28. Grievance

Edward's bedroom was just like it had been the one time I had been there before. I liked it, loved it, and I was pretty sure that was more to do with the fact that it was Edward's space than my fondness of any of the material stuff inside it. Sure, the technology and décor was outstanding, but the most prominent thing that stood out was the feel of it. Anyone who knew Edward could tell his name was written all over the room.

I walked inside onto the soft carpet and heard him move in after me. He shut the door lightly behind him, and I turned around so I could see him. He was facing me, his back leaning against the door, his eyes and expression calm. The dark colour of his shirt complimented the colour of his hair, making the unusual bronze hue startling and even more beautiful than normal. I opened my mouth, wanting to speak, but I found my throat was completely dry.

He took a deep breath, and then let it out. "Hey, Bella," he said, greeting me again. We were obviously starting over from the very start.

"Hey," I said, feeling stupid. I watched, my gaze following him, as he strode across the room slowly and sat down on his desk chair that looked like it hadn't been occupied for a long time. The way he lowered his body into the seat made my heart ache from jealousy at his grace.

His green eyes continued to watch me from across the room. I still hadn't moved.

"So your father seems pretty nice," I blurted out, trying to fill in the massive gap of silence. I took a few steps forward so I was closer to him. "I'm sorry, I didn't know your parents would be down," I apologised. "I'm starting to think I came at a bad time." I shook my head awkwardly at my own stupidity and laughed nervously.

Edward shook his head, and I saw shadows underneath his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, resulting in an even more dishevelled look, his face now looking like he was dealing with a heck of a lot of stuff. "You're fine, Bella. I'm sorry if I'm coming off so weird, I've got to tell you—"

But I interrupted him. I had a feeling he was finally about to bring up that, what happened last night, and there was no way I was going to allow it. I was going to be the one who broached that subject, not the other way around. I was finally taking the control.

"No, stop," I told him, holding my hand up. "I'm the one who's sorry. About last night, I mean," I clarified, seeing his confused expression. Edward probably thought I was going to be too mortified to bring it up on my own and would need his help, but I was definitely proving him wrong.

He looked like he was going to try and speak again, so I hurried to continue.

"It was just—well, I don't really know. It sort of just happened, and I swear I didn't mean to do it, or actually meant anything by it . . . It was really embarrassing, and I really hope we can just forget it ever happened. You know, just agree it was stupid and didn't mean anything and just move on?"

My voice was getting higher the more I continued to speak, and I worried that if I said anything else, it would become ultrasonic. So I finished off there, with a sort of pleading tone of voice.

Edward's face was impossible to read, and I'd become an expert in the matter. Aside from the small tightening in his lips, I couldn't distinguish anything. Was he glad? Relieved? Shocked?

I cleared my throat, hoping it would get him to finally answer me. I shifted closer to his bed, considering the possibility of sitting down.

Edward finally spoke, and it was with a peaceful, controlled voice.

"You're embarrassed?" he eventually said, and I was exulted to at least detect some form of surprise in his tone, mixed along with the casual cool the exuded from him.

Well, that certainly wasn't the response I had predicted.

"Well, yeah," I said truthfully, scrunching up my face as I took him in. "Why wouldn't I be?" I asked rhetorically. "I guess I can understand if you aren't, you weren't the one to throw yourself at me and all and I suppose even if you had you would still be relaxed about the whole thing. But come on, you know me . . . That was humiliating. Please, please just agree to not read anything into it. I don't want to end up not being friends with you just because it gets awkward. I swear I'm not hung up on you or anything."

As I spoke, I was sure the only thing I was doing was cleaning matters up and making things clearer. You could never have guessed that from Edward's face. He seemed to be getting more and more confused. A dark shadow was spreading across his features.

I sighed, and I felt slightly panicked. What if this really was unfixable?

Before more crazy explanations could spill from my mouth, there was a sudden, load commotion downstairs, one that made me flinch in surprise. I swivelled around to stare at the closed door, completely caught off guard. A muffled yell sounded out, and even though I couldn't actually hear the words, I hazarded a guess that it was some form of an expletive.

I turned back to Edward, raising my eyebrows at him. "Really bad timing?" I guessed again.

Edward shook his head, covering half face with one of his hands as he leant his elbow on the corner of the desk. He rubbed his eye, suddenly looking a thousand years old.

"It's just Emmett," he explained, sounding tired.

"Emmett?" I repeated, that piece of information shocking me even more. "I didn't know he was here as well." What, had I picked the one time the whole entire family had convened for a cheery visit? Not good.

