First of all, a special shout-out to my new readers! I'm truly amazed and humbled by all of you who have added me to your story and author Favorites and Alerts, and who have taken the time to leave me your amazingly kind reviews. As always, I am deeply indebted to Kikiblue and netracullen for their unbelievably speedy betaing skills and for their unfailing support and friendship. They own my heart.
This chapter and the next are the ones I've been longing to write since I first started this journey. I can only hope that I've done justice to the way this played out in my mind! I know you're anxious to have at it, so let's jump right in, shall we? Oh, and in case anyone was wondering, I listened to Crazy by Gnarls Barkley pretty much the whole time I was writing this. I think you'll find it fitting!
Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended.
Hide In Plain Sight
Chapter 26: Crazy
EPOV
It amazed me how quickly I settled into the routine of living and working in London again. Routine was good; it was what I needed to distract me from the persistent memories of Bella that continued to haunt me.
At first, it was difficult. I couldn't fathom how the world continued to go on around me as though Bella had never existed. I equated dealing with her loss to coping with a death, which was probably an apt analogy considering that a part of me had died when she told me that she didn't love me. I went through all of the classic stages of grief; denial, anger, bargaining with myself, depression and finally, grudging acceptance.
Truth be told, the 'acceptance' part was an almost daily struggle. Thanks to my mother's unfailing optimism, I still held onto the faint glimmer of hope that I might someday be reunited with Bella. This was both a blessing and a curse. Most of the time, the possibility was just too painful to contemplate. I still couldn't bring myself to reach out to her. It was easier to compartmentalize my suffering and attempt to simply get through each day.
That was where the distraction of work came in, and I relished the opportunity to block everything else from my mind during the long hours of filming. Of course, my higher power, perverse bastard that he was, consistently saw fit to test the boundaries of just how much I could handle. This was proven once again when I showed up at the studio for the first day of rehearsals.
The location wasn't exactly a secret, but I still cringed when we arrived to find throngs of fans and paparazzi camped out behind metal barricades near the studio entrance. Our motley crew piled out of the rental car amid the chaos, while Alice mumbled that these arrangements 'just simply wouldn't do' and that she would 'ream somebody a new one' for allowing so many onlookers to be present around the set. Jasper and Emmett were on high alert as they escorted me quickly through the crowd, with Emmett shooting baleful glares at those unfortunate enough to be near the front of the barriers. Naturally, Emmett being Emmett, he effectively undermined his air of menace with the ridiculous t-shirt he wore, which bore the pithy adage 'I Piss Excellence' on the front, and which elicited a chorus of high-pitched giggles from the throng of teenaged girls closest to us.
Just when it seemed that we had made a clean getaway, and as we neared the front of the building, a familiar voice called out from the crowd.
"Hey, Cullen. Cullen! Over here."
I froze in my tracks and then turned slowly toward the voice.
"How the hell did that leech wind up over on this side of the pond?" Jasper muttered darkly beside me.
"Mike fucking Newton," Emmett sneered. "I shoulda known we hadn't seen the last of that bozo. Just look at him. He looks like he just got back from a week in the Bahamas."
Mike did indeed look tanned and relaxed as he leaned against the barricade snapping pictures. I wondered uneasily where he had been and why he always seemed to turn up wherever I was. Then I remembered that I actually hadn't seen him since the Gianna fiasco in Seattle.
Alice voiced my thoughts as she called out, "Nice tan, Newton. Fancy seeing you here. That rag you work for must really be paying you the big bucks these days."
Mike grinned back at her, clearly unperturbed.
"Oh, haven't you heard?" he replied nonchalantly. "I've been assigned to cover Edward exclusively now. Wherever he goes, I go. You could almost say I'm his shadow."
"Did you know about this?" I said incredulously, turning to Alice. The shock that registered in her wide eyes was answer enough.
"Of course not," she snapped, taking a firm grip on my arm and steering me away from the crowd. "I don't like this. I don't like this one bit," she said under her breath. "You're going to need to be more careful than ever now, Edward. For some reason, Newton has a real hard-on for you, and he's not going to stop until he delivers some fantastic scoop. I wouldn't put it past him to make something up at this point, so try not to give him any ammunition, okay? He's still pissed that his story about you and Gianna got buried. Don't think he's going to forget about that any time soon."
I shot a final glance at Mike over my shoulder, and he called out cheerfully, "I'll be seeing you around, Cullen. Count on it."
Perfect.
The one surprising consolation was that working with Tanya turned out to be far less stressful than I had anticipated. She pulled me aside on that first day, announced in a matter-of-fact way that she was a lesbian, and said that she hoped I 'didn't have a problem with that'. Truthfully, her admission was a massive relief. It made our romantic scenes considerably less awkward, and it allowed both of us to concentrate unselfconsciously on acting, rather than on any potential real-life sexual tension between us. It was distracting enough having Catherine leering at us from behind the camera every time she filmed us in bed together. She was obviously getting more enjoyment out of our sex scenes than we were. Now that was awkward.
Tanya and I actually developed a fairly close friendship during the ensuing weeks. Proving once again that appearances could be deceiving, she turned out to be the furthest thing from the cinematic diva and ice-princess that I had imagined her to be. She was warm, funny and down-to-earth, and I discovered that I actually enjoyed spending time with her, both on-screen and off.
Although Tanya hadn't come out publically, she didn't exactly hide her preference for women either. She was discreet about who she dated, and kept responses to questions about her romantic life deliberately vague during interviews. When curiosity finally got the better of me and I questioned her about her seeming double-life, she sheepishly admitted that she subscribed to the 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' policy that was as prevalent in the entertainment industry as it was in the US military. I could hardly blame her. As a beautiful woman who had made a career out of playing 'straight' female leads, I could understand her reluctance at opening herself up to criticism and scrutiny, no matter how archaic and irrelevant the practice was.
"People are going to believe whatever they want to regardless of what we say, Edward," she said gently. "The important thing is to live your life without regret and hold onto what's important to you, even if no one else knows it exists. As long as you stay true to yourself, that's all that really matters."
