Sorry for the delay. A close friend passed away early in June. She was one of my best friends and she was only seventeen. For a long time, I couldn't write anything at all, so I hope that explains. Enough about me. This is a long one, so I wouldn't suggest reading it all in one sitting. To make this easier, I've divided this chapter into two parts. My mind is a mess right now, so if any of this sounds sloppy, I apologize.
ANITA.
I'm the hero of the story
Don't need to be saved
I'm the hero of the story
Don't need to be saved
Regina Spektor - Hero
11. YELLOW ANGELS
PART I:
I fought to contain my swelling hysteria as we drove away. Tremors of shock reduced my hands to useless appendages as I struggled to keep a firm hold on the steering wheel. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, making it nearly impossible to think, along with the rasp of my lungs as I labored to resist hyperventilation. Only one thought stood bright and clear in my mind: get away. I knew how easy it would be, just how little it would take for me to turn the car around and run back into his arms. Just as I began to regain control, the feel of his lips on mine made me cringe, and I fervently, vehemently regretted pushing him away, denying myself of any comfort or pleasure. My eyes welled with remorseful tears, and the road swam before me. Suddenly, a horn blared angrily and a flood of headlights cut through the falling snow, glaring in our direction. I swerved just in time, quickly realizing I'd drifted into the wrong lane, and only scraped the bumper of the other car.
"Bella, let me drive," Leah said firmly, sobered by the rush of adrenaline.
I hastily swiped an arm over my eyes and concentrated on the road, not bothering to answer. The wind whipped the thick snowfall in white, swirling columns that obscured my vision as I tried to feel out the way back. Eventually, the snow thinned and I pulled into the driveway. Leah and I scrambled out of the car and trudged through the slush. When finally inside, I threw off my jacket and squeezed out of my wet shoes. Leah did the same, and after which, headed straight for the kitchen. I peered after her suspiciously but felt too drained to investigate. As I tried to push the feeling of his arms around me out of my head, she emerged from the pantry and produced two large, party-sized bottles of Smirnoff Ice. My face pulled into a grimace.
"Where did that stuff come from?" I asked, irritated. "The only alcohol I buy is for decoration, like the Dom and the Pinot Grigio."
She looked at me knowingly and pulled two wineglasses from a cupboard. "I thought we'd need these soon."
"Hey," I protested weakly, "those glasses are for guests."
"What guests?" she smirked.
"Don't you know when to stop? You totaled your bike. But I guess that doesn't really matter anymore, does it? No, you can just get shit-faced drunk again, and everything will be just fine." I turned and headed for the stairs. Images of Edward in the snow flashed one after the other in a poorly constructed montage, each bring its own dose of ache.
Leah stalked out of the kitchen after me, alcohol and tumblers in hand. "Ok, I'm really sorry about being so irresponsible and taking you away from Angel, but nobody's doing any more driving tonight, especially in this weather, so that's not an issue." She set the drinks down on the coffee table. "We don't have to be so careful right now."
"We?" I shook my head. "I think you're missing the point. I'm going to bed, Leah. I refuse to aid you in your descent to alcoholism."
Leah rolled her eyes. "And maybe it won't solve anything, but you never know. In vino veritas, as they say. Who says we can't find an answer at the bottom of a wineglass?" she grinned. I glared at her, even while realizing that the heart of my irritation was not about her drinking. My shoulders slumped and I began to climb the stairs.
"Bella," she called, her voice softening, "look at me, honestly, and tell me you can sleep soundly after what just happened." She paused, allowing me to reply. I said nothing. "Sometimes it's good to have an escape from all the crap in your life. I'm pretty sure you need the booze more than I do."
The big blow-out with Edward felt almost surreal and frayed at the edges, as if in a dream, but the brush of his lips against mine was a sore reminder that it had happened. After a split-second of consideration, I slowly made my way back to the living room. Leah smiled and rubbed her palms together. "Let the games begin…."
Two hours later, Leah and I sat back to back on the floor against the couch, halfway through the second bottle.
"I mean, I was like, really horrible to him."
"You were."
"And he looked so hurt!"
"Devastated."
"But he had to know, right? I had to tell him."
"Of course."
"…I can't believe I just left him like that."
"Poor guy. You did, but at least the worst is over."
"I feel so confused. I still want him, so much, but there's…like, sooo much between us."
"Bummer."
"This sucks."
"Been there, done that."
"We are so wasted."
"An astute observation. The Russians know their alcohol."
"Oh, Edward," I slurred. "Why does love have to hurt so much?"
"That's the million-dollar question," Leah replied, "but maybe we'll find the answer at the bottom of this bottle." She filled her glass and reached over to sloppily tip some into mine.
"Still looking?"
"Hope springs eternal."
My eyes began to water. "Love really does suck," I whispered sadly.
"Then good riddance," Leah smirked, raising her glass. "Dry your tears, Bella, I am making a toast."
"Hear, hear," I encouraged her.
"To hell with crying into pillows and stressing over men. Let's just have one night without worrying about relationships," she declared.
"That, my dear, may be the finest toast in all of history," I mumbled, and then we clinked glasses. I took a lazy sip.
"Bella, this is a momentous occasion," Leah drawled disapprovingly. "Bottoms up, babe."
"Ace advise." I threw back the contents of my glass, then drained the remaining vodka in bottle, letting the bitter, searing liquid burn down my throat. The alcohol went straight to my head, deepening the satisfying buzz that erased everything. Off in the distance, I heard a loud roar that I thought to be the snow truckers clearing and salting the roads. I managed to throw a look over my shoulder. Leah's body had gone slack and her head lolled to the side. Sighing, I assumed she was out for the count.
"Weeeellll, the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon! Little Boy Blue and the man in the moon…" she bellowed suddenly, singing off-key.
I laughed, and joining in, I wailed, "When you comin' home, son? I don't know when, we'll get together then, Dad…"
As the night grew old, we warbled in unison, "We're gonna have a good time then…"
Sunlight streamed in through the shades of my window, slicing over me in odd angles. I opened my eyes slowly, which was a mistake. I shrieked, fell from the edge of my bed, and hid from the rays of light almost like a…vampire. If I'd had any idea that things would only get worse, I would have remained on the floor, becoming better acquainted with the carpet. As usual, Leah was nowhere to be seen. I slowly showered and got ready to step out. I'd already made it to the Audi when I realized that I didn't have my ID badge.
Back inside, I finally unearthed the fugitive card from the back pocket of a pair of jeans I'd worn a couple days earlier. I shoved it into my bag and pushed myself off the floor. Through the walls, the sounds of hurried shuffling and bags zipping caught my attention. I walked out into the hallway to investigate the commotion. I reached Leah's room and peered inside. Leah flung a wrinkled t-shirt into the open suitcase on her bed, her hair messy and face flushed.
I pushed the door open and slowly stepped inside. Leah stopped and turned around, wringing a bunched up sweater in her hands. I frowned. "What are you doing?"
She sighed. "I was really hoping you wouldn't be home for this." Throwing the sweater in with the rest of her clothing, she returned to the closet and began gathering her shoes.
"Wait…you're packing your things," I realized. "You're leaving? Why are you leaving? Is it me, was it something I said?"
She spared me a disbelieving glance over her shoulder and shook her head. "Being your friend has certainly been a lesson in patience."
"What do you…what are you trying to say?"
