck, they would be too distracted by their battle for wedding planning dominance to dwell on my tardiness. Ever since Rose had assumed the planning responsibilities formerly held by Alice, the two of them had been passive-aggressively at each other's throats over which of them was better at it. Surprisingly, Rose had taken to it really well, but even more shocking was the fact that Alice had willingly acquiesced to being second in command. Not without a healthy amount of 'I wouldn't do it that way if I was you' and 'it's your wedding', of course, but overall, she was being quite gracious about it.
Aside from choosing the bridesmaid dresses—because Rose had no choice in the matter if she wanted to be live to be married; Alice wasn't about to suffer the indignity of wearing a less than spectacular dress—and giving her opinion, unsolicited or not, Alice wasn't calling the shots any longer.
Wrong choice. Before my first day experiencing Rose at the helm had even finished, I was wishing Alice were still in charge. Yes, she had some obsessive-compulsive tendencies when it came to planning events, but Rose put her micro-managing skills to shame. If Alice was the party-planning Nazi, then Rose was the Hitler of weddings. They definitely needed a new word for her; 'bridezilla' wasn't nearly strong enough. She made the owner of the limousine company—a forty-year-old man originally from the Bronx—, Geno had been convinced not to quit (Alice was amazing), even offering a discount as long as he didn't have to deal with Rose.
It goes without saying that Emmett had since been put in charge of all wedding transportation. I wasn't sure that was the best idea considering his general absentmindedness, but his hopes for getting laid on his honeymoon—or ever again, really—were riding on it, so everyone would be picked up at the right times and taken to the proper places without mishap. Probably.
I was only five minutes late when I finally found the address I had been texted earlier that afternoon, but by the time I found parking—nearly two blocks away—I was closer to twenty-five minutes late. My in-box was blowing up with texts from both Alice and Rose, so the moment I was parked, I yanked the keys out of the ignition and jumped out of the car. I hauled ass towards the shop to face their wrath, attempting to send Alice a text letting her know I was almost there as I ran.
Too busy compiling a list of excuses to pay attention to where I was going—got a flat tire, accident on the bridge (Which one? The floating one, Alice.), got pulled over…had to save a busload of children—I slammed, for the millionth time in my life, headfirst into a very firm, very male chest and ricocheted toward the ground. Making a rescue attempt, the Good Samaritan grabbed for me…just a moment…too…late… I was past the point of no return, my fall inevitable, but his hands had already latched onto me and he was pulled into the black hole of my clumsiness, overbalancing and tumbling with me.
Despite having gone out of his way to rescue me from my own clumsiness after I'd ploughed into him, only to be knocked down for his efforts, my would-be-hero still tried to save me. He turned us mid-air so that he landed on his back beneath me, taking the brunt of the impact and proving that chivalry wasn't dead. Sprawled awkwardly on top of him—half straddling his waist, legs akimbo, and one elbow jabbing his kidneys, causing him to grunt—I froze in horror with my eyes firmly closed, too embarrassed to look at him or even chance a glance.
I could hear that a small crowd had gathered to gawk, and it only deepened my mortification. My eyes involuntarily squeezed even more tightly shut. If I can't see them, they can't see me…right? Fuck, no. It hadn't been true when I was five, so there was no way in hell it was true now. Move it along, people, I found myself ordering, trying to convey the command telepathically, show's over; nothing to see here. It didn't work. E.S.P. I did not seem to have…but apparently, into Yoda I had turned. Not that it was a big a surprise to me, I'd suspected as much for years, but it would have been nice.
Mentally shaking my head since my muscles still refused to obey, I shifted my attention back to the situation at hand, wishing immediately that I hadn't as I realized that I'd been lying on top of him for just a beat—give or take a minute—too long to be considered acceptable. If possible, I stiffened further, but still made no move to…well, move.
I didn't have to look, but I knew I had to act soon, so I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart and ease the flow of adrenaline still pumping through my system. Intending to thank him or say something, I opened my mouth…but the words died on my lips as olfactory memory hit me hard.
Edward. Shit.
