One chapter will talk about the past, one about the present until we reach the point where we began with the present. Confusing much? It keeps things interesting. ;)
Same disclaimer applies-Twilight belongs to S.M., but the idea of this story is mine.
Many thanks to my awesome betas and friends - TeamAllTwilight and m0t0b33. And to my newest help: Momma Laura.
Present time
By the end of August, we had to make a hard decision regarding the dog.
The poor thing couldn't walk much, but he was smart and understood why he had to stay on the plastic bag we put in his corner. At some point in the past month, everything changed for the worse—he completely lost his sight, both his back legs became paralyzed, and he could barely eat.
A couple nights ago when I came out of the shower, I found Edward pacing the bedroom, tugging at his hair.
"What's wrong, honey?" I asked, worried.
He told me it was time to put Slob out of his suffering. God, did I cry that night.
Edward even swore pets were no longer allowed in the house considering in the end, we will be hurt. I wholeheartedly agreed.
So now we're on the way to the vet…to do something horrible.
I have no idea how Edward can drive because I sure can't see anything a foot in front of me, being blinded by my never-ending stream of tears. He sniffs every now and then but keeps his eyes on the windshield.
When we stop in front of the clinic and I see Edward taking Slob out, I have a sudden urge to keep him in the car, to hug him and never to let him go.
"Maybe we shouldn't do this," I blurt out, getting out of the car quickly. "We can't kill him."
"Bella, love, he's already suffering. I hate seeing him like this," he murmurs, picking the dog up.
Oh, my God.
I can't do this.
"Edward." There are tears running down my face as I watch him walking determinedly to the clinic's door.
"If don't go in now, I'll lose my nerve," he says, opening the door.
I rush after them on shaky legs.
The whole thing is a blur for me. All I see is Slob's sad, hazy eyes, the tears dropping from Edward's eyes, the syringe going between Slob's shoulders, his sigh. It's overwhelming.
When his eyes close, I crumble; thankfully, Edward has his arms wrapped around me.
I'm a sobbing mess all the way back home, and the second we arrive, I run inside and lock myself in my favorite room—the small library. My nook. My safe haven.
Sadly, the window here—where I love to sit—has a great view to the backyard. Edward's currently digging a hole there.
I know I should be there, because he's probably suffering more than me, but I can't.
I simply can't.
My arms go around my knees as I rock back and forth, thinking of the most amazing dog I ever met.
At some point, I fall asleep on the loveseat and a knock on the door pulls me from a nice dream.
"Yeah?" I croak, opening the door to find Edward there, still dressed in his sports pants and a once white shirt, now smudged with dirt.
"Pizza?" he offers, showing me a box of mouthwatering salami pizza. My favorite. "And beer?" He pats his pockets.
Too adorable for his own good.
But mhmm.
The heavy beer bottles make his pants hang low on his hips.
"Come here, silly man." I pull him in the room, to the loveseat. I snuggle on his lap and sigh heavily. "How are you?" I whisper, stroking his jaw.
"Holding up pretty good so far."
"You should let it go. Just cry. You know, it makes you feel better?"
He's stubborn and stays strong for the rest of the day. Until late at night when he goes to shower.
I don't go after him, but I can hear it. It's for the best.
The wound will heal in time, I know. All too soon, we'll remember Slob as the happy, crazy dog he used to be.
At work the next day, we're both somber and too serious, getting everyone's attention. Normally when we're next to each other, we're either poking fun or cuddling or something. Not today.
Of course, it takes a new guy from my team to ask who died for me to make a mad dash to the bathroom and cry my eyes out. Again.
I hope this pain will go away soon.
I already miss him.
This morning, I stared at his corner until the bacon burnt, and I realized this is the natural course of life.
In the upcoming weekend, Esme invites us for dinner, and only when we park in front of their house do we realize it's a family event by how many cars are there—including James's car.
We're getting better, but there are moments when one of us looks around or just gets this look. We're pathetic.
Holding my hand, Edward walks to the door and then inside.
It's so loud inside, and it smells wonderful.
I can hear Emmett's voice over everyone's then Esme shouts about something making everyone laugh.
"Nothing like a few hours spent with the family," Edward jokes, leading the way to the living room.
"I was just calling you!" Vic exclaims. "I have great news!" She pauses, probably for dramatic effect or simply to allow someone else to comment, then she juts her chin out. "I dropped out of Northwestern's program! I'm going to attend classes in New York!"
Apparently no one knew of this because not only her parents but James, too—start scolding her. It's too funny to see her pouting and looking chastised.
I'm still shocked that Carlisle accepted James so easily, but his argument was that James is old enough not to play around or make some stupid mistake and hurt his baby girl.
Once they get off Victoria's back, they turn on us—gushing about how cute we are, how we look more in love every time they see us, how we're glowing…
Edward destroys their cheery mood by blurting out about Slob…out of nowhere.
That ends up with all of us in a group hug and light scolding from Esme for not telling her sooner. She'd have been there with us, for us.
"We did pretty well on our own, Mom," Edward tells her, keeping an arm around me.
"Yeah," I nod.
She frowns at us. "Why do I have the feeling that you bawled your eyes out the whole day?"
"For the rest of the week, too," I add softly, lightly.
"Oh, sweetie. We all loved him." Rose comes next to me.
Thankfully, the conversation switches back to Victoria, then Emmett asks Edward about the bachelor party. I've never been happier to talk about the wedding.
Esme tells me not to worry about my special party because she's planning it with my Mom. I can't say no. They're having so much pleasure doing it.
.
.
.
On my birthday, I get breakfast in bed.
