Author's Notes:
Many thanks to azure0610 for acting as beta for this story and to aerobee82 for pre-reading! I appreciate all your help!
Thank you so much to all of you who read and submit feedback. I look forward to your thoughts!
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
Chapter 35 – Epiphanies
BPOV
A million thoughts ran through my mind as I sat in the back of a jet black Mercedes, traveling through the city streets of Paris. The driver, a man who went solely by the name of Jenks, had been sent to retrieve me, courtesy of Melinda who'd arranged for me to be surreptitiously shuttled from the airport directly to the hospital. I was still in the dark as to what had happened. I hadn't had any contact with Edward since yesterday morning in New York. It was now a new day in Paris, nearing nine a.m. to be precise, and I wondered if Edward had stayed the night at the hospital. I was worried about him; he'd sounded so distraught over the phone and he was all alone, nobody there to stand by him in his time of need. Thankfully, that would all change in a matter of minutes.
Jenks pulled into the sprawling parking lot of The American Hospital in Paris and I was shocked at the number of news vehicles present, each with multiple reporters milling about. To my great relief, Jenks bypassed the main entrance, electing instead to drive through a security gate and around back where he threw the car into park and cut the ignition before instantly materializing beside my door.
"Ms. Swan, come with me please," he instructed as he swung open my door. I didn't miss the way his eyes expertly scanned the horizon, checking for any stray photographers who may have been hidden out of sight. He frowned when the recognizable whir of a helicopter drew near.
"Quickly, ma'am. We' don't want to draw any undue attention to your presence here."
I briefly wondered why before quickly determining that the authorities were probably remaining tight lipped about the situation. My presence here would surely alert them to the gravity of the situation, for why else would Edward Cullen's girlfriend travel to Paris immediately following the accident? I grabbed my messenger bag as Jenks mumbled something into his headpiece. He glared at me in annoyance, because apparently I was taking too much time, before shutting my door behind me and shuttling me indoors.
I immediately tensed upon entering the hospital, shuddering at the unwelcome memories of that dark night long ago, but I pushed them aside, knowing I was strong enough now to do so and, more importantly, that I had to focus on Edward. Edward was my priority now. He needed me in a manner in which he'd hadn't before, and I wanted to be there for him, to be strong for him and support him in his time of need.
"Right this way," Jenks ordered, his hand slipping behind my elbow as he guided me along the long, sterile corridor. Doctors and nurses in crisp white coats scurried about but they paid us little attention. At the end of the hall we entered an elevator and ascended to the fourth floor. The elevator dinged, and we exited directly into the intensive care unit where we immediately turned to the left without even so much as checking in with the nurse's station.
"Mr. Cullen's waiting in the room at the end of the hall. He hasn't left since yesterday afternoon," Jenks informed me, and for the briefest of moments his hardened veneer slipped, and I detected a distinct hint of sympathy in his otherwise dispassionate voice. I swallowed hard, equal parts excited and worried. I was happy to finally be seeing Edward again, but greatly preoccupied by what I might find. I tried to imagine what he might look like, but nothing could have prepared me for what I saw the moment I walked through the door. There Edward sat, both arms propped up on his knees. His face was covered by his hands and his fingers were roughly kneading his scalp… and by his side sat a smug Daniella, her arm wrapped firmly around his shoulders.
There were a lot of things I felt in that moment, standing there in the doorway, staring at Daniella and Edward. There was a part of me -a very small part - that was grateful that Edward was not alone. As much as I hated the fact that it was Daniella that sat his side, she was still a familiar face which I hoped he'd taken comfort in. But there was also another part of me, a baser part that struggled with the desire to claim Edward as my own. Daniella's hardened, narrowed gaze told me all I needed to know about her feeling for both me and Edward. It was obvious she still cared for him, as more than just a friend, and she clearly didn't care for me. But there was nothing that could be done about that now. Now was neither the time nor the place to call Daniella out. Instead, I focused on what mattered most…
Edward.
"Edward?" I whispered, my words cutting sharply through the somber silence. At the sound of my voice, Edward's head snapped upwards, his shadowed, sorrowful eyes wide with disbelief.
"Bella?" He gasped. A tremulous sigh escaped his lips as he slipped from Daniella's grip and quickly moved towards me, pulling me into his hungry arms.
"Wh…what are you doing here?" He struggled to say. Edward's voice was thick with barely controlled emotion as he squeezed me tightly to him. I hugged him back, nestling my face into the crook of his neck and kissing the soft skin just beneath his throat.
"I took the first flight out of New York. I couldn't let you go through this by yourself," I murmured. "I sent you a text, didn't you see?" I pulled back a bit from our embrace to study Edward's weary face. It was the first chance I'd had to really look at him and the sight before me broke my heart. Edward's bleary eyes were noticeably swollen and rimmed with red, and his five o'clock shadow – a shadow I normally loved, spoke of a long night spent in a hospital waiting room.
"My phone died," Edward said while shaking his head. "But Jesus… I'm so glad you're here. I really need you right now."
