A/N: HA! FFN is working again! So anyways, this update is long overdue and not really that great and all of that but hey, at least it's an update, right?
Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, don't rub it in, Twilight doesn't belong to me.
Edit: Haha, I'm an idiot. Apparently at one point I actually wrote "Chief Cullen" instead of "Chief Swan!" Chalk one up to being sleep deprived while writing!
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I was going to have to make this one up to Charlie—I had just put him through his own personal Hell.
Was it so very wrong that I was one the verge of laughing as I leapt out of the passenger's seat of the cruiser and jogged—very slowly for me—to the doors of the store, searching for my Bella?
As I was driving down her street earlier that day, I had noticed that the red monstrosity that she called a truck was gone, an unusual occurrence on a quiet Saturday afternoon like this one. I had nearly resolved to continue driving past until it occurred to me that I still needed to gain Charlie's permission to take Bella out this weekend and that there was no time like the present. After all, the man's thoughts were already centered on me and there was no way possible that he would dismiss the appearance of a silver Volvo on his street as a mere coincidence.
He had admitted me into the house reluctantly after explaining that Bella was not home, but should be back shortly. I know that he meant for his dark, forbidding looks to change my mind, but Charlie Swan had no idea what he was up against: as Esme had so frequently pointed out, I could be as immovable as a brick wall if I so wished to be. Today, I wished to be. And to top it all off, I was in an incredibly good mood—it was hard to keep the silly grin off my face, even with Charlie ready to crucify me. Or, at the very least, interrogate… from the direction his thoughts were going, he obviously wasn't going to wait very much longer before demanding—
The brisk ringing of the phone had interrupted my thoughts, as well as Charlie's. Saved by the bell. Still, the man had glared at me a moment longer before lifting the phone of the hook and answering brusquely: "Hello?"
Near silence on the other end—my ears had picked up the faint beeping of a scanner, footsteps…
Bella's voice—"Dad?" She was still in the grocery store. That explained everything…
I had pretended to jerk to attention when Charlie uttered his special nickname for her and asked her what was wrong. Really, I couldn't have been paying any more attention than I already was. Her voice resonated, clear but subdued, over the phone line: ""I, uh, locked myself out of the truck."
I hated her truck. It was a disaster waiting to happen. There was always something about to fall apart. Really, the attachment that she had for that monstrous beast she called a vehicle was absurd. With a new car—or, considering that this was Bella, perhaps something more along the lines of Emmet's nearly indestructible Jeep would be best—she wouldn't have any of these problems. And the truck was so inconvenient! A newer automobile would be equipped with an electronic key pad for keyless entry: perfect for Bella, who could lose things faster than even I could find them.
Charlie's voice had broken through my thoughts again—"Do you know where the extra set of keys is?"
Even I had known that there wasn't an extra set. Still, to cover my tracks, I caught his eye and half-whispered: "Locked her keys in the car?" He covered the mouthpiece and muttered an affirmative response reluctantly. I waited patiently for him to finish, adding nothing more to the conversation than that I would be accompanying him. He didn't seem to be too fond of the idea but didn't protest.
The car ride had been interesting, to say the least. After a few moments of awkward silence, Chief Swan suddenly went into investigating police officer mode, bursting with questions: If I knew that Bella cared, why had I left? Didn't I know what would happen?
No, I hadn't known what would happen. I'd left because I'd had to, not because I wanted to. I loved her, wanted to be with her the rest of my life—but I thought that she didn't want the same. So leaving her was the only thing that I could do for her, a sacrifice that I could make for her, to let her move on with her life. That was the only reason that I agreed with Carlisle's opportunity to change employment. If not for me, we would have stayed. And then our family couldn't take it anymore: we came back.
Every word was true. Ambiguous, but heartbreakingly, achingly true.
You could cut the tension in the cab of the cruiser with a knife. Charlie was feeling guilty: I knew that much. Still, we had one thing in common: neither one of us would be able to forgive me for breaking Bella's heart. But I could begin to make amends.
"I know that Bella's still grounded, but well, Chief Swan—" I began, but he cut me off, gruffly muttering, "It's still Charlie."
That was a good sign—I smiled. "Well, Charlie, I was just wondering if it would be alright if I took Bella to a gallery opening in Seattle," here he turned to glare at me, but I continued before he could open his mouth, "because Esme had a painting accepted into the show and she would love it if Bella were there too. I know Alice would be excited to see her too."
Perhaps that was a bit low of me, throwing in Alice's name like that: I knew that Charlie appreciated my sister and would deny her nothing it was in his power to give, especially after all that she had done for Bella. Still, it worked—he reluctantly complied with my request, then went on mumbling about an early curfew and something else that I didn't pay attention to. From his thoughts, I could gather that he really didn't like the idea—or me, for that matter. And he especially did not like having to grant me what I asked or remaining there with me in an enclosed space.
That was why it had been a bit of a relief to leap out of the car and search for Bella. That, and the wait to see her face had seemed interminably long.
Her scent assailed me as soon as I crossed the threshold: how could a fragrance so delicate be so incredibly powerful? I could happily spend the rest of my life with only that aroma in my nostrils, because that meant that she would be there, that I would be able to see that slow, secret smile that crept over her lips every time we kissed and hear her voice ring in my ears, more powerful than any melody. I crossed the small distance between us, gently lifted her face with one hand and kissed her soft, full mouth as I drew her up to stand beside me.
"You know," she whispered breathlessly, "I think that makes up for everything else that's happened today."
"Does it really? I suppose I won't be able to kiss you anymore today then, if that makes everything better. After all, we don't want you feeling too good, do we now?" I teased. She smirked for a moment before standing on her tiptoes and kissing me full on the mouth.
"As far as I'm concerned, there's no such thing as 'too good' or too many kisses from you," she whispered, lips still against mine.
I laughed, holding her tight to my chest. Bella, my precious Bella. No, there was not such thing as 'too good', not when it concerned her.
