Chapter Fourteen – Edward

I felt completely lightheaded when we pulled away on the sidewalk in front of her building, partly from the long journey, partly from our kisses. Heat radiated from her body despite the thick coat she had on, and her smile – reflecting my own, I thought – was enough to make my heart melt. Her eyes hardly left mine since she had spotted me standing by the stage door. Her reaction was everything I'd expected it would be and more. And this reunion? So far, it was better.

She pressed another teasing kiss to my lips before she took my hand and led me inside, throwing me a sly look from over her shoulder.

It was extremely frustrating, wheeling my suitcase in a way that wouldn't disturb her neighbors and kissing her properly at the same time. If I wasn't so eager to get upstairs already, I'd stop and laugh at our situation. We couldn't get our hands off each other. Every three stairs or so I'd press her against the wall so I could deepen our kiss. Her hands would roam over my coat, urgent and greedy. I thought she got a few buttons undone, but I didn't stop to make sure. Whenever I let my lips drift away from hers to catch on my shaky breath, she would bury her head in the crook of my neck. In a hazy moment of coherence I thought there might have been certain advantages to long distance relationships after all. I couldn't stand to be away from her. I couldn't understand how I had for so long.

Finally, we reached her door. She turned her back on me as she fumbled with her bag, trying to find her keys. I wrapped my arms around her, and she pressed her back against my chest. I brushed my lips against her throat as she tried to fit the key in the lock. I let my tongue flicker over her skin before I gently sucked on it. She threw her head back and moaned when I hit a sensitive spot. I pulled away to hush her before I brought my attention back to her neck. Her apartment was the only one on the floor, but somehow I didn't think any of her neighbors would want to step outside and stumble upon this.

The sound of an unfastening lock was sweeter than music. Bella turned in my arms and our lips met again. This kiss had a different edge than all others, more urgent, playfulness all gone. I blindly felt the air ahead of us until I found the doorknob. I twisted it and we stumbled inside, still kissing. I kicked the door shut and pinned her against it. I was getting dizzy, so I gave myself a few seconds to recover and just looked at her. The flush in her cheeks was somehow visible in the darkness. I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and placed my thumb over her bottom lip. She pressed a kiss to my thumb, her eyes gleaming as they locked on mine.

"Happy birthday," I whispered, leaning down to kiss her again. We stood on the doorway for a moment, kissing fervently, before she pushed me gently backwards without breaking the kiss. I stole a glance from over her shoulder as we started a slow progress forward, but it was too dark to make out my surroundings. I could only guess where she was leading me to with such urgency.

I realized we reached our destination only when we stopped moving along the hallway. I wanted to protest when she pulled away from me and crossed the room to click a lamp on. The room washed in a golden glow. I didn't look around to acknowledge the unfamiliar bedroom. I saw only her, now back in front of me with a tiny grin curling on her lips. I returned her smile and stepped closer. I brushed a hand along one side of her face, down her cheek, her throat and downwards, meeting my other hand at the front of her coat as I slowly started unbuttoning it. Her fingers clawed at my coat again, imitating my movements with much more impatience than my own.

This was when I made the mistake of looking away from her. My eyes flickered across the room for a second, but apparently a second was all it took. I squinted, and did a double take. My entire body went rigid. It couldn't be what I thought it was, could it?

"What's wrong?" she tugged on my collar, her smile deceiving in its sweetness.

I didn't answer. I barely even heard the question. I couldn't look away. I felt as if I'd been punched in the stomach. Sudden chill replaced the warmth that had numbed my senses up until now. I felt disoriented, and not as a result of her kisses.

"Edward, what? What is it?" she asked, and there was an edge to the question now, a hint of panic, I thought. She looked over her shoulder, searching for the thing that caught my interest.

"What's that?" I asked, nodding towards the coat on the armchair in the corner of the room, thick and brown and definitely not hers.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you, thinking I'm a real idiot or something!" I didn't even realize I said it aloud until I saw her eyes widen in horror. I didn't stop to apologize. I was too blinded by fury, and by something else, something I told myself wasn't jealousy. "Whose coat is it?"

