Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.
Thanks to MauiGirl60 for being an absolute brick, and to Cared and Midnight Cougar for their continued support. Thanks to you lovely people, who I'd like to invite round to my house for drinks and nibbles, because you are all so brilliant. I'm struggling now to keep up with review responses, but please know that I am utterly floored by how positive and lovely your comments are and I savour every single one, even the simple smiley faces.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Bella groaned, unsure if the pounding she could hear was inside her head or outside the room. As consciousness beckoned, it became clear that it was a little of one and a lot of the other. Raising herself up on her elbow, she looked over her shoulder towards the door and immediately became aware of another body in the bed with her. Turning onto her back she looked over at a sleeping Riley, his fair hair standing up in tufts, a slight frown clouding his features.
The pounding got louder, distracting her from the man beside her, and she thought she could hear the muffled sound of someone calling her name. With a sinking feeling she realised it was coming from the other side of the door.
As she pushed herself into a sitting position, Riley made a soft, sort of snorting noise and turned towards her, his morning wood pressing against her thigh.
"Hmmmh, Bellllla," he croaked, his sleep-caked eyes opening slowly, one at a time. He started to snuggle closer, just as the pounding on the door grew to a crescendo.
"Bella! Open this fucking door right now, or I'll break the fucker down!"
"Oh, God," Bella moaned, easing herself out of the bed and padding across the floor to the door. "Hang on, I'm coming," she called out, her voice husky with sleep and hangover.
Behind her, Riley was now fully conscious and sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes.
"Who the hell is that?" he moaned, wishing whoever it was would just shut up and go away.
Bella ignored him, peering through the peephole to find a furious looking Rosalie, who was still banging on the door. Behind Rose, Bella saw the door of the opposite room open and a paunchy, middle-aged guy in a white hotel robe peer out, shouting at Rose to shut up.
Barely glancing over her shoulder, Rose told the man to fuck off or come tell her to shut up to her face, to which his response was to duck back inside his room and shut his door.
"Bella, I know you're there, so open the goddamned door right now!" Rose yelled, and Bella finally gave in, grasping the handle and pulling open the door.
Without another word, Rose pushed past Bella into the room, stomping straight over to the bed.
"I don't know who you are, buster, and, quite frankly, I don't much care. This girl's seventeen years old and if you aren't out of this room in the next 3 minutes, I'm calling the cops to bust your ass for statutory rape! Capisce?"
Riley stared wide-eyed at the blonde hellion standing beside the bed, threatening to rain all kinds of shit down upon his head. Swallowing audibly, he leaned forward to look around her at Bella, who was frozen to the spot in the middle of the room, a similarly appalled expression on her face.
"B-Bella? What's she talking about?" he asked, his voice a little desperate, as he could see his dream girl slipping away from him.
"Don't fucking talk to her, dickwad! Two minutes and counting!"
He looked back to Rose, her face implacable.
Shaking his head, he threw off the covers and slid his legs off the bed.
"I'll get dressed in the bathroom, if that's okay with you."
"Here, there, I don't give a fuck, just get dressed and haul ass!"
"Rose, please, it's not his fault." Bella finally spoke up from behind them and Rose swung round to face her.
"Oh, so now you want to talk! It's a pity you didn't give us the benefit last night, Bella. You," she swung back to Riley, who had paused on his way to the bathroom, "what did I tell you, get dressed, get out! And you," she said, turning back to Bella, "get some clothes on as well and get your stuff together, we're leaving!"
Bella frowned, pissed off at being shouted at, especially when she had such a ghastly headache. Rosalie was not her mother.
As she watched Riley gather up his clothes and head to the bathroom, she squared her shoulders and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Look here, Ro—"
Rose threw her hand up, palm facing out in a 'halt' gesture.
"Stop right there, Swan. Don't think I'm above giving you a slap, because I'm not. Now GET SOME FUCKING CLOTHES ON!"
Bella took a step back, her eyes wide, recognising at last that Rosalie was not to be argued with at this point.
Turning away, she started gathering up her clothes, just as Riley emerged from the bathroom, having got dressed in double-quick time.
He edged around Rose, as one would around a tethered, snarling dog, approaching Bella cautiously. Rosalie watched him with eyes narrowed, but said nothing.
"Bella, I—"
"Oh, Riley, I'm so sorry," Bella interrupted him, her voice full of contrition. She went to throw her arms around his neck, but he gently caught her wrists and held her at arm's length.
"So it's true, you really are only seventeen." It was a statement rather than a question.
