Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Stephenie Meyer created it all.
As always, my thanks to Sherryola and Twiloversue for pre-reading and betaing this. Further thanks go out to Mahitabelle for all the info on post-op Vitrectomy patients! Dee for pre-reading for me and assuring me that it was all okay (snicker)! Cejsmom for giving me a myriad of images involving Edward and some water (double snicker)! Monique for also giving me some hints as to where to be a little more explicit…sigh.
I apologize for posting this a day early, but I have had a death in the family, and it is more than likely that I'll be away tomorrow. Hope you enjoy!
Just a quickie…
Two of my stories have been nominated over at the Shimmer Awards – Best Quickie Award (best one-shot) Modus Operandi, my entry into the New Moon round at The Canon Tour (it is my version of James' story), and Forever, an entry for the Fandom Fights the Floods (it is an all human story with a theme that is near and dear to my heart). Unfortunately, they are up against each other and another author I consider a friend…Sigh. Please go over and read the stories up for vote on the Shimmers – there are some great ones.
http:/shimmerawards(dot)blogspot(dot)com/
Edward POV
The word tired didn't even begin to describe how I felt as the hot water poured over me. It was my fault for taking on so many hours at the hospital, but work was my salvation right now. It had been just a few days since I'd returned home to find my brother waiting for me;, since he'd scanned my face carefully before breathing out a sigh of relief. That Bella had been with Demetri for the weekend was excruciatingly painful and at the same time just rewards, I would say, for what she must have felt hearing about me from the papers. But honestly, I didn't even know if hearing about me affected her or not.
I was beginning to acknowledge the possibility that Bella didn't love me anymore, would never be able to love me again. It was tearing me apart from the inside, but I had to at least face what seemed so apparent. I wouldn't know for sure until and if she allowed me time to speak with her.
So, I'd focused myself on work, exercising, and meditating. It was the concoction that had gotten me through so far, and since I refused to follow the semi-numbing pathway of liaisons again, I was putting my entire focus into the process. I needed to schedule the next appointment with Elizabeth. In the year since I'd begun to see her, I've never missed a week…this being the first. Her secretary's voice on my answering service had been a subtle hint that she wasn't going to allow me to step away, when we'd just gotten to the "good stuff" as she'd teased.
When I stretched underneath the spray of hot water, my bones cracked, reminding me that I needed some rest, and it would seem that I would have plenty of time. It was to be another quiet weekend, Carlie having canceled on me again, this time not for a giggling bunch of teenagers, but for something she and Bella had planned. I would have to wait until next weekend to see her at the Piano Festival and Competition. Carlie was nervous, and the entire family intended to be there in support of her. I wondered if Demetri would be in attendance with Bella.
Bella…
My heart lurched, and I had to actually put my hand to the wall to steady myself. It was painful, the tightening of the muscle that forced me to live. It hadn't always been so convinced of securing our longevity, and it was that which worried Emmett the most…the reason he'd wanted to lay eyes on me the night I returned from New York.
"Bubba, you have to be careful! I don't care what the specialist told you; I'm just not convinced that your heart ever recovered."
Em calling me Bubba always did me in. It'd been his nickname for me when I followed him around, just a gap-toothed boy tagging along with his older brother…who he worshipped.
"Emmett, I see a heart specialist every year, eat fish and chicken to the point I'm surprised I don't cluck or have gills, and work out almost every day. I can't tell you the last time I had something to drink. The doctor says that I'm as healthy as a horse."
He wasn't convinced, and I allowed him his worry. Emmett had the right to his concerns, having been the one to find me all but dead, the cocaine induced heart attack seeping the life out of me. Neither of us had ever been able to understand his pervasive need to find me, but if he hadn't, I wouldn't be here at this moment. I was certain that there were some that would say that it wouldn't have bothered them in the least. But it did Emmett, because he loved me, and it had been his breath and quick CPR skills that had given me back life. I'd woken to find my parents crying, Emmett a lifeless statue as he watched over me, and Alice looking as traumatized as the day I'd found her on the floor. And although most addicts were so trapped in the cycle that their families were of no concern, God had granted me, in that moment, the grace to realize what I was doing to them and me. It was my bottom, and I'd been clean from that day. It didn't mean I wasn't still a fuck up, because I was…but at least I was a clean fuck up.
A clean fuck up with a damaged heart…in more ways than one.
