This chapter starts off after Edward has that important conversation with Alice. He is in Bella's room, before he makes amends with her while they're at work (and after avoiding her for weeks).
Edward likes to detail his thoughts, so there's a lot of narrative here. Also, he and I agreed to try something new. Instead of repeating everything that happened and inserting his point of view, I simply wrote what he was thinking and feeling, without all of the conversation. Edward's emotions from the cemetery and cafe are revealed here, but there is also something new at the end: the next step in Bella's and Edward's relationship, which happens in her apartment.
Edward, Chapter 7
It was near dawn on Saturday morning, and I'd been in Bella's room for hours. I didn't want to leave, but I knew she would wake up soon. I relished these remaining minutes where I could enjoy the quiet: no voices pounding in my head, no noises except for the soft charm of Bella's rhythmic breath.
I will no longer deny what I feel for her. It is there, as certain as anything else in my life. My love for Bella is as entrenched as other essential parts of my being: my musical talent, my knowledge, my scientific vocation. It's a significant, if new, part of me. And though I know this as sure as I know my own name, I have no definite notion of whether it is reciprocated.
So, therein lay the problem. Bella would permanently be in my life, but would I be in hers at all? I would always watch her, and watch out for her. As long as I existed, my purpose would be to keep her safe and somehow ensure her happiness. I had to face the possibility, though, that happiness for her might not involve me. What, if anything, did she feel for me? Many times since I'd met her, I thought I saw something in her eyes, like a small flicker of affection. Whether this had potential for anything more grand, I couldn't say.
Several times, she had come in contact with my cold, dead skin. She seemed shocked by its unnatural state, yet she had voluntarily touched me several times since the day in the pharmacy when our hands reached for those syringes at the same time. At least, perhaps, she was no longer put off by it.
Certainly now, she suspected more. She had seen evidence of my tremendous strength. But rather than run, Bella seemed determined to stay connected with me. She said she wanted the truth. Based on what I'd come to know of her, this wasn't idle curiosity. I got the sense that she was doing her best to understand me, and asking for my help with that.
Or maybe I was only projecting. It could be my wishful thinking. I was almost completely sure I would never hurt her, but as long as there was even the most minute chance I would lose control, I had to be constantly vigilant. I could never minimize the danger she is in when she's with me. And if she was to know the truth, she needed to accept that important fact as well. I had to make her understand that whatever presence I had in her life would always be shadowed by the reality of my existence
Quickly, I left before she awoke. I wouldn't see her at work until next Friday morning, after my shift was over and she arrived for hers. In the meantime, I would come at night and watch, simply taking pleasure in her presence as she slept. I no longer needed any pretense or senseless excuse. I allowed myself to admit I only wanted to be there with her.
Later in the week, I went hunting with Emmett and Jasper. Alice had told Jasper of our conversation, and that her visions had resumed their previous themes of Bella and I together in various settings. Jasper still disapproved; he could not understand why I would pursue this relationship, feeling as I did about Bella's mortality.
"It's inevitable, Edward," he said in his Southern drawl. "Either she will die or she will become one of us." I knew he didn't mean to be unkind. Jasper's past, both human and vampire, includes years of military strategy. He thinks very logically, and usually in a results-oriented fashion. The only time he detours from the practical is with Alice, who embodies whimsy. Their relationship seems to be the kind that works because they are such opposites.
"Jasper, how would you handle this if it was you and Alice?"
He shrugged. "I wouldn't."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I wouldn't get involved with Alice if she was still human. If her blood was as sweet to me as Bella's is to you, well, I'm afraid I would do what comes naturally to me." He regarded me apologetically. "I'm sorry I can't be of more help, Edward. You know I look at this quite differently than you. I do not wish any misfortune for you or the girl. I simply believe you are putting yourself in one thorny predicament."
Emmett had an earthier take on the situation. "So, what – you're just going to stay friends? Platonic, I mean?" He looked at me sideways, and I saw exactly what was in his mind.
"I'm not sure I can consider anything else. As far as I'm concerned, we'll be more than friends. But the physical side to this relationship – well, it's probably going to be close to nonexistent," I said.
Emmett couldn't fathom a world where that would happen. He shook his head. "Forever is a long time to give up sex," he said solemnly.
"She won't live forever, Emmett," I retorted, and immediately felt the sharp truth of those words.
"Yeah, but in the meantime, you're going to continue this monk-like existence? I don't know how you can deal with that. I don't know how we can deal with you dealing with that," he grumbled.
Emmett was worrying about this a lot more than I was. He and Rosalie were frank and open about their sex life, to put it mildly. The notion of a higher love was lost on him.
I could hear his confused thoughts, so I knew what he'd say next. "Anyway, don't you even want to?"
"For crying out loud, Emmett, of course I do. I'm not wholly made of stone." I was painfully aware that I was the only member of my household without any carnal pursuits. I've heard reminders of it loud and clear for around 90 years. Now that I found someone I'd like to explore that with, she was untouchable -- for me, anyway.
"I could probably resist the thirst, but I'm afraid I'd really hurt her. I can't stand the thought of losing control and injuring or even killing her," I added, shuddering.