She looked at him, tears making her eyes glassy. "I'll be eighteen in September," she whispered, painfully aware of how pathetic she sounded.
Riley smiled sadly, releasing one of her wrists in order to reach out and brush away a stray tear which had escaped.
"It was a joy to meet you, Bella. I hope you find what you're looking for, truly I do." He leaned in and kissed her lightly on her forehead. Pulling away from her, he turned, straightening his back and pulling himself up to his full height, which was slightly less than Rose in her high heels.
"Nothing happened last night, I want you to know that. And I'm not saying that because Bella's underage, or because I'm scared of what that might mean for me. I don't even care if you think I'm the kind of guy that would take advantage of a girl who's had too much to drink. But I do care that you think Bella's that kind of girl, who would sleep with a guy she's just met."
"You know nothing about what kind of girl Bella is," Rose tersely pointed out.
"Maybe not, but I'd hazard a guess that you don't either."
Rose nodded once, unwilling to argue the point, and accepting his word that he hadn't had sex with Bella. He held her gaze for a moment, nodding back, and then turned towards the door.
"Goodbye, Bella," he said softly over his shoulder, before opening the door and leaving the room.
Bella let out a loud, strangled sob, and dropped to her knees. She threw her hands up over her face and began to cry in earnest, and Rose finally relented.
Kneeling down beside Bella, she put her arms round her and pulled her head onto her shoulder. Bella immediately wrapped her own arms around Rosalie's waist and let all her sorrow and remorse flow out of her.
"I-I'm s-s-sorry, Rose," she sobbed.
"Shh, it's okay now, shhh." Rose stroked Bella's hair, rocking her from side to side until her tears began to let up, and she was able to calm sufficiently for Rose to let her go and help her to her feet.
"Come on, I'll help you get your stuff together. Why don't you take some clean clothes in the bathroom so you can freshen up and get dressed?" She bent her knees to catch Bella's eye, smiling a little.
Bella nodded. "My bag's in the bathroom, I'll be… I, uh, won't be long," she told her quietly, turning away and leaving Rose on her own in the bedroom.
As soon as the bathroom door clicked shut behind Bella, Rose walked over to the French doors, pulled them open and stepped out on the balcony overlooking Central Park. She retrieved her phone from her bag and hit the speed-dial.
It barely rang once before being answered.
"Rose!"
"Everything's okay, Edward, I found her," Rose told him quickly, not wanting to prolong his agony.
"What?! You found her? Oh, thank fucking Christ, Rose! Where are you? Where did you find her? Is she okay? What was she doing?"
"Calm down, Edward! She's fine, we're at the Helmsley, which is where she spent the night. She's just washing up in the bathroom and then we're going to get a cab to your place."
There was silence on the other end of the line.
"She's at the Helmsley?" Edward's voice was now deadly calm.
"Yeah, she checked in yesterday afternoon," Rose confirmed, a little perplexed by Edward's sudden composure.
"Who else is there, Rose?" Edward asked coolly.
Rose sighed. "No one else is here, Edward. Bella checked in, under her own name, using her credit card. She went shopping, had dinner and spent the night here. End of story." Rose knew some of the details, which she'd garnered from the desk clerk earlier. She had no intention of telling Edward about Riley.
"Edward?" Again, there was a long silence from the other end.
When he finally spoke, his voice was a monotone. "How long will you be?"
"Uh, not long. As soon as Bella comes out of the bathroom, we just need to gather up all her shopping bags and then we'll check out and get a cab. About forty minutes?"
"I'll see you then." And the line went dead.
"Shit," Rose whispered, just as the bathroom door opened and Bella emerged in t-shirt, jeans and her Converse. She'd scrubbed her face of the remnants of the make-up she had failed to remove the night before, which had been smudged across her face earlier, and pulled her hair up into a high ponytail, making her look like the teenager she was.
Rose stepped back into the room and wordlessly started gathering up all the shopping bags dotted about the room. Bella glanced at her a couple of times, but kept quiet. When they had everything, they left the room and went downstairs to check out. Fifteen minutes later they were in a cab heading downtown to Edward's apartment.
Rose broke the silence once they were on the move. "You should know, Bella, that Edward was really upset yesterday when you disappeared, and he was distraught last night and this morning."
Bella looked out the window, saying nothing.
Rosalie sighed. "But you should also know that that was before I found you. Now, he's boiling mad, and you should be prepared to eat some major humble pie."
Bella turned her head to look at Rose. "He can go fuck himself, Rose." She returned her gaze to the scenery passing by her window.