I'd been given so much in life…a family who cared, who kept everything as quiet as possible allowing me to have a future, a brain that at least somehow continued working so that I kept good enough grades to get in to medical school while I was at the same time attempting to destroy myself. Carlie…
I would find a way to go on if Bella refused me. I would stay in the background of her life while I built my relationship with Carlie, and I would make sure that nothing ever hurt them or that they never wanted for anything. Their happiness meant far more than my own. The hope that possibly everything hadn't been destroyed and that I would have a chance burned in me, but just beside it another fire had begun to flare…the one of defeat.
You're getting too morose Edward. Go to bed and quit being so melodramatic. The good angel was back.
I snickered at the voice inside me. At least it was better than the auditory hallucinations I'd had when I was doing coke. I'd almost gone crazy when I'd believed I was hearing other people's thoughts.
Shutting off the water, I toweled off before moving to my room to throw on some pajama pants. It would help me sleep better if I meditated first, but I'd no more than gotten into position before the phone rang. It was the ring tone for the desk below, or I would have ignored it.
"Mr. Cullen, Ms. Swan is on her way up," the new security guy indicated.
I wondered why Carlie had even bothered with him, she had a pass key, but then I realized it didn't really matter. Energy strummed through me at the unexpected pleasure of seeing her, even though I knew she would most likely request me to bare my soul…and I dreaded it. I would at least beg her for a few hours sleep so that I could tackle the unpleasant task with some degree of clear headedness.
"Thank you," I informed him, before going in search of a t-shirt.
Racing into the living room, I snatched up the scrubs I'd thrown to the floor and scurried to throw them in the laundry, taking one more look around the house. I was fairly anal about cleaning, so it stayed orderly, but I wasn't beyond being a mini slob when I came home from an evening shift.
The sound of the doorbell captured my attention, and I shook my head at why Carlie didn't just use the key. She must have left it at home, which would explain why she'd stopped by the desk. Grinning at her uncharacteristic forgetfulness, I dashed to the door with enthusiasm, dying to see her.
Pulling the door open with flourish and a grin on my face, my world stopped. Her name was a strangled, adoring whisper. "Bella!"
Bella POV
We'd returned home Friday afternoon, for Jake and Leah to basically dog my every footstep the rest of the day and the next. I was exhausted, having been warned by Carlisle that I could remain that way for weeks. The eye shields I had to wear to bed were uncomfortable making sleep near impossible, but they were necessary until the stitches dissolved. The easiest part was the eye drops and cleaning; the worst, being told I couldn't read and had to limit the time I stared at the treasures around me.
"Okay Bella, enough looking at pictures, you need to rest and put your head between your knees like the Docs said. Okay Bella, enough looking at the home movies…they'll still be there, you have to make sure your eyes are given time to heal. Okay Bella, blah, blah, blah…."
I'd been ready to strangle them before the first day was done. I'd rested, just like I'd been told, I'd put in the cleaning solution just as Felix had shown me, I'd remained with my head between my knees until my back ached, but they just couldn't understand how miraculous it had been to actually see the events I'd lived in darkness. The last day and a half had been a wash of pleasure after pleasure, as I gazed upon the pictures of Carlie, Seth, and Samantha's growing faces. Birthday parties we'd thrown together, Carlie's first piano recital, Seth's first midget league football game…a glowing, younger Jacob by his side. Treasure hunters could search out all the buried gold and jewels they wanted…this was my fortune…year after year of love and happiness.
I'd forced them to go and get us dinner and used the quiet to investigate my house, looking at the displayed pictures again, the things Leah had help choose to make the space inviting, and my room and bookshelves with the urn that contained Charlie's ashes. It was all too familiar, but seeing the bright colors that had been described to me made it more "home."
Knowing that it was going to be an explosion, a visual masterpiece with the awards, certificates, and trophies she'd won, I'd decided to put off Carlie's room until last. The plethora of bright colors when I opened the door proved my assumption right. Grinning at the immaculately clean floor, I made my way in and stood to take it all in. I could stand here forever I realized, just soaking up the positive feelings that emanated from the room. Pictures of she and Seth, our family, her friends, and the Quileute dominated the corkboards she'd placed around the room. She certainly believed in surrounding herself in memories. But turning to leave, the ones that were placed on her side table halted my progress.
The need to flee warred with the desire to approach. The latter won out. Lowering myself onto the bed, I breathed deeply before reaching out with an unsteady hand to pull the first picture to me. My heart clenched seeing his head lying in my lap as we both gazed in wonder at the other. We were in the meadow where we'd picnicked with his family. I'd been feeding him grapes, and he'd been totally uncomfortable with my doing so, saying that he should be waiting on me.