"That's really too bad, bro, because if there's anything you could use, it's the opportunity to lose control," he said sympathetically.
"Thanks, Emmett," I said sarcastically. I knew he was attempting to be supportive. Emmett took a constant, if perverse, interest in my lack of sexual activity. He never understood why I wouldn't partner with a female vampire from another vegetarian coven we were close to. They live in Alaska, and for years, Emmett tried to talk me into dating any of the women, even casually. One of them, Tanya, was actually very interested in me, but as with Rosalie, I did not reciprocate. I couldn't abide the thought of spending time with a woman just for the sake of sex. It seemed wrong to consider her in only that way, although Tanya made it plain on many occasions that such an arrangement would be fine with her.
I didn't know if things would even get to a point with Bella where sex would be an issue. I decided not to be concerned about that now; I had enough other things to worry about, like whether she would even speak to me after the cold shoulder I'd been giving her these past several weeks.
The day arrived when we would next see each other at the hospital. My stomach, which is normally not very reactive to my life's events, now served as my nerve center. I could feel the anticipation there, most of it concern over what her response would be.
Bella arrived and walked slowly to her desk, a slight frown on her face. She appeared to be deep in thought. I plunged ahead with mending the fence I had broken so thoroughly.
"Good morning, Bella." She whirled around to face me, reacting as if I'd stabbed her. Her furious response was justified; she had to be incredibly angry that I had done another 180-degree turn and was friendly to her again. I tried to explain myself, but I did a miserable job of getting my point across before Janice entered the pharmacy and killed the mood. I promised Bella we would talk more, and I hoped she could at least have faith in my words.
Returning to her house that night, I saw her cycling clothes laid out and her helmet left on the kitchen table. She must be planning a ride, so I decided to go home for awhile and then come back in the morning to follow her. I remained outside in her yard for hours until the late afternoon, when I saw her leave through the back door. She rode off on her bike and turned south on Route 101.
I took off, staying on the ground when there were plenty of trees for cover and jumping through branches higher up where lawns or homes left too much visibility. I noted with frustration that she stuck to the highway. What a stubborn woman! Annoyed with her lack of regard for safety, I turned off the road and ran home to get my car.
Driving back, I almost missed her until my discerning eyesight picked her out at a distance in the cemetery. Why was she here? I pulled the car off the paved entrance, silently closing the door and slipping into the woods. She was inspecting the headstones and making etchings from some of the markers. I knew she liked history, so I surmised this was for her own research. She was so purposeful that I knew she wouldn't see me.
I planned to stay as long as she did, but I hadn't thought out what I would do when she prepared to leave. Should I make my presence known? It would be a good opportunity to speak with her and fulfill my promise to talk, but what excuse could I give for being at the cemetery? As I mulled over my options, I detected another scent-- the unmistakable stink of a wolf. I saw it at the edge of the woods, walking toward Bella. Panicked, I stepped out of my hiding place and called out to her. She had already spotted the animal.
The moment it stopped growling and began a roaring bark, I realized it was one of the werewolves from the Quileute tribe. I heard its thoughts and knew it to be a member of the Black family and scion to a ruling elder. The animal let loose with a stream of invective to warn me away from Bella.
"Why did you come here, leech? You know what will happen if you harm any human. You make one move and you're done. Come on, I'm waiting, bloodsucker. I'd be happy to be the one who takes you down. You'll never get the chance to hurt her. Let this be a warning to you and your family. We are watching. You can't come on our reservation but you know we can come here. "
In the midst of the wolf's snarling, Bella stood up. Horrified, I told her again not to move, but she didn't listen. Instead, she moved backwards, toward me. It was as if she knew that I was the wolf's real target, even though there was no way for her to be certain the animal wouldn't attack both of us. I wished again that I could read her thoughts, if only to prove conclusively that she was as insane as she seemed to be right now.
"Keep walking toward me and stand behind me. Stop when you reach me. I can't see you and I don't want to turn my back on him," she instructed me. The only other time I'd seen her so self-assured was when she fought Janice's bullying. Worry, admiration, love and irritation welled up in me, all at once.
Bella and I were now exactly lined up, with me towering over her. I registered the wolf's surprise at this. He apparently hadn't counted on the fact that she might not be in danger with me.
"This isn't over, bloodsucker, not by a long shot. She'd better get home safely," he said in one final snarl before loping back to the woods.
When he was gone, Bella collapsed to the ground. Moving at vampire speed, I got down in front of her and took her hands in mine, wanting so much to offer her warmth and comfort instead of my cold marble grasp. There was nothing I could do to change that, so instead I focused on helping her get her bearings. Fortunately, she'd brought a water bottle with her; she seemed somewhat restored once she took a drink.
Naturally, she questioned my presence in the cemetery. Rather than get into it here, I took her bike and recommended we head to the café in Forks, using my car. I was worried that she was in shock, so I wanted to make sure she had something to eat and drink.
