Shoefreak37 is lovely and I adore her.
The events in this chapter take place before the knock on the door.
Chapter 29: My Poor Heart Aches
James didn't bother with a suitcase. Instead, he stuffed his essentials into a small carry-on, reasoning that he could buy whatever he'd forgotten once he reached his destination. The flight to Seattle was long and he wished that he could sleep, but he was too anxious, too nervous to relax. He calmed a little when the plane finally touched down, hoping that the drive he had in front of him would be soothing.
He rented a small, non-descript sedan, wagering that people in the small town where he was headed didn't drive flashy convertibles or expensive imports. James imagined that Forks was a bit of a backwoods town, with men in old Jeeps and rusty pick-ups. He'd never been to this part of the country, but he was already dismayed by the rain and the gloom, the constant cover of green. He had barely arrived and he already missed the warm sunshine and bright, blue skies of home.
James didn't have a plan, didn't have any notion about what he would say to Bella when he found her. Would he even be able to find her? Though he had the resources to locate her, he'd never put them to use. He felt those actions would be too intrusive, something his mother and father would do. And even though he'd made mistakes—huge mistakes—he was still trying to keep himself from becoming like them.
Instead, he'd remembered the fond way Bella had spoken of her father, of summer visits to a rainy little town in Washington. She'd talked about days spent fishing in her father's tiny boat, of afternoons spent at the beach, and evenings spent around a bonfire, listening to legends of the local Quileute tribe. He remembered her stories about playing cops and robbers with her dad, about how he would flash his police siren and let her ride in the back, behind the partition; on the days when she was the good guy, she'd ride beside him in the front seat, talking to the dispatcher over his police radio while wearing his jacket and badge.
And so that was the place he knew he had to go.
After what seemed like many hours behind the wheel, James finally spotted the welcome sign, letting him know he'd reached his destination. Driving through the small town's streets, he tried to imagine Bella living there. With each landmark he passed, he envisioned Bella—Bella and his son. Did she spend time at the park? Maybe have a part-time job at Newton's Outfitters? Or eat her meals at Pacific Pizza?
The sex of the baby was the only thing James had learned throughout the process of signing his rights away, the only thing he'd wanted to know. He was sure the baby's name was on the paperwork somewhere, but he hadn't wanted that detail, assuming it would be too hard to let go of the baby—and Bella—if he knew the child's name. All he knew was that it was a boy, that he had a son out there somewhere.
The sun was quickly fading beneath the horizon, so James decided to wait until morning to begin his search. Pulling into the Pacific Inn Motel, he quickly grabbed his bag from the trunk and went inside to get a room. He paid with cash and gave a fake name, thankful that the clerk, a sweet old woman with frizzy gray hair, hadn't asked to see id. He smiled and made small talk, claiming that he was in the area to hike and surf. The old woman shoved some brochures into his hands about the area and wished him luck on his trip. Little did she know how much he would need it.
~ O ~
James spent most of the night awake, staring blankly at the walls, the ceiling. He'd turned the television on, but found the late night infomercials to be annoying rather than helping him relax into slumber. Finally, just before dawn, he'd fallen asleep, only to be awoken a few hours later by his cell phone alarm. After a quick shower, he grabbed a cup of coffee and a doughnut from the lobby, intent on beginning his search.
There wasn't much to the small town and he was sure he'd be able to locate Bella's father's house with ease. He drove around for most of the day, his eyes scanning his surroundings for the woman he sought. Every flash of brown hair caused him to pause, but none of them belonged to Bella. He stopped at the local Thriftway and grabbed some snacks, soda, and food that he could eat in his motel room—sandwich meat, bread, and a bunch of microwaveable meals that would probably taste horrible.
Though he wanted to see Bella, he wanted it to be on his terms. He didn't want to accidentally run into her somewhere in town, like at the gas station or the local diner. He wanted somewhere that she couldn't run away, where he could force her to listen to him. James had traveled a long way and he wanted the opportunity to talk to her—and to see his son.
As afternoon turned into evening, James found himself sitting in his car across the street from the police station. He was thankful that the windows in his rental were tinted, hoping that no one noticed him just waiting there. His patience was rewarded when a police officer finally exited the building and got into his car. James wasn't close enough to see his features, but the man looked old enough to be Bella's father and they had the same dark brown hair.
