I must say I am a wee bit impressed with myself regarding the earliness of this chapter. Huzzah to me.
SO MANY NEW READERS LAST CHAPTER! Its lovely, and I've been told people are pimpin this story on all sorts of sites which is just mind blowingly awesome. So, THANK YOU. For reading, reviewing, pimping, enjoying, whatever. THANK YOU! Huzzah to you too.
Shit gets real this chapter.
At last we find out who the allusive "him" is. Popular guesses include Peter, James, Phil, and a couple others. And some of you are definitely correct. This, plus more surprises ahead.
I don't own.
See you on the other side.
December 31, 2010
BPOV
"Guess what?" I ask when I get home a long day of job hunting. Edward is in the dining room, pouring over medical crap. Its amazing, the amount of homework he has over break. But Edward is ever studious, and he makes time somehow, even with him wanting to fuck me ever twelve seconds.
Not that I mind.
It's a little concerning, this whole weird bubble we are existing in at the moment. And I know it will burst one of these days. I can only hope that he decides to have a rational conversation with me before then. In the mean time, I savor every moment and orgasm I share with Edward.
I put Edward in fuck buddy, relationship purgatory for three years. Now I'm serving my time. And that's okay, but eventually Edward's Edwardiness will get the better of him, and he'll want to know everything. He'll want to deduce and reason the shit out of why I left and where I was.
I just have to hope that in a reasonable discussion, Edward will listen to me and not completely freak the fuck out. I have to tell him everything before Rosalie opens her big fat slutty mouth. But she hasn't given me away yet, so I had hope that she won't.
Maybe she forgot. Right.
But even without Rosalie, I would have to tell him. I want to tell him, as much as the thought of saying the actually words nauseates me. I want him to understand. For a long time I did my very best to forget the worst of it, but now all the terrible memories come back full force. It hurts, and I know the worst of it is going to hurt Edward too.
The pain is no longer sharp, just a dull ache. But I know it will hurt Edward and the thought of his pain pains me.
"Yes, love?" he asks, turning to face me and pushing his glasses up onto the top of his head. He scrubs his hands over his eyes and stretches in his seat, indicating that he's been at the studying thing for a while.
"I got a job." I plop myself down on his lap and rain kisses on his perfect face. I've missed this face, and I revel in my newfound ability to touch it whenever I so choose.
"Really?" he asks with a grin. "So you are staying."
I punch him in the arm and scowl. "I've made it very fucking clear that I'm not going anywhere, cocksucker."
He just shrugs, and I try not to be offended. He has no reason to trust me. I'll just have to keep working to establish some permanence in his life.
Which is going to be very difficult after I confess all that I haven't told him.
"Are you going to ask me where I'm going to start working next week?" I inquire, running my hand through the hair at his temple.
"Where are you working, Isabella?" he asks, pressing a thumb into my hip, right on my tattoo.
"Well, it's nothing fancy. It's not a career or anything, but it'll do till I figure out what I really want to do with my life—"
"You're babbling," Edward says, smiling at me.
"The Laughing Goat," I tell him. Edward and I spent a lot of time at the Goat and the plethora of other coffee shops in downtown Boulder, studying and attending poetry readings. "I'm going to be a barista."
"Well you already make a damn good cup of coffee," he agrees. "But that owner asshole has always had a thing for you."
I don't tell Edward that I had a one-night stand with Tommy before ever meeting Edward, and that it's probably the reason I got the job.
"But now I can get you free caffeine whenever you need it," I point out, distracting him.
"This is true," he says.
"You know what tonight is, right?" I blurt, broaching the subject I've been dreading all day.
"New Year's Eve," he murmurs, looking away.
Two years ago tonight, I left him without a word. And he doesn't want to talk to me about it.
"Not my favorite holiday," I say, trying to sound casual.
"Nor mine," he agrees, still not looking at me.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," I tell him again, for good measure. I'll keep repeating it until he believes me.
Edward just nods.
"Maybe we can make this holiday better, shoot for a little redemption," I suggest in a quiet voice. I'm ridiculously nervous for his answer, bracing myself for his rejection.
He remains silent for a long time until finally turning to smile at me. "I would like that very much, Isabella."
When Alice and Jasper return home with Chinese food for dinner, Edward and I are cuddled up on the couch. We're watching the Twilight Zone marathon, played every New Year's. I know I shouldn't be snuggling with him like this in front of everyone, but when we're together, I can't help but touch him. My head rests on his chest and my hand rests on his thigh. His arm is curled around my waist.
It feels normal and good and right.
"Aw," Jasper says, removing his coat and grabbing a beer before plopping down on the sofa across from us. "Aren't you two just adorable? Is this the Twilight Zone?"
"Shit yes!" I tell him, learning over Edward to give Jazz a high five.
"I fuckin' love this show," he says, smiling at Alice as she brings the bag over and sets it on the coffee table.
"Where are Rose and Em?" asks Alice, emerging from the bag with some Kung Pao chicken.
"They went to get drinks with some Whole Food people," Edward explains, playing with my hair.
"So they're starting the drinking really early tonight, huh?" Alice asks, handing Jasper a fork. The man can't seem to figure out chopsticks.
"I suppose so," Edward replies. He takes a sip of his glass of wine and toasts with Jazz, a shit eating grin on his face.
"Do ya'll want some?" Jasper offers us some mushu.
"Naw, bre," I say with a shake of my head. "We already ate."
"You guys going to Jake's later?" asks Alice.
