I love the shade and the shadow, and would be alone with my thoughts when I may

Dracula, Bram Stoker

Chapter 14 - Natural Disaster

It's been two weeks since I called Edward and said goodbye to Mike.

No text messages. No phone calls. I hadn't seen him outside of our building.

It was like he had disappeared into thin air. I'd asked him to give me time to figure things out. I'd told him that I would re-engage when I was ready.

I wish he hadn't listened to me. I told him that I would call him when I was ready. I wasn't ready by any stretch, but that didn't mean that I didn't want to talk to him.

I am such a hypocrite. Give me time, don't leave me alone. I don't want to be a replacement for someone else, but I'll take whatever you'd give me.

But what would I say if we did talk? That I wasn't sure enough about myself to trust him? That I was a coward, and was afraid that being around him would make me want to settle for less than I deserved?

The quiet fed my doubts about what the future could hold for us. I'd still not allowed myself to reconcile his intentions in pursuing me based on my resemblance to Maggie. I didn't want to; for fear that answer wouldn't be the one I wanted. It was easier to push it away, to divert, than consider the situation and what it could mean.

What is that lovely old saying, denial is a river in Egypt? I might as well enjoy my float time.

So I kept myself busy and pushed the questions about Edward to the back of my mind. I buried myself in my work.

In the spare moments I missed him. Or I missed what I thought I knew of him.

My dissertation became my personal crusade. A way to find something positive out of the havoc I'd wrought. Every waking moment was poured into writing, filling small holes in my research. It kept the fear at bay, but not the consequences or knowledge of my actions. That was apparent in every word I typed, in every page completed.

Angel/Whore

Saint/Sinner

Saved/Damned

I used the subject matter as a way to channel my thoughts, my fears, my frustrations. It was easier to do that than face the fact that I was as culpable in this mess as Edward was.

I was the one who rushed into bed with him before asking questions. I couldn't fault him for questions that I hadn't asked. It would be all too easy to try to blame him, to lay the responsibility at his feet.

But in reality, it came to rest squarely on both of our shoulders.

The only breaks in my quest came when Emmett or Rose insisted that I come up for air. They would try to lure me to museums, to shows, other things so uniquely London. I would give in simply to get them off my back. I allowed small blocks of time for frivolous diversions. If I gave in every so often, it was guaranteed that they would leave me alone for a few days after.

And while I drove myself into the ground, I found a partner to keep me company.

I spent nights in our flat watching Emmett fade away. The spark, the light that infused everything about him slowly began to dim. His smiles didn't come as easily as they once had. I'd caught him a few times, watching Rose sadly. They had come to some sort of understanding that night in our flat. She was less averse to spending time with him, and I was pretty sure I had walked in on 'something' a few times. Cheeks red, body language awkward.

But Rose refused to stop dating Royce, and I could see the pained look on Emmett's face when Royce would appear at our flat. He was like a man condemned. He wanted to be with Rose in anyway he could, even if it meant he had to watch her leave with someone else. Better that he be near the source of his longing and submit himself to self flagellation than miss a moment without her.

It made me angry. Or angrier. Why did life conspire to make people so miserable? It felt like a petty child's game; who can we make unhappy today?

Why did we have to love the people who could only hurt us?

What business did I have even talking about love?

One night, at the end of March, I came home to find Rose sitting on the couch flipping listlessly through the channels.

"What are you doing home? I thought you were going out tonight?"

"I changed my mind. Royce had some dinner to go to that would have required me to totally trick out. I didn't feel like being arm candy, so I told him I had to work." She dropped the remote on the coffee table. "You look beat. Did you eat dinner?"

"Yeah, I grabbed something on campus." I left my bag by the door, and flopped down in a chair. "And I am beat. My backside hurts from those awful chairs."

"Well, at least your butt is the only thing falling asleep." Rose stretched her legs out, feet resting on the coffee table. "It feels weird for it to be just the two of us. I hadn't realized how much Emmett hangs around."

"What's the deal with you guys anyway?"

Rose shifted, as if uncomfortable with the question. She combed her fingers through the fringe on a throw pillow buying some time.

"We have fun; we hang out."

The cavalier nature of her response was the spark that lit the pile of resentment and anger I'd been building for weeks.

"Is that what you are calling it these days? You're jerking him around, you know that don't you?" I didn't usually dabble in Rose's relationships, but I hated seeing what this was doing to Emmett.

