I know. Worst. Updater. Ever. So sorry guys. But, hey, even though I took exactly as long to update as I did last time, this chapter is more than double the length, so technically I have improved, right? Sigh. I still suck, I know. And I feel even worse because I have the most sweetest, kindest, best readers ever, seriously. You have all been so wonderfully understanding about my slow updates, and I can't tell you how much it means to me. Thank you to all of you who have left me reviews or messages asking about how I'm doing.
To be honest, I haven't been doing all that great, and this has been the reason for my slow updates. It's been a year now since I completed my engineering degree and I still have not been able to get an engineering job. It's been beyond distressing. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but after working so damn hard and being so proud after getting two engineering degrees with a straight 4.0 average, it's so disheartening to not even be able to get a job in it. I feel like it was all for nothing.
Anyway, I try to stay positive, and I have my ups and downs, but this is what has made it hard to write. Just wanted to let you know. I go through stages where I'm so down that it completely kills my mojo! Recently I made it to the final stages of a very vigorous interview process only to be shot down and not be selected in the end. I was crushed! I went through THREE interviews for the job, making it down to being one of the final three candidates to be selected out of hundreds! I was so happy but then wasn't the chosen one out of those three! It seriously sucked, and my inspiration went down the toilet for a long time after it. I'm not fishing for sympathy or anything - I know everyone has their own troubles, but I just wanted to tell you mine so you might understand why I've been so slow at updating this story.
Another thing that I've been struggling with lately is getting my writing to come out the way I want it to. I've come a long way since I started writing this story and that's a good feeling, but I guess with that progress and experience comes a more critical eye. I've just reached that point where I want my writing to be better than it is, you know? And it can be incredibly frustrating writing and then rewriting a scene over and over so many times before it comes out how you want it.
Anyway, all that aside, thank you for coming back to read. While this story may be hard for me to write at times, the joy I get out of it and hearing from all of you more than makes up for it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Now, I believe this chapter is the longest to date (~13,000 words!), so I'm entitled to this ridiculously long author's note, right? *grimace* Sorry. I talk too much.
Chapter 28
BPOV
I trudged through the front door of the house on Monday after making it through another long and tedious school day.
Tedious because finals began at the end of the week, and judging by how I struggled to keep up in class, I was still far from being ready for them.
And tedious because apparently nothing had happened over the weekend that was even remotely more fun to gossip about than the alleged rape of Bella Swan.
I dropped my backpack to the floor as Edward closed the door behind us, muffling the sound of the heavy rainfall that now pelted against the roof. Charlie was working as usual, and thankfully, for the most part, Renee had been leaving me to my own devices, realizing that right now I had to invest all of my time into studying for my exams. I wasn't sure what she was managing to do with her time here in Forks, but right now it was the least of my worries.
Thank goodness the original plan of having her over to the Cullens' to meet them over the weekend hadn't happened. Edward had taken pity on me after seeing how worked up I was about that particular event, and the get-together had thus been moved to sometime after my exams. It was one less thing to worry about right now, at least.
Not that the weekend hadn't been stressful and exhausting as it was, the majority of it having been spent studying for my first two exams. The only time I'd gone out of the house was when I'd had my first session with Dr. Sandra Williams, the psychiatrist. Well, it had actually seemed more like a meet and greet than an actual counseling session, but I guess we had to start somewhere. Too bad she couldn't just prescribe some miracle cure that would somehow completely erase the unwanted parts of one's past from one's mind.
And from those around them.
After removing my rain-soaked jacket and dropping the small pile of mail I had collected from the mailbox onto the kitchen counter, I turned to face Edward, taking note of how the tension had yet to ease from his body, his jaw tight as if he was still fighting the urge to pounce on someone—A poor, unsuspecting high school student, no doubt.
Taking a step toward him, my arms encircled his waist. His constant battle against all the whispered words and thoughts was getting to him far more than he let on, I knew. The tension eased from his stance at my touch, but his eyes looked…tired in a way.
His gaze met the careful scrutiny of mine.
He would need to hunt soon, too, I realized, noticing the bruise-like shadows beginning to form beneath his eyes once again.
I sagged against him defeatedly. "Maybe I should let you snack on Lauren after all."
"Don't tempt me," he growled.
I sighed. "And I guess there's no way I can convince you to just skip this last week of classes?"
"Certainly not," he said, his tone boding no room for argument.
The selfish part of me was glad. Facing the gossip alone was not an appealing thought, and I couldn't afford to miss these last days of class.
My stomach sank a few inches at the reminder.
Soon, I told myself. Soon I would be done with school. Soon I would be able to get my life back together. Soon Edward and I would be able to put the past behind us. Soon everything would be okay.
I drew back from Edward and did a double take when I caught sight of the large, thick envelope peeking out from beneath the pile of mail on the counter. I could clearly see the label printed on the envelope's corner. Dartmouth?
I reached over to snatch it up. Sure enough, it was as I suspected.
Swiveling around to face Edward again, I held it up, scowling. "What is this?" I demanded.
"An acceptance letter?" he suggested, feigning innocence.
My scowl deepened. "Considering I didn't even apply to Dartmouth, that's rather curious, don't you think?"
He sighed. "I figured it wouldn't hurt you to apply."
"Edward! We talked about this already, remember? Months ago!" My eyes scanned the letter congratulating me for being a successful applicant and stopped on the application date. Apparently he had only just sent in my application a week ago. I didn't even want to think of what he had done to get them to accept me after only just a week. Not to mention the fact that he'd applied after the application deadline.
"I know…" he responded, his tone cautious, hesitant, "but…a lot has changed since then, and I just thought that maybe—"
"You mean I was raped since then!" I exploded, hot, angry tears suddenly filling my eyes. "Does that always have to change everything?" I cried, choking on the last word as I tossed the envelope onto the floor, my bottom lip trembling.
My words seemed to bounce around the room for an endless moment. I saw Edward close his eyes briefly, and I bit my lip and turned away. My feet moved me to Charlie's comfort chair in the living room, and I dropped down into it, hiding my face in my hands and mumbling a barely audible apology.
He didn't respond, but when I brought my head up again he was crouched before me, and the dull cast of weariness in his eyes seemed even more pronounced than when we'd walked in the door. It made me feel worse. He understood better than anyone how much I wanted everything to be as it once was. The last thing he'd needed was me driving that point further home.
"I should've talked it over with you first," he said finally. "I'm sorry."
I just shook my head.
"Bella," he began, taking my hands in his. "I'm not trying to change everything we had planned. I just…I wanted to give you more options in case you need them."
"I know," I said numbly.
He took an audible breath before going on. "And I know we've been through the argument of when you're changed many times…with you not wanting to wait and me always asking for a few more years…"
I scrunched my face up in horror at that, and he smiled slightly at my reaction.
"And I'm not trying to go back on what we decided," he continued. "Despite my reservations on that subject, I realized a long time ago that I was too selfish to deny the chance to be able to keep you forever."
My throat went tight at that.
"But please just listen to me on this one thing," he pleaded, his eyes somewhat desperate as they clung to mine, "because I would never be able to live with myself if I changed you and you regretted it forever."
I quickly shook my head. "I would never—"
He cut of my protest. "I know you think that now, but you don't fully understand…it's not something you want to rush into, and I think…" He trailed of and released a breath. "I think you may be under a misconception regarding the human memories of a vampire," he finished quietly.
I sucked in a breath. I could see where this was heading now.
He gripped both of my hands. "Human memories fade, but the ones you remember most are the ones you remembered most vividly at the time of your change, whether they're good…or bad."
My stomach seemed to drop to some point beyond the floor.
He was trying to get me to wait even longer before he changed me.
The plan had always been that my going to College would be merely pretence for Charlie and Renee's sake. That after the wedding and honeymoon he would change me. And after receiving my acceptance into the University of Alaska last week, which would be the perfect cover, I had been holding fast to that plan. The realization that the rape was once again disrupting another part of my life, prolonging my plans of finally building my future with Edward, took a piece of the hope I'd been constructing and squashed it staunchly.