Bella was silent as we drove the short distance to the café. Mercifully, her scent, while stronger due to the exertion of cycling, wasn't overwhelming. My nighttime visits to her apartment surely helped. I glanced at her as often as I dared, taking in her expressive eyes, flushed cheeks and full lips. She'd pulled out her ponytail so her hair wandered haphazardly down her arms -- the same absent-minded gesture she'd made the last time she was in my car. Again, I had a nearly irresistible urge to brush her long locks past her shoulders and tuck the stray strands behind her ear. If I gave in, I knew I wouldn't stop there; I'd slowly caress the apple of her cheeks and then brush my thumbs gently, repeatedly, over her lips. Oblivious to my fantasies, Bella stared thoughtfully out the window as we approached the café.
Though superficially polite, the hostess fantasized a series of vulgar mental images each time she looked my way. I tuned her out and asked for a private table. I didn't want either Bella or I to be inhibited by the concern that other patrons would overhear us. This conversation was going to be pivotal, our time together too important. I prayed to whatever God of immortals there may be to let her hear me out and comprehend why I hadn't trusted her with the truth. Disclosing my supernatural existence was bad enough; she may well think I'm mentally ill. My real reason for evading the topic, however, was selfishness. I was worried that once I told her, she would avoid me at all costs, whether she believed me or not. Stupidly, I thought putting her off would somehow enable us to stay friends. I should have realized that Bella deserved more; she deserved the candor she desperately wanted.
I watched as she drank and ate, her eyes reclaiming more of their usual sparkle. While I concentrated on finding the right way to start, Bella spoke up first.
"How did you know I was at the cemetery?" For the first time today, I detected fear in her eyes as she awaited my answer.
I promised her I would tell her what she wanted to know. I'd already made a similar vow to myself, to stop escalating the lies that were characterizing my relationship with her. But I still couldn't bring myself to state anything directly in the way I knew she'd prefer. While I struggled for the nerve to speak honestly, I was also massively distracted by her presence. It wasn't the scent of her blood, which affected me only a little right now. No, it was simply being here with her in this small booth. The longer I drew it out, the longer I could stay with her. I let myself imagine, a little, that we had a blessedly normal relationship.
This was part of the life I could never have: sitting in a small restaurant with a woman I adored, engaged in conversation. If only there were some way we could be just another couple who stopped here for a bite to eat after the movies. Except I didn't eat, the earlier part of our "date" was in a cemetery where we escaped from a wolf, and our table talk centered around my confession that I am a vampire.
Bella chewed her burger thoughtfully while I described how I followed her, first on foot. I tried to explain that I trailed her out of anxiety for her safety. She'd realized the wolf's real target and seemed dismissive of my concern. Apparently, she was unaware of the dangers posed by young, unrestrained werewolves. I didn't reveal all that he'd said; I thought that would be too much for her. But I did tell her the wolf believed she needed protection from me "because of what I am," as I explained it, calmly as I could. So much for prolonging anything. We had arrived at the heart of the matter in a very short time.
She rephrased my offhand statement as a question. "The wolf...knows what you are?"
"Do you?" I asked quietly.
To me, it was the most important question ever. I waited for her answer...
...and she made me work for it. My dignity was way down my list of priorities right now, so I begged her, imploring, "Please, don't make this difficult for me." Her eyes softened measurably, and after a cryptic remark about how I was "more worried about this" than she was, Bella finally let me into the thoughts I couldn't read.
Her arrival at the truth was an elementary exercise in deductive reasoning, brilliant in its simplicity. Listening to her describe how she had pieced it together and matched the two universes of science and fantasy, I marveled again at her intelligence, appreciating it all the more for how much it had upset my staid existence.. Like me, she was both cursed and blessed with a logical mind, so she relied on the type of process that had served her well throughout her schooling and professional life. She considered all the elements and organized them, fitting the parts of the myth into the parts that were ruled out by science. Where the science failed to provide an answer, she looked to the ancient stories for more information. Somehow, she'd learned of the treaty with the Quileutes. She figured out that my family comprised the most likely candidates for the group of outsiders who frightened the local tribe so many years ago. All she wanted was for me to affirm her conclusion.
I looked for signs of fear, disgust or disbelief, but there were none. Bella's expression remained thoughtful and empathetic. There was relief in her eyes at finally having the explanation she'd wanted for so long. I could see this was difficult for her, but she seemed more concerned for me and not herself. If she was extending herself to me so generously, maybe she could give me the benefit of the doubt and understand that my regard for her well-being was truly paramount. Despite my selfish desires, I would leave her alone if she chose. It would hurt, but I would accept it as long as I knew for sure that she did not think I lacked a conscience and decency, even if I had no soul.
Occasionally, some flashes of the wit that I loved came through; it was then that I began to trust she was coping with this. I had already surmised that humor was a tool she used to adjust to certain situations. Cautiously, I began revealing, piece by piece, the particulars of my other capabilities: my discernment of her scent and my ability to read minds, excluding hers. I watched her intently, yet with every revelation, she remained calm even when she couldn't help but look shocked. Consideration, humor, compassion – her qualities remained right there with the incredulity she mostly hid from me.
At one point, she put her hand on mine. Reflexively, I started to withdraw, then stopped. I knew I should acknowledge her bravery in reaching for me and overlooking my cold touch, so I decided to enjoy her warmth and softness, not knowing if I would ever have it again. Savoring this pure pleasure, I gazed at her delicate fingers, then reluctantly set my hand back in my lap for whatever came next.