I was going to kill Alice—possibly Rose, too, but definitely Alice; Rose would have almost certainly told me had she known Edward would be there. I think. I'm pretty sure. She would have, wouldn't she?
Shit. Shitshitshitshit…shit. What do I do?
"Bella – as much as I like having your body pressed against mine, we really have to stop meeting this way."
As if I'd just been doused with bucket of ice water, his voice shocked me into action. My muscles sprang back to life all at once, all spastically, sending me flailing every which way as I scrambled to remove myself from his prone form. Getting nowhere fast, I finally just threw myself to the side before scrambling to my hands and knees, and then to my feet. It wasn't until after my demonstration of gracelessness personified that I remembered the lookie-loos, and gratitude rolled through me upon seeing that they had all but dispersed by then, having apparently lost interest in the lackluster spectacle we were offering. Surely someone, somewhere, can provide us with more entertainment; perhaps a car crash at which we could gawk. Jackasses.
"Well, maybe you should start watching where you're going, Cullen," I retorted…finally, snarling the words at him only after putting a safe distance between us.
Apparently, he found something amusing about what I said because he began to chuckle as he rolled to his knees and then got to his feet, groaning and 'oomphing' a bit along the way, as well. My heart was doing double time and a frisson rippled through me, making my stomach jump into my chest, flip, and then drop all the way down to my toes before returning and settling all back in to its usual spot. It was the same feeling I used to get when I was little, sitting in the backseat of the car while Renee sped up and down a hilly road, except instead of settling quietly after the first thrill, my stomach fluttered wildly. It wasn't something I wanted, feeling that way every time I was near him, and I refused to let him know.
My emotions were locked up, my arms crossed over my chest, barring their way. The spark that only his presence had ever ignited was obscured by my narrowed eyes, and the breathless excitement wanting to show itself with parted, upturned lips, was masked with a scowl and a look that clearly stated 'I'm not amused,' as I watched him rise. Standing to his full height, he rolled his shoulders, attempting to loosen his contused muscles, and a wince marred his pretty face. I cringed at the low sound of his hastily indrawn breath, my face falling, instantly contrite and completely abandoning the ice princess I was trying to convey.
"Shit, Edward," I bleated, hesitating for a moment, unable to decide whether to go to him or not. Ultimately, it was Edward running his hands through his hair and hissing as his fingers cautiously stroked down over the back of his head that decided it for me. I stumbled closer to him, concern written on my face, etched into the lines that appeared on my brow. "Are you okay? How much did I hurt you?"
And then, I was scolding him.
"Why didn't you just let nature take its course and let me fall? This is me we're talking about-you knew it was going to happen! But no, you had to go and try to be my hero, and look where that got you. Dammit, Edward, when will you learn that you're only going to get hurt when you try to rescue me?"
Hedidn't say a word or even acknowledge that he was listening, just shuddered as I moved around him, my hands trailing over him absently as I looked for any injuries.
"What were you thinking?" I continued to cluck at him repetitively, pausing every now and then to allow for responses I knew would never come…I was just trying to be polite. "It's not like it's the first time I've taken a spill, and we both know it's likely far from the last. What are you going to do, Cullen? Try to save me from them all? Not bloody likely."
"I'd never let you fall, not if I could help it," he declared softly, gazing down at me fiercely, trapping me with the intensity. I was caught off guard, totally unprepared to defend myself against him. My breath hitched and his words thundered through my ears. Nothing existed for me in that moment but him and me…us. It was cheesy and overwhelming and too much…
…'cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do, nothing to lose, and it's you and me and all other people, and I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you…
"Edward," I sighed as his hand lifted to my face, cupping my cheek. I leaned into his warm touch. There were so many things that needed to be said, all the truths that I'd been fighting since I'd fled all those months ago. The fears that I'd buried inside—but that, along with my stubbornness and inability to admit that I may have been wrong—still kept me from him. All my walls were crumbling with just one seemingly innocuous comment from him. Words and thoughts flooded my mouth, fighting to get out and creating a traffic jam in their haste.
