Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer
Oh, love is so good
When you're treated like you should be
The sky goes on forever in a symphony of song
And how the water can flow
Like it's streaming outta fountains
And all you got to do is find a sword and a stone
- Undertaker, M. Ward
BPOV
"Well well well. Isn't this a....pleasant surprise."
**
"Why would it be a surprise?" Edward continues, giving Victoria a classic eyebrow raise. "This is my father's benefit. I'm expected to be here. The surprizzzze is why you're here." The buzz of Edward's against the back of his teeth sends a shiver between my legs.
"I came with my father," she answers swiftly, taking a sip from her tall champagne flute. She steps forward - and standing in those shiny black stiletto heels she towers over me -leaning towards Edward to whisper in his ear on the side I'm not standing. Her skin-tight black mini dress brushes against his side making the swhoooshy sound of contact.
"...Can I talk to you in private?" she mouth-breathes across his neck and the hair on the back of my neck stands up. I might be forced to choke a bitch.
Edward closes his eyes and sighs and I wonder if it's time for me to make a scene.
"No, I don't think so, Victoria. I haven't seen my parents yet, and I'd like to introduce them to my girlfriend. Bella." He moves me in front of him and wraps his arms around my chest. I can't see his face but I know he's grinning.
"You've met Bella, haven't you?" He kisses my temple.
Victoria glares at me through her fur-tipped fake eyelashes and each one of our hideous encounters flashes simultaneously through our eyes like a searing poker straight from the fires of a persistent memory.
Once I'm with him, he'll have everything he needs. I fight back the nausea that comes with the recollection of that day and what it did to my subsequent weeks.
If Edward wants his bags he can be a man and come back here to collect them himself. He needn't send his errand girl.
...and I'm about to punch her in the face. Or cry. Or both.
With a superior huff she smirks down at me from her perch atop her bazillion dollar shoes and licks her lips, turning her attention back to Edward.. "Your parents are in the side salon with New Yorker magazine."
"I know where they are," Edward answers curtly.
"Mmm." She takes another sip of champagne and watches over our shoulders at the party-goers, assessing which lucky ones are suitable to spend their time in her presence. I suddenly feel exhausted and depleted, like valuable moments of my life have been stolen from me by an undeserving time-poaching vampire.
"Well," she sighs dismissively. "Maybe we can talk later then. Edward," she says, making only partial eye-contact with him. She has no doubt spotted another potential victim in the crowd that needs their soul sucked from their body...and that's when it hits me.
I've finally seen it for myself.
Edward was right.
She never loved him.
All those years that he was hers, the bond that forms when you find someone you want to share your world with, those powerful connections never took hold of her. She never cared for him in any way other than on a basic surface-level. She may have loved what he represented or the superficial "know" that his name instantly brings, but the man, the mistakes, the glorious mistakes, the qualities and faults that make him real, that make him human, that make him Edward Anthony Cullen- those things weren't enough for her to fall in love with. And yet, those were the exact things that made him mine.
We're like each others back-up quarterbacks.
As much as I want to slam her into the ground for having the over-inflated self-confidence to show up here and for daring to look my Edward in the face, it stuns me how she's able to find the strength to look away from his beauty.
"Bella."
I cringe at the sound of her voice speaking my name.
"It was lovely seeing you again," she continues. I return her phony smile. "........Oh and," she turns on her heel to look me up and down one last time.. "...Nice dress." With a twitch of her nose she walks away, wiggling her ass and I groan internally at the mental picture of her straddling Edward sweaty and naked with her cheeks flushed as red as her hair.
"I know I know," Edward mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose as he hurries me towards the side room attached to the banquet hall.
"I didn't say anything," I reply through clenched teeth.
"You don't have to. I can read your mind."
"No you can't."
"You're right. I can't. But I can read your body, and it's telling me that you were about two seconds away from clawing her eyes out."
"I'd never do that here."
"Ah, so you are a lady after all. I knew it."
"Not quite, But I won't give her the satisfaction of having me escorted from the building."
"Edward! Bella! There you are!"
"Rosalie!" I squeal, spinning around in time to see her hurrying across the dancefloor. Her baby blue floor length gown swishes silently at her feet and I'm amazed at the graceful way she avoids tripping over it. I imagine she's wearing glass slippers. Her platinum-blond hair is completely down, parted at the side with a delicate diamond-encrusted barrette and spilling over her shoulder in thick waves.
"Wow, you look beautiful," she says as she reaches me. She takes my hands in hers and kisses me on both cheeks. She smells like lavender and cake mix.
"Thanks. So do you, obviously."