Dumping her shoes in another suitcase, she finally turned to give me her full attention. "I'm trying to say that I can't do it anymore."
"I don't understand," I said, confused, "You can't do what anymore?"
"I thought that you were just going through a stage when we were younger," she replied, throwing up her arms. "I thought you were suffering just like I had when Sam left me, and I tried to help you and pass on my knowledge, and I gave you time, but it's been six years. I got here a couple months ago, thinking you'd be better, and at first, you were. But after a while, I realized that you were almost exactly the same, and nothing I can do will ever change that. I can't keep cleaning up the aftermath whenever you fall apart."
My mind began to race. "What are you even talking about, where is this coming from all of a sudden?"
"All of a sudden? I didn't just realize this overnight, Bella; it's been a long time coming," she said firmly.
"What have you realized?" I demanded, beginning to panic. "What is this big revelation that is forcing you to – "
"You're selfish, Bella!" she said quietly. "You've been really, really selfish."
I blinked.
"…What?"
Leah ran a hand through her hair in frustration. "I gave you six years grace to sort yourself out, but I think that was much too generous because I'm now realizing that instead of moving forward, like I hoped you might, you took two steps back."
"I don't believe you," I whispered, glaring at her.
She shrugged. "Of course you don't. But if no one else was going to tell you, then I might as well."
I shook my head. "So this is what you think? You've got it all figured out, have you? I'm selfish. And tell me, how did you come up with that, huh?"
"Six years?" Leah began. "Six years. Don't you think that's a bit much, Bella? Its unhealthy to still be grieving a dead relationship after that long. And I bet you didn't consider how that made us feel, your friends and family. That we weren't enough to keep you happy, and that we were specks on your radar compared to Edward, the one who lied and left you while we were always there. You know, you're not the only one who's ever been broken up with."
I fell silent, feeling a deep-red blush creep up my neck.
"That's not even the biggest thing," she added. At that moment, I remembered all too well how relentless Leah could be when she was really pissed. "When you first started with Edward, didn't any warning bells go off in your head? No 'buyer beware!' alarms? You jumped into that mess pretty knowingly. Did you not consider how dating a vampire might come with its own consequences?"
"It was never about that…what he was…" I said in a small voice.
"And what about Jacob?" Leah pushed on. "I've tried to come to any another conclusion about that, but I can't help thinking that it was your fault. You knew that you were in no shape to be in a relationship, but you still got involved with him, lead him on. At one point he actually thought you were over Edward, but you just ended up breaking his heart and making the both of you miserable. It was really unfair. And you still haven't told him that the Cullens are back. He's always been so good to you."
"Thank you for reminding me what kind of person I am," I whimpered, trembling. "I can't help that the only way I know how to love is whole-heartedly. I'm sorry that it makes me do dumb shit and make stupid fucking choices, even if they aren't for the best. Is it wrong of me to want to make everyone around me happy?"
She rolled her eyes. "You know what it is? You just allow so much opportunity for disaster and negativity. You invite all these bad feelings to wreak havoc inside you. Tell me, do you enjoy all the drama in your life? All the unnecessary suffering?"
"Oh yeah, Leah I fucking love it!" I snorted. "I am just soaking it up!"
"Does it make you feel wise and 'above it all' to know that you've gone through a lot more trouble than most people are willing to live with?" she pressed.
"I don't invite negativity, it finds me," I barked. "What about Seth? I think his death probably had some adverse effects on me, don't you?"
"What about me?" Leah exploded. "Huh? What about me, Bella? I think it's safe to say that I lost a lot more than you did when he died. He was my brother! You don't think that was hard for me to get past that? You don't think that took a toll on my conscience?"
I stopped. And looked at her, really looked. Years of unexpressed pain were written into the grooves of her furrowed brows and the curve of her full lips. Her eyes were tired and teary. I gazed more intensely, unable to believe that I hadn't noticed it before. Breathing hard, she held my eyes a moment longer, and then looked away.
I held out a hand to her. "Leah…I'm so sorry. I never knew… I never thought about…"
"That's exactly what I'm talking about," she muttered, pulling out of my reach. "You're selfish. We all had reasons to feel guilty about what happened to Seth. I was his older sister, and I failed to protect him like I was supposed to after our father died. And my Mom. She lost her husband one year, and her only son the next. We couldn't look at each for months."
I swallowed uneasily. "Leah, I had no idea it was that bad, I didn't know – "
"And what about Jacob?" she continued. "They were practically brothers. The rest of the wolves, they had to feel each other's pain on top of their own. Jacob was the only one willing to phase for a long time." Jake, I thought. "And Sam…the alpha, the leader of the pack, what about him? Emily couldn't get a word out of him the first couple of days. We all felt like shit, like we had to find something to blame, because someone dropped the ball along the way. And you were there, the whole time, but you couldn't see past your own misery."
She turned from me, looking at the ground with her arms crossed. Her shoulders shook and she didn't look quite so strong.
"Leah…"
"I shouldn't be here," she interrupted, resuming her packing. Leah zipped up the suitcase and I abruptly realized that she was actually leaving.
"You don't have to go," I began.
"Yeah. I do."
I bit my lip. "So what am I supposed to do now?"
Leah turned to face me once more. "You grow up, Bella. That's the only choice you have. Grow up and move on, because life can throw some horrible shit at you, and if you don't keep moving, you will be left behind. That's what you do when life fucks you over, when it shoves adversity down your throat. You grow up, get your shit together, and you move on, because whether you like it or not, the world is not going to stop for some fifteen year-old kid that got caught up in something he shouldn't have or a little girl with cancer. The sooner you realize that, the better."
I nodded, pressing my lips together.
"And please use your head," she added. "It's okay to feel with your heart, but you have to think with your brain. You need to find a balance between feeling sympathy for others, and doing what's right for you. Most importantly, Bella, you have to stop blaming yourself for anything negative that happens. There are just some things that we have no control over."
She finished with a level stare at me, and then bent down to pick up her suitcase. I walked her to the door. She paused and offered a wry smile. "Here's lookin' at you kid."
Despite myself, I smiled too. "We'll always have Paris."
Extremely hung over, I walked into St. Jude gripping a thermos of hot coffee and wearing the darkest pair of sunglasses I could find. I approached the front desk, where Dr. Sheridan had left a message for me with the sunny receptionist.
"Ms. Swan?" she asked, her eyes brightening.
"Yeah."
"Dr. Sheridan wanted me to inform you that Angel has been moved from the sterilized room and back into her old one," she reported, smiling away. I nodded, and after scrubbing up, went in to see her.
Angel sat in the bed with her hands folded on her lap. Her eyes followed me sharply as I entered the room.
"Why are you wearing sunglasses inside?"
"No reason," I muttered, then took them off and squinted against the light. "Here, I brought your jello. Strawberry this time."
"You look tired," she remarked, taking the cup of jello.
I sighed. "So do you."
She ignored me. "Edward was here this morning. He told me a story."
I stopped. "What about?" I asked carefully, taking a seat beside the bed.
Angel met my eyes. "About a boy, a girl, and a piano. He told me they were in love, the boy and girl. He said the boy didn't really know who he was until she came along, and that she made him better every day. She always knew exactly what to say, and it seemed like she could read his mind. She made him laugh and never did anything he expected her to do. He was fascinated by her. She had the biggest brown eyes he'd ever seen, and he loved her more than anything in the whole wide world. Do you know the story?"