…I'm tripping on words, you've got my head spinning, I don't know where to go from here…
My mind was all fogged over, deliciously drugged by him in exactly the same way it had always been, but this seemed heavier, more meaningful than any of our interactions in the past. His free hand cupped my other cheek so that he held my face between his palms, and then he oh-so-slowly lowered his face toward me, his eyes never breaking from mine. He's going to kiss me, I realized with sudden clarity, my head curiously haze-free.
The frightened, angry, and self-righteous voice that I'd been listening to since the moment Emmett revealed Edward's involvement with Tanya was screaming at me to put a stop to this, to not give in to his black magic, but it was growing tinier and tinnier by the second—maybe millisecond. His lips were so close and I wanted them…him…so much, that I just couldn't bring myself to pull away.
I licked my suddenly-dry lips and held my breath as my eyes fluttered closed. I could feel his breath against my mouth, and then I felt…his forehead press against mine? What the fuck? The instant he settled against me, he released a shaky breath, almost sagging against me in relief as all the tension—the weight he'd been carrying that I hadn't even realized he had been carrying, until then—lifted.
It happened in a matter of seconds, but it took me several seconds more of wide-eyed confusion to even begin to process it, let alone comprehend it. Edward's eyes were closed, the softest, sweetest of smiles on his face, and in repose like that, he looked less like the Greek god I'd always thought him to be, and more like an angel, one of the dominatio. The moment was so, so…much that I could no longer find it in me to regret that he wasn't kissing me.
In the periphery of my conscious, the tinkle of a bell rang out over the sound of a door opening—the weather stripping along the bottom catching on the ridges as it slid across the threshold made a distinct sound—and just like that, the moment was over, dissipating like so much smoke. Edward tensed, his entire body going rigid, alerting me that our momentary idyll was over, and I snapped back to reality, my shields instantly going back up.
Without saying a single word and only making the barest of shifts, Edward managed to put the entire gulf of the Pacific Ocean between us and exude a coldness that hadn't been there just seconds before, but his eyes – his eyes were wide open, in more ways than one, the dark jade baring his soul and pleading with me. Please don't leave me, don't close yourself off, don't shut us down. I'm still here with you; we just can't do this now. Not in front of her, not when we have obligations to others.
My eyes did some begging of their own, but my appeals were of a far different nature than his. Please understand why I can't do this. I'm not trying to lead you on; I just got caught in the moment and, for a second, confused my past with my present. That shouldn't have happened. I'm sorry.
"What's going on out here? Everything okay?" Alice. Her voice wary, questioning and concerned, and at the sound of it, I felt myself closing off to him a little more, that voice that had all but disappeared, coming in, loud and clear, in Dolby Digital Surround.
I took a step back and opened my mouth, prepared to say…something...but what?
"Bella happened," Edward answered for us, somehow managing to convey a wry amusement that doesn't match his face, while I'm still busy trying to fabricate a believable lie and a new mask behind which to hide. Luckily for me, Alice couldn't quite see me, yet.
To anyone who knew me less, his words wouldn't have made sense.
"Oh, yeah? How many did she take out this time?"
"Only two—herself and me. I gotta say though, I'd forgotten just how hard concrete is. With my Klutz-lympics teammate on the other side of the country, I haven't been practicing for the sidewalk events portion of the games; it's been a while since I've done a tandem reverse-belly-flop. I hate to admit it, but I think maybe I'm a little out of practice."
"Wow, admitting to not being good at something. Are you feeling okay? Sure you didn't injure something—like your head—when you hit the ground?"
"I said I was out of practice, I never said I wasn't good at it."
"Yeah, you're okay." I could hear her perk up before she zinged him with, "Maybe you're just getting old, y'know, and your body just can't bounce back from a hit the way it used to?"
"Alice, you do remember that you're the exact same age as me, right?"
"Nuh-uh, I'm younger."
"By a handful of minutes!"
"Yeah, so? That still makes me younger than you, dildo."
Their back and forth banter would normally have amused me—in the past, I might have even joined in—but just then, I was too caught up in observing the dichotomy of the two faces of Edward Cullen – how he was able to present two totally different selves to two separate people, simultaneously, so that they walked away with contradictory impressions.