"Come on, Bella—have you any idea how worried—"
Bella suddenly turned her whole body towards Rose.
"I don't give a monkey's toss, Rose. Do you know where he was on Tuesday night? When he'd promised to come home and have dinner with me. When he lied to me about having dinner with a client? Do you, Rose?"
Rose nodded. "He was at Tanya's," she confirmed.
"Oh, so he told you. Well, that was nice of him. Did you know on Tuesday, Rose?"
"No, he told me this morning, before anyone knew where you were. He was so worried, Bella—really scared that something bad had happened to you. I've never seen him so upset."
Bella just shook her head, sitting straight and crossing her arms over her chest.
Rose watched her for a moment before speaking again.
"It's not like you're dating, or anything," she said quietly, trying not to sound judgemental. "I mean, strictly speaking, he's perfectly entitled to see who he wants, and Tanya is his girlfriend—"
"He fucking LIED TO ME, ROSE!" Bella cried, dashing away tears and looking away.
"I know, honey, but the stunt you pulled was way out of proportion. He called the police, you know. To report you missing."
Bella looked around quickly to see if Rose was winding her up, but saw immediately that she was being serious. She huffed and turned away again. "Whatever."
Rose sighed. "Well, just so you know, he doesn't know about your friend who stayed with you last night, and I'd advise you not to enlighten him."
Bella was saved from a response, and Rose from further conversation—or lack thereof—when the cab pulled up outside Edward's apartment building.
Bella immediately climbed out and went round to the back, where the driver had opened the trunk. She started pulling bags out as the doorman emerged to help, taking everything from her and gathering up the rest.
The three of them headed into the building and made their way up to Edward's penthouse, the escalating numbers on the elevator read-out matching Bella's increasing trepidation as they ascended.
At the top, they emerged and Rose handed the doorman a $10 bill and told him they could manage from there—she did not want him to witness a scene, should one ensue. The man nodded his thanks and left them to it.
Just as the elevator doors pinged closed on him, the apartment door flew open and Edward stood before them, his face a stony mask.
He glanced briefly at Bella, before turning his gaze to Rose.
"I owe you Rose, big time. Thank you for bringing her home."
"No problem, Edward, I'm just glad I could help." She started to walk forward as if to enter the apartment, but Edward continued to block the way.
"Don't you need to get back to the office, Rose? It's bad enough I've had to take the last two days off, I can't afford to have you spending any more time away." He smiled at her, but it didn't reach his eyes, which were the colour of burnished flint.
"Oh, well, I was just going to come in for a minute—"
Behind her, Bella shuffled forward, carrying all the bags.
"It's okay, Rose. I doubt he's going to hog-tie me and throw me in his secret dungeon," Bella remarked tiredly.
Edward's eyebrow shot up. "Don't fucking tempt me, Isabella." He stepped forward and grabbed the bags from her and then turned to go back in.
"Bella, are you sure you don't want me to come in?" Rose asked uncertainly.
"I'm sure, Rose, thanks." She looked around to where Edward had disappeared inside. "I think he and I need to talk, and this might be our only opportunity."
Rose frowned. "Why would it be your only opportunity?"
Bella laughed humourlessly. "Because Edward's got other fish to fry and other priorities. I'm pretty sure I come well down on that list, so I better strike while the iron's hot."
"Okay, I guess. But you are seriously underrating how much he cares about you, honey, trust me." She leaned in and gave Bella a quick hug, then turned to summon the elevator, while Bella went to go in. Just as she was about to close the door, something seemed to occur to her.
"Rose?"
The elevator pinged behind Rose as she turned to look at Bella.
"How did you know where to find me?"
Rose smiled. "Angela saw you going into the hotel last night—or should I say, this morning—with Riley. She was out with her boyfriend and was passing by just as you arrived. She said you were pretty drunk."
"Yeah, I suppose I was. Okay, I'll see you soon, Rose—unless Edward decides to ground me for life. And… uh, thanks, Rose… I think." She gave her a half-hearted smile and went in.
And slammed straight into Edward, who was standing just inside the door.
She let out a small 'oooph' noise and looked up in surprise.
Looking down at her, Edward's face was an impassive mask.
Bella looked away, stepping back and then around him. It felt like turning her back on a homicidal maniac with a loaded gun, and she could feel his eyes boring into her back as she walked away from him into the living room.
Making her way to the kitchen, she got herself a glass and filled it with water, drinking deeply. Filling it again, she turned, only to find Edward standing about a foot away, making her yelp with surprise.