"Since when do you care what happens to the guys I date?" She shot back.

"Since the guy you are screwing with happens to be my friend. He's a great guy who doesn't deserve your cast offs."

I'd never really stood up to Rose, and I think we were both shocked by my tone.

"Are you sure you aren't harboring a crush?" Rose's tone was cool. I was pushing her, and she didn't like it.

"No, Rose, I've had more than my share of relationship bliss for a while, thank you very much. I'd like something with depth, not courtesy fucks." I could feel the anger coursing through me, looking for a target. "As for me harboring a crush, I had every opportunity in the world to have a go at Emmett, but I didn't. For once maybe you are the one getting someone else's sloppy seconds."

My face was bright red as soon as the words were out. What has happened to me? Who was this vindictive, spiteful woman?

"Ha! Like you can even talk about courtesy fucks. You have one random encounter and come running home like Chicken Little. Why don't you come back and lecture me when you know what you're talking about."

We stared each other down, neither willing to give in.

Finally, I stood up and stalked into the kitchen.

"I hope he wises up and dumps you on your ass. He deserves better than what you give him."

I grabbed a container of yogurt and a spoon out of the refrigerator and headed for my room.

"That's my yogurt!" Rose shouted behind me.

I spun around, launching in without thinking. "Yes, Rose, we know, everything is yours. It's all about you and what you want or need. Little miss perfect gets everything she wants. Fuck anyone else. I never realized just how damn selfish you are."

I slammed the yogurt down on the coffee table. Droplets of purple cream splattered on the coffee table. That's it Bella, just keep adding fuel to the fire.

"There you go, enjoy it. It's a mess just like everything else you touch." Not waiting for her retort, I stormed into my room and slammed the door.

I sat on my bed, trying to slow my breathing and collect my thoughts. Why was I so angry? Yes, Rose was treating Emmett like garbage, and I didn't like to see a friend get hurt. But what gave me the right to question her behavior? It was her life, not mine.

I lay back on my bed and studied the ceiling. There was a giant knot of anger choking out my ability to breathe. It had been growing inside me for weeks, and I needed to get it out. Rose wasn't right, but she didn't deserve me unloading on her like that either. She was just in the line of fire.

Great, now I have to figure out a way to apologize, even though deep down I knew I was right.

A soft tap on the door pulled me from my thoughts. "Come in."

Rose opened the door and stood in the doorway, her expression almost sheepish.

"You okay?"

I pulled in a long breath. "It's a relative statement."

"I've never seen you go off like that. What's gotten into you?"

"Weeks of pent up frustration and anger. I am sorry I took it out on you."

Rose walked over to sit on the edge of the bed. She traced patterns in the duvet to occupy her hands. Neither of us spoke.

"I like them both, you know. It's not like I am just keeping Emmett around for a booty call."

"But you are fucking him."

Rose's head snapped up, her eyes wide.

"When did you stop being such a prude?"

"About six weeks ago. Letting someone fuck you literally and emotionally will do that to you."

Rose barked out a dry laugh. "Bella, you are being a total drama queen about all this. Don't you think he deserves an opportunity to explain?"

I launched up off the bed to pace the room. "To explain what, Rose? That I remind him of a dead girl? That he looks at me and sees someone else, not Bella? Sure, yeah, I would really like to hear that. Have any salt you can pour over the wound? Maybe a little lemon juice to make it sink in a little further?"

"Stop it. If it were that simple, do you think he would constantly check in with Emmett to make sure you are okay? It's not about Maggie, it's about you, but you can't pull your head out of your own self indulgent ass long enough to see it."

I hadn't told Rose about Maggie. Emmett had the generalities, but not the name.

"How do you know about Maggie?" I forgot to be angry, choosing instead to focus solely in on knowledge that she shouldn't have in the hope that it might give me something I needed to know.

She shifted her attention back to the duvet, tracing the white stitching over and over.

"Edward caught me outside the apartment a few days ago. He was concerned about you, specifically about Mike messing with you when you were already in a 'fragile state'. He wanted to make sure that you were okay, and that Emmett was keeping Mike away."

I was too shocked to speak. I'd taken his silence as indifference. I was unprepared to hear that he continued to look on while respecting my wishes.

Did he feel responsible for making sure I didn't go off the deep end?

