A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts.
With Social Media around the world acting nutty for the past couple of days, I'm trying to post this before the cyber apocalypse worsens, and (gasp!) Fanfiction goes down as well! ;)
Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest belong to me. All mistakes are mine too.
Break - Ch 14
I swallowed back the last of my morning coffee and grimaced as it burned going down. Quickly washing the mug and setting it on the dish rack, I took a glance at the small, muted TV on the kitchen counter to confirm the mid-November morning forecast, and shrugged into my jacket.
"Mack, I'm leaving! Coffee's ready! See you later!"
Mack's indecipherable reply filtered in from the bathroom, but confident it was some form of acknowledgment, I picked the remote off the counter and pointed it at the TV.
The all-too-familiar face on the screen had me digging my thumb into the 'Volume' button instead of switching off the screen.
He was in the middle of another interview, and in response to whatever the journalist had just said, Edward shook his head. Though he smiled, I noted the tick of frustration just over his right eye and the silent exhalation which followed. Dark circles rung his vibrantly green eyes. He wore a lab coat, and as I took in his background – a laboratory packed with flasks, microscopes, and other men and women in various states of activity, I wondered how many hours it had been since Edward last slept.
"No. Whoever hasn't yet received this season's flu vaccine should most definitely receive that inoculation as soon as possible. This new vaccine will only be for one specific strain," he stressed. "Therefore, to ensure the maximum protection possible against influenza this season, everyone should receive two inoculations," – he held up one long finger first – "the original, vaccine," – then he held up a second finger – "and the booster vaccine, which is currently being prepared and should hopefully be available by month's end."
"Doctor Cullen, I understand that the particular strain for which the booster is being prepared wasn't included in the original vaccine, but does it really warrant another inoculation? I mean, I don't even like receiving one shot, much less two." The pretty, young journalist – the same one who'd interviewed him a few weeks earlier – laughed and reached out, swatting Edward's foot, which he had crossed over his long leg.
"Oh, come on. Seriously?" I berated the screen. "Did she just do that?"
On screen, Edward raised an eyebrow, dropped his foot, and sat up straighter.
"Unfortunately, yes," he replied coolly, "the strain does warrant another inoculation."
"Yes, bitch, it does warrant another one. He's told you this before. Get it-"
"Bee, are you fighting with the TV?"
I spun around and caught Makenna walking into the kitchen in her terry robe and shower cap. She offered me a curious grin as she made her way to the waiting coffee pot.
"Oh." I waved a hand at the TV. "It's just he's trying to convey important info about the flu, and she's trying to flirt."
Makenna's gaze panned to the TV. She took a seat and sipped her coffee. "Hm," she hummed from behind the mug's rim. "I can see why. He's a hottie doctor."
Pursing my lips, I returned my gaze to the TV. While I'd told Makenna about Edward, it was all over a year ago, and only in the vaguest terms. Therefore, as much as she obviously appreciated the sight of the doctor on TV, Mack had no idea who he was beyond some CDC guy.
"He's actually more of a scientist than a doctor."
Mack's eyes flashed up to me. Thankfully, my phone vibrated just then. I pulled it out of my bag and stealthily evaded Mack's questioning gaze. When I read the name on the screen, I smiled at Makenna and made my way out of the kitchen.
"I'm going to work."
"All right, Bee. See ya later."
"See you later, Mack," I called out while I answered the call. "Hello?"
Dead air greeted me.
"Hello? Edward?" I double-checked the caller ID, positive it was his name which had flashed across my phone, as I stepped out into the breezy morning.
A throat cleared. "Hey…Bella. Sorry. It sounds like I'm interrupting." His voice was as surprisingly crisp as was the air around me.
"No. I'm just heading to work. What's up?"
His initial words were hesitant, even uneasy, but with each successive sentence, they grew colder and harsher, and he ended with more than a hint of ire.