"I'm your slave, Bella, not the other way around."
It had been just days later that everything changed. I'd never seen the picture, and the memories it invoked were bittersweet. My memory had kept him in perfect recall during the dark years, and it made me dizzy…a flush feeling flaring across my skin making my mouth go dry, my heart pound, and my fingers tingle. My hands shook so hard that I was afraid I'd drop the picture. I could remember his smell, the unique scent that always seemed to make me want him so much more. The taste of him when we'd kiss, the feel of his hair running through my fingers.
He'd been my everything…
If the first one had made me dizzy, the next one made my breath catch. It was a close up of him and Carlie, mostly their faces. They were both asleep, peaceful in their slumber. It appeared that they were on a longue, and Carlie was in her bathing suit. Unable to stop myself, I held the picture even closer…mesmerized by him. The boy I knew had turned into an exquisite man and the treacherous thing that my heart was…it throbbed, squeezed, and ached. In the privacy of my daughter's room with no one else around to see me do it, I placed my fingertip to his face and traced his eyebrows, cheekbones, and then lips as I'd once done to him. Just touching a simple picture seemed to make my skin burn. Trying hard not to sob, I wheezed until I could breathe again.
Time had been good to him.
Forcing myself to place the picture back, I picked up the last one, skipping over the portrait of her and me together…I'd already cried over that one. It was his family, a stick thin, long-haired Alice with a drop dead gorgeous man that could only be Jasper, Emmett…looking like he had as a teenager, just bigger…with a Princess Rosalie at his side. Then Carlisle and Esme…her looking like she hadn't aged a day, still the starlet, and Anthony…holding two girls, one on each hip. Emmy and Jasmine, I would guess from hearing their names. Ross and Alistair stood together just in front of him as if they were planning some mischief. The picture had been done in a garden.
It was the first glimpse I had of him awake and something was off. Scanning him intently, I couldn't put my finger on it, but something about his face seemed different…wrong. Hearing my family returning, I realized my time was up in figuring it out. Placing the picture back in its spot, I hurried to the couch to "assume the position" so that Jake wouldn't gripe.
It was probably a good thing because I was absolutely lightheaded from what I'd seen.
"Not fooling me at all," Jake grumbled when he walked in the room, and he almost stopped when I didn't immediately react.
It was difficult to force anything out, so I sarcastically replied, "HA! HA!"
After dinner, I made Jake pull out the pictures Aro had given us. Leah wrapped me in her arms as I looked at the damning evidence. When I gazed at her in agony, she'd solemnly nodded her head and squeezed me a little harder.
It was bad, really bad.
That night, haunted by the images of the pictures, Aro's words about the Cullens running through my mind, and uncomfortable because of the damn shield, I found it difficult to fall asleep. The images that formed in my now partially healed eyes were horrific…of what they'd gone through, what they'd seen, and what had happened with me as a result.
I hadn't been happy when I realized that Carlisle had left me at the hospital, and I'd let him know it when he called that evening to check on me.
"Bella, you and your family were celebrating; you didn't need my presence any longer. I would like to see you on Monday though. I need to check your progress; I can either come to your home, or you can come to the hospital?"
His voice had been so reassuring, so humble, that I knew that in his mind he hadn't abandoned me, which had been my initial reaction. In his assessment, he'd left me with my family, who I had made it quite clear that I preferred. It was so freaking respectful that the damning reaction and response I had prepared died on my lips. Wasn't he giving me exactly what I'd asked for…time and space?
After making the arrangements with a very pleased Carlisle, I realized I needed to go see Anthony. I needed to get this done; so that we could all heal, knowing I was the one holding it up. It was my decision as to when, where, or if we could begin, and a sense of peace surrounded me when I made it.
And so the next morning, I stole away from the house early while everyone else was still asleep, knowing that I would absolutely scream if Jacob hovered over me another minute. To think he'd allow me to go see Anthony without a fight…yeah…I knew that wasn't going to happen.
Having called a taxi, I sat back and enjoyed the flashes that ran past the window for a few minutes before closing my eyes. Even with the bulky protective glasses I was forced to wear to shield my eyes, I could clearly see anything within a twenty or so foot radius, but after that, I was lost, the images blurring. In addition, I was having major headaches, which was an expected, but undesirable side effect of the surgery. Carlisle had told me that it might take up to a week for them to go away. So knowing that Jacob was going to gripe at me when I returned home, I at least decided to utilize the trip into town to rest.