"Jesus, Edward, are you just trying to see how many times you can scare the shit out of me?" she gasped, holding her hand flat against her chest.
Edward regarded her silently for a moment.
"It's not a nice feeling, is it, Isabella, to have the shit scared out of you?"
Bella put her glass down, clasped the counter behind her with both hands, and looked down at her feet. When Edward remained silent, she looked up at him and took a deep breath.
"Edward, I'm sor—"
"Who's Riley?" Edward interrupted, his voice low and deceptively mild.
Bella frowned with confusion.
How the hell does he know about Riley?
Ahh, shit, he was in the hallway when I was talking to Rose.
Bella mentally cursed Rose for her indiscretion, after having told Bella not to say anything about Riley.
Closing her eyes for a second, she sighed and shook her head.
"I'd really rather not talk about it, Edward," she finally responded, hoping he would leave it alone, but knowing it was a forlorn hope.
"Who. Is. Riley?" he enunciated slowly. "It's a simple enough question, Isabella."
She pushed herself away from the kitchen counter and went to brush past him so she could escape to her room. She knew she was being childish and petulant, but she really couldn't face this right now.
Edward, of course, had other ideas.
He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, looking down at her balefully.
Eyes wide with surprise, Bella looked up at him, finally noticing just how tired and drawn he looked. His eyes were bloodshot, with dark shadows beneath them. They stood out in stark contrast to his skin, which was pale and sallow, except for his jaw, which was covered in two days' worth of stubble, whilst his hair stuck out every which way. The overall effect was to make him look both sickly and Byronic and just a little crazy, and Bella felt her heart clench with guilt and remorse.
"Just tell me one thing, then." His eyes bore into hers as his hand gripped her upper arm tighter, and all she could do was nod her acquiescence.
"Tell me you used a condom when you fucked him," he snarled and Bella gasped in horror, as she tried to free herself from his unyielding grip.
"I did not… I never… you bastard!" she cried, struggling frantically now to escape.
Edward suddenly dropped his hand away from her arm and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.
"What? Was he too drunk to get it up? How sad for you," he sneered.
Bella could feel tears threatening to spill and mentally harnessed her anger to stop her crying in front of him.
"How dare you?" she hissed.
"How dare I? I'll tell you how I dare, Isabella." Edward straightened up, his hands dropping to his sides, fists clenched, his anger palpable.
"I get home on Tuesday evening, expecting a quiet night in watching a movie with you, and you are completely shit-faced at 8.30PM. By the morning, despite the fact that you were drunk the night before, I seem to be the one in the doghouse. You then pack a bag and disappear without telling me you're leaving or where you're going and then you stay out all night, without calling anyone."
Edward's voice was getting louder and more passionate.
"Then, by some miracle, Rose finds you holed up in a hotel, with half of fucking Bloomingdales in bags. She didn't say if she found you alone, but I know you spent the night with a man. So who was he, Isabella? Someone you know, did you arrange to meet him, or was he just some random h00k-up?"
Bella stared at him, speechless. He was home by half past eight? But he slept at Tanya's… didn't he?
"… think you were one of those high-class whores that hangs around hotel bars?" Edward shouted.
"Wh-what?" Bella was struggling to get her head round what Edward had said earlier and what he was now yelling at her.
"I said, Isabella, did he think you were a whore, on the prowl for a new meal ticket?" His voice dripped contempt.
Bella recoiled as if he had struck her, slapping her hand over her mouth as bile threatened to bubble up.
For just a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of something in Edward's eyes—guilt maybe, remorse—but it was gone before she could identify it, replaced by a steely, unrelenting implacability.
Slowly dropping her hand, she backed away from him, feeling the tears brimming behind her eyes, as she shook her head. She wanted to hurt him, hurt him as much as he had hurt her, but knew she didn't have that kind of power over him.
"I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment to you, Edward," she told him, keeping her voice low, fighting to keep the tremble out of it. "Why don't you go to Tanya's, I'm sure she'll help you forget what a fuck-up I am. I'll keep out of your way."
Bella turned away, not seeing the pain blossom on Edward's face. As she walked towards her room, something occurred to her and she stopped, but didn't look round.
"I'll return what I can to Bloomingdales. I wore one of the dresses and a pair of shoes, but I'll take the rest back tomorrow." Her voice was a monotone, defeated.
"That won't be necessary," he announced from where he still stood in the kitchen.
Bella turned around, a small element of hope in her heart that he wasn't going to be a complete shit.