She stared at me with that same wide-eyed expression before she burst into laughter that infuriated me further. "That's what it's all about? Seriously?"

"I don't see how that's funny!"

"It's no one's!"

"If it's no one's, why is it in your bedroom?" I flinched inwardly at my rising tone. The fire was back now in double power, but it was a different fire than the one her touch had inflicted not ten minutes ago. I felt like such a fool. For two months I was mourning her loss, yearning for her. I trusted her sweet words and empty promises, I nearly went against my own brother when he suggested I'd see other people, while all the while it turned out she'd done just that.

"Edward, please, it's nothing – " she started, reaching out to touch my arm. I shoved her hand away with more force than I intended. She gasped, her eyes flying to mine. Her bottom lip began to quiver. The glimmer in her eyes looked suspiciously like tears. But I didn't fall for those. I kept my eyes on hers, telling myself I wouldn't release her until she answered.

"I babysat a friend's daughter a couple of days ago. It started raining when I was about to leave. He gave me his coat. I meant to give it back, but I didn't get a chance to."

I shut out against the tremor in her voice. Another act, nothing more. A voice at the back of my head winced at her sudden change of expression, told me I was being ridiculous. She looked so happy to see me when we met at the stage door. It couldn't be an act. There was no way. And still, knowing all that, I found myself questioning her. "A friend? Is he a part of the company?"

"No."

"Who is he then?"

"Am I under any suspicion here?" she cut me off, half incredulous, half enraged, and clearly impatient. There was a hint of mockery in the question. Then she took a deep breath, to compose herself, I thought. She stepped forward; I stopped myself from stepping back. "Do you remember that a few weeks ago you told me Jordan invited you to her birthday party?"

"It's not the same thing," I grumbled, keeping my gaze away from her.

"Do you remember what you told me on the phone that day?" she pressed, ignoring my attempt to contradict her, and inched closer. "You said there was no reason for me to be jealous, that there was no competition," she reminded me, her voice a seductive whisper. Her breath was hot; it left my skin prickling, yearning for more. "I'm telling you the same thing now," she murmured and pressed a kiss to the skin beneath my ear. My eyes snapped shut as a hiss escaped me.

I struggled not to stir when her arms tightened around my neck. She let her lips flutter along my jaw, on my cheek, my temple, my nose, burning a trail on my skin. I told myself to stay still, to resist her, not to fall for this diversion, but when her lips found mine again, any sort of resistance ceased to exist, to the extent that I didn't care if she was trying to divert me. I kissed her back with the same passion as her own. The fire felt stronger than ever, getting much deeper than just my skin. I was consumed by desire. I needed this, I needed her. That was all I knew for sure.

xoxox

I woke up the next day without remembering where I was or how I got there. I only knew this wasn't my bed or my room. A glimpse of purple across the room brought it all back. I sat up and groaned. I looked at her coat for a moment, and then I glanced at my watch. It showed six A.M, but the light that came streaming through the blinds suggested it was later, at least midday. And then I remembered I hadn't changed it when I landed. Eleven, then.

I was alone in bed. I was surprised that this fact didn't bother me, but after everything that happened the other night, it really shouldn't come as surprise. Somehow me brilliant plan had gone terribly wrong. The sweet reunion I envisioned resembled last night, but only on the surface. Even though she explained the story behind the coat I had spotted in her bedroom, I still doubted her. I wasn't sure why. A hunch, maybe, or envy that she really did seem happy here, happier than I'd hoped to find her, or maybe the result of her leaving me had made me so vulnerable my mind was building up its own visions of the truth.

I'd never been as rough with her before, but then again, my mind was in too much of a mess to care at the time. For one dreadful moment, I thought I might have hurt her, and it terrified me that I couldn't remember if I had. My mind was blank, like during a really bad hangover. I couldn't remember anything about last night, nothing concrete anyway. I was pretty sure I hadn't harmed her. She would have stopped me if I had. I would have stopped myself. No matter how angry with her I'd been, I could never hurt her. I thought I heard her cry when I drifted to frenzied slumber afterwards, but I was pretty sure it wasn't because I hurt her. Not physically, anyway.

