Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, but Scholarward can come over to my house any time for a spanking.
I hope you haven't been waiting too long for this one. I should go update Ancient and Divine next. I have writer's block with Prude and Prejudice at the moment and it's bugging me .
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Shout out to: Cydney94 for being the only one to review my newest chapter of Essenza Del Lupo ^.^ To all my lovely reviewers from last chapter demanding I have a brain transplant for pulling a stunt like that. Sorry guys ^.^
I would just like to dedicate this small chapter to CitizenCullen25.
I love you're courage.
When you try your best but you don't succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
could it be worse?
Lights will guide you home
and ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
Coldplay- Fix You
He turned his eyes on me then and that's when I got it.
He stared at me with narrowed eyes, brow furrowed and mouth slack.
"W-who are you?" he asked, mystified.
He doesn't know me.
He doesn't know me.
"Edward?" Esme murmured, shocked.
She shared a horrified glance with her husband over her shoulder and placed her hand to his forehead, gaining his confused gaze.
"Honey? Don't you remember Bella?" her lip was trembling and I saw how her heart broke for me and her son.
I stared at his face, the jade green eyes that did not light up with recognition upon sighting me.
And I felt a little part of me snap.
I clutched my bulging stomach, a reminder that everything did happen.
Like and anchor, my baby kept me from losing it. She stopped me from floating away from land.
Eyes glazed, Edward shifted his eyes back to mine. Nothing had changed once she uttered my name, just a frustrated befuddlement took possession of his expression. He was trying, attempting to retrieve his lost memories but he couldn't because his face calmed and he shook his head, still lost.
"I don't."
I choked a sob, turning my head away as his eyes snapped to mine, shocked to find the stranger in his room crying.
"Should I?" His voice uncertain and concerned.
They stayed silent. I had my palm cupped over my mouth, holding back the swarm of grief that was rapidly taking over my heart. So, I hadn't lost him, in the physical sense. His body remained, alert and alive. It was just our lives that we lost; our connection, our bond and our memories.
They only existed in my own mind. And it was so infinitely sad, that Carlisle came up behind me and grasped my weak hands to guide me to an arm chair. I tried to gather myself up and turn a dignified face back to my fiancee, but I couldn't lift my head.
They spoke weakly to eachother.
At least he remembered them.
"Where's Tanya?" he asked conversationally.
That woke me up from my anguished haze.
"What?" I croaked.
I stared accusingly at the Cullens; like they were to blame, but of course they weren't. I just looked to them for an explanation.
"Honey," Esme began with a voice as thick as honey.
She glanced surreptitiously at me before she ventured on.
"Honey you broke up with Tanya in 2007," she informed him softly.
He stared at her, disbelief evident in his shaken form. He looked upset about it.
"Then why can't I remember?" he demanded, his ears going red.
"Edward, son--what is the last thing you remember?" Carlisle asked cautiously, the question on the tip of everyone's tongue but what remained unsaid before now.
He was frowning at his parents and ignoring me. After all; I was a nobody to him. Like someone had injected an acid into my veins, everything inside me sizzled and dissipated, leaving room for an empty numbness. A helplessness.
Crying profusely and quietly, I was still maintaining attention in his answer.
"I-" he frowned hard, concentrating.
His eyes were heavy and circled with dark rings. He was tired and puzzled. There was a strange woman in his hospital room; me. And he didn't know what year it was.
Another chunk of my heart shattered for him.
"I was moving out," he mumbled cautiously, waiting for a rebuttle.
He reminded me of a lost child. He was scared.
"I just got a job offer, a regional area in Washington...? With Alice's school." his eyes were wide and glassy.
"Forks?" he asked.
My heart leapt; maybe he wasn't as far from my Edward as I thought.
"Where am I?" He wondered suddenly, glancing between his parents, my presence still forgotten or unimportant to him at this point.
I swallowed my pain like a dry pill.
"You're in Seattle, sweetheart." Esme smiled and I noticed glistening tear tracks running down her rosy cheeks.
Carlisle squeezed her shoulder while they both stayed enraptured with their son. Esme hugged her lavender cardigan closer.
