Hey, guys, again, I'm sorry for the long wait...everything seems to be going so slowly at the moment.
Just watched the finale of season 5 Grey's Anatomy...any grey's fans here? All I could do was cry...George AND Izzie? What are they trying to do to us?! (sorry if you haven't watched it yet, but people who have, do you agree with me? Any theories? I would like to know because I feel pretty bleak right now.
Anyhoo, so, this chapter may be a little...angsty, just because I feel that way.
DISCLAIMER – Again, all the characters belong to stephenie meyer. The story belongs to me, since I thought of it...i guess my friends get in on that too :P
Read on, my brave warriors!
Bella's POV
I collapsed onto our bed, curling up into a ball and sighing deeply, feeling as if I should be crying hysterically, but too tired to even bother to try. It was all getting too much for me – all I wanted now was to go to sleep and deal with everything that was going on when I woke up.
Hopefully Alice would be better by then.
Jasper had explained that their baby – a little boy, Jamie; Alice had been right – was in the intensive care unit. He was very small, he'd said, but not too underdeveloped...his size was the real problem. "He's not ready to even be taken off the machine yet," he sighed sadly, "he needs to be kept warm and helped to breathe, but the doctors say he'll be alright."
I couldn't even raise my head when Edward came into the room, "Bella?"
"Yeah?" I yawned, playing with the edges of Edward's sweater as I listened to him swap his clothes for pyjama pants and a shirt.
"Are you sure you're ok?"
"We just need sleep," I yawned again, used to referring to both of us: that was what Edward always meant.
He crawled in next to me, tugging the duvet right up to my neck then wrapping his warm arms around me, pulling me into him so we were lying back-to-chest. I settled into the pillows, sinking against my weight, and dropped my head back, resting it on Edward's chest. I laughed hollowly, "Soon you won't be able to do this anymore."
He chuckled quietly, playing with his fingers which met across my growing stomach – just, "I don't think I will, my heavily pregnant Bella."
"Not so pregnant yet," I grumbled, "Still four months to go."
"They'll fly by," he said confidently in my ear, "Before we know it, I'll be panicking and you'll be sitting on the sofa eating peanut butter, even if you are having contractions."
Doubtfully, I replied, "I think I'll be too busy screaming in pain for that."
He was quiet for a few seconds – the silence felt musing – then he said, "You're not ok, are you?"
"I am," I contradicted, "Just a little...frightened, is all."
"Of what?"
"You know perfectly well what," I said, turning in arms so I could see his face in the half-light, "I'm frightened of...everything. Of something going wrong, of the baby being hurt..."
I could have gone on for hours, but Edward stroked my cheek gently, "Nothing's going to go wrong," he said confidently, "It'll all be absolutely fine."
"But Alice..."
"That was a problem because she's so small," Edward said reassuringly, "and there were...complications that we couldn't have foreseen."
"That could happen with me," I said seriously.
"It could," he agreed slowly, "but," he laid one hand gently on my abdomen, which was noticeably stretched now, "it won't."
"How can you be so sure?"
"I'm not," he said, truthfully again, "but if you just have confidence in our little boy or girl, they'll pull through, even if anything does happen. They're stronger than you think," he or she kicked out then, hard, and Edward smiled, "You see?"
"Yeah, I see."
"Now, get some sleep, and we'll go see everyone in the morning."
"Do you think Alice will ever get better?" I suddenly said, worry still gnawing at me, and Edward sighed.
"Bella, in the morning, please?"
I sighed huffily, "Alright, fine."
Edward chuckled and kissed the top of my head, "Goodnight, my love."
That morning, just as we were about to leave, the mailman came, "Morning," he said jovially, sticking a letter into my locker, just as Edward ran upstairs; he'd forgotten a pillow of some kind.
"Morning," I yawned, taking it out with a small smile at him; he nodded to me and left as I slid my hands under the tab, not bothered to look at the address.
Dear Miss Swan
Thank you for your letter of the 3rd of March confirming you are interested in our offer, we are all looking forward to meeting you.
The interview date is 10th April, if this is difficult, please give us a call and we'll arrange another date.
Yours,
Laila Webb
Random Task Publishing Head Office.
"Great," I thought, rubbing my eyes, "That's good." I was really too out of it still to be happy, even though this job sounded perfect for me.
I folded the letter up and put it in my bag, intending to show it to someone later, but another letter in my locker caught my eye.
Picking it up, I saw it had nothing but my name on it.