Following the man into the residential area of town, James made sure to keep some distance between him and the cruiser. He didn't want his arrival announced by being pulled over by Bella's father. If that happened, he doubted he'd even get the chance to speak with her. He resisted the urge to slow down as he passed the driveway where the police officer had parked, watching the man grab his things and exit his car. The white house looked much like the one Bella had described. James' eyes zeroed in on the tree in the front yard, the one Bella said had been outside her bedroom window, the one she broke her arm climbing when she was eight.
Circling back around, he parked just down the street, where he could still see that bedroom window near the tree. He wondered if Bella was inside; if he waited long enough, would he glimpse of her? James sat there for several hours, waiting patiently, but the lights in the bedroom never came on. He could see movement in the house—Bella's father and a woman, her shape illuminated by the windows, in contrast to the blackness all around. James could tell she was older, taller and more rounded than Bella had ever been. Disheartened, he started his car and headed back to the motel.
James began to wonder if he'd made a mistake, if Bella was even in this town. He knew she had no other family and with a baby to support, where else could she have gone? Of course, he also knew that his parents had given Renee money. Maybe she'd taken that and used it to start a new life. He could imagine Bella living in a little house somewhere near the beach. She was always smart, so she would be taking classes at a nearby college, maybe working a part-time job. James hoped that wherever she was, she was happy…but that didn't mean he would stop searching.
~ O ~
After another restless night and another day of fruitless searching, James was beginning to lose hope. His once rational thoughts were becoming overwhelmed by insane ideas and foolish plans. He grew bolder in his hunt, stopping at the local gas station and loitering in Newton's Outfitters. He bought lunch at Pacific Pizza and sat in the park for hours, on a bench beneath the shade of an old oak tree. Watching the children playing around him, laughing and yelling, he thought about his own son.
James didn't even know what Bella had named the baby. Did she name him after her father? Or a character from one of her favorite novels? That thought brought a smile to his face as he hoped there wasn't a little Heathcliff running around, destined to be the target of school bullies once he was older. Would their son be walking now? Talking? Did he have James' blue eyes? Bella's brown hair?
Anger and guilt consumed James as he sat there, his head in his hands. He'd been so young and naïve, not truly understanding what he was giving up when he'd followed his parent's wishes and signed his rights to the baby away. He thought he was doing the right thing, making the best choice, but now he wasn't so sure. That last night he'd seen Bella—the night he found out she was pregnant—she'd looked so broken, alone and scared. He was the one that had done that to her, that had put that look on her face.
James would never forget when she'd finally looked at him. There were tears streaming down her cheeks, her face puffy and red. He could see the terror in her eyes, the silent plea for him to stay with her, to help her find her way through the mess. But he hadn't done that. Instead, like the coward that he was, he'd turned away and left her there with his parents and her mother.
His mother had assured him that they'd given her money, that they would see that she had what she needed until the baby was born. James knew not to trust his mother, but in that moment, he felt like a child. He didn't know what to do, how to proceed, so he'd taken comfort in her words, sure that even if he couldn't be in his child's life, it would be provided for. But now the guilt and regret of those actions threatened to consume him. He had to find Bella.
James jumped into his car and drove, pulling into the parking lot of Rosie's diner. It seemed to be the busiest place in town, where the most people were congregated. He foolishly imagined sitting down at a table, ordering his dinner, and then casually mentioning to the waitress that he was there to see Bella Swan. Maybe he'd say that they were friends from when she lived in Florida with her mother, that he was in the area camping and thought he'd look her up. That wasn't completely a lie. James imagined the waitress smiling at him and then telling him exactly where Bella lived. People in small towns weren't known for being suspicious.
With his mind made up, he took one last look inside the diner—and every plan he'd made turned to dust. Standing next to one of the tables by the window was Bella, wearing a waitress uniform and taking a customer's order. James couldn't pull his eyes away. He watched her as she smiled at customers, laughing at whatever some old man near the counter had said to her. She was more beautiful than he remembered, less timid and more at ease with herself.