"What? No, I've just finished college...we were having a graduation party at your lake house in Vermont..." he registered Esme weeping into her hand and Carlisle letting his eyes fall grimly to his feet.
"That was three years ago," Carlisle told him.
Edward didn't say anything, his face a mask of terror.
"What?" still not understanding.
"You were in an..." Carlisle began, glanced apologetically at me, Edward followed his gaze. "...an accident."
It sounded less malevolent coming from Carlisle, the sympathetic doctor. He had to deliver news such as this to people on a daily basis. He was experienced in the field.
"It's 2010, Edward. You're twenty-seven, you live in Seattle and you work as a Lit Professor at the University."
Why was he missing out all the vital information?
"Edward." he leaned closer and Edward seemed extremely upset by his lack of recollection. So many imporant points in his life; gone, evaporated or locked away to somewhere he couldn't reach.
"You have a finacee and you're about to be a Father." he breathed, stressing those two major facts.
Carlisle inclined his head in my direction and Edward, once again, frowned uselessly at me.
I dropped my face into my hands and let the tears consume me.
"You don't remember anything about her? Bella Swan?" Carlisle pressed, anxious as I was to make him remember.
The lights, dim and artifical felt cold against the pastel blue and green paint on the walls. I felt so bare and vulnerable under them. I lifted my eyes to stare absently at them as I took stock of the horror that had become.
Shoulders hunched and shaking, I was afraid the love of my life would never find his way back to me.
He was there, right there in that bed; but it wasn't him. He was there, in some form, but how was I supposed to salvage him?
I scavanged enough courage to stare back at his imploring scrutiny. I took a long, shaky breath and tried to use my legs. They were unstable and weak, but I soldiered on through the next four feet to stand by his bed.
His eyes never left mine, but there still remained that emptiness of thought. The space where our lives belonged that was unable to surface in his mind.
He watched me move closer with a guarded expression, treating me exactly like someone would treat a person they just met. I was acting too personal, like we knew each other, because we did, but he doesn't. At least not anymore.
With a sniffle and a furtive glance at Esme and Carlisle, I rested both my hands on the plastic rail of Edward's bed.
A large lump in my throat and a piercing fear through my chest, I looked down at him.
"I'm Bella," I said, trying to raise my voice loud enough for him to hear it.
"We met..." I glanced, shamefully, at his parents.
I met their eyes and felt the colour rise in my cheeks. I never really knew how they felt about the circumstances in which we met; I know Edward had confided in them, also in Alice (accidentally) and that they still gave him their blessing. They just didn't know we had engaged in a relationship while I was still in school, under his care.
"Um, can we have a moment?" I requested in a small voice, confidence out the window.
I heard their shuffled footsteps move away and out the door, it clicked softly behind them leaving a thick silence.
"I'm--I mean you're...?" he rocked his head from side to side.
"Yes," I mumbled.
He moved his hands higher beside him and tried to push himself into a sitting position.
"Wait, let me help you--"
"I'm fine." he snapped.
I recoiled. He may as well have slapped me. I bit my lip and averted my gaze long enough to keep more tears falling.
I sucked in a breath and returned.
"I'm-I'm so...lost," he whispered, straightening his back and resting against his pillows.
"We met at Forks High," I began, my mouth suddenly bone dry and my muscles aching with the effort.
"You were hired as an English teacher there..." I felt like I was admitting to some crime, which I suppose it was.
But I wasn't so used to being afraid of how Edward would judge me for what we'd done. He'd never been disgusted by it before; what would his reaction be if I told him?
"I-I was your...your student." I finished and ducked my head.
I chanced a peek up into his blank face and I don't know whether I was relieved there was no reaction or even more in agony that he remained indifferent about it.
"Oh." Was all that escaped his mouth.
He looked pale and shaken but unfortunately, our privacy was short-lived.
"Ah, Mr. Cullen. You've finally joined the world again." Doctor Gerandy strolled in and plucked the clip board from the end of the cot.
"How are you feeling?" he inquired, poking the paperwork with a ballpoint pen he acquired from his breast bocket.