I'd never understood how he had been able to participate in his arrangement with Tanya while carrying on with me as if nothing had changed, never wanting me less or fucking up more. Watching him lightheartedly joke with his sister—his body angled as if in the middle of turning to face her, giving the appearance of being in motion so that the she expects, at any moment, him to be facing her, but not moving and keeping his eyes on me—gave me insight into his duplicity. I still didn't understand how it was possible, it was so contrary to what I knew, I simply wasn't made that way. However, it did make it easier for me to pull completely away from him and re-fortify my ramparts; he couldn't be trusted.
My head was swimming with questions and thoughts of the games he could, and most likely was, trying to play, and I knew I had to stop the flow before I was swept away in the torrent. Was this all some ploy so he could once again have his cake and eat it, too? Was he playing the same old game, the one he'd already fooled me with…shame on me…wanting to fuck me while involved with someone else. He couldn't honestly believe, after everything that had happened between us, that I would to fall into the same trap, especially not when he was clearly taken, could he?
Stop!
Like ripping a Band-Aid off, I jerked myself away from his gaze and stepped around him. But, just as you can never pull one off fast enough for it to be entirely pain-free, I was unable to look away quickly enough to avoid seeing the emotion that washed over him. I simply pretended not to see the realization of failure strike him or his lack of surprise at it. I refused to acknowledge the exhaustion that seemed to overcome him, making him look older than his years, or the way his jaw set with grim acceptance as the light faded from his jaded jade eyes and then became empty.
"Ha, ha. You two just keep laughing at my expense, I'm going to go in and get fitted for whatever miserable excuse for a dress I'm going to be forced to wear. The things I do for my friends," I declared with a long-suffering sigh as I walked away from Edward and past Alice to enter the dress shop, hoping the entire time that my voice didn't sound as shaky as I felt. I refrained from making eye contact with Alice to find out if I succeeded, too afraid that I had failed.
The door closed behind me, no one else entering, and I began to worry, thinking up all of these random scenarios, all of them ending with me alone. Luckily, I wasn't given the chance to dwell on them. Rosalie swooped in almost before the door had closed, quickly herding me toward the back of the little shop.
"You, Isabella Swan, are late, and Suki has places to be. Now get in that dressing room, and strip," she ordered pushing me toward a tiny changing room in the corner, two sides of which comprised of a very thin curtain.
I hesitated, looking over my shoulder, trying to see Alice and Edward through the window of the door I'd entered, but the 'Open' sign blocked my view.
"Tick-tock, Bella, tick-tock. Could you please put a little 'giddy-up' in your step?" With one last glance at the front door, I allowed her to push me into what passed as the dressing room and pull the curtain closed around me. "Now, your dress is in the bag, shoes are on the floor, and there is a corset on the stool. Put them all on and then get your ass out here. Time's a wastin'."
"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" I said, with a half-assed, mock-salute that I wasn't certain she couldn't see.
"Talking's not changing," Rose snapped back, giving Alice a run for her bossy little britches. However, recognizing her 'do not fuck with me or I will end you' tone, I quickly set about my task, toeing off my shoes and then quickly slipping out of my clothes.
I had just managed to get myself into the corset when Rose's impatience got the best of her and, incidentally, me. She ripped open the curtain, huffing, "Aren't you finished yet? What could possibly be taking so long?"
At the exact same moment, the door's bell tolled, and I had a good idea for whom if the fine hair on my arms standing on end was any indication.
It was almost comical—at least, it would have been had it happened to anyone other than me. My head snapped up, lungs ceasing to function and eyes all deer-in-the-headlights wide as my hunch was proven right and Edward's face came into sight. He froze, one hand still on the door, the other stopped mid-swipe in his hair, and his jaw hanging loosely, mouth agape. The only part of him in motion were his eyes, running rapaciously over my barely and provocatively-clad form.
In my mind, I could see myself acting as I should—shrieking as I scrambled to hide behind curtain and then cursing both Rosalie and Edward out—while in reality, I did nothing but stare with what I am sure was a dumb expression on my face. I was too stunned to react, and the feel of his eyes roaming over my skin paired with the dumbstruck awe and lust in his eyes felt too good to deny. Even though I was mortified to be caught in such a state of undress, a small part of me basked in it, having missed being gazed at that way by him.