Edward and I glance at each other and have a silent debate before turning back to Alice, nodding.
"Sweet. Just like the good old days."
We all smile at each other before focusing again the television. I settled back into Edward side, perfectly content for the first time in years. Edward and I are getting back on track. We haven't talked yet, but there is time. We have time.
Three episodes later, and there is a commotion near the front door. We all turn our heads away from television greatness to see Rose and Em stumble in drunk. They giggle hysterically and hang all over each other.
I try to move away from Edward because I don't want Rosalie to see, but he holds firm as he stares down at me in confusion.
"Sup, bitches?" asks Emmett. Falling to his knees, he flops face down on the carpet in front of the television and progresses to not move.
"He's not even going to make it to midnight," Edward observes.
Everyone mutters their agreement except Rosalie who finds this statement highly offensive and progresses to lecture us all for a solid ten minutes on the stamina of her boyfriend. Jasper brings out another round of beers because we will all need alcohol to deal with Rose tonight.
She is in a mood, and it makes me nervous. Again, I try (with little success) to distance myself from Edward's side.
Eventually Rose burns herself out, and seems to notice Edward and I on the couch for the first time.
"Oh this is just fucking great," she says, swaying in front of the TV and gesturing wildly with her perfectly manicured hands. "Look at you two, all fucking cozy."
"Rose, please," I say, trying to get her to stop talking. Rose is drunk and mad and I hope that she doesn't say anything in her rage.
"No, don't even fucking talk to me, you lying bitch," she snaps, glaring at me.
"Whoa," Edward says, sitting up from the back of the couch and glaring at Rose. "That's completely uncalled for. Don't talk to her like that."
"Edward, it's fine," I say, attempting to play peacemaker.
"No, its not fine," he says, snapping at me now. "I don't want to hear it."
"Of course you don't," yells Rose, flailing her hands widely. "You never want to hear the truth. You want to live in the fucking dark about her. You don't want to see what she really is."
"That's enough, Rosalie," he yells right back, clenching his fists. I'm paralyzed with fear, that Rose will say something Edward won't understand. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"I don't… I fucking don't!" Rose growls and babbles and I can tell. She's about to do it.
"Rosalie, please," I plead, willing her to feel a little compassion. I'm not ready, and neither is he. Edward hasn't listen to me yet.
"Tell me, Edward," Rose says, completely ignoring me. "Have you and Isabella talked yet?"
"That's none of your business, Rose," Alice says, trying to diffuse the situation.
"Rose, just sit down. We're gonna leave for Jake's soon," Jasper says. He usually is so good at bringing calm to the house, but Rose isn't listening.
"So you haven't," Rose says, grinning evilly. She's getting joy in my pain, the drunken sadist. She's pissing me off. I've put up with a lot of her crap because I left and deserve it, but I'm quickly reaching the end of my rope. I don't have a lot of experience, not fighting back. "You have no idea why she left."
"I don't know what—" Edward starts, but Rose is on a roll.
"I know. I know something you don't know," she taunts.
"Don't, Rosalie," I say, my voice full of authority. Externally I sounds strong, but I don't recall ever being this terrified or angry in my life. This bitch is going down if she can't keep her yap shut.
"Bella has a secret." Her singsong voice has me leaping up from my seat next to Edward, fists clenched at my sides. I'm seriously close to slappin' a hoe.
"Shut the fuck up, you conniving cow," I hiss between clenched teeth.
"Why the fuck should I? You just waltz back in and act like nothing's changed. Like you own the fucking place. Well you don't, you filthy whore," Edward growls at that one, but I'm solely focused on my former friend in front of me.
"Rosalie Lillian Hale," I seethe. "You shut your mouth right now. You promised me."
"No," she spits at me. We square off with the coffee table between us as everyone else watches. Except Emmett. I'm sure the housemates are alarmed. They've never seen Rose and I go toe to toe. Back in the day, we had some real fights. I thought we'd grown up, but she's drunk and belligerent and dangerously close to ruining my life.
"Yes!" I insist, actually stomping my fucking foot.
"Fuck no!" she shrieks. "I've kept my fucking mouth shut for two fucking years because I would not be responsible for hurting him even more." Rosalie gestures in Edward's general direction. "It was goddamn pathetic, what you did to him."
"Rose, you don't know what you think you know." I'm getting desperate. If Rose stops now, Edward will have questions. The boy always has questions. But if I can just have the chance to answer them, to explain, everything will be all right. He has to forgive me.
"I know that you left pregnant and you came back baby-less," Rose booms, making my heart fracture in my chest.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I bellow through my sobs. I Don't even realize I am crying, but the tears are hot on my cheeks.
"So what was it, Bella?" she demands, getting in my face. Again, I hate that I have to look up at her. My hands are shaking, and she needs to stop. She doesn't understand, and her accusations are killing me.
"Shut up!" I repeat, really crying now.
"Do I have a niece or nephew being raised by strangers somewhere across this glorious country?"
"I told you to shut the fuck up!" I scream.
"No, you're too selfish for the adoption route," she decides, still yelling. "It's much more likely you aborted the thing."
She called my baby a thing.
Without conscious thought, I hurl myself at Rosalie, slapping her face with one hand and strangling her with the other as I kick her shins. She shrieks, stunned for a moment before she retaliates by yanking on my hair.
But I don't feel it. My pain is much more acute. I've been living with the pain for two years.
Our catfight really only lasts for a couple of seconds before Jasper forces himself in between us. With a final growl, Rosalie marches off in the direction of her bedroom. Alice and Jasper gape at me in shock. A new disgust is apparent on their faces, but they don't really matter. The thoughts of only one person matters.
