A/N I forget to post warnings so…this fic has underage drinking, lemons, limes, foul language, etc. Thank you Jennday for your help on the sticky parts.
Happy Birthday ABG! Enjoy that hangover, doll : )
AngryBadgerGirl & LillyBellis make this legible, but SM still owns it.
I used to have demons in my room at night
Desire, despair, desire
So many monsters
No More I Love Yous - Annie Lennox
"Dad," I said, shocked that he was actually standing in front of me. I wiped the sleep from my eyes, and then pinched the inside of my wrist to see if I was really awake.
No fucking way!
It only took a second before I was moving forward with a smile that threatened to split my face in half. Bella was right those times she told me to have faith that my parents would come around: when she'd remind me that having hope in them was not a lost cause. Although, I'd begun to question her optimism—wanting to spare myself from disillusionment—I should've just trusted her.
Now, I was glad I was wrong, seeing as how my wish had been fulfilled.
I stared into my father's olive-colored eyes, taking in his unruly hair—that hadn't been tamed with age—noticing it was now a silvery-gray streaked with slivers of auburn, rather than the other way around. His waist had extended, and his slight paunch was visible under his starched white shirt and charcoal suit jacket.
Parts of him looked unrecognizable, as if he had aged ten years in the months it'd been since I saw him. Even so, he still could pass for a fifty-year-old. He looked so much like I imagined I would at his age that I couldn't help but appreciate the tangible differences.
"You're here!" I said, tightly wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders. He awkwardly patted my back, seemingly confused by my fervent display of emotion.
"Well, son," he began, a strenuous groan leaving him as he slowly took a seat on the piano bench. He moved his hand to massage his left knee, trying to work out a kink. "Your mother said she told you when we'd arrive. I don't understand why you're so surprised. Elle said she mailed you a postcard just a few weeks ago," he added, using the pet name he'd given my mother.
I wanted to tell him that I stopped looking at any postcards they sent me a few months ago in an attempt to move on with my life, that I was on autopilot whenever he or mom would call to tell me of their whereabouts. Answering with 'I'm fine' and 'sure I'll see you soon' whenever another empty promise of a visit was made.
"Strange, Dr. Cullen seemed to think that you'd be away for the weekend," my father remarked.
Not wanting to even think about how awful the trip to Washington was, I motioned to his leg. "Are you alright?" I asked.
"I'm fine. Traveling can be detrimental to your physical health," he complained. "I'm afraid my knees can't handle the pressure of another lengthy international flight."
"Where is mom?" I asked, fighting the urge to roll my eyes.
"After that Latino fella—chatty one, isn't he? Well, after he let us in, he told us that the Cullens had extended an invitation for lunch. I sent Elle up and said I'd be up after I saw my son." He smiled at me then, and I couldn't help but return it.
He wanted to see me first. Ha!
After I thought over what he said, I corrected him. "You mean, Ross? He let you in," I said, wanting my father to address him by his name. He arched one furry eyebrow at me in a way that was highly condescending before he continued on as if I had said nothing at all.
"I didn't realize you allocated a room to a cleaning service, son. You should have contacted us. We would have made sure it was taken care of. Surely, they have reputable businesses in Oregon that can house their own employees," he said, abhorrence clear in his expression.
The happiness I experienced upon seeing him was quickly replaced by confusion as I took in his words. Yet, once I fully comprehended what he was saying, my world came crashing to a halt.
Bella in my bedroom, frantically fighting off some emotion that was between shame and anger as she rushed to dress.
Jesus, my dad had seen her naked!
Regrettably, that couldn't be the worst of it because it only explained how humiliated she looked. I had a feeling being caught in the nude had little to do with how upset she was.
"What the fuck did you say to her?" I asked.
"You'll do well to watch your tone," he warned, gradually rising to his feet to stand before me.
"Yes, sir," I automatically corrected.
"What did you say to Bella?" I repeated, forcing myself to relax as I flexed my fingers at my side. However, I couldn't help but feel sick to my stomach that this was how our reunion was beginning.
"Bella is it?" he questioned.
"Yes, my girlfriend. What did you say to her?"
"Oh, I see," he said. His voice was contemplative, and an unreadable expression clouded his features before he bowed his head. "A young man needs to…explore. God knows I did," he muttered nonsensically. He breathed out heavily, pausing in his mumbled tirade so that he could carefully choose his next words. As he slowly exhaled, he looked me in the eye.
"I simply reminded her of her place; I assumed she was the housekeeper." He lifted one shoulder as if to say 'innocent mistake.'
"Her place," I responded tersely, "is wherever I am." I shook my head, realizing I hadn't been dreaming at all, but part of a waking nightmare. "How dare you tell her to leave!"
He seemed amused by my defensiveness. "I dare because I have the right to, son. Unless I've missed something and your name is on the lease now?" I obviously had nothing to say on that matter, therefore I remained quiet. "I thought not," he said smugly, answering his own question.