Truer words were never spoken, and it was then that I realized just how much I could trust in Tanya's friendship. We started going out to dinner and to clubs, sometimes in a group but more often by ourselves, and I slowly began to open up to her about Bella. Tanya wasn't judgmental, and she never once tried to offer me advice, but she was a good, compassionate listener and I felt comfortable letting my guard down around her.
Inevitably, we were photographed on our evenings out together, but I had already forewarned Tanya about Newton's stalkerish tendencies, and in any case, she was hardly a stranger to the paparazzi herself. We were always careful never to touch or show anything that could be construed as affection between us when we were out together. We always walked a respectful distance apart from each other, and strove to look like exactly what we were; two friends who enjoyed each other's company spending time together.
It did give me something of a pang, however, knowing that Bella might see the pictures and misinterpret them. The headlines ranged from the relatively innocuous, 'Dark Ransom Co-Stars Spend Night On The Town' and 'Edward And Tanya Dine Out' to the more sensational, 'Edward Cullen Canoodles With Gorgeous Leading Lady At London Hot-Spots'. Naturally, the latter ran on the front cover of Ok! Magazine. Newton was never one to be outdone.
I seemed to be the only one bothered by the pictures, in any case. Tanya took the media exposure simply as a matter of course, and largely ignored it. Alice, predictably, had no problem with the fact that I was being photographed with my co-star. It was all positive publicity for the movie, as far as she was concerned. Reluctantly, I tried to adopt an air of indifference about it. Maybe Garrett and Tanya were right. Perhaps I did spend too much time worrying about how others perceived me, much as I wanted to deny it.
Time passed quickly, but it had a surreal quality to it. It was fall, and it was already cold in London. Not a day passed that I didn't think of Bella. I wondered what she was doing and if she was thinking of me. I wondered if she was happy. It would have been the simplest thing in the world to pick up the phone and dial her number, and I yearned to hear her soft, sweet voice again. But with each passing day, it seemed more and more difficult to do. I hated myself for my weakness, and I hated seeing the disappointment in Esme's eyes each time I had dinner with my parents. Neither she nor Carlisle pressed me for details, but I knew that they could sense my mounting frustration at my inability to move forward.
I was well and truly stuck. I realized one day with a kind of dawning horror that the last woman I'd had real sex with had been Jane. How many months ago had that been? Surely that couldn't be normal for a twenty-seven year-old man.
On a couple of occasions when I was out with Garrett, I struck up a conversation with some young women in a half-hearted attempt to end my self-imposed sexual embargo. Invariably, however, I ended up returning to my flat alone, my only release coming in the shower with my own hand wrapped around my dick and Bella's name on my lips.
It wasn't that the women weren't interested; if anything, they were only too willing and eager to jump into bed with me, even if they got nothing more than a one-stand with a celebrity out of the deal. And therein lay the problem. I didn't want a one-time fling with a woman whose name I wouldn't even remember in the morning. I had 'been there, done that', as my American friends would say, and I knew how ultimately unfulfilling such trysts would be.
I wanted Bella, only Bella, and even looking at another woman felt like a betrayal of everything we had shared. My feelings made little sense to me, but were too powerful to ignore. I convinced myself that it was better this way. There was less guilt involved with me using my hand to get myself off than there would be if I were to fuck some anonymous woman while thinking about Bella.
And so my routine, which was both my torment and my saving grace, continued. I woke every day and contemplated calling Bella. I went to the set and filmed my scenes. If shooting wrapped early, I would sometimes go out with either Tanya or Garrett to eat or to catch a band gig. I went to my parents' house for dinner on a couple of occasions, and once I even managed to pry my father away from his hospital duties for a late lunch, as I had promised him. My days ended with me fantasizing about Bella, either in the shower or in my bed, as I stroked myself to climax. I would fall into a restless sleep shortly afterwards, and the next day it would all begin again.
The mind-numbing monotony of my routine was broken only by the occasional obligatory interview. I was always wary of the media, even at the best of times, since I had the annoying habit of saying the most random and embarrassing things when I got nervous. Thankfully, the British press was generally a bit more reserved than their American counterparts, and stuck mainly to questions pertaining to my films; both the one I had just wrapped, and the one I was currently working on. But there were always more personal questions. Some asked how I was enjoying being back in London, others commented on my hair, which had been cut and dyed lighter for my current role. One female reporter even remarked that I hadn't been photographed wearing my favorite Stoli t-shirt for some time.
That took me rather aback. Who really gave a fuck what I was wearing, and were they really counting how many times I'd worn the same shirt? The mere mention of it brought back painful memories of Bella. I had realized while I was unpacking that I must have left it in Houston. I didn't care that much about the damn shirt, but I remembered how Bella had looked wearing it, and the circumstances that had led to me lending it to her. I mumbled something to the reporter along the lines of, "I don't know where it is, actually. I must have misplaced it somewhere along the way." I attempted to deflect attention from my discomfort by joking feebly, "You haven't seen it, have you?" Naturally, the interviewer giggled, batted her eyelashes and moved on to the next question. So predictable.
At least I could be proud of the fact that despite my near-constant inner turmoil, I remained drug-free. The desire remained, but it was manageable. I still drank, though not in the falling-down-drunk quantities that I had in the past, but I steadfastly refused to revert to my old, pill-popping ways. I owed it to both myself and to Bella to stay clean. If I was ever going to figure out a way back to her, it was going to be with a clear head and a clean conscience. I never again wanted her to doubt my intentions or feel like I was using her.
Unfortunately, the repetitive pattern I fell into lulled me into a false sense of security. I was sitting in my trailer one afternoon between takes, mindlessly watching an international news program on the television, when there was a knock at my door. A moment later, Jasper entered the room with a strange expression on his face.
"Uh … boss? You have a visitor," he said quietly in his soft southern drawl. "She just flew in from the States, and she's insisting on seeing you. Just thought I'd give you a heads-up before the shit hits the fan."
I went rigid in my chair as a feeling of unreality washed over me. Bella came? She really came?