I turn quickly on the spot, searching out the green gaze of Edward, determined to explain, but he's already gone. I leap over Emmett's passed out body, sprint down the hall, scrambling around with my socks on the wooden floor. It takes me too long to get to the front door. By the time I throw it open, all I can see is the taillights of Edward's Volvo, disappearing down the street.
Happy fucking New Year.
December 6, 2008
"Rosalie!" I bellow as I step through the front door of the Goss house after finishing all my classes for the day. Edward is at the hospital, and I need Rose's help procuring his Christmas present before he gets home.
I've never really gotten him anything before aside from the random gift purchased or created on a whim. A CD in knew he would like. A huge ass coffee cup to full his caffeine habit. Nothing is even thought out and everything is spur of the moment. I wasn't planning on getting him anything for Christmas, but what I saw is so perfect, I can't not get it for him.
"Stop screaming at me, slut," she replies from the direction of the living room. I toss my jacket over the back of a chair along with my backpack before marching over to Rosalie. She's flipping through a gossip rag. How she manages to do so well in the notoriously hard engineering program is beyond me.
"Get up," I demand.
"What? Fuck no," she replies, scowling and putting her face back in the magazine.
"Please," I beg, kneeling down next to her, grabbing her hand and giving her the puppy dog eyes. "Pleeeease."
"Why?" she asks, still not looking at me.
"Rosalie, did you know that Edward plays the piano?" I ask, glancing at the wide leather watch on my wrist, frowning as the hands move to quickly for my liking.
"No, I didn't. What does this have to do with me moving from the couch?" she asks, raising a perfect blond eyebrow at me.
"Edward plays the piano," I continue, besieging her to listen me with my eyes. "Like really, really well. He's like a fucking musical genius, and he never plays anymore because we don't have a piano, and he is too busy with school and the hospital and me to go out in search for one, but he's like really, really good."
"What the fuck? Is he good at everything?" Rosalie says, apparently incensed. "Music, science..."
"Sex," I add to the list. Rosalie giggles hysterically.
"That must run in the family," she says when she gets a hold of herself. "And at least Edward has no social skills. That makes me feel better."
"Can we get back to the piano?" I ask, getting frustrated.
"What piano?"
"I was walking home today and there is this piano sitting on the curb with a sign stuck on it declaring its freeness. We need to bring it here. For Edward. For Christmas," I explain, feeling like an idiot. "We can hide in the man cave."
"Yeah," Rosalie says with a snort. "There is no reason for Edward to be in the man cave."
I refrain from punching her in the shoulder only because I need her help. "Rosalie. Please focus."
"You want me to help you carry a piano down the street?" she asks, sounding horrified.
"Well, roll. It has wheels. Is Emmett or Jazz home?" I ask, glancing around somewhat frantically.
"I thought you told Edward not to get you anything because you aren't getting him anything," Rose clarifies, finally having enough interest in the words coming out of my mouth to put her magazine down and give me her full and undivided attention.
"Rosalie, the piano is just fucking sitting there!" I'm completely exasperated at this point.
"Okay, okay," she says with a giggle. "It's just so much fun to see the emotionless Bella Swan all flustered over a guy, and if you punch me like I can tell you want to I'm so not helping you."
She is right. I am acting weird. I don't get emotional and have been a down right zombie since Charlie's death. But this opportunity to make Edward happy is right in front of me. I can't ignore it.
"So you'll help?" I ask, perking up immediately.
"Yes, puppy dog," she replies, patting my head condescendingly. "Em's in the man cave. Go get him."
Five minutes later, I'm dragging Rosalie and Emmett down the street, holding each of their wrists.
"What are we doing, again?" Emmett asks Rosalie, marching along behind me. "I don't think that I've ever seen Bella move this fast."
I'm focused on my undertaking, so I don't even care that they're talking about me like I'm not here.
"She's on a mission from God," Rosalie states simply.
"Okay, John Belushi," he says with a chuckle. "That really clarifies things."
"It's still here!" I yell in triumph before dropping the hands of my laborers and dashing over to the free piano.
"This is what we're searching for?" Emmett asks. "Why?"
"You know Edward plays the piano," I say absently pressing down on a few random keys. "And I know it's not a fucking grand baby or fancy or whatever like the one at your parent's house, and the keys are clipped and it's probably horribly out of tune… but something is better than nothing right?"
"You want to bring this home for Edward?" he asks.
"For Christmas," I mumble, blushing furiously. "I can hire someone to come tune it right? Unless you think it's stupid. It's probably stupid. Never mind. Let's just go with the original plan of not getting him shit—"
I'm prepared to keep babbling, but Emmett wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a bear hug. I squeak as he spins me around.
"It's perfect," he says. "Let's roll this thing."
Rosalie complains the whole time, until we get about a block away from home.
"I'm not used to you being this thoughtful," Rose says because she knows her words will piss me off.
"I'm not being thoughtful," I snap.
"You are so totally into Edward, your boyfriend," she continues.
"He's not my fucking boyfriend," I reply.
"Yeah, yeah," Emmett says dismissively.
"I mean it. I just happened upon this piano, it's not a big deal." I want to continue defending my honor but I am interrupted when the undeniable urge to vomit over comes me. The next thing I know, I'm hurling in the middle of the street.
"What the fuck?" screeches Rosalie.
"Gross," says Emmett with a laugh. "Seriously, Bella. What's wrong?"
