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not beta'd
Word Prompt: Veteran
Dialogue Flex: "Thank you for your service."
Charlie, Sue and I order room service in the morning. Over coffee, eggs and bacon, we talk lightly about things, as if this is just another day. It's easier this way. We've been through the heavy discussions and sad times, and we've accepted it somewhat. There is no avoiding the inevitable, so instead, we move forward.
It's not horribly dreadful, but nor it is joyful, because as soon as the conversation falls silent the reality of my life comes back with a slap, and it's all I can do to shove down the sadness. This is it. It's my life. The choices I made years ago, months ago, days ago...all influence the rest of my existence.
At seven o'clock, there's a knock at the door.
Emmett and Rosalie enter, followed by Jacob, Sam, and Paul. I have such a soft spot for these guys. I've gotten to know them pretty well during the past year and a half, and though they were simply "doing their jobs", they've become fixtures in my life. I give each of them quick hugs, even Paul, who smiles a sliver before stepping away.
"I...thank you for your service," I say, swallowing. "You've done an excellent job in keeping me safe and I just," I take a deep, calming breath. My emotions are running high again; it's a wonder I'm not back on my meds. "I just want you to know I appreciate you. Please be safe."
"Always," Jacob says, eyes crinkling kindly. Perhaps more than any of the other Marshals, he has been the one I've gotten to know best, and sometimes I think I detect some affection coming from him. He always keeps things professional, though. I know he's got a lot of respect for Edward, and for what we've been through. "It's been a pleasure."
I give Emmett a quick, one-armed hug as we sit down. He pats my knee and clears his throat, obviously ready to get down to business.
"Well, Bella, this is it. Once we go over this stuff, you'll be brought to the airport with your new identification papers. This is it. You'll never be Bella Swan again, okay?"
I nod, the enormity of it all threatening to overtake me. This is insane.
"While you're free to do as you please, we obviously suggest you avoid the Bay Area and surrounding regions due to members of the crime syndicates who have not yet been identified or incarcerated. Simply put, it is not safe for you here. It might never be. I'd suggest you avoid Forks and Phoenix, Arizona, for the same reasons. You never want to willingly put yourself into a situation where someone could ID you."
Sue, sitting beside me, squeezes my hand.
I stare at the packet of paperwork in front of me. "I understand."
"All right. Your flight is in two and a half hours. Let's finish this up and do what we have to do."
High above the clouds, I sip on water and gaze at the endless blue outside my window. My mind reels at all I've been through, and I feel it'll be some time before I'm fully settled. It's difficult to believe it's actually over, that Aro and Caius and most of their cronies are behind bars, or, in some cases, dead.
Some are in hiding, of course. There are those who ran when things started going down, people who're waiting for the dust to settle. They'll capitalize when the time is right, and life will go on. Then there are those who, like me, testified in exchange for freedom or protection. I don't know who they are, just like they might not know me, but I know they're in WitSec.
And then there's Alec...my memories of him. Before moving to Forks, I'd given Emmett the engagement ring, asking him to sell it off. He had, depositing the money into a special account, one that becomes available when I start my new life with Edward. The other ring, the one I'd had since high school...that one was harder to get rid of. It was a symbol of happier times, of when the only things between me and Alec were love and hope.
I didn't sell that one.
Instead, I tossed it into a river during one of my walks with Edward while living in Forks. It seemed fitting, somehow. He didn't ask and I didn't offer, but I think he kind of knew. It was my way of mourning Alec's life, and the horrible way it ended.
Now the only jewelery I wear are the rings from Charlie and Edward. I can't wait to see Edward. It's been months, and though we've shared a couple of phone calls, thanks to Emmett and Jacob, it's nothing like being together. Before the trials, I'd seen Edward nearly every day of my life for the past two and a half years.
Just a few more hours now.
Finishing my water, I put the empty cup on the tray table of the empty seat beside me. I reach into my carry on for my book, a novel Sue got me for the flight. To my surprise, she's written a quick note on the inside.
Thinking about you and praying for you always.
Love, S
Grinning, I run my finger over the script, wondering when she had time to write it. Then, something slips from between the pages. It's just a postcard; nothing's written on it.
It's the Bay Bridge, focusing on Yerba Buena.
My heart squeezes. I look closer, thinking automatically about Charlie, and then I see it, written in tiny letters down in the corner.
Live your life. Don't hold your breath.
I'd always remembered that; I'd never realized he had, too.
Tears spill. Tucking the postcard back into my book, I clench my eyes shut and turn my face to the window. Silent sobs rack my body, but I hold them inside, not wanting to make a scene. This is my moment, and I don't want to share it with anybody.
After a time, the sadness passes. I'm tired now, the build up and subsequent release of feelings and emotions having left me boneless. Snuggling down under my fleece hoodie, I drift.
The Miami Airport is utterly insane.
The last time I was here was on my return trip from the Cayman Islands. Incredible how my life has changed since then.