"I know, baby. That's why I came," I said while folding him into my arms once again. "How …how is she?" I cautiously asked.
"There's no change. She's still in critical condition." Daniella's sharp response rang out, answering my question before Edward had a chance to. "And Edward hasn't been alone," she bitterly added. "I came to the hospital as soon as I heard. I stayed with him all though the night."
I stiffened in Edward's arms at Daniella's words, shocked by the tone of her voice. Did she really want to get into it here…now? I refused to stoop to her level of shameless goading and instead thanked her stiffly. At that same moment, Jenks cleared his throat, and it wasn't until he spoke that I even remembered he was in the room.
"I've just got word from Ronald. Melinda's plane has landed and she'll be here momentarily. More press has arrived, so Ronald's advised us all to stay put," Jenks relayed. Edward nodded wearily before taking my hand in his and leading me back to the small grouping of chairs set against the back wall. It didn't escape my notice that he sat several seats down from Daniella.
"Where's Ronald?" I asked, wondering why he wasn't there with the rest of us or, for that matter, why he hadn't picked me up from the airport.
"He's downstairs doing his best to help manage the media circus," Edward answered with a defeated sigh while shaking his head slowly back and forth. He slipped his hand from mine then, running it up through his thick hair and tugging it roughly, a clear indication he was completely overwhelmed. "God, this is a fucking nightmare. If only I hadn't reached for that woman's hand, that little girl might not have been crushed," Edward lamented. I hated that he was berating himself, but I really didn't know how to respond because I was still in the dark as to what exactly happened. I was going to ask Edward when Daniella stood from her seat and strode to Edward's side. She sat down and looked me directly in the eye as she rested her palm on Edward's arm.
"Hey," she softly comforted. "This wasn't your fault. You have to stop blaming yourself for something you had no control over. It was the same situation when the stage collapsed in the mall a few years back. It was an unfortunate incident, but neither one of us could have prevented it. If anyone's to blame, it's the studio for not providing enough security," Daniella reasoned. And while every fiber of my being told me not to trust her I at least tried to appreciate her efforts to console Edward when he was so visibly distraught. Edward sighed, removing his hand from his hair and gingerly taking my own once more.
"Edward? Could you maybe tell me what happened?" I quietly asked. I really wanted to offer him words of reassurance too, but I didn't want to presume anything about the accident. Edward opened his mouth as if to speak, but just as he did the door to the small waiting room swung open and a tall, older looking gentleman robed in a crisp white coat eased himself inside. Edward stood, moving quickly to the front of the room, anxious for any new news.
"Dr. Moreau, how is she? Has there been any change?" Edward inquired in a rush, his voice taking on a subtle pleading tone towards the end. It was as if he thought his firm desire for the little girl to be all right might miraculously manifest itself in the form of good news.
Dr. Moreau slowly shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Cullen. I've just spoken with Amélie's mother and father and I wish I had better news to offer, but due to the degree of swelling in Amélie's brain, we decided it was necessary to induce a coma. We don't know how long we'll need to keep her under for, but as of this moment, this is her best defense against further damage being done."
I noticed Edward's hand trembling slightly by his side and I immediately stood, moving quickly to take it in mine. Edward squeezed my hand limply before making introductions.
"Dr. Moreau, this is my girlfriend, Isabella Swan. She's just arrived from the United States. Bella, this is Dr. Claude Moreau, head of emergency medicine here at The American Hospital of Paris."
"Nice to meet you, sir," I said while extending my hand. The friendly greeting seemed oddly out of place given the circumstances.
"Likewise Ms. Swan," Dr. Moreau nodded at me, offering me a slight smile as he gripped my hand.
"Have they changed their minds? Are Amélie's parents willing to meet with me yet?" Edward hopefully inquired, but Dr. Moreau just shook his head. My heart constricted tightly in my chest as Edward's face fell.
"I'm sorry, son. They appreciate the fact you've stayed and they've authorized me to give you updates, but they're not taking any visitors right now. Immediate family only," Dr. Moreau explained with a sympathetic air.
"Edward," Daniella said while sidling up to him on his other side. Her hand found purchase on his arm where she squeezed it lightly before letting it go. "Perhaps it's for the better. There's a certain protocol to be followed in these types of situations. I'm sure Melinda…"
Edward wheeled around and glared at Daniella, his cold, hardened stare effectively cutting her off.
"I don't give a damn about protocol, Daniella," he seethed. "Do you understand me? Not a god damned thing. There's a little girl just through those doors who is fighting for her life all because people were clamoring to see me. Me, Daniella…me!" He cried while pointing a finger at the center of his chest. "Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?"
Daniella flinched at the harsh tone of Edward's voice and I could see that he was very quickly losing control. Edward hardly ever cracked under pressure, but he was clearly exhausted, emotionally and physically, and I wasn't sure how much more he could take. I wondered absently when he'd last slept.
"Edward," I quietly called his name while stepping forward to wrap my fingers around his wrist. I began rubbing tiny circles in the center of his palm and his notably tense body slowly started to relax.