She pulls me into a hug and out of the corner of my eye, behind her, I see....
...in a dapper cream-colored suit and loosely tied cream-colored tie...his jet-black hair setting off his freshly shaven face...those piercing good looks...
"What are you staring at, Swan?" Emmett grins, showing off his precious dimples.
"Huh? Me? Uh, nothing," I stammer.
The fact that the suit you're wearing looks like it was sewn to your muscles and there's no way in hell you picked that shit out yourself? Maybe that?
He leans in to kiss me sweetly on the cheek before standing up straight to face Edward.
"Glad you could come, Emmett," Edward says sincerely, taking Emmett's outstretched hand and shaking it firmly.
"Thanks, man." There's a tone to Emmett's voice that reeks of an apology. I know the tone because it's the same one he had the first time he made me cry. Which was also the first time he took a swing at Jake. A swing that fractured Jake's jaw.
"...Look," Emmett starts. "I, uh..."
And that's where it stalls. He obviously hasn't practiced this one in front of the mirror.
"It's ok, Em. You don't have to say anything. It's cool." Edward smiles, bailing him out and giving him a bro-slap on the back. He turns to Rosalie and raises his eyebrows in a show of approval.
"Damn, sis. You look hot."
Rosalie flings herself into Edward's arms. He catches her easily like she were a ballerina.
"Thank you, Edward," she whispers into her brothers ear, gripping his arm tenderly, and Edward knows it's for the gesture towards Emmett, not the perverted compliment.
"Have you been in to see mom and dad yet?" Edward asks. Rosalie nods and returns to Emmett's side.
"I wanted to get it over with," she sighs. "so we got here early. You're late, y'know."
"Yeah, I know. We got sidetracked." Edward winks in my direction and my eyes immediately hit the floor. I feel my cheeks burn fiery red.
"Edwarrrrd, "I blush.
"Ugh really, Edward. You're such a guy," Rosalie chuckles. She turns to me and smiles. "Hey Bella, don't worry about Victoria, ok? She's a troll and she's only here because of her father. You're so much better for Edward. I mean it. I never liked her and I never understood what Edward saw in her. Her nose is too pointy and she does this weird eye-rolly/tongue thing when she's talking about things she thinks are important that nobody else cares about." Rosalie imitates the look and I hold back a snort. It's a perfect impersonation of Cher mixed with Big Bird.
"And she treated Edward like he was her fucking handbag. She hung on him and carted him around like an accessory. I mean, yeah, my brother's hot. I know it, you know, shit everyone knows it, but Jesus Christ, he's not a pashmina."
"Um, hello I'm standing right here, have you forgotten??" Edward barks and me and Rose bust out laughing. Edward rolls his eyes and holds me tightly against his side. "Alright that's quite enough you two. ...Come on, baby. Let's go show my parents how much better my taste in women has become."
**
My knees are knocking as we enter the small lounge that's also functioning as a press area for the guest of honor and where Edward's parents are currently being interviewed by a reporter from the New York Times.
"Ouch, Bella. You're hurting me." Edward pries my nails out of his forearm and brings my fingers to his lips. He kisses each one sweetly and breathes, "I love you," across them.
I take a deep breath and nod.
It's immediately obvious that the dashing pair in front of me are his parents. It would be obvious to anyone with half a brain. The resemblance is startling. Edward is the perfect combination of both of their finest qualities.
We stand off to the side watching his father answer questions while Edward's mother stands regally by his side.
"She's not drinking," Edward remarks. "They must have had one of their talks before leaving Forks."
The interview ends and his parents begin their approach towards us. I tense up and my stomach rolls. Carlisle looks like a GQ cover model in his classy tuxedo and Esme could be Jackie Kennedy's prettier sister. I assess my own appearance and perform the checklist. My shoes match my dress. I smell like Ralph Lauren's 'Romance'. I reapplied my lipgloss, my piercings are gone. I have a delicate gold chain around my neck and naturally pearly white teeth. I ate a handful of Tic-Tacs on the ride in. I should be in good shape.
"Edward, my darling. You look handsome as ever," his mother gushes, pulling him into her arms and hugging him tightly. She lets him go after a moment and smooths her hand down the front of his shirt and straightens his tie. "It's remarkable," she beams. "How much you look like your father did at your age."
"You look beautiful, mother," Edward begins. He shakes his father's hand and they exchange a knowing smile. Then Edward pulls me to his side and I know it's my turn.
"Mom, Dad. I'd like to introduce you to Isabella Swan. ...Bella, these are my parents, Dr. Carlisle Cullen and Mrs. Esme Masen Cullen."
I find my voice and extend my hand in their direction. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you both."