"I have no idea," I reply, feeling completely bemused.
"Does the thought of actually dating my little brother make you sick?" asks Emmett.
"No," I say, shaking my head and standing from my crouched position. "I really don't know what happened. I feel okay now."
We all decide to ignore that bizarre little incident and manage to get the piano down into the basement. Edward never goes down there, so it will be a surprise come Christmas.
December 19, 2008
"If you could go anywhere, where would it be," Edward asks softly. We lie naked and wrapped around each other in his bed.
I've just graduated college. I am a college graduate. I have degrees in English Lit and Creative Writing. And I did it all a semester early, to save Phil some money.
I always thought I would feel more accomplished somehow. I'm the first in my family to graduate. But now I'm the only one left in my family, so maybe that's why I don't feel accomplished.
I should have spent the last few months lining up jobs and interviewing for internships. But I couldn't. I've been too busy being numb and caring even less then usual. The only time I feel anything real is when Edward touches my skin.
Like he is now.
"Anywhere?" I clarify.
"Anywhere," he nods.
"Africa," I reply immediately, closing my eyes and focusing on the sensation of Edward's fingers tracing over my skin.
"Really?" he asks, sounding curious. "And why is that?"
"I dunno."
"Yes you do," he presses.
"We're children of the rift," I murmur. "It's the motherland."
"That's a very good answer," he says, holding me tighter.
"Plus, I really like giraffes."
"Proof God has a sense of humor," Edward says.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I demand, thrown by his unexpected reply.
"My mom used to say that," he continues. "When we were little kids. She used to say that the church's version of God was too stuffy for her and all you had to do to see the proof of God's sense of humor was to get a good look at a giraffe. I mean, they are really funny looking."
"I don't think I believe in God," I say. "Do you?"
"I'm not really sure," he admits. "I believe in science and medicine. But I also believe the human body is a miracle. I believe that we are children of the rift, but also that creation had to start somewhere."
I like this answer so I kiss his shoulder because it is the closest bit of skin to my lips. I close my eyes and drift.
"So let's go," he says, bringing me back from the brink of sleep.
"Go where?"
"To the rift," he says. "What's that? Kenya? Ethiopia?"
"We can't just go to Africa," I say, chuckling.
"Why the hell not? You just graduated, I'm going to graduate in the spring. So let's just go," he murmurs in my ear.
I sigh heavily. The Edward-post-pones-grad-school-to-play-night-in-shining-armor-to-zombie-damsel debate is exhausting me. He's trying to save me by putting off school. I can't let my poison and living dead-ness prevent Edward from reaching his potential.
"You're going to grad school. You've already taken the GRE," I say warily.
"Fine. I'll go to school at UCD. We'll get an apartment together in Denver and you can write," he suggests for the zillionth time.
"I don't want you to be my sugar daddy," I tell him, rolling away and pulling my body into the fetal position.
"I wouldn't be your sugar daddy," he says with a laugh, spooning himself around me. "I would even let you help pay rent."
"You already basically are!" I insist.
"How so?" he asks, openly laughing at me now.
"You still haven't let me pay you back for the tickets back to Forks for… you know." I don't even want to think about that so I can't bring myself to talk about it. To talk about Charlie.
"I told you not to worry about that."
"And you have let me live here for months paying ridiculously low rent. I told you that I don't like being in debt. I don't want to owe you anything," I say sadly.
"Can we please not argue now?" he sighs. "It's time for sleep."
"Okay. No more arguing. But you are going to grad school next fall," I reply.
I feel his lips smile against the skin at the side of my neck. "Goodnight," he says.
"Goodnight, sweetheart."
"I love you," he whispers.
"I know," I reply. What I mean is, I know he thinks he loves me, the poor delusional fool.
December 20, 2009
I'm late.
And not for a very important date.
I'm the horrifying, life-changing, vomit-inducing kind of late. The kind that requires big decisions. Big horrifying, life-changing, vomit-inducing decisions. I am so ridiculously late that I should have noticed the lateness weeks ago. But I didn't because I am a zombie moron more focused on graduation than the very obvious signs my body has been sending me.
It has practically been spelling it out in fucking neon lights, waring me that something is very, very wrong.
I stand in front of a shelf of pregnancy tests and curse the universe. Yet, on the bright side, at least I'm feeling something for the first time since my dad died.
Too bad its absolute panic.
The universe is a fickle bitch, and I would make a shit mother.
Shockingly, I've never had to do this before. Even with all the sex I've had, this has never happened to me. I've always been careful. I'm on the pill, and this shouldn't be happening. After standing still in aisle seven for a full twenty-five minutes, I grab a few boxes at random before walking single-mindedly to check out.
"Hello," says the pimply high school clerk. "How are you today?"
"Fine," I lie with a scowl.
"We'll I can't complain," he continues as I stare at him blankly. It seems I've lost all social skills since I connected the dots between my lack of period with all the puking I've been doing lately. "Especially when lovely ladies such as yourself choose my register."
I raise an eyebrow at him and abruptly drop my purchases on the conveyer belt. He balks and sputters a bit before ringing me up. I thrust some cash at him before getting the fuck out of there.
No one is around when I get back to the house on Goss. After drinking four cans of Rosalie's Diet Coke- something I realize later that is not good for the thing possibly growing inside me- I drag my sorry ass to the bathroom. I pee on three little sticks just to be sure. I have to be sure about this.
I line the pee sticks up on the counter and remain seated on the toilet, bent over with my head in my hands.