I'm sure I looked foolish to him as I shuffled my feet in an attempt to expel all the negative energy within me. Scrubbing my hands up and down my face, I began counting my breaths, trying to make it crystal clear that he would respect Bella. Silencing my internal (expletive laced) diatribe, I wondered if I even had the right to be upset. I mean, what could I say?
"Oh, it's okay, Dad. I can see how you came to that conclusion. I thought the very same thing when I first met Bella. But you have no right to make such mistakes!"
God, I am an asshole.
"Look, Edward," he began, and it didn't escape my notice that he was no longer calling me son. "Let's skip the theatrics this visit, shall we? Tell me how Portland's been treating you. How is school going?"
Ignoring his comment about my theatrics—something he'd tell me whenever I'd ask them to come home, or stay longer if they were already with me—I took a deep breath. If he was willing to make an effort to squash whatever this was, I could too. I just needed him to see that what I had with Bella was real, and not some meaningless fling.
"Portland's been great, Dad," I carefully began. "The Cullens, Emmett, everyone has just been…fantastic. But Bella has been the best part about it all." He harrumphed but made no further comment.
"We are expected upstairs, and you should see your mother. Go make yourself presentable and meet me there," he said, turning on his heel and heading toward the door.
I muttered a 'yes sir,' knowing it was best to leave things as they were for the time being. Besides, I didn't need to tell him how much I loved Bella, I could easily show him. With this thought in mind, I made my way back to the bedroom.
Bella was fully dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed when I returned.
"Are you okay?" I asked immediately, moving towards my closet and pulling out a pair of black slacks, a white-collared shirt, and a blue v-neck sweater.
"I'm mortified, Edward. Your dad saw me naked and…"
Once I zipped my pants, I walked over to her and placed my hands on her shoulders, effectively cutting her off. "I'm sorry about that. I really had no idea they were coming here. I mean, can you believe it?" I asked, thinking about how long I'd waited for this day.
"Yes," she replied without hesitation, the conviction in which she answered pulled me back into the present. "I just wish I could've met your father under different circumstances. Edward, I don't think…"
"Don't worry. We're meeting them for lunch. We need to go up to the Cullens, now," I said distractedly. She reached out and touched my arm before I could turn away. And as always, my whole world stopped as all of my attention honed in on her.
"You're really happy, aren't you?" she asked. I shrugged, but knew my face gave away the excitement I failed to contain.
"Yeah, I am."
"Listen, Edward, I'm happy for you…so happy," she said, forcing a smile. "But I think maybe I should go home and you can call me after they're…up to speed on everything."
What?
"What?" I asked. "No, no, you're coming with me. I want them to meet you. To know you," I said.
"And I want to know them, too, Edward. It's just that I don't think your father is happy with our relationship," she said, studying her tennis shoes. "I heard you guys talking, and coupled with what he actually said to my face…Well, I really think its best if you do this alone."
"I'm sorry, he shouldn't have said that. Now you can see that the asshole gene runs in the family," I joked, trying to get her to smile. The corners of her mouth pulled up just the tiniest bit, so I continued before she could argue.
"Together," I said simply, pulling both of her hands into mine as I stooped to meet her eyes. There was no need for me to give her any further explanation. I felt like the only reason my parents were here to begin with was because she had willed it to be, and I was ecstatic to have all the people I loved in one place. She looked unnecessarily worried, a trait that was so uncharacteristic of her. Yet, given the events of the past few days, I wasn't surprised that she expected the worst.
"I love you, Bella. Please do this with me?" I kissed her softly on the lips as I awaited her answer. Her leg started to bounce as she sighed in defeat.
"What should I wear?" Pulling her off the bed, I twirled her once in my arms.
"Happy birthday, baby," I said, leaning in to press my lips to hers in a brief kiss. "I love you."
Upon seeing my mother, I instantly smiled, making my way to the dining room to greet her. Bella had zigzagged her way to the kitchen as soon as we entered the home, telling me she was going to see if Esme needed help with anything.
It took me longer than expected to drag Bella out of the house once I was dressed. The only clothes she had with her consisted of jeans and tees, and when she noticed my attire, she changed her mind about coming with me. In jest, I told her to just go in the nude because it would be an excellent icebreaker. After she threw the book of poems—her birthday present—at my head, she eventually settled on her nicest blouse, telling me to get moving because it was 'now or never.'
"Mother," I greeted, bending down to kiss her cheek before I inspected her for any differences in her appearance. She was as beautiful as I remembered, if not more so, with her sparkling amber hair that hung in loose curls around her face. The deep jade of her skirt and blouse matched the flecks in her gray eyes. Something about her seemed a little off, or rather surgically altered. But as I gazed at the source of my chin and nose, I couldn't find it within me to care.
"How are you, dear?" She asked inattentively, her hands moving to my hair as she tried to subdue my wayward locks. "You need to shave," she said, her hands migrating to my beard and swiping at the hair there as if she could dust it off. "This makes you look old, and no one would believe I have a child this old."
