Edward.
This was not going to go well, no, not at all. What the hell was my father thinking? No matter how funny I may have found this, Bella and my father clearly didn't. The tensions between them was so thick, I could cut it with a knife. My knife, my stainless steel knife and not Bella's plastic one.
"What the hell is this?" Bella said, picking up the offending cutlery and holding them in the air with the tips of her fingers.
My father had taken it upon himself to have her cutlery replaced with plastic, single use ones, the ones that can break very easily. The ones that cannot cause too much damage.
"Is there a problem?" My father asked, making a show of his proper utensils as he sliced through his breakfast.
"You're damn right there is. What is this suppose to be?" She yelled.
"Protection." My father shrugged.
There was nothing I could possibly say or do here. I could only sit back and watch the drama unfold right before me. I may not agree with what my father had done, but I was able to see the humor in it, unlike Bella.
"Protection from what? From me?" She yelled.
"It is not appropriate for a lady to yell at the table," he said. "And yes, it is for protection, my protection. After your stunt by the pool. I am not willing to take any risks where you are concerned."
Bella threw her head back laughing. It was the sort of laugh that could make you think it was from a deranged lunatic.
I looked at my father shaking my head, wishing that he would have told me of his plans beforehand so that I could have at least prepared Bella somehow, although I doubt her reaction would have been any different to what it is now.
"You know what, I'm not hungry," she said, pushing her chair back and standing up.
'Bella," I called after her. I threw my napkin down on the table and stood to go after her.
"You have not finished your breakfast," my father said.
"You know, you're a real son of bitch. Why the hell would you do that to her?" I asked.
"I am scared for my safety. And it is clear that you cannot bring her under control, so what am I supposed to do."
"You are afraid of her?" The thought alone made me want to roll on the floor with laughter. If it was any other man I might believe him. But the thought of my father afraid of someone like Bella, it amused me beyond what words could describe. "Jesus Christ."
"Where are you going?" He called out after me, as I hurried out of the room.
"To go and see if I can fix your fuck up," I called back.
"Do not forget that we leave in one hour. Do try and bring her under control by then."