I swallowed, my cheeks flushing. "Yeah…I might've heard it somewhere."
"Well one day," Angel continued, "he took her to meet his family, and they loved her. After that, the boy and girl talked for a while, and finally, he took her to his piano. Edward said all he did was play a lullaby about how she made him feel, and then she cried, but they were happy tears. From then on, they were very close, and she was the reason for everything he did. But then something happened. The boy told a little lie. He only said it to protect her, but it ruined everything. She'd never understand how much it hurt him too, but it did. He lost her."
The only sound in the room was the hum of the EKG. Angel clutched the jello cup, looking at me expectantly.
I looked down. "Was that all he said?"
"He also said that she was beautiful, and smart, too…but she didn't know it. He said that she was always the best part of him."
I blinked, and then put the glasses back on to hide my eyes. "Well, tell Edward that he's a big fat liar," I sniffed. "I…she did not fully cry at the piano, it was like, one tear."
Finally, Angel shrugged. "He's not the best storyteller."
I nodded, thinking hard. "Did he…did he ask about me?"
She tapped her chin. "No. But I think he wanted to. He did say that there are going to be a lot of big changes soon."
I immediately lost myself in thought. I'd been avoiding thinking about it, but it was true. I would soon be facing some of the biggest changes of my life, and I was by no means ready for it.
"Bella," Angel said softly, breaking my attention. "You're crying."
I looked up and smiled apprehensively. "I'm just scared, Angel. Really scared."
"Well, don't be," she quipped, smiling. "I'll take care of you."
I laughed. "Alright."
Suddenly, she pouted. "Bella, how am I supposed to eat this jello without a spoon?"
I smiled wryly and got up. "I'll be right back, your Highness."
I journeyed to the cafeteria and back, with the spoon, all the while keeping an eye out for any stray Cullens. For whatever reason, the stucco walls and tiled floor of the corridor seemed especially dull that day. I reached the room faster than I'd expected.
"Angel," I started, walking in, "you should really be with all the other kids in the playroom, I'm sure your friends miss – "
Angel's face was nearly purple and she rasped loudly, squirming on the bed. The spoon clattered to the ground and I rushed to her side.
"Angel!" I yelled, grabbing her. "Angel, can you tell me what's wrong? Can you breathe?"
Her eyes filled with tears, almost bulging out of their sockets.
"Shit," I swore, panicking. I leaned over to punch the call button. "Nurse! We need help in here, she can't breathe!"
Angel's fingernails clawed my arm and her eyes fluttered briefly. My stomach dropped. Suddenly, a flurry of orderlies swarmed in and surrounded the bed in no time.
"You need to help her now!" I demanded.
They seemed to ignore me. Carlisle rushed into the room.
"Her airways are blocked!"
"Code blue!" he called. "Bring in the crash cart."
It arrived almost immediately.
"Johnson, the ambu-bag," he ordered
The one he'd indicated produced a blue plastic bag from the cart and began pumping it over Angel's face.
"It's not working!"
"Her blood pressure is dropping."
"Intubate," he barked, thrusting a catheter at another orderly. "Work fast. Her brain's not getting any oxygen."
She began to slide the tube down Angel's throat.
"Start her on ten grams of dopamine," he instructed a nurse.
I watched helplessly, wishing I could give her my lungs.
"Doctor, she's out!"
"BP is critically low."
"Keep going. Anaphylactic shock. I'm thinking it was the antibiotics. The dopamine will help, but let's get her on some epinephrine." Carlisle leaned closer, putting his ear to Angel's chest. "Wait, stop! Her left lung just collapsed. The problem's not in her trachea."
Angel's skin was quickly turning blue.
"We need to aspirate." Someone tossed him a syringe with a large needle.
"Stand back," Carlisle warned calmly. He pulled aside Angel's hospital gown and quickly stabbed the needle into the left side of her chest.
I winced. Almost immediately, Angel sucked in a lungful of air and began to choke.
"Angel, if you can hear me, just cough," Carlisle coached. "Cough it out, you'll be just fine."
She continued to cough, and slowly the color returned to her face. I let out the breath I'd been holding. As she spluttered and coughed, Carlisle smiled and helped her sit up. The tension began to seep out of my chest. Even in the face of high stress, Carlisle was so completely in his element in a hospital room. I'd never felt more thankful for that than that minute.
"Dr. Cullen, you'd better come look at this."
I frowned. Carlisle turned to inspect the issue, blocking my sight.
He swiveled abruptly. "Get her something to bite on, now!"
"She's crashing, her kidneys are failing!"
Before anyone could move, Angel cried out and began to shake.
"She's seizing!"
Her body bucked and convulsed violently. The IV needle was ripped out of her arm.
"Turn her on her side, let's get her into a gurney and over to the ICU."
They lifted her onto the stretcher and the whole team bustled out of the room. I followed them to the new room and ran inside.
"Going into V-fib, we need the paddles!"
"Carlisle, what's happening?" I screamed.
He looked at me. "Bella, you shouldn't be in here."
I looked at him in disbelief. "No. No! I can't go!"
He sighed, frustrated. "I'm sorry, but you need to leave now. That's an order," he demanded firmly.
For the first time, I realized that sometimes Carlisle was a doctor first, and a compassionate guardian second.
"No, Carlisle," I whispered, tears filling my eyes. "I'm not leaving her."
He was silent.
Without warning, Edward brushed in past me.
"Good. You're here," Carlisle said quietly.
"Alice saw. What can I do?"
A look passed between them that I didn't understand until Edward turned to me uncertainly.
"Is that the best idea?" he asked, frowning.
"Get her out of here," Carlisle breathed. Then he turned back to the nurses holding Angel on the stretcher. The hum of the defibrillator filled the room.
As Edward wrapped his arms around my waist, I shrieked, "No! What the fuck are you doing? Put me down! You don't understand, I need to be in there with her!"
"Bella, you don't need to be in there while they work, you'll be in the way," he muttered.
The sounds were muffled through the heavy metal doors, but I could still make them out perfectly.
"Clear!"
A thumping zap.
"Clear!"
Another loud thump.
"Again!"
I scraped and tore at his hands. "That's bullshit! Let me go, Edward, I have to get back in there. She needs my help!"
"And just what do you plan to do?" he yelled, turning me by my shoulders to face him. "Huh? How can you help her?"
I stopped fighting. "Fuck you," I spit. His grip relaxed immediately, and I took the opportunity to run back to the room. "Let me in!" I knocked frantically on the windows.
"Doctor, she's flat-lining!"
"Clear!"
Thump.
"Clear!"
I pushed my ear up against the door.
"Dr. Cullen, she's not respon– "
"Clear!"
Thump.
"C'mon, clear, dammit!"
Thump. Thump. THUMP.
Angel.
My heart jumped into my throat. Putting all my weight behind it, I kicked the doors and they slammed open.
Angel.
As I entered, a high-pitched beep issued from the EKG.I looked around rabidly, my heart pounding so hard, it felt ready to explode. I pushed past the orderlies and nursing staff.
Angel's frail body was sprawled on the bed. She was dangerously pale, almost grey. I gasped involuntarily.
"Call it."
"Time of death…"
"No!" I screeched at the orderly who spoke. I ripped the stopwatch out of his hand and threw it across the room. They all watched with wide eyes.
"Bella…"
I began to hyperventilate. "No, Carlisle, you've got to keep trying."
"There's nothing more I can do." He looked tired.