Carlie had spoken about Anthony's new place in the swanky hotel downtown, so I wasn't surprised when I finally felt us slowing to open my eyes and see the fancy façade. Thanking the driver after paying him, I stretched out, exchanged the protective wear for prescription sunglasses that Carlisle had instead upon, and brought my cane before me. It was comforting and useful all at the same time, considering that I was still very distracted by the world around me. The automatic process of scanning for anything in front of me was a habit well utilized…keeping me vertical instead of horizontal.
It was my first adventure into the real world after the operation, and I was glad I hadn't brought anyone along. I didn't want to have to explain my reactions when I saw the stares leveled my way, saw the individuals who were downright nosy, or the ones who graciously made sure to give me a wide berth. It was intriguing to see how people reacted when they didn't know you could see them. It was like a window into their soul, or as if they'd been taken back to when they were a child and they hadn't learned that people play games and to keep your cards held close to your chest.
The man that called Anthony on the phone was too curious, his eyes a little too free, but he was polite while leading me to the private elevator before wishing me a good day. I should have expected the ride up to make my nerves sing, but I wasn't quite clear that there was a word to define how I felt. There were only two individuals who lived on the level I'd been directed to, so finding the door was easy. Raising my hand to ring the doorbell was infinitely harder, no matter the hours of self-talk I'd engaged in to get ready during the early morning.
The door swung open, and then it felt like I'd been hit by a truck…the assault on my senses overwhelming me. The sight, smell, and reality of him before me were devastating, and I froze like a deer in the headlights. If the pictures of him in Carlie's room hadn't prepared me, I would have fainted.
"Bella!" he said, but it came out as a seductive, gravelly whisper.
His hands shot to his hair as if to straighten the chaotic mess. It looked like he'd just gotten out of the shower and barely run his fingers through it. It was long…not so much as when we'd been teenagers, but longer than the short, buzzed cuts most men wore, long enough to still wrap your fingers in it. The coppery color was still as vibrant now as it had been then. He went to smooth down his t-shirt self-consciously and then stopped, his amazingly green eyes becoming sad.
I realized in that moment that Carlisle and Esme hadn't told him. They'd respected my wishes, and Anthony still believed me to be blind.
As a devious plan instantly formed in my brain, my eyes remained glued to his. Forest green, dapples of gold, framed by impossibly long lashes, they were as mesmerizing as they'd been when I first met him. I couldn't find a single wrinkle around them, but I wondered if when he smiled if they wouldn't crinkle slightly at the corners in a seductive way.
He'd gained some weight, but I was hazarding a guess that most of it was muscle. He was no longer the slender young boy that filled my dreams, but a man grown…the years of time refining him, making him incredibly, more beautiful. Whereas Emmett reminded me of a football player, Anthony had the lean muscles of a soccer or baseball player. I had to force my eyes away from his hands; the image of his long fingers bringing back too many memories of the things he'd done to me with them, the brush of the slight callouses over my skin.
Before I could finish my perusal, he spoke. "Bella…I…" His hands shot to his hair again, and he tugged at it in agitation. Then, his eyes shot to my face as if he was trying to see behind my glasses. I could visually see him take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. "Please come in, I wasn't expecting you. When security called, I thought Carlie…" He broke off and moved from in front of me.
I was still dumfounded as I realized he was in pajama pants and a t-shirt. Carlie had mentioned that he worked the night shift, and it was evident that he'd just gotten home and was most likely about to go to sleep. My mind continued along the rational path, but my body was stuck on the reality that he was before me…in his sleeping clothes…most likely na…
DON'T GO THERE! The snarky bitch threw out.
He cleared his throat several times nervously as I remained in the doorway, and unknowing that I watched him like a hawk, he allowed his emotions to show.
Nervousness, sadness, desire, and …. NO, IT COULDN'T BE! Obviously my vision was still a little screwy.
"Bella?" he finally said, and the sound of my name on his lips at least caused me to move.
He flitted beside me, reaching back to shut the door before stepping to my side. "My living room is directly ahead, the couch at about one o'clock, twenty or so feet in."
His description was perfect, and as I silently stepped into the room, the outer edges came into focus. The city obviously lay outside the large panes of glass, but it was a blur of larger and smaller structures to me. The room was amazing…the warm walls contrasting well with the wood floors and light colored furniture. A black grand piano sat in the corner, and it made me feel better to see it. Certainly he wouldn't have it here if he didn't play. It set my mind at rest about his niece's statement…obviously I'd just misunderstood.