"Who is it?" I managed to croak out, as I got to my feet, barely able to contain my mounting elation. She left Jake. She finally realized that we were meant to be together.
Jasper opened his mouth but before he could respond, Jane pushed past him into the room.
"Eddie!" she sing-songed. "It's me, silly. Who else were you expecting?"
I stared at her in disbelief as disappointment settled like a leaden weight in my stomach.
"Yeah, it's 'Little Miss Sunshine'," Jasper muttered. He gave me a sympathetic look. "Guess I'll leave you two to enjoy each other's company."
Jane shot a glare at his retreating form that could have reversed Global Warming. She carefully rearranged her face as she turned back to me.
"Jane, what are you doing here?" I asked tiredly.
"Well, that's some greeting," she replied, flopping into a chair and lighting a cigarette. "What? Can't your girlfriend come visit you in London if she wants to?"
I pinched the bridge of my nose and exhaled deeply. "What the hell are you talking about?" I said. "You're not my girlfriend any more, Jane."
"Oh, come on, Edward," Jane said, pouting. "I'm a girl, aren't I? And I'm still your friend. I didn't mean all that crap I said to you back in Seattle. You know how moody I can be."
"What happened to Riley?" I said through gritted teeth. "Did you bring him along too?"
"Oh, him," she replied, rolling her eyes. "He was just a boy, Edward. It was fun playing with him for a while, but I got bored. Anyway, I'm between roles right now, and if I have to do one more photo shoot, I'm going to scream. God only knows why, but Rose was pining over that Neanderthal bodyguard of yours, so we thought it would be fun to hop on a plane and surprise you."
"Yeah, I'm definitely surprised," I mumbled. "Look, Jane, I really don't have time for this right now. I have to get back to the set, so have a nice time in London, and I'll see you back in the US in a few months."
"But, Edward, I came all this way," she whined, carelessly flicking ash from her cigarette onto the floor. "Didn't you always say that you wanted to show me around your hometown when we were together?"
I don't remember that.
"I'm only going to be here for a few days," she continued. "Come on, Eddie. Let's at least hang out tonight. For old time's sake."
I sighed. Fuck. I know I'm going to regret this.
"All right, let me see what time we wrap later," I said grudgingly. "Maybe I can get a group together and we can all go catch a gig, or something."
That seemed to appease Jane somewhat, but my mind was reeling as I left the trailer. Not only was it a crushing blow that Bella wasn't my surprise visitor, but I was also furious with Jane for thinking that she could pop in and out of my life at will. I knew that we were still contractually obligated to shoot one more movie together, and I supposed that I could force myself to tolerate her professionally, but I certainly didn't consider her a friend at this point, no matter what she said. I wondered uneasily what the real reason behind her visit was. With her, there was always an angle.
I decided that if I was going to subject myself to an evening out with Jane, there was probably safety in numbers. Of course, with my fucking luck, everyone I asked to come with us already had plans. Tanya had a date with a woman named Irina who she had met a few weeks earlier, and with whom she seemed quite smitten. Emmett and Rose wanted to spend time 'alone' together after being separated for almost two months, and I shuddered at the thought of what that entailed. Alice and Jasper had tickets to a musical, of all things. I had to laugh at the thought of Jasper allowing himself to be dragged to the theater to watch people parade around on stage singing for three hours. He really was pussy-whipped. Lucky bastard.
Just when I was starting to panic at the thought of having to spend the evening alone with Jane, Garrett finally came through for me. A friend of his was playing a musical gig, and he invited us to join them at the club later that night. I could have kissed him.
Shooting wrapped at nine o'clock that night, and by eleven I had showered, changed and collected Jane from her hotel. Perversely, I wore the black beanie that I knew she hated, and I hid my smile when I saw her scowl. She seemed to recover her composure by the time we reached the club, however, and she grabbed my hand as we approached the entrance. Immediately, I recoiled, and attempted to extract my hand from hers, but she persisted, lacing her fingers through mine and digging her sharp nails into my palm.
I swallowed my annoyance and allowed her to drag me inside. It's just one night. It's just one night, I kept telling myself.
The evening passed in a blur. To the casual observer, Jane appeared to be charming and easygoing with Garrett and his friends, but I knew her better than that. I could almost see the wheels turning in her mind, and it made me intensely uncomfortable that she was never far from my side.
Finally, the music, the crowd and the smoke became too much for me, and I slipped out the back door to the alley. I leaned against the brick wall as I lit a cigarette, and out of habit I scanned the night sky. The familiar slate-gray clouds silently mocked me, and I sighed inwardly. This was the sky of my childhood, and it should have been nostalgic for me, but instead it only served as a cruel reminder of what I had lost. I wondered if I would ever again gaze up into the clear sky of a Texas night and see a thousand stars twinkling back at me against the inky blackness; with the woman I loved standing beside me.
The metal exit door slammed open suddenly, making me jump, and Jane stumbled out into the alleyway.
"There you are, Eddie," she slurred. "I've been looking everywhere for you. What are you doing hiding out here?"
"Smoking," I replied shortly, holding up my cigarette.
Jane rubbed at her eyes.
"Shit. I think I got something in my eye," she mumbled.
"I'm sure you'll live," I muttered darkly. I knew that I sounded callous, but truthfully, any charm that the evening held had worn off long ago. All I wanted to do was go back to my flat, go to sleep and dream of Bella.
"But it hurts," she whined. "Won't you at least look at it and see if it's red?"
I sighed and pitched my cigarette away.
"Fine," I said in exasperation, grasping her shoulders and pulling her into the light. "Which eye is it?"
Jane wrapped her arms around my neck, and before I could react she planted a kiss on my lips. I heard a rapid clicking sound coming from the end of the alley, and as I wrenched my face away from Jane's, I saw Mike Newton standing in the shadows with his camera raised. Nausea coiled darkly in my stomach as I pulled away from her and made to go after Mike, but he turned tail quickly and was gone. The damage had been done.
I whirled on Jane, who was smirking at me.