The same, hot, angry pain rushed through me again, and I jerked away. "So, what, you want me to wait several years to see if I will just magically forget I was raped? I won't ever forget, Edward! Never!" I regretted the words as soon as they left my lips, but it was too late to call them back.
"No," he whispered, pain etched in every line of his face now. "But you misunderstand. I'm not asking you to wait…not necessarily…I just want to make sure you don't choose this life…or rush into it…for the wrong reasons."
I took several deep breaths, reminding myself that my outbursts were childish and unfounded. And that Edward deserved them least of all. I framed his face in my hands. "I want to make the change because I want to be with you for always."
He took my hands again, pulling them down into his and grasping them even more fiercely. His eyes were still pleading. "Just…just promise me that you'll make sure it's the right time. That if you need more time after the wedding, you'll do a semester or two of Collage…if you need it…that you won't—"
"I promise, Edward," I cut him off with a frown, suddenly overtaken with the overwhelming urge to reassure him, though, of what, I wasn't even completely certain. The desperation and…fear in his quick and jumbled words shocked me. Rarely did he ever stumble over his words when he spoke. That was usually my specialty.
As if he sensed he hadn't gotten through to me, he went on. "I just want to make sure you understand…how difficult the change can be, the struggles that one faces…" He paused, then shook his head when I tried to protest again. "Please just listen. I know better than anyone what it's like. I didn't just live through my own change. Carlisle changed me first, remember? Emmett took to this life better than the rest of us, but Rosalie…she was miserable for a long time. I remember..." He hesitated, and the tension in his face grew even more pronounced. "…how much she struggled…"
I knew then what this was all about. Rosalie.
Rosalie, who had been turned under the worst of circumstances, and Edward who had witnessed it all. Never had I even thought about how it may have affected him. How much of Rosalie's pain had he shared through her thoughts? And how much of that pain had he had to relive all over again tenfold now that I'd met a similar fate?
"Oh, Edward," I whispered, failing in my attempt to find the right words to assure him. I tried to free my hands from his, but he wouldn't release me.
"…she resented Carlisle for changing her for the longest time, and…I couldn't bear it if you…if you had any regrets."
I finally managed to free my hands from his, and I moved them to stroke the pained ridges of his face. "Never," I said in a fierce whisper. "I would never regret choosing to be with you forever. And I sure as anything would never, ever, ever resent you for something I chose. This is a completely different situation. I have a choice. Rosalie didn't. And I choose you. Always."
His features softened, but there was still an uncertainty in his gaze that shocked me to the bone. It was almost as if he was insecure about the extension of my love for him. He opened his mouth to speak again, but I cut him off.
"I know, Edward, I promise not to rush into it, okay? But I know what I want. I've never doubted it for a second." My arms moved around his neck, pulling him to me.
When he saw my intention, his lips met mine with more fever than I'd felt from him in a long while, stunning me for a moment.
Not that I was complaining. The intensity of his kiss had shivers of delight moving through me. My fingers moved through his hair to his nape, stroking reassuringly as I responded in kind, telling him what words could not.
His arm pulled me to him, and I found myself sliding off the chair and into his lap. He settled me on his thigh, taking the extra weight while still remaining completely balanced in his crouched position on the balls of his feet, despite the fact that my less the graceful landing would have sent a normal person tumbling backwards.
Still, the movement must have jolted back the caution that he had finally pushed back for a short moment because he carefully separated my lips from his. "Sorry," he whispered, stroking my cheek as if to soothe me.
I shook my head, catching his hand and touching my forehead to his. "No, this is good. This is very good."
He smiled and kissed me again, but briefly this time. Well, at least it was progress.
xxxxx
Three days later brought me to Thursday, with only two more full days of classes left on Friday and Monday and one more half day on Tuesday. The end of the school year—and my high school career—was nearly upon me, yet with each day dragging more than the one before it, it seemed years away rather than days.
Dropping my backpack beside my desk where it landed with a thump, I surveyed the state of my room with resigning weariness. Schoolbooks, binders, notebooks and the like were piled up on my desk and overflowing onto the floor. A pile of dirty laundry sat in the corner of my room. My bed was rumbled and unmade. I hadn't even drawn back the curtain from my window this morning. Not that it mattered really; it was another typical cloudy and dull day in Forks.
I was usually much tidier than this, but the disarray of my room certainly matched my mood, I thought dryly. After having just been through another school day, I felt rather like a wad of chewing gum, chewed up and spat out several times. Not a very pleasant analogy, but it definitely fit. Everyone still craved juicy Bella Swan gossip that they could sink their teeth into, just so that they might mince it up and mold it to their liking before spitting it out again to the next available gossiper, not even caring who they hurt in the process.
I stepped over a fallen notebook to tug back the curtain and let what little amount of light there was spill into the room.
I won't let their words get to me, I told myself. I won't.
Sometimes it was easier said than done.
Kicking the notebook aside, I glanced at my stereo clock. Half an hour before Angela would be here to pick me up. We were meeting up to escape the pressures of exam week for a few hours. It would be good for me, I reminded myself. Spending time with a friend, just as I'd often done. Falling back into normal habits, that's what I needed. At least that was what Dr. Sandra Williams had told me yesterday during our first real session.
Unfortunately, it wasn't always that easy. Angela may not be like the rest of my peers; gossiping, judging, pitying, and reminding me of what I longed to forget at every chance they got, yet still nothing could be as it once had, even with Angela.
Everything had changed.
I had changed. Ever since the night that reality had been cruelly forced upon me in the worst possible way, I had changed.
Gone was the naïve, trusting, innocent girl who hadn't even been able to see her best friend for who he was. Gone was the girl who had skipped through life with a false sense of the world around her.
And Angela could never understand. I no longer saw the world the way I once had, the way she still saw it. It made us seem worlds apart at times.
Still, I did need to get out for a bit. Because, the girl who jumped at shadows and was afraid to be alone was not who I wanted to be either, I told myself resolutely.
Turning from the window, I crossed the room to find something to change into before Charlie and Edward began to wonder why I was taking so long.
I could hear them downstairs discussing recent news: a local break in, increased bear sightings at a campground a couple hours from Seattle (Edward was probably filing away that bit of information for future reference), and some other political issues that I didn't really care about.
Edward was hanging about until Angela picked me up. He worried about me, I knew. Just as I worried about him, I added to myself grimly. He had been trying to convince me to slow things down and get some of my exams deferred, but that was the last thing I wanted. What I wanted was school over and done with as soon as possible.
Tugging open the second drawer of my dresser, I rummaged around for a pair of shorts. Angela and I were going jogging on the trail near her house, and the air was too warm and muggy for long pants.
I located my beige denim shorts at the bottom of the drawer.
It had been a while since I'd worn shorts, I realized. And so what? What did that matter?
I pulled off my jeans, tossing them onto my pile of laundry, and then donned the shorts.
Had they always been this short? They weren't excessively short, but still…they were…short.
I tugged them down slightly.
It's fine. It's fine. My fingers dug into the fabric. You can't see them anymore. You can't.
Yet suddenly the thought of going out like this made me feel…exposed. Too exposed.
Ridiculous. You're being ridiculous, I reminded myself.
I tried not to think of why I hadn't worn shorts in months, even on the rare hot days. I tried not to think of the dark, finger-shaped bruises that had covered my thighs and taken forever to fade completely. I tried not to think of the hands that had left them. I tried.
I tried so hard…
My fingers gripped the dresser and I held my breath, willing myself not to cry. Edward would undoubtedly hear me if I did. He'd come up here and ask me what was wrong, and I'd have no rational answer. Irrational Bella had once again veered her head. Rational Bella was saying how stupid, how stupid it was; there was nothing wrong with wearing shorts…nothing. But irrational Bella was winning. I couldn't wear them. I just couldn't.