Shrugging, I took a step back. Bella told me once that she liked my scruff—'I like you all cavemanish' were her exact words—so I planned on keeping it until I absolutely needed to shave.
"Edward!" Esme said happily, coming forward and engulfing me in an exuberant hug. It was the kind of greeting I expected from my own mother, but I guess beggars can't be choosers.
"Hi, Esme," I said, feeling the heat color my cheeks as I returned the gesture. She gripped me tighter as she moved her lips to my ear. I thought she was going to politely kiss my cheek, but she spoke instead.
"I tried calling you several times while you were away. They told us they were coming the day after you left," she hurriedly whispered.
Not comprehending why Esme would want to alert me of their visit, I patted her back. "It's okay, Esme. I think the worst of it is over," I said, thinking that Bella would've appreciated the warning after this morning's debacle.
She slightly pulled away as if she were trying to gauge my true feelings, but eventually shook her head and squeezed me once more before turning to address my mother.
"Lunch is ready. Shall we?"
Following her lead, we headed to the formal dining area where my dad and Carlisle were already seated.
"Edward," Carlisle smiled as both he and my father stood from the table when the ladies entered before me. "How was your trip, son?"
Shitty.
"It was good, thanks for asking Da…um, Carlisle," I said, catching myself before I called him dad.
Weird.
Once the ladies were seated, we followed suit. My father, mother and Carlisle sat across from me. Esme was on my right—across from Carlisle—and the chair to my left was empty.
"Where is Bella?" I quietly asked Esme while my parents talked Carlisle's ear off about their new found love for Canada.
"She's changing clothes. She wasn't comfortable being the only one in jeans," she softly replied.
"She looked fine," I argued.
"She always does," Esme agreed with a twinkle in her eye. "But Bella is a little apprehensive about meeting your parents, dear. The more confident she feels about herself, the more relaxed she'll be," she offered.
I nodded, but naturally felt uneasy with Bella's absence. Deciding to give her a few minutes before I went to find her, I focused back on my parents, trying my best to pay attention to the conversation.
"Carlisle tells us that you've taken a job at the hospital, Edward." Dad said, finally finished bragging about the property they'd purchased in Vancouver.
"Yes. I go in for training later this week," I said, fingering the heavy base of my juice glass.
"Is this job related to a specific field of interest?" he prodded. "It's important that you buckle down right now, choose a career path. At your age, I had already decided on my major. I did work, mind you. But not at some meaningless job for money," he scoffed. "But for my father."
"At your age, grandpa was around to show you the ropes," I mumbled, staring at my fruit covered plate.
"What was that?" Dad asked as Esme soothingly touched my wrist.
"The job is part of an internship. He'll earn school credit for his time and it shouldn't interfere with his studies. He'll have the opportunity to pick up valuable skills that will be helpful for whatever occupation he chooses," Esme cut in.
"Well, well, I guess that's fine then. If you can't maintain your grades with this job…we'll have to revisit this issue."
"Yes sir," I answered, feeling unnecessarily chastised.
"So, what brings you into town?" Carlisle gratefully changed the subject.
"I've been trying to get back for a while now, but Elle here has planned out my whole retirement. Maybe she'll give me a break when I'm dead," he heartily chuckled.
"Not even then, Ed," Mom teased.
"Anything for you," he adoringly replied without missing a beat. They shared a look that was disturbingly sweet, and I looked away, my eyes landing on something more pleasing to my sight.
"Bella," I said, my breath leaving me in a whoosh. Tossing the napkin that was laid across my lap onto the table, I speedily rose. Carlisle stood as well upon seeing her enter. And my dad…looked put out and surprised at her arrival, but eventually he lazily made it to his feet.
Walking around the table, I placed her silken hand in mine as I admired the lovely pinkish dress she wore. With each step she took towards our seats, her dress would inch up her legs, teasing me with a glimpse of her toned thighs. Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, flaunting the delicate curve of her neck and collarbone which simply distracted me from forming a coherent thought, let alone verbalizing one.
Bella—witchy woman that she was—raised one eyebrow at me, silently telling me she knew exactly what I was thinking and now was not the time. Playfully smirking at her, I dropped my lips to her cheek.
"Where did you get this dress? Its…there are no words for how delectable you look," I said lowly, watching as goose bumps pebbled across her skin.
"Rosalie. And I owe her my first born for helping me out," she whispered. I smiled, making a mental note to buy Rosalie something to express my gratitude, and to let her know she was not getting her hands on my future children.
Wait…What?
Pushing those insane thoughts away, I took in the perfection that was by my side. Bella always looked perfect to me—whether she was dressed for comfort or in something super girly—but the sex appeal that radiated from her now...
Shaking my head to clear the avid images of her lifting her dress up and sliding down over my cock, I cleared my throat and turned to my parents.
"Mom, Dad. This is my Isabella," I introduced, barely able to take my eyes off of her. She ducked her head at the sound of her full name rolling off my tongue—even in public unable to hide her reaction—but quickly recovered, pushing her shoulders back as she made eye contact with my parents.
My father nodded, but didn't take her outstretched hand.