It's nothing fabulous—some pancakes half done, cranberry juice, and a pitcher of chocolate syrup for the pancakes. There's also a white rose, a cup of coffee, and a box of Marlboros on the tray.
Sadly, only the tray is in Edward's spot. Edward, himself, is missing.
I dip a pancake in the chocolate then go in search of my man. Unfortunately, I'm alone.
Not even a note or something. I scowl at the tray when I return to our bedroom.
I don't know what he's playing, but I'd have loved to wake up next to him, not breakfast.
To top it all off, he's not even picking his cell phone.
Only because I'm hungry, I polish my plate and drink the last drop of my coffee and juice.
His car is gone, too, so that means I can't go anywhere, not like I'm allowed out of the house. A couple days ago, I caught a nasty cold for having all the windows open at the office, along with the door. I had only a thin blouse on, so of course, I got sick.
As the day wears on, I start wondering what the hell is going on.
No one has called or texted or emailed me.
It's like they forgot about me.
While I'm working on lunch, my phone starts buzzing on the counter. I'm tempted not to answer, but it's Vic—she hasn't done anything wrong. That I know of.
"Bella! Happy birthday!"
"Thanks, sweetie," I answer cheerfully.
"Celebrating?" she asks, giggling.
"Me, myself, and I are having fun while cooking ravioli," I mumble.
"Oh! Where's my brother?"
"At work, probably." I shrug. "Anyway, you done for today? I could use some company..."
"Uh, I'm not sure... I'm sorry, Bella. I have classes." There's something in her voice that I can't quite put my finger on.
"Fine. Have fun."
"Oh, I will."
When I finish cooking my lunch, I take it upstairs to the flat screen. This is where I nest—there's toilet paper for my runny nose, tons of pills for my cold, a trash bag, my smokes and an ashtray, and a shit ton of chick flicks.
I plant myself on the couch, picking at the still hot ravioli, my eyes on the TV set.
Two movies later, the doorbell rings loudly making me jump.
I step into my bunny slippers, tug the robe tighter around me, then go to open the door. Mom. She looks worried.
"Bella, honey! I was so worried!" She throws her arms around me.
"What happened?" I ask shocked, pulling her inside.
"You weren't answering the phone, and when I called Edward, he told me you were sick." She cups my cheek, and then she feels my forehead. "You don't have a fever."
"I'm fine, Mom. Just a cold."
"Are you sure?" There's a glint in her eye. "Maybe you're pregnant."
"Mooom!" I groan. "It's a cold, trust me."
"How do you know, hon? Nothing is one hundred percent sure."
"The shot is."
We stare at each other for a long while until she realizes I'm right. I offer her ravioli and a Brad Pitt movie—she can't refuse.
I also grab my phone, which I have forgotten in the kitchen.
Of course, when Mom sees my nest upstairs, she starts laughing. Until she sees the smokes and starts the preaching. Ungh.
We have fun with the movies and young Brad Pitt…yummy.
"Baby, I'm home!"
I exchange a look with Mom, surprised of how fast the time has passed.
"Be right down!" I shout back to Edward.
When I leave the entertainment room, Mom covers my eyes. God, she has awful timing.
What if I was on the stairs?
"Mom? What are you…"
"Shhh. I'll guide you."
"No offense, the last time you guided me, I drove my bike into a tree."
"Bella, have some faith!"
I grip the banister with both hands.
We stop on the last step, and Edward takes my hand. The electricity is there alright, making us laugh.
Then my eyes are uncovered and light floods the entry hallway.
I blink several times, trying to take in what I'm seeing.
Our families are here. Whoa. Even Dad.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"
"Oh, God," I choke, bringing my hands to my mouth. "Did you do this behind my back?" I ask Edward, amazed.
"No, Santa came early this year," Emmett says loudly, finally making me move.
I approach them, opening my arms. "Thank you so much. This is a wonderful surprise."
We're not even the least prepared for so many guests. I've been so sick that I didn't even bake a cake.
I shouldn't have worried, though. I can see a huge take-out bag by James and a cake at my Dad's side.
Edward takes my hand, not allowing me to join our guests in the living room. "Your surprise is outside."
"What did you get me, crazy man?" I wonder.
"You'll see. I hope you like it, because it will be difficult to change it."
"Edward," I warn him, not even wanting to think of what is outside.
"Just don't flip, okay? Smile, and say thank you. Everyone contributed to this, but they didn't exactly support my idea. You can kill me once they go. Deal?"
"Deal." I peck his lips, laughing.
Clearing his throat, he opens the front door, and I shout in surprise.
There's a car.
A freaking new car with a bow tie wrapped around it.
We kept discussing it lately, but it wasn't in the plan for the near future—the priority is the wedding, which it expensive as it is.
"Holy shit, Edward!" I squeeze his hand to keep myself upright.
"Happy birthday, baby. I love you." He kisses my cheek, nuzzling my ear. "Don't you like it?"
"Uh." I turn to look into his eyes. "It's the car I showed you last week. The one I liked…but I didn't intend on buying it. Ever."
"You're welcome," he chuckles.
"It's red," I murmur, glancing back at the car. "God, you're crazy!"
Edward squeezes me in his arms. "Anything for you."
I hug him back, kissing his lips. "Thank you. Really. Wow. I can't ever top this gift."
"One day…maybe you can," he says softly.
I know what he wants, and maybe I want it, too. One day.
We stand there, hugging, looking at my new car until Esme ushers us inside, while reminding me that I'm sick.
Pictures on FB as always. The link to my group is on my profile.
The scone I get more chapters back from my last beta...I'll post more often. :)