The breath I'd been holding came out in a muffled, choking sob that I gulped back.
The bruises were gone, I knew, yet it was as if they were there, exposed for all to see, and an unexpected rush of shame filled me. I could practically feel the eyes of my peers on me once again, could hear them whispering. Slut. She got what she was asking for…
And, worst of all…the pitying looks; they would look at me as if to say, there's poor, broken Bella…as if I'd never be fixed. As if I was forever broken. I hated them. The pitying looks. I hated them most of all.
"Bella?"
The knock on my bedroom door had me jerking with a start.
Get a hold of yourself, I ordered.
I pulled open the door at the sound of Edward's voice, momentarily forgetting why I'd been such a pathetic mess just moments ago, seeking only the comfort of his presence, the comfort of a simple touch of his hand in mine. When the door swung open, however, and I saw his gaze sweep downward before settling on my face again, I remembered.
I turned away abruptly as the self-consciousness and shame flooded me again. No, you're being absurd, Bella. Absurd. The bruises are gone, the bruises are gone. It's fine, it's fine.
My attempts to pull myself together lasted until I glimpsed my reflection in the full-length mirror behind the door. Of course, I was overacting again, but when did irrational Bella ever care about that? I could still hear the words of my peers ringing in my ears. Slut. Slut. I felt dirty. Ugly. My shorts hung more loosely than I remembered—Edward and Renee had been right; I'd lost weight in recent months.
I felt Edward's gaze following me, and tears burned the back of my throat. Ugly. He'd think I was ugly. I'd thought the bruises were gone, but it struck me that maybe he could see them still. He had superior vision, after all. And it felt like they were there. It felt like they were there as proof. Proof that I'd never be rid of…him.
"Bella?" I heard Edward ask again, concerned. "Is something wrong?"
I shook my head and hugged my chest. "No," I gulped. I knew he wouldn't believe that for a second. "It's nothing…I…I'm just being stupid again." I tried to laugh, a low, humorless laugh. "Just Bella number two acting up again." I'd taken to referring to my pathetic, irrational side as such. It helped to turn it into a joke at times, but I knew he'd see through me like he always did.
And like always my attempts to talk sense into myself were pointless. I told myself there was no reason to feel exposed as I did, that the shorts weren't too short, that there was nothing wrong with wearing them. I told myself the harsh words of my peers were a lie, that Jacob had been sick and twisted and I hadn't done anything wrong. I told myself I was free of him, that there were no more marks left by his hands…and that those hands couldn't touch me anymore…
Yet touch me they did.
My legs wobbled beneath me, and I sank down onto the rumpled mess that was my bed, pulling my legs up under me and then tugging the comforter up so that it covered my lower body, unable to shake the self-consciousness and shame even though I knew I was being absurd. I hugged the edge of the comforter to my chest to hide what I was really using it for. "I…I'll be fine," I assured Edward again when I saw him moving toward me. And I would. I would pull myself together and stop trying to bury imaginary bruises under blankets. The feeling of filth crawling beneath my skin would go away, because it, too, was imaginary. And I would stop being such a pathetic mess and get up from here and go out with Angela dressed exactly as I was. I waited, and none of the above happened.
"Bella…"
I saw Edward lower himself down beside me, but when his hand settled over my knee, an automatic reflex reaction had me jerking away before I could stop myself. I realized what I'd done as soon as it happened, but of course by then it was already too late to take back.
I saw Edward's stunned, and, for a short moment, hurt expression, before he quickly composed himself. I hadn't pulled away from just a simple touch from him like that for a long time, and we both knew it.
My eyes filled, and I heard myself mumble, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" over and over like a pitiful lunatic. Good thing I was seeing a shrink. Clearly I needed it.
"Bella…" I heard Edward say again, almost in a whisper, and it killed me to hear the uncertainty in his voice now. "Do you want me to call Alice or…Rose?" he hedged cautiously, his voice soft.
My head snapped up. "What?" I cried. "No! Why...? Why would…" I had to gulp in a breath.
The lines in his forehead creased further, almost in a grimace. "You're upset," he responded quietly, "and…" There was a pause. "and I'm making you uncomfortable."
His words were like a heavy jerk to my chest. I shook my head, distraught. "No, no you're not!" It came out as more of a croak. Nothing I said would make the slightest difference, I knew. The damage had already been done, whether he understood the reasoning behind it or not. My breathing was heavy and choked, and I had the sudden urge to claw at the skin at my thighs, where I could still feel the scars crawling just beneath the surface, almost reachable but not quite. Maybe if I clawed hard enough I would be free.
Moments after that thought went through my head I was completely and utterly appalled at myself for even thinking such a thing. I tried not to cry again.
I failed.
"Bella, sweetheart…"
I swallowed and squeezed out, "No, just give me a minute…I'm fine…I'll be fine…" I chanted it repeatedly in my head as well. Because I'd be fine, I would. Stupid, irrational Bella would fade, she would. And, eventually, she'd stop coming back for good. Why else was I going to counseling, if not to ensure exactly that?
Too bad it didn't seem to be working yet.
I swiped aggressively at my tears.
More came again in a sudden rush. And not because I was just being stupid, irrational Bella again. No, in the end what tore at me the most—more than the frustration of my instability, more than even the hurt I'd read in Edward's eyes that moment when I'd uncontrollably jerked away—was the way he now lifted a hand as if to touch me again but then dropped it seconds later. The way he suddenly seemed awkward, uncertain.
The way I'd just destroyed all the progress we'd made over weeks and weeks in one single instant.
xxxxx
I tossed again, rolling to lie on my opposite side and giving my bed sheet a sharp tug over my shoulder as I did so. How was it that one could be exhausted and yet unable to fall asleep at the same time? Not that I was any stranger to sleep problems by any means…But, no, I wasn't going to think about those infrequent—yet sometimes persistent—nightmares. Not now. Right now I had to try and relax my body enough to sleep. It was Sunday, and I had my second last day of classes tomorrow. Not to mention a whole slew of exams the rest of the week. If I didn't get some sleep I would be in trouble. Unfortunately my body didn't seem to be cooperating. Not that that was exactly new either.
I thought back to Thursday…And the flicker of hurt that had flashed across Edward's eyes that moment I'd jerked away.
My stomach twisted and I pressed my face into my pillow.
It was difficult, more difficult than I'd thought, putting my life back together. Putting myself back together. Going back to school. Going back to simple, everyday routines.
It helped, I supposed, as Rosalie had said it would, to go to counseling and hear the councilor say my struggles were normal, that I wasn't the only victim to suffer through the same, and that they were there to help me through it. That I could be normal again with time.
But it wasn't happening fast enough. Nowhere near enough. In fact, evidently I was sometimes even taking backward steps instead of forward. That was the worst.
My stomach twisted again.
Oh, yes, that was the worst.
Scrunching the bed sheet in my fist and then releasing it, I attempted to clear my mind. Sleep. I needed to sleep, I reminded myself.
It wasn't only my long hours spent studying that was exhausting. No, there was also stupid, irrational Bella who could never quite relax, especially when alone. Hypervigilance, as my psychiatrist called it—it was very draining on the person. And the 'exaggerated startle response.' No doubt I had that one perfected. Edward tried not to make a big deal about it, pretending he didn't notice most times when I would jump out of my skin for the stupidest things, but I knew he did notice, better than anyone, in fact. After all, he could hear every irregular beat of my heart.
At that moment he looked up from where he sat in the corner of my room, writing out his final History paper for tomorrow. I could just barely make out his face through the dark room, and he caught my eye. Setting down his notebook, he came to sit on the edge of the bed and flipped the switch to turn on my bedside lamp, bathing his face in amber lighting. "Still can't sleep, huh?" he asked.