I had to remind Bella that she must never forget how dangerous I am. I loved her too much to forgo warning her about the instability of my nature and impulses. I wished with every part of my being that she would know I meant it when I said I never wanted to hurt her. Intent and instinct can be at odds with each other, though, particularly when the pull of her blood was ever present. It was irresponsible for me to want her when the monster within was biding its time, waiting to win.
The hours went by; to me, it was all too brief, but I could see her exhaustion. Much as I wanted to keep her there and hear more reassurance that she didn't despise me, I had to let her go for now. The emotions and shock of today's events were clearly wearing on her, in spite of her calm. I had no idea what would happen tomorrow. Would reality sink in and send her packing back to New Jersey? That was a risk already taken. The rest was up to her.
We left the café and drove to her apartment. I wondered briefly if she was reconsidering the promise she'd made that whatever I was, she would accept me. I knew what I wanted – her – but I had no idea if it was safe to say that. Perhaps her tolerance would not extend beyond friendship. I would be devastated but I would understand.
As I was reflecting on this, Bella said softly, hesitantly, "I'll probably need some time because of the magnitude of it all." That was reassuringly reasonable. And then she stunned me by asking, "Will you help me with that?" She wanted my help? I grew cautious even as I was thrilled at the implication: that meant we would be together somehow. Without reading my mind, she addressed my concerns about the future by asking me to trust her. She wanted honesty and forthrightness, and she wanted me to have faith in her ability to understand all of this. This long speech of hers was spoken in an almost angry tone, though I understood it was not that at all. She was telling me in the clearest voice possible that she expected some things in return for her loyalty. Bella believed she was laying out a litany of demands, but to me, she was offering keys to unlock her thoughts and feelings – the very things I'd been trying to access since I laid eyes on her. Her stipulations were the best bargain I'd ever been dealt.
Astonished, I listened as she told me firmly that I was not to make any decisions on what was best for her without talking to her first. My selfish nature exulted in that; my sensible side worried about how I could responsibly adhere to it. The rational knowledge that this could well be very bad for her was warring with my emotional need to have her with me. Bella told me in no uncertain terms that she wanted me to be straight with her from now on. I wasn't sure if that meant there would be a "from now on," and she admitted she didn't know what the future held, either. "What does happen after this?" she wondered out loud.
It became obvious that she wanted something similar to what I longed for. Bit by bit, tiny amounts of hope began seeping through my hard, impermeable surface. They settled gently at my center, right near the self-loathing and anger I'd held on to for nearly a century. And then Bella delivered the final antidote to my fear that I could never mean anything significant to her. Lovingly, she recited the good she'd seen in me in the short time we'd known each other. I was in such a stupor of disbelief that I almost missed her next question.
"Can I touch you?"
Numb from shock, I finally registered her words and slowly said "Yes." My right hand was on my seat next to my right leg, resting on the leather. Bella reached over with both her hands and covered it, sliding her left one under and leaving her right hand on top of mine so our fingers were perfectly lined up, in the same exact position. Her small hands completely encased mine in a gesture at once protective, inviting and reassuring.
As if the day hadn't already given me my fill of incredible events, Bella then added one more demand: "I don't want you to stay away from me."
Maybe I hadn't had the "normal" date with her that I'd craved earlier, at the cafe. But I could feel the beginnings of a path to working out what was normal for us. She wanted me with her. Me. Bella could have her pick of any male in the state of Washington, and she chose me. I wanted to sing out every bit of the ecstasy coursing through my body, but I was afraid of scaring her off. So I answered her simply with, "I won't."
We departed at that point. There were no plans made right away, yet I knew we would be together again soon. I planned to return at night anyway, to stay with her as she slept once again, but I was now confident that there would also be a time for that when both of us were conscious.
I left the apartment at 8 a.m, not knowing when Bella planned to awaken. I knew that on weekends, she preferred to sleep in, but rather than take the chance, I decided to watch from the outside, in my typical perch on a branch. Her alarm went off at 8:30, and I saw her wake up willingly. Averting my senses while she showered, I saw her promptly leave the house at 9:25, and followed her as she drove the Subaru to a local church.
Here was another surprise; Bella seemed full of them. She was indeed headed to a service; she parked her car and entered the sanctuary of the Episcopal church in Forks. Why? What kind of answers was she searching for? This was unnerving. Was she mulling the religious implications of keeping company with a vampire? That didn't bode well for me.
I waited patiently; the service was over after an hour. Right by her car in the parking lot, there was a large elm that provided ample cover. I was in a branch that was high enough to keep me from anyone's line of sight, but low enough where the foliage didn't impede my ability to see her.
Bella rounded the sidewalk from the front of the church and walked slowly to the parking lot in the back, working her way to her car. She kept her head down and avoided other parishioners. I was certain she hadn't come to church before; I would have known that. Even from my distance, I detected something off about Bella's usual scent. And then I saw she was crying; my hyperactive sense of smell had picked up the saltiness of her tears.
Agonized, I watched her work at keeping her bearings while she unlocked her car. Once she was in, she looked around – perhaps to see if anyone was close? I couldn't know – and then leaned over her steering wheel, resting her forehead on the top. Judging by the vigorous way her shoulders were shaking, I knew she was now crying very hard.