"You can do it," I called to Edward. "Edward, you can help her, can't you? Do something."
He looked away. The room was deathly still.
"No," I whispered. I closed my eyes and shook my head firmly. "No. You can help her, I know you can. It's not too late."
I looked around, but no one volunteered.
"Why won't you help her?"
I glared at them all, but a tug at my heart pulled me to Angel's side. I leaned down to cradle her in my arms.
"Don't worry, Angel, it's okay," I whispered in a rush. "I'll help you. I – I'm gonna fix you, and then you'll get better." My voice broke. "You'll be okay, everything's going to be fine. Just fine."
She was so cold in my arms. I wrapped a blanket around her and dragged an arm across my watery eyes. Making sure she was tucked in tight, I laid her on the bed. Her wispy golden hair splayed out on the pillow, framing her small, still face like a halo. "I'll take care of you," I whispered. Trembling, I brushed a hand over her forehead and kissed her cheek.
"Are you satisfied?" I asked, whipping around. "Huh, is your work done here? Ready to call it a night?"
I turned to Edward. "And you. You make me sick," I hissed, approaching him. He didn't meet my eyes. "What's wrong with you? Why aren't you doing anything, you know what she means to me!" I slapped my hands on his chest and shoved him hard. He staggered back a couple of steps, for my benefit, no doubt. "Huh? What's the problem? What's holding you back? Are you off duty, Dr. Cullen? Help her!" I shouted, tears spilling over my lids. He didn't flinch.
I lost control and began to pound my fists against his chest, each blow jarring the bones in my hand. "How dare you call yourself a doctor? You're fucking useless!" I pounded even harder, until my knuckles bled. "You're not even trying. Why won't you help her? Why?" I broke down, but continued pounding half-heartedly on his chest. Slowly, he put his hands over my angry fists and slid them down to his sides. I rested my head on his shoulder, losing my resolve. All I could feel was pain and exhaustion.
"I'm sorry, Bella. I'm sorry, I am so, so sorry," he murmured into my hair, his voice unsteady.
"You have to help her."
"I'm so sorry, Bella."
"Help..."
My knees buckled and I collapsed against him. The last thing I heard was the rolling of a gurney pass through the door.
"Go ahead and burn it down
I'm drunk and so is everyone else
In this devil town
They wont let me turn around
To get one last look at my baby
While she's still around,
While she's still around..."
3OH!3 - Still Around
PART II:
"You've been in here for five days."
"And I won't leave until she wakes up."
"Edward, you need to hunt."
"I'm fine."
"You're not being reasonable. I promise you, someone will be here when she wakes, there's really no need for you to –"
"Carlisle, she's moving."
A cool hand swept across my forehead, cheeks, neck. It didn't surprise me at all that I'd feel his touch before I was conscious of myself, of where in the hell my arms and legs were. My eyes opened to the walls of a brightly lit room. Edward sat on the edge of the bed and Carlisle stood at the nightstand, examining my movement. I blinked and tried to clear my head.
"Good eve…well, I suppose it's morning now," Carlisle said pleasantly. He smiled down at me, the lines of worry disappearing before I could comprehend it.
Edward didn't speak. His eyes were dark and unreadable.
"Where am I?" I murmured, my eyes flickering around the room.
"You're in room 213." Alice's spiky-haired head popped into the doorway. "St. Jude's, to be exact."
I huffed and tried to sit up. "The…the hospital? Why am I here? My head hurts…and all over. What the hell happened?"
Carlisle gently pushed me back down onto the pillow. "Bella, you're a little sick right now."
"Sick?"
"Hey, Bella's up!" Emmett appeared in the doorway beside Alice with a huge grin, followed closely by Jasper. "Wait a minute, were you two playing 'doctor'?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows slyly. Jasper elbowed him in the ribs.
Carlisle shot him a reprimanding look, and then turned back to me. "You're going to be just fine, Bella. I believe that what's happening to your body is purely psychosomatic. All of your pent up stress and tension has sent your body into a hysteria, and it's beginning to manifest itself through physical symptoms. Yours is perhaps a little more severe than normal cases of word, but I think it's a safe bet to say that you're going to be okay."
"Well, that's always good news," Jasper said quietly.
"Wait…did you say hysteria?" I racked my brain. "Exactly what happened?"
Edward frowned just slightly.
Carlisle paused. "You don't…you don't remember anything that happened that night?"
I began to panic. "No…what's going on? How long have I been here?"
"Five days."
Edward swore and stood abruptly.
I looked at him. "What is it? What's happened?"
No one spoke.
"Please," I begged, my voice breaking, "if there's something wrong, I want to…"
Angel.
Something big, something important scratched just at the edge of my memory. I furrowed my brows till thinking so hard began to hurt. "Is it…is it Angel? Where is she? What's happened to her? Where's Angel?" My panic rose as I took a survey of their faces, and realized I'd struck a chord.
Angel.
No one moved. Eventually, Carlisle decided to step up. I'd never seen a more sorrowful expression taint anyone's face so absolutely, not even my own.
"Bella," Carlisle began slowly, "Last night was rough, and what happened was widely unexpected. It started with her lung collapsing. We found a tear in the tissue, but only after it was too late. Then Angel had a major seizure." My breath caught, and as he continued, the details came back to me in small bits. His voice became white noise and faded into the background.
"We tried to aspirate, but pressure pushed her heart under cardiac arrest. We worked fast…the defibrillator brought her out of it…too strong…went into ventricular fibrillation…"
Angel thrashing and tangling in the sheets. Carlisle stabbing the needle into her chest. The asystole. Miles and miles of catheters and wires. Her body bucking as a nurse hit her with the paddles. Edward holding me back. It all came flooding back.
"…we did everything we knew…I'm sorry, but she didn't make it."
There was a hollow ringing in my ears. I shook my head viciously and shut my eyes. "No. No. T-That can't…that's not possible, I was just with her, a-at the hospital, she was f-fine…and we – she promised...eating jello. Strawberry jello…"
Though an adamant, impenetrable silence filled the room, the ringing in my ears grew loud, louder, so loud that it felt as if my head was splitting open. I curled into myself and screamed into the pillow. The ringing stopped. For that single moment, it seemed, the world stood completely still, and I knew, though it killed me to admit it, that Angel was really and truly gone. I could feel it. The edges of reality seemed to bend and distort.
"Bella".
He reached into my onslaught, and pulled me, yet again from myself, his hand landing on my shoulder. I tried to shrug him off, but couldn't find the heart to. Instead, I clung to him when he climbed into the bed beside me, and shrunk from the panting and blubbering that I did not at first recognize to be my own. Despite my grief, it did not escape me that we were suddenly quite alone. I tried to focus on him through my tears. For the first time in a long time, he was not the most important thing on my mind.
"I'm so sorry about the way things turned out, Bella," Edward began bitterly. "I wish I could just erase all of this, just make everything alright for you, but there are some things even beyond my power."
"You were right," I spit. "Before, about…A-Angel. I mean, who was I to think I could be a mother?"
He sighed deeply, his eyes heavy with regret. "No Bella, that's not what I meant…I shouldn't have said that."
"Well, it's true," I muttered, sniffling. "How am I supposed to take care of a little girl when I can hardly take care of myself?"
Edward frowned, shaking his head. "Listen, Bella. You fought hard for her to stay alive. That means something."
"It means that I failed," I whimpered.