"I'll take it to work with me tomorrow and get Rose to return it," he told her, his tone brusque, and her heart broke a little more—not because she wanted all the stuff she had bought, because, in truth, she could do without the reminder—but because it meant that Edward really did hate her and wanted to hurt her. "I would prefer that you didn't leave the apartment tomorrow."
She just nodded and carried on to her room.
"Isabella," Edward called.
She stopped again. "What?"
"Don't forget your laptop. I imagine you've got a lot of schoolwork to catch up on."
A fat tear slid down Bella's cheek, but she was determined he wouldn't see it. Dashing it quickly away, she diverted back to the living room, picked up her bag, and then went quickly to her room with her head down. She could feel Edward's eyes upon her, but didn't look up, slipping into her bedroom and quietly closing the door behind her before she allowed herself to dissolve into silent tears.
In the kitchen, Edward fisted his hair, appalled at what had just transpired.
When he'd overheard Bella and Rose discussing some guy called Riley, who had apparently spent the night in her hotel room, his worst fears, sparked by Rose when she told him that Bella had stayed in a hotel the night before, were confirmed—she had slept with someone. She had given herself to another man, and, in the unlikely event that she had still been a virgin last night, that was surely no longer the case. Some random fucker, out there walking the street, could say he'd been her first; had been inside his girl. It made his blood boil. An anger, the likes of which he had never previously experienced, even when she had stayed out late in London, took hold of Edward and a red mist seemed to descend, robbing him of rational thought. He had struck out, determined to hurt her, because the pain he felt at that moment was indescribable.
Still tugging on his beleaguered hair, he slid down the cupboard fronts and sat on the floor, his knees pulled up tight against his chest, as he finally relinquished the grip he had on his chaotic locks and wrapped his arms around his shins.
With her presence gone from the room, some lucidity returned and he began to seriously question his reaction and his motives. Had he really thought of her as 'his girl?' She was seventeen years old and couldn't remain a virgin—or single—forever, no matter how much he might want to keep her that way. But then, was he being honest with himself? Was he angry—or was he jealous? Was it that he never wanted any man to fuck her—or was it that he didn't want any man but him to fuck her?
Do I want to fuck her?
Don't be a moron, of course you do!
Isn't that why you've been utterly priapic since the moment she burst into Ms Banner's office a week ago?
Jesus-H-Christ, was that only seven days ago?
Oh God, this is so wrong. I'm supposed to be a father figure, and all I can think about is that I want to see her lying naked beneath me, my cock buried so far inside her that it would be impossible to tell where she ends and I begin.
Edward rested his forehead on his knees. He had to stop thinking stuff like that, it would do him no good. It would merely serve to drive him insane.
He pushed himself up off the floor and went to his study.
I need to work. Let that be my panacea.
Edward let himself into his study, closing the door behind him. He did not hear the sobs of the heartbroken girl on the other side of the apartment.
~o0o~
Bella's stomach rumbled loudly, but the thought of food made her feel queasy.
She was curled up on her bed, dressed only in her t-shirt from this morning and the plain, white mini-briefs she'd put on at the hotel. She'd eaten nothing since dinner the night before and a glance at the clock on her bedside table told her it was now well past lunchtime. She knew she should eat, if only to counter the effect of all the alcohol she had consumed last night, but the thought of going into the kitchen and Edward being there horrified her.
She rolled over on her back, trying to listen out for any noise elsewhere in the apartment, but could hear nothing.
Her stomach growled again, as if in protest at her prevarication, and she finally realised she would have to venture forth.
I wish I could get a pizza delivered direct to my bedroom.
Bella tiptoed across the room and carefully opened her bedroom door, peeking around the jamb to listen out for Edward.
All was silent, so she decided to take a chance and nip to the kitchen and see what she could grab that wouldn't need to be cooked.
With no sign of Edward anywhere, she assumed he was either closeted away in his study or he had, indeed, gone to Tanya's—a thought she really didn't want to dwell upon.
Checking the fridge, it quickly became apparent that Edward needed to stock up—all that she could find was a jar of pasta sauce, 4 eggs, half a loaf of rye bread, some butter spread, 3 apples, a carton of orange juice, a carton of milk—still fresh—a couple of slices of salami and 3 slices of Emmental cheese. So, there was the makings for a sandwich, although, despite the fact that she wanted to hate Edward right now, she didn't want to take the last of the filling in case he wanted it.