"He's not," Edward said. "I mean, he is now, but he wasn't before. I'd wager he just arrived back."

"Arrived back?" I echoed. It seemed I was missing some bit of information. It also seemed I was stuck in a habit of repeating him.

Edward sighed again. "I was trying to tell you, Bella. I missed school today because I was at the hospital at three in the morning today. Emmett's been away for a few days, so he has no idea what's gone on. Until now. I'm guessing he's just been told . . ."

I flinched again, but there was no disruptive noise to cause it.

"Wait, what?" I said, my mind whirling as I tried to make sense of his words. "What do you mean he's just been told? Told what? And what the hell where you doing at the hospital?" My hands were crossed protectively over my chest as I frowned, suddenly scared and concerned, forgetting that I was still standing in the middle of his room. "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

Edward shook his head. "Calm down. It's nothing to get worried about, I'm completely fine. I wasn't admitted to the hospital. I was the visitor, not the patient."

"The . . ." My frown intensified, my confusion growing while I felt some part of me sigh in relief that he was not physically ill or hurt. I made my way across his room and sank down gratefully onto the edge of his comfortable bed, needing to be off my feet as I talked because my legs suddenly felt like they couldn't support me weight. "Wait. Can you just explain this to me? I have a feeling I'm not understanding something."

Edward's eyes gazed up at the ceiling for a moment, and then landed back down onto me. I watched his lips form the words as he told me what was wrong.

"Bella, Carlisle's father . . . My grandfather . . . Well, he had a heart attack last night—or, I guess more correctly it was this morning. My parents are here today because we've just gotten back home about four hours ago. He—well, he didn't end up making it, and Carlisle and Esme both are pretty torn up about it, they—"

Oh yeah. Definitely grateful I was off my feet. My hands flew to my mouth as I tried to muffle the gasp that left my mouth. I couldn't believe what he was telling me. His grandfather couldn't be dead, couldn't have just died, because that meant I was the shittiest friend in the entire planet. While Edward was having to deal with his parents' and his own grief, I had been caught up in all my little worries that revolved around myself, obsessing over something entirely insignificant in comparison.

And I hadn't even shut up for long enough to let him actually explain what had gone on. No, instead, I had verbally bombarded him all my pathetic attempts to solve the wrong problem—my problem, not his.

"He died?" I checked, unable to believe it.

Edward nodded, looking troubled. "Yeah. Well, he was fairly old, something was bound to happen soon . . . Don't get me wrong, I'm upset, but I didn't know him as well as everyone else did. Carlisle's just lost his father, you can imagine how he's feeling, but even Esme is grieving, because she's always liked him. I can't even explain to you how hard my grandmother is taking it, she's downstairs but—"

"Shit," I swore out loud.

Edward looked up at me in surprise, and I couldn't believe that a small, amused smile was curving up his mouth.

He shook his head. "Jesus, that's the second time you've sworn at me now. I must be a bad influence."

"Oh, shut up!" I exclaimed, finding it insane that he was joking at a time like this. There were probably more people in his house than I'd assumed, all going without Edward because I'd barged my way in on a family crisis. Even so, a reluctant smile showed on my lips briefly at his teasing.

"Edward, I'm so sorry," I told him sincerely. "I had no idea something like this had happened. I wouldn't have come if I'd known."

Edward waved away my worry. "How where you supposed to know? I'm sorry I didn't call you. There didn't seem to be a right time to."

I tried not to gape at him, ignoring the sudden flutter his words gave me because this was morbid news and feeling like that now was ridiculous. But I couldn't help the happiness it gave me that Edward had thought of calling me. Me, not anyone else. It hadn't even crossed my mind.

I sighed, deflated and suddenly exhausted. Not even thinking about my actions, I lay down on his bed, turning on my side so I could still look at Edward. At another time, my actions would've shocked me. Not now, though.

"I'm still sorry though," I expressed glumly. "I was so stupid just showing up like this without even asking you what was wrong. I could see something wasn't right, but I was so desperate to sort out what happened last night I didn't stop to actually think. You must think I'm awful."

"No, you're not awful," Edward said quietly.

A heavy sort of silence seemed to hang in the air between us. I just stared at him, trying to figure out where to go now, what came next, what I was supposed to say. Every feeble plan I had before turning up here meant very little now. None of them covered a situation like this.

"Did you mean it?" Edward asked suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was gentle, becoming, the look of his grief more prominent.

"Meant what?" I asked softly.

"When you said it didn't mean anything to you last night. Did you mean it?"

His question caught me off guard. I was vulnerable, tired, mentally and emotionally spent. I stared into the dark green depths of his eyes and couldn't even fathom not giving him an honest response. Because I was always honest with Edward, even when I couldn't seem to be honest with myself.