I pulled a tee shirt over my head and got out of bed. I just sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, familiarizing myself with my surroundings. I couldn't see the coat that started the whole thing, and from some reason this fact annoyed me. It made me think I was making things up, that it was all in my head, even though I knew for a fact it was real. If any memory was concrete about last night, this was it. My suitcase was suddenly in the room, although we left it by the front door when we walked in last night. She must have brought it in at some point. This hint of thoughtfulness on her side made me feel horrible. I shook my head, as if that way I could somehow rid myself of the guilt that suddenly hit me full force. I got some fresh clothes and headed out to find the bathroom.

Everything about the apartment was unfamiliar to me, and it irritated me in an irrational kind of way. It was probably just jetlag; it was making me act funny. I just needed to calm down. I'd feel better after a shower, I told myself. And then I'd apologize. Maybe I was blowing things out of proportion. I was just tired, that's all.

The bathroom was two doors down the hall, but when I meant to open the door, I suddenly halted. Bella's voice was nothing but a soft murmur, coming from further down the hall, probably where the living room was. She was on the phone.

"Yes, I know, sweetie, I wanted to see you, too. Yes, last night. I'm not sure for how long, I haven't – I'm sorry. I do, too. I'll make it up to you, honey, I promise."

My fingers were wrapped so tightly around the doorknob my knuckles turned white. I swayed slightly, feeling the blood drain from my face. I took a deep breath to steady myself, and snuck into the bathroom. I didn't want to hear anymore. The door clicked shut behind me. The sound snapped me out of my trance as new fury began to build up within me, sending livid fire through my veins, stronger than that of the night before. I wondered how she was going to deny that. I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

It took me ages to figure out how the water system worked, but when I finally did, I let the room fill with steam before I stepped beneath the water stream. I closed my eyes, hoping it would soothe my rage, but it only made my thoughts race faster. I couldn't stop thinking about the previous night. Watching her at the stage door before she noticed me, it was almost as if she was a different person. I'd never seen her so confident among strangers. She was practically glowing, walking gracefully down the queue. She was still Bella, my Bella, but at the same time, she was also this stranger I'd never seen before in my life. I felt like a downright intruder, showing up in the middle of all this. It was as if she now had this whole other life, a secret life, I wasn't a part of.

It was useless. Anger was still bubbling within me, impossible to tame. I stood in front of the mirror for three minutes straight, trying to get a grip. Even if my suspicions were correct, I didn't want to repeat my tantrum from last night. I thought a change of tactic might work better than losing my temper. I wanted to see what she'd do. Maybe by observing her, I'd be able to see if she was hiding something. Of course, overhearing her conversation told me pretty much everything I needed to know, but a part of me refused to grasp that. I hoped her behavior to prove me wrong. I needed it to.

The door creaked open when I poked my head into the hallway. There was no noise, not even from the street, which made me wonder again if I was reading my watch right after all. It was too quiet to be midday. A delicious smell of fried eggs dominated the apartment, and I suddenly realized I was starving. I followed the scent to the kitchen, further down the hall. I only had my socks on, but somehow she still heard me coming. She was dressed up, in black tights and an oversized grey V-neck I'd never seen before. I struggled to meet her eyes; it was harder than I thought.

She smiled at me, but it was careful, guarded. "Hey."

"Are you going somewhere?"

My abrupt question seemed to surprise her. "Oh." She looked down at herself. "We're doing a matinee today so I have to be at the theatre earlier. I was on my way to wake you up and tell you that."

I forgot she wasn't in a kind of a job where she could just take the time off to be with me. This sudden realization made me somewhat baffled. Stupidly enough, it was something I hadn't thought out thoroughly while planning this trip.

"I got you some breakfast," she continued, looking at the stove over her shoulder as she offered me that hesitant smile again. Then she crossed the small kitchen and came to stand in front of me. Her stare was fathomless, pleading, and above all, hopeful. "Are you still mad?"