"The pleasure is ours, Isabella," Mrs. Cullen says. She is a remarkably stunning woman, shapely, yet not overly manicured or made-up, and with an immaculate up-do framing her heart-shaped face.
"Congratulations, Dr. Cullen," I turn to him and smile. "This is a wonderful event."
I feel like I should curtsy. Would it be wrong to curtsy? The moment feels like it calls for a curtsy.
He takes my hand and raises it chin level. I stand unmovable in the laser beam of his intense presence. He presses his lips to my knuckles and I swoon. Damn, he's good. So that's where Edward gets it from.
"Edward tells us you're Chief Swan's daughter. I see him in town from time to time. Lovely man. Very honest and hard-working. And you are every bit as beautiful as he described."
Huh? My father? Talks about me?
"With all due respect, Dr. Cullen, I haven't seen my father in years. I doubt he'd even recognize me if he saw me now."
"Tsk tsk, young lady. Many assumptions are the result of misunderstandings and pride. The latter far more destructive than the former, but inexcusable nonetheless. I fear many valuable relationships are the victims of thought processes such as those, Miss Swan. We should work consciously towards avoiding self-inflicted destructive behavior whenever possible."
His clear, blue eyes glitter and shine and I can see how, when mixed with Esme's hazel, they created Edward's dazzling emerald green.
"Miss Swan?" he repeats, knocking me out of my daze.
"Please, call me Bella." My mouth is dry but I manage the words.
"Alright, Bella," he continues. "I'd hate to see a relationship as vital as the one between a father and daughter be compromised due to the petty trivialities associated with pride and ego. Entitlement - it's a vicious time-waster. Allow me to use my own misgivings as an example. ...Do we understand each other?"
"Y-yes, sir." I think.
"Bella, honey, why don't we browse some of the items up for auction and leave the men to get themselves a drink?" Esme fits her hand into the crook of my elbow and begins to pull me away.
"Oh, uh, sure Mrs. Cullen, that'd be awe-, I mean, yes that would be lovely, thank you."
I smile up at Edward and detach myself from his grasp.
"You ok with that, baby?" he asks with a look a severity on his creased brow. I rise to my tiptoes and place a demure kiss on his tasty lips.
"Of course, darling. I'll be just fine."
EPOV
"Whatcha drinking, dad?" I eye his empty glass as we make our way into the ballroom.
"Glenlivet, single malt. You?"
"Hadn't started yet. Suppose I'll have the same."
"Excellent choice."
"There you are, Carlisle. How did the interview with the Times go?"
Fuuuuuck. I know that voice.
"Nothing I couldn't handle, Alastair. Talking to the press is old hat."
I contemplate continuing to walk away without looking back, but there's no escaping. I have to turn around.
Dammit.
Behind us stand Victoria and her father, the white-haired old bean, as my father calls him behind his back.
I shove my hands in my pockets and rock on my heels.
"Edward," Alastair addresses me and I'm reminded of the summer I spent at his place in Tahoe. "Nice to see you again. This time under better circumstances of course." He doesn't reach out to shake my hand and I'm glad because I don't want to touch him. I can feel Victoria undressing me with her beady eyes.
"Uh, yeah," I answer. "I guess it's better here than a hospital."
"So, Carlisle, why don't you join me in the smoking room for a cigar." They exchange a glance and the decision is made. I know what they're doing. They want to leave me and Victoria alone together in this room full of people. Bella's been absconded with by my mother. Rosalie is preoccupied with Emmett somewhere, and my father is in sudden urgent need to go for a smoke with his boyfriend. I couldn't have orchestrated it better myself.
Grown men can be such school girls.
I lean against the wall and sigh, wondering what my mother has done with my girlfriend and if I'll ever see her again. The ballroom is packed and people are starting to take their assigned seats. Which reminds me. I realize I never picked up mine and Bella's seating arrangements.
"Mmm, isn't this funny." Victoria throws down the bait.
Ok, I'll give.
"What the fuck is funny about any of this?"
"You. Me. Here, again. Standing on the outside looking in."
"If you want to be the belle of the ball so fucking badly, have at it. Mingle your heartout. You were always the sociable one at these bullshit parties."
"How can you call it that?" she says incredulously. "Your father is being honored here tonight."
"If that were all it was, then that would be fine," I start. "But it's not. It's a bunch of rich assholes sitting around being proud of themselves for giving to a cause that, yeah it's important and good, but they don't give a shit about kids with cancer. They just want to be seen and they want it to be known that they came out and gave of their precious time and money. ...See the press?" I point at the journalists I recognize. Many of them are from Forks and have come out to similar functions that I've attended with my family - and Victoria - over the years.
