End of Chapter 13
"Edward." She strained through her sleepy haze.
"Yes, Bella?" I asked.
"I love you." She whispered as she floated into unconsciousness.
"I love you, always." I whispered into her hair as she relaxed into a sleep against me.
BPOV
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It was no real surprise to me when Renee called me the next day to say the best prosecuting firm in LA had contacted her about representing me in my trial, and pro bono, at that. I can only guess how many pro bono Cullen dollars were behind this. They flew up to Seattle, and drove to Forks two days later to talk with Charlie and I. Well, mostly me. This type of stuff was to be expected. They wanted to know every minute detail of my relationship with Peter...
Peter and I met the summer after my freshman year of high school. Renee had the idea that she, meaning we, should learn to play the violin after seeing a Celtic Woman special, and her wanting to jump around and play like a pixie goddess like Máiréad Nesbitt. I went along, but was never really interested in the violin. It was then that our instructor, Peter, suggested that I might try the cello. I remember him sitting me down off to the side from where my mother was plucking her way on her new violin. I remember the feeling of his hand on my shoulder as he sat me down the chair. How he slid the cello between my legs, and how he had his hands on my thighs explaining the correct positioning of the cello. He slid the hair off of my shoulder, grazing my neck with his fingers, as he laid the instrument against my chest. Peter than put the bow in my hands, with his hand guiding mine, he went over proper bowing. I felt uncomfortable at the time, but I am naturally shy, so I dismissed it as the embarrassment of any attention.
As it turned out, I was a bit of a natural, but Peter insisted to my mother, that I could be great if I kept up my lessons, and I did love to play. The cello's sound has that certain melancholy tone that called to me. Renee lost interest in her violin after only a month, but I kept playing. Peter praised me constantly. Always little compliments and touches. Always telling me how special I was and how my playing transported his soul to a special place I created for just the two of us. He confided in me about the troubles in his marriage (which I realize now was all a ruse), and I opened up my soul to him about my parents, and my true feelings about the life I had led so far. It was around then that his good-byes started being accompanied by hugs. I was starting to blossom and mature, physically, around that time. I was a "late bloomer". Soon he was telling me how beautiful I was becoming. How I took his breath away. He said he could never imagine ever being as captivated with another creature. I was a young, impressionable girl. It was the first time a boy or man ever talked to me that way, or touched me with such adoration and reverence. I was falling in love.
Then one afternoon I came in for my lesson, and he had his small studio a glow with candles. He said we were taking a break that day. He handed me a single rose. A beautiful icon for his. He walked over and ran his hand gently across the blush on my cheek. Then he reached down with tenderness and kissed me. My first kiss. I knew it was wrong, but I didn't know how to reject this man. If this authority figure thought this was OK, then it must be. He used his sweet words and my innocence to work towards his ultimate goal. He picked me up, and I was swept away. He took me over and laid me on the blanket he had laid across the floor. He told me how he wanted to worship every part of me. How he had been looking for me his whole life, and was never going to let me go. Everything happened so fast, it was all a blur of pain and motion, and then it was over before I realized what we had done.
We continued on, though we never made love again, and his touches became less frequent. I asked him what I had done as he distanced himself slowly. By then, four weeks had past, and I knew there was a bigger problem now than his distance. A test confirmed my worst nightmare. I was pregnant. I was scared and mortified at first. I didn't know what to think or do. I decided to tell him the next afternoon at my lesson. I walked in, and was glad to see we had the place to ourselves. I told him I was pregnant. He told me he was ecstatic. That he loved that our child was growing inside of me. He started on about marriage and our family, and playing to the baby, and spending the rest of our lives together. He made love to me again that day. I was on cloud nine on my way home, not even thinking about what I was going to tell everyone. He had asked me to wait.
I didn't have practice the next day, but went to the studio anyways. I was in love with this man, and I wanted to see him. I burst through the door all a glow his love. It was then that I saw him. He was with my neighbor, Lauren. I didn't know she was taking lessons. He was pushing the cello between her legs. His hands were on her thighs explaining how to hold the instrument. It was her hair now that he was brushing aside. His fingers gliding across her neck. It was her ear he was whispering into as he guided her bowing across the strings. I let out a sob, and he looked up at me. I was expecting shock or remorse, but it was a look of dissidence and conquest.
I started to leave, and he ran after me. My heart leapt as he grabbed my arm. He was going to beg for my forgiveness. He was going to tell me how I had misconstrued what I saw. That I was his girl forever.
"Bella," he said. "This isn't going to work out."
What? I couldn't speak. My world was quickly shattering all around me.
"I am thinking of working things out with my wife. We had fun, but we can't see each other anymore." He said like he was canceling our cello lessons, not my life.
"What about the baby?" I choked out, my hand instinctively going to my stomach.
"Do with that as you please. It's not my problem." And that is all he said to me. He turned and walked away. There he left me standing on the sidewalk with my heart ripped out and strewn carelessly in his wake. That was the last time I talked to him until he showed up at my door here in Forks. I was so upset about his abandonment, I couldn't sleep or eat. I lost the baby. I was never far along, so no one ever knew about the baby. I went to a free clinic to be examined by a doctor, and no further medical assistance was needed. I had passed the baby cleanly, he had said. But I didn't feel clean. I felt even emptier than before. I blamed myself for everything. The lost baby just represented how I couldn't hold onto him or his love.
It was then that I noticed people had been talking around me. How long had they been talking? Had they suspected this the whole almost two years I had been taking lessons with him? Was I not the first? I couldn't take the spotlight in normal getting-called-on-in-class situations, and this negative spotlight made me withdraw even more. It was then that my mom told me about my step-dad's opportunity with spring training, and how she wished she could go with him. I had found my out. I had never lived with Charlie, my dad. A little town like Forks, which now appeared like the perfect quiet hole in the world to take refuge, seemed like it was calling me. I called Charlie and asked if I could come. He said yes, of course, and Renee and Phil went to Florida, and I went to Washington. I never expected, wanted, or needed to see Peter or Phoenix again. I was going to finish up high school in Forks, and then disappear somewhere for college leaving everything behind me...
And now they knew my story. I was exhausted after recalling it all. I longed for Edward now. His comforting embrace. Would he want me after he heard this? Would he really want to spend his time with damaged goods? Could I ever trust in his love? How long would it be before his love ran out too?
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OK...that chapter made ME sad. Sorry it took longer than I have been posting to get this up. I ran into a creative road block, until this idea of doing a chapter from BPOV came to me...telling her story. What did you guys think? More soon...promise!