"Uh…I was just…just calling to confirm we're still on for our lunch date- excuse me, I mean meeting tomorrow. I apologize again if I interrupted anything, but I won't be back in New York until the early hours of the morning, and I wanted to double-check now rather than show up at the coffee shop and find you're not there because you realized you don't need a damn thing from me after all."
As his speech wore on, my brisk pace automatically decelerated, so that by the end, my feet stopped altogether. Then my first impulse was to tell him to go fuck himself if he realized he didn't want to help me after all.
But then…I recalled the exhausted man on TV.
Edward had his own life, and apparently, much more going on in it than I could've imagined. And based on what I did know, he was immensely busy, working around the clock on urgent deadlines, on matters of actual life and death. He had so much riding on his shoulders, and here I was, a woman popped-up from his past, who kicked a hornet's nest and stirred up shitty memories for us both, and who was still asking him to take time out from his life to help me clean up my fucked-up database.
When I replied, my voice was full of remorse instead of acrimony.
"Yes, Edward. We're still on unless something has come up for you. I know you've got a lot on your plate right now, and I understand if you can't make it tomorrow. We can…" I gazed out on the busy, weekday morning and swallowed past the lump of disappointment lodged in my throat. "We can reschedule for another time, whenever's more convenient for you."
A rush of air suddenly filled the invisible phone lines between us.
"Jesus. Bella…" Edward breathed. "I'm so damn sorry. I don't want to reschedule."
"You want to completely cancel?" I choked.
"No," he stressed. "God, no."
I gripped my hair. "Then, I'm confused. You sound extremely frustrated, Edward."
"I am frustrated," he said hoarsely. "I'm frustrated, and I'm pissed off at myself, and I can barely see through the haze of… But those are all my issues to deal with, not yours."
I frowned. "Now I really don't understand."
"I'm sorry. Honestly, I just called to hear…I just called to confirm for tomorrow. I didn't mean to act like a prick."
Even without the plethora of apologies, his remorse was loud and clear, and…and I didn't want to hear any more of it.
"Actually, I saw you on TV this morning," I said, changing the subject. "You looked…as frustrated as you sound right now," I added with a quiet chuckle.
He groaned, and I could almost see him raking a hand through his dark hair.
"Those damn interviews. I don't think they're going well at all. I don't seem to be getting the fact across that there will be two-"
"Two inoculations, not one," I finished for him as I resumed my walk. "The initial flu vaccine and the upcoming booster. You're getting it across, Edward. Don't worry about that. It's just the particular journalist who looks like she wants…to play games."
He chuckled. "Okay. Good. Bella, I really am sorry about my shitty attitude."
"I get it, Edward. You're under a lot of stress at work."
"It wasn't the work stress, Bella. I've lied to you enough-"
"Edward, stop."
"-and I'd be lying again if I allowed you to believe work stress caused my temper to flare just now." He sighed. "But like I said, that's my problem. It doesn't need to be yours. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
"All right, Edward." I sighed. "I'll see you tomorrow."
OOOOO
"So, guess who called me this morning?" I said.
Rose, Vera, and I were having lunch at a small creperie around the corner of my workshop. Nearing six months pregnant now, Rose had been craving crepes all week, and Vera and I complied with her every wish – not that Rose would ever take advantage. Not everyone was an idiot or an asshole. There were those who were in-between. I had learned that much.
"Whenever anyone says, 'Guess who called me this morning?,' the answer's obviously going to be something no one can guess. So why don't we cut to the chase, and you just tell us who called you?"
Though she wouldn't take advantage, the pregnancy had Rose in a serious mood lately. Vera and I both stared at her and then at one another.
"You know, Someone once told me most people lay somewhere in between the idiot and asshole spectrum, but lately, that same Someone's been more…"
"Oh, shut up," Rose smirked.
I burst out laughing, and when Rose scowled at me, I laid my hand over hers on the table.
"I'm just kidding. No, not really, but please don't un-godmother me."
Vera chuckled. "Don't worry, Bella. She needs a unanimous vote for that."