"I feel like shit is how I feel. What the hell happened to me?" he gritted his teeth as the doctor gingerly probed his skull.
I winced along with him, feeling every jab a thousand times worse. I was close to tears again.
"Are-are you alright?" he asked me as the doctor took his hands back and noted his inventory.
I shook my head.
He threw me another bemused glance before continuing his exchange with Dr. Gerandy.
"Can I see you outside?" I asked him.
He nodded at Edward and gently took my elbow, leading me into the virtually empty corridor. I wheeled around and sprung on him, incredulous and panicked.
"He doesn't remember!" I cried.
"He doesn't know me! He doesn't recall the last three years of his life! What's happened to him?" I demanded in a rush, my breathing erratic and my heart pounding so loud I'd bet he could hear it himself.
"Mrs. Cullen, please calm down," he urged and that just made it worse.
He called me by Edward's surname. I didn't even know if that future was possible for us now. He had a hold of my forearms while I gripped his like my life depended on it. I was close to collapsing with the weight of everything.
"His memory loss isn't just about the bullet wound he obtained in the incident. He's going through a severe psychological disturbance and that is what is preventing him from processing previous events."
"You mean the last three years?" I hissed, angry.
"He's been through so much, as have you--we can't push the process." he gave me a very 'Carlisle' look.
"What happens now?" I whimpered hoplessly.
He watched me carefully.
"Only time will tell."
"The bathroom is an ensuite into our..." I took a steadying breath, reminding myself that he would no longer call it our bedroom.
"Into the bedroom." I corrected with a bite to my tongue.
I had my arms cradling my stomach as Edward surveyed our apartment. Curious and distant, he scanned over everything with a look of cold withdrawal--the items and trinkets that would usually hold value for him, me, or the both of us, he just glanced at.
He didn't feel anything new.
The only progress he'd made in the past week was remembering the day he left home for Forks. He still couldn't recall me at all, the day we met or the many subsequent ones after it. What if he didn't want to remember?
He'd be lost forever.
He'd move on from me.
He draped his jacket over the back of the couch--such a simple Edward-like move, I almost choked on my breath--and turned to look at me.
My eyes flicked back to his in shock, but I quickly recovered, realising it was most probably the most convenient place to put his things, and not a habitual thing. I pressed my lips together and stared around too then back at him.
"So...this is it." I said lamely.
He nodded and reached his hand to his hair, running through it worriedly like he always did; it was a trait he'd been doing long before he met me. So any hope of more rekindled memories was lost once again...
"Is-Is something wrong?" he asked uncertainly; every word he spoke was wary and cautious, as if he wasn't sure it was right or wrong.
I noticed my face felt hot and there were tracks of wetness on my cheeks. I sniffed and averted my blurry eyes.
"I'm sorry." I muttered, my hair creating a curtain of privacy between us.
How was I going to make it through this without my Edward?
"It's okay," he replied softly with an apologetic smile, still uncomfortable.
He glanced down at my belly, as he often did and regained that look of disbelief and illness, the fact that it was impossible he had a child on the way when he didn't even remember the mother that beared it.
I watched him closely and the silence ensued as he stared at our concealed child, eyes bright and wondering but still with a hint of fear; after all, this Edward only just found out about the baby and me, he hadn't had time to prepare.
"Please don't cry," he begged with concerned eyes.
That made it worse; because it reminded me of what my Edward would have done in response to my tears and pain.
"A beautiful woman like you shouldn't cry." he murmured, handing me a box of tissues.
I laughed humourlessly but took the tissues with gratitude.
"Thanks,"
"Listen, I know this is hard for you..." he began and I stared up at him in shock.
He no longer wore the bandage around his head, so his hair was as unkempt and tousled as ever. He wore a faded green t-shirt that brought out his eyes and jacket over the top, some jeans and a pair of worn sneakers which he found familiar.
"It must be terrible, that I can't remember you...I'm trying!" he nodded desperately, taking one of my fisted hands and gently prising it apart.
Contact, tender, personal contact; it caused my breath to catch in my throat. I never knew how much I had missed this.