Rosalie barges in on me as I wait, and I almost fall the fuck into the bowl.
"Bella, can I borrow your… What the fuck?" She trails off and then yells at me, obviously seeing all her Coke cans and pregnancy test cardboard boxes and sticks on the counter.
"Get the fuck out," I grumble, head flopping forward into my hands again. It's suddenly too heavy to hold up. Like a baby. Oh God, I'm gonna puke.
Abruptly I leap off the toilet and empty the contents of my stomach.
"Holy shit," Rosalie mutters, closing the bathroom door behind her.
"Please leave," I beg, my head still in the bowl. I hate being this vulnerable. Especially around Rosalie, my twin believer in showing no weakness.
"Holy shit," she repeats. "What does blue mean?"
I groan again and vomit as Rose confirms my very worst fears. I hear Rose scrambling around, picking up the boxes and reading directions.
"Holy shit," she says again. "You're preg—"
"Do you even fucking say it," I yell, picking myself up off the floor and pulling my toothbrush out of the medicine cabinet.
"But—"
"Rose!" I gargle through a mouthful of Crest.
"What are you going to do?" she asks, ignoring all my requests.
I spit in the sink and attempt to still my shaking hands.
"I have no fucking clue," I respond, sighing heavily.
"Now that you're going to be a mom, you should really cuss less," she says matter of factly.
I punch her in the arm before puking again, making the whole tooth brushing thing a complete fucking waste of time and paste.
"You can't tell anyone," I mumble with my head back in the toilet. "Not Em, not Alice, and especially not Edward."
"But, Bells—" she ventures.
"Just promise, Rose," I insist.
"Fine. I'll promise if you promise to tell him eventually," she says. I want to argue, but she cuts me off. "This isn't just your kid, Bella. You have to tell him before you decide what to do."
"But, I—"
"I mean it! No sneaking off by yourself to Planned Parenthood," she says with a scowl.
"Fine. I promise."
December 25, 2008
I sit curled on a couch in the living room and clutching a mug of tea with one hand. Waldo is in my lap, and Edward sits in front of me, and I run my fingers through the hair at the back of his head as I observe the Christmas morning festivities.
Edward always gets me something far too extravagant. Last year it was the sleeping kitty in my lap, and this year it's a beautiful cameo pendant necklace.
He doesn't know about the piano is in the basement yet.
I watch everyone revel in the Christmas spirit in silence. I always feel separate from my friends, and the holidays are worse. Especially this year. Carlisle and Esme flew in several days ago, and all the family-ness is making me feel ill. Well, ill-er. I went to the Black's for Christmas Eve, but tonight I have to sit through dinner with the Cullens and even worse the Hales.
I just keep looking at all of them, wondering how they will act when they find out. Although they will make a great family for my baby, I doubt I'll ever feel accepted.
Esme will probably be so disappointed in her perfect little son. For the most part, people hear about the dead Dad and awol Mom thing, and pretty much leave me alone. But Esme isn't like that. She pushes me, tries to engage me in deep conversation. If Edward is around, he saves me from his mother. Plus I don't mind sticking close to him.
Rosalie's parents are here too. John and Marlene have always disliked me. I was the kid from the wrong side of the tracks, an early form of Rosalie's rebellion against her parent's lavish lifestyle. I am sure they were thrilled when Rose and I stopped hanging out sophomore year of high school, and now they are polite to me but still turn up their noses in distaste. They are cold and superior. Edward doesn't like them either, but they rest of the Cullen get along with the Hales just fine. They come from the same world.
It's like a game of Guess Which Thing is Not Like the Other in this living room. The easiest round ever. I'm in leggings, thick socks with frogs on them, and an oversized flannel shirt of Edward's. Even the casual Christmas morning attire of the rest of them is classy. They look put together. I look like a hobo.
All the presents are unwrapped and everyone disperses. Rose and Esme retreat to the kitchen to cook Christmas dinner. The boys wander into the living room. Edward starts to get up, but I put a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, come with me downstairs?" I ask quietly. I'm oddly nervous about showing him the piano. Esme glances at us, but I ignore her questioning stare as Edward nods, looking a little surprised. I've been avoiding him since finding out, and he knows something's up, but I think he is attributing my silence and distance to the holiday.
Last year I was with Charlie, and somehow December makes me miss him even more.
"Into the man cave?" he asks, with a chuckle as I lead him down the stairs. "I can't even remember the last time I was down here."
"Oh, I know," I reply clutching his hand as we walk down the stairs.
"There are less smelly parts of the house to steal a private moment," he teases. He actually makes a good point. The basement is pretty much Emmett and Jasper's domain. There's a foosball table, a Boflex, a mini refrigerator full or beer, and drawer full of bud. The carpets are old and thin. The lighting is poor and the air is drafty. Edward rarely has a reason to venture down here, so it was the perfect hiding place.
"Just close your eyes," I tell him when we reach the base of the stairs. Sighing, he does as he's told. "No peaking," I scold.
I grab his hand and lead him over to where the used piano sits under the only window in the basement. I pull out the piano bench and force him to sit. Latching onto his wrists, I place his hands on the chipped keys. It's a little difficult to maneuver with the lazy cat still in my arms.
"What… Is this?" he presses the keys before opening his eyes. His mouth pops open and his eyes bug out of his head as he stares down at his fingers on the keys before turning his shocked gaze to me. "You got me a piano."
I nod, still uncertain about my decision. He just keeps staring at me, and his fingers softly spin out a melody.