"They're not just talking to my father. They're writing up the whole event, and they'll list names and dollar signs. There will be no anonymous donors tonight, you can be sure of that."
We stand in silence for a few moments as the waitstaff bring out the appetizers and the auction sets up onstage.
"I better go find Bella. I'm not even sure where we're sitting."
"No Edward, wait." She clasps her fingers around my wrist and holds me back. For a brief second I think I see the hint of tears beginning to form behind her eyes.
"Please wait."
"What is it, Victoria."
This better be good.
"I...I just...oh Edward.....What's happened to the man I knew and loved? Where's he gone to?"
"What??" I have to laugh out loud at that one, loud enough to cover my mouth with my hand. "Did you just say loved?" I roll my eyes. "You never loved me."
"Of course I did. I loved certain things about you at least."
"Like what? The size of my cock? My future inheritance?"
"I have my own money, Edward. I don't need yours."
"You might not need it, but you want it. You're gagging for it." There's fury and resentment and years of built-up pain and stuffed-down hurt lighting fires inside my eyes and I know she can see it. She senses it like a scent rolling off me in waves.
"You think it's about the money, but I know you remember how I used to make you feel. It's so easy for you to forget now that you're occupied with someone else, but you used to be crazy about me. You couldn't get enough of me. Remember how you'd skip class just so you could be on my side of the school in time to meet me when I came out of bio/chem? You'd pull me down the alley behind the gym without a word and you'd fuck me against the cold wall. You were insatiable." She bats her eyelashes and sips from her freshly filled champagne flute.
"That was a long time ago," I answer without feeling.
"But it was real."
"Yes. It was. Then. To a horny teenage boy, you were the mother-load. I never denied that, and you knew it. You knew it and you used it. You used it against me, in your favor, to get what you wanted. And I let it happen because I was too fucked up on drugs and fucked up over you to care."
"But we're older now. Smarter. The world is a different place for us, filled with infinite opportunities if we stop being so stubborn and take advantage of them." She's somehow managed to find her way to my side and is pressed against the outline of my body, closer to me than she's been in months.
"Look at her," she groans, nodding over her shoulder. Bella is standing across the room, her hands clasped daintily in front of her as she feigns interest in the conversation she somehow got roped into with a group of my father's associates.
"She doesn't know what she's doing. She's not made for this kind of life." Victoria chuckles haughtily and puts her hand on my elbow. I pull it away but she's not deterred.
"I'm the best you can do. The old Edward knew that. That's why he never put up a fight."
I stare mesmerized at my girl while Victoria's voice falls on deaf ears.
Bella's nodding and smiling politely at the old perverts who surround her. Every now and then her hand reaches across her body to push the strap of her purse up her shoulder - and it's that delicate move, that simple gesture she doesn't even realize she's doing, that makes my heart ache for her. She's the one I belong with. If I was ever uncertain or blasé about my path in life and who I wanted to travel it with, I know with absolute conviction that the rest of my life will have Bella Swan by my side, with my ring on her finger and our child in her belly.
Bella moves her head slightly and she catches my stare with the corner of her shadowed eye. We're separated by a dance floor full of people moving in waves between us, but at that moment we're the only ones in the room that matter.
I wink at her and run my tongue over my bottom lip in a desperate show of seduction. She sees and giggles into her shoulder. Taking the tip of her index finger, she places it between her front teeth and begins lightly tonguing her polished nail. Clear polish. Fucking Christ. My sight is suddenly x-ray clear and I can see the way the light reflects diamonds off the saliva trails on her skin. She must be thinking the same thing I am. And why not. Our hearts beat as one, why shouldn't our brains function in tandem? I nod my head in the direction of the restrooms and she agrees, returning her attention briefly to her party and excusing herself.
"This is who I am now, Victoria," I say as I head across the room in the same direction as Bella. "This is who I always was. You just never took the time to notice and I never took the time to give a shit if you did."
**
I find her standing in the small alcove outside the restrooms, patiently waiting with her back to me, the edge of her ribbon tattoo exposed, and I have to stop briefly to compose myself. I take a deep, cleansing breath and walk up silently behind her.
"Excuse me, miss. Do I know you?" I ask low.
Her shoulder blades flex and I hear her breath hitch in her throat. She tries to keep her voice from shaking but she could never fool me. I see the goosebumps taking over her skin.
"No, I don't think so," she murmurs almost inaudibly.
"Hmm, that's interesting," I respond walking around to her front. "because I swear I've seen you somewhere."