"I felt bad, he looked so pitiful. So I told him that Mike had gone back to Chicago. I also told him that you were hiding in your paper as a way to avoid dealing with your feelings and insecurities. I did it to make him feel bad, but he was actually happy. He asked if you were making progress. I swear Bella, if I told him that cutting his heart out and giving it to you on a platter would make you happy he probably would have done it."

I sat in stunned silence, unsure of what to say.

"I ended up getting a beer with him. He told me what happened; or at least his take on it. And he told me about Maggie. You need to hear him out, Bella. You aren't playing with all the facts."

"What if I don't want to hear him out, Rose? How would you feel if you totally opened yourself up to someone, let yourself feel things you've never experienced before, only to find out after the fact that you were the runner up?"

"And what if you weren't the runner up?"

"How could I not be? That was her picture in his flat, not mine. He wrote me a letter admitting that he was interested in me because of her. How can I build anything off of that foundation? I'm me; I'm Bella, not some dead girl."

"Why are you so freaked put about the resemblance? So what if she looked like you? She's not here to compete. It's a non issue."

"It's not a non issue, Rose. I deserve to be the one he picked. Me. It's no different than Mike; it was never about me, always about something else. You've never had to be second best, you don't know what it feels like. I do, and you know what? I deserve more than that."

She sighed and stood up. "I can't force you to do anything you don't want to. You are a big girl, even though you aren't acting like it. You are so hung up on her that you aren't listening to what he is saying. She's dead, he's not. And he wants you, not her. Although I can't figure out why."

Rose walked to the door, hesitating for a moment before turning to face me.

"Yeah, so I might be going back and forth between two guys, but they both know it. And they choose to continue with that knowledge. What about you, Bella? You are using Emmett for emotional support instead of facing your issues. And you are turning Edward into the bad guy to jutify your behavior. At least with me, Emmett and Royce know where they stand. You're the one that's playing games with other peoples' lives."

She moved toward the door, pausing with her hand on the knob.

"Call me selfish, little miss perfect, whatever you choose. I can handle it. But you know what you are, Bella? You're a vampire and you don't even see it.

Rose stepped out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

I sat back down on the bed, astounded by her parting salvo. How could she even begin to accuse me of leading Emmett or Edward on? I was the one wronged here. Emmett and I were keeping each other propped up.

I needed some air, to clear my head. The sun was setting; a walk along the Thames might do me some good.

Rose was no where to be seen when I left the apartment. I took my keys and locked up just in case.

As I walked, I processed Rose's words.

He was concerned about you…

Happy that you were making progress…

What if you weren't the runner up?

My emotions were at war with my mind. I wanted to believe, wanted to hope that what Rose said was true. Yet at the same time, I didn't want to go through the machinations just to be torn up again. The fear of rejection was just too much.

What was that old adage? Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

Love. What a laughable concept. I hardly knew Edward. Exhibit A; my resemblance to the love of his life. I had confused sexual attraction with something more, and allowed myself to get caught up in that. I didn't know enough about him to love him.

We had sex. It was amazing. It had been, cheesily enough, inspirational. In those moments after, caught up in the lifetime made for TV movie after glow, I believed his platitudes about wanting something more with me.

Platitudes. That's all it really was. Whether from Mike or from Edward, it didn't really matter. Emmett was the only one I could count on to be straight with me. With Emmett, I was never second best. He saw me and liked me for who I am.

And that was when it hit me. Emmett would be straight with me because he was my friend. He didn't want a romantic relationship or sex. There was no motivator to influence his behavior. To color his intentions.

If I had felt something physically for Emmett, would my relationship with him be the same? Would we be at odds like he and Rose were? Would he misguide me, try to make me into someone that I wasn't?

Why did it all have to be so convoluted?

I continued walking, pulling my coat a little bit tighter to close out the damp spring air. A coffee shop loomed ahead. The thought of something warm to wrap my hands around for the walk back sounded like heaven.

The shop was deserted, and I made my way to the counter to order a latte. While the barista made my drink, I waited patiently, letting the warmth thaw my cold cheeks.

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't register the chime of the door as it opened.

"Bella?"

Alice Whitlock stood just inside the door, wrapped in a bright red coat.

"Fancy meeting you here. I've been meaning to ring you"

She looked around the shop, taking note of the lack of patrons.

"There are some comfy chairs over there. Let me order a drink, and then let's sit down. I have a story that I think you need to hear."