"Ooops," she said. "I guess it was just an eyelash. It's all better now."
"Did you plan this?" I hissed at her furiously. "You knew Mike was following me around. Just what are you playing at, Jane?"
"Oh, grow up, Edward," she replied icily, all traces of her slur gone. "When are you going to learn to play the game? It is all a game, you know. What's your problem, anyway? We'll be doing promo tours for Zombie Killer soon. This is good publicity for you, for me and for the movie. It's a win-win-win. We have to remind the 'sheep' of who we are, or they'll lose interest."
"You're crazy," I growled, staring at her in disgust. "Don't you see that you're just feeding into it; the media frenzy, the fan hysteria, all of it?"
"You're the crazy one," Jane snarled back. "Who do you think got us here? The press and the fans made us, and they can end us too. Do you really want to go back to being a nobody, starring in some limited-release, little piece-of-shit art film that maybe ten people will see? Or even worse, playing the piano in one of those crappy little dives you love so much?"
"I'd rather be a 'nobody' on my own terms than be a 'somebody' according to your warped views," I spat. I shoved my fists into the pockets of my coat and stalked away into the night.
BPOV
I thought I'd had everything figured out. My life had been predictable and orderly, if a little safe and boring. It was like some huge, million-piece jigsaw puzzle that I had spent the past twenty years putting together, and over the course of the last several months, I had watched as that puzzle was systematically destroyed, piece by piece. We'd all had a hand in wreaking it; Jake, Edward, Angela, me, even Alice, to a degree. But now it was up to me, and me alone, to pick up the scattered pieces and somehow try to figure out how to reassemble them. Unfortunately, the pieces no longer fit as they once did, and I was obliged to force them haphazardly together. As a result, a new picture was starting to emerge; one that bore little resemblance to the old one, and one that I was still struggling to find the beauty in.
I craved the security of the normal and the mundane. The constants in my life were few now, and I clung to them with a dogged determination. I ran every day. Each day I ran faster than the day before, until my legs burned and I was gasping in ragged breaths, barely conscious of my surroundings as my vision blurred with a combination of sweat and tears. As if I could outrun my emotions.
I strove to keep my days busy and full of purpose, but the dark hours were the most difficult. I wore Edward's t-shirt to bed almost every night, feeling pathetic and childish, but desperate to cling onto that small part of him that remained with me. It was a talisman, and each time I slipped it on I prayed that it would let me sleep and keep the nightmares at bay. It broke my heart when I finally had to wash it, erasing once and for all his scent and all traces of him from the faded material. I soon became accustomed to getting no more than three or four hours of restless sleep each night, usually waking up shaking and sweating in the darkness, my screams thankfully muffled by my pillow so that Claire didn't hear them.
Even my vibrator lay lonely and unused in the drawer of my nightstand, the batteries dying their slow death. It was Edward's hands that I longed to feel on my body, his mouth hot and urgent against my skin and his eyes burning with desire. I couldn't even contemplate touching myself, giving myself pleasure. I didn't deserve it. Not after the way I'd hurt him.
To her credit, Claire seemed to coping with Jake's departure better than I'd anticipated. She was uncharacteristically kind, considerate and helpful. She cleaned her room without being asked, and she helped with the cooking and the laundry. Part of me wondered if she had been abducted by pod-people and where my real daughter had gone. These thoughts were quickly followed by a pang of guilt, especially when I would catch her covertly watching me with large, worried eyes. I wondered just how long we could keep tiptoeing around our awkward new lives, both of us reluctant to give voice to the secret fears we held in our hearts.
Something that I came to realize rather quickly was just how much I missed Angela, and how dependant I was on her unwavering friendship. After the first week or so of moping aimlessly around the house trying to fill my time, I reluctantly called her and asked if I could pick up some extra hours at the clinic. It made my heart clench when I heard the gladness in her voice, and the way that she agreed without the slightest hesitation. Angela really was a true and faithful friend. I had known that I wouldn't be able to stay upset with her for long. If our roles had been reversed, I didn't know that I would have handled the situation any differently than she had.
Part of my reason for throwing myself into work was purely selfish. It was a welcome distraction that allowed me to block out, at least for a little while, the swirling thoughts of Edward, Jake and Claire that seemed to run on an endless loop through my mind. I was also trying to look at my new situation realistically. If I was to become a single parent in the near future, I had to have some source of income beyond what my once-a-week hobby afforded me. It was still a question mark in my mind as to what kind of alimony and child support I would receive from Jake in our eventual divorce settlement, but in any case, I didn't want to feel beholden to him. I had been a 'kept woman' for too long, and it was time for me to stand on my own two feet. Working at the veterinary clinic wasn't exactly my dream job, but it would be a start until I could figure out just what I was going to do with the rest of my life.
Angela and Ben generously offered to hire me on full-time for three days a week; Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I would still mainly be handling receipts and invoices, but I would also be filling in where needed as well. I volunteered to be their go-to person on Tuesdays and Thursdays when I wasn't technically scheduled to work, in the event that one of the receptionists or kennel-helpers called out sick. As long as I didn't have to be home on Wednesdays, I was happy. All it took was one Wednesday during my week of self-imposed home exile to remind me of why I did not want to be around on pool-cleaning day.
José still hadn't returned from Mexico, and at this point I was beginning to despair that he ever would. This meant that James continued to come to my home once a week, and I still couldn't shake the uneasiness that I felt about him. It should have been easy enough to fire him and to hire a different company, but confrontation still wasn't my strong suit. I attributed my anxiety to the recent upheaval in my life, and the nervousness that I felt at the thought of no longer having a man around the house. I was determined not to let my paranoia get the better of me, but I still kept the patio door locked and didn't venture outside while James was there. Even so, I could feel his eyes on me through the glass as I moved about the kitchen. It was a huge relief when I started working on Wednesdays and could avoid him altogether.