"Fuck…I'm…I'm sorry, Daniella. I didn't mean to yell at you," he muttered a few moments later while running his hands up through his hair. "I just…I feel like I'm losing my mind here."
"Baby, I know you're not going to want to hear this, but maybe we should to go back to the hotel. You can take a hot shower and try and get some rest," I gently suggested. "We can come back to the hospital later."
"She's right, Mr. Cullen. You've been here for nearly twenty-four hours straight. It's not likely Amélie's condition will change over the course of the next several hours…days, even, if I'm being completely honest. In the mean time, you'd do well to take care of yourself. You'll be of more use to everybody if you're rested and alert," Dr. Moreau said.
Jenks, who had remained quiet throughout most of our conversation, suddenly spoke up.
"Melinda's here," he relayed while pressing two fingers against the tiny microphone in his ear. "She's giving a brief statement to the media below before coming up."
"Very well," Dr. Moreau nodded at Jenks before turning back to face Edward and me. "If you'll excuse me, I've been awaiting your publicist's arrival. I'll only take a moment to debrief her before sending her your way." Edward nodded wearily, his eyes momentarily falling closed as he heaved a deep sigh.
"Come," I said quietly, while tugging gently on Edward's hand. I led him back to the chairs and together we sat and waited for Melinda to arrive.
Several hours later, I led a very weary Edward into his hotel room. I told him to go into his room and start a shower while I ordered us some room service. I was starving. I hadn't eaten in almost as many hours as Edward hadn't slept, and I knew that if I didn't eat something soon I was in danger of passing out. I hadn't been hungry on the plane, nor had I wanted anything at the hospital. But now that we were back in the hotel room, at least partially removed from the stress of the situation, hunger pains hit me full force. I ordered something light, two salads with an assortment of cheese and fruit, before digging into Edward's messenger bag to retrieve his phone. He'd need it to be charged so that Melinda could be in constant contact with us, but I doubted if he'd remember to do it himself.
Withdrawing his phone from the bag, curiosity got the best of me and I decided to try and turn it on. It wasn't like Edward to let his battery run down. In fact, ever since he'd arrived in Paris, we'd both made it a point to have our phones charged and with us at all times. Because of this, it struck me as odd that his had died. Not surprisingly, the phone sprung to life after I depressed the on button for several moments.
"Hey, Edward?" I called. I received a mumbled response in reply.
"Your phone isn't dead."
Edward popped his head out from behind the door, his naked chest causing stirrings deep within my gut. But I pushed those thoughts aside. Even though we hadn't seen each other in weeks, we were both completely exhausted. I was fairly certain Edward would collapse on top of me if we even tried to be intimate. This didn't stop me from staring at his partially unbuttoned jeans, however, nor did it keep me from imagining tracing my finger along the trail of soft hair that disappeared inside.
"Hmm," he said while scratching his head in bewilderment. "It must have accidentally turned off inside my bag," he supposed while stifling a large yawn with the back of his hand.
That, or somebody turned it off, I silently mused. I hated to think like that, but Daniella had been anything but friendly to me in the hospital and my guard was definitely up.
"Well, I've turned it back on. I'll bring it into the room with me when I come in. I'm just going to send a quick e-mail to Alice to confirm the boarding details for Johann. I left in such a rush I didn't have time to drop him off."
"All right," Edward said, smiling softly at me. It didn't quite reach his eyes, but I didn't expect it to. Edward was entirely preoccupied with Amélie right now and I knew he wouldn't be able to relax until he knew definitively she'd be all right…if she'd be all right.
Edward walked back into the bedroom and I set about e-mailing Alice. Before I knew it, twenty minutes had passed and there was a soft knock at the door. I'd almost forgotten about our food but my stomach reminded me how hungry I was as I rooted through my bag for my wallet. Pulling a ten dollar bill from the folds, I realized I hadn't yet had a chance to exchange my dollars for Euros. Luckily, the serviceman didn't seem to mind. I signed for our food and handed over the tip before pulling the cart inside and shutting the door behind me.
It struck me then that I hadn't yet heard the shower running, so I walked across the room and peeked in on Edward only to find him passed on out his stomach, lying crosswise atop the bed. I watched him for a moment, his wild copper hair flopping lazily into his eyes, his lean, sculpted back gently rising and falling with every breath he took, before switching off the lights and gently pulling the covers out from underneath him. He stirred slightly and slipped underneath the sheets then murmured my name as he reached for me. Completely disregarding my grumbling stomach, I lay down beside him, pulling him to me and folding him into my arms. Holding him in the same manner in which he always held me, I quickly fell asleep.
Sometime after midnight I was roused awake by the feel of warm, strong hands roaming freely about my body. I blinked my eyes as sleep fell away, slightly disoriented by my surroundings until Edward's face came into focus.
"Hey," he breathed, smiling softly at me from where he lay beside me.
"Hey," I croaked, my voice cracking on the single syllable. I had been fast asleep and wasn't yet entirely awake.