I could tell that he wanted to lead me to the couch, his hand shooting out every so often, to be forcibly withdrawn and accompanied by a scowl. When my cane hit the side table, I put my hand out and walked around to where I could sit. The entire time, Anthony watched me, assessing my safety, his eyes wandering over me in an…adoring?…manner. He clenched his hands in front of him, like he was having to restrain himself from touching me, but remained standing.
"Would you like some water, juice, anything…" His voice sounded harsh as if he needed to drink something.
My throat was dry as well, and I had to work to get anything out. "Water would be nice."
He moved away across the large living room toward the industrial looking kitchen. I couldn't help but admire it and wondered why he would have such a large, well-stocked area. We'd spent many hours in Charlie's small kitchen and then Esme's masterpiece together, as I taught him to cook. But before us, he hadn't had any interest…as was normal for a teenage boy. When he opened the refrigerator, I could make out that it was fully stocked, seeing a ton of what appeared to be leafy green vegetables and fruit.
My attention was then recaptured by the man bending over, the sliver of his back that the raised shirt revealed drawing my eyes like a beacon. It was my hands that clenched then.
What had I been thinking coming here? I was a mess; seeing him a jolt to my system. Electricity raced across my skin as I realized I was in his home…alone with him. As I'd observed, he was no longer the boy that made my heart and body sing. He was a man; an impossibly beautiful and alluring specimen. My heart was doing much more than singing…thumping wildly against the cage of my chest. My body was traitorous, aching for a touch that wouldn't come.
I started to panic, but took a deep breath fighting to focus.
Thank God he didn't know I was looking at him. Turning with two bottles of water in his hands, he glanced over at me and remained frozen for a moment. I wondered what he was thinking…that perhaps this was to be an awkward conversation, most likely. He'd long since broken the ties with me, and to have them forcibly thrust into his life by our daughter must have been an interesting turn of events for him. But, he'd said he wanted to talk, to say he was sorry, so we'd get through this and come to an understanding of how we'd make this work.
Taking a deep breath, that made me focus on the breadth of his chest, Anthony moved toward me and sat the water on the sofa table beside me, taking the time to open the cap, an old habit of his with me, before he moved to sit on an ottoman directly in front of me. I was surprised at his choice, curious as to why he would want to be in such close proximity to me. But, I was grateful; it gave me the ability to watch his face intently without his knowledge.
Little was I to know that I'd regret it soon.
"Bella, I need to know if you are here to talk, or if there is another reason for your visit?" he asked quickly, after taking a large drink of water. I watched as the muscles in his throat flexed, fascinated by the play of his slightly tanned skin. It seemed that he waited in anticipation for my answer, and I saw something that reminded me of the boy he'd once been…eagerness…as if he cared what I said.
"I came to speak with you, but if this is a bad time?"
"NO!" he sputtered out, half standing as if to block my escape. He realized what he'd done and shook his head as if he was inpatient with himself, sitting down softly. If I hadn't been able to see him, I'd have never known it happened.
Another sip of water… I noticed that his hands were shaking.
"No, please stay. I just didn't know the purpose of your visit." He chuckled in a nervous manner. "I thought you were Carlie. She cancelled on me saying that you had some big plans this weekend."
Pain skewed across his face, and I wanted to know why, but I wasn't about to give up my advantage to ask. He'd turned toward the window for a moment as if he was attempting to compose himself. Heat blazed from the green of his eyes when he turned back.
"It's early. Are you hungry? I can fix you an omelet or…"
"Thank you, but I'm fine," I interrupted, knowing I'd puke if I ate now. He was nervous…as much as I was.
He nodded, as if he was talking to himself, agreeing with whatever internal conversation was occurring. "Thank you," he murmured.
"For?"
"Coming…I can't tell you what it means to me." His hands twisted around the water bottle in agitation. "Bella, if you would allow me, I would like to tell you about what happened, of how I screwed up."
He was going straight to the heart of the matter, his eagerness showing in his haste. I'd thought to stay quiet and allow him to tell me it all, but really, I didn't have it in me to hear the horror story again.
"Anthony…" he jerked at the name. Pain so raw that it was emotionally overloading flickered across his face. He started to speak, but I stopped him with my next words. "Aro has already filled me in on most of it, of what happened to Alice and your family afterwards. Jake and Leah saw the photos and described them to me." That wasn't a total lie.