I shook my head against my pillow, surprised that he didn't sound concerned by this fact. I knew how much he worried about me.
"Sleeping can be overrated," he said. "I would know." His mouth tipped into one of those rare grins I missed so much, and my heart reacted almost painfully.
He toyed with a strand of my hair for a moment before coming to his feet and then holding out a hand to me. "Come. I want to show you something."
My eyebrows went up. All week he'd been trying to encourage me to get into bed earlier and sleep, not the other way around. Propping myself up on my elbow, I eyed his outstretched hand suspiciously. "What? Where are we going?"
A ghost of a smile flickered. "Out," he said.
My eyes were wide. Maybe I'd fallen asleep after all. "Edward, it's the middle of the night."
"So it is." His hand didn't drop an inch from its outstretched position.
Befuddled, yet, as always, unable to deny him anything when he was exhibiting that easy charm of his, I accepted the offered hand. His fingers clasped strong and sturdy over mine as he helped me up from the bed. As soon as I was on my feet he disappeared in a fast-moving blur that almost sent me tumbling backwards into my bed again. "Ugh, don't you know it's way too late at night for superman speed?" I grumbled, rubbing my eyes as he reappeared in front of me seconds later.
He just grinned and held out one of my favorite sweatshirts along with my converse sneakers.
I looked down at myself, and then back up at his offerings. "This is crazy, Edward, I can't go out in my pajamas."
"Why not? No one will see you. Besides me, of course, and I think you look rather adorable in those pajamas."
I felt my face erupt into flames at his words, and I snatched the sweatshirt out of his hands, while he supplied me with a lopsided, knowing grin.
After tugging on the sweatshirt and shoes in an attempt to hide my face from him, I noted that he'd donned a sweater as well. Not that he'd need it. No doubt it was in case I needed an extra one. Even when he was being spontaneous he was ever prudent of my human frailties. But still… "You're serious about this, aren't you?" I realized, incredulous. "You do realize that I have school tomorrow, right? Where are we going, anyway?"
"Shh, you'll wake Charlie," he responded mildly, turning to face the window for a moment as if looking for something.
I took a huffy breath. "You should be more worried about what will happen when he wakes and finds my bed empty."
"I'll have you back before then," he said, his lips turning up into another easy smile, and in the next instant he was sweeping me up into his arms.
A startled gasp escaped me, and my hands flew to grip his shoulders, my heart reacting in overtime again with a sudden thrill of anticipation. I missed this Edward, I realized. The carefree, goofy side of him was just one of the many things Jacob had taken from me.
From us.
He stepped toward the window, but then stopped, and I noticed the change before he even spoke. One minute we were just a simple, carefree couple with nothing weighing us down, and the next…well, we weren't again.
"Is this okay?" he questioned quietly, the sudden afterthought of uncertainty causing a cold fist to clamp over my heart and squeeze.
I hugged his neck, pressing myself closer, and kissed the underside of his jaw. "More than okay," I whispered. He was trying so hard to do everything exactly right, to be exactly what I needed, but what about what he needed?
The stiffness in his arms fell away and he smiled to let me know we were okay again.
Shifting me in his arms, he somehow managed to open the window, and I clung to him tighter. I didn't think I'd ever get used to this; it was a long drop down. Naturally, there wasn't anything to worry about, though—he sprung lithely out the opening, and I barely felt the impact when he landed gracefully on his feet below.
The outside air was cool and fresh but without being too cold. It was a perfect night, really, and the weighted moment a minute ago seemed to lift as easily as it had come. I could be grateful for that, at least.
"A little fresh air is just what the doctor orders," Edward said, as if reading my mind.
"You being the doctor, I take it?"
His lips tugged up. "Naturally."
"So you're not going to tell me where we're going, are you?" I guessed, taking note of the way he held me in his arms effortlessly, yet with such considerable gentleness—no easy task for someone possessing an unimaginable amount of untapped strength.
He smiled crookedly. "That would be correct."
"Okay," I said, earning a raised eyebrow from Edward. But I was content to let him take me anywhere as long as he held me in his arms like this.
Well, almost anywhere.
"You can't go in there!" I sputtered when he sprinted toward the entrance to the forest, which happened to look more like a yawning black hole, the surrounding trees scarcely illuminated by the streetlight peeking out from behind the front of the house. "It…it's all dark!" I pointed out, rather stupidly.
"I can see just fine."
"But—" My protest was cut off when suddenly we were flying into the darkness, my hair whipping out behind me. "Oh my god," I squeaked, hiding my face against his shoulder. Not that I could actually see much of anything anyway, but even just catching glimpses of tree limbs whirling past through the black of the night would be enough to make me feel queasy. Intellectually I knew I had nothing to worry about…but…Oh, God…we were whizzing through the forest…at top speed…in the middle of the night…without being able to see a thing. Well, I couldn't see a thing. Clearly, Edward could, or my skull would be smashed into a tree right about now. Better not think about that right now.
Once the initial shock wore off it wasn't quite so terrifying. Not so much, anyway. With my eyes closed I could pretend it was like the other times he'd taken me running—when there was daylight. Plus, the change I could feel coming over Edward more than made up for it. He always seemed so…alive when he ran. His vampire side was always something he had to keep under extreme control around me, but this was one of the ways he could let loose and still allow me a part of it, even if only a little, and that fact was never lost on me.
When we finally came to a stop it took a moment for my slower mind to register it.
"Bella?" I could hear the amusement in his voice. "We've both arrived in one piece, as shocking as that may seem. I think it's safe for you to let go now."
"Okay," I squeaked, but my arms were still locked in a death grip around his neck.
He chuckled and gently pried them away before placing me on my feet. I wobbled slightly, and he gripped my arm. "Are you alright? I haven't made you sick now have I?"
"Nope, I'm good…fine…just fine…" I managed to steady myself, and I let out a relieved breath when the dizziness cleared. "That was fun. We should do that again."
He laughed. "Maybe later." He continued to hold my arm for a few seconds to ensure I was completely stable before relinquishing his grip.
It was then that I realized my eyes were open yet still all I could see was blackness. My hand reached for Edward only to find air, and a wave of panic rolled through me. "Edward? Edward!" The sound of my own voice rushed through my ears, and it seemed like much longer than it was before I jumped at the feel of hands around my waist. I sagged into them when I recognized Edward's cool touch.
"Sorry," he murmured. "I forgot you wouldn't be able to see much out here. I just thought I'd—" He broke off suddenly, no doubt when he realized I was actually shaking. He went completely still. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all," he said, his voice gone suddenly quiet.
"No, no of course it is!" I protested, swallowing down the tight panic that had risen in my throat, determined not to let one brief moment of panic ruin the entire night. "I'm fine, perfect. Why wouldn't it be a good idea?" My voice came out a bit muddled and anxious.
He didn't respond for a moment, then he squeezed my hand. "Well, for one, you essentially let me whisk you from your bed in the middle of the night without having any idea where I was taking you. I hope you don't do that for just anyone." I could hear the slight smile in his voice now, and I felt the weight of Jacob's ghost lift once again.
I tried to make out Edward's face through the darkness. "Nope. Only for you," I promised.
"Good to know at least some of your self-preservation is still intact."
He started to lead me forward a few steps, but I caught his arm with my opposite hand. "Edward," I whispered, all trace of humor gone now. "You know I trust you, right?" The words came with a tightening in my throat that spread to my chest when he didn't answer right away.
"I know that, Bella," he said softly, "I do."
What he didn't say was that knowing didn't always make it easier, that it didn't always make it hurt him less when I uncontrollably pulled away from his touch. And it was what he didn't say that weighed most heavily in my chest, like a knot that couldn't be undone.
I felt his thumb stroke the back of my hand. "Come," he said gently. I squinted through the darkness and let him lead me through what felt like an opening between the soft branches of two shrubs…it felt surprisingly familiar…"Since you can't sleep anyway I figured it would be a shame to waste such a perfect night."