"Take these off," Edward gently instructed, tugging softly at my clothes. His eyes held mine in a pointed gaze and I immediately rose from the bed to do his bidding. Soon I stood naked, and it wasn't until I had slipped back under the sheets that I realized that Edward was naked now too. As I molded my body against his, Edward's hands started exploring again. I lay still, gently combing my fingers through his hair and pulling it away from his eyes.
"I've missed you," he breathed as his hand skimmed down my thigh. His fingers paused beneath my knee, tracing small, geometric designs on the sensitive skin there before trailing down my calf and back up again. I shivered under his touch and Edward smiled down at me tenderly.
"I've missed you, too," I said, though the words weren't really necessary. Edward's hand moved smoothly up my back then, his fingers tangling into the hair at the base of my neck as he gently kneaded the muscles there. I sighed, leaning in to place a small kiss to the edge of his lips and Edward reciprocated, teasing my lips open with his tongue as he kissed me softly. We lay together for awhile, kissing and touching, and though I could feel his arousal pressing firmly against my stomach, neither one of us seemed inclined to do anything more than just touch. Edward eventually pulled away and rested his forehead against mine. Opening my eyes, I could see his own were troubled, the beautiful green I loved so much muddied now by worry.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, taking his face in both my hands. I rubbed my thumbs back and forth against his sandpaper skin and he sighed under my touch. Despite the fact I'd been in Paris for nearly half a day's time, Edward and I had yet to discuss what happened. I knew it was important for him to talk about it, but I also didn't want to push him too hard.
Edward shrugged.
"There's not much to talk about. Security's been shit here in Paris, you know that. Of course, I don't think the organizers were expecting quite so large a turn out at the event. It was a small book signing, for Christ's sake, but people had apparently been lined up outside for over twenty-four hours."
I shook my head. Even after all our months together, it was sometimes still hard for me to wrap my head around the level of hysteria that surrounded Edward.
"Only a certain number were allowed in and I knew there were a lot of disappointed fans, so afterwards, I asked if I could go outside and at least shake some hands," Edward continued to explain. "I realize now that was a mistake."
"Why?"
"There wasn't sufficient crowd control," Edward answered me, shaking his head sadly. "It was complete and total chaos, Bella. Ronald told me to shake a few hands near the front of the line but to keep moving towards the alley alongside the building where he'd already parked the car. I did as he asked while shaking a few hands here and there, but the crowd was so worked up, it was impossible to just pass by. Soon I started to feel overwhelmed. I just…I didn't know what to do to please everybody. And I wanted to please them, Bella. I wanted to shake each and every one of their hands because they'd been standing outside and waiting for me for so long…"
"Baby, no matter what you do, you'll never be able to please everybody," I said while gently stroking the sides of his face. "Besides, I think most everyone who attends those types of events realizes there's a very slim chance they'll actually get to meet you. They just want a chance to see you in person."
"I know," Edward sullenly replied. "I just…I feel like there are these expectations of me…"
"Expectations you can't possibly live up to, nor are you obligated to fulfill," I reminded him gently. Edward nodded in acknowledgement, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before continuing.
"We'd almost reached the end of the line when it happened," he said, his voice quivering in the slightest as he remembered back to the traumatic turn of events. "There was a woman a bit further back in the crowd. She was crying…she had tears streaming down her face, Bella, and she was reaching her hand out toward mine. I…I didn't realize Amélie was behind her, I'm not so sure she did either. All I know is that I wanted so desperately to make her wait worth her while. I just wanted to shake her hand, goddamn it, but when I reached out, the crowd surged forward in a rush. There was sudden chaos and screaming, and the barricades separating me from the crowd were threatening to give way. Ronald grabbed me by the arm and pulled me out of harm's way, but not before I heard the strangled cry of a woman, screaming that a child had been hurt."
Edward buried his head in the crook of my neck then, a series of small shudders shaking his large frame as silent tears fell from his eyes. He curled himself against me and we lay there quietly while I gently combed my fingers through his hair. Presently, Edward sighed, and when he next spoke, it was in a voice so small and broken my heart ached to do whatever was necessary to make his pain go away.
"I feel responsible for what happened, Bella. I feel like it's my fault," he quietly admitted. He moved away from me in order to look me in the eyes then and the pain and remorse I very clearly saw in his own reminded me of my own oppressive guilt. I swallowed thickly, struggling hard to find the right words to say to absolve him of his guilt. It wasn't Edward's fault. I knew this with absolute certainty. Sometimes things just happened over which we had no control. Sometimes things happened - people were inadvertently hurt in restless crowds, lives were lost in automobile accidents…I froze at that unexpected thought, my heart thundering madly in my chest and dampness welling in the corners of my eyes.
"Bella?" Edward worriedly asked.