"I'm trying to remember you because based on what Mom and Dad told me about you--you were special to me. You are, you must be."
I sent a silent, grateful thanks to the Cullens for having the guts that I didn't have.
"You seem like a wonderful person...can...can I just...ask for some...time?" he beseeched, his face stretched into a genuine smile.
"I just," he whispered regretfully.
I squeezed his hand and he brought me closer, taking my other hand and squeezing that; it was lost in his large grip.
"I'm sorry about this, causing you pain and everything..." he apologised quietly.
I took a leap, metaphorically, a leap to close the gap.
I dropped his hands and threw my arms around his waist. Caught off guard, he stiffened for a moment before hesitantly curling his arms around me, my frame trembling against his.
"Thank you." I breathed.
I had opted to sleep in the guest room. It was actually the baby's room, the construction of it put on hold for a while. I still had ten weeks to go until she was due, so I wasn't in an immediate hurry.
It was my first night home since the accident.
I had spent every waking minute with Edward at the hospital, or should I say, the shell of Edward.
I missed that Edward more than anything. The Edward that smirked and cracked those beautiful crooked smiles I loved so much. I missed his scent, absent from beside me in bed. I missed the sparkle in his eyes as he placed both hands over my belly and kissed me.
I missed his touch, every single caress and show of affection.
I missed it with my entire heart, so much that it was almost unbearable to be alone in this bed, my old single bed from Forks.
I sighed and hugged my pillow closer to my side, sleeping restlessly and dreaming of my Edward.
That night felt empty.
An entire week passed.
Tuesday morning brought with it, an unexpected knock at the door. I started, almost falling off of my chair in the dining room as I ate an awkward, silent breakfast with my amnesiac fiancee. At least he remembered how much he liked pop-tarts.
Edward noted the subdued fear in my eyes and graciously got the door for me.
"Er, can I help you?"
Silence.
"Do I know you?"
I stood up with shaky legs and entered the hall way, Edward's back covering anyone in view. I shuffled down the floorboards, closer to his side. Edward moved out of the way and I stood frozen.
"Oh, Daddy," I couldn't hold back the broken, relieved and anguished sobs that erupted from somewhere deep within me.
Charlie was standing, shocked and stoic at the door. Someone must have contacted him, because I certainly hadn't. I'd been too involved with my life falling apart in a spectacular show around me.
"Daddy," I repeated, feeling like my seven-year-old self when my mother had to take me home after my Summer holidays with Charlie.
His face crumpled in defeat and sadness when he took me in, realising how damaged everything really was.
"Baby Bella," he mumbled, striding forwards.
I had my mouth covered with my hand, and I took my own steps toward him. He gathered me up in his arms as if I was still the same sad little girl. The sobs tore free and replaced the sound of everything else.
Had I been an outsider, I would have wondered who had died.
My cries were so heart-broken and sore, it almost sounded like I'd lost someone.
Which, in some ways, I had.
He hugged me tight, his knees bent slightly, leaning down to my short frame. He let my cry against his chest, clad in his travelling jacket and a button down shirt he reserved only for important occassions.
"Oh, my baby," he cooed with a cracking voice.
"I'm here for you now. I'm here to help."
Charlie's arrival dimmed my nerves.
He was a cloaked god send. The unexpected kind, the kind you didn't know could help at all until they came.
And so with a day filled with crying and silences; I was exhausted.
I offered Charlie the spare bed that I slept in. I was planning on sleeping on the fold out sofa. Edward insisted that the pregnant woman should sleep in her own bed, but I declined.
I couldn't bring myself to. I couldn't be in that room for too long or I would utterly lose my bearings. I suspected I was closer to being committed to an institution than Edward was. I had Charlie set the bed up for me, assuring him that it was bigger and therefore better than the single mattress in the baby's room. We didn't share many words between us about the subject that caused him to come see me.
He knew I was in dire pain.
Hew knew but he didn't say much; because the quiet was solace in itself. His presence and the fact that he actually came. He came when I needed him. This would count for much more than any words.