"It was just sitting on the side of the road," I explain in a rush, feeling embarrassed. "These people were moving and didn't want to bring it with them, I guess. I know its nothing fancy and the keys are all chipped on the ends and the varnish is peeling and you hate this basement but there is nowhere else to put it. I can get Emmett to help me wheel it back out to the curb if you—"
"Sit down, Isabella," he says, his voice leaving no room for argument. Edward scoots over, leaving room for me on the piano bench. Letting Waldo jump out of my arms, I slide in next to him. Again, he stares at me for longer than necessary. I force myself to hold his gaze, as much I don't want to. He's making me feel a bit nauseous with the intense look on his face.
But that could be the whole baby thing. Holy fuck. I've been trying not to think about it. I know there are things to be done, decisions to be made, but I am giving myself a little time before I freak out entirely.
After a few minutes, I can't take it so I look down in my lap prompting him to finally do something. His palms cradle my face, and he kisses me tenderly. I feel all the stuff I normally feel when his lips touch mine, along with a whole lot of warmth in the region of my heart. I like making him happy.
"Thank you," he murmurs against my lips. I blush and punch him half-heartedly in the arm.
"Just play something, sweetheart," I reply, closing my eyes and resting my head against his shoulder. I wrap my arms around his waist, and basically melt into him as he coaxes beautiful music from the crappy instrument.
I get lost in his music. Occasionally, he apparently makes a mistake and curses himself for being out of practice, but he sounds perfect to me. It's like I have no concept of time, here with Edward when he plays. I don't think about the baby, about what the fuck I'm going to do with my life, about Edward's constant desire to put off his life to fix mine.
I curve my body around his, keeping my cheek against the back of his shoulder blade as to not disturb his piano playing. I'm sure I look ridiculous and clingy and needy, but I don't care.
At some point, I open my eyes to see Esme emerge at the bottom of the stairs. She looks confused at first, but she must seeing something she approves of on my face because she gives me a small smile before disappearing up the staircase.
December 30, 2008
I find myself standing alone in front of Planned Parenthood. I need answers. Definitive answers and options. I need someone to ground me with some medical facts.
My first instinct was to get the big A, save us all the trouble. I would be a shit mother. I can't raise a kid. I have no real example of how parents act. Having a baby is absolutely not an option.
Or so I thought at first.
But as weeks went by, this image a chubby cheeked, bronzed haired little bundle of joy formed in my head. It calls to me, hangs out with me in dreams. The appeal both shocks and frightens me. But I want it. A baby can be my redemption. Maybe if I can give my baby a good life, I can make up for my past mistakes. I can make up for Renee's. I can heal.
Most of all, a baby can't leave. I have the guarantee of at least a decade. The kid won't leave me. It will depend on me too much. All I have to do is raise it right and love it, and then hopefully it will never want to leave me.
The idea of having flesh and blood ties to someone other than my mother is highly appealing. And I sure as shit would never leave it, but I might fuck it up some other way. The idea of ruining a little innocent baby is terrifying.
And then there's Edward.
He's the one part of all this I don't have any doubts about. I'm not scared to tell him. I'm not scared that he'll bail on me. Edward will be a great father, loving and attentive and nurturing. He'll love this baby. He'll take care of us. Edward will be thrilled to bring a little life into this world. Together. With me.
And that's the fucking terrifying part. Our lives would be forever linked if we had this baby. The immensity of that thought alone makes me want to never see the man again.
I'm at Planned Parenthood, because I have to make sure before I tell Edward.
He still doesn't know because I can't bring myself to tell him. Like I said, I am not scared, its more that I if I tell him, all this becomes real. I'm still not totally sure if I want it to be real or not. In theory, I don't. But logic can't explain how I already feel about the thing growing inside me. I've come close, many times, but the words get stuck on my tongue.
Edward noticed that I've stopped smoking and drinking. He thinks I'm trying to be all healthy. It would have been a perfect time to come clean, but I fucking chickened out.
So I made an appointment at Planned Parenthood, because I need to know for sure.
"Isabella Swan," a nurse calls after I finally manage to force my feet to carry me into the office. I leap up and follow her into the back quickly. The women in the waiting room are sad and pathetic and I don't want to be around them anymore. In a few months, I might be just like them.
They take my weight and my height and make me change into a gown and sit me on an examination table. The wait isn't too long.
"Hello, Isabella," says the dark haired doctor, glancing down at my chart to confirm my name. "I'm Dr. Meyer."
"Sup," I reply, shaking her hand.
"So what can we do for you today?" she asks, sitting on the rolling stool and crossing her long legs.
"Um… well… uh… I'm pretty sure I'm pregnant," I blurt, blushing like a fucking tomato. I can't believe I'm this girl. The idiot girl who has a baby right out of college. If I even have this baby.
How the fuck did this even happen? I've been on the pill since I was fourteen. And I take that sucker religiously.
"Pretty sure?" she asks, looking slightly amused.
"Well… I took like three pregnancy tests and they came out negative. I mean positive. Uh… the results were positive but I felt negative about… Anyway." I take a deep calming breath. "I just wanted to make sure its for sure before I tell my…"
"Boyfriend?" she ventures, causing me to blush.
"Sort of," I mumble.
"Baby's father?" she suggests again.
"Yeah, does this really matter?" I snap, getting impatient.
And then the exam happens. And the reassuring smile falls off the face of my lady doc at the very beginning of the ultra sound. And then she tells me that my baby is gone.
Disappeared.