"We've met," he said, taking his seat.
"It's a pleasure to formally meet you both," Bella said as she quickly dropped her hand to her side and tucked her chin into her chest.
Inwardly sighing, I looked to my mother, hoping that she would be more considerate. She did have the good grace to smile, but didn't offer any other form of greeting.
We sat down for an interesting lunch, conversation flowing easily amongst the Cullens, Bella and me. Yet, whenever Bella spoke up, or when Carlisle and Esme would brag about her accomplishments, my parents had nothing to say in response. As a matter of fact, nothing she said or did garnered more than pitiful smiles and annoyed sighs from them. And as each moment passed, I grew more irate.
There wasn't anything that could be viewed as boring or ordinary about Bella, and she deserved their recognition.
Bella didn't let it get to her, though. At least she didn't exhibit any outward signs of distress. She put her best foot forward, obviously wanting to make a good impression, and was poised and faultless in her every movement. She even nudged me at one point because I let my elbows rest on the tabletop.
I knew that, like me, Bella endured countless etiquette classes. But it was odd watching her seamlessly slip into overly-refined mode. Not that I thought she was normally unintelligent or crass, but seeing her like some kind of Bella-bot bothered me. Especially knowing it was somehow for my benefit. I just wanted her to be herself. Nevertheless, she still went unnoticed by the two people I wanted to see her the most.
It was as if she didn't exist.
Interlacing my fingers with the hand Bella lightly rested on my thigh, I angled my body so that my lips scarcely brushed the shell of her ear.
"I love you, Bella," I breathed, unable to find the right words to apologize for dragging her into this awkward and degrading situation. I knew my parents were more than a little dismissive, and were often overly pretentious. But this was the first time I'd witnessed them treat anyone so poorly.
Maybe this was common for them, and I just didn't understand it for what it was when I was younger. Or perhaps I was blind to their less than accommodating behavior because they didn't spend enough time with me for me to truly know them at all.
Either way, I couldn't help but be appalled by their manners. Not only were their actions insensitive, but they also made me feel ashamed, and completely bewildered as to how we even shared the same DNA.
"I know," Bella replied just as quietly, turning to look me in the eyes. I hoped she could read in them all of the things I couldn't say in present company. I expected her to say that she loved me in return, but instead she told me, "I just want you to be happy."
Coercing a smile on my face, I turned my attention back to the others, instantly seeing the shocked expressions on my parent's face. A quick glance around showed me that everyone was looking at us with heightened interest, although Carlisle and Esme seemed especially proud.
Carlisle coughed into his napkin, refocusing our attentive audience and stood to the clear the table.
"I've got it, honey," Esme said, rising as well and began collecting plates.
"Nonsense, love. Elizabeth mentioned she wanted to see the greenhouse, so why don't you give her a tour? You can show Bella the Viburnum you've planted as well." Carlisle suggested. "We'll stay down here and have some coffee."
"Ladies?" Esme gestured towards the exit. My mother and Bella both stood at the same time, ready to follow Esme out. Bella slowed as she walked past me, reassuringly squeezing my shoulder on her way out.
"Sounds delightful," Mom said noncommittally. Had she always been this impassive?
Once we were left alone, I helped tidy the table as Carlisle brewed a pot of coffee.
"I've been thinking, Edward," Dad began, his improvisatory tone indicating that whatever he was about to say, he hadn't been thinking about at all. "Well, first I should tell you that Elle and I are thinking of settling down."
Sure you are. Just like you settled down in Washington, right?
"Quite frankly, I can't keep up with your mother like I use to," he continued, the corner of his lips turning up with some sordid secret I did not want to be privy to.
Dad—at sixty-one years old—was seventeen years mom's senior. Their age difference was something I never questioned growing up as it was pretty common in the circles my parent's frequented. Aside from that, Dad took good care of himself, and he wore his age relatively well. Even today, he looked liked he should've been sailing a yacht in Saint-Tropez as opposed to reaping the benefits of an AARP membership.
Mom probably had him on the verge of a heart attack considering that she was sort of a thrill seeker. From skiing to horseback riding, she never liked to be still. Come to think of it, she was always the one pushing me to get more involved with sports, karate, fencing…Typically, Dad would just go along with whatever she said, adding his two cents when asked.
"So, what do you think, Edward?" Dad asked. "You'll get that first stamp on your passport."
"Think of what?" I asked, not even bothering to pretend I had been listening.
"Are you feeling alright?" he questioned, sounding more aggravated than concerned with my absentmindedness. "We're going to be selling the house in Forks. The London property is already in escrow. We've purchased a home in Shaughnessy—just west of Vancouver," he reiterated, as if he were reviewing bullet points off a presentation. "I'm thinking you should come with us." My breath caught in my throat at the implication.
They want me with them?
I grinned at the thought. Dad noticed my unveiled happiness and chuckled at my expression. Distracted by this development, my mind immediately began making arrangements. Most importantly was how I needed to persuade Bella to come with me once we graduated. She was a year ahead of me, and I knew that asking her to put her life on hold while I finished school was asking a lot. But if she was amenable to the idea, and decided to come with me…there was just no possible way my parents wouldn't grow to love her.
