Chapter TwentyNine
The date was March 13th, and a year had gone by so fast.
When she woke up that morning, the dread began to spread.
It was that day, that day all over again, and although so much time had passed there was nothing she could do to stop the emotions rising in her, not today.
Jasper didn't help, although he was trying. He brought her breakfast (burnt toast and bizarre tasting butter) in bed like some sort of invalid, and said he'd make excuses for her if she 'didn't want to leave the house today.'
Rosalie wanted to punch him, to make him stop with the sympathetic eyes and the empathetic smiles. He didn't have a clue how terrible this day was going to be for her, he couldn't begin to understand. And… after a whole year, he didn't seem to understand that she didn't want him to baby her. She wanted to somehow regain some independence, some self respect, and Jasper, hell, anyone except for Emmett, they couldn't seem to see that sometimes she needed to battle it out alone. She was cold in response to his suggestion, and assured him that she would be absolutely fine to go to the Cullens' for dinner that night.
Inside, her heart was racing, and not with anticipation, as it usually was at the thought of seeing Emmett. With disgust, and fear… she could feel those hands again, really feel them all over her… and inside she was filled with cold.
It was like the months she'd spent in Forks had evaporated, as she masked her face in makeup once more and kept telling herself those age-old, useless reassurances…
Breathe, Rose, breathe.
It was like none of it had really happened, Emmett hadn't happened, the arrests hadn't happened, nothing had changed since the day she stumbled home, bloody, bruised and forever broken…
Breathe, in and out. You're better than this.
It was like he could still come from around any corner, ambush her and finally finish what he started. Like they had with Chelsea…
She couldn't be thinking about that now. That wasn't her. She'd escaped, she'd survived.
Emmett loved her. She, maybe, was beginning to learn to love him back. And if she didn't go spiralling back down into this mess then maybe one day she could tell him that, maybe one day she could be more to him, maybe they could have forever…
There's no such thing as forever, not for you. You're damaged goods.
Tears were tracking down her face again, but she wiped them away fiercely. Jasper couldn't see. Carlisle couldn't see, because she knew the word 'psychiatrist' would come out of his mouth, and she couldn't have that…
She smudged more makeup over it, covering it.
With enough, she could bury it so deep that even she couldn't access it. Keep on burying it deeper and deeper and one day it would be the stuff of legend, a mystery, something that could never be found.
Until people started to dig.
Emmett greeted her with a kiss, as always, and he noticed no change, mainly because he was smiling widely at his brother – it was Edward's eighteenth birthday. He had his hand on the small of her back as he guided her through to the dining room, where Esme had laid food out for all of them, and was smiling through the kitchen-hatch, the perfect mother, head of her home.
To Rosalie, who'd forced herself into some sort of dreamlike state, everything was perfect to a degree of surrealism. Esme folding her apron in the kitchen and walking through to take her place at one end of the table, Carlisle, from his opposite end, pouring out glasses of champagne and smiling at his son, now a man. Edward, with the big goofy birthday badge forced onto him by his brother and sister, Bella beside him, her hand in his. Alice and Jasper, sitting opposite each other, either side of Carlisle, making eyes across the table, a slight pink hue to Alice's cheeks. And Emmett, sat at the far end beside his mother, grinning that loving, dimple-cheeked grin at her and patting the seat next to him, in between him and her brother.
A perfect, untroubled family.
And she was suddenly caught by the notion that she didn't fit. She didn't fit here, she didn't fit anywhere where people could be happy and smile and laugh and celebrate birthdays. She didn't fit where someone loved her, someone she couldn't even bring herself to tell about her past. She didn't fit here, making her brother constantly on edge when he was finally beginning to forge his own way and find a sort of happiness in the world she had labelled for him as bleak and unfriendly.
She tried to move, to sit beside Emmett, stay quiet and not ruin this for Edward, who, despite his first frosty exterior, she had come to care for with the same affection one holds for an irritating younger sibling. But suddenly her legs were frozen to the floor, her eyes were locked upon Emmett's smiling face, and she physically could not move a muscle. It was as if she had finally cracked, and turned to stone.