"What!" he gasped, his hands in his hair again.
"He…retrieved a copy." That was about as good an explanation as I could give. "I know what happened to you afterward, and that you didn't know about Charlie or Carlie. The past is the past, and we don't have to relive it. Let us move on from here and decide what to do about our child, because isn't that what this is all about…building a future for Carlie."
His eyes widened before he put his hands to his head, lowering as if he was going to be the one to put his head between his knees.
"Bella, no…that isn't what this is all about, although us getting along for Carlie's sake is something I hope we can do." He sat back up and looked at me so intensely that for a second, I thought he might be on to me. Then, I saw him take a deep breath as if he was preparing for something important, before he seemed to settle. He surveyed my face, and I could see that he wanted the dark glasses gone, but I wasn't about to offer. "I'm most grateful that Aro shared the information with you. If he hadn't of done me the favor of telling you, then I would be spending an inordinate amount of time explaining it, which would only sound like a bunch of excuses. I really just want to beg your forgiveness for what I did to us. There just isn't the correct word for how I feel, or the correct words to say all this to you."
He moved a few inches closer.
"I was wrong. No, I was so much more than wrong…I was sanctimonious and cruel. I can't just say that I am sorry, because that would be an ironic joke to think that you would forgive me after everything, but I can tell you that no one knows better than me how unworthy I am. I spent the first few years after leaving you trying to burn everything good out of me, to forget your touch, to forget the look in your face as you smiled at me, to forget that we'd ever existed. I did it because to remember was agony. If I'd just had one ounce of the strength you had, I would have come to you when you called and allowed you to explain. We could have raised our daughter together and had a wonderful life. But no, instead I had to tarnish everything that was pure and simple and good about us. I desecrated everything…everything, and all because I was too weak to just believe…"
"Anthony…"
"PLEASE…" he interrupted and seeing me jump at the volume he'd shouted out, he calmed. "Please don't call…" This time his hand rubbed above his heart, as if it pained him.
Don't call what? I wanted to shout and almost did, but he kept me from it when he started talking again.
"What happened to me, happened. There is nothing from my past that justifies how I treated you. There is no excuse for it, and I won't render one today or any other day. All I can do is plead with you to listen to me, to hear my sorrow for what I did. It is true sorrow, Bella…for how I tore you down in front of the other students, for not having taken your phone calls, for not being with you when Charlie died, for not sharing everything…"
Unable to even think clearly…the agony in his voice rolling over me in waves, I froze. Anthony looked tired now, and I saw the look I'd seen in the picture of him with his family. I knew what it was; it was the look of utter despair and defeat. He was successful, young, and apparently well desired…what did he have to be sad for?
"Touching Tanya Denali was a mistake, only eclipsed by believing her in the first place." He was holding his hands out in front of him, looking at them as if they were a puzzle he couldn't comprehend, disdain written across his cheekbones. "I would wipe the mistakes from the past if I could…" he jerked his head up to look at me "…but I can't."
He actually dribbled some water down his chin when he went to drink; his hands were shaking so badly. I watched mesmerized as the water followed a course across his defined jawline before he brushed it away. The inner bitch wanted to slap him for even bringing that woman up in front of me, but the vision of my face cradled to Jacob's chest, albeit innocently, mocked me. Was I really so catty to believe I wouldn't have pitched a fit if I'd seen a similar picture of Edward with another. Of course, I believed I would at least have let him explain.
"It took me several years to clean up, but when I did, I couldn't hide from the cold, gnawing feeling inside me. I knew that you were innocent long before Tanya's little revelation…" I gasped wondering just why he hadn't come to me then "…but I wouldn't let myself think about it. Just because I was free from the crap I took in my attempts to forget you, didn't mean I was ready to face you."
"What do you mean?" I hoarsely asked.
He faced me fully again. "I can barely hold myself together to speak with you now. Can you imagine what it would have been like then, when I couldn't even stand without shaking?"
I wanted to point out that he was shaking now, spilling water everywhere, but I knew what he meant, and I still didn't want to lose my advantage. A realization of just how low I was sinking…hiding my sight from him so that I can see him without masks…hit me. Even as much as my father had hated this man before his death, Charlie wouldn't have been proud of the way I was acting. He was all about straight and simple…getting to the matter at hand and not playing games.
"When Tanya finally fessed up, I knew my time was at hand." He stopped and his eyes went to his hands again.
