Big thanks to my betas.

February 24th, 2012 – Part II

I really, really wish I could get out of here right now.

"Angela, would you order something for me?" I ask, sending her a pleading look. Next to her, Emmett is staring daggers at me.

"What do you want?"

"What are you going to have?" I smile softly at her, noticing that everyone is now staring at me.

"The mushroom lasagna," she says, unaware of the tension. "I'll order for you, too."

I smile. "Thank you."

I grab my purse and pass by Edward, who is now fixated on me. I glance at the door and then at him, and he nods slightly. I make my way to the ladies' room and look at myself in the mirror. It's hard to understand how I can still react like this to this whole… situation. I'm so changed that I don't even look like my old teenage self. Not when it comes to looks, and certainly not when it comes to my wants and dreams.

Edward is not in my plans. He's simply not. But after our "conversation" the other day… Emmett made it sound like it was a date, but it wasn't. I lashed out on Edward, I criticized him… there was even one moment when I wanted to slap him for shutting down when I begged for an explanation. And yet, he seemed sorry. It seemed like he wanted something from me. And now he's here, and Jacob didn't tell anyone he was coming. It was on purpose, I can tell.

I've spent too much time in the bathroom by now, and I quickly wash my hands and head out of the restaurant discreetly, regretting immediately not bringing my jacket outside. It's cold as fuck.

He's standing by the corner, looking at the ground. It makes me feel guilty, and I don't like it.

"What are you doing here?" I start, my voice cracking in the middle of the sentence.

He's startled and turns to me. What I see in his eyes terrifies me. They are so intense, so bright, so… everything. I take one step back compulsively.

"I know I shouldn't have come. But I wanted to…" he says, smiling sheepishly. "After the conversation we had the other day, I thought we were okay. I don't know what I was thinking," he chuckles dryly, getting something out of his pocket.

"You smoke?" I ask, staring at the lighter in his hand.

He laughs. "A fucking disgusting habit."

How did I not notice this?

"Since when?" I ask, getting closer to him.

He lights the cigarette up, bringing it to his mouth. "A year or two ago," he explains. "I'm not very good at it."

I laugh, accidently looking at his lips. "Is anybody?"

"My sister. She's great at it."

Alice. I haven't thought about her in a while.

"Well, with her job and everything…" I suggest, remembering what he told me the other day. She works at a fashion magazine in Paris. Only Alice could achieve that.

"Still."

I look at the ground, watching our feet move. I have no idea what to say.

"I'm sorry I came, but I wanted to see you," Edward apologizes.

"What? Why?" I ask, looking strangely at him.

He chuckles, looking at the ground again. "I've been thinking a lot about our conversation… and you. Hell, I think about you the whole day, from the minute I wake up until the minute I'm falling asleep," he declares. "I just really, really want you in my life. You have no idea."

I take a deep breath, and I realize I'm trembling. I was definitely not expecting this.

"God, don't do this to me," I say, finally looking at him. "My opinion of you is not the best, you know? Sometimes it's hard for me to look at you. Do you have any idea?"

He sighs, throwing the cigarette on the pavement and smashing it with his foot. "Still, I'm trying. And I will try."

I laugh, thinking about this whole scenario. I think I'm going insane.

"What are you doing to me? Seriously," I laugh again, needing to support myself on the wall, "You make me feel like a little girl."

He touches my arm and I look at him. He's so close to me. I like it. I hate it. I don't know what I'm feeling.

"And you have no idea how you make me feel. I felt like such a dick after what I did to you… And then I saw you for the first time in two years, and you were beautiful, funny, smart… I even wondered if you were single, and when I realized you probably weren't, I was ready to track down the asshole. You –" he sighs, smiling bitterly. "You have no idea."

I gasp for air. I feel completely irrational and pathetic, because I'm being ruled by my emotions and I hate it. I should be telling him he's an asshole, that he deserves nothing, and that he ruined my life. Instead, I'm kissing him like the world is going to end. I'm grabbing his hair and moaning into his mouth, begging him to make this feeling inside of me stop.

Before you decide to kill me, they aren't going to jump into a relationship. There are still going to be a few ups and downs. Thank you for reading.