And looking at him? Looking at him right now, I realised I already knew the answer to his question. There really only was one answer, an answer that I'd buried deep within myself.

"No," I whispered, my voice breaking on the word. I understood now that that was the truth. "No, I didn't mean any of it."

Edward's eyes were burning, burning into mine, seeing into the very depths of me, seeing things that I probably wanted to keep hidden from him. He didn't comment on any of it, just kept looking, looking deep into my soul as I stared right on back. Finally, eventually, after it seemed he'd seen everything he possibly could, he responded.

"Good," he whispered back, and he offered me one of the smallest, sweetest smiles I'd ever seen.


XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I still for the life of me could not fathom why I'd picked this time to intrude upon something so delicate and sad.

I also couldn't figure out what I was still doing here.

Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that I kept getting caught up in the heavy gazes Edward kept sending me. Whenever I looked up, his eyes seemed to be on me, even from across the room. And, sure, I was used to having him look at me, but not like this.

Never like this.

But oh God, I felt bad. I was so out-of-place here, amongst a group of beautiful people who all were sharing their grief with one another over losing somebody each and every one of them loved. That was enough to cover and mask the secret and guilty joy I felt whenever I did catch Edward looking at me—how inappropriate was it to feel that way when somebody in their family had just died?

I was so horrible.

I looked up from my lap and instantly locked eyes with a serious-looking Edward, who still managed to give me a small, surreptitious smile with the corners of his lips and his eyes. Oh, God, his eyes.

I was such a goner.

Edward seemed to finally sense my ever-growing discomfort, and excused himself from the conversation he'd been having with his uncle. Before you ask, yes, one of his uncles was here as well. At least I was finally getting to meet some of his family.

Edward slid smoothly into the loveseat next to me, concern written all over his face. "You alright?" he wondered, his brow furrowing.

Now was probably not the right time or place to roll my eyes. I opted for a quizzical look instead. "You're just lost your grandfather, and your entire family is trying to deal with the shock of it all, and you're asking me that?" I whispered to him, not wanting anyone else to overhear me. I was trying to draw as little attention to myself as possible. I knew I didn't quite belong here.

He twisted his mouth thoughtfully. "Just because other people are upset doesn't mean I'm suddenly going to feel uncaring towards you," he replied back in a hushed tone. "Even when I'm upset, I'm always going to worry if you're alright."

Sigh. His words, as thrilling as they were, just made me feel more like crap. Thinking back to the moment in his bedroom—well, nothing had actually happened. I supposed that meant that nothing had really been sorted yet, but we did seem to have a bit of a better understanding of the other person now. This moment wasn't really the right time to go over all that, anyway.

"I am fine," I assured him. "I just . . . I don't know. You really don't think I should leave? I feel like I'm intruding."

Not that anybody here had made me feel that way or given me that impression. No, even at times of great sadness, the Cullen family were apparently highly accepting of just about anyone. When Edward and I had walked into the living room, I had taken in the view before me.

Carlisle was standing in the corner, listening intently to the quiet words another man was saying to him. He was somebody I didn't recognise at all, but I'd found out that it was Edward's uncle—Carlisle's brother—Anthony. He lived pretty far away, out of state, but he'd been visiting which was why he was so close by. He was handsome, with a round, kind face and hair slightly darker than Carlisle's.

An elderly lady was sitting in what looked like the most comfortable armchair there, her face filled with lines and creases that somehow enhanced the kind quality of her face—only she wasn't smiling. Her pale grey eyes were focused on a place that wasn't there, staring into nothing. It didn't take a genius to figure out this was Carlisle's mother. Her features told you exactly what you needed to know; she'd just lost the love of her life.

And then there was Emmett, his tall and prominent presence impossible to miss, his arms crossed over his chest angrily. It seemed that he was channelling his grief into anger, and there was a woman next to him who was obviously trying to reassure him as she struggled to come to terms with what she was saying, too.

I immediately wanted to balk and walk right back out of the room. It was one of the most solemn scenes I'd ever witnessed. I hadn't had much practise with death. The one person I'd known in my life to have passed away was an old man on my street. I didn't know how to act, or what was appropriate to say.

But then my eyes had caught Carlisle's. And he'd smiled at me, a sad, knowing smile, and suddenly I felt accepted. Still awkward, definitely, but slightly more at ease. This man had just lost his father and he had greeted me at the door like a friendly, polite gentleman before I'd even heard the news.