"Gi…give me a minute, will you?" I quietly requested. Edward nodded his head and I closed my eyes, taking a moment to wrap my head around my previous thoughts, most importantly, around whether or not I truly believed the idea that sometimes things just happened. Did they? I'd shouldered the burden of guilt over my mother and brother's deaths for so long it was hard for me to convince myself of this. It was so difficult for me to accept the fact that no matter what I did, whether I would have allowed Daniel to sit in the front seat of the car or attempted to climb the mountain to seek help for my mother, I probably could not have saved their lives. Daniel was younger and much smaller than me, so chances are he wouldn't have survived even if he was seated up front. And my mother? I was fairly certain that she never would have survived the time it would have taken me to climb to the top of the mountain to look for help.
Sometimes things just happened…..
"Edward," I began slowly. "What if I told you that it wasn't your fault? What if I told you that I believed with all my heart that there are things that happen that we try and make sense of or take responsibility for but in truth, we really can't."
Edward swallowed thickly, a knowing look clearly written on his solemn face as he studied my own intently. He knew the significance of what I was saying, knew the worth of my words and that they not only had the power to absolve him, but me as well. And if it had been any other person telling him this, assuring him he wasn't to blame, I was certain he wouldn't have believed them. But it wasn't any other person, it was me.
"You…you really believe that?" He asked, and I knew I could be nothing less than completely honest with him. It wouldn't be fair to him…or me, if I wasn't.
"Yes," I whispered softly, nodding my head and reaching up to wipe at an errant tear that slipped unbidden from my eye.
"Oh, Bella," he murmured while gathering me into his arms and holding me close, and no other words were spoken. No other words were necessary, really. I'd said all I could to try and ease Edward's conscience. Both he and I knew he'd continue to be anxious until we received further word on Amélie's condition, but until then, I hoped my words would grant him at least a small amount of solace.
The next several days passed by in a blur. Amélie's condition remained unchanged and Edward had, at Melinda's insistence, reluctantly gone back to work. Scheduling was tight on this film and Edward's late arrival on set three weeks prior more or less dictated that every day would be spent working. I visited Edward on set once daily, but I tried not to linger too long so as not to be a distraction. Instead, I kept busy by visiting the Louvre and other famous museums, and strolling through the streets of Paris.
Surprisingly, Daniella had been lying low ever since my arrival. In fact, I'd yet to see her since leaving the hospital, although the same didn't hold true for Edward. She had passed by the set to see him on several occasions, but he said she didn't stay long and that she only wanted to see how he was doing. Despite this, I was still wary of Daniella. She'd already proven herself a wolf in sheep's clothing, and judging from the looks she'd given me the morning of my arrival, she still didn't stray far from that mark. Add to that the curious fact that she hadn't yet left Paris, despite the fact she had been scheduled to fly out days before, and I remained on guard, worried a confrontation was all but imminent.
It was early in the afternoon on the third day after I'd arrived, and I was sitting in a chaise in the middle of the small living room of Edward's suite. There still hadn't been any change in Amélie's condition. I was trying to remain optimistic, as her condition hadn't worsened, but Edward was growing increasingly anxious, waiting impatiently for a call from the hospital telling us everything was going to be okay. Today, he and Melinda, together with Amélie's primary attending physician and father, were attending an official press conference to discuss her current condition. National and international interest in the story was high, but while Melinda had briefly addressed the press on the day of her arrival, this was the first time Edward would be appearing before them. He was nervous in the morning, worried he might not be able to hold it together if tough questions were asked. Our talk several nights prior had helped, but I knew there was a part of him that still felt responsible for what happened. Only time or Amélie's recovery would change that.
My phone rang and I picked it up, assuming it was either Edward or Alice calling. Instead, I was surprised to see Xavier's name flash across the screen. I hesitated for a moment before answering, hit by a sudden wave of guilt. I hadn't yet spoken to Xavier since arriving in Paris.
"Hello?"
"Ma chérie? Is that you?" He tentatively asked.
"Hi, Xavier. How are you?"
"Oh, I'm doing well, thank you. I was actually calling to see how Edward was. I heard about the terrible accident with that poor young girl and I wanted to know how he was handling everything."
I sighed into the phone. Xavier's concern for Edward was touching and at that moment, very much appreciated. It was nice to know he cared enough to call.
"He's doing all right, Xavier. Thanks for asking. I'm actually here in Paris with him right now."
"You are?" He replied, sounding genuinely surprised.
"I am, and I'm sorry for not calling you before now. I've thought about it on several occasions, but as you might expect, things have been pretty crazy," I answered back apologetically.
"Of course, ma chérie. I understand," he soothed and the sympathetic tone of his voice told me I had nothing to apologize for. There was a moment's pause on the line and then Xavier spoke again, this time inviting me to meet him for coffee at a favorite shop of his off of the Avenue des Champs-Élysées. I was a little hesitant at first, thinking it would be best for me to wait in the room for Edward to return from his press conference. But then I reasoned that it would be several hours before that happened and in the mean time, I'd be sitting there all alone with nothing to do.
"That would be nice, Xavier," I said, graciously accepting his invitation. "To tell you the truth, I could use a little bit of company to help me take my mind off things."
