RAUM

An Italian Winter

Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended at any point.

Chapter 21 – Ticket

Friday, March 9, 2007

Heat oven to 180 degrees C, I read. Put the frozen croissants on a lightly-floured pan. Done.

Since I had met Bella, I had widened the variety of human food I kept at home for appearance's sake; with her around, some food could actually come in handy. Looking at the directions on the cake carton, I blessed the day when, just in case, I had bought some frozen pastries.

Bake 15 minutes or until golden brown. I glanced at the clock. She was still sleeping, curled up in my bed. Recalling Jake's morning routine at their home, I set the coffee on. The aroma of the coffee and the croissants cooking in the oven invaded the kitchen and, unfortunately, my nostrils, too. I cracked the window open, welcoming the cool air.

Bella let out a moan; I detected the sound of her legs rustling the sheets. She was waking up. I took the croissants out of the oven, remembering at the last second to put on an unnecessary oven mitt. Esme did the same at home – the more we got used to imitating humans' behavior, the less we were prone to slip in our masquerade.

By the time I went back to the bedroom, Bella was already stretching.

"Good morning," I told her softly.

"Hey," she greeted me, her voice still thick. "Good morning to you." With a wide smile, she reached out her arms toward me.

I sat on the blanket beside her. Thanks to her warmth and scent, my unused bed had become a cozy nest.

She cleared her throat. "What time is it?"

"Last time I checked, it was eight."

Her eyes widened.

"It's Friday," I rushed to add, guessing why she suddenly appeared so concerned. "Isn't it your free day?"

Her sigh of relief made me chuckle. Just a few hours ago, I wouldn't have thought possible that something could still amuse me.

"I've been working so much for that damn project at school that a whole free week wouldn't be enough," she complained.

"How is it going?"

"Really well, actually. We've found a lot of material, and it seems that the colleague who had the idea was right after all. The students are enthusiastic, and I can assure you that doesn't happen so often when a teacher wants them to do a school project."

"I can imagine," I scoffed, recalling how many times I'd witnessed how bored and annoyed students were when teachers gave them additional homework. But I focused on the mention of her colleague, which made me hope that the project would be over soon.

"How were you, as a student?" she wondered.

"What do you want to know?"

A flash of amusement flickered in her eyes. "I don't know...were you a nerd? Did you use to wear thick glasses and braces?"

I grinned at her. "Neither. I looked much like I am now. No glasses, no braces, and no pimples, if you were wondering."

"A handsome genius?" she challenged.

"Why are you so sure that I had such good grades?"

She shrugged. "Am I right?"

I gave her a sheepish smile. "I guess you are," I admitted. "I even got a prize on my junior year." I didn't know why I suddenly bragged about it, but the way she beamed at me warmed my heart. I wanted to enjoy our carefree conversation as long as we could and tell her every anecdote I could share. I'd have given anything to see her smiling again at me as proud as she was now, as if I'd just told her that I'd won the Nobel Prize.

"Was the prize for music?"

"Nope. Chemistry."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "See? A genius. The brightest student of...where did you attend high school?"

The question wasn't strange, but it caught me off guard. "Portland, Oregon," I answered. "My father worked at the local hospital." Of all the colleges and high schools I had attended, the first name that came to mind was the city where I was living at the time I left the Cullens. I had continued to study, but I hadn't enrolled in high school or college since then.

Just the mention of the city, and I felt as if I were back there with my adoptive family. My mood change didn't go unnoticed by Bella. I rubbed at my eyes, pretending I was a bit sleepy, but I didn't fool her. She knew what turn my thoughts were taking.

She rose to sit on the bed and took my hand in hers. Her expression softened as she gazed into my eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't come to check on you earlier yesterday. I was busy all day at school, but after what had happened in the morning I should have..."

I silenced her, putting a finger on her lips. I caressed them, enjoying their softness. "I don't want to hear the word sorry from your mouth anymore, okay?" I cringed, recalling the way I had treated her when she had come to see how I was faring. "I wish I could explain..." I stopped myself. I had never considered talking with her about myself, but was I still sure she wouldn't understand? Or was I already putting my walls back up between us? "One day I'll tell you more about the importance of what you did for me yesterday," I promised.

She gave my hand a light squeeze. She's here, I thought, she's still here for me. She had kept her promise and hadn't left. Was I going to keep mine?

"I've made breakfast," I announced. Having a human guest forced me to recall movies, books, thoughts and whatever else I had collected about their habits. Was I supposed to bring her a tray with her breakfast? Did she need to go to the bathroom? "I'll wait for you in the kitchen."

I checked the croissants and the cup of coffee I had put on the table; they didn't seem any different from those I had seen in movies. Bella joined me and took a chair. I motioned to the food. "I hope it's edible."

She chuckled at my embarrassment and took a sip of coffee. "It's perfect." She tore a piece of croissant. "Are you busy today?"

"No." I thought about my study and the stack of paper I had collected there about Robert Sawyer. His concerts, his successes, articles about the illness that had interrupted his career...just a few days ago I had put on the top of the pile the ticket for the opening concert he was going to conduct at the Maggio Fiorentino Festival. At this point, I had nothing to do but wait...unless...

A startling thought occurred to me. I trembled as I considered taking another road. I could tear up the ticket, wreck my plans, renounce my revenge. When Robert Sawyer was enjoying his soirée of glory, I would take Bella on a date, a hundred miles away from my target.

My conflicting thoughts were suddenly interrupted.

