February 15, 2011

Prompt: Sweets

Pairing: Edward/Bella

Storyline: Dear Diary

… continued from Chapter 35

~*Witfit*~

July 11, 1913

Dear Diary,

Today was perfect. Edward arrived at noon, punctual as always, and he looked so handsome. He was wearing a pair of khaki pants, a blue and white striped shirt, and a navy blazer. His hair had that wind-blown look I've come to love, and his eyes were alive and full of life.

When he first saw me, he stood there, speechless, his eyes roving up and down my body. It was intense and left me feeling breathless. I have never had that kind of a reaction before, but when his blazing green eyes met mine, I think my heart might have stopped a little. He looked like he wanted to devour me right there, and while I know it was inappropriate to have those kinds of thoughts, I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to be in his arms or to feel his lips against mine.

The moment was awkwardly broken when Carlisle cleared his throat, and Edward jerked his eyes away from mine in time to mutter a simple hello to him.

After we left, my hand in his, he told me how beautiful I looked. He really liked my dress and the way it perfectly matched the hat he'd purchased for me. Conversation was easy between us for a change. He told me about his trip to some of the big banks in Chicago and how they'd been a success. He didn't go into detail but did say he'd built some new, promising relationships that would serve the bank well in time.

I told him about my week and about Alice. He smiled when I shyly told him how good it felt to have someone to talk to. I was beyond grateful when he encouraged me to see her again, saying she'd make a good friend. That was comforting, especially after the weird look I thought I saw cross her face when I'd mentioned I was engaged to Edward.

We spent the afternoon in a rowboat in the middle of a small lake in Forest Park. He told me how much he loved being out on the water, how as a child he'd spent many of his summer days sailing with his father on Lake Michigan. We talked about his childhood and his family. He used to live in Chicago, and his family still owned a home there. His parents had passed some time ago, but he couldn't seem to part with his childhood home. Hearing him talk about himself so casually was heartwarming and made me feel weird inside. The more he talked, the more I wanted him to keep going. I wanted to know everything about this man.

He didn't let me just sit there, though. He asked me questions about my childhood and family, and I shared a little. I told him my mother had run off when I was a baby, and I hadn't spoken to her since. My father, who died when I was eighteen, raised me… with the help of Mrs. Cope. I told him about life in Rochester, explaining that much of my time was spent helping Mrs. Cope with the inn she ran.

We sat there quietly, floating on the surface of the lake. I was grateful for the hat on my head. The sun was hot and high overhead. We were lucky to have a cool breeze blowing across the water, because it would have been dreadful without it. Eventually he asked the question I'd been dreading – what made me put my name in the paper.

You would think I hadn't spent time thinking about it by the way I stumbled over my words, but he was patient. I explained how my prospects in Rochester were limited. No one wanted to marry someone with no family, very little money, who worked as a housekeeper at an inn. Most of my interaction was with people passing through, and without any real connections to the community, it just didn't seem realistic to assume I'd find someone decent.

After I'd finished, Edward sat there quietly. He didn't say anything for a while, but it wasn't uncomfortable. I think he was trying to reconcile everything I'd said with the person sitting in the boat with him. I admit, my story seems a little pathetic when I recount it like this, but I never felt like it was or I was… I just decided I needed and wanted more for myself.

As he rowed us across the lake to the shore, he told me he appreciated my honesty, and that he was glad he'd found me. He told me he wanted to take me one other place before dinner if I was up for something sweet and promised we'd get the chance to talk about the conversation we had on Tuesday evening.

We walked hand in hand back to the car. Everything seemed easy, and yet, not too easy. It's hard to believe I've only known him for eight days.

He drove us through the city to a large brick building with a green awning. Crown Candy. He told me they had the best milkshakes in the city, and he was not lying. We shared one, because they were huge. We took turns sipping out of the straw and digging into the glass with our long spoons. It was probably one of the sweetest moments of the day.

Eventually he drove me back to his house, and Maria served us dinner. As per the usual, it was delicious and well prepared.

The evening wore on, and I couldn't put my curiosity off anymore. I asked him why he needed to send for me when he was clearly a very handsome, successful man. I told him it didn't make sense why he would need me.

I'm not going to lie. I was nervous. He shifted uncomfortably and ran his hand through his hair, a gesture I'd come to realize meant he was nervous. When he finally looked back up at me, his face had that same tired, worn down expression on it that he had when he started talking about this earlier in the week. It made my heart hurt all over, and I did the only thing I could think of – I took his hand in mine and wrapped my fingers around his. His eyes brightened and the tightness in his jaw dissipated.

He smiled warmly, and something in that moment shifted. The rules and concerns seemed to disappear, and it was just the two of us, sharing a bit of emotional space. I leaned forward a little, unconsciously, and he did the same. I couldn't take my eyes off him. All the thoughts I'd had earlier in the door about what it would feel like to kiss him were running around in my mind, and ever so slowly, he moved closer.

His tongue flicked out to wet his bottom lip, and slowly, deliberately, his lips brushed against mine. It was tender and sweet, warm and a little wet, and like nothing I've ever experienced. He pulled back slightly, and I could feel his breath against my skin as his nose brushed against mine. It felt so intimate and amazing and so many other feelings I can't even begin to express. I thought for sure he was done, but then his free hand found its way to my cheek, and his thumb caressed my cheekbone, my jaw, and then he leaned in and kissed me again. This time his lips were firmer against mine, and my body felt like it was on fire. As he moved his lips, I let go and responded, letting my mouth connect with his in slow, sensual movements. My heart was pounding, my breath felt short, and I have NEVER felt more alive.

I know my face must have been so bright red, but when Edward sat back, he squeezed my hand and gave me that brilliant smile that made my heart clench in so many ways and told me he loved the way my cheeks told him exactly what I was feeling.

After a minute or two of quiet silence, he whispered thank you. I told him he could talk to me, that I wasn't going anywhere. I came here for him, and barring some horrible secret, I wasn't leaving.

I am not sure what possessed me to say that, but it felt right. I knew deep down it was true. He nodded his head, a warm, grateful smile forming easily. He spent the rest of the evening explaining how the person who'd broken into the house and killed Jane hadn't left behind any signs of forced entry or a struggle. Suspicion naturally fell on him, and despite the fact he'd been at the bank that evening, people still thought he'd done it or arranged to have it done. The whole experience was devastating. He had lost his wife, his home had been violated, and people he thought were his friends turned their back on him. The Cullens and a handful of others had stuck by his side, never wavering in their belief he was innocent.

I can't imagine what that kind of behavior and loss must have felt like, and sitting beside him, my hand in his, I knew he was telling the truth. All the rumor and suspicion he had to endure would not be felt at my hands.

"My prospects, like yours, were extremely limited. And to be completely honest, the women who were available, were not marrying type."

"I'm sorry, Edward."

"Don't be. I'm not. Well, I'm sorry that all that had to happen, but it also brought you into my life, Bella. I can't be sorry for that."

I didn't say anything. What could I say to that? All I know is I have never felt more special than I did in that moment, and if that's even a fraction of what it feel like to be his wife, then I'm ready now.

We wrapped up our conversation, and he drove me home. Being the perfect gentleman that he is, he walked me to the door, but before he opened the door, he asked if he could kiss me again and I said yes. Of course.

Until tomorrow…