"Aro indicated that you hired a Private Investigator."
"Yes."
Silence settled for a few moments, and I wondered if I might have to prompt him. Just when I was about to cave, he murmured, "Bella, I need to get something, okay? I'll be right back."
He stood, and I watched him walk away, disappearing down the hallway to our left. It took everything within me not to chase after him…panic setting in when I couldn't see him any longer. The electricity between us seemed to convert to a magnetic pull, as if I was supposed to follow him, not remain apart from him. When he came back just seconds later, I saw that he had a book in his hands. It was worn and tattered, as if it had been well loved and read a million times. The binding had even been taped together from what I could see. Long, lean legs walked in front of me and a dozen memories of tracing my fingers down them overwhelmed me before he sat down, pulling the ottoman even closer. Our knees were but inches apart, and it was as if I could hear the crackle of electricity between us.
His hand moved softly over the cover, obliterating my view of it, before he began again. "The family wanted to track you down, in order to make amends. With Tanya's admission, I couldn't hide anymore. Gone was any barrier, and I just couldn't hold back. I believed, and it was my greatest hope, that you'd found the love you deserve…but I knew you also deserved for me to tell you how wrong I was." He cleared his throat. "The relief when I paid the private investigator was immense…it was like I could breathe for the first time."
"Why did you call the PI off?"
His eyes snapped forward, and he looked sick. "Can I ask you a question, Bella?"
I shrugged, the tortured look on his face making me want to pamper him.
"Has there been anything positive come out of me returning into your life?"
"Carlie is ecstatic. She is absolutely in love with you and your family. How can you question that?" Couldn't he see how much they meant to her already?
He shook his head in agitation. "No you, Bella. Has there been anything positive that came out of me coming back into your life? Anything at all?"
I couldn't admit to Carlisle's intervention just yet, so I moved onto the next point and silence ruled. He let it sit until it almost became unbearable. I actually winced at the oppressive stillness.
"Exactly," he finally said and his voice broke on the word.
Instinctually he turned away, as humans do when they were facing a very difficult moment, when direct eye contact was just too much. Tears gathered in his eyes and he dashed them away, controlling his movements so that I wouldn't "sense" them. I was blinking furiously, attempting to control any from running down my checks, but failed. His point had been made. Without Carlie, there really wouldn't have been any positive reason for him to reappear…the benefit of an apology not worth the pain. He bit his lip and nodded in a determined manner.
"I didn't know about Carlie, or my decision would have been different. Not that she means more to me than you, but because her existence added a different level of responsibility to my actions."
I understood what he was saying, perhaps against all odds, but I did. He would have been responsible for her…I'd never doubted that.
"That evening, I sat around the table with my family full of hope. The next morning, I couldn't get to the office quick enough to see if the man had faxed over anything. It was then that we found out about Charlie."
I sobbed, thinking of Jacob's voice telling me that my dad wasn't coming to get me and why. Anthony jumped at the sound and started to reach out for me, but his fingertips hovered just above my arm. I didn't have to see to know it was there…the heat flowed between us, singeing my skin. He stared at where he'd about touch me and then slowly withdrew his hand…the clenched fist back.
"Once I'd let go of the figurative bonds I'd placed around me, I couldn't focus, I couldn't breathe, all I wanted to do was find you and make sure you were okay. To know that Charlie hadn't been there…" He cursed. "Finally, my secretary made me go to lunch, telling me that I was driving her crazy and that she would call me if anything further came in. Needing the fresh air, I decided to walk to one of the local sidewalk cafes, passing a bookstore on the way. I found myself walking in, in need of a distraction, and knowing that I would probably absorb only about a tenth of what I was reading, I hastily picked up the latest "hot" book, that was on display, grabbed a sandwich, and went back to the office. Seeing the scowl on Miranda's face, I buried myself inside and began to read…hoping to keep myself from going crazy or being murdered by my assistant." He grinned his smirk and my heart stuttered, just before he shook his head softly.
"The book was amazing, and I couldn't help but get caught up in the message of eventual forgiveness and letting go. By the end of the day, I knew I'd made a horrible mistake." He turned to the back of the book and began to read.
For in this life, we meet as the water with the rock in the stream.
With some, we crash violently with loud noise and vigorous spray.
Others we pass quickly in our journey to the next destination.
At times, the water passes over the rock merrily as the sun dapples its existence.
But always, there is the dance between the rock and the water.
In the end, the rock's rough edges are worn smooth, and the water is purified.