Another person who was certainly less than thrilled by the prospect of Claire and I living alone, was Charlie. When I finally worked up the courage to call him and admitted that Jake had moved out, his first comment was, "I'm getting my gun and driving to Houston to have a talk with that old boy." It took me a half-hour to calm him down and persuade him that our separation had been coming on for a long time, and that it was a mostly mutual agreement. He seemed saddened by my news, but not entirely surprised. By the end of the conversation, he reluctantly agreed not to do anything rash, like use Jake for target practice, and he told me in a gruff voice that he loved me and to stay safe. A week later, he showed up for a surprise visit and left me one of his guns, saying that it would make him feel better about me and Claire being alone if we had "a little something for protection".
Dear Charlie. I knew he meant well, but I hadn't had a gun in my home since I'd moved out of his house to go to college, and I certainly didn't know how to fire one. I took it to appease him, though, and I kept it unloaded on the top shelf of my bedroom closet, with the box of ammunition beside it.
The days turned into weeks, and I became accustomed to the new rhythm of my life, but regret was my constant companion. I couldn't help thinking of how different things would be if only I'd been the one to dump Jake first, said yes to Edward and gone off to England with him. I had thought I was being strong at the time, but in retrospect, I realized just how weak I had been. I hated myself for not having the courage to admit to Edward that I loved him, and for not standing up to Jake sooner when I began to suspect that he was cheating on me. I had put my needs last, as usual, and now I was paying the price for that character flaw … again.
I missed Edward desperately, but even though I couldn't bring myself to delete his pictures or his number from my phone, I still found myself incapable of reaching out to him. After all, he'd made no attempt to contact me either. I was certain that he'd taken my advice and moved on. It was what he'd thought I wanted, and I had no one but myself to blame.
Thankfully, I was very good at pretending that everything was okay. After all, I'd had years of practice. Outwardly, I appeared to be taking everything in stride, and it was a relief when Charlie and Claire began treating me normally again. I didn't want them to worry. I strove to remain neutral during my limited interactions with Jake. I was still obliged to have some contact with him because of Claire, and after he moved into his new condo, he came by the house a few times to collect more of his belongings. I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing that I was hurting. I also fielded several annoying phone calls from the other corporate wives who were married to Jake's business associates. Apparently, the rumor-mill was in full swing, and word of our separation and impending divorce was making the rounds. It galled me that these women who had barely given me the time of day before, and who I socialized with only once or twice a year at company functions, had the nerve to call me now pretending to be solicitous. I politely but firmly turned down their offers to have a 'girls' day out' or to 'do lunch'.
I might have been able to fool everyone else into thinking that I was fine, but naturally, Angela missed nothing. She was also the only one who knew about my feelings for Edward, and that I grieved his loss more than I did the dissolution of my marriage. She didn't broach the subject initially, even though I now spent almost every day working with her. I knew how relieved she was that we had been able to repair our friendship and move past her deception about Jake, and I sensed that she was reluctant to put a strain on the truce we had called. Angela being who she was, though, I knew that it was just a matter of time before she spoke her mind.
"Sit down a minute, Bella," she said one day when I brought her a stack of invoices to sign. I braced myself, knowing what was coming.
She studied me quietly for a moment as I fidgeted nervously with Edward's bracelet. I had taken to wearing it again, and at times like this it comforted me.
"I'm worried about you," she said gently. "Those suitcases under your eyes tell me that you haven't been sleeping much lately, and you've lost weight. How are things going?"
"Okay," I lied, avoiding her eyes. "The divorce is moving along, at least. Thanks again for recommending that lawyer to me. Caius really seems to have my best interests at heart. We've met with Jake and his lawyers, and all of the documents have been filed. Now we just play the waiting game."
"Well, I'm glad about that," Angela replied, "but that's not what I meant. What's going on with Edward? Have you called him yet?"
I shook my head.
"Why not?" she pressed. "Come on, Bella. It's been over a month. I'm sure he's gotten over whatever you said to him by now. You have to let him know about Jake."
She paused and looked at me hopefully.
"You still have his number, right? Give me your cell phone, and I'll call him; you know, to break the ice."
I shot out of my chair, every muscle in my body tensed.
"No!" I cried, my voice trembling. "You promised that you wouldn't meddle in my life any more, Angela. If you call him, I'll … I'll never forgive you."
"I just don't get it," she said sadly. "You're obviously still in love with him. How do you know that he's not suffering just as much as you are?"
"I'm sure he's not," I mumbled, staring at the floor. "He's got no reason to believe that I love him after the things I said to him. He's probably moved on."
"How do you know that?" Angela argued. "Have you been keeping tabs on him with those stupid supermarket tabloids and online blogs?"
"No! God, no," I said forcefully. "That would be weird, and stalkerish and … creepy. Anyway, do you know who he's starring with in his new movie? She's absolutely gorgeous. How could I ever possibly compete with that?"
"I don't know," Angela said mildly. "From most of what I've read, they seem to be just friends. It's a job, Bella. Just because he's working with that Tanya chick, it doesn't mean he's banging her."
"Wait," I said in confusion. "How do you know all of this? Have you been cyber-stalking him?"
Angela gave me a lopsided grin.
"Well, just because you have this whole 'nobility of suffering' thing going on, it doesn't mean that I can't keep an eye on Edward," she replied. "Come on, Bella," she said gently. "Have a little faith in the guy. He adored you. He's not going to get over you that easily, no matter what you led him to believe. Just take a chance and call him. You're going to be a free woman soon. The two of you can finally be together without any guilt hanging over your heads."
"I wish I could believe that, Angela," I murmured.
Deep down, I knew that Angela was right. I had taken the coward's way out once, and I didn't want to make the same mistake again. And yet, it was still easier for me to give counsel to others than to take my own advice.
On a Friday afternoon near the end of October, Quil was sitting in my kitchen eating cookies. Claire was upstairs packing a bag to take to Jake's for the weekend. It was the first time since he had moved into his own place that she would be spending the weekend there, and I knew that she was both nervous and excited. Being the good friend that he was, Quil had offered to accompany her for moral support, and he would pick her up on Sunday afternoon. I could only pray that Jake had the good sense to keep his sleazy mistress under wraps for a while longer.
