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"Class Act"

Chapter Thirty-Six: Farewell

(Edward)

"I feel like we just got you back, and now you're leaving," Dad said.

I smiled, opening my car door. "I'll call you when I get there."

"You should just stay here. You don't have anything over at your place." He folded his arms across his chest. "Leave in the morning."

"No." I grinned as I hugged him again. "I want to get going early. Mom will make breakfast, and I won't get on the road until noon." Patting his back, I pulled away.

As soon as I sat in the car, my father gestured for me to put the window down. "It's none of my business . . ." His brow furrowed. "I didn't want to bring it up in front of your mother, and Dr. Gerandy did nothing wrong—professional courtesy, although he didn't break your confidentiality . . . why were you seeing a therapist? And for over a month? Son, you can talk to me." He reached in to massage my shoulder.

Shrugging away from his grasp, I had to laugh. "Impulse control issues . . . Trust me; I was close to admitting myself to the mental ward." I snorted, shaking my head. "I'm not crazy, though, and I haven't changed . . . things are just different."

He frowned. "What the heck does that mean?"

I sighed. "I have an addictive personality . . . no real disorder."

Of course, I wasn't exactly truthful to my therapist.

I couldn't be.

He knew there was a woman I was desperate for, but he didn't know how deep my feelings ran.

I was honest about following her those few times, and being . . . as Bella said, creepy.

Not being able to see Bella every day was torture, but I did see her.

She drove Alice to Dr. Gerandy's office every week. She'd wait in the parking lot.

I'd see her, but she didn't see me.

I followed her home from a party once, too. Coming home from my parents' house, I saw her walking—unsteadily, I might add—toward her home. I'd slowed to a crawl and parked my car. It was obvious she was drunk, and I walked after her. She never turned around, but I did when she made it to her door.

She was at Dairy Queen when Tanya said she'd owed me for fixing her flat. I'd always been a sucker for mint chocolate chip, and Bella hadn't seen me then either. She was too busy arguing with her friend, and then they peeled out of the parking lot.

Bella watered her lawn at twilight, every night, wearing her pajamas.

Every night, I drove by her house. Sometimes she'd be home and other times she wouldn't.

When I pulled into my driveway, Bella's truck was there.

Surprised, shocked, and weirdly excited, I exited my car and rapidly entered the condo. It was dark and quiet, and when I turned on the light in the living room, I saw her.

She was asleep, tangled in my blankets on the blow-up bed.

Bella was gorgeous.

I sat on the floor to watch her.

Her chest rose and fell with every breath.

She'd mumble nonsense and move.

She'd smiled and buried her head into the pillow.

I must have sat there for an hour, wondering if this was a dream.

She'd come to see me.