In God's creation, we are shaped and defined by the interplay, so that we can always remember.
And by remembering we never lose what is important…
It is only with the heart that one can see rightly;
What is essential is invisible to the eye.
NO! NO! NO! NO! The earth stopped turning and the band around my chest tightened. Unaware of my distress, Anthony continued talking.
"Anonymous…whoever he or she is…helped me see, Bella. We were going to be like the water, overwhelming you…drowning you more than likely. See how we've already botched it all, rushing in "crashing violently with loud noise and vigorous spray" like a tsunami. I don't think we'd know how to accomplish the merry dance between the water and rock, because all we…I…wanted to do was lay on the ground at your feet and grovel. Watching the last few weeks unfold, I've realized just how right I was in my assessment back then. It didn't mean I didn't feel the need to still subjugate myself before you, but without the impetus that Carlie provided…you were better and would be better off without us in your life."
Feeling faint from the lack of oxygen, I began to feel sick. Oh God, no…please…
"I've often wondered who the G.E. was to whom the author dedicated the book. Was he or she the water or the rock? In the end, did they dance merrily or was he/she only a stop in the destination? My decision was made. I'm sorry I didn't find you then Bella to apologize, but I made a decision and I stuck to it, even when it almost killed me. Alice begged unmercifully, but thankfully my mom and dad seemed to understand."
In the small part of my brain that wasn't dying, I noted…because they thought I was married to Jacob and had two of his babies. In the part of my brain that was dying, I noted…Fate had thrown everything against us.
The book had been my farewell to him, my dedication…Green Eyes, my nickname for him. I'd let go of the boy who'd haunted me slowly, bit by bit, as I wrote the words and sobbed through the process. It was my Swan Song to him…hence the name. How couldn't he have not known? Forcing my eyes to the tattered book that was cradled in his hand, I realized he had…somewhere deep inside, his soul had recognized mine's work….soul speaking to soul when nothing else would listen. The well-worn look of the book told of many readings, as if he was seeking an answer within the pages.
"The women were my sick way of addressing the physical ache to be with you, but it never really worked, and I feel less about myself than I ever thought possible because of it. I was disrespectful…my actions were just another horrendous mistake after another. I saw your face, not theirs." He grimaced at the horrible admission.
I wheezed out at the implications of what he was saying, and his eyes jerked to mine. He looked horrified at seeing the tears running down from under my glasses. I wondered if I was blue.
"Bella, breathe!" he ordered moving even closer, and I forced air in and out of my lungs, feeling the burning as if liquid fire was pouring down my throat. He watched me intently until he saw me begin to calm.
"Why…why are you telling me this?" I gurgled out, totally incapable of telling him just who G.E. was or that a little over seven years ago, he'd been the whole reason for the book The Swan Song by Anonymous.
Green eyes took me in intently, and he opened his mouth as if to say something but didn't. Finally he said very softly and with great pain, "I don't really have the right to ask, but Demetri…is it serious?"
WHAT! Demetri? What did he have to do with any of this? I said the first thing that came to mind. "He makes me…happy." He made me laugh, feel comfortable, and just relax. It was so easy to be around him.
Anthony actually looked sick at my words. He moved back, and I felt the withdrawal physically and emotionally.
"Why are you telling me this?" I growled out, furious that he hadn't answered my question.
"It isn't important, Bella." He closed his eyes, pain washing across his features. "Would you please consider accepting my heartfelt apology?"
There was no doubt that he was contrite; sincerely upset over what his actions had done. The simplicity of his words and their timbre left me no other interpretation. But why had he said what he did about the women, about trying to forget me…he'd long ago accomplished that.
"WHY!" I roared, making my head hurt and reminding me that I was still recovering from surgery and wasn't supposed to get overly emotional. But, I wasn't always the most rational person.
Edward eyes flared at my tone, his face a masterpiece of regret and agony, just before he growled out, "Because I hoped to see if we might be able to start again, to see if you might give me another chance at us. I love you, Bella. I always have, and I always will…"
AN: I know…I know…but you'll notice that this chapter was almost 8000 words! It was humongous in total. Reviewers will get Edward's POV of his and Bella's talk and what he was feeling. Yup! You heard me…Edward's side. I couldn't make it work to have them both here.
The dedication in Bella's book is one I did for my husband for our first Valentine's Day. I purchased a copy of The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry for him (the last two lines are from the book). He should have known what he was up for... Snicker.
Would love to know what you think...