Much as the first one had.
Oh no.
Hands beginning to shake, I picked it up gingerly, slowly sticking my hand under the seal and opening it.
Taking a deep breath, I began to read, and, little by little, the blood trickled out of my face and turned to ice in my heart.
Bella,
I suppose I shouldn't be sending you this. I suppose I shouldn't be sending you anything, but I can't seem to stop myself. You've probably moved on by now...forgotten me, and I hope I'm not making anything worse by sending you this.
I hope you are doing well, wherever you are; last I heard you were off to New York, to go to college. I'm proud of you for that, you know, but I guess that doesn't mean much. I also heard you found someone; I'm proud and happy for that too. You deserve it...you always did.
Bella...I don't know what to say. I don't even know why I'm writing now, when I could have years ago, but I know I have to say something. I'm sorry...so very sorry, for everything I've done and for everything that's happened. I can't explain to you where I've been, or what I've done, or why I haven't contacted sooner; I would, but it's too long and too stupid a story to tell. I would explain why I've been away all these years, but it's not an adequate excuse at all.
It's all more complicated than it seems. I could say it's all none of my own fault, but, truthfully, it is.
Jessica knows. A few weeks ago, she came back to Forks, alone, without Kate, and she found me. I daresay her response was much like yours would be. I can't tell you who sent you both that package, because I don't know. I'm happy they did, though, but I know you might not be.
But, I'm coming to New York now. Whether you'll see me or not, I'm going to come. This is just a...heads up. Just in case you want to see me. I'll explain if you do. I want to see you, see who my little girl has turned into. You aren't my little girl anymore, though, are you? I hope I haven't lost you completely, but fifteen years is a long time.
Know that I think of you every day, and I miss you. Every single day. I wish it could have been different, Bells.
Love (with everything I am)
Dad.
My mind went blank. I stared at the innocent piece of paper as if it were a bomb, the scratchy, messy writing, so like my own, blurring and jumbling into a mixed up mess that I couldn't make sense of.
Had my dead father just sent me...a letter?
No...no no no no...
This could not be happening. Not again.
I took a deep, shuddering breath, hardly noticing as my lungs screamed for air, and held the letter tightly, reading it through again and again, the words still making no sense. It was impossible.
My eyes fixed on the last word: Dad.
Dad.
It couldn't be true.
Dad.
Edward interrupted my shocked, dead silence, "Bella? Bella? Are you ok?"
I didn't move a muscle, my fingers gripping the paper, leaving dents in it as they began to shake violently. "It's...it's..." I forced out, "Him."
Dad.
Edward reached out and read it, as I hugged myself tightly, pressing my eyelids together, trying to block out the words as they shouted in my head, taking over my mind.
Dad dad dad dad dad....
"Bella..." he said softly, "Oh, Bells..."
"It's not true," I finally said, my voice breaking, my eyes snapping up to stare at him desperately, "He can't be coming...he's dead!"
"I don't think he is..."
"No! He's not!" I shouted, "I made my peace with it, he's not allowed to be alive! He's not allowed to do this to me!"
"I know, I know," Edward pulled me into his arms, hugging me even as I stood completely still, not even able to cry, only anger pulsating through me.
"He's not allowed to be!"
"I know..."
There was a ring on the buzzer; it sounded ominous, somehow.
Edward and I both looked round; there was a curly-haired man standing on the other side, behind the frosted glass.
I glanced at Edward, then left him, one hand rubbing my head, to open it for whoever was out there, fully intending to throw the letter away first chance I got. It wasn't as if it could be true. There was no chance.
No chance at all.
Slowly, I clicked open the lock, then pulled on the door, tugging it open.
As it fell back, the man on the other side was revealed, and I froze in horror.
He had dark mahogany, curly hair, which was just starting to thin; deep brown eyes, the exact same colour as my own. A fisherman's hat, and many more lines on his face than I remembered.
His eyes widened as he looked at me, and his mouth began to quiver.
"Bella?" he stammered out, and I shook my head, stumbling back a pace, even as my world began to spin.
I lost my footing, swaying dangerously, and as I felt myself tip backwards, I heard Edward and my father call my name, even as the whole world went black as my head cracked on the floor.
The ringing in my ears was the last thing I heard before I slipped away.
I know it sucks, don't worry, you don't need to tell me!
Thank you for all your reviews, they make me so happy, and I'm sorry for not updating sooner...school exams start soon, so.
Review? :D
Love, ATO xxx