"It means you'd have done anything to save her, and if that's not a mother, then what is? It means that there was nothing you could've done to change what happened," he said firmly.
"Not enough," I cried, my face crumpling. "That's not enough."
He said nothing more. Eventually, his arms found their way around me. The thick blankets came between us making actual contact, and at that minute, I craved his touch.
"I'm so tired," I whispered shakily. "So tired of being sad, and tired of being tired."
Looking down at me, his eyes had never looked so lost, so helpless. "I don't know what to do about that," he breathed.
Exhaustion suddenly clouded my mind and everything became dreamlike.
"I don't want to be sad," I rasped. "Tired. I want to feel good. I want to feel okay." Struggling to keep my eyes open and locked on his, I hoped fiercely that he'd understand what I didn't have to say. The need for distraction aided my confidence, paired with the fact that I no longer knew if this was actually happening or not.
It was all a blur. We were holding, gripping, clutching at each other, and he covered my lips with his. Angel was still very much at the front of my mind, and the pain of loss even more so…but touch, feel…that was real. Searching desperately for escape, I pushed myself further, digging my fingernails into his back until they bled. And just for a moment, just for a little while, I lost myself in him. It had never been very hard to do, after all.
Abruptly, Edward pulled away. "Bella, you need to rest," he panted, his voice strained. He moved to push himself off of the bed. Automatically, I clung to him as panic began rising in my chest.
"No! Don't go. I don't want to be alone," I begged frantically. "Stay with me…I need you."
Edward didn't speak. He frowned, but his eyes held mine. I gulped. For a long moment, he sat this way. I began to fear the impact my words would have later, but then quickly decided that I didn't care. Finally, he relaxed and settled back into the bed. I let out a breath of relief and snuggled in close. Edward put his arms around me, and I closed my eyes. Fatigue hit me hard and my lids were too heavy to hold up. As I drifted out of consciousness, he whispered softly, "Where else am I going to go?" and kissed the top of my head.
Time warped and twisted into bouts of feverish, deep sleep permeated with bouts of hazy consciousness. The world lurched and spun until I was reduced to little more than sweat, pain, and vomit. I strained to remain conscious, but when the vivid memories of what had happened in the hospital flooded over me, I saw no point in resisting. Time passed. It passed as it usually did, and eventually I had to get up.
Slowly, I opened my eyes. A warning throbbed at my temples and my tongue felt huge and swollen in my mouth. Edward sat slumped in a wooden chair near the door, a white arm thrown lazily over his eyes, just as he'd been when I'd drifted off. As per usual, there was an unnatural stillness to him that had always unnerved me. If I hadn't known better, I might have thought he was asleep. The room was uncomfortably hot, which I assumed was for my benefit. It was as I quietly tried to free myself of the heavy covers that I realized how weak and tired my body truly was. I let my arms fall limp and struggled to catch my breath, blinking as the effort began to dizzy me. Eventually, my breathing fell back into a natural rhythm, though I still felt flushed. I looked up. Edward's eyes were on me, his features drawn in tension. Almost as if on cue, my throat suddenly felt painfully dry. I licked my lips.
Before I'd even thought of anything to say, I opened my mouth to speak, but only let out a sharp gasp as a bolt of pain shot through my abdomen. Edward, instantly at my side, pulled me up into a sitting position.
"Here," he said softly, bringing a cold glass of water to my lips. "You're just dehydrated."
I gulped gratefully from the cup. The water, though shockingly cold, was a relief to my parched, dry throat. The bottom of the glass came far too soon. I frowned.
A hint of a smile touched Edward's lips, but it was gone before I could respond. He set me gently back on the pillow. I looked up at him. A bead of sweat slid down my neck. Not meeting my eyes, he cautiously peeled the blankets away from my body.
"Thank you," I whispered hoarsely.
Finally, Edward met my eyes. Out of all the emotions flickering behind his dark irises, the one I recognized most was uncertainty. I swallowed, hard and my face warmed. From the pit of my stomach, I knew there was something I'd said or done, something that had happened between us that I'd probably regret if I could remember it. I pushed at the edges of my mind, searching for a clue, but it was as if everything after the hospital was completely blacked out. I shrunk inwardly from his probing gaze.
After a moment, he dropped his eyes and walked out of the room, leaving the door wide open. I stared shortly after him. Then, pushing up with my arms, I held myself up shakily. With all the strength I had left, I swung my legs over the bed where they dangled precariously on the edge. Lowering myself down, I slowly let go when my feet touched the carpet. Almost immediately, a rush of breath-stealing vertigo swept through me and I crashed to the floor. I groaned as my elbow connected with one of the bed's legs. The throbbing in my head grew more intense, making it hard to think. Before I could attempt to push myself off the ground, Edward gathered me into his arms and held me upright.
"You shouldn't have done that, Bella," he murmured, frowning. Despite my disorientation, I could feel the concern just beneath his disapproval. "Your body's nowhere near strong enough yet."
I leaned into his support, letting my stiff legs go limp. Edward set me back on the bed and gave me the new glass of water he'd brought up. This time, I drank slowly, my thirst already somewhat quenched. My stomach churned, as if wrestling between rejecting the water or not. I handed the cup back to Edward. Holding my eyes, he placed his hand over mine on the cup. Static sparked where our skin connected. He reached up to tuck a rogue tendril of hair behind my ear. It was almost a reflex. I blinked. He paused, as if his hand had moved of its own volition, but then slowly brushed his palm against my cheek. My body tensed and I found it extremely difficult to breathe. It made me nervous that the same touch that had once made my heart pound was now also what filled me with dread and apprehension. His face was faceted with a million different emotions and thoughts. Heat blazed where his fingertips trailed.
I shivered. "Thank you…for looking after me."
His brows furrowed. "I will always look after you, Bella."
My heart thumped, hard. "And I'm sorry for what I said in the hospital. I know you and Carlisle did everything you could. It was wrong of me to accuse you of not trying, I shouldn't have."
Edward shook his head. "No, you were scared and in shock. It was a long night. No one was prepared for what happened."
Like clockwork, my mind flashed back to that night. The images that I knew would be with me forever…Angel thrashing on the bed…Carlisle pumping her chest…the heart monitor flat-lining. I grimaced and shut my eyes tight, trying to stop the flood of unwanted reminders of what I'd lost. I swallowed hard and fought to ignore the ache inside that pulsed like a second heart. This feeling was inevitable, I knew, but that knowledge didn't make it any less difficult. Despite willing against it, a few tears escaped and hung on my lashes.
The hairs on my neck stood straight when Edward's cool palms cupped either side of my face, and though I felt it coming, my heart still jumped when his lips found mine. This feeling, it was like a drug, how I tried to resist, but it'd never really felt like the choice was mine. Getting lost in him was something I'd lost my say in a long time ago. Finally, his hands clutching my knees, he pulled back, and of course, I wasn't quite ready for him to stop. Edward's eyes held me with an ethereal shine, despite being so black, and a light smile played at his lips. I felt butterflies. Big, jittery ones.
"Um…Edward," I began nervously. "I don't know…I can't really remember much, but anything I might've said…or done, or both last night…well, you should probably disregard all of it. I mean…I wasn't very coherent, and I probably said some confusing things, and…if you could just…you know…forget…"
Almost immediately, the light in his dark eyes went out, and an icy glaze frosted over his face. He looked away and took several steps back.
"Of course."