"Dad...I don't even know what to say," I stammered, but quickly found the absent words. "I haven't decided on a major yet, but there's still time for that. And if I don't take the job—no offense Carlisle—and double my workload, I should be able to finish in maybe three years. Then I need to see what Bella wants. I know it won't be easy to leave Charlie and her friends behind, but we could be there within no time," I rambled.
"Son," Carlisle and Dad said in unison.
Looking up, I tensed at seeing both of their pained expressions.
"Son," Dad reiterated as Carlisle tensed beside me. "I don't mean when school is over, I mean tomorrow. We leave in the morning," he explained. "And I meant the invitation for you and you alone."
"Absolutely not," I said, jumping to my feet so fast my chair fell back, its sharp sound startling us all. "You just said that you didn't want me to have a job because it would distract me from my studies, but now you want to me to leave school altogether, without Bella?" I asked confusedly. "What is this really about?" I asked, flinching at the loudness of my voice.
"Ed," Carlisle said. He walked around me and righted the chair I kicked back and gently pressed on my shoulders until I sat down. "I believe Edward has adjusted well here. He's very independent and is already on the fast track at the university. Did you know he's doing some senior level coursework?" he asked, surprising me that he'd remembered that from when he took me to orientation. "I think it would be detrimental to his…future if he uprooted at this point. Not to mention the internship he was offered is with one of the largest hospital systems in the U.S. He'll be working right along with the CPA, learning the Masen trade," he said with a tight smile, and then shot me a look that said 'don't contradict me.'
I didn't. Even though I knew I would be sitting at a desk checking patients into the ER.
"Be that as it may, he can learn that anywhere. From his own father even," he retorted, before turning back to me. "You haven't been in school long enough for it to be an issue. You could transfer to UBC in Vancouver. I'll see to it that everything is handled."
That sickening feeling I'd had all through dinner came back full force, the same knots of foreboding wreaking havoc on my stomach.
"This doesn't make sense, Dad. Why now? What have I done to finally deserve your undivided attention?" I questioned, letting my overworked emotions get the best of me.
"You will respect me," he snapped back.
"Why?" I asked, a morose laugh escaping me. "What reason have you given me to?"
"Ed, just give him some time to think it over," Carlisle calmly interjected, no doubt weary at seeing us both red-faced, our noses merely inches apart.
"The time is now. I am your father, Edward. Have I not provided for you?"
"Not in the one way that I needed you to," I said, realizing belatedly that I'd given voice to my innermost thoughts. The sound of heels clicking across the floor silenced any further conversation, and I used the much needed interruption to put some space between us. As soon as Esme, Mom, and Bella were back in sight, I faced Carlisle.
"Thank you for having us over, Carlisle. Sorry for the additional theatrics," I quietly apologized, but said it loud enough for Dad to hear. Not waiting for a response, I walked straight to Bella. Grabbing her by her elbow, I spun her around, pulling her behind me as we left the Cullens and all of that fuckery behind.
"Edward, slow down," Bella said as I made quick strides towards the exit. Still, I didn't let her go until we were behind the closed doors of the elevator.
Pacing around the small space like a caged bull made it hard to decipher anything Bella said to me. Although, I did catch the expression on her face, and swiftly looked away. I was grateful that the elevator dinged, granting me reprieve from the pity I saw there.
Once back inside, I told her to get her things, and I would take her home. I didn't want her around for the inevitable shit storm that was—without doubt—on its way. Hell, I didn't want to be around for it, either!
Taking a seat in the foyer, I unseeingly gazed at the piano, cringing when I heard the front door open.
That was quick.
I didn't need to look up to see which one of my parents it was; I could feel his animosity from where I sat. Dad entered the room with a sigh of discontentment, resuming his pacing in front of the piano as if he'd never left the spot. As he furiously tugged on his hair, I got up to go and check on Bella's progress.
"Edward, wait," he commanded. Bracing myself, I came to stand a few feet in front of him.
"I don't see what the problem is, son. A child should want to spend time with his family." Laughing at the irony of his statement, I folded my arms across my chest, clenching my jaw tightly when my hysteria calmed down.
I'm not a child anymore.
"The problem is that this is exactly what I've always wanted, but you offer it now, so easily? " I asked, not really making any sense.
"Then take it!" he shouted. "You act as if though this is some life altering decision. You'll still be in school. You'll still have your goddamn independence. Hell, I'll find you a job at the hospital there if it will make you feel better. Haven't you heard that you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth?"
"Make me feel better?" I bitterly recited. "You really think I should look at your parental responsibility as if it's some gift? Are you fucking serious?"
"Watch it…" he began before I cut him off.
"No, you watch it," I seethed. "You and mom—who couldn't be bothered to even accompany you for this little chat—have left me alone for…years! And because I want to finish school you're treating me like a stubborn child?