In the cupboard, she found cereal—Bran Flakes… bleh. Wait, what was that… Lucky Charms! A new packet, which Edward must have put in his request to Marcus. Edward, you sly dog!
Bella shook the multi-coloured cereal into a bowl, filling it up, and then splashed cold milk over it. The glass she'd left on the counter earlier was still there, so she filled it with water, and carried her make-shift meal back to her room, nearly dropping it when she heard a loud clunking sound followed by a shouted "FUCK!" emanating from Edward's study.
She froze on the spot, glancing towards the passage leading to the study, from where she could also hear various banging noises, as if Edward was throwing things around. A particularly loud, crash against the door, which sounded like glass being smashed, made her jump again and she decided that discretion was the better part of valour, spurring her to get back to her room and keep her head down.
~o0o~
Down the hall, Edward stood amidst the chaos he had created, hands on hips, breathing hard and staring unseeingly at the stripped pine door, which now boasted a large crack, whilst the shattered remnants of a large crystal dish or bowl lay all over the floor. In addition, his printer lay buckled and on its side on the floor beside his desk, along with most of the contents of said desk, which looked to have been swept clean. His chair was overturned behind his desk, and the one in front of it had apparently sprouted wings and flown across the room, landing on the couch.
Twenty minutes earlier, he had called Rose at the office to ask her about this Riley guy, but she had been singularly unhelpful, saying she had seen no one else in Bella's room. He told her he knew someone had stayed the night with Bella, and then he had asked her if she thought Bella had fucked the guy.
Rose had laughed. Laughed!
"Why do you care so much, Edward?"
He had snorted. "Oh, apart from the fact that she's underage, you mean?"
"Jeez, Edward, she's had six months of being legal in the UK, you know—and I thought you said she'd already popped her cherry, so what the fuck difference does it make now?"
"I don't care what the law in Britain says, over here she's underage, and she shouldn't be sleeping around anyway. Christ, Rose, putting aside the health issues, do you have any idea at all how complicated things could become if she got knocked up or, worse, pulled a Britney Spears and eloped?"
"Oh, come on, Edward. She may be a flighty teenager, but she's not that dumb, so for God's sake, stop getting your panties in a twist about stuff that's never going to happen."
"You don't know her, Rose, so please don't act like you do."
There was a pause at the other end before Rose responded.
"Maybe I don't know her, but I know women. And if you didn't want my advice or opinion, why did you call? I'm busy, Edward—in case you hadn't noticed, I'm the one holding down the fort at the moment, so g0 stew in your own juices and leave me alone, unless you want something important… and work-related," she finished with a huff, slamming the phone down on him.
Edward emulated her, but his office phone wasn't quite so robust as Rose's and the handset cradle broke, infuriating him. All of a sudden, his frustration and anger just boiled over and with a strangled roar he swept everything off his desk, catching the printer cable, which tipped it over the edge onto the floor.
"FUCK!"
Edward jumped up, his chair spinning back and toppling over. Striding round the desk, he picked up his visitor's chair and hurled it across the room, and as it skimmed across the top of the coffee table onto the couch, it knocked a large, very heavy, Bohemian crystal bowl onto the floor. Edward looked down at it curiously, as if he'd never seen it before, then bent to pick it up. Breathing heavily with anger and exertion, he turned the expensive piece of objet d'art slowly in his hands, noting that it was undamaged, and recalling that it had been a gift from Tanya, several years ago, before they even started dating.
Tanya—this shitstorm all started with fucking Tanya.
Pulling his arm back, he launched the dish like a heat seeking missile across the room, where it hit the door with an almighty crash, exploding on contact and showering the floor with shards of glass.
All of a sudden, Edward seemed to come back to himself, shaking his head as if to clear it. He looked around at the devastation he'd caused and muttered a few choice expletives. Deciding to ignore it for the moment, he carefully picked his way through the mess and pulled open the door, wincing as it caught and crackled on the broken glass. He stepped over it and out into the hallway, glad he was wearing his Birkenstocks, and shut the door firmly behind him. He walked down to the kitchen and riffled through a drawer containing a pile of take-out menus, knowing there was little in the fridge which was even vaguely appetising. He realised he was ravenous, having had nothing to eat since a sandwich this time yesterday, and assumed Bella would be equally hungry.
After what had been said this morning—the reminder of which immediately made him cringe inwardly—he knew Bella was unlikely to forgive him and things would be hideously awkward between them, but they had to eat and they were pretty much stuck with one another, at least for the time being.
He took a deep breath, picked up the assorted menus and made his way to Bella's room.