"You must have me confused with someone else." She flicks her eyes at me and her through long lashes I see that familiar want boiling.
"Unlikely," I argue, biting the inside of my cheek. "But perhaps, if I had a closer look it might help to jog my memory." I trace my index finger over the length of her collarbone and she lets out a kitten-sized moan.
Her heart's racing; the blush is rising from her chest up her neck, climbing towards her cheeks.
"You're very forward, aren't you? Mister?"
"Cullen. But you can call me Edward all night long. ...And what's the point in waiting? When you see something you want, you should take it."
She pulls her plump bottom lip into her mouth while she ponders the decision I've laid out before her.
".....Yes," she reconciles. "You're right. I think that could be easily arranged."
"Excellent." I take her wrist and pull her into the marble "spa lounge", a fancy term for toilets, and quickly scan underneath the stalls for feet.
All clear. We're alone. Everyone in the dining hall is just now sitting down to the main course – lamb or veal or salmon - while I'm busy serving up an entree of my own. She's supple and tender and cooked to order. She's my exact temperature with just the right amount of spice. She melts in my mouth and she's waiting for me, quivering against the spotless tiled wall, her left leg hitched and bent underneath her ass. There's mirrors all around us throwing dozens of gorgeous Bella's in every angle imaginable. The arch of her spine, the angle of her waist; they're calling for me.
"Goddamnit Bella you look so motherfuckingsexy," I growl into her mouth, shoving my tongue between her teeth. She moans and opens up for me, sliding her tongue around mine, mingling our warm saliva together in languid strokes. She sucks and hums and my hands are in her hair, pinning her shoulders to the wall with my elbows. I force my knee between her legs and grind my erection into her thigh. Her hands find their way inside my blazer and begin kneading at my flesh through my shirt.
I have to have her here and now, and to look in her eyes would be to see the same need burning low and steady.
"Quickly, Edward. Before someone comes in," she cries into my neck.
A low, guttural growl escapes my throat and I shove her into a stall and close the latch. I loosen my belt and tug my cock free. She's hitched her dress around her waist in no time and is bracing herself against the shaky wall.
"Please Edward, hurry," she whispers, chewing on her bottom lip, her eyes darting over my body. That's it. I'm at her; lifting her in my arms, she knows instinctively to wrap her legs around my waist. I brace our combined weight against the stall with one arm while supporting her under her ass with the other.
"You're not wearing any fucking underwear," I growl as my hand comes into contact with her smooth bare ass cheek. Furious at what she does to me, I slam my throbbing erection deep inside her slick pussy without warning. She's wet and tight and she drops her her head to my shoulder as I begin to thrust, slowly at first but with more aggression as voices begin to float under the door from the hallway.
"Edward," she bites down on my shoulder and I cry out in pleasurable pain.
"Yes, baby, yes, hold on, almost there." I feel the pressure building low in my stomach. The friction in the small space is intense. I pull out and push back in and Bella's fisting through my hair, searching for what I'll never know. My knees are trembling. I'm close. She's clenching around me and I know she's coming.
"I feel you everywhere," I pant into her ear. I'm not exactly sure what I mean by it, but it seems like the only honest thing to say. She's crying out my name as her muscles vibrate around my cock. One more thrust is all it takes and I spill inside her, grunting like an animal and saying her name over and over. She's breathing heavily against the tight constraints of her dress and I kiss her deeply, passionately and tell her I love her between her teeth.
I set her on her feet and take toilet paper to wipe up the come that's spilling down her legs.
"Thank you for that, my darling," I murmur into her hair as we exit the facilities.
**
After the silent auction for the antique living room set and the dozen or so paintings donated from the estates of Joan Miro, Andrew Wyeth, and Andy Warhol, it was on to the dessert portion of the evenings festivities.
Bella and I had opted out of the whole dinner and eating thing, much to Bella's protested concerns that she'd come off badly in front of my parents. After I convinced her that my father was more concerned with what his associates thought about him than the opinion of his only son, she conceded and agreed to make out with me in the stairwell until it was time to re-emerge for the after dinner drinks. In fact, we spent the majority of the night sneaking off to one remote corner of the hotel or another to kiss and grope and fool around. She blew me behind the Employees Only door that led into kitchen and I fingered her between the coat racks while the Coat Check chick was outside having a smoke. I needed Bella's constant distraction and the calming effect her body and voice had on me. She'd become a chemical in my bloodstream. A vital nutrient. An essential element. Part of my DNA, and I wanted to be part of hers.