"See? Vera still loves me."
"Are we waiting for Baby Beck to join us before you finally tell us who called you?" Rose asked.
"Oh my God. What a bitch," I mouthed at Vera none-too-discreetly. She snickered. "Fine, Rose. Since you don't want to play along, it was my sweet little agent of one, Jessica Stanley who called. Remember her?"
"Jessica Stanley? She's still your agent?" Vera asked. "You haven't mentioned her in months, Bella. I thought you'd kicked her to the curb."
"I'm not the curb-kicking type. Besides, I haven't mentioned her because I haven't heard from her."
"Just what one wants from an agent," Rose teased. "Total silence."
"Not total silence. She sends me periodic emails here and there, assuring me she's working hard on my behalf, getting my manuscript into the hands of the best publishers out there."
"Oh, it shows. Bella, we know you're not the curb-kicking type," Vera said, "but you need better representation, my love."
I chewed my crepe. "There's more."
"Must we guess that too?" Rose asked.
"God forbid," I grinned. "No. Apparently, we've got a meeting with some publisher or other the day after tomorrow."
Here, Rose and Vera both set down their crepes.
"Get out," Vera said.
"Why didn't you just start off with that?" Rose added, rubbing her bump. "Which publisher?"
"Jessica wants to surprise me." I smiled around a piece of swiss and ham. "She just told me where and when to show up."
Their mutual excitement appeared to diminish.
"Like we said," Rose said, "you need a better agent."
I laughed.
"What does Brady say?" Vera asked.
I shrugged and took another bite of my crepe, pulling off the toasted pieces of cheese that had oozed out of the crepe.
"I haven't told him yet."
"Really?" Vera asked.
"Really." I smiled up at her. "No point in sharing with everyone just yet."
Vera frowned. "But…you just-" she suddenly jumped in her seat. Then, she cleared her throat. "So, what else did Jessica say?"
We talked a bit more about my agent of one, then we switched to the topic of Thanksgiving the following week. Once more, Rose and Vera invited me to spend the holiday with them, but I reminded them I was flying to Washington to see my dad.
Vera left first. She kissed her wife, and as soon as she was through the door, I quirked an eyebrow in Rose's direction.
"Poor Vera'll probably be sporting a bruise from how hard you dug your elbow into her ribs."
Rose chuckled guiltily. "Hey, I get kicked in the ribs all day. She'll live."
We held one another's gaze.
"I've been talking to Edward."
With a sigh and a look of longing, Rose set down the last bit of her crepe. The look she then gave me, however, held little surprise. She smiled softly, more like the Rose I knew than the six-months-pregnant She-Devil she'd been a few minutes earlier.
"I knew there was something going on. I wasn't sure what exactly, but…it explains a few things."
"Like what a bitch I'm being with Brady?"
"You're not being a bitch."
"I'm a mess."
"You're not a mess."
"My database is a mess."
"Ah." She nodded slowly, instantly understanding the reference – one of only two people in my world who did. "The database. That…perhaps, might need some upkeep."
"He wasn't good for me," I said, shaking my head. "Not then, and…why would it have changed now, right? I just need answers. That's all. And he's been…he's been good about providing them so far. He has. He's been open…and honest and..." I swallowed. "But that doesn't mean… What's different now? Nothing is different. The same conditions which made us impossible back then are still what would make us impossible now, right? Then there was the fact that he lied to me back then, but…it was all so fucked up; for both of us."
Rose held my gaze.
"But why can't I get him out of my head? If it's so impossible, why is his file still so important?"
For one long moment, Rose said nothing. "That's the sort of question which gets answered by clearing up that database."
"I know," I smiled faintly. "But thank you, Rose, for talking me through the rest."
Rose leaned across the table and offered me another tender smile.
"Bella, I barely opened my mouth. You're figuring this out. You've had the tools for a while now. I'm your friend, but I'm not your therapist any longer."