"No." The lie slipped from my lips with difficulty. I blinked, unsure I'd actually said it. The voice didn't sound like my own. The word sure wasn't. I was furious.

I knew she expected me to make the next step, so I closed the remaining distance between us and slowly wrapped my arms around her. The motion, although familiar, was also painfully estranged. As we stood there holding each other, I tried to assess the damage. There weren't visible bruises anywhere. She wasn't flinching with pain or shying away from me, but quite the contrary. Maybe it was all in my head then.

But one thing wasn't in my head. I wanted to see you, too... I'll make it up to you, honey, I promise.

The fact I wasn't pulling away seemed to reassure her. I felt her leaning against me as a sigh escaped her. "I'm so glad you're here," she whispered, and looked up at me. The glimmer in her eyes was familiar. "How long are you here for?"

I probably wouldn't have minded the question if I hadn't now suspected she was only asking it to pass the information on to whomever it was on the phone. "Two days."

Her smile widened at that, reaching all the way to her eyes. It was one of those smiles that had always made my heart melt, but not today. I forced myself to stay composed, to keep my gaze on hers, not to shove her away, but the truth was I could barely look at her, so let alone hold her. It irritated me that there was not a trace of evidence in her face to give her away, to reveal her pretence. It was supposed to reassure me, but it didn't.

"I have to go," she said then, and there was certain reluctance in the way she pulled away from me. I felt strangely relieved. "I'll leave you my keys so you won't have to stay locked in here. Or you can come out with me, if you want?" Her stare was hopeful.

"Actually, I think I'll just go back to sleep." I was still exhausted, and really not in the mood for sightseeing.

Whatever it was in my voice, it made her stop and search my face carefully. A hint of alarm shadowed her blissful expression, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Fine." Lying, again.

She nodded although she didn't seem convinced. Then she stood on her tiptoes to drop a kiss on my lips. I tried very hard not to wince at the brief touch. "I'll be back right after the show. Then we could go someplace." Her eyes were still on mine, now searching more fervently. Whatever she found there, it made her smile slowly fade. The glimmer in her eyes dimmed with emotion I couldn't quite pinpoint, not even after she was gone.

I went straight into the bedroom, not even bothering to look at the rest of the place. I shut the blinds until the room was swimming in darkness. Then I crawled into bed, pulled the cool covers over my head, and hoped sleep would just take me. My lack of belonging to this place was everywhere – from meeting her friends whom I'd only known from stories, to sharing her bed here. I felt strangely detached, left out, and I didn't like it. I was so used to share everything in my life with her, so when it came to her new life here, it felt odd not to take part in it.

And then it dawned on me. This was what everyone – my parents, Emmett, Claire – was trying to warn me against, why everyone had been trying to dissuade me from coming here. In a way, they were all trying to protect me from this overwhelming sense of detachment, the one that brought up anger and jealousy and now lack of sleep. But I insisted, and learned the hard way. And, of course, everyone was right. I should never have come here.

xoxox

Whereas earlier I resented the fact my visit to London would have to be short, now I was thankful for it. Even those two days there dragged unbearably, and when I was finally on the Tube on my way to the airport, I sighed with relief. Things didn't get better in those two days. We were speaking, but every word, every smile, every touch felt forced. Bella didn't go to the airport with me because she had to be back at the theatre. She seemed equally relieved to say goodbye on the Tube.

Throughout my flight back, I tried to keep the memory of her out of my mind. I didn't want to remember the way she winced after I kissed her goodbye, or the way she let her fingers linger against my cheek, forcing my eyes on hers as she stared at me with that silent plea in his gaze. I knew she was trying to make amends, but I was already set on not falling for any of those tricks. I did, the first night, and now I felt like a fool that I had.

For the first few days after I got back, I avoided everyone. I didn't have the energy to handle things, let alone speaking about it. I didn't skip school. I told myself it would keep my mind off things. I was among the last people to leave the building each evening, as I stayed there to supposedly make up things I missed during my absence. I didn't return Emmett's calls, nor Alice's and Anya's. I knew they'd all expect to hear about my romantic surprise, but just thinking of how twisted things had turned out was another hard blow to my ego. I didn't need their false pity to add on to it.