I hope Edward's here; he must be. I don't have a phone yet, but he does, and Jacob made sure he forwarded my information to him as quickly and judiciously as possible. I glance around baggage claim, but he's nowhere to be found, so I grab my own bags and stagger out to the curb, wondering what he's driving nowadays.
A minute later a silver Volvo SUV pulls up. I squint into it, and the blond inside squints back, grinning. I run a hand self-consciously though my short little pixie cut, terrified he'll hate it.
He jumps out and comes over slowly, that sexy, crooked grin playing at his mouth.
"Hey, Charlotte."
"Hi, Peter."
We stare at each other for a minute, unsure and overwhelmed.
"You cut it," he says, coming closer.
"Is it okay?" I ask, touching it again.
"More than okay. It's sexy," he says, finally close enough to touch. I think he's going to take my bags, but instead he takes me into his arms and holds me tight. "I missed you."
"I missed you too," I breathe, running my fingers through his hair. It's long again. "Blondie."
"Is it okay?" he teases, and I know he's nowhere as insecure about his hair as I am about mine.
Although, I definitely prefer him with his natural bronze color. "It works," I say, kissing the corner of his mouth. He kisses back, running his hands over my hair. It feels amazing, actually. Maybe I'll get used to my hair being like this.
He pulls away, grabbing my bags. "Let's get out of here. We have quite the drive."
Edward's not joking. By the time we finally make it our of the Miami area, where road work narrows the sprawling I-95, it's past eleven. Emmett and Jacob have kept him abreast of what was going on, and I know there were parts of the trial made available for public consumption via the news, but I fill in the personal details. He does the same for me, describing our new home as unlike anything he's ever experienced.
If he has to spend the rest of his life in one place, he says, he's infinitely glad it's Islamorada, a cluster of islands within the Florida Keys. I can scarcely believe it myself, and if the Keys are this majestic in the moonlight, surrounded my glimmering water, I can only imagine what it's going to be like in the day.
No one here knows who we are, but Edward's made a couple of friends as Peter. It's going to take some time for me to get used to not only answering to another name, but actually being another person. Edward, at least, has had plenty of practical experience doing this.
"Helloooo," he says, wiggling my fingers. "You still awake?"
"Yeah. I'm here." I turn to him, smiling sleepily.
"Thought I'd lost you, there."
"Nah, just thinking. It's going to be hard being someone else."
"It takes time. Just...you're still you. It's the outward stuff that changes, not the essence of what and who you are. Make sense?"
His words remind me of something he told me once a long, long time ago. And, as I'm sure he intended, it's reassuring. "Yeah."
"Good."
"So...tell me about your new friends."
"Well, there's Randall, World War II veteran who lives a street over. He's been schooling me in fishing." He grins, shaking his head. "And Alice and Jasper, our neighbors. They're always having me over for dinner. I think they feel sorry for me."
I remember him mentioning them during one of our phone calls."Why?"
"'Cause I'm usually pining away for you."
"Stop," I laugh. Although, honestly, I've been pining for him, too.
"I'm serious," he says. "The story is that you had to stay behind to take care of your mother." He glances at me in the semi-dark, passing lights flickering over his face.
His fingers intertwine with mine. I nod. "Emmett told me."
Eventually, my jet lag starts to catch up with me, and though I don't want to fall asleep yet, I allow the conversation to peter out. Bridges and highways turn into main thoroughfares, which soon give way to small, residential streets. Edward pulls into a wide, lit up driveway framed by large trees: palms and and oaks dripping with Spanish moss by the looks of it.
"So...this is it," he says, cutting the engine.
I gaze up at the house. It's a two story, not too big, nothing remarkable about it from the outside. Perfect.
We grab my bags and walk around to the front door, which is, oddly, on the side of the house. It's nearing summer, and despite the fact it's late at night, the air is sultry and humid. I can't imagine what it's going to be like tomorrow.
"I'd show you around, but it's kind of late," Edward say, resting his keys on the kitchen counter. It's barely sinking in that this is my house. My house with Edward. For good. When we're actually married, this house will be in both our names. New names, but our names nonetheless. It's surreal, this whole thing. I'm half-afraid I'll wake up alone somewhere, and this will have been a long, crazy dream.
"Yeah, I just want to shower and sleep," I say, yawning. I want to make love too, but for once I'm just too tired.
The house, what I see of it, is nice –although it needs a personal touch. A feminine touch – mine. I can't wait. But for now, all I care about is the big, comfortable bed and the sliding glass doors that look out on to the water. I take a quick shower, trying not to get my hair wet because I don't feel like drying it, and fall into bed. The sheets are cool, and Edward and I slide around in them for awhile, kissing hello and kissing good night. It feels so good to be with him like this, knowing that we are finally free to love each other and live normally.
The muffled crash of waves can be heard if I listen closely enough, and that is what I hear as I fall asleep.
song: The Staves - Mexico
happy veterans day to my fellow americans who have served. thank you for your time and sacrifice. you are appreciated.
one more chapter and then, that's it.
thanks for the love, loves.
xo