It was then that I knew where we were. I could hear the distant sound of the river in the background, feel the tickle of the long grass through the cotton of my pajama pants, as well as the subtle breeze of now being outside the shelter of densely packed trees.
The meadow.
It had always held its own kind of magic, but, coming here at night for the first time, it had a different kind of magic.
My gaze moved upward to where the clearing opened up into the night sky, and I was awe-struck by the most spectacular display of stars I could ever remember seeing. The night was completely clear, and we were far enough from civilization that there were no nearby lights to dampen the view. Not even the moon was visible tonight. It made for a perfect night for stargazing, that was for sure. "It's beautiful," I said breathlessly. With my neck craned upward, I turned slowly in a circle, taking it all in before coming to a stop again.
A twinge of longing trilled through me. Longing for a child's folly of starlit dreams. For the sheltered comfort of fairytale endings and beliefs that the world was a place where good always prevailed over evil. That one could make a wish on a star and have it come true.
If only life were that simple.
I felt Edward's arms come around me from behind then. And he felt so strong and hard and safe that suddenly there were tears slipping down my cheeks. Just a silent, steady flow that came for no particular reason except that they needed to. There was no stopping them. They just were. And I closed my eyes and just let them come.
I felt Edward's chin nestle on top of my head—I always fit so perfectly beneath him—and then he was turning me in his arms. I flattened my palms against his chest, and he seemed to know what I needed better than I did. Because then he was kissing me. Just a soft press of his lips against mine. A sweet, surprisingly innocent kiss that was just such an act of kindness and love that my heart seemed to freeze with the wonder of it. When he moved to brush his lips ever so delicately along my jaw and then down to the tender spot above my collarbone, the tight knot in my chest that had been growing ever since that last full-fledged panic attack several days ago loosened.
I hadn't destroyed all the progress we'd made after all.
And I only realized then just how desperately I'd needed that reassurance.
More tears came, slopping miserably down my cheeks, and I squeezed my eyes closed. "Sorry," I croaked.
His arms flattened me against his chest. "You're entitled," he muttered.
After the last of my tears had sunken into his shirt, I flopped against him, letting his arms carry the majority of my weight as the late hour finally started to catch up to me.
"Here," he murmured, leading me to the right a few steps. Squinting down at my feet in an attempt to see where I was going, I stumbled slightly, and Edward's arm righted me again. He chuckled. "You really can't see a thing, can you?"
"Well it is the middle of the night, you know," I huffed.
"Yes, I believe you mentioned that already." His opposite arm caught me behind the knees and then he was gently laying me down on something soft. He'd spread out a towel amidst the grass, I realized. He'd thought of everything as usual. "See, much better," he said.
"Only if you join me."
I could just catch the tiniest bit of movement beside me as he complied, but somehow I knew when he was lying beside me.
Twisting to lie on my side facing him and propping myself up with an elbow, I reached out a hand to find him in the darkness, feeling suddenly shy when I realized that he could see me but I couldn't see him. My fingers came into contact with the hard muscle of his bicep. Evidently he'd removed his sweater. No complaints here. I traced the bulge with my fingertips before moving to slide my palm up to his chest. My cheeks warmed when I sensed Edward's eyes on me, but I couldn't seem to help my sudden fascination. There was just something thrilling about exploring him blindly. Even if I couldn't see, my hands seemed perfectly apt to marvel him by other means.
Blushing further at that thought and grateful once again that he couldn't hear it, I quickly moved my hand up from his chest to safer territory, tracing his jaw and then moving to memorize the sharp angles of his face simply by touch. I found his lips with my fingertips and then bent to press my own against them in a brief but tender kiss. When I drew back I felt his eyes heavy on me again.
"If I knew this was what awaited me I would've kidnapped you in the night and brought you here a long time ago."
My cheeks flared hot, and I ducked my head against his shoulder, hoping that maybe it was too dark for even him to notice my face was tomato red.
I felt the back of his hand stroke my cheek and sighed at his wintery touch. Nope. He'd definitely noticed.
"Do you come here a lot?" I asked him finally, turning my head back to face the brilliant, star-packed sky. "At night like this, I mean."
"Sometimes," he admitted, entwining his fingers in mine. There was pause. "During my early stages of this life…" he began slowly, "…when I wasn't trying to fit into whatever role it was I was supposed to be playing during the day…I would often find some secluded spot like this at night, just to get away…"
He almost sounded lonely all of a sudden, forlorn, and my heart caught. I brought our joined hands up to my cheek, stroking his fingers with my thumb. "To get away from what exactly, Edward?" I pressed.
"Everything," he said quietly. "For one, it was nice to escape the constant buzz of so many inane voices in my head. But mostly…mostly it just brought me comfort. The night sky and its vastness was one of the only things that didn't change when I became a vampire, you see. Even with all those enhanced senses the stars always looked the same. It made me feel…connected, in a way, to who I used to be…to being human."
I took a long breath. I couldn't bear the lonely image his words brought me. "Wasn't there something you liked about being a vampire, Edward?" I tried. "Being immortal?"
There was a long moment of silence, then he gave me one simple answer:
"Time is worth nothing if you have no one to share it with."
The pain in those words wrapped around my heart. The thought of him spending all that time alone was devastating. "And now?" I whispered.
He kissed the back of my hand. "Now I have you. Nothing else mattered once I'd found you."
I twisted to move closer to him, resting my chin on his shoulder. "Will you tell me more about your human life, Edward?" I asked, toying with a button I found on his shirt. The last time I'd brought up this subject he hadn't seemed all that enthusiastic.
It wasn't much different this time; I could almost feel the wall of caution go up.
"You know I don't remember much of my human life," he said.
"But you remember some things."
I felt him shrug. "Bits and pieces here and there. Nothing very interesting, I assure you."
"It is to me," I said. Then I drew in a breath, gathering my courage. "Why do you always avoid talking about your human life with me, Edward?"
Silence again.
"Edward…?" I said softly.
Finally, he answered. "Is it not unsettling," he began quietly, "for you to be reminded of the fact that I'm older than even your grandparents?"
Slowly, but surely, the realization sank in.
"At any rate," he went on, clearly oblivious to my shock, "My life started when I found you. None of the rest matters anymore."
"Edward Cullen," I said, my voice deathly quiet. "Are you telling me you've avoided talking about your past because you think it will make me feel uncomfortable about our age difference?" I might have laughed—if I didn't feel like strangling him instead.
"Well that would be the normal reaction," he mumbled.
I rolled onto my back and suppressed a groan. Did he honestly think that something so trivial would make the slightest difference to how I felt about him? "You have to know that doesn't matter, Edward. It's never mattered. And you can't just toss aside your past. Your human life is a part of you—a part of who you are. It made you into the man I love, and I wouldn't change any of it."
I could see his silhouette against the starry sky as he sat up, and I sensed his eyes fierce on me now. "You're incredible, you know that?"
"Yes. But reminders are always welcome."
He gave a short laugh. "I'll be sure to remember that."
"So are you going to talk to me about your human life now?"
"Yes," he promised. I started to sit up but he pushed me gently back down again. "But not tonight."
I puffed out a breath in exasperation, then felt his lips against my temple. "Patience, my dear Bella," he whispered. "I will not go back on my word. But it's late, and you are exhausted. Or have you forgotten that it's the middle of the night?"
My insides went just a little more watery. Darn vampire. He always knew just how to get what he wanted.
He drew back, and then I felt his fingertip trace beneath my eye, just barely touching my skin. "I've been talking too much already," he murmured. "You should rest now."
Ah, now here was the concerned Edward I'd been expecting earlier. But could he honestly see well enough to see the bags under my eyes? I pressed the back of my hand to my forehead and sighed.
"Hey, hey, none of that." He pried my hand away. "You just need to relax, and you'll sleep fine."