Speaking of my better half, she'd been away from me for exactly seventeen minutes while the ten piece band set up on stage and out of my direct line of sight for almost six of those minutes. And for six straight minutes I've been standing here, leaning against the bar with a drink to my lips, avoiding anyone that might look like they want to talk to me about a) my father b) what it feels like to be a Cullen c) my future plans for the Cullen name d) my girlfriend, Victoria.
I blanch at the memory of seventeen minutes ago, when that squirrelly reporter from TimeOutNewYork and his Buddy Holly eyeglasses smugly asked me how it felt to be in a long-term relationship with Victoria Hamill, one of America's top ranked up and coming women of privilege. He gave me a wink and a nudge in the ribs and I nearly gave him a sucker punch to the face as he made a lewd gesture in her direction.
"Victoria Hamill is quite the catch, Mr. Cullen. How does it feel to know that your union will merge two of the most powerful families in the Pacific Northwest?"
Union? Was this guy in a time warp? My patience with this bullshit was at an end.
"You might want to do some fucking research, buddy," I snarled into the young man's pimply, startled face. He took a step back, a reflex reaction to my aggression and whisky-tinged breath no doubt.
"Miss Hamill and I, are history. Got it? Write it down. Spread the word to your cronies and stay the fuck out of my way."
So here I stand, counting the minutes until Bella returns to my side to ease the ache in my chest.
"Here, man." I feel the chill of a glass against my hand.
It's Emmett standing by my side holding out a shot glass full of a clear liquid.
"You look like you could use it," he smirks.
One for him, one for me. I take it.
"What is it?" I bring it to my nose. There's no scent.
"Damned if I know. I asked the bartender for something that'd take the hair off our taint and that's what they gave me. Bottoms up." Emmett raises his glass and I raise mine.
"Cheers." And we drink.
"Fucking Christ, Emmett," I cough. The liquid is burning down my throat like fire. I try to find Emmett's face through the watery lenses of my tear-filled eyes. When I do it looks like mine. He's wiping his nose and shaking his head.
"Shit," he coughs. "What the fuck was that?" he wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand and we start to laugh at they way a drink can turn us into a pair of pussies.
"Where's my sister anyway?" I ask, ordering up a vodka tonic to take the choke away.
"She's off somewhere with Bella. They were giggling like teenagers so I figured it'd be best if I didn't know what they were up to. I made my escape while I had the chance. Before I could get roped into being an accomplice to their girly shenanigans."
I laugh and give him an 'amen, brother' nod.
"She's really great, Edward. Rosalie. I like her a lot."
"I'm glad." and I meant it.
"She told me that you're a awesome older brother. Her exact words. Her best friend, she said. That you've always been there for her. That she can count on you first thing in the morning or in the middle of the night. She's told me so many stories about the things you've done for her. Shit, the stories are endless. Unless she's making them up..."
"She's not."
"I know, man, I know. I also know that there's a lot of things she's leaving out of those stories. Like the real reasons why you did the things you did – reasons other than being a model older brother."
"They're probably the same reasons you did the things you've done for Bella."
"Bella's like a sister to me. Closer to me than my actual sister if you wanna know the truth."
"Have you two...ever....?"
Emmett's face twists at my insinuation. "Oh fuck no dude. Never. Not that I wouldn't have, cuz I totally would. She's hot, and smart, and sassy. She's got tattoos and piercings in all the right places, yet she's still got this purity thing and innocence about her. ...The old me," and I knew he meant pre-Rosalie. "The old me would have fucked her in a heartbeat and then taken her out for a beer. But it was never like that with me and Bella. Maybe because ever since I've known her I've been protecting her from one asshole or another. That girl attracts more dicks than Gay Pride Week, dude. "
"Like Jacob Black."
The name purses his lips and a blackness fills his eyes. "Yeah," he sours. "Like Jacob Black."
I have so many questions but I don't even know what they are. How can I verbalize my paranoia? How can I ask him to look into the future?
"Listen Edward. There's something you should now about Jacob Black."
"I appreciate it, Em, but Jasper already told me all about it."
"Ugh, did he go on a whiny tangent about how it's all his fault and he'll never forgive himself for taking her to that awful bullshit party where they met, but that he can't bring himself to fully regret it because he got to spend quality relationship-building time with Alice and 'oh god does that make me a monster?'?"
I chuckle. "Uh yeah, sorta."
"Fuckin' guy," Emmett laughs out loud, rolling his eyes and ordering up another drink. We're getting pretty tanked but at least it's keeping the vultures away.
"In the beginning I thought it was because he secretly had the hots for little Bellerina the way he'd get all choked up over it."
Bellerina? Interesting nickname.