I held my breath. "Edward…"
Turning his back, he walked to the door. "I need to hunt."
And then he left.
I cursed and thought, Don't you ever get tired of walking away from me?
On the day I finally left the hospital, my body was feeling a lot stronger. Carlisle gave me some last-minute tips on getting enough rest and staying hydrated whilst checking my general systems. I nodded and agreed to take things easy for a while. After this, offered to collect my things, but Edward was already there. I walked to the door and closed it softly behind me.
"How do you feel?" he looked at me, but didn't meet my eyes.
"Okay," I replied tentatively.
Edward's eyes darkened quickly and he looked at the door. I felt nauseous. It was obvious that he wasn't pleased with whatever he was hearing. I'd thought I would be afforded a little more time to tell him myself, but from the way his face changed, I realized that Carlisle had wasted no time to make the arrangements. He wouldn't take it well, being the last to know.
"What's going on?"
I hesitated. "I'm going away."
"What?" he demanded in a low whisper.
"I'm going back to Forks," I clarified.
"No." He shook his head and furrowed his brows, as if having trouble understanding what this meant. "What about your job?"
"I quit," I said quietly, looking down at my hands.
"Bella, you can't just pack up and leave. Do you really think now's the best time to – "
"I wasn't asking your permission." I looked up at him firmly and said, "I'm going to Forks."
"What are you running from, Bella?" he asked scornfully, "Because I'll still be right here when you get back."
"I'm not running from anything," I mumbled. "Not anymore, at least. Forks is where I need to be right now. It's time."
He glared at me for what felt like hours. "So you're leaving? Just like that." His voice was hard, and desperate.
I gave an exasperated breath. "Edward, I've just lost everything that was ever really important to me...again. And I woke up this morning and realized that I've been lying to myself for a long time. I'm nowhere near where I thought I'd be six years ago. What else is there to do but go back to the beginning, where it all started? Can you see how that might make sense to me?"
He shut his eyes tightly and seemed to shudder.
"This isn't what I wanted for myself," I whispered sadly.
His jaw twitched. "Are you coming back?"
"I don't know. Maybe in Forks, with my family and my friends, I'll realize that nothing's really as bad as it seems and I'll come back. Or maybe I won't, and I'll stay there for the as long as I need to. I honestly don't know," I looked at him nervously.
He didn't speak.
I began grasping for straws. "There's no way around it, Edward. I'm going. But I don't want to leave with you angry at me."
"You could still have me."
"What?"
"You haven't lost everything," he said.
"Edward…" I began.
"And us?" His eyes burned. "Is this how we're going to leave things?"
I bit my lip. "I have other things to sort out."
His shoulders slumped. "Do you really…really have to leave?" he uttered despairingly. Telling him just as difficult as I'd feared, and I quickly regretted the decision.
"Don't look for me while I'm gone," I murmured, quite unable to meet his eyes.
We were quiet a long time. Eventually Edward sighed warily. "You know I won't stop you. And I'll give you all the time in the world, if that's what you need…as long as I know you won't just disappear."
I nodded mutely. He stepped closer and cupped my cheek. "I hope you'll still think about me. And I hope that when you do, they're warm thoughts." He tilted my chin, and then our lips crushed together and I wanted him all over again. It was so frustratingly tempting, how I couldn't stop it even if I tried. I wanted to take back everything I'd said and just be with him…but life simply didn't work that way. We separated and he let out a long, jagged breath. He dropped his hand and stepped back. His eyes grew far away and he seemed to separate himself completely from the situation alarmingly fast.
"Goodbye, Edward."
He nodded, and lifting the bags of my clothing Alice had brought, left the room, but not so quickly that I couldn't follow. We made it through the hospital in silence. The rest of the Cullens stood in the waiting room to wish me well and watch my departure. Carlisle checked me out at the reception desk. I turned to Edward, and blinked when I almost ran into his back. Gently, I laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Thank you," I said quietly, hoping he'd turn to face me.
He didn't.
I frowned sadly. "Listen, Edward, I don't want you to be upset with me…" I whispered, though it was barely audible. It was a long time before he replied. And then:
"Your cab's here."
I dropped my hand disappointedly and watched as he left to pack my stuff into the boot. After he'd finished, I grabbed his hand and made him face me. His eyes seemed to flicker, but it was gone before I could react.
"Edward, please," I mumbled, trying to solicit some sort of response from him.
His eyes, still distant, lingered on our touching hands, and to my slight relief, reached up to connect with mine. He swallowed, and breathed, "Take care of yourself."
I nodded and got into the cab. I gave the driver my address. For a brief moment, when we pulled up in front of my apartment, I wondered what the hell was going on. Once inside, I pushed the door shut behind me and stopped. I looked around. The living room was so bare, and I hadn't even started packing yet. It was hard to imagine anyone living in a place so bleak and empty. Why hadn't I noticed it before? Perhaps I'd never meant to stay in New Jersey long. I slowly walked over to the couch and plopped down. The white walls glared back at me, demanding the truth. What am I doing?
Three days later, I attended Angel's funeral. The Cullens were there, along with some of the hospital staff who'd cared for her, including Dr. Sherridan. It was a small, miserable gathering, no more than twenty in all. If it weren't for the setting, I might've laughed at the way they avoided meeting my eyes. If it weren't for the setting, someone might've had the courage to say 'I told you so'. After reading the usual passages, the priest looked up solemnly and asked if anyone would like to spare a few words. I had nothing to say, at least not to anyone that would still hear it.
Shortly after this, the burial began. Most of the small crowd began to peter out, except the Cullens, who stayed to offer their condolences and hospitality. Edward said nothing, and that was the most I remembered. Eventually, they left, and I stood alone at the fresh mound of dirt and laid a bouquet of yellow flowers on top of it. Roses. As I stood empty handed, the first tear slipped down. It was followed by several more, and some sniffles, too. Coloring in the playroom. Walking by the pier. Leaning over the railing of the ferryboat as the sun set over the Atlantic horizon. Strawberry jello kisses.
It was a while before I noticed the cold, ivory hand in mine. Speckles of sunlight shone softly, bouncing off the facets in his skin. With my free hand, I shielded my eyes, and absently wished I'd thought to bring a pair of sunglasses.
The sun had never shined so brightly as on the day we buried an angel.
I pulled a bottle of aspirin from the medicine cabinet and shook one out. After taking it, I leaned against the counter until my head was clear. Remembering where I was supposed to be, I pushed off and strolled back to the living room to find my car keys. Minutes later, I located them on the coffee table next to the ominous plane tickets. The doorbell rang. My breath caught. I stepped forward and opened the door.
Edward stood behind it, eyes closed, his hand poised to ring the bell again. Despite all my efforts, my mind went blank, and then our fight in the snow rushed back to me. I blushed, recalling everything that'd happened between us lately, especially at the hospital. My neck and face felt hot. Finally, he opened his eyes. I looked down, but not before I saw the softness in them. Slowly, I backed away from the door, and tried to look at anything but him.
"Can I come in?" he asked lightly.
Of course. "…Yes."
Edward stepped into the room, my living room, so familiar to me and filled with things I'd picked out myself, and yet the second he was inside, the air seemed to shift and everything changed. He surveyed me from the threshold, took in my messy bun, my flushed, sweaty face, and my sure to be sickly complexion. There was something in the way he held my eyes, something tangible in the distance between us that I knew we were both glaringly aware of. He paused, taking in the large boxes stacked in my otherwise bare living room, and then Edward closed the door behind him with a purposeful, almost painful slowness.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"Like I don't really know what I'm doing," I replied, attempting a weak smile. "Forks is just small enough for everyone I know to watch me fall." He regarded me with thoughtful eyes and my skin began to itch.