"I don't know why I'm having so much trouble falling asleep. I should definitely be tired enough," I said dryly.
"You have a lot on your mind. Makes it hard to wind down."
"So do you," I found myself muttering, remembering that tired look in his eyes that was sometimes more apparent than others; he was good at hiding what he didn't want others to see.
But not good enough. Not from me.
"I don't sleep," he said, shrugging off my concern.
"So that's why you brought me here," I realized. "To help me wind down enough to sleep?"
"Yes."
"And you're going to make me go back already, aren't you?" I guessed.
He settled to lie down beside me again and took my hand. "Not if you don't want to."
My eyebrows went up. Sometimes there was just no figuring him.
We were silent for a few minutes, just staring up at the night sky, holding hands.
It truly was breathtaking. Edward had been right; I'd needed this. After spending days and days with my head buried in schoolbooks it was wondrously cleansing; the cool but fresh air, the constant buzz of crickets filling my ears, the thousands upon thousands of stars amidst the blackness, seemingly far but moving closer, wrapping around me like a blanket. It was oddly comforting, peaceful.
"Can I ask you something?" Edward said suddenly.
I turned my head in his direction. "I thought you'd talked too much."
He chuckled once. "Probably." He drew my hand up to his chest and his thumb stroked the bracelet at my wrist. "But the suspense has been killing me. Ever since your talk with Renee about this particular gift"—his thumb moved over the diamond heart charm—"I've been bracing myself for—"
"Wait, you know about that? You heard us?"
"—the wrath of Bella," he went on, "but have thus far been disappointed. Dare I ask if I'm off the hook, or have you just been waiting for the opportune moment to release your wrath on me regarding expensive gifts?"
"It's pending good behavior," I said.
He groaned.
"Kidding, kidding." I grinned. "You're off the hook. I like my bracelet and my diamond, so you're not getting it back."
"You know, just when I think I have you pegged, you still take me by surprise. Are you sure you're not going to change your mind?"
"Do you want it in writing?"
"Don't be absurd."
"How about in blood?"
"Bella!"
"Okay, okay, I was just joking. Relax, Edward."
He brought my hand up and kissed it briefly. "Thank you," he said.
"What for?" I asked, startled.
"For not throwing my gift back in my face, of course," he said teasingly, then added, "My mother's diamond…it suits you."
A heavy lump of regret suddenly appeared in my throat. Teasing as they may be, his words held a certain amount of truth; I had essentially thrown back any gift he'd tried to give me in the past. "Edward…" I started, my throat tight, "I'm sorry…for not…I—"
He put a finger to my lips. "It's alright, Bella. I understand. It makes it difficult…us not being on exactly the same playing field. If I were…a normal teenage boyfriend I wouldn't have all this money. But since I do…well, what else would I spend it on, if not on you?"
I scooted myself closer into his side. "I don't like normal," I said. My hand was against his face and I felt him smile.
"Does this mean I can get you a graduation gift?" he asked.
"Don't push your luck."
He sighed emphatically.
I drew a circle on his chest with my fingertip. "I'll let you get me a graduation present, but only if it's what I choose."
I could almost see his eyebrow go up. "And what is it you want?" he asked suspiciously.
"Well, um, I was thinking…"
I trailed off, and he groaned. "Thinking what? You're killing me here."
"Well…" I bit my lip. "I was thinking maybe you could get me a cell phone."
Silence. He knew the significance of that request, just as I knew he would.
"You sure?" he said finally.
I nodded. I was holding my breath, I realized. I let it out slowly, trying not to think of the fact that the last time he'd given me a cell phone it had ended up smashed up against the wall of Jacob's house. I felt a bit dizzy. I closed my eyes. "I'm sure," I whispered. I wasn't going to spend the rest of my life letting these small details creep up on me, or fearing that they would. Facing them was better.
I laid my cheek against his chest, and he smoothed a hand over my hair. "Any specific type of phone you want?" he asked, his voice still gentle.
"Surprise me."
He kissed my forehead. "I can do that."
We were quiet again for several minutes, Edward's fingers moving gently through my hair.
"Edward?"
"Hm?"
"Will you take me to Chicago sometime?"
His fingers stopped, and he drew me a little closer. "Yes," he said after a moment. "I'd like that." His voice was quiet.
After that we lay there for a long while, the beauty of the night sky enveloping us. It must have been early morning by now. Probably not the most responsible thing in the world, being out this late when I had school tomorrow—not to mention shocking that it was actually Edward's idea…but still, in the end I felt much more relaxed now than when I'd been in bed unable to sleep. Guess that was exactly why he'd brought me here.
I closed my eyes. Even just listening to the sounds of nature was calming. The loudest was the crickets—the buzzing of what sounded like hundreds. I'd always loved the sound. It reminded me of summers I'd spent in Forks with Charlie, when we'd gone camping together. That had been one of the few things I'd actually enjoyed about visiting Forks. And speaking of camping…
My eyes snapped open, and I turned my head in the direction the sound had come. "What was that sound?" I blurted out.
"I can hear lots of sounds, love. Can you be a little bit more specific?" came Edward's response.
"That rustling sound!" I hissed, annoyed by his lax tone. "There aren't any bears in this area, are there?" My voice went up in pitch slightly.
He chuckled, sounding highly amused. "Bella. Have you forgotten whom you're with? Even if there were bears in this area, I highly doubt they'd be even remotely foolish enough to get anywhere near me."
"Oh. Right."
He suppressed another chuckle.
I shoved at his shoulder, wincing slightly upon impact. "Well, maybe if you would actually let me see you hunt once in a while…"
That sobered him instantly. "Absolutely not!"
"Okay, okay. Chill. I had to try."
"Honestly, Bella, why would you even want to see that?"
I shrugged. "I'm curious."
He muttered something under his breath, and I let it go at that. The rustling noise had stopped now. Probably been the wind. Gosh, I was a bag of nerves. Not that that was anything new.
"But there aren't any bears in the area anyway, are there?" I asked, tucking my head back against his shoulder.
"No," he said, then added a moment later, "However, that doesn't mean you should get any ideas about wandering around the woods at night without me, or during the day, for that matter. You are likely to have a bear find you regardless."
I rolled my eyes but didn't argue; he was probably right. God knows danger always seemed to find me, I thought, feeling that tug of disheartenment and anxiety. And the thought of going through the woods alone was less than comforting. For a moment I tried to pretend Edward wasn't out here with me, and I shuddered.
"Are you cold?" he asked immediately, and before I could answer he was placing his sweater over my shoulders as a makeshift blanket.
It was large and cozy, and I curled up beneath it, cradled in the bend of Edward's arm. Any lingering anxiety seeped out of me, and we were just two people lying beneath the stars without a care in the world. For now, everything was perfect.
With the calming of my body came the undeniable need for sleep. It was welcoming, though, so very welcoming. I fought against my heavy lids for only a moment.
"It's alright," Edward murmured. "You can sleep. I'll get you home."
I had no doubt that he would. He always took care of me. My fingers tightened around the thin fabric of his shirt for a moment. My last thought before I let sleep pull me under was: who was taking care of him?
xxxxx
"Bella, I don't want you to feel you have to come to every scheduled appointment. You have a lot on your plate, and the purpose of our meetings is to talk only when you're up to it."
Dr. Sandra Williams was watching me with kind eyes.
I shook my head. "No, I…I wanted to come today."
It was four o'clock on Tuesday, only a day before the start of exams, and Sandra and I were seated across from each other in her office, where her one-on-one counseling sessions always took place. The room did not fit the stereotypical description of a psychiatrist's office in that there was no couch where one was intended to pour out one's troubles. Instead there were four comfortable, padded chairs with armrests surrounding a small coffee table. The room was small but cozy, with an orderly desk against the back wall and shelving containing numerals files and books adjacent to it. Several scenic framed photographs adorned the walls, along with a few framed pictures of smiling stick people that were clearly drawn by a child's hand. The overall atmosphere was friendly and inviting.