"He'd yakk your ear off for a goddamn hour at the mere mention of Jake or the break up or the aftermath. I had to slap him out of it one time. Literally. I warned him that I was going to do it but he kept on.....so I did. Not hard, but in the face and enough to shut him up. He was kinda pissed at me for awhile after but he got over it."
Back up.
"Aftermath?" Bella told me the break up with Jake didn't exactly go well and that he went all freak-show on her for awhile. And then there was the pregnancy scare that fucking did my head in when she told me about it. But what did Emmett mean by 'aftermath'? That had some Saving Private Ryan-sounding shit behind it. I suddenly wish I had been drinking virgin Shirley Temples instead of Belvedere.
"Listen to me," Emmett leans into my shoulder and the severity in his marble eyes catches in my throat. My palms begin to sweat and I've never wanted to hear anything more than what Emmett was about to say.
"Are you listening?"
"Yes. I'm listening," I croak.
"Good. Then I'll be blunt."
As if I expected anything less.
"Edward," he began. "Jacob Black is a Barbie doll compared to his brothers. They are dangerous men who are involved in a variety of nefarious and illegal activities. Do not cross them."
"Well I can't just stand by and..."
"You're not listening. I'm telling you. I've broken Jacob Black's jaw. His arm. His wrist. I've kicked him out of my bar more times than I can count and for months I walked Bella home every night while my buddy, Percy, an NYPD detective, trailed behind us in his cruiser. ...Bella doesn't know that part. She also doesn't know that his brothers have threatened me every day and in every way possible since the first time I put him in the hospital."
"The first time? How many times were there?"
"Two."
"...how many times have they put you there, Emmett?"
He's quiet, but I know he's going to tell me.
"Once." He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and swirls the ice in the bottom of his glass.
"I was tossing Jake out of my bar for the third week in a row - somehow he always managed to sneak in on the weekends when the club was packed. Anyway, I wanted to get rid of him before Bella noticed so I was trying to make it fast without having to call the cops. He fought back like a tiger each time but usually I beat him down real quick and he'd run off. This time. though, he brought his brothers. I'd never seen them before but I would never forget their faces. Before I knew it, one of them, the one with the scar down the side of his face, whipped a knife out and sliced open the palm of my hand. It was a really deep cut. There was blood everywhere. I jumped in a cab and went straight to the hospital. Needed thirty-seven stitches but I went back to work that night. Told Bella a pipe burst in my apartment and I fucked my hand up trying to fix it."
"And she bought it?"
Emmett grinned and nodded. He fished into his jacket and took out two joints. Handing one to me he motioned towards the exit and I followed him outside.
**
Freshly baked, I found my dad hanging out by the bar solo taking in his surroundings. Like father like son.
"Nicely done, dad. You owned the room tonight."
"Nonsense. But thank you."
"How much do you think we raised?"
"I'm sure in the neighborhood of two and a half million. Maybe more. If I know my colleagues, there were no shortages of bets on who would be crowned Most Generous."
He takes a long gulp from his tumbler of straight whiskey and motions to the stage.
"Are you going to get up there and play tonight?"
"I hadn't planned on it."
"That's a shame."
I open my mouth to give a sarcastic retort when Bella moves into our field of vision. My heart naturally skips a beat and I will her to look at me. She does and I give her a wink. Her face lights up and she waves before getting pulled back into the crowd by Rose.
"She's a beautiful girl," my father remarks.
"I know," I answer proudly.
"But she's not the one for you. She doesn't fit."
"Oh she fits." heheh.
"For Christ sakes, Edward, can you get your head out of your ass for five minutes? Start thinking with your head instead of your dick. She's the kind of girl you keep on the side. In private. On business trips when there's no one else around. Not the kind you have on your arm. You want to love her? Go ahead. No one is stopping you. But you don't show off a girl like that. You keep her hidden."
"You don't know her, dad. You don't know what you're talking about."
"I know more than you think. ...Her name was Magdalene. Still is, I'm sure. Although I haven't seen her in years. I haven't been to Buenos Aires since you were..."
"What the fuck are you saying??"
"I think you know exactly what I'm saying."
"What - what about mom? How could you do that to her?"
"Oh please, Edward. Your mother is no fool, and spare me your newly acquired saint routine. I've seen you with girls. I've watched you take them to your room and I've watched them leave in tears. You think because you've found some charity case who's blown your mind sexually that she's fit to take the Cullen name? Quit deluding yourself and embrace the life with Victoria that's ready at your fingertips."
"I don't want Victoria. How many times and in how many different ways do I have to say it? What's it going take to get through to you? To get through to everyone in this fucking room! To the journalists who keep coming up to me asking about my fucking wedding plans. Why do they still think I'm with her? Because even if I wasn't with Bella, I will never go back to her. Why won't you accept that? She has."