"What are you doing here?" I finally asked nervously.
"Well," he began, "I came to say goodbye…again." He waited to see if I'd speak, but I let him continue. "But I also came to say that I'm sorry about everything. There are so many things I've done wrong, so many stupid mistakes, that I don't even know where to begin. I will never be able to forgive myself for everything I put you through. I know that no matter how many times I say I'm sorry, it won't mean anything to you, but I think this is a good place to start. Despite everything, it's always been about you. I thought I had your best interests at heart, and I was wrong, but I never meant to hurt you. I wanted to give you everything I could never have. I tried to save you from myself. You were just so beautiful and perfect the way you were that I couldn't stand the thought of changing anything about you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I had. But in doing so, I only made things worse. I can only hope that one day, I might earn your love and be worthy of your attention."
He finished and stood anxiously, anticipating my reply. I put my face in my hands and totally bawled, blubbering and sniffling to the point where it was almost obnoxious. Edward moved closer and laid a hand on my arm, unsure of how to proceed. I wished so violently that I was younger because it would have been so much easier. If he'd returned when I was still eighteen, before all of those terrible things that scarred my past had happened, I knew without a doubt that I would've run directly back into his arms. He would've held me and kissed me and I'd laugh and smile and maybe even cry a little while saying how happy I was that he was back and we would have been together forever. That was the Bella I wanted to be, but not who I was now, because I wasn't younger. The Bella I was now was old and wise, yet still impossibly clueless. My heart had grown more reluctant to forgive, and I'd learned to live without Edward. In result, the change had served to make me stronger than I'd realized, and also independent. I'd had to change, because the only alternative had been to wallow and waste away in my own despair. This new Bella could no longer be melted by words, persuaded by soft caresses…or moved by heartfelt apologies. I wiped my eyes, took a deep breath and looked up at him carefully, knowing that everything we were about to say would change us forever.
"Say something," Edward said apprehensively. I'd never seen him so vulnerable.
"What am I supposed to say?" I asked softly.
"What's on your mind," he replied.
"I don't know what to think."
He sighed. "I understand. There's a lot to think about, and you need time."
"It's been six years," I said, looking away. "Time doesn't solve anything."
He frowned, but said nothing.
"What do you want to hear, Edward?" I asked. "Are you asking for my forgiveness?"
He shrugged helplessly.
It was my turn to sigh. "I want to. I really do. I wish I could just forgive you because that seems to be the next appropriate move, and maybe I already have…but what if I can't? Or if it's irrelevant? What if anything that might've ever been between us is past?"
Edward looked at me. "Bella, I've been around a long time. I've seen a lot of things, enough to know that love can overcome almost anything." He paused. "I believe that. If I love you…and you could still find it in your heart to love me…"
"You know I do."
"Then," he continued, "maybe someday we can move past this."
We'd yelled and screamed at each other and said things we didn't mean, words that stabbed like ice and fell between us like a rain of arrows. I recalled vaguely the time Charlie had forced me to see the school counselor. A lumpy, unfeeling mass of a woman, her mantra had been 'forgiveness is the key'. How anyone ever hoped to gain insight from something so hollow was a mystery to me. The idea was that I had to forgive Edward if I wanted to move on and get over my 'depression'. What went beyond her hopelessly textbook method was that I'd already forgiven him, even if I didn't know it yet. Edward had left his mark on me, as indelible as any tattoo, and it didn't matter if he was right beside me, or a thousand miles away, I'd carry him with me forever. However, no matter how much I thought we'd loved each other, he had still broken promises and left. Betrayal was a stone beneath the mattress of a bed we might've once shared, something we'd feel digging into us no matter how we shifted position. Whether we liked it or not, it would always be there. What was the point of being able to forgive, when deep down, we both had to admit we'd never forget?
I shook my head. "It's not that simple."
"It can be, if you let it. The only thing stopping us…is us."
"You just don't understand," I disagreed.
"What don't I understand?" Edward demanded, frustrated. "What's missing? I know…I know I've got a lot to make up for, and that will take a while, but I will figure this out."
What words would suffice to spell out the mysteries of my heart and mind? How could I possibly explain to him that though he was forgiven, it would take me a long time before I could restore my faith in him again? That on top of everything, I was scared shitless of jumping back into a something that had been so dangerously addictive to me, not to mention detrimental to my mental health?
"I'm not looking for an answer. I don't think there is one." I hesitated to gather what I wanted to say. "A relationship is built on a lot of things. Trust, respect, love and much more. I thought we had all of those things, but I was wrong. You allowed me to believe that you'd always be around, but then you left. I understand you did it for me, but saying you meant well doesn't mean anything." I paused. "When I think about it, about how you left me so suddenly and how it changed everything…it's so easy for me to hate you for it. And that scares me, because you were one of the only things in my life that I relied on to stay constant, to always be there. I trusted you. When you promised me forever, I believed you. I believed every word that came out of your mouth and you used that against me. You were the last person I ever thought would hurt me!" I said firmly, trying not to be angry. My hands shook. I closed my eyes and blew out shaky breath. "I don't know if I can ever be with you in that way again, not after everything we've been through."
Edward's eyes grew sad and weary. I found another point to focus my eyes on, a notch in the leg of my coffee table.
"I have become this self-absorbed, introverted workaholic with 'trust issues' and anxiety attacks. That was never what I wanted to be. I don't even like my job!" I laughed bitterly. "I became selfish. I got caught up in the tragedy of my own life, so much so that I couldn't be there for the people I cared about when they needed me, when they were going through the same things. I won't blame you for it. It wasn't fair to them, and it's not fair to you. I take full responsibility for that."
"But if I have a hard time trusting myself, how am I supposed to be able to trust you?" I continued. "It's not just about us anymore. There are so many other people involved now, so many people who would be so disappointed and angry if I decided to be with you again, people whose lives would be affected if we chose to get back together. You might have a lot to gain from it, but I'd be losing a lot." I thought of Leah, Charlie, Renee, and Sam. I thought of Jacob. "When I was eighteen, I was so sure of everything in my life, so content in the certainty that we'd always be together….and then you left, and I realized that I knew nothing. You leaving…it was like an education. I've changed. Whether it's for better or for worse, I don't know. But I just can't bring myself to truly, fully love you without reservations right now."
Almost unconsciously, Edward stepped closer. "All this could have been avoided…I never should have left," he mused, as if detached from the situation.
"Maybe you were right for leaving," I said sorely. "You're a vampire, you're strong and beautiful, and I'm just a human, I don't belong in your world. Being in love shouldn't hurt this much, and…and maybe it wouldn't if we weren't so different. Maybe it hurts so much because a couple like us surviving is impossible and we're wasting our time trying."
Edward's eyes snapped back up to me. "Yes, that's true Bella, we're different. There has never been a couple like us in this world," he said in a rush, "but if you think we're wasting our time now, that means all the time we spent together in Forks was wasted as well. If anyone can pull through something like this, we can! We made it work once before."
"I was young, and impulsive. I idolized you far too much. I let myself become complacent and oblivious, and we let things get intense so fast."