"Then it's settled," he said. "I'll see you soon, Bella."
"See you soon," I echoed back before hanging up the line.
As I strolled down the Avenue des Champs-Élysées on my way to meet Xavier, I couldn't help but note that I was actually looking forward to seeing him. There had been a noticeable shift in our relationship over the course of the last few months to the point where I now found myself wanting to pursue a relationship with him. This was not to say that I didn't still harbor hurt feelings over the decisions he and my mother had made, but whether it was my progress in therapy, Edward's gentle urging or my father's blessing bestowed on me just days before, I was now open to the idea of getting to know Xavier. He was my biological father after all, and another connection to my mother. He would never replace Charlie; I knew that for a fact. But I was beginning to realize that he didn't have to. Ours could be a relationship born purely out of friendship and mutual respect, and, of course, our shared passion for music. To this end, I was excited to learn more about him. I'd been blown away by his Christmas gift to me and I realized that there was so much about him that I didn't know. For example, what had driven him to learn to play the cello? Did he come from a musical family? If so, did anybody else in his family play the cello? What had he learned under the tutelage of Pablo Casals? I wanted to know all of these things…all of these things and more.
Xavier was seated outdoors at a small table for two when I arrived. He was dressed casually in jeans and a lightweight cashmere sweater and he smiled warmly at me as I approached.
"Ma chérie," he murmured as he stood from where he was sitting. He held his arms out to me and I walked up to him, standing on tiptoe to kiss both of his cheeks before wrapping my arms around him and giving him a gentle squeeze. "I'm so glad to see you," he whispered into my hair.
"I'm glad to see you to," I replied honestly before taking my seat opposite him. I noticed there was a plate of pastries sitting in the center of the table and a steaming cup of coffee too.
"I took the liberty of ordering for you. I hope that's okay. I ordered the coffee black but there's cream and sugar if you please," Xavier said, motioning to the contents of the table with his hand.
"What if I didn't drink coffee?" I teased, and Xavier's brows shot up in surprise.
"You don't drink coffee?" He asked, as if the idea alone was sheer blasphemy.
"I'm kidding," I laughed softly, and I noted an amused grin tugging at his lips. "I practically live on the stuff."
Xavier sighed. "There's much that we don't know about each other, Bella," he mused as he fingered a packet of sugar on the table.
"There is," I thoughtfully agreed. "But I…I think I'm ready for that to change," I said shyly, and what was before a shadow of a grin on Xavier's face was now a radiant smile. I couldn't help but smile in return.
"That makes me very happy," he said, and my smile widened.
"So, how's your hand?" Xavier asked as he lifted his cup to his lips and took a sip of his coffee.
"Doing much better, thank you. It's only been six weeks since surgery but I'm already playing again."
"Oh, really? How's that going?"
"Slow," I laughed. "But it gets easier each day. I'm hopeful I'll make a full recovery, but my muscles are still frustratingly weak," I admitted.
"May I?" Xavier requested while reaching across the table and taking my hand in his. I nodded my approval and he proceeded to carefully examine it, gently manipulating each individual finger in much the same way my physical therapist in New York did.
"You're flexibility is good," he murmured. "Much better than I would have expected; there's very little in the way of stiffness. But I can feel the weakness you speak of." Xavier placed gentle pressure on my fore and middle fingers, the ones used to apply pressure to and help pivot the bow. There wasn't much resistance there. "Have you tried manipulating a pencil as means of strengthening the muscles?" He asked, and I smiled as I remembered my mother asking me to do the very same thing as a small child.
"I have," I said. "Mom used to have me do that all the time."
"Ah ha," he chuckled softly. "She learned that from me. I, in turn, learned it from my grandfather."
"Your grandfather? Really? Was he a cellist too?"
"Oui, oui, ma chérie, and a very talented one at that." Xavier replied, and he and I spent the next several hours chatting about his grandfather, who, it turned out, mostly raised him and his two younger brothers who were also musicians. Before I knew it, evening was knocking at the door. Edward called to let me know he was back at the hotel and I told Xavier I needed to get back to him. Before leaving though, I asked if he might have any pictures of his family that he could share with me another time. Xavier seemed thrilled by my request and he nodded at me, telling me he'd be delighted to. His face grew pensive then, and I was wondering what might have come over him when he withdrew a small photograph from his bag.
"Bella," he began, addressing me softly. "Before you go, I brought something with me that I thought you might like. I've treasured this for many years. It's a photograph of your mother playing Shostakovich's first cello concerto with the Orchestre National de France. It was a brilliant performance, and, as you can see in the picture, she positively shined the entire way through," he said, his eyes glazing over with sentiment as he momentarily relived the memory. I gratefully accepted the photograph, taking a moment to examine it before carefully tucking it away in my bag.
"You remind me so much of her when you play," Xavier murmured, and I closed my eyes at the rush of emotions that coursed through me.
"Thank you," I breathed, reaching up to wipe at the wetness that was pooling in my eyes.
"It's my pleasure, chérie."