"Fine, fine, it doesn't matter. There are plenty of girls of Victoria's caliber worthy of your time. If not her than someone else. Dr. Clearwater's daughter, Leah, for example. She's a beauty and a Harvard School of Medicine graduate. A little older than you and far more mature, but I don't see..."
"Dad. Stop. I don't want to be set up with Leah Clearwater."
"Why must you be so difficult?" he snorts. "Look around you. You are my son. This is where you belong. You want to carouse around with the girls from the Lower East Side? Who work in bars? Go right ahead. They serve their purpose. But when you're through with them, you wake up with your wife, uptown in your penthouse apartment, where you belong."
"I belong with Bella."
He scrunches his eyes shut tight and sighs. "If you say so, but Edward? Son. May I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"Did you fuck Bella in the bathroom tonight?"
A gulp of scotch goes straight up my nose and I spend the next ten seconds coughing it up and wiping the tears from my eyes.
"What??" I spit.
"Answer the question."
I avert his gaze.
"That's what I thought. There you have it. She's an after hours plaything."
Before I can formulate a rude remark, a spindly Four Seasons employee rushes to my father's side.
"Sir, it's time for speeches."
My father nods and turns to me. "You're welcome to say a few words if you like, Edward. It is your right."
"Yeah well if I can come up with something profound to say about what they fuck you've actually done to deserve this in the next thirty seconds, I'll let you know."
"Very well," he sighs, refusing to give me the satisfaction of rattling him. "...Enjoy the rest of your evening."
My father thanks who he thinks he should and leaves out everyone related to him. The audience rises from their seats and applauds and I remain at the bar and continue to drink. It seems like an eternity since I've last seen Bella, since I last had her by my side. This evening has become an eternity and I'm ready for it to end.
I slide off the bar stool and stand on shaky legs. Shit. I've really had too much to drink. The pounding in my brain echoes in the room, the vibrant colors, the swirl of bodies assault my senses as I make my way towards the stage. People are standing. Society hags, divas, old money, new money. Dollar bills with hands. They're all clapping at my dad standing up there smiling. He won't be for long. I think I hear my name. It could be Rosalie. It could be my mom. I keep walking, weaving through the tables, my destination clear even if my vision isn't. There's a pull on my arm that I shake off without looking. I keep going. I find the stairs on the side of the stage and come face to face with my father walking down.
"Edward. I take it you've thought of something to say?" I smirk and shove pass him, tripping up the first step. The man helping my father down attempts to help me up but I shove past him too. I know my way to the microphone.
It's brighter up here than I expected. Why do they make it so you can't see out? There's only blackness and clapping as I approach the mike. The applause volume lowers and I clear my throat. Hmmm, maybe I should have thought this out better.
"Uh, hello. I'm Edward Cullen." There's a few stray hoots and whistles. The applause level increases but I still can't see anything. I put my hand to my eyes like a visor and peer into the abyss. I scan the audience, the people at the tables, those standing against the walls and in the back. Finally my eyes land on her. I found her. Sitting at the table two back from the stage with my sister and Emmett and some other lady I don't recognize. Sipping on a glass of white wine her cheeks are flushed. My girl is toasted.
"Bella!" I point and feedback fills the room. "There you are! Where'd you go? I missed you." She's laughing and shaking her head in shock, mouthing 'You're crazy' and looking around at everyone gawking at her. Rosalie looks petrified and Emmett gives me the 'keep going' thumbs up.
"Oh, um, sorry everyone. That's my girlfriend right there. Her name is Isabella Swan. Need me to spell that for you, New York Times dude? S-W-A-N. Isn't she the most gorgeous creature you've ever seen? I'm one lucky sonofabitch to have someone like her who puts up with the constant bullshit that surrounds my life. I just wanted to come up here and clarify that, because the status of my private life seems to be the only question you fucking reporters could come up with to ask me all night. So let me repeat for the record. Miss Isabella Swan, I love you, without reason or explanation, without boundary, without limit, with all my heart and with every inch of my soul. You are my one and only. Forever and always. Thank you for changing my life, and for saving it. Now let's get the hell out of here."
I jump off the stage and into her waiting arms. I dip her backwards and kiss her, passionately, unabashedly, with pride, and for all to see until she squeals a delightful squeal, her hands clinging to my back. They're clapping now. All of them. The cavernous room is vibrating with the sounds of their approval. Coming up for air I smile into her face and she tells me she loves my crazy ass and I take her hand and lead out the fuck out of there.
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