I swallowed thickly. "If we were to blur the lines just once," I whispered pleadingly, "just once before I lose my mind, what would Dr. Rose advise?"
Rose exhaled an audible breath. "Dr. Rose would remind you that certain people and certain memories will always be your triggers, Bella. But luckily, you've learned coping mechanisms for them…which does imply that they're not good for your mental health."
I looked away from her and through the window to hide the weak tremble of my bottom lip.
"Hey," she said softly, squeezing my hand until I turned back to her. "That's what Dr. Rose, your professional therapist, might've said. Rose Lane-Stevens, your best friend, knows that the mind can't always overrule the heart," she whispered. "And all I can tell you as your friend, my love, is that you can learn all new coping mechanisms when you must, when the heart simply wants what it wants. The rest is up to you."
OOOOO
The next day, Edward and I met again at the coffee shop.
Instead of our usual table, he'd chosen a table all the way at the back, far from everyone and everything. After he pulled out my chair, he mumbled something about picking up our coffees. When he returned, he set the mugs down with only a nod in acknowledgment when I thanked him. The day was blustery and wet, and as we swirled our coffees, we both gazed through the window at the falling rain.
"It's a fitting day," he noted.
"Is it?" I wondered aloud. "It's a crappy day, the sort of day that makes it hard to leave your bed."
"Hmm," he mumbled. "Can't say I'd know about that." His eyes met mine, the green in them strangely clouded, as opaque as the sky that afternoon. "Though I assume by that statement you had a hard time extracting yourself today."
"No," I said. "I was pretty anxious to start the day. Knowing is better than not knowing, right?"
He nodded and held my gaze for a long moment. When he opened his mouth, the words which poured out didn't match his dark expression.
"You haven't touched your coffee."
I glanced down at my untouched mug. "Actually, I might order a latte. It's a latte kind of day."
He snorted and smiled. "I'll get if for you."
While he stood on line, I studied him. His long legs fidgeted back and forth, weight resting on one leg then the other. He sighed impatiently at the wait. I'd noted the bloodshot circles rimming his irises, the rings that had darkened under his eyes. His dark blazer was uncharacteristically wrinkled, and his button-down tucked haphazardly inside pants that rode lower than usual on his hips.
"What's wrong, Edward?" I asked when he returned.
He shrugged, avoiding my eyes. "It was a long week."
"You just got in this morning, right?"
"Yeah," he nodded.
I leaned in slightly, dropped my head into his line of vision hoping he'd meet my gaze.
"We really could've rescheduled."
"No point in delaying, is there?" He offered me an empty smile.
"Have you slept at all?"
"I slept on the train a bit, Bella." He sighed and raked his hair. "I'm fine."
I backed up, and for a while, we just kept swirling our drinks.
"Do you still practice your latte art?"
Edward snorted, but then a small, almost involuntary chuckle escaped him. "Bella Swan, you rarely say or act how I expect you to."
"I'm not sure what you're expecting today, Edward."
"Not a discussion on latte art. And no, I haven't practiced the art," he smirked, "in a while."
I picked up my mug and my small pitcher of milk. "Let's see."
I had vague recollections of the steps Edward performed when he used to try to impress me with his novice latte design skills. My eyes were rarely on the steps; they were on the lines of focus etched across his brow, the intensity in his gaze, the movement of his hands.
I held the cup carefully at an angle while balancing the pitcher high above it, and as I poured the steaming milk, I drew the mug higher then lower, simultaneously shifting the pitcher from side to side. The result was not latte art, per se.
Edward peeked over, and his eyes grew wide. Then, he barked a laugh.
"I would've never expected that of you, Bella," he said when he finally stopped laughing.
My face flamed, but I chuckled. "I swear that's not what I was going for. I don't even know how that happened."
"Mhm," he smirked.
"Hey," I said, feigning indignation, "you were the artist back then. I was merely the admirer."
"I was the artist, you were the admirer," he echoed with a slow nod. "You have that so backward. And from the little I know of you, you're still the creative one."