"Edward," I voice had spoken up, and I watched the woman who was beside Emmett walk over to the two of us. She briefly touched Edward's arm in a gentle, affectionate gesture, and gave me a warm, sincere smile.

She was beautiful. Don't get me wrong—every person here seemed to be freakishly perfect-looking. But this woman . . . She was absolutely breathtaking. Her hair was caramel toned and waved gently and neatly down her back, her eyes warm, her lovely, full lips pink and smiling.

I gaped like an idiot.

"You must be Bella," she had said warmly, her voice kind, but her eyes were still sad. "I know it's embarrassing for the both of you when I say such a cliché line, but I've heard so much about you. I feel like I've already gotten to know you."

And that was how I met Edward's adoptive mother. And that was how I'd eventually wound my way into one of the many plush seats, joining the small group of relatives.

And that was how I was now here, with Edward, talking to him some more.

"Of course you're not intruding," he chuckled quietly, answering my question from before. "Don't be silly. You should only leave if you want to. Don't feel obliged to stay."

I shook my head. "No, I don't feel obliged to stay. I want to be here. I just feel . . . Sort of useless, actually," I confessed, looking at him helplessly.

He put his arm around me, and I tried to stop my heart from spluttering unevenly as he did so. Everything he was doing was reminding me of the moment in his bedroom, reminding me of the way he'd whispered the small, simple and vital word 'Yes'.

I tried to stay calm, shaking away those thoughts and commanding myself to focus. This was ridiculous. Edward wasn't hyperventilating like some freak.

"You're not useless," he said very, very quietly. "Everybody here feels the same way, though. Nobody can really make anything that much better—all we can do is try. How do you think I feel? At least Emmett's visibly pissed. I'm yet to show much emotion at all. I'm every bit as out-of-place here as you."

I sighed, showing that I'd heard him. This really was such an awful moment.

"I am sorry though," he whispered. "For all this getting in the way. I know it's inconvenient timing." His hand around my shoulder suddenly seemed burning hot. "You really don't have to stay here. You wouldn't offend anyone. I can take you home, if you wish."

Gah. His voice was lowered so we didn't interrupt anyone else with our conversation, and the way he was whispering in my ear was driving me insane. How had I actually been with him like this before and not have been as aware as I was now? It seemed inconceivable.

"I don't want to leave," I told him truthfully.

I also didn't really want to leave him. Not know, not ever. Especially since I wanted to help somehow. I just didn't know what to do.

Just then Esme rose from beside Edward's grandmother, and announced quietly, "Would anyone like something to drink? I'm going to boil the kettle."

I didn't really think about it. I lifted my hand so I could removed Edward's arm from around me—no one found it weird he was half-embracing me, not at a time like this—and squeezed his hand so he wouldn't be offended. I stood up from the couch.

"Can I help you?" I asked unsurely, hoping Esme wouldn't object to my assistance.

She seemed a little bit surprised, but her smile my way was genuine. "Not at all," she said. "Thank you."

I smiled gratefully and followed her hurriedly from the room, sending Edward a reassured glance over my shoulder before slipping out.

"How are you, Bella?" Esme asked me as we entered the kitchen. I had to admit, the kitchen looked like it was rarely used. I suspected neither of the boys practised many culinary skills on a frequent basis.

"I'm fine," I said firmly, wishing everyone would stop trying to be so nice if it meant I wouldn't get asked that question so often. "How are you?"

That was clearly the more important question. Esme was already filling up the electric kettle at the sink as she replied; she obviously knew her way around the kitchen well.

"Oh, you know," she said, giving me a grim smile. "I'm sure you can imagine. It's a shame you never met Edward's grandfather. He was a kind man," she mused, looking sad. "He would have liked you very much."

"Really?" I said, sounding surprised. The way Esme conveyed the last part was in a way that made me feel like she really meant what she was saying—it wasn't just something she said for the hell of it.

"Yes, dear," she smiled at me. "You're a very intelligent young lady. He would've been quite taken with you." The noises from the kettle gradually began to increase in volume as the water inside heated up. "Do you mind passing me some cups?"

I hesitated for a second, and then my body kicked into action. I already knew where the mugs were kept; that was just luck. It certainly didn't mean I knew the way around the kitchen just yet, or the rest of this huge home, for that matter.

I realised that Esme was preparing hot cups of tea a few moments later. I smiled widely.

"Do you drink tea?" Esme asked, apparently noting the expression on my face as she poured the steaming water into one of the mugs.

"Definitely," I told her. "My roommate, who's also my best friend, is crazy about the stuff. She got me into it." I chewed my lip, surprised I was offering such free information. I wasn't a snob—I hoped. No, I was just normally too shy to say much. This didn't seem to be the case with Esme. It must be a trait in the family; or maybe I was just destined to feel comfortable around the Cullens.