I could tell that Quil was anxious about something, and I had a feeling that it had nothing to do with taking Claire over to see Jake. I waited patiently for him to speak, knowing that he'd come out with it eventually.
"Um … Mrs. Black?" he finally said, nervously picking cookie crumbs from his shirt. "I need to ask you something."
"Quil, call me Bella," I reminded him gently. "I'm not going to be Mrs. Black for much longer, anyway. Now, what's on your mind?"
I watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed, struggling to formulate his words. A feeling of intense nostalgia washed over me as I remembered the little boy that he'd been not long ago, and now here he was, sitting before me on the brink of manhood and attempting to come to grips with adult emotions that were heartbreakingly new to him.
"Do you think that Claire would go to the Homecoming dance with me next weekend?" he asked in a rush. "Not as a buddy, but like, on a real date. I've liked her for an awfully long time, Mrs. … I mean, Bella. I just have no clue if she feels the same way about me."
He stared at me with hopeful, shining eyes, and I felt a sudden, intense surge of pride. He'd finally had the courage to admit what had been obvious to me for some time, and I admired his determination to pursue what he believed in.
"You'll never know unless you ask her," I replied quietly. "Claire has always considered you her best friend, but only she can say if she's ready for something more. Take the chance and tell her how you really feel, Quil. Have you ever heard the saying 'a life lived in fear is a life half-lived'?"
Quil shook his head.
"It's a Spanish proverb," I said sadly. "Trust me, you don't want to look back on your life with regret some day, wondering what could have been. It's far better to make yourself vulnerable now, even if you face rejection, than to miss out on what could be the opportunity of a lifetime."
I am such a hypocrite.
Two weeks later, my worst fears were confirmed when Angela walked into my office and flung a copy of OK! Magazine down on my desk.
"Have you seen this?" she fumed, as I picked up the magazine with shaking hands. "I guess you were right not to call Edward. Looks like he's back with his ex, that Jane-what's-her-face from the Zombie Killer movies."
I ran a trembling finger over the photograph. It was dark and grainy, and had obviously been taken from some distance away, but it was unmistakably Edward, kissing a small blonde woman. I felt bile rise in my throat.
"God damn it. I really hate men sometimes," Angela said bitterly. "If I didn't love Ben so fucking much, I would have gone lesbo years ago."
"It's all right, Angela," I said weakly. "He's moved on; that's a good thing. He was probably never really over Jane anyway. I told you he could never be serious about someone like me."
I jumped up suddenly from my desk, and ran to the bathroom, where I was violently sick. When Angela found me a few minutes later, I was sitting on the floor crying into my bent knees. I felt like such a fool. Despite all of my protests that Edward was better off without me, I realized that I had been holding out hope that Edward still loved me and that someday we could be together again. Now I wondered if he'd ever really loved me at all. I didn't usually put much stock in the tabloid gossip magazines, but that picture clearly had not been Photoshopped, and Edward was most definitely kissing his ex-girlfriend.
Angela sat on the floor beside me and put her arm around my shoulders. She stroked my hair silently as I cried, and the last of my hope slipped away.
The next couple of weeks passed in a haze, and before I knew it, it was almost Thanksgiving. It was difficult for me to wrap my mind around everything that had happened in the past two months. In spite of all the pain and suffering, however, there had been a few bright spots. Quil had indeed taken Claire to Homecoming, and they were dating now. It was nice to finally see Claire happy. I reminded myself that she had been through a lot too. She'd been rejected by her celebrity crush, and she'd witnessed the breakup of her parents' marriage. Most recently, Jake had finally come clean with her about Leah, and while Claire was less than thrilled with the news, she took it with a grudging acceptance. I was certain that having Quil to lean on made her burden considerably easier to bear.
Charlie was coming to spend Thanksgiving at our house, and it would be just the three of us, since Jake was taking Leah to Cozumel for the holiday. Our divorce would likely be finalized in a matter of weeks, and I couldn't help wondering bitterly how long it would be before he married Leah. So much for feeling conflicted.
Angela and Ben had given me the week off, and even though our gathering would be small this year, I planned a traditional Thanksgiving dinner and did my shopping on Monday. I knew that I would have to start my baking early in the week, and I anticipated making three pies. Although Quil would be spending Thanksgiving Day with his father at his grandparents' house, he was planning on joining us for dessert that evening, and I knew that he could easily eat an entire pie by himself.
With my grocery purchases put away, I made a cup of tea and grabbed a stack of stained, dog-eared cookbooks to take out to the patio so that I could decide on my dessert recipes. The days were chilly now, and I pulled my cardigan more tightly around me as I sat down at the wrought-iron table. The weak sunlight warmed me, though, and I soon became engrossed in the cookbooks in front of me.
I started, and my head snapped up as a shadow fell across the table, suddenly blocking out the sun.
"Oh, James! You scared me," I said feebly. "I wasn't expecting you today. Are you here to clean the pool early this week because of the holiday?"
James stared at me silently for a long moment. I had never seen him without his sunglasses before, and his eyes were an intense, dark shade of brown, almost black. Their contrast to his blonde hair was jarring, and combined with his flat, unsmiling expression, he appeared angry. I felt a flutter of unease in my stomach.
"I know you weren't expecting me, Bella," he said slowly. "You've been avoiding me since you started working, haven't you?"
"What do you mean?" I asked nervously, noticing for the first time that he didn't have any of his usual equipment with him. "What difference does my schedule make to you?"
"Oh, I know all about your schedule," James said smoothly. "I know that you go for a run every morning at 5:00 and that you leave for work at 8:00 now. You get home at 4:30, and you have dinner with your daughter at 6:00. You spend your evenings reading or knitting, and after your kid goes to bed, you come out here and look up at the stars for a while. You cry when you think nobody's watching, but I've been watching you, Bella. I've been watching you for months. You've just been too wrapped up in your shallow little life to notice."
"You've been watching me?" I said, trying to keep the fear out of my voice as I got to my feet. "Oh my God. It was you wasn't it? In the car by the jogging trail."