"The only thing I've ever wanted was for you two to care…about anything concerning me. And you haven't. As parents you have completely failed, as loving and caring human beings…You. Have. Failed. Now that I have people that actually care how I'm doing, care if I'm happy, or whether I'm lonely or not, you want me to just up and leave it all on a whim?"
"These people aren't your family. We are!" he yelled, before taking a deep breath. "I get it, Edward, you're upset. But Elle has always wanted to travel—see the world—I couldn't do all the things she wanted while I was working 16-hour days. When I retired it was easier to give her those things. Doesn't your mother deserve to be happy, too? To get what she wants? I'm sorry if you felt like we haven't been there for you, but we're here now. Let's not do this," he said, obviously trying a different, diplomatic approach.
"Fine," I replied coolly. "After I graduate, I'll come and spend some time in Canada. That is, if you really do settle down there."
"That's unreasonable," he said, rapidly shaking his head.
"Okay," I drew out the word. "Let me talk to Bella, and if she's willing to come with me now, I'll go."
It was his turn to laugh at me. "Do you really think some girl is going to drop her life for you over some summer tryst? Yes, Edward. By all means, ask her," he said mockingly.
"Well, I will." Was my weak comeback. "She isn't just some girl," I said. "I love her."
He must've have underestimated my feelings for her, though I hardly think that was the case. Given his stunned expression at the Cullens, I knew that there was no way he didn't know how much I cherished her.
Before I could take a step, he called me by my full name. His face was a shade of a crimson I'd never seen on a healthy human being, and his fists were tightly balled as they slammed down on the piano keys.
"You are not throwing away your future—everything I've worked so hard for—for this girl. If I knew this was how you were spending your time, I would've been here sooner."
"What is your problem with Bella?" I fumed, absolutely confounded. "You hardly took the time to get to know her, because if you had, you'd see how wonderful she is," I explained. "Bella has done nothing to deserve your callous behavior. Nothing," I repeated. "And if you think she's distracting me somehow, you're wrong."
"My problem with her should be obvious! What is wrong with you, Edward? Your really think I'm going to allow a colored girl to weasel her way into the Masen inheritance? Let you create some half-breed child as my only heir?"
And there it was. The gut-wrenching sensation that had been prodding at me for too long had finally—painfully—began to rupture, attempting to drown me from the inside. My chest tightened, the beats beneath it stuttering before accelerating at an alarming rate. My mind swirled in a million directions as I moved to steady myself on the piano, lowering my head on its case in hopes that it would ease the pressure from my laden heart.
"You can't be serious," I panted. I couldn't breathe, and consequently pulled at my shirt's collar to seek some sort of relief. "You don't like her because she's…black," I stated rather than asked.
"It's more than that…" he fumbled, but couldn't supply me with any other reason.
"I seriously can't believe you right now. I love her, and she loves me. She doesn't care about money, she only cares about me."
"Think, Edward. Look at what you're saying. You're in love with someone you've known, what, a few weeks? Because she cares 'how your day went?' Or maybe she lets you have your way—as her kind is predisposed to do. You are mistaking this for love, son," he informed me. "You're in love with the idea of being taken care of. I get that. What man doesn't want to be looked after…?"
"No," I whispered, cutting him off as I disbelievingly shook my head. I did love that Bella did those things. I loved how she made me feel good in every way possible. But it was more than that, wasn't it? Not having a relationship to compare it to didn't help matters, but I knew this had to be love. I could feel as much.
"Yes," Dad said just as quietly.
"No, I love her," I said, my voice strengthened with the truth of the words.
"Well, I'm sorry to say I simply won't allow you to carry on with her!" he spat.
"I am not a child. I'm mature enough to make my own decisions," I retorted. "I can't believe I never realized how much of a bigot you are."
"Yes, sure, Edward you're very mature," he said, his tone overflowing with sarcasm as he drew my attention to the smiley face I'd traced on the piano's dusty black top. "This relationship will ruin your life. Do you think anyone will take you seriously when they see someone like her on your side? It's suicide. Socially, academically…think of your career."
"None of those things…" I started, but abruptly stopped when I heard the creak from a door opening followed by a soft thud. Bella was doing her best to be quiet as she obviously tried to sneak out the front door. But true to form, she dropped a book, alerting both of us to her presence.
My dad sighed in annoyance at the disturbance. "Oh good, you finally have your things. I take it you know where the door is?" he harshly asked.
"She's not going anywhere," I said. "Bella," I turned to her, pleading with her to just give me a minute. "Stay, I'll take you home. Just give me a minute."
"That's ludicrous, she can get a cab," Dad said. Trembling with barely contained rage, I glared at him. "Fine, I'll pay for it," he so generously offered.
"Stay," I snapped, my dad's attitude pushing me over my limits.
Bella looked as overwrought as I felt, dressed again in her jeans and a casual t-shirt. Her hair was wild, loose curls falling around her face as she clutched her bag tightly to her chest. She still appeared to be sympathetic, though the fury was there in her slotted brown eyes. Whether it was because of my father boorish comments, my telling her what to do, or a combination of both, I didn't know. Either way, she listened to me—without argument—making her way back to our bedroom.