For some reason, that last statement made me flinch.
"What is it?"
"Nothing. Actually, speaking of creativity…"
I told him about Jessica Stanley and her phone call. As I explained it, Edward gave me one of those grins, the ones which started out small but then just grew and grew until they took over his entire face. Then he gazed at me with that open awe and wonder which had always warmed me from head to toe, and whose memory had almost launched me into another bout of depression when I believed it had all been a lie.
Now…now I had no idea what was going on.
"That's great, Bella. I knew it would happen for you. I always knew it."
I snorted. "Don't get too carried away. Though, I'll confess I am excited, even more so than I let on with my friends, I don't want to get my hopes up."
"Why not?"
"Look, I'm sure you've noticed I don't deal well with deep disappointments."
His eyes narrowed. "So…what? You plan to go through the rest of your life without raising your hopes too high? That's not the Bella Swan I know."
"You don't know me," I bristled. "You just said it yourself."
"That's not what I said, Bella," he said through clenched teeth, "not at all. I said I know very little of what you've been up to for the past year. That doesn't mean I don't know you."
The air between us ignited like a dangerous, combustible substance. Edward's slightly skewed nostrils flared, and he leaned in sharply over the table so that his eyes were only a few, short inches from mine.
"You can't have it both ways, Bella. You can't tell me no one knows you the way I do one day, and the next, when I say something that pulls you out of your comfort zone, tell me I don't know you. I do know you," he growled quietly. "And if this is gonna be our last meeting," he said, tapping the table between us hard with his forefinger.
"Why would this be our last meeting?"
"You wanted answers, right? Just answers?"
I swallowed hard.
"If this is going to be our last meeting," he reiterated, "I'm not going to let you walk away spouting that lie to me." Now he dug the same finger into his chest. "I know you, Bella," he repeated through a clenched jaw.
"Then tell me how you know me so well," I spat.
Fire alighted his eyes, fiery and volatile. His chest rose and fell heavily. When he pulled back as suddenly as he'd leaned forward, the gray skies behind him opened, so that the rain pelting the window disguised the erratic pounding of my heart.
"You want to know how I know you? Fine."
We dove in, mutually angry and bewildered.
"That day, I arrived at Alice's building because I was leaving the country for work, and I knew I'd be gone for a few months. Like I said the last time you and I met, she and I never got along well. Whether that was mostly my fault or not I suppose doesn't really have much of a bearing on this part." He shrugged. "She'd been quiet for the last couple of months. Too quiet. I knew my sister, and I knew that likely meant trouble in one form or another. But then I started wondering if maybe it was just me. Maybe I was just a resentful asshole who couldn't see past what her mother and our father did."
"Edward, you're not-"
'And just because she was quiet didn't mean she was up to something she shouldn't be." He snorted and grinned wryly. "What's more, she was working now. She had a great job at a small but well-respected publication, and while the pay wasn't great, it wasn't as if Alice needed the money. Neither of us needed to work for our money."
"Yet you work hard, Edward."
"Because I enjoy what I do. I've always enjoyed my job. It's a stressful job, yes, but I can immerse myself in it one hundred percent when I need to."
"And lately…you've needed to?"
He held my gaze. "You wanted to go in order, right?"
I nodded.
"Then, we'll get to that. So, I texted her and told her I'd be away for a while, and I wanted to stop by in case she wanted to…I don't know, talk? She never replied. And maybe I should've just fucking left without going to see her. Maybe I should've just…" He sighed and raked a hand through his hair, and when he spoke next, it sounded almost as if he was speaking mostly to himself. "Except, I don't believe that myself, do I?" Once again, his eyes met mine. "No more lies, right?"
"No more lies," I whispered.
"Before I even met you, Bella, long before That Day, I'd read some of your articles."
My head jerked back.