Dr. Sandra Williams—who'd told me to call her Sandra the first time we'd met—was nice too. This was my third session with her. She was probably in her forties and seemed very genuine and sincere, which I liked a lot. She displayed sympathy but not pity—and yes, there was a big difference between the two, though one tended to understand the difference better after having the whole town learn that one was raped. But, yes, I liked Sandra. And she was good at her job.
She was extraordinarily attentive and good at interpreting people. Unfortunately that tended to be a bit unsettling, I thought to myself, squeezing my hands together while her sharp blue eyes continued to watch me, not unkindly though. She was just one of those people who could look you in the eye and make you feel transparent. Handy talent, that. For a psychiatrist especially.
She was waiting for me to speak first; it usually worked this way, which was another thing I hadn't expected. I'd thought that she would mostly take the lead, but no, she was good at listening without pushing.
Even so, it was never easy talking about the horrible parts of one's past with anyone. It was like ripping off old scabs and digging up wounds you'd much rather forget.
Regardless, going to a psychiatrist was supposed to help in the long run, right? So here I was.
I unclasped my hands, then folded them together again a second later.
Eventually, Sandra put me out of my misery, asking me questions about how my week was going, encouraging the conversation. She was good at that, too.
She got me talking. About the easy stuff…and the not so easy stuff. But, again, that was what I was here for—the not so easy stuff.
So I told her about how on Thursday I'd followed her advice to get back into normal routines. Agreed to hang out with Angela after school to do some catching up, chatting, jogging...
And how I'd never actually managed to do said activities. Never even made it out of the house, in fact. Edward had ending up calling her, telling her I wasn't feeling well. Which had been true. To an extent. You never felt all that great after discovering you were so messed up you couldn't even put on a pair of shorts without dredging up bruises that were best left buried—especially when they were invisible.
Yes, this was the not so easy stuff to talk about. It crushed me just a little bit further each time I had to be reminded of the fact that he could still affect me this way, even from the grave.
Sandra was reassuring as always, reminding me that all of the symptoms related to the assault; panic attacks, flashbacks, exaggerated startled response reactions, etc. were normal and were all ways in which the mind and body dealt with a traumatic experience. That half the battle was recognizing and understanding the reasoning behind these symptoms. She talked about how in a sexual assault the scene of the crime was the body itself, and how this made the body an enemy to the victim, reminding them of what they wished only to forget. That resolution lay in awareness and empowerment. She told me about how a sexual assault can change the core of one's beliefs, morphing them into something that is actually untrue and can unknowingly infiltrate the survivor's lives and lead to many of the symptoms. That part of the healing process is to uncover one's true belief system. That survivors must find the power to overcome the false beliefs instilled at the time of the assault, and that the key to finding that power can come in all different kinds of shapes and forms unique to the individual. Some find it in religion, for example. Another might find it by taking part in an activity that fills them with pride and self-worth—volunteering in a homeless shelter, for example. Or one might find it simply from the people in their life. Every survivor's story was different, she said.
And she asked me directly why I'd panicked suddenly at the thought of going out in the shorts.
"I don't know," I whispered. It wasn't true, of course. But how did one explain that feeling of dirty, filthiness? Of shame? The feeling that everyone would just look at you and know. The feeling that no matter how hard you tried you would never be rid of it.
"Bella," she said gently, "I want you to think carefully before answering this question, okay?" She paused briefly. "Do you feel in any way responsible for what happened that night of the assault?"
I stiffened and dug my fingernails into my palms. "I…I've told you…" I whispered. Why did she have to keep asking me this question? Yes, I had blamed myself once, but I was over that, and I'd told her as much the last time she'd asked.
"Yes, but sometimes these things are more complicated than we realize. Sometimes—"
"You think I don't know my own mind?" I snapped, surprising myself with my sharpness.
She smiled slightly. "Nobody truly knows their own mind. The mind is a very complex thing." Her eyes were soft on me now. "I think you know that you shouldn't blame yourself, that primarily the fault lies with your assailant. But sometimes…sometimes when we delve deeper into the mind, we find lingering feelings, feelings that even we ourselves may not have been aware of."
I was shaking my head, but my insides were flopping uneasily at her words. I didn't want to think about this. What did it matter anyway? What's done was done.
She was watching me steadily. "Bella, what is it that those girls at school were saying?"
My head snapped up. "What?"
"You've told me a little bit about it, the talk that goes on." Her look was sympathetic. "I know it's been rough for you at school, and—"
"It doesn't matter what they say," I said quickly. "I never let their words get to me."
She gave me a sad smile. "Sometimes these things get to us more than we realize."
My stomach clenched, and I turned to gaze out the window above the desk. It was raining lightly. My throat grew clogged, and I realized she was right; their words had hit a sore stop I hadn't known was there. Or, at least, one that I'd thought I'd eliminated. After all, why should it matter now if I had or hadn't done something that had played a part in Jacob's actions that night? In the end it still came down to the fact that he'd raped me, and I knew that, I truly did. The rest shouldn't matter. Yet somehow it did.
My shoulders shook slightly, and I closed my eyes, holding my breath before releasing it with a shuddering choked sound. "I just…I can't help but think that I brought it on somehow. That if I had only ended things with him sooner…" I swallowed. "Lauren," I said quietly, fixing my gaze on my hands. "She said…how everyone knows there's no such thing as a girl being 'just friends' with a straight, single guy, and that…" My shoulders shook again. "that I led Jacob on," I whispered.
Sandra seemed to consider that for a moment, and it made me feel that she was truly listening to everything I said. I liked that about her. A lot. She tried to level her eyes with mine, then said, "Even if that were true—and I'm not saying it is—it does not in any way excuse his actions. From the moment he took away your free will, his actions were his responsibility and his alone."
"I know that, really, I do. I just…" I squeezed my eyes closed. "How could I have been so…stupid?" I asked in a choking whisper. "How could I have not seen what he was really like? Edward…he always told me not to trust him…"
She let me take in some short breaths before responding. "I know it's easy to think that way, sweetie. But people like Jacob…well, their behavior is erratic at best. More often than not it's next to impossible to see that other side of them until it's too late."
I wrapped my arms around my stomach and nodded, my gaze fixed on the window. It was still raining.
I would be driving myself home, which had been at my own insistence. It was no big deal. Sandra's office was in the same building as the regular doctor's office and was only a short drive from home. But the counseling sessions always left me feeling drained, and I found myself wishing fleetingly that Edward were coming to pick me up. I wanted…What did I want exactly? It was selfish, that was for sure. The reason I'd insisted on driving myself to these sessions in the first place was to spare him from hearing yet even more thoughts of the rape—and from my therapist, no less. He got enough of that from school as it was. Yet still I couldn't help wanting him to be here at the end of the session to take me home. Silly, I knew.
"Penny for them?"
I jumped and turned back to face Sandra, realizing I'd been staring off into space for longer than I'd be aware of. "Sorry, I was just thinking."
"Want to talk about it?" she offered. "You looked troubled."
"Um, it's just Edward. He…he always seems to avoid the subject of my therapy sessions," I said quietly. "I mean, he asks how I'm doing when I come back from a session, but he never asks me how it went or anything, and I…I don't understand why…"
"Well did you ask him why?"
Something that was almost a laugh came out of my throat. "I guess that would be the obvious thing to do, huh? You make it seem so simple."
She smiled. "Sometimes it is that simple."
"You're right. I will…Ask him, I mean…"
I realized then that the session was almost over and I'd yet to bring up the subject that had been my main reason for coming to see her today.
Sandra seemed to realize I had something else I wanted to talk to her about; she was watching me expectantly again.
I fiddled with my bracelet. "Um, so there's doctor patient confidentiality between us, right?"