I partly think she stayed just to annoy my father.
The clicking of the door served as Dad's cue to continue his rant, and I blanked out for most of the one-sided conversation. No matter what he said or did, I was not leaving Bella. While he switched between shouting at me and trying to sway me with empty promises, I thought about everything that brought me to this point.
Coveting the one thing you didn't have, and then having it forced upon you was a lot to take in.
Minutes or hours passed as he continued to persuade me to enjoy my 'fetish' for what it was. It wasn't until I heard the sound of Dad's cap-toe shoes coming toward me that I was jolted back into the present. And as he put his hand on my shoulder, I winced.
"Edward…" Shrugging his arm off of me, I said the first thing that was on my mind.
"I won't leave her. Ever," I verbally, yet quietly affirmed. I was tired of listening, tired of talking. Fucking tired of it all.
"Fine," Dad relented, his face a mask of indifference. "Look." He gestured around the room. "I don't know how long you two have been playing house, but it stops now. She is never allowed to set foot on this property again. I'll make sure the staff is notified."
"Whatever," I flippantly replied. We spent most of our time at her place, anyways.
"And if you plan to continue your…relationship," he said, as if the word was painful to say. "You're cut off. You can get your things and make your own way since you're a man now."
Smirking, I began to walk away. What the fuck ever! I had my inheritance, which I would gratefully and scathingly spend. I didn't need anything from him.
When I made it to the bedroom door, I paused, wondering how I was going to explain things to Bella. Yet, Dad—not knowing when to leave well enough alone—was determined to be heard.
"I can't believe you'd throw away your life—cut ties with your own flesh and blood—for some tramp. A nigg…"
I can't believe he has the audacity—that his lips would even begin to form—such an offensive and ignorant word!
"Bella!" I barked, flinging the door open. I needed to get her out of here before she could hear anymore of this. God, I prayed she hadn't been able to make out any of our argument. What was I thinking when I told her to stay?
Because I'd cut off my own nose to spite my face, that's why.
Once she was standing in front of me, I told her to leave. I hoped she'd find Emmett, or maybe go to Esme, but I'd pay her cab fare if she wanted to go home; as long as she was away from this. The things she already assumed—correctly, no doubt—about my father couldn't be removed from her mind. And as a result, I knew that Bella would always look at me and see the asshole lineage running through my veins.
I hated him for that.
"I'm fine," she said, pushing past me with an unreadable expression on her face. Her eyes were wide and watery, but her chin was held up high. I tried to walk her to the door, but Dad wouldn't fucking give it rest.
"Let her go, son. It is what's best."
Stomping over to him, I stood directly in front him, 'getting all up in his face' as Bella would call it. I didn't know what I was going to say until I heard the door slamming as Bella exited. The sound of her leaving…it stirred something in me, and suddenly I only had one issue to ponder.
Whose 'I love yous' could I live without?
I knew who had given those words true meaning to me. Who was there for me and truly cared about my happiness. After waiting for so long to be acknowledged by my parents, to be more than just another tax deduction, I no longer wanted their affection. In fact, they'd given me plenty of time to acclimate to their absence, so I didn't need them, either.
It was obvious that I'd put them on a pedestal, ignoring what I perceived to be insignificant flaws while I sought their approval. As evident by today, I knew they were both far from perfect—far from decent, even, and I wanted nothing to do with these selfish, prejudiced strangers. With all of this in mind, I singlehandedly destroyed the one thing I'd waited so long to have.
"I don't want you in my life. You were never really there in the first place," I seethed. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my keys, taking the one to the penthouse off the ring. "This is all you ever where to me," I said, probably not making any sense to him, but it was true nonetheless. He could only give me material things. Things I didn't need.
He was dumbfounded by my actions, stuttering as he roughly rubbed the back of his neck. "How did this happen?" he asked, more to himself than me.
I laughed when something occurred to me. "When I was a kid," I recalled. "You told me that some jobs were beneath certain people. I didn't understand it back then, but now I see what you meant. Jobs as the Masen cook, nanny, or even the driver were only okay for minorities, right?" I smiled without humor, realizing that he helped to perpetuate a repugnant stereotype.
"Thankfully, they taught me better, taught me how to respect everyone and to be a better man than you. If it weren't for your frequent absences, leaving me to be raised by your staff, maybe I would treat people as you do. Lucky for me, I'm nothing like you," I asserted. "You could say that in a way, you're responsible for my fondness of dark-skinned women," I smiled, seeing that my words hit a sore spot.
He lifted his hand as if to strike me, and I didn't dare close my eyes. I welcomed physical pain at this point, my mind and heart couldn't bear it all.
"Mr. Masen if you do not lower your hand, I promise you will regret it."
Looking over Dad's shoulder, I saw Esme, and my breath caught in my throat. She looked positively murderous, and although it was so foreign to see her this way, it didn't look completely unnatural.