"Bella…look at me," Edward reached out and cupped my face in his hands softly, bringing our foreheads to touch. Reluctantly, I dragged my eyes up to meet his.
He kissed me softly. I winced, but closed my eyes, and he kissed me again. Over and over again, and as if there was no other choice, I surrendered.
Edward pulled back slowly and looked at me, his eyes murky pools of desperation. "If what you say is true, then why is it that every time our lips touch, every time I kiss you, why does it still feel like maybe anything is possible and I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I lost you? How is it that, right now, I would sacrifice everything if it meant that we'd be back to the way things were? If there's not anything between us anymore?"
I sniffed, squeezing my eyes shut. My stomach began to stitch and twist.
"I am in love with you, Isabella Swan, and I'll never want to be anywhere else but where you are. You can't tell me that this isn't what you want!"
"No…I don't want it…"
"You don't want this? Then what do you want?" he demanded, raising his voice.
"I-I want to go home…I want…" I mumbled, trying to think straight.
"Tell me what you want!"
"I want Charlie and Jacob and Leah…and Seth…"
"What do you want, Bella?"
"I-I…I don't know what…" I sobbed quietly.
"You're not telling me what you want!"
"…I don't know what I want…"
"What…do you really want?" he growled.
"I don't know."
He stopped, looked at me and dropped his hands slowly. The admission was almost as excruciating as realizing that it was completely true. "I don't know…I don't know what I want…" I murmured weakly, and let out a sharp cry as the pain peaked.
"Bella, what is it?" Edward shouted. I looked up at him in guilt, then sucked in a breath and doubled over. He leapt forward and caught me. My lips trembled and I clutched at my abdomen, taking deep, haggard breaths. Edward wiped away the tears falling freely with his thumbs.
"What's happening? What do you feel?" he asked frantically, eyeing my hands clenched over my stomach. Searing heat seemed to stab and shoot from my core, impairing my ability to speak. Tears swam to the surface once again as I tried to breathe. Edward took my face in his hands again and tried to hold my gaze. Almost as quickly as it had come, the pain subsided and I attempted to straighten myself.
"Bella…" he tried again helplessly.
"It's okay," I panted, still leaning against him. "Don't worry about me, I'm fine."
"You're not fine," he replied softly, holding me up. "You're in pain."
I shook my head slowly. "It's my fault. I…I haven't been drinking enough water."
"Bella, you have to take better care of yourself," Edward frowned. "I don't want to loose you for good."
"Maybe you should leave," I said hoarsely.
His features rippled through several emotions, but there was nothing there that I didn't feel in my own heart.
"Bella…" he began brokenly.
I knew so well what he had to be going through. It was as if my perspective had suddenly shifted and I understood exactly where his reasoning came from. It was like denying yourself of something for so long in fear of being inadequate, only to have the very thing, the only thing you wanted the most reject you and confirm that you were just not enough. This unexpected insight only made it all the more difficult to stick with what I was about to do.
"Edward, it just can't work," I stated, trying to keep my voice steady.
His eyes locked onto mine in agony. "You can't know that."
I shifted my weight away from his support and back on my own two legs. He seemed to panic for the loss of contact, looking at me expectantly.
I ran a hand through my hair. "Okay," I said, more calmly than I'd thought myself able. "Every time I see you, I feel myself light up. Even though I know we'll fight more often than talk and laugh, I can't help but want, no – need – to be close to you. It's like a weakness, or a vice, and it's unhealthy. You're not good for me." I sniffled. "You know, it took me a while to build my new life here, this façade of normalcy. It's not perfect, but I get along. Now, you've been here, what, a few months, and everything is already unraveling, and there isn't much I can do about it."
He didn't move, but I caught his irises darkening.
"And," I went on, trembling, "when we touch…or, or even kiss…my stomach twists and I don't really want to do it, but I do anyway, because a smaller part of me still wants to. It's starting to feel like an obligation, kissing you…like it's something that I owe to you. It shouldn't have to feel that way." I held his eyes. "Edward, I cannot be with you. Not like this."
"Bella," Edward interrupted almost jumpily. I realized that he was making one final attempt to change my mind. "When I left you, I fully intended on staying out of your life for as long as you lived. If I'd thought there was a small possibility, any chance at all that I'd see you again…I wouldn't have ended it." He paused and looked at me imploringly, as if trying to emphasize the significance of this. "Now, you know I've never bought into the idea of…fate, or – or destiny, or coincidence…but here you are. How is it that, somehow, after all this time…we've found each other here?" He took my hand. "Wherever here is."
I looked down at my hand in his. For all its marble whiteness, I didn't feel the coolness that always seemed to emanate from him. In that moment, I understood with faint dismay that he was just as human and just as breakable as I was. Nothing at all like the phenomenally extraordinary being I'd made him out to be. With an aching start, I knew what had to be done.
"Here?" I closed my eyes. "Here…I believe it's called an impasse." It surprised me how powerfully devastating that line could still be after all this time. A long, long minute passed. After hearing nothing, I opened my eyes cautiously. Edward's hands had dropped back to his side and he cast his eyes away. After an even longer moment, he looked up, and I could see it. It was so agonizingly, torturously, painfully clear. He was giving up.
"I fucked up," Edward chuckled humorlessly, pain and despair marring his entire disposition. "I really fucked up."
The next few minutes were hazy and barely made sense to me. I hardly understood how it happened, but we ended up holding each other, and the thought of what was about to happen suddenly seemed so unbearable.
He stumbled forward and I somewhat caught him. Though his frame towered over me, he slumped against me and I held him, supported him. Edward moaned and my throat closed up because I knew it was the sound of his heart breaking, a sound that I was already familiar with, but for once it was my turn to be the strong one. I knew this would be the hardest thing I'd ever do, and hurriedly whispered words of comfort into his ear, but it didn't seem to help. His hands clutched at my back, and he held on for dear life, as if in fear of drowning. He emitted another low, heart-wrenching moan and it was my name. I shuddered in response and held him tighter, trying to absorb some of his pain. I stroked his hair and kissed his pale cheek.
Slowly, he moved his head to align it with mine, and with anguish staining his features, looked painfully into my eyes and murmured my name again. Feeling the growing guilt, I looked down at his lips and it was as if pure reflex took over. He leaned closer and our lips crushed together in an agonizingly bittersweet, painful, desperate kiss. It was nothing like I'd ever felt before. We melded together and it was almost as if he was leaving me with part of himself, imprinting me with his very soul and everything he felt, his pain, sorrow, want, loss, guilt, regret, and above all, love. Without warning, his lips grew more demanding, seeking a strength in me that I willfully returned. I gave myself to him and the kiss transformed into something I knew I'd never experience the likes of again.
And yet it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. I pulled away with tears in my eyes. "Go," I whispered, and turned away. My heart thumped. I didn't hear a sound, but I knew quite suddenly that I was very, very alone.
"Lately I've been hard to reach
I've been too long on my own
Everybody has a private world
Where they can be alone
Are you calling me?
Are you trying to get through?
Are you reaching out for me?
I'm reaching out for you..."
Eminem - Beautiful
Well that's that. The story should be ending rather quickly, no more than two chapters after this, I expect. PLEASE REVIEW!
Oh yeah. Did anyone spot the movie reference here? The last two lines that Leah and Bella say to each other are from a classic film, and if anyone can guess which one, they'll get to add something to the story. No major plot twists, though, sorry.
ANITA.