"Of course," he replied casually. "And your lover almost caught me that one morning, remember? I've been much more careful since then." He smiled cruelly, revealing a row of gleaming, wolf-like teeth. "You're quite the little slut, aren't you?" he said. "The perfect prim and proper housewife on the outside, and fucking some other guy while your husband's not around. That's a real nice way to repay someone who's busted his ass taking care of you for years. No wonder he left you. I'm surprised it took him so long to figure out just what a whore you really are."
"Get out," I said in a trembling voice. "You're fired. I don't know where you get off thinking you can talk to me like that, but if you don't leave now, I'm calling the police."
James backhanded me nonchalantly, and I stumbled against the table as stars swam in front of my eyes. When my vision cleared, I saw that he had produced a long hunting knife and was holding it in front of my face.
"You don't threaten me," he said in an eerily calm voice. "Your husband and your boyfriend both left you. Now I've come to claim what I've been wanting for a long time. Damned if I know what it is about you that's so irresistible to all of us. You're so mouth-wateringly innocent to look at, but you have everybody fooled, don't you? Everyone except me."
He pressed the blade against my throat and I whimpered. My mind was racing. I wondered wildly what my chances were of bolting for the house and reaching Charlie's gun in my bedroom closet. Probably slim to none. He would be on me like a mountain lion on a deer before I even made it to the patio door.
"Poor, poor Bella. You're all alone now. There's not even anyone around to hear you scream," James whispered in my ear, and my skin crawled at his proximity. "I'm going to fuck you. And then I'm going to kill you. And then I might fuck you some more," he said slowly and deliberately, enunciating every word.
I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, certain that he could hear the terrified pounding of my heart.
"Why?" I murmured. "Why me?"
"I've played this little game before," he mused, "but I always left those other bitches alive. You, though … you I want to kill. You deserve to be put out of your misery, you fucking cock-tease. You ruin men's lives and then pretend to be sad about it afterwards. You should be a goddamn actress, you know that? I'm doing you a favor, you know. And your daughter too. The rotten apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I can tell that she's already headed down the same path with that pathetic little boyfriend of hers. She's probably going to fuck him up just like you've screwed-over all the men in your life. She needs to be taught a lesson so that she doesn't make the same mistakes as you. I think I'm going to enjoying playing with her too when she gets home from school."
"No!" I gasped, my eyes flying open in panic. "Not Claire!"
"Don't worry," James said soothingly, caressing my cheek with the side of the blade. "I won't kill her, I just want to educate her. Anyway, you won't have to see her suffer. You'll already be dead."
He closed his hand around my throat and pressed his vile body against me. I could feel his arousal, and tears began to run slowly down my cheeks.
This can't be happening, I thought frantically. I may have made some mistakes, but I don't deserve to die for them. And I can't let him hurt Claire. I never even got to tell Edward that I love him. Oh, Edward. I do love you, I always have. I wish I could have another chance to prove that to you.
I caught a subtle movement out of the corner of my eye from beside the house, and I realized what I needed to do. A feeling of anger washed over me. I was tired of being weak and submissive.
I'm taking my life back.
I lunged suddenly away from James, twisting out of his grasp. "Go to hell, you crazy bastard!" I yelled.
I heard a gunshot, and then warm blood splattered across my face.
EPOV
I sat in my trailer drinking cold coffee and listened disinterestedly to Alice, Jasper and Emmett squabble about something-or-other while the low sounds of CNN came from the television in the background.
Ah, the exciting life I lead. Different continent, different movie, same fuckery.
At least Jane had moved on to inflict her path of destruction on another unsuspecting country. I didn't much care where she went, just as long as it was far-the-fuck away from me. I was still seething over the publicity stunt she had pulled with Newton, and I cringed at the thought of what those pictures must have looked like to Bella. I realized that I'd probably lost any last shred of credibility I'd had with her, and I could have cheerfully strangled Jane for that. Fortunately for her, she had beat a hasty retreat from London shortly after the pictures came out, probably sensing my homicidal impulses for her. I dreaded the thought of working with her again, and wondered absently if there was any way I could get out of my contract.
I realized that the room had gone quiet except for the low murmur of the television, and I looked up to see three pairs of eyes on me.
"What?" I said in exasperation.
"Jesus, Edward! I know you've got that whole 'brooding-moody-actor' thing going on, but you've had the same constipated expression on your face since those pictures came out in OK! Magazine two weeks ago," Alice said. "You had to know that Mike was going to come up with a story on you eventually. I don't know what you're so upset about, anyway. You could do a lot worse than to be romantically linked to Jane right now, what with the promo tour for ZK II starting in a few months."
Fuck. Here we go again. It was always the same thing with Alice. As long as I was photographed with the 'right' people, there was no such thing as too much publicity.
I opened my mouth to tell her off, when an image flashed on the television screen that almost made me drop my coffee.
"What, no snappy comeback?" I dimly heard Alice say. "Well, that's a first. I would have thought …"
"Shut the fuck up a minute, Alice," I said urgently. "Someone turn up the sound on the TV."
Jasper grabbed the remote and turned up the volume a little too loudly in the suddenly silent room. I could still barely hear the newscaster over the sound of my heart pounding in my ears.
"… shooting involving Border Patrol agent Charles Swan in Texas yesterday," the perky blonde anchorwoman continued, as another picture of Charlie flashed onto the screen. "We now take you to our affiliate station KPRC channel 2 in Houston, and reporter Mariza Reyes."
"Who the hell is Charles Swan?" Alice asked. "What …?"
"Shhh!" I hushed her desperately, all of my attention focused on the screen. A young, brunette news reporter was standing outside the gates to Bella's subdivision, and I blanched.