"Edward, go pack up some things and head upstairs," she ordered. The look she gave me left no room for argument, and I acquiesced, going to my room and packing as many things as I could fit into my duffle bag. The last thing I grabbed was my cell phone that was haphazardly thrown across the room. The case was chipped but it was still working just fine. I quickly scrolled through it, regretting missing all of Esme's calls. There was one text from Bella, and I expected it to tell me where to find her. I was sorely disappointed with the cryptic message she'd left me instead.
And so they each spent their days until their days became an eternity. A fate of uncertainty and pain that humankind itself was not built to endure.
"What the fuck, Bella?" I grumbled. Only she would take the time to text out this convoluted shit as opposed to telling me where the hell she was!
As I made my way back out to the one-man firing squad, I watched as Esme silently glowered at Dad, evidently waiting for my departure before she spoke. Looking into his face—perhaps for the last time—I waited to feel a sentimental sadness, or maybe even abhorrence. But for once, the emotions that normally overwhelmed me were absent.
I felt absolutely nothing.
"Bella, please call me back. Tell me where you are," I begged, pressing the end call button as I aimlessly drove around in search of her.
After I left my house—what used to be mine—I went to Emmett's to pick up Bella, and to my dismay she wasn't there. I didn't think she would go back to the Cullens knowing that my mom was there, but I checked anyways, coming up empty-handed again.
My mom wasn't there either. Apparently she had some shopping to do. I couldn't even work up the adequate amount of anguish due to the fact that she had spent less than an hour with me, and wasn't at all concerned about my whereabouts. She should've have been the one to save me from Dad—not Esme.
Exiting at the nearest off-ramp, I pulled over when I came to the McDonald's that was just two blocks from Bella's apartment. My hands were shaking, and I couldn't think clearly but had the presence of mind to get off the road.
Repeatedly, I punched the dashboard, not letting up until my hands were swollen and red.
"Fuck!" I screamed, wanting to crawl out of my own skin. I needed Bella so fucking bad it hurt and I couldn't figure out why she wasn't answering her phone. Taking a deep breath, I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles ached from the exertion, and then laid my head there while I focused on my thundering heart.
With closed eyes, the nightmare that had now been near-constant tormented me, playing with stunning clarity beneath my lids. There was something about the dream that was so familiar, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. It felt like déjà vu.
In my mind's eye, I watched as Bella walked away with Paul, even though she looked hurt to be doing so. I watched as her face contorted with sadness and then acceptance when I told her to go. And as if someone had literally switched a light bulb on in my head, I finally realized where I went wrong.
I told Bella to leave, all but demanded she go home. God, how does this look from her eyes? Does she think I've made some kind of choice?
I dialed her again, getting voicemail a-fucking-gain!
Starting the car, I made my way back to her place for the second time in as many hours, knowing now that she probably had been there the whole time. I would avoid me too, so I couldn't fault her for her wariness.
"Bella," I called out, knocking—pounding on her door. No one answered.
Remembering that the patio door wasn't fully secure, I walked around to the back of the apartment. In that next moment, I recalled asking Jasper to have it fixed, and therefore, leaving me shit out of luck. Figuring I would just bang on the sliding glass door until she or Rosalie came out, I was shocked to find it easily slid when I tugged the handle. I would decide on whether to kill or thank Jasper later.
Feeling very stalker-ish, I stealthily walked to her bedroom door, throwing it open without any hesitation.
"Bella," I sighed, seeing her sitting cross-legged in the middle of her bed, clutching a pillow tightly to her body. She was more than a little apprehensive about my being there, and I wondered if she thought I was coming to tell her I was leaving. Hurriedly moving to the bed, I gently pulled her into my arms, crushing her body to mine when she tensed beneath me.
"Together," I whispered, repeating the word I'd said to her before everything went to shit. At my utterance, she collapsed into my arms, returning my hug with equal strength.
"Together." She nodded her head, before pulling us down so that we were lying side by side. We stayed that way, not daring to speak until we eventually fell asleep.
Sometime later, my eyes snapped open. Soft tremors were rocking the bed, and a hushed whimpering broke the silence. Bella's hands were securely wrapped around my torso, and I tried to turn around so that I could see her face. But she hitched her leg over my side, firmly holding me into place. Once I wiped at my eyes—to make sure it wasn't me who was crying—I asked her what was wrong. The stillness that followed stretched out for an immeasurable amount of time.
"Because I'm selfish enough to be happy that you chose me," she said, choking back a sob. Placing my hands on top of hers, I interlaced our fingers, scooting back to get even closer to her.
As long as I had Bella, everything would be okay.
A/N Pics (links) of the Masens are on my profile.
This is where I p̶l̶e̶a̶d̶̶f̶o̶r̶̶r̶e̶v̶i̶e̶w̶s̶̶b̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶̶I̶'̶m̶̶s̶o̶̶c̶l̶o̶s̶e̶̶t̶o̶̶1̶k ask you to review because you are all so thoughtful with your responses!