Edward's Adam's apple bobbed. "I wasn't stalking you, I promise. It was nothing like that. When she…when Alice first began working at The High Line, she sent me some of your work. She said she'd be working for you, and she wanted to know what I thought of your writing."
My breaths erupted long and hard. "What did you reply?"
"I thought the articles were great. They were immersive, enlightening…captivating."
"And what did she say?"
"She said she thought she could do better."
I shook my head and snorted. "Did you read any of my articles toward the end?"
"Yes, I did," Edward admitted. "But I read them afterward, after everything that happened."
"They were shit, weren't they?"
"You'd been under a lot of stress."
I grinned wryly. "In other words, yes, they were shit, but thanks for trying to spare my feelings. Yes, she did write better than me then. Go on, Edward. That day, you arrived at her lobby to say goodbye, to possibly build a relationship, to move past your own guilt, to provide her the benefit of the doubt, and then…what?"
"Then…I opened the door to the lobby…and a beautiful, angry woman in heels rushed past me."
"I shoved past you," I corrected. "Don't sugar-coat it too much; I do remember some."
"Fine. A beautiful, angry woman in heels shoved past me, and believe it or not," he chuckled humorlessly, "those heels were my first concern. I was worried you'd fall over."
Despite the topic, I found myself chuckling with real mirth. "I probably should've fallen over. It would've saved us all a bunch of trouble."
"No," he disagreed. "you shouldn't have. Just like I shouldn't have left the country without going to see her."
"So, what are you saying, Edward, that we were exactly where we were meant to be? With me on the verge of one of the worst moments of my life, and you on the verge of reliving a scene sickeningly reminiscent to one of your worst moments?" I shook my head. "How could any of that have been meant to be?"
He held my gaze, but when he spoke again, he didn't provide an answer to my question.
"The next thing I knew, my sister was rushing out of the elevator, looking wild and…fucking disheveled and the guy with her looked no better, and I knew, of course, what they'd been up to, and when I saw you approach them, I knew some serious shit was about to go down."
"I started yelling."
He snorted. "You started yelling, and everyone in the lobby stopped to watch. The guy with Alice rushed forward and begged you to calm down."
"My dear husband," I smirked.
"You kept cursing at him and at Alice, and…that was the first time I tried to step in."
"Why? Because I was cursing at Alice?"
"No, Bella," he hissed pushing back against his seat. "Not because you were cursing at Alice. Because I knew my sister."
I waited, and a handful of seconds later, he drew forward again.
"There's a difference between shame and embarrassment. Alice was embarrassed, but she wasn't ashamed. The more you yelled and cursed, the more her self-righteous sense of resentment grew, and I knew that the moment she lashed out, she was going to do so in the most vindictive, the most ruthless manner possible."
"Like by announcing to me and to the entire lobby that while I'd tried for the past two years to get pregnant from my husband, she'd performed the feat in a matter of a few short months."
Edward swallowed thickly, but his gaze no longer wavered.
"Yes. Like that. So, she played her ace card, and-"
"Edward, why didn't you just leave at that point? It had to be so hard for you," I said, "to watch that scene play out. Why did you stay?"
"I couldn't leave," he said quietly. "Yeah, I suppose, at first, it was sympathy; watching the both of them stand together against you, your own damn husband too much of a whipped prick to at the very least protect you from her venomous mouth," he scowled in disgust. "But then," he swallowed, "when I wrapped my arms around you to pull you off him-"
"I don't remember that," I confessed. "I don't remember you holding me. I mean, I have vague recollections in my dreams, but most of them vanish when I wake up. What I experienced in that lobby…they called it an anxiety attack with accompanying memory loss. It was…bad," I choked and quickly turned away, swallowing back the sting in my eyes.
Over the table, Edward's hand enveloped mine. After a few minutes, I met his eyes again.
"What did you say to me, Edward?" I whispered.
"I told you they weren't worth it," he replied in a hushed whisper. "I told you to let go because they weren't worth it, and I told you…"
I shut my eyes.