"About yesterday, there's something I'd like to ask you," Bella told me quietly.

"Go ahead."

"You mentioned your adoptive family."

"I did." Despite my intentions, my tone was clipped.

"You haven't seen them in a while, right?"

"A long while," I confirmed. I wondered about the reaction she would have had if she had known that the while was much longer than she had been alive.

An awkward silence fell between us. I would have liked to be able to tell her that she didn't need to be so hesitant and I was ready to answer her questions. But I wasn't. Not yet, at least.

"You said you consider yourself a..." she didn't complete her sentence. "You said your adoptive family would have preferred that you died."

I remembered what I had told her. I am a failure. I am a curse. Why was she afraid to say it out loud? She had edited her previous words, blaming my family instead of me. How would she react if she knew what I had done? Did she think she was dealing with the poor victim of an uncaring adoptive family?

I looked at her straight in the eyes. "They have the right to think so," I stated, my voice cold.

Bella flinched but didn't avert her eyes. There was still kindness in her gaze. The truth would be too much, I considered. I'm not ready to see her run away from me. I'm not ready to see kindness fade away from her eyes, replaced by horror and fear.

I saw realization dawning on her. She took a deep breath before speaking again. "Because of the terrible things you said you've done?"

I nodded.

"Wouldn't your family forgive you?" she whispered. Her eyes became glassy with tears. "You told me to try to go beyond the guilt, that I deserve acceptance. Couldn't it be the same for you?"

Defeated, I shook my head. Even if I spared my next victim, I couldn't escape the debt of so much human life taken, no matter how justified. The only way to kill the monster I had created was to die with him.

If there were a way to be with you, Bella."I lack the main requisite to be forgiven," I muttered.

She frowned at me. "Which is?"

"Repentance."

I recalled the choices I had made and the ones Carlisle had taken from me. My destiny was sealed. Hadn't it been so since my sire had found me on my deathbed?

"You told me to go home, to try to talk with Mike's parents," she reminded me softly. "Tell me that it's not too late for you either."

It's always been too late.Wasn't it the consequence of Carlisle's decision? Hadn't he resolved to wait until it wasn't possible anymore for me to meet the Masens, since he didn't trust me? "What if I've already bought my ticket to Hell?"

"I wouldn't let you go," she blurted.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"So tell me!"

I remained silent in the wake of her outburst. We stared at each other. Her lower lip trembled – she was on the verge of tears but swallowed them back.

I sighed. "There's so much that you don't know about me."

"But I know enough to be sure that I don't want to be without you."

I let out an exasperated breath at her stubbornness. "You can't want it." She couldn't choose me. She wouldn't if only she knew the truth. I was deluding myself hoping otherwise, and it would only cause more pain to us both.

Bella stood up and walked toward the door. "I hope one day you'll trust me." Her voice was calm again. "I hope you'll let me decide what I want."

The day I had left the Cullens came back to my mind. Was I taking away her choices, just like Carlisle had done to me? I went beside her and circled her hunched shoulders.

"It's better if I go," she said lamely. "I'll be at home all day, though. Jake has organized a dinner with some friends tonight, but if there's anything..."

I drew her toward my chest. Was it the last time she was letting me embrace her? She thought I didn't trust her. It felt so wrong. There was no one I'd ever trusted more than her. I'm losing her this way. "Would you come here for dinner tomorrow?"

She nodded, then opened the door and left.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Saturday, March 10, 2007

The heartbeat of the second, younger deer, which had gone unnoticed so far, made me stop in my tracks. I gulped, suppressing my thirst, and let the fawn sprint away with its mother. The trees around me became a blur as I ran in the opposite direction. By the time the fawn became an adult, he wouldn't need to be worried about a vampire hunting in the woods where he lived.

I allowed myself the flick of a dream: Bella and I running together in the woods, without any need for me to hide from her. Speed was the only aspect of my nature that I wouldn't have been ashamed to show her.

I let my memories lead me back to decades ago, to the day of Esme's first run with Carlisle. I recalled the moment he had told her about what he was and what she had become. Centuries after the end of my existence, long after any traces of Bella's life on this earth would have disappeared, somewhere in the world Carlisle and Esme would continue to love each other. I thought about Elisabeth and Edward Masen. How had they felt when death had pried them apart? They had spent decades together, for better or for worse. If there were any afterlife, were they reunited again? Was their son Anthony with them?

None of that was possible for Bella and me. A sharp pang of longing hit me at the thought that we wouldn't stay together as long as I desired.

What if I tell her everything? Absurd as it was, the idea began to tempt me. She would have thought that I was crazy. I want her to know me. I have always wanted her to know the real me. Would she believe me? Would she believe I had never wanted to lie to her?

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Walking back toward my house, I spotted Bella on my doorstep. When she noticed me, her heart pounded in her chest—but not out of joy. She was tense, a thousand questions in her eyes. She clutched a piece of paper in her hand, clearly nervous. I tried to embrace her, but she recoiled from my touch.

"Bella, what's wrong?" I urged.

She gave me the folded sheet.

"Good evening, Edward. Or should I say, Mr. Cullen?"

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Author's Notes

Someone is in trouble...tell me your theories!

As Oscar Wilde said in The Importance of Being Earnest, "The truth is rarely pure and never simple."

Many thanks (and a ticket, LOL) to Camilla10, Marlena516, Jmolly, and Katmom. Go read their stories!

On h t t p : / / myreadinglounge. blogspot. com/ you can find An Italian Winter's extras.

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