The fuckery only continued to worsen as Alice, just a couple steps behind Edward and fiddling with her phone, slammed into his statue-like form.
"Ouch! Edward, what the fu…?" Alice demanded, the question cutting off abruptly as she stepped out from behind him and took me in. Her eyes practically bugged out of her face, darting back and forth like a cartoon character between the Edward and Bella statuary decorating the room.
Finally, someone getting their wits about them while the rest of us continued to stand there with our heads up our asses, Rosalie snapped, "Oh, for fuck's sake, Edward, it's not like you haven't seen it before. Don't just stand there gawking – turn the fuck around! I know you're not one, but you could at least pretend to act like the gentleman Esme taught you to be."
Of course, she couldn't quit there, not without getting a barb in, but I chose to forgive her since it turned out to be just the impetus I needed to snap to attention.
"I doubt Charlotte – You remember her, right? Your girlfriend?" she prompted, taunting him, " – would appreciate you gawking at a half-clothed girl, especially not when that chickie happens to be our dear Isabella."
Alice grabbed her brother by the arm, hissing lowly at him as she used it to physically turn him away from me, and he finally snapped out of his daze. I had just enough time to see him cover his eyes with both hands…delayed reaction, much?...while muttering his apologies and shaking his head, before Rose rounded on me and snapped. Literally. Twice. In quick succession and right in front of my face, her fingers practically grazing my nose.
"And why are you still standing there? Dress. On. Now." With that, she pushed me further into the 'dressing room' by my shoulders, and then snatched the curtains closed around me once again.
In a numbing daze, my ears ringing with feedback, I removed the dress from the garment bag it was hanging in and dressed myself as quickly as I could with shaky fingers. When I finally, hesitantly, re-emerged from behind the curtain, Edward was nowhere in sight. A twinge of disappointment pricked me—I hadn't even heard the bell chime. No one offered any information, and I couldn't exactly ask about him, so I was left to ponder it, my overactive imagination running away with me. It was just one more thing to add to the long list of things over which to chastise myself about later.
Although I tried to keep my head in the game, I spent the rest of my fitting lost in my thoughts, running entirely on autopilot—I couldn't even recall what the dress looked like, despite wearing it in front of a three-way mirror for thirty minutes. I was barely aware of anything until I was suddenly sitting behind the wheel of my car again, unsure of how I got there, and staring at my phone as I contemplated calling him. I didn't know what I was doing or why. All the warning bells that were sounding, the months I had spent wanting to hate him; all the attempts at convincing of myself that I was committed to Jake, the countless times I'd told myself that I loved him, Edward was no good and he was the one for me – it all felt like I was fighting fate or some shit.
Oh, just grow a pair, Bella!
Finally, I took a deep breath, and hit send.
Songs Used
(In Order of Appearance):
Miss You, The Rolling Stones
You and Me, Lifehouse
Chapter Notes:
1. "The way he watches you- it's so …protective. Like he's about to throw himself in front of a bullet to save you or something." – Renee Dwyer, Chapter 3 of Eclipse
2. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough. Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon. – Mercutio, Act III, Scene 1, Romeo and Juliet
3. Bella's Act of Denial is a play on the Catholic Act of Contrition, a prayer said in association with confession, professing sorrow for sins committed. This is really an oversimplification, but really all you need to know for its use in this fic.
4. '…tinier and tinnier…' — (not a typo). tin·ny – adjective, -ni·er, -ni·est. 1. of or like tin. 2. containing tin
5. dominatio –the "Dominions," or the "Lordships" in the De Coelesti Hierarchia, are the first choir of the middle order of angels. They regulate the duties of lower angels, and also preside over nations. They rarely reveal themselves to humans, but they are believed to look like divinely beautiful humans with a pair of feathered wings, much like the common representation of angels, but they may be distinguished from other groups by wielding orbs of light fastened to the heads of their scepters or on the pommel of their swords.
Rec's:
The Caged Bird Sings, suzie55
Cracks in the Pavement, VampiresHaveLaws