At first I don't believe her. Aside from the nausea and the fear, I've felt find. No painful cramps. No scary bleeding.
She nods at me consolingly, reiterating that thing growing inside me is indeed gone. She can't locate a heart beat, and I may experience some cramping and bleeding in the next couple of days.
Apparently this happens. Apparently it's really not all that rare.
I should feel relief. I should be happy.
Nothing has to change. I don't have to tell Edward. There are no big decisions to make. My life will stay the same.
Why do I feel like this is a very bad thing?
December 31, 2008
"Bella, I am by no means complaining, but what's wrong?" he asks, totally killing the mood.
With a frustrated growl, I roll off and flop onto my back next to a mostly naked Edward. I lie there with my eyes closed and fists clenched, counting backwards from ten in a valiant attempt to not punch him repetitively. My chest heaves with my anger and lust.
"Bella…" he says cautiously when my breathing settles.
"It's nothing," I snap, attempting to get out of bed. He puts an arm around my waist, preventing me from moving.
"You have been insatiable for the last two days," he says softly as if he's talking to some sort of frightened animal. "You don't talk to me. It seems like every time I open my mouth you jump me."
"So? Excuse me for wanting to fuck you," I reply, jerking out of his grasp.
"I told you I'm not complaining." He's trying to pacify me, and his understanding only makes me madder. "And do you have to call it that? It's so vulgar."
"Oh?" I reply with false sweetness. "And what would you like to call it, prude boy?"
"Making love?"
I growl in response.
"It's just concerning," he continues. "I know it has been a rough couple of months for you with your dad. But something has changed in the last couple weeks. You're different. Even more closed off and quiet. And sad. Please just talk to me, Bella. What happened?"
"Nothin'. Same old same old." My voice is unconvincing to my own ears.
He wraps his arm around me, hugging me from behind. I close my eyes and turn to throw my arms around his neck.
"I'm sorry," I whimper pathetically against his skin.
"For what?" He is pleading with me to share with him. To let him shoulder the load. And I want to. So ridiculously much. But I can't. I just can't.
"I just don't know what I'm doing with myself anymore," I confess.
"It's okay, love," he says, rocking me slightly. "We have all the time in the world. We'll figure it out."
I nod my head and try to believe him while ignoring that familiar feeling of suffocation that makes me want to bolt.
The guilt seems to be eating me from the inside out. It's my fault our baby disappeared. I don't want him to feel all the pain I'm feeling, so as much as I want to confide in him, I don't. I can't. For once in my life, I do the selfless thing and keep the hurt to myself.
"Bella? Hello?" I jump slightly as I become aware of Jake waving a pipe in my face. Since the disappearance, I've had a hard time focusing on anything else. The only thing that can make it better is Edward. Preferably sex with Edward, because during sex he can't ask me the hard questions.
"Sorry," I mutter, accepting the pipe and lighting it twice before passing it to Jasper. Edward looks at me in concern, but sips his drink and says nothing.
"Where has your head been at lately, girl?" Jake asks with a chuckle.
I shrug and finish off my drink. Edward does the same, and for once is drinking just as heavily as I am. Maybe he's just really into the New Year. Maybe he's picked up on my apocalyptic mood.
Almost everyone I care about is here. Alice and Jasper, still in newlywed mode. Emmett and Rosalie, being as disgusting with the over the top PDA as usual. Jake, Embry, Quil, Sam, Emily. Angela and Ben. Even Kate and Garrett.
They all look so happy and normal and sure of themselves. Even Edward, despite his fucking concern for me is so obviously happy.
Everyone is laughing and dancing. Partaking in drinking games and chatting enthusiastically. They are happy. I can't relate to them at all.
Edward is pretty hammered by midnight. His kiss is sloppy, and I giggle as he picks me up and stumbles around with me in his arms. I hug him tightly and breathe him in and he lets me go far to quickly.
But when he steps away to hug his brother and twin, I just can't handle it. I need air. I can't breathe.
I killed our baby. I killed the one thing that had to stick around.
So I go for a walk, pulling my leather bomber jacket over the slinky blue party dress Alice forced me into and grabbing my purse. The cold winter air instantly calms me, and I walk.
Boulder is alive. Drunk people stumble everywhere, celebrating the end of 2008. I wander and find myself walking down Pearl Street. People bar hop, and I like watching them. I sit myself down on a sculpture of a squirrel that's part of a playground. Reclining against the tail, I light a cigarette and look at the stars, glad it's a clear night.
I don't know what do to with myself. I'm fucking drowning. Have been for a while now, but this is just unbearable. My skin itches with my desire to be anyone but me. I hate me. I'm a selfish, poisonous, baby killing shrew. It's my fault the baby disappeared. My womb is a corrupt as the rest of me. I can barely survive in here, there is no way a baby could too.
What am I going to do now?
"Well, hello there." I sit up and turn around at the sound of the familiar voice. James, of all people, stands behind me with a cigarette and a smirk. The years since I've seen him have not changed him at all. He wears his hair in the same haircut, the same beat leather jacket covers his shoulders, and his blue eyes twinkle with mischief.
It's shocking, how pleased I am to see him, and I feel my face pull into a smile.
"James," I reply, standing from my squirrel. We appraise each other as I approach, pulling out another cigarette and accepting his light. "Long time no see, buddy."
"Yeah, where the hell have you been?" he replies, still grinning.
I shrug and smoke.
"You don't look so good," he murmurs, cocking his head to the side as he studies me.
"Fuck you very much," I reply without any heat.