I hadn't seen Claire yet, which was a disappointment. I wanted to tell her how I now loathed London, probably just as strongly as she had. I knew that she, of all people, would understand. I stopped by her apartment a few times, but she was never in. I was thinking about sticking a post-it on her mailbox asking her over, but I kept putting it off until I forgot about it altogether. When there was a knock on my door on Saturday afternoon, I rushed to get it, thinking it would be her.

But rather, it was an extremely pissed off Emmett on my doorstep.

"Oh," I said dumbly and took an instinctive step back.

"Is that all you have to say for your defense?" He shot me a nasty glare as he let himself in. He was standing between me and the door, so escape in any form was impossible. "Dude, where have you been? Everyone is trying to reach you. I came here half expecting to find your decomposing body on the kitchen floor!"

I tried not to flinch at his rising tone. "I've been… busy."

"Try to sell that bullshit to someone else, man. Like Mom, for instance."

I felt my face grow pale. "Did she ask you to come here?"

"It was either that or getting her to fly over from Forks. I think you'll agree this alternative is better," he said, and his glower didn't cease. It made my blood curdle. "What's going on? Why are you hiding from everyone? Is Bella – "

"I don't want to talk about Bella right now."

He stared at me aghast. I guessed my outburst was a little abrupt, but I couldn't handle it. Hearing her name spoken was like a dagger to my heart, and from completely different reasons than before. "Edward, what happened?" His voice was low now, almost a whisper. He gave up the scowl in favor of a softer, more sympathetic look. "Is something wrong with her?"

"Wrong? Oh, no. Nothing's wrong. She's good. Perfect. Couldn't be happier."

"Can you drop the sarcasm for a second and tell me what the hell is going on?"

I wanted to use that same tone on him and tell him to get lost, that I wanted to be alone, that it was none of his damn business anyway. Instead I found myself say, "I think she's seeing someone else."

It was the first time I said it aloud, and the affect was overwhelming. Thinking about something and admitting it aloud were two completely different things. And this confession hurt much more than I thought it would. It took me a moment before I could even look at him again.

Emmett didn't mock me like I'd half expected him to. I wasn't sure which of his reactions would have made me feel better. "Why would you think that?" he asked, in a tone that wasn't quite judgmental. It encouraged me to continue.

"Because I found a man's coat in her bedroom," I said, instinctively narrowing my eyes at the memory. "And then I heard her talking to someone on the phone."

"Have you asked her about it?"

"I have. She said the coat belonged to 'a friend'," I stopped myself from rolling my eyes at the implausible explanation. "She doesn't know I overheard her conversation, so I don't know which excuse she might have come up with for that."

He seemed surprised. "You don't believe her?"

"Why should I?"

"Well, did she act suspiciously at all? I mean, aside for that?"

"No," my voice softened despite myself when I thought of the first second our eyes met, that ride to her place, where all I really wanted was to finally be alone with her, that first kiss on the sidewalk. "Everything was perfect until then."

"Then maybe you're seeing things that aren't really there. Maybe the coat does belong to a friend of hers. I mean, did you expect her not to make friends?"

"I don't know what I expected," I snapped, exasperated and sort of impatient. "I haven't expected it to be so difficult. She's just so… different."

My statement hung there for a moment, and he looked as if he was considering it. Then, after a while he spoke. "The way I see it, she's simply trying to adjust in a strange place. To be honest, she seems to be doing everything I tried to get you to do, but you always shut everyone out."

"So you think I'm a fool to suspect her?"

"You said yourself that it was only two minor incidents."

"I never said they were minor."

"No, they wouldn't feel like it, to you, I guess, but really, man. I think it takes much more than that to have a case on someone, let alone on Bella." His eyes were suddenly hard and poignant on mine. "This girl loves you. If you don't trust your own instincts, trust the words of your older brother. I hear it in her voice whenever I get to talk to her. This one thing hasn't changed. I'm sure of it. And whatever happened there, I think you need to pick up the phone and clear things up with her."