I crawled into bed as Charlie turned the lights out for me and disappeared down the hall way. Edward had already removed himself and settled back into bed, a cringing observer to todays festivities.
I trembled under the covers, not from the cold, but from the nightmares that always came. That had been coming for a two weeks now.
The week in hospital and the week home; it was torture in it's most horrid form.
Horrid, because anything could happen in your dreams, and that's where the worst occured.
I was afraid to shut my eyes again and become vulnerable to the slew of unimaginable pain and hauntings that always, always emerged.
I took another leap to cure my fear and loneliness.
I stood up from the bed, fumbled around in the dark and finally stumbled into my bedroom.
Edward was just a sillhouette under the coverlet--the golden one that we picked out together. He was peaceful and carefree. I wish I were.
I slowly crossed the room and gingerly sat on my side of the bed.
How odd, I thought.
He had reclaimed his side of the bed and left my side completely empty and untouched.
It ignited a pyre of adoration and hope inside my chest. I couldn't abstain from lying my body down next to his, forgetting the horrors of reality and singling our two forms out from the rest.
But unfortunately, I woke him up. Or maybe he was never asleep.
I laid my head back against my pillow as he rolled over, eyes widening at my appearance.
"Is something wrong?" he wondered, frowning.
I looked up at him, restraining more tears. I'm sure he was sick of them by now. I felt like this Edward was someone else, a stand-in for the original while I waited for the old one to return.
I could barely see his features in the shadows. The curtains were drawn and only a scant amount of moonlight filtered in; the city was asleep, too. I could vaguely hear the blaring of horns and rumble of vehicles off in the distance. It was oddly comforting, but I wouldn't say I didn't miss the thick blanket of secure silence that surrounded you in Forks.
But Forks wasn't my home anymore.
I let my head fall back to stare at the ceiling; out of my peripherals, Edward sat up, shirtless. I crossed my legs underneath me, leaning on one hand as the other stroked my belly. This entire room held his presence, his tastes, and mine, combined.
From the choice of carpet, a lighter golden, more creamy colour. Or the paint, a tasteful ivory, with one mocha feature wall that the headboard of our bed rested against.
I bit my lip and leaned over to reach inside the cherry wood nightstand to the side of the bed, opening the draw and revealing a picture I kept tucked safely inside.
I treasured this picture.
Because it wasn't like most pictures, not at all.
I handed the sonogram to him without a word and he took it without complaint. He looked over it in puzzlement before realisation crashed through him, wiping his face over.
"This is..." he cleared his throat. "...our child?" he had trouble coming to senses with those words.
I nodded and didn't bother wiping the rest of my tears away. They'd only keep coming. From the little amount of glow, I was able to discern his furrowed brow, casting darkness over his eyes. His mouth relaxed before the corners lifted subtly.
Hope.
"I don't feel like you're my Edward anymore," I whispered hoarsely.
He looked up at me sadly, but not as if he were devastated by that news.
"I feel like I'm waiting for him to come back to me."
He did me the courtesy of not speaking.
"But right now," I paused and carefully scooted closer, hesitantly reaching my hand to cup his cheek.
His lips parted and he leaned into my touch.
"Right now, you have my Edward's face. So...can you just...hold me?" I pleaded, staring at his blackened features.
His looks remained the same, but the feelings behind them were still absent.
Parts of him weren't alive.
"Okay." he relented in a soft whisper, eyes wide.
I nodded and laid back down, moving my body closer to his as he fumbled around, not knowing what to do. I grasped his right hand with my left, lacing my fingers with his. I rolled over and faced the other way, his chest to my back. I guided his hand to my stomach. His muscles were taught and unsure. His warmth was a sure fire way to melt the icy dread in my chest, it circled me now, filling me. I felt a million times better. Not perfect, but better.
"I just want you to know...I'm not giving up." I told him.
"I'll make us better." I closed my eyes.
His hand relaxed on my stomach just as I felt the baby kick into his palm.
I was sure he felt it, because he spoke then, voice cracking and filled with sorrow.
"Why don't I know you?"
Gripping him as tight as humanly possible, I buried my face into the pillow.