"Seriously, Swan. You look like you've been through the wringer."
Again, I just shrug. He gets so close that there is only an inch or two of space between us. I have to crane my neck to look in his face. He's almost as tall as Edward. He touches my face with the tips of his fingers, and I glare up at him, but don't jerk away.
Why don't I jerk away?
"Did your whole world fall apart, baby girl?" he whispers.
I shudder in response to his very accurate description.
"What are you doing with yourself these days?" he presses when I don't speak.
"I seriously have no fuckin' clue anymore."
"Yeah, the monotony is wearing on me too," he says, continuing to touch my face with surprisingly gentle fingers. "I gotta go."
"Go where?" I ask.
"Anywhere but here," he replies. "But eventually, Florida."
"Florida?" I ask, skeptical of this bizarre destination.
"Buddy of mine knows this chick who lives down there. She's going to let us stay with her if we fix up her house and land and shit," he explains.
I nod.
"We're going to take a couple months to get there, see some of America and fuck around." I'm oddly jealous of James and his ability to escape it all. I want that. I want to drop everything and start over. I want to be someone else with zero cares, zero responsibilities, zero commitments.
"Interested?" he asks.
"Yes," I hear myself replying.
"Leavin' tonight," he says. "Well, I'm going to Denver tonight. Hittin' the open highway in the morn."
"Is this an invitation?" I ask, feeling strangely hopeful. Maybe it's the Renee in me. Maybe it's the traumatizing effect of all the shit that's happened lately, but I need it. I have to leave. Suddenly, in my drunken, hazy state, this departure seems like the perfect solution.
Edward would never willingly let me go. Even though I am a poisonous baby killer, he won't give up on me. But if I leave, he will have to. He will be forced to live the life he's meant for without my corrupting influence. And sure, it may hurt at first. But with me gone, I know he will eventually see that I was no good for him. That my absence from his life is for the best.
I'm trying to be less selfish, and as much as I want to be with Edward, I can't keep dragging him down. And as much as I want him, I can't seem to breath right in the life I've created here with him. Maybe if I leave I'll learn how to breathe right.
James grins and nods.
"Do you ever want to get away from it all, Isabella?" he asks.
"Give me an hour to gather my shit," I reply.
It takes slightly more than an hour, but not much. I'm on autopilot. I don't let myself think. Thinking would lead to guilt and fear, and I don't want to change my mind. I grab only what I can stuff into a large army issue duffle, my backpack, and a leather purse. I purposely leave anything that will remind me too much of my life here.
For a moment, I think about leaving Edward a note, telling him I'm sorry for hurting him, but that is a bit too much like my mother, so I write a note to Alice instead, suggesting she gives all my shit to Goodwill.
I don't know what's worse, knowing that he will hurt or letting him go. Either way, I'm hurting him to save him from me.
I grab my moleskin and my iPod and don't even look back when I leave the house on Goss for the last time.
I've promised to meet James back on Pearl, and I feel a little ridiculous, lugging my crap through the throngs of drunk people, celebrating the New Year. Thankfully, my squirrel is still available, so I pop a squat to wait for James.
Instead I see Jake.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" I demand. "Isn't there a party raging at your house?"
"Naw, pretty much everyone has cleared out," he explains. "I wasn't ready for the night to be over so I came out with the hardcore."
Edward couldn't possibly be one of the hardcore, but my stomach drops anyway. I can't see him. I know he isn't going to be happy about this, even if my departure is for the best. Seeing him upset will hurt too much. Seeing him will make it impossible for me to leave him.
"Hey, your boy was kinda freaking out. Seems like you just disappeared," he continues, not yet noticing my bags.
My stomach twists in knots at this statement, but I squash down all the panic I feel at the prospect of surviving without Edward.
"That's kinda the idea," I admit, wishing James would fucking show up already.
"What?"
I sigh heavily, realizing I will have no choice but to try to explain. It's difficult, because I can't really even explain my need to leave to myself.
"Jacob," I say, standing to face my best friend. "I'm leaving."
"Okay, yeah that's probably wise. Edward was real drunk and real upset that he couldn't find you. Jazz and Em had to basically carry him home," Jake drunkenly babbles. "I guess I'll just see you tomorrow. Twilight Zone Marathon, am I right? Rosalie promised to bake things."
"No, Jacob," I snap, losing patience. "I'm leaving Boulder."
"That's weird," he replies. "Where will you go?"
"Dunno," I say. "I just can't stay here."
It takes a few more minutes, but Jake finally seems to understand what I'm doing. He hugs me for five years and cries into my hair when he realizes that he doesn't know when he'll see me again. Jake spends the next few minutes trying to get me to change my mind. I don't, and I sigh in relief when James finally shows up.
"You've leaving with this creep?" Jake demands. "What the fuck are you thinking? Are you sure about this, Bells?"
He sounds desperate, and I have to look away in shame.
"Yes," I murmur.
"And I'm not a creep," James interjects.
"What am I going to tell Edward? Did you even talk to him about this?" Jake asks, starting to panic.
"No," I say, shaking my head. I'm a moment away from having Jake tell Edward that I'm sorry, but I remember the pain and anger of Renee's notes. "Tell him to go to grad school. Tell him that it's for the best. Tell him to have a good life."
"Come on," James insists, tugging on my hand. "Time to roll out."
"Don't do this, Bells," Jake pleas. "You're going to crush him. And what about me? What am I going to do without you?"
I close my eyes as James pulls me away. I don't let myself look back.