I rooted myself to the tree, digging my fingers into the branch and the trunk. I had to anchor my body as tightly to it as possible, to keep from yanking open the door to her car and taking her in my arms. It had to be something related to me; I was with her for almost 24 hours yesterday, and I knew of nothing else catastrophic in her life right now. Yet again, I damned whatever it was that enabled her to block my ability to read her thoughts.
I watched her helplessly for about 15 minutes, until she picked her head up and stared straight ahead. The tears had abated. Bella squared her shoulders and heaved an enormous breath, and the evident determination of those actions pierced my dry heart more powerfully than watching her cry. She drove away and I followed her home from a slight distance.
I wanted very much to know what was happening, of course, but I couldn't just pop in and ask her. Instead, I ran home to find Alice. She might see something that would help me figure it out. Much as I wanted that normal relationship with Bella, I wasn't above using the supernatural to help me get to it.
Alice wasn't on the first floor; I hoped she and Jasper weren't somewhere they couldn't be disturbed. But he was playing a computer game with Emmett, so I ran to their room. She was sitting peacefully, cross-legged on a loveseat, waiting for me.
"It's okay," she said immediately upon seeing my face. I released the tension I'd been holding throughout my body without being aware of it, and sat down heavily on their bed.
"She went to church for strength. She didn't know where else to turn. The tears are because she doesn't know how to help you," Alice explained, then added, "I saw you were confused about something related to Bella, so I looked for it."
I nodded. It somehow seemed in character for Bella to seek comfort in spirituality. "I was very worried there, for a lot of reasons," I admitted.
"You know she'd never tell anyone, let alone a priest," Alice admonished me.
"Yes, but what if something in the service encouraged her to stay away from me? Organized religion isn't very big on demons and monsters. She might have been inspired by a particular reading or sermon," I pointed out.
"She was, but it's all good. The readings had a lot to do with forgiveness and acceptance. You should go and talk to her about it," Alice said, giving me a gentle shove with her foot.
Acceptance. How many times had I said or heard that word in the last day? I suppose there could be a worse theme for my life. If Bella was going to accept me, I also had to accept her, and that included whatever came with the shock she was surely feeling after our intense time together yesterday.
I returned to Bella's apartment late that afternoon, as dusk was approaching. I carefully ascended an evergreen in the middle of the yard. From here, I could see into her kitchen, and I quickly spotted her at the sink, her head bent over whatever she was doing – washing dishes, I assumed.
I hadn't intended to speak directly with her tonight, but fate had other plans. After a couple of minutes Bella looked up and smiled, gazing around the back of the yard. It seemed as if she was simply appreciating her surroundings. Her glance moved straight in my direction and she froze, staring at me.
I quickly jumped over to the next few trees while Bella flew out her back door and ran to the railing of the deck. She looked around the treetops and whispered, "Edward?" Frowning, she scoured the early evening sky, trying hard to see me.
I couldn't believe I had been so careless. Distracted and worried over her crying earlier today, I'd chosen a branch with a lot of open space that faced the back of her apartment.
I slipped quietly out of the tree and plopped down on the deck behind her, letting my shoes make a soft noise. She whirled around and said, "What are you doing? How long have you been here? Why didn't you tell me you were here?"
"One question at a time," I said, walking over to her and leaning against the railing. I was trying to project a casualness that I definitely did not feel. "Which would you like me to tackle first?"
"You're really going to answer me without running away or coming up with some evasive excuse?" she said, eyeing me suspiciously.
I rolled my eyes and said, "I think we're a little past that now."
"True. Okay, then, take my questions in order." She pulled her sweater tight against her middle.
"You look cold. Do you want to get a coat?" I asked
Bella turned away from me and said, "Let's just go inside." She opened the screen door and looked back at me, waiting expectantly.
I hesitated, still by the deck railing. Being close to her outside was one thing; entering her apartment, where it was just the two of us and her scent was all over, was quite another. Then again, I'd stayed with her numerous nights for many hours and I was able to competently resist temptation.
She waited, her expression growing impatient. "Will you join me?" she asked pointedly. "I don't bite. I promise," she added, a mischievous smile playing around her full lips.
Bella could make me laugh harder, and more often, than anyone else. And with that, I decided I would go inside with her, and that it would be fine.
She motioned to one of the chairs in the kitchen and then walked to the stove, where one pot held marinara sauce and another, boiling water. Wordlessly, she dumped some ziti into the boiling water, stirred it, and then set a timer.
"If I'm interrupting your dinner, I can come back another time," I offered.
"No way. You've been found out, you're here now, and I'm going to take advantage of that," she said calmly.
I sighed in an exaggerated manner. "Did you say you wanted me to answer your questions in order?"
"Yes, please."
"I came here because I was worried about you, again. Not your safety this time, your emotional well-being," I said, speaking an approximate half-truth. The rest of it was just my insatiable need to be with her. "Yesterday, you expressed your thoughtful concern for me, but our talk couldn't have been easy for you either, and I wanted to make sure you were okay."
She nodded her head once, graciously. "Thank you. In all honesty, I am still kind of shaken up, but I think it's settling in."