When I walked through the door of the hotel room a little while later, all was still and quiet. The lights were weren't on and I was beginning to think that Edward had left when I heard a soft hum emanating from the room beyond. I called Edward's name, but there was no answer, so I crossed the small sitting room and entered the bedroom only to find Edward propped lazily against the headboard, a pile of pillows at his back and ear buds in his ears. I recognized the tune he was humming now; it was the second movement from Beethoven's 7th Symphony. I slid in beside Edward and he startled for a moment, obviously not having realized I was there, before offering me a small half smile and an ear bud.
"Care to listen?" He murmured.
"Of course," I said as I took the proffered ear bud and settled in beside him. Edward's arm fell around my shoulders as together we listened to the music. "You know, Beethoven himself said this movement was one of his best works. It had to be encored at the symphony's premiere."
"That's not surprising," Edward said. "The contrast between the volume and intensity really holds the listener's attention. Do you know if he was deaf when he composed it?"
I nodded my head.
"He was. In fact, he began to lose his hearing before he ever composed a single symphony. By the time he composed the 7th Symphony in 1811, he'd been going deaf for fourteen years."
Edward chuckled softly, squeezing me to him and leaning in to kiss the top of my head. "You're a veritable encyclopedia of information, did you know that?"
"Why do you say that?" I laughed, a small smile spreading slowly across my face.
"You know the year a specific symphony of Beethoven's was composed," Edward pointed out.
"Please," I playfully scoffed. "I know the specific year each of his ten symphonies was composed. Any self respecting music major would."
"Symphony No. 4," Edward teased good-humoredly, issuing me a friendly challenge.
"1806," I replied without even having to think about it.
"Symphony No. 6."
"The very lovely Pastoral Symphony was completed in 1808. You know it has five movements as opposed to four," I added, as this broke from the standard four movement symphonic form of the classical era.
"I didn't know that," Edward momentarily mused before offering forth yet another challenge.
"Symphony No. 10."
I sighed, feigning boredom with a fake yawn. "Well, he started work on it in 1824, but only the first movement was written in any great detail. He never finished it, but he did finish the 9th Symphony in the same year."
Edward harrumphed.
"Symphony No. 1."
I rolled my eyes. "Are you serious?" I asked, tilting my head upward so that I could look at his face. "Do you really think you can trip me up?" Edward stifled a laugh.
"Yes to the first question," he managed through a barely contained grin. "And I wish, to the second," he said, his laughter finally breaking free. I playfully slapped at his chest.
"No. 1 was composed in 1799, though there are supposedly sketches of the finale dating back to 1795. No. 2 was composed in 1801. No. 3, otherwise known as Eroica, was completed in 1804 and No. 5, one of the most popular and best known compositions in classical music, was composed over a period of four years between 1804 and 1808. Did I miss any of them?"
"No. 8," Edward teased, and in a completely unexpected move, he flipped me over, onto his chest.
"1812; are you happy now?" I laughed as he encircled me with his arms.
"Yes, very," he murmured while running his hand up and down my back. I smiled down at him, his face as happy and relaxed as I'd seen it since I arrived. It didn't stay that way for long, though. Soon it fell, his eyes clouding over with worry once again. I reached out and lovingly stroked the side of his face with my hand. Edward leaned into me, sighing at my touch.
"You haven't told me how things went today."
Edward shrugged.
"It went as well as can be expected, I guess. I just wish we had better news to announce."
"I know, baby. Did her doctors have anything new to say?"
Edward shook his head.
"Not really. She's more or less the same. The swelling continues to go down, but she's still in a coma."
"Well, I think it's a good sign the swelling's going down, isn't it?"
"I guess."
"Hey," I said while gently brushing his hair from his eyes. "Let's try and think positive."
"It's hard," Edward whispered sadly.
"I know it is, but let's at least try, okay?"
Edward stared at me for a moment before slowly nodding his head.
"Okay. I'm sorry; I don't mean to be so morose."
"It's okay, I understand."
"I know you do. I can't tell you what it means to me you're here with me right now. I'd be a complete wreck without you," Edward admitted while holding my gaze with his own. I smiled softly at him, the fingers of my right hand combing through his hair.
"You've been there for me since the moment we met. Now it's my turn to be there for you," I replied and Edward pulled me into a hug. His arms held me tight as he buried his face in my hair and we lay together a little while, the sounds of Beethoven's 9th Symphony passing between us.
"So, why Beethoven?" I asked after a few minute's time.
"Hmm?" Edward mumbled, sounding as if he was on the verge of falling asleep.
"Beethoven…is there any particular reason you were listening to him?" I wondered. Edward studied my face for a moment before cautiously answering my question.
"I was giving some thought as to whether or not I'm going to accept the role in his biopic."
"I was hoping you'd say that," I sheepishly admitted and Edward's brows arched upwards.
"Really? I mean, I know we haven't talked much about it, but I know I told you I was going to take a break after the werewolf trilogy wraps. If I accept this role, I'll be filming in Europe for most of the fall. We'd be separated…again."