"It's unusual for teenagers, I must admit," she said conversationally.

"Mmmm," I agreed. "But I wouldn't say Alice is your typical teenager. She just goes on about the positive qualities tea has. If I ever look even the slightest bit under the weather, she gives me some."

"I wouldn't say you're the typical teenager either, I think," Esme observed. "I'm very glad Edward knows you. You seem to be a great influence."

"I don't know about that," I confessed. "It seems more the other way around. Edward makes me a lot braver."

She gave me a warm smile, her caramel hair spilling out onto her shoulder as she turned to face me. "Well that's good. But you know, Bella, I think Edward is under the belief that I'm not aware of a lot when it comes to him, because he now lives with his brother." She shook her head. "But I'm not daft. Edward's a very honest and good young man—I'm always very proud of him. But I do know he can get into a bit of trouble sometimes, particularly at school. Since he's met you he seems to have settled down a bit." She leaned against the counter, crossing her arms, her face thoughtful. "I don't want you to think I openly talk about this a lot, because I don't. But between you and me, Edward's always been slightly . . . lost. He was a very troubled kid when we first welcomed him into our home; for years he was just sad. It was to be expected, I suppose. He's been through a lot."

I nodded, suddenly feeling very serious. The tragedy that happened with Edward's birth parents wasn't a subject we talked about much, but I knew enough about it. I was just so thankful he'd been taken in by such lovely and generous people. A lot of orphans weren't so lucky.

I said as much.

"He's very lucky to have you," I whispered softly.

Esme paused, and then continued on with what she'd been doing with the drinks. With her hands busy, she replied, "Well, that's a two-way street. I think it's Carlisle and I that are the lucky ones. We got two lovely boys.

"Have you met Emmett yet?"

"Briefly," I answered. "I don't know him too well personally, but I know of him."

Esme nodded. "Yes, well he's quite different from Edward." She turned, setting the kettle back down and turned towards me again.

"I think," she said slowly, "what we need is something nice to eat. That ought to make everyone feel a little better."

"I am so sorry for your loss," I said hurriedly and awkwardly, not wanting her to think I'd forgotten to say anything about it.

"Yes, it really is a shame. It doesn't quite feel like it, but I suppose it was his time."

"Edward said you were really close."

Esme nodded, already getting together something from the cupboard and fridge. "Yes, yes we were. Like I said, he was a great man. I couldn't think of a better father-in-law, actually." She sighed, pausing what she was doing as sadness washed over her. "Poor Elizabeth. She's completely lost. I don't think anyone's taking the news as hard as her."

I'd already figured out that Elizabeth was the grandmother of Edward. Twisting my hand together, I offered the only thing I knew.

"Would you like me to take the drinks in?"

The look Esme gave me let me know that she understood what I was trying to do. She nodded, looking so beautiful and sad and kind that it made me feel like crying myself.

"Thanks, Bella," she said, touching one of my cheeks briefly. "That would be a great help."

I took the tray of tea into the living room, finding it absolutely amazing the way such a small gesture was received by these mourning people. They smiled and murmured their thanks, and it was in that moment that I realised that just about any act of kindness, no matter how small, was always a help. It didn't matter that I couldn't make the pain go away. I supposed just being there was help enough.

As Edward's eyes caught mine yet again, I couldn't help but give him a small smile. I knew how lucky I was to have him. I was pretty sure I would be thanking the stars every night for the rest of my life for introducing him into my life.

"How are y—" he began to ask me when I reached his side.

I cut him off.

"You know, I feel as guilty as hell for saying this right now, but I couldn't be happier." I gave him a wider smile, because what I was saying was the truth. I knew it should've been wrong to feel that way, and yet, somehow, it felt right instead.

Perhaps I could bring some small portion of my happiness to this family in this moment. It was what I hoped. They needed it now more than ever.

And that was when Edward hugged me. His arms wrapped around me, bringing me closer to his warm body, and we stayed like that, locked in embrace for a long moment, completely oblivious to his family.

Well, almost. I was pretty sure that I saw, from the corner of my eye, Esme give us a large, knowing smile when she returned back into the living room.


Sorry for how long it took to update!!! Sooo my bad.

For the next week I probably won't be updating at all, even though I would really like to. I have work experience, from nine till five, every day. And I am soooo nervous! I'm working with the editor for one of the newspapers, which is pretty intimidating, but at least I'll be publishing some articles :-)

Love ya all!

xxx