"Second question: I've been accompanying you, however anonymously, almost all day."
Her eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed suspiciously. "You followed me when I went out this morning?"
"Yes. And to answer your third question, I didn't tell you because I didn't know how you would react to my being here."
Bella actually laughed at that. "Well, that was real effective, wasn't it? You're about to find out anyway."
I smiled. "I hope so. I do want to know what you're thinking, even if it continues to make life difficult for me." And what a lovely difficulty it is, I mused. I would live with it the rest of my unnatural life, and be grateful for every second.
She screwed up her features and regarded me with some irritation. "Why didn't you just call me and ask me if you could come over?"
Because it was less complicated for me to take the easy way out. "I don't know," I responded.
"Did you think I would say no?"
The odds were not in my favor. "Probably." She waited for a further explanation. I debated how much to say and then decided to really throw it out there. "There are times when you're at you're most fascinating if you don't know I'm here."
Bella looked startled, then alarmed. "What do you mean by that?"
I hesitated and looked at my hands. "I come here very often, almost every night."
The timer went off. Saved by the bell? Not quite. Bella stared at me, eyes huge, while she stood up and backed toward the stove.
"Please turn around so you don't walk into the flame," I advised her.
She drained the pasta in a colander and then walked over to me, apparently doing her best to keep her temper under control. "Have you been spying on me?"
I set my lips in a thin line and said, "I guess you could call it that."
She blew out a breath that emphasized her disgust. "You know how you told me I should be afraid of you?"
"Yes," I said slowly.
"Well, this is accomplishing that better than anything else I've learned about you," she informed me. "You've been stalking me!"
"It's really not like that--" I started to say.
"Yes it is like that! Edward, it's creepy!"
"No," I said firmly. "Let me explain." She nodded, with a look that said "Please do." "I started out watching--" I began to say, then saw how her expression grew more infuriated. "Okay, scratch that. Remember how I told you I was worried that you suspected something about me? And how I was very concerned that I couldn't read your mind?" She nodded again, expectantly.
"I came here to find out whatever was possible about your thoughts. I wanted to know who you talked to, and whether you had discussed me with anyone. And yes, before too long, I realized you were very discreet. It had to be that, because you certainly could never be called inattentive," I explained, smiling at her as warmly as I could.
Bella's face remained stony. "And then, honestly, after awhile – a short while -- I kept coming because I enjoyed your company, even if it was very one-sided. I couldn't stay away," I explained, hoping somehow this would thaw her. I began to worry I'd caused an offense I couldn't recover from.
"I never did anything improper – I mean, I never watched while you were doing something I should not see. I respected your privacy, at least in that manner," I said. "Please believe me. I would never – never – do that," I entreated. I was desperate to have her trust that I could be at least that honorable.
After a minute, she said slowly, "Alright. I believe you. I just don't understand why you had to commit all these illegal – not to mention immoral" – she said, frowning darkly – "deeds when all you had to do was ask me."
I regarded her with some shock. "As far as I knew, you hated me, maybe even were repulsed by me."
Now Bella looked stunned. "I never hated you. Never. I was angry with you plenty of times, but I honestly never felt hate for you."
I didn't say anything else for the moment, relishing this admission. "I don't want to interrupt while you're explaining this, but how did you get in here?" she asked suspiciously.
"It's very easy to get through your door even when it's locked. You really should take care of that," I chided her.
Her eyebrows went up. "Who else is out there just dying to get into my apartment? When did my address get to be such a desirable destination for supernatural beings?"
"I think that so-called lock can be very easily broken by someone who's nowhere near as strong as I am." I glanced away for a second. "Look, I had no right to come here. I have no right to invade your privacy. I was wrong to do that." She watched me intently. "And I apologize. I'll leave if you want me to. I'd understand." Please, please let her understand, and not ask me to go, I begged silently.
She shook her head. "No, I don't want you to go. You're here, and as I said, I'm going to take advantage of that." Now she looked at me curiously. "When was the last time you dated a woman?"
Well, this was a unique shift in the conversation. "Why would you ask that?" I said, amused and anxious at the same time.
"Any recent experience with a girlfriend would have taught you that stalking someone is not attractive. Quite the opposite, in fact."
"It wasn't stalking."
"How is it different?" she challenged me.
"First of all, I didn't do it with the intent to control or abuse you. Second, I had my own welfare, as well as that of my family, to worry about. I had no other way to know if you might reveal your concerns about me to anyone else. I started off needing information. It wasn't until later that I realized I really wanted to know you," I said, almost whispering that last sentence.
She was about to say something when I held out my hand to stop her. "And even after we spoke, I couldn't discern how you felt about me. I could never be sure you would be interested in me."
Bella's eyes softened. "That's how people do it, though. You take that chance on someone."
"Most people are not vampires," I explained gently. "You knew I was different. I thought you were repulsed by my skin, or my coldness."
Understanding washed over her features and changed her demeanor. She nodded her head. "Now I see. You thought that would turn me away?"
"Exactly, yes."
"Well then, you didn't get to know me as well as you believe you did." She kept her gaze locked in mine, steady and level.
I didn't have a reply to that. I didn't need one. I just smiled at her, slowly, and enjoyed being able to finally look her in the eye without worry.