But I couldn't do it. I couldn't call her. I found myself lying to Emmett, telling him that I had called, and that everything was fine. I counted on both Emmett and Bella to be too busy to speak to one another so there was no real risk of him learning the truth in the near future. For nearly three weeks I avoided her phone calls, hitting the 'fast forward' on the answering machine whenever her voice came through. Gradually her messages became shorter as her voice grew more desperate. I absorbed myself in schoolwork and made sure everyone knew I was busy. I wasn't in the mood for motivation talks from Emmett or Alice. Both of them were busy as well; Alice auditioned for various dance troupes, and since Rosalie was due any day now, Emmett spent most of the time by her side. At least I had these two fronts covered.

I'd expected that after this trip to London, everything would be normal again, that my depression would dissipate and I could start living again. Instead it pulled me deeper into depression of a different sort. There was certain comfort in knowing I wasn't regressing. Yet knowing I was sinking further into something I wanted out of wasn't reassuring at all, and sort of frightening, but I didn't have the energy to even try and fight it.

It was another hopeless Thursday when I made my way upstairs earlier than usual. I looked wistfully at Claire's door, but I already knew she wasn't in. Her apartment was dark when I looked up while crossing the street.

I heard the dying sounds of the phone when I reached my floor. The machine picked up as soon as I let myself in. I was just telling myself it was about time I'd get the message on the tape replaced, that when Bella's voice came through, I literally jumped with a start.

"Edward, are you there?" The quiver in her voice was an integral part of it now. "Please pick up if you're there." There was a pause, and a sigh. "Look, you can't keep doing that. We need to talk. So please, call me as soon as you hear this, okay? I don't care what time it is or if you wake me, just… please?" There was another pause, and then, in a whisper, "I love you." Her voice broke, and the line disconnected.

I just stood there, my arms hanging limply at the sides of my body. I didn't even bother to turn the lights on. So far I'd managed to avoid her messages. Her voice weakened me, especially when she sounded so wounded. There was so much emotion there – desperation more than anything else. And this stubbornness of hers? Every other girl would give up way earlier than that. It could only mean one thing. I knew that, even if a certain part of my brain refused to process it. She had to be sincere.

And when this thought hit me, I realized what I wanted to do, what I'd had to do all along.

I grabbed the phone before I could think better of it, but before I managed to dial a single number, loud shrill tore into the silence. The receiver nearly crashed to the floor. "Damn it," I muttered, heart still racing, and accepted the call. "Hello?"

"Oh, good, you're there."

"Emmett?" It sounded like him, but he sounded different; a little breathless, I thought. "Are you okay?"

"No – I mean, yes! Perfect! Listen, do you have any plans for this evening?"

His tone was light, businesslike. He didn't sound mad like he had in the past three or so weeks. In fact, for the first time in months, he finally sounded like my brother again. "Umm, sleep?" I rolled my eyes, wondering what he was up to now. "Why?"

"Why don't you go and get yourself an overnight bag and some Twinkies and then meet me at the Mount Sinai hospital?"

And then it hit me. My heart all but flew to my throat. "The baby?"

"Hell, yeah!" He roared. Of course, Emmett wouldn't fit the pattern of a panicked man on the day his wife was supposed to give birth for the first time. "I just went out to make some calls – it may take a while. Alice is on her way here too, and Rose's parents are already here, so hurry up and get your ass over here, Uncle Edward!"

I laughed, feeling lightheaded like I hadn't had in months. "I'll be there as soon as I can," I promised. I hung up in a haze, my own problems all gone. I dashed down the hallway to pack a small bag. Then I hurried out, hailed the first taxi that pulled into the street, and rushed to the hospital.

A/N: a rather gloomy chapter with an optimistic ending, which perfectly reflect the way I'm feeling right now. My grandfather passed away on Monday – we got the phone call shortly after I posted the previous chapter. Needless to say it's been tough couple of days. Ridiculously enough, comments and reviews will cheer me up to no end. I'm always happy to know what you guys think about the way the story is going so far. See you soon x