He sat there for hours, just watching, completely oblivious to everything around him. When twilight descended, he watching her untie her apron and pull off her hat, shrugging on a jacket and letting her hair fall from the bun she'd had it secured in. Long locks of tousled brown hair whipped in the wind as she jogged to her car, trying to escape the approaching storm.
When she drove away, he followed, trailing her back to the house he'd been sure was her father's. He parked across the street and waited, noticing that she'd left her car running. Bella emerged from the house minutes later, carrying a suspicious looking bump on her hip, the tiny person shielded from the misty rain by a large blanket. His son was there, so close to him and yet so far away. Knowing this might be his only chance, James placed his hand on the door, but he couldn't find the courage to open it.
Fear paralyzed him. The thing he wanted most was standing there right in front of him and he couldn't move. He continued to sit there as he watched her drive away, until the taillights of her car were no longer visible as she sped down the rain-soaked street.
~ O ~
The next day he parked outside of Bella's father's house bright and early, promising himself that he wouldn't miss another chance to confront her. He sat there for a couple of hours, but her car never pulled in. He was thankful that the police cruiser was gone when he pulled in, not wanting to draw suspicion. James was sure a police officer would notice the same car repeatedly parked outside of his house, a strange car with rental tags.
He sat there until a woman exited the house—probably the one he'd seen through the window. She too climbed into her car and drove away. James had to sudden urge to snoop, wondering how much time he'd have before someone returned. The house was at the end of the street, with tall shrubbery and trees around. He was sure no one would see him.
Without giving himself time to chicken out, he jumped out of his car and approached the front door. He stood there for a moment and feigned a knock, his eyes darting to see if there was anyone else around. Quickly, he slipped around the side of the house and peered into the windows, the open curtains making it easy to see inside.
The house was small and neat, with a homey, lived-in feel. The kitchen was yellow and sunny, with drying dishes stacked in the drainer and a freshly-baked cake sitting on the table. There were pictures on the refrigerator, held there by brightly-colored magnets, but he couldn't get a good look at them from his vantage point.
Moving around to the other side of the house, he stopped outside of a tiny window, his hand immediately pressing against the glass. A crib was pushed against the wall, blocks and toys haphazardly strewn across a play mat on the floor. And there, on the wall, in wooden block letters was a name: Benjamin. He rolled the name around in his head, wondering what the little boy that the name belonged to looked like. All James could imagine was a miniature version of himself—a skinny baby with white blonde hair and bright, blue eyes. Or maybe he had dark hair and eyes like his mother. James wished he could have gotten a better look at the pictures through the kitchen window.
~ O ~
After standing at that window for far too long, trying to soak in every detail, James finally retreated back to his car, speeding towards the diner. Just like the day before, he sat in his car and watched. His shock had abated a bit and he was able to pay more attention to Bella, to take in the finer details.
Bella looked older, with the fullness gone from her cheeks. She was still slim, but he could see that her hips were wider, that she'd grown into her figure. The most glaring difference was that her shy, shrinking girl he'd once known was nowhere to be found. Bella looked calm and sure, walking with her head up and her shoulders square. When they were together, she was always slumping and staring at her shoes, as if she wished the sidewalk would open up and swallow her whole.
James bristled when a car that looked a lot the one he'd seen Bella driving pulled in beside of his. He slumped in his seat and pretended to dial on his cell phone as he watched the man from the corner of his eye. The man got out of the car and then moved to the back seat. James held his breath as the man emerged, holding a chubby little boy with brown hair and eyes in his arms. Benjamin. He didn't need confirmation from anyone to know he was that baby's father.
Moving to look back inside the diner window, he couldn't miss the huge smile on Bella's face, the way her entire demeanor seemed to brighten. He watched as she approached the man—her boyfriend?—and his son. James couldn't tear his eyes away as he watched Bella kiss Benjamin's cheeks and tickle his belly. But when she confidently pushed up on her toes to kiss the man on the lips, James felt like he'd been punched in the stomach.