A few moments went by. "If you only knew..." she said softly, shaking her head. Knew what? Don't keep it from me, I was about to say, but she spoke again.
"How is it for you now? Your..." she floundered for the right words.
I figured out what she was getting at. "My desire to drink your blood?"
"Okay, since you put it that way, yes."
I smiled again. "I think it might be good if we don't dance around it. Speaking plainly injects a certain reality into this situation."
Bella laughed. "Yes, a completely unreal level of reality." She waited for my answer.
"I wouldn't say it's gone. It will probably never go away."
"So you've told me. But you've come here at least a few times, and you haven't killed me," she noted.
"Your safety is always in jeopardy when you're with me," I said emphatically. Her face fell a little; I hoped it was because the thought of staying away from me made her sad. "The more I am around you, though, the more I become used to your scent. That helps make it a little easier." I was redefining the term "mixed messages" here.
"Then maybe it would be good if we spent time together. And you don't have to skulk around in trees or illegally enter my home. Let's try a more typical approach," she said, grinning. No longer dormant, my hopes soared with her optimism.
Bella returned to the sink and finished preparing her dinner. "Would you like some pasta?" she asked.
"No, thank you."
"It's actually pretty good, even though I made it myself." Still smiling, she poured some pasta in a bowl and ladled sauce over it.
"No, thank you. I don't eat – well, not what you eat."
Bella turned toward me quickly, shocked. "You don't eat human food? Ever?"
"No, I don't need to. And as far as Carlisle has been able to determine, we don't have the capacity to digest it."
She stopped what she was doing, inexplicably upset, and I struggled once more with the frustration of not being able to read her mind.
"Please tell me what you're thinking. Why do you seem so unhappy?" I asked.
Bella sighed. "Cooking is probably the one quantifiable skill I have, and it does me no good with you," she said.
I laughed with relief. "I've already seen that you're good at plenty of things," I responded. "While we're on the subject of eating, though, there is something important that I want to tell you. My family and I are quite different from most vampires. We don't drink human blood; we exist on animal blood." She stopped, fork in midair, and regarded me in amazement. "None of us want to hurt people. We hunt animals. We've learned to use their blood as a substitute," I explained.
Suddenly, Bella looked terrified as her glance shifted past my left shoulder. The cat had entered the room; I could detect its scent, and when it picked up on mine, it began hissing and growling.
I realized why she was panicking. "No, no!" I hurriedly reassured her. "I wouldn't touch the cat! She's safe."
Bella visibly relaxed. "Sorry. I guess she'd barely be enough for an appetizer anyway," she joked – trying, again, to set things right with a joke.
"Considering what I just told you, it's a perfectly normal reaction," I replied. Hesitating a little, I asked, "Can I ask you another question?"
We moved to the parlor, settling on the couch at a cautious distance from each other with the cat still making her displeasure obvious.
"Faith!" Bella scolded. "Stop that!" The cat ran off down the hall.
Amused, I asked her, "Is that what you named her?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"It seemed appropriate."
Interesting choice, but I could see it. "How did you know about the arrangement with the vet? And the coffeemaker, for that matter."
"It wasn't hard. In fact, those were probably the easiest conclusions I drew about you. You were the only one who knew about the cat – at least, in time to get back to the vet that Saturday afternoon. And you were really the only one who knew my coffeemaker broke."
I nodded my head appreciatively. "I seem to underestimate your deductive skills a lot."
Bella blushed. "No, I'm sure you don't. I just put everything together."
I smiled warmly at her. "It's more than that. You did an impressive job figuring out a lot about me. But I'm not surprised. You're very intelligent."
Her blush deepened, and despite the accompanying increase in the venom flooding my mouth, I enjoyed the effect it had on her skin.
She wouldn't meet my eyes as she talked. "It's been a strange couple of months..." she started to say.
"I can agree with that completely," I said, now trying to put her at ease.
Bella laughed – a joyous sound to me – and then continued, "I didn't understand what was going on, especially at first, but once we talked, it changed so much. I'm glad you initiated that conversation, even though you had to do it instead of wanting to."
"No," I said slowly, shaking my head, "I'm pretty sure that I did want to. I just didn't want to admit it at the time."
She blushed again and ducked her head. "There was a connection right from that time, wasn't there?" She looked to me for affirmation.
"Yes. I thought so. I felt it."
Bella nodded. "Why me?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I'm sure you could have any girl you want," she said self-consciously. "It seems unlikely that me, a transplant from New Jersey, could just walk in and rock your world."
"But that's exactly what happened," I said emphatically. I paused, wondering if it would be too shocking to talk more of the draw her blood held for me. She saw my hesitation and said, "Whatever it is, just say it. We're past that, remember?"
I nodded. "I'm sure you remember yesterday, when I told you several times – because apparently you weren't listening" -- I glared at her severely -- "that I am very dangerous to you?"
She nodded, looking at me intently. "It isn't only the typical danger that a vampire would pose to a human. Your blood, in particular, has a very strong, very...appetizing scent, to me." Now it was my turn to bow my head. "I'm the worst sort of predator, and apparently, you bring that out in me more than anyone else does."