It was the realisation that had done it. The memories didn't matter, the pain didn't matter. She brought only suffering and damage to this perfect family. Where Jasper had filled a gap, made Alice happy, she was only a burden to Emmett, she only made a gaping hole larger because she wasn't what he needed – someone happy, beautiful, loving, whole, warm…
And she turned on her heel and ran.
He hadn't seen it coming, he'd been too preoccupied in the Edward situation, and since Valentine's Day, Rosalie had seemed happy pretty much all of the time. In hindsight, maybe he had been luring himself into a false sense of security, but he really had thought that something had changed, that she was getting better, that maybe they could just brush everything under the mat and be normal, and one day, in many years to come, she would tell him, offhand, when the moment was right, and however horrific the whole thing was he could simply hold her and make it all better.
He shocked himself there, for a moment, when he realised that he saw the future, clear as anything, in many years to come, with Rosalie by his side. He saw himself a life with her, the other details were hazy, but he realised he couldn't imagine his life without her.
But he had more pressing matters to deal with, in the moment, because she'd bolted. He'd through everything was fine, he'd thought this would be just another simple family gathering, where they laughed and made jokes and held hands under the table, and kissed a little on the chair swing in the back garden afterwards, providing an excuse for Rosalie to stay the night, simply encased in his arms until her breathing slowed and her eyes fluttered shut.
But it seemed fate had other ideas, and she'd gone from seeming absolutely fine – he realised with a sinking heart she was better at hiding things from him than he'd anticipated – to running, without a backwards glance, the fear flashing in her eyes again, fear he hadn't seen for months.
He got up quickly, his chair falling backwards against the wall, calling her name in protest. Jasper looked at him, his eyes bleak.
"Don't tell me not to go after her." Emmett said, his voice hard, metallic, his jaw set.
Jasper merely shook his head, as if conceding some sort of defeat, at last, almost as if he was finally handing over the responsibility of caring for, loving Rosalie, to the eldest Cullen boy. Emmett hardly waited for Jasper's response; he was out the front door and running down the drive way as fast as he could, where Rosalie was putting the M3 convertible into gear.
He ran out in front of the car, preventing her from moving anywhere. She looked up at him through tear stained eyes.
"Leave me alone, Emmett."
"Why?"
She shook her head in desperation, "I… I don't fit in here… you could do so much better than me… let me go…"
He ran his hands through his hair, exasperated, and then clenched his fists at his sides. "I promised myself I would never ask you this, Rose, but what the hell happened to you? How am I supposed to help you if you just keep… shutting me out? I'm… I'm not gonna judge you, and it's not gonna change the way I see you. It's your past Rose, and I… I wanna be your future… but I… it's gone on too long. I have to know."
Tears ran, shivering, off her face, and for a long moment she said nothing. He seemed to think over his outburst in his head, and looked at her meekly.
"I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."
"Why?" she whispered, in a tiny voice.
"What?"
"Why do you care?"
He took a deep breath, leaning forward on the bonnet of the car, sighing, and matching his eyes to hers, chocolate brown to violet blue.
"Because I love you." He said, and then repeated it louder. "I love you."
She shook her head for a moment, and then her eyes went cold. "I'm sorry, Emmett. We can't be together. Please let me go."
Stunned at her reaction, despite everything having expected some sort of answers, some sort of compromise after all that; he stepped away from the car.
"Don't go, Rose." He murmured, but even to him his voice sounded pathetic and listless. "We can sort this out. I love you."
There were tears building in his eyes, and they broke her heart more than she was already shattering it herself by leaving him. "I'm leaving, Emmett. I'm sorry."
"This is just a stupid fight." He said through gritted teeth, "Everyone fights. I'll see you tomorrow; we'll be ok, right?"
She shook her head, not even bothering to wipe the tears away. "I can't see you again, Emmett. I have to go."
She put the M3 into gear and drove away, leaving him standing there, in his huge paved driveway, crying properly for the first time in his life.
A/N: Sorry for the angst overload, but regardless, I'm rather proud of this chapter, and I have a feeling the next one's gonna be a biggie. ;) I have big plans for Emmett and Rosalie from here. Please review, let me know what you think. If you're especially nice, I might update again today, it being the weekend and all. :D
The Italian Job was good, again. I think I have a strange obsession with Charlie Croker's arms though. Kinda like Emmett's arms… :)
Thanks for your continued support and reviewing, guys
xx