In all of his fantasies involving his reunion with Bella, he'd never even stopped to consider that there might be someone else, that she might have moved on. He'd been too blinded by his idea of a perfect little family, of Bella's forgiveness, of her accepting him with open arms. Watching her with this man, however, it was clear that he meant something to her, that their relationship was solid. After all, she'd entrusted him with the care of her son, and the smile she'd given him, the ease with which she moved around him, made it apparent that she was in love.
Though he knew he had no right to be angry—he'd been the one to give her away—James still felt the pangs of jealousy deep within his gut. It no longer felt like just a punch, but as if he'd been stabbed and now the culprit was twisting the knife. Even worse than watching the way Bella and the man interacted was watching the way the man interacted with Benjamin.
James watched as Bella continued to work, pouring coffee and delivering plates of food. The man settled into a booth by the window, placing the baby in a high chair. James looked on with rapt attention as the man fed Benjamin a small dish of food, patiently wiping his face between bites. He moved the spoon around like an airplane, smiling as the baby laughed and clapped his hands.
That should have been me, James thought. He should have been the one that Bella greeted with a kiss and a smile, the one that should have been caring for their son. If they were together, she wouldn't have had to work at this grubby diner at all. James had money. They could have gone to college together, hired a nanny to take care of the baby while they were in class. This wasn't the life Bella was meant to have, slaving for tips in some dingy, backwater town.
Gravel sprayed beneath the tires as James pulled out of the diner's lot. He drove around the city streets, circling, trying to make sense of all of the new information he'd just been given. His hands gripped the steering wheel painfully, his knuckles white from the strain. He was angry at himself, unjustifiably angry at Bella and her boyfriend, but he hated his mother in that moment, more than he'd ever imagined possible.
James tried to bottle up the annoyance and frustration that seemed to practically be oozing from his pores, causing him to vibrate in his seat. Tears pricked his eyes and he swatted at them angrily, embarrassed and ashamed of his uncontrollable emotions. Pulling into his motel, he ran from his car, his fingers shaking as he tried to unlock the door. It took several tries before he finally wrenched it open, kicking off in shoes in a rage and flinging himself onto the bed.
The cheap, lumpy pillow on his bed made an excellent punching bag and he wound his fist back over and over. Sweat mingled with the tears he no longer tried to stop and he continued to assault the pillow until exhaustion overtook him. His chest heaved as his ragged breaths filled the air. James started at the ceiling, and just like Bella used to do, he wished the floor would open up and end his misery.
~ O ~
He didn't leave the room for two days. He didn't even leave the bed. At some point he'd stripped down to his boxers, but he didn't bother with dressing or taking a shower or even eating. The hunger pains in his stomach were a welcome distraction from the painful wound in his chest.
The images of Bella, Benjamin, and that man were burned into his brain. They looked like a happy little family, like they were meant to go together. To an outsider, that man looked and acted just like a father; no one would suspect that Benjamin belonged to someone else. Those thoughts gutted James because he finally realized the repercussions of what he'd done: Benjamin didn't belong to him either.
He struggled with his urges, the back and forth between staying and running away. Part of him wanted to jump in his car and drive back to Seattle, to get on a plane for home and try to wash the dreary town from his mind. But there still part of him that wanted his chance—to talk, to explain, to ask for forgiveness.
With weary eyes and a weary heart, he was finally able to extricate himself from his motel room on the third day. Once again, he found himself at the diner, watching Bella through the window. But this time, when her car pulled away and drove down the highway, James followed her. She wasn't in her car this time, instead driving a vintage truck, one that James was sure belonged to her boyfriend.
Following her away from Forks and into a neighboring town, James was sure to keep his distance when she pulled into the driveway of a little red house. He watched as she grabbed a bag from the seat and stumbled her way into the house. James parked his car across the street and kept his eyes glued to the windows, but there were trees and shrubbery close the house and the curtains were drawn; he couldn't see what was going on inside.
Shortly after the sun had set and darkness began to descend, James had made up his mind. Moving calmly and with determination in his step, he ascended the steps and walked up to the door, knocking loudly on the pristine, white wood. He stood there patiently, fighting the urge to fidget, just waiting. And when the door finally swung open, Bella stood before him, her eyes wide and her skin ashen.
A/N: The next chapter will post in a few days. I'm not going to leave you guys hanging for a whole week. :)