"I thought you said you only drink animal blood," she said gently. I looked up at her and there was no judgment in her eyes, nor fear, only confusion.
"We've conditioned ourselves over many years to use animals instead of killing people. But the desire for human blood never goes away. We usually overcome it, but it can also overpower us with no advance warning." I saw her flinch and thought, Good. You should be frightened. You need to know this. And then, reflexively, But please don't let it keep you away.
Bella tilted her head and considered me carefully. "You're like Aslan," she finally said.
"Aslan from 'The Chronicles of Narnia'?"
"The very one."
I smiled, mystified. "You do know he is widely interpreted to be a Christ-like figure?"
"I was thinking of another character's assessment of him. One of the other animals said, 'He's not tame, but he's good'," Bella said thoughtfully.
That analogy was completely unexpected; that she would even consider me in those terms left me reeling. The warmth of her expression was a stark contrast to the cold reality of the peril she was in just for being in my company. With an ache, I thought of how long I'd waited for her tenderness, and how much of it I'd lacked throughout my existence.
"That's at least half right," I muttered grimly.
Bella looked annoyed. "I don't know how you can say that. You saved my life when the consequences for you were enormous if someone saw you. You've been generous to me in less exceptional ways, too."
I looked beyond Bella at the painting she'd hung on the wall opposite where we were sitting. It was the urban street scene, with rowhouses, streetlights, cars jammed against the curb, and telephone wires strung high above sidewalks.
"I'm not an ideal man, Bella. Not for any woman, certainly not for you," I said slowly.
"You've really convinced yourself that you're evil, haven't you?" she said sadly.
"I've done many horrible things in my immortal years. I've lied, stolen, forged – mostly in the name of survival, but I do it without a second thought." And there's far worse than that, I thought despairingly.
"How many years have you been a vampire?" she asked curiously.
"For nearly a century." Still, there was no shock on her face, only composure.
"I supposed you've had to do any number of illegal things just to avoid being discovered," she surmised.
"Yes," I nodded. "But I've done other things, too, that are more horrible. I've killed people, Bella. You have to know that. Don't think I'm good," I warned.
I saw her swallow, then nod her head. "It sort of goes with the territory, though, doesn't it?" She smiled weakly. "But you don't do that anymore. You said you don't."
"True, but the desire is still there. I've learned to subsume it. I haven't murdered a human being in years, thought I've wanted to. I've already told you how close I came to killing you that first day. I would have had to kill everyone else in the room, too, and I was very ready to do that."
She closed her eyes, which frustrated me. It was hard enough not knowing her thoughts, but when she shut off an important part of her facial expression, it made it even worse. Then she spoke. "I'm so sorry."
"You're apologizing to me because I wanted to kill you?" My voice rose. "Do you even recognize how backwards that is? I should be apologizing to you, every minute of every day."
"I'm sorry that I've made your life so difficult," she said simply. "It's your nature, and you have to deny it every time you are anywhere near me."
I shook my head as she spoke. "You're taking your selflessness much too far," I scolded her. "You are honestly talking like you believe this is your fault."
Tears were in her eyes. "It's not just that. I'm really sorry for a different reason." She hesitated. I waited, wondering what she could possibly be referring to.
"I told you that what you are doesn't matter to me, and I meant that. But it seems like it matters a great deal to you – enough so that you'd…" She stopped and sniffled.
The instinct to comfort, to understand, surged forth, ahead of the instinct to harm. Very slowly, I put my cold hand against her cheek so that my palm cradled her face. "Tell me," I said softly.
Bella squeezed her eyes shut and leaned into my hand before replying. I was almost growing impatient until I realized she was soothed. Her teary face had calmed almost immediately. It was as if my touch – my icy cold, inhuman touch – had the desired effect.
"Well, enough that you'd have to stay away from me, even though I told you I didn't want you to." She opened her eyes and gazed into mine, the tears still clinging to her lashes.
"Bella." I said quietly. "I want to be with you more than anything. Are you saying you really can't see that?"
"I don't know. I'm confused and thinking the worst," she said honestly. "It's as if you're saying one thing but meaning another."
That was exactly it. I was starting to realize her perceptiveness wasn't going to let me get away with very much. "You're right about that. I don't mean to confuse you. I can't simply say I want us to be together unless I explain to you – again and again, if I have to – that I'm not good for you. I'm dangerous, Bella, and you can never forget that. You can't ever trust me." I removed my hand, feeling the warmth from her face that remained in my palm.
"I don't want you to hurt. But it would hurt me if you made the decision for me and stayed away," she said, the anguish plain on her face.
Conflict raged within me, selfishness and unselfishness, desire and logic, fear and optimism. "I've known for awhile that I wanted to be with you. Why else would I break into your house?" That brought a smile to her face. "But I can't tolerate even the thought that I might hurt you. I could never live with myself."
"I can accept it if you avoid me because it's best for you. I can't accept it if we stay apart because you think it's best for me," she insisted. Then, more softly, "I have faith in us. Can't we try?"
I stared in her eyes a long time. Selfishness was looking unbeatable, pulling desire and optimism into the winner's circle with it. "It won't be easy," I said.
A loving smile lit up her face. "Nothing that's worth it ever is."