"Bella? Bella, come here. They're not worth it. I know you're angry, but they're not worth your getting in trouble. Come here. That's right."
"They lied to me!"
"I know, but I've got you."
I've got you…
I've got you…
I've got you…
My eyes opened. "You said, 'I've got you.'"
He nodded.
"You said it over and over, and…and I let go of Jasper, and…"
"Shh. Come here. They're not worth it, Bella. If they did this to you, they're not worth it."
"They're assholes!"
"Yes, they are. Come here. That's right. Shh. It'll be okay. I promise you."
"I promise you…"
"I promise you…"
"And you comforted me," I breathed while a silent tear skimmed down my cheek. It fell on the table between us, alone at first. Then, another one joined it because…I remembered now.
"You told me it would be okay. You promised me. You pulled me back…and you held me so tightly, you enveloped me so completely in your arms, while she taunted me and taunted me. Why, Edward?"
"She said something about how everything could've been handled in a friendly manner, and-"
"And that was when I fucking lost it, because my mother used those same damn words when she broke my father's heart," I cried quietly, "and I let loose all the pain and frustration which had been building for decades…but why, Edward? Why didn't you let go?"
He didn't answer.
"Edward, why?"
"Why?" he echoed shakily, held my hand in his grip so tightly it would've been painful if it hadn't been my anchor. The rest of his words erupted in a rush. "Do you want the absolute truth, or do you want the answer that's still true, but which will make it easier to send this file back to the goddamn end of the list? Because the absolute truth might not be something you need to hear. It's probably not what you want to hear, not now when…" he swallowed back the rest. "The absolute truth might just be for me to deal with," he added through gritted teeth. "And God help me I'm not trying to be an asshole, Bella. I'm asking you because I honestly don't know here," he said hoarsely, scrubbed a hand down his tired face. "I don't know, but I'll give you whatever you want."
My heart pounded against my rib cage. "I want the absolute truth."
"Yes, those first few moments in that lobby were a reminder of what my father did, but it was an alternate scenario."
"It was your past affecting how you saw that scene."
His nostrils flared. "It was more than that. It was the pent-up emotion that burst from you: your fury and outrage, yes, but it was more than that which made me hold on so tight. It was the courage you showed in calling them out on their bullshit instead of just hushing it up, handling it privately, in a friendly manner," he scoffed, "like she said; in a quiet corner where all's easily forgiven and forgotten. No. No," he scowled. "You stood there and gave them both a piece of what they deserved, a piece of your mind, and along with the little bit I'd learned of you from your articles, I started to piece together the most fascinating of women."
"A fascinating woman," I laughed bitterly, while my pulse raced. "You're going to tell me that's what you saw in me the day I broke?"
"Yes," he retorted heatedly. "That's what I saw. I saw a woman with so many complex sides: an imaginative wordsmith and writer who'd earned her corner office without stabbing someone else in the back for it, a defender of what was hers, a woman with the capability to love so unconditionally – even when she loved the wrong person – so unconditionally, she'd shamelessly show that love to the entire world. Someone who understood fidelity and who expected fidelity in return. Someone capable of offering forgiveness. A woman who'd fight for the family she wanted so badly she'd put herself through hell for it. And no, Bella," he gritted, "in the heat of the moment, I didn't realize I was thinking these things; of course not. It wasn't until days, weeks later when I laid my head down on another continent and wondered why I still couldn't get you out of my head. That was when I stopped to examine these thoughts. That was when I realized that I'd taken what little I knew and extrapolated so much from it…so much…" he gripped both my hands. "Bella…"
"Edward…" I breathed.
And even as I did, even as I slid my fingers through his and knit our hands together as one, even as our foreheads met halfway across the small table and rested heavily against one another, relieved, bewildered, lost and found, I wasn't exactly sure what would come next; what would happen between Edward and me after those words were spoken aloud.
But I knew they'd change everything.
"…so much that I'd fallen in love with you."
A/N: Thoughts?
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