"The quiet of this suburban neighborhood was shattered yesterday morning, just days before Thanksgiving, when a woman was attacked in her own back yard," the reporter intoned. "The woman's name is being withheld at this time, but her attacker, James Richard Chase, was shot by her father, Border Patrol agent Charles Swan, who had just arrived in Houston from Del Rio to spend the holiday with his family. The woman was uninjured, and her alleged attacker remains in the hospital in critical but stable condition at this time. No word yet on a motive for this assault, but police believe that the suspect is behind a string of recent unsolved attacks on young women around the Houston area, most taking place at night or just before dawn on local running trails. This is the fifth shooting involving a Border Patrol agent in the last six months and …"
I tuned out the rest of her words as I breathed shallowly and tried not to vomit. Bella. Oh my God. My Bella. She had almost been killed. Thank God for Charlie. If something had happened to Bella, I would have killed myself.
I felt Jasper's hand on my shoulder and I jumped.
"Edward, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice full of concern.
"I have to make a call," I said tensely, getting to my feet. My hands shook so badly that I almost dropped my phone. I didn't even care who else was in the room, or who might overhear me. I had to talk to Bella.
The phone rang and rang on her end, and then went to voicemail. I hung up and redialed, and again all I got was the sweet sound of her voice on the recording. Fuck! Why isn't she answering her phone? There's no way in hell I'm just going to leave a message.
I dialed the number again. Please pick up. Please pick up, Bella, I prayed silently. I almost wept with relief when she finally answered.
"Edward?" she said in a small voice that nearly broke my heart. "Is it really you?"
"It's me, Bella," I choked out. "I just saw Charlie on the international news. The report said that you were attacked. Are you all right?"
She gave a trembling sigh. "I'm fine," she said after a pause. "I … I wasn't hurt. They wanted to take me to the hospital, but I refused. At least Charlie was able to shoot that psychopath. If he hadn't decided to come up from Del Rio earlier than he'd planned, I'd be dead now."
"Don't say that," I replied, my voice shaking. "If that that had happened I would have died too."
She was silent, and for a moment I thought we had lost the connection.
"Bella, are you still there?" I said frantically.
"I'm still here," she said quietly. "I guess I'm just wondering why you would say that, and why you would call me now after all this time."
"I've been a fool," I sighed angrily. "I know I should have called sooner, but you told me to stay out of your life. I wanted to respect your wishes, but there hasn't been a single day that I haven't thought about you, Bella. You're the most precious thing to me, and I just wanted you to be happy, even that meant you staying with Jake."
I stopped as a thought hit me. "Where is Jake?" I said slowly. "How could he let this happen to you?"
"Jake's … not here," she replied.
"Damn it! He hasn't changed at all, has he?" I growled. "He's off on another of his business trips, leaving you vulnerable to the attack of that … that animal. This is all my fault. I should have been there to protect you. If I had been, none of this would have happened."
I paused for a moment. It took me only a split-second to make my decision.
"I'm coming," I said.
"What? Come here? You can't, Edward," she gasped. "The police are still doing an investigation, and there are reporters everywhere. I'm safe now. James will be locked up when he gets out of the hospital, and I … I have Charlie and Claire with me. You're in the middle of filming. I don't want you to come."
"I'm coming," I repeated flatly. "Bella, the only thing that can hurt me is you. I don't have anything else to be afraid of."
She hesitated, and then I heard her sigh resignedly. "All right," she said softly. "Just … don't make your travel arrangements through Jake's office. Let me know when you're arriving, and I'll make sure someone's at the airport to pick you up. I'll explain everything when you get here."
"I'll be there as soon as I can," I promised. "Goodbye, Bella."
"Goodbye, Edward."
As I disconnected the call, I suddenly remembered that Alice, Jasper and Emmett were still in the room. They were all staring at me, Alice with her mouth agape.
"Alice, I have to get on the first flight to Houston," I said. "The woman I love needs me right now."
She opened and closed her mouth, but no sound came out.
"Bella Black is your 'mystery woman'?" she finally whispered. "Jacob Black's wife? I should have known the minute that I talked to her on the phone that there was something going on between the two of you. That whole business about Leah being your girlfriend was just a lie, wasn't it?"
I went very still. "When did you talk to Bella?" I asked in a deadly calm voice. Alice remained silent, her eyes wide.
"Dammit, Alice! What did you say to her?" I asked, my voice rising.
"It was just before you left Houston. Don't be angry, Edward. I wasn't even completely sure that she was the woman you were obsessed with at the time," she said pleadingly. "I just told her that I thought you'd be better off without the distraction of a girlfriend in your life right now. A non-celebrity girlfriend. You have your image and your career to think about, Edward, and she seemed to agree with me. I was only trying to help you."
I stared at her in shock. "Do you have any idea what you've done?" I shouted. "Do you even care how many lives you ruined? I love her, Alice, and she loved me, but because she's the most selfless person I've ever met in my life, and thanks to your little pep-talk, she broke off our relationship. To protect me, when all along I should have been protecting her. If she had come to London with me, she never would have been attacked and nearly killed. You're responsible for that, Alice. How does that make you feel?"
"Hey, man," Jasper interjected quietly. "I don't think it's fair for you to blame Alice for everything."
I whirled on him. "And how much of this did you know about?" I demanded. Jasper stared silently at the floor.
"For Christ's sake," Alice yelled, "I did you a favor, Edward. She's a married woman with a teenaged kid. What does that make her, like forty, or something? And you thought those pictures of you and Jane in Ok! Magazine were bad? The media would crucify you."
"Dude," Emmett piped up. "Dating an older woman? That's pretty hot."
"Stay the fuck out of this, Emmett," I snarled. I turned back to Alice.
"I have to fix this," I said shortly. "Do whatever you have to, but get me the fuck back to Houston as soon as possible. Alone."
"You're out of your mind," Alice moaned. "You can't just walk off another movie set. You'll be in breach of contract. Don't expect to still have a job when you get back."
"Alice," I said coldly, opening the trailer door, "worry about your own resume. You're the one who's going to be looking for a new job after today."
A/N:
So, um … thoughts? Please feel free to leave a review, join me over on the HiPS thread for further discussion, or tweet me up with your comments. Oh, and just so you know, the wait for lemons will finally be over in the next chapter - in a big, BIG way!