"Of course."
If I hadn't already gotten her attention, I certainly had it now.
My hands felt sweaty, but I gathered my courage. "Well, um, it's about Edward…" I swallowed. "I'm worried about him," I said.
She nodded. "I know this must be tough on him as well."
"Yes," I said thickly, feeling the pain well in my chest. "But it's even worse than you know." I drew in a breath. Somehow I had to tell her without giving away Edward's secret. I had to for Edward's sake. I had Sandra to help me, but who was helping Edward? Maybe if she knew the horror that Edward had faced she would be able to help me help him.
In the end it was mostly the truth that I told her. I simply told her that on that day of Jacob's suicide, before Edward had managed to take Jacob down, Jacob had forced Edward to see the rape. The words had been hard to say aloud, the pain in my chest making it harder than I'd expected to get them out, but I'd got them out just the same. Of course, I hadn't been able to tell her he'd seen it all in his mind, but since it was essentially the same thing in the end, it hadn't been too difficult to tell her the one lie—that Jacob had had a video recording on his cell phone with snippets from that night.
Sandra seemed to take this new information well, never interrupting me and hiding her shock well, because who wouldn't find it shocking, hearing that Jacob could be that cruel?
The pain squeezed my chest again, and there were tears in my eyes when I'd finished.
My fingers went to my bracelet again, the familiar feel of it beneath my fingertips comforting somehow. "It's eating away at him, I just know it is," I whispered, feeling my eyes burn again. "But I know he'll never agree to get help. He…he's headstrong, you know? He likes to pretend he's invincible."
"A very common Y chromosome trait, that," she said with a brief smile. Then her eyes were focused, gentle as she looked at me. "How about you bring him here with you to our next session?" she suggested. "The three of us can talk."
I bit my lip and nodded. I wasn't sure it would be the best idea, given that Edward could read her mind, but on the other hand, maybe she could help him.
She told me to think about it, and she also told me about couples counseling options on a more official basis and that I should talk to Edward about it. I agreed, feeling that maybe, despite the major complication of his being a vampire, we could make this work somehow. Edward needed help too, even if he was too stubborn to admit it.
And I was going to make sure he got it.
After discussing different counseling options, the one-hour session was up. A glance out the window showed me it had started raining heavily now, and I groaned silently to myself; I hadn't parked my truck that close to the entrance.
When Sandra went to retrieve her datebook from her desk so that we could schedule the next appointment, my eyes went to look through the glass panel in the door that lead to the hallway, and I leapt to my feet.
When I pulled open the door, he stopped mid-pace down the hallway, turning to face me, his hand falling abruptly to his side, and he actually looked startled, as if he hadn't heard me coming for once. His hair was damp from the rain and furrowed from where his fingers had just been pulling anxiously through the strands.
"Bella! I just got here…but I wasn't listening…I just—"
He broke off when I reached him and seemed startled once again when I stood on my tiptoes to hug his neck.
"You came," I rejoiced, sounding more pleased than the occasion probably warranted.
Edward definitely seemed taken aback. "I…I thought you didn't want me to come," he said, but his arms settled around me to return my embrace.
Didn't want him to come? And what had he meant by he 'wasn't listening'? It hit me then that he'd misinterpreted the reason why I'd insisted on driving to the therapy sessions myself. He'd thought it was because I wanted to keep my discussions with my therapist between her and me, that I hadn't wanted him to be a part of it. I suppressed a groan of annoyance and relief. That was why he'd been avoiding asking me about my sessions. He'd thought I didn't want to talk about them with him. I wanted to smack him. Didn't he know by now that we were in this together?
"Ah, you must be Bella's Edward."
I dropped my arms from around his neck at Sandra's voice, my eyes darting over my shoulder at her and then back up at Edward.
His hands slid from around me to rest on my hips. "I am," he said, looking over my head at her.
My insides squeezed warmly at his response, and a tiny flush of color came to my cheeks, from shyness as much as pride at hearing him being labeled as mine. I decided I liked the sound of it. I liked it a lot, in fact.
"Sandra," she said, holding out her hand for him to take, and her eyes were twinkling brightly as she looked at us.
I realized I was gripping his arm and released it quickly so he could accept her offered hand.
"Lovely to meet you, Edward. I hope you know Bella here talks a lot about you." Her eyes were still twinkling.
Edward lips turned up slightly as he released her hand.
He looked almost…awkward under her gaze. Normally he was so refined and composed around people that seeing otherwise was strange. Granted, after having been under Sandra's intuitive eye myself I could certainly relate, but usually nothing fazed him, and he actually looked uncomfortable.
I surreptitiously stroked his chest in a comforting gesture and felt his palm move against the small of my back, barely touching.
I studied him more closely. It wouldn't have been enough for anyone who didn't know him well to notice, but there were faint creases in his brow and his jaw looked tight. My heart twisted a little. Maybe he was getting from Sandra's thoughts that I'd told her about him seeing the rape. But, no, that wasn't it. He was straining to not listen to her thoughts, I realized. Normally, it wasn't that difficult for him to do—he did it all the time to respect his family's privacy—but I feared he'd been so drained mentally recently that controlling his gift seemed more of a strain for him. The familiar ache settled in my stomach. Too bad I couldn't tell him he didn't need to bother blocking thoughts this time. At least not for my sake, anyway.
"So," Sandra said, and I focused my eyes on her when I realized she was talking to me, "we just need to schedule you in for your next appointment, Bella. Then it looks like I leave you in good hands," she said, smiling at Edward.
He nodded politely at her. "I'll wait for you here," he said to me, dropping his hand from my back, and I followed Sandra back through her office door.
After fixing up the next appointment and accepting some pamphlets from her about couples counseling, I thanked her and turned to leave. She stopped me.
"Bella," she said.
I turned back to face her.
"Remember what I told you about finding your power?"
I nodded.
"Well, if I'm not mistaken, the key to yours is standing on the other side of that door," she said with a faint smile.
I followed her eyes to where Edward stood in the hallway several feet away from the closed door, facing sideways from us, his head lowered as if there was something very fascinating about the faded carpet in the hallway.
Sandra stepped over to me and placed a friendly hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Hold on to that one, Bella. I believe you've got yourself a keeper." Her eyes were light, but I could tell she meant it.
I felt that rush of pride again and said to her steadily, "I know I do."
She smiled at that and moved back behind her desk. "Oh and, Bella," she said, stopping me in my tracks for the second time. "Don't forget it works both ways."
I stood there for a moment, taking in Edward's uncharacteristically disordered appearance through the door.
Oh, I know it does, I thought to myself. If only I could convince him of that.
Author's note:
Thoughts? Comments? Slaps on the head for taking so long to update? Anything…? Just drop me some kind of line. Or word. Or whatever the heck you want just to let me know you're out there. It means the world.
I feel this was a heavy chapter and it was a tough one to write. In the next chapter there is a pretty big turning point in the story, and I'm excited for that.
Now, let's talk updates because I know what you must be thinking: Is she going to keep taking six months to update? The story will never get finished! I hear you, and the answer is no, I have no intention of keeping this slow pace of update schedule, and yes, the story will get finished. I can't exactly promise update times, but I do promise to finish the story. Also, I promise to do my damndest to update quicker. 2012 has been a slow year and I'm anticipating 2013 will be better.
Just as a side note, and because I was feeling nostalgic now that the last movie is here, I wanted to share this Midnight Sun video that I made with you: youtube com(/)watch?v=56ZicVC46BE
I actually felt pretty sad after seeing the last movie and I didn't actually expect to because the books are what I love the most. But I guess I realized that with the movies finished the fandom may slow down a lot, and the thought of that happening made me really sad! For me it's not even close to being over! I love writing and reading fanfiction and see myself being here for a long time. But I wanted to ask, do you all feel the same? Are you not leaving anytime soon? I really hope you feel the same and will be sticking around.