"Well," I began slowly. "Maybe I could come with you." This caught Edward completely off guard and he shifted me off his chest and onto my side. He rolled to face me then, his eyes probing mine for answers.
"Bella, what are you saying? What about your responsibilities in New York? What about graduate school?"
I shrugged.
"Priorities change," I said, and I lay quietly for a moment, carefully considering my next words before finally giving up and just putting it out there.
"Edward, what if I told you I wanted to stay with you…here…now."
"What?" He practically gasped. "I thought we were talking about the fall..."
"We were…we are," I stammered. I'd given a lot of thought to this decision over the course of the last couple of days, but Edward hadn't been privy to those thoughts so it was understandable that he was surprised. I only hoped there was a part of him that was happy too…a part of him that wanted this as much as I did. "But I'm also talking about the here and now. I want to stay with you in Paris."
Edward stared at me, eyes wide open and mouth completely agape.
"Bella…" he began slowly. "I…I wasn't expecting this. Don't get me wrong…I'm thrilled you want to stay, but I feel like I asked you to come to Paris with me a hundred times over and you always said no. Why have you suddenly changed your mind? What about school?"
The questions were rolling off Edward's tongue faster than he could properly articulate them and I laughed softly, reaching out to cup his face in my hand.
"Slow down, baby," I said while gently rubbing his cheek with my thumb. "I know we haven't had much of a chance to talk about this, but I've decided not to continue with my studies this semester."
If I'd caught Edward off guard before, I'd completely blindsided him now. "I'm sorry," I hastened to say. "I wasn't trying to keep things from you. I was going to talk to you about it but then the accident happened and I rushed over here and…well…the timing just hasn't been right."
"Bella, I'm…I'm a little bit shocked, to say the least. You've always been adamant that you wanted to finish your degree, and I completely understand why. You've worked so hard and accomplished so much; I don't want you tossing everything aside just to stay with me. I appreciate it, truly I do, but I…I can't let you do that. It wouldn't be right."
"Edward," I began very seriously while leveling my eyes at him. "First off, I wouldn't be tossing everything aside. I've spoken with Elizabeth about this and she fully supports my decision. In fact, she's the one that suggested I take some time off. Secondly, I wouldn't be staying for you…I'd be staying for us. It wasn't so long ago you said those exact same words to me, remember? The thing is I didn't trust your judgment then. I worried you wanted to stay for the wrong reasons… because you felt you had to, not because you wanted to. But I understand now that wasn't the case. I don't want to stay with you because I feel I have to or that you wouldn't be okay without me. Despite what's happened, you're a strong man, Edward, and I know that no matter how things play out, you'll be fine. The thing is, I really don't want to be without you and I realize now I don't have to be. We don't have to be an ocean apart, baby. We can stay here, together, until you're through filming. And afterwards, well… I'll travel to the Midwest with you and finish out the trilogy by your side… if you'd like."
Edward looked at me as if I'd grown a third eye and honestly, I wondered if maybe I had. I wasn't exactly sure where all of this was coming from, but I felt more certain than ever that this was the right decision. Edward and I belonged together right now. Distance from each other would do neither one of us any good. We were both drowning in our own lives right now, but with each other, we could hold tight to a preserver. And once we'd managed to make it ashore, well maybe then we could figure out exactly how things were going to work, how we were going to balance both our personal and professional goals and aspirations. But right now, what was most important was staying together because together we were managing to sort through and make sense of lives that didn't make much sense to us before.
"Please, baby," I whispered softly as my thumb stroked absently against his face. "I know I didn't have enough faith in your ability to make the right decision before and I'm so sorry for that. But I'm asking you now to have that faith in me. I want to stay," I said confidently. "I want to stay in Paris with you."
"What about therapy…your hand? Olivia?" He pushed, and I could see it in his eyes that he so desperately wanted me to stay, but he was worried about me and the sacrifices I would have to make in order to do that.
"I can phone conference with Olivia, and in all of Paris, there must be somebody who can work with my hand. Xavier might even be able to recommend someone," I suggested, and that seemed to do the trick.
"Okay," he relented, a slow smile spreading across his face.
"Really?" I pressed, just to be sure, and Edward pulled me to him, burying his face in my hair and whispering in my ear.
"Really."
Several weeks later, Edward was in the bedroom getting dressed, after which he had plans to meet Daniella for lunch. Daniella was still in Paris. She'd stayed on after I arrived, purportedly to be of additional support to Edward, and I had to say, her behavior over the course of these past few weeks had been relatively benign. Of course she had neglected to invite me to lunch today, but I didn't mind. I had plans with Xavier anyway, and they were infinitely more appealing to me than passing the lunch hour with Daniella.
Edward's cell rang just as he stepped out of the bedroom, shoes in hand. It was Melinda, and I knew immediately from her tone of voice that something had happened.
"Bella, where's Edward?" She breathlessly asked.
"He's here, getting ready to meet Daniella for lunch," I quickly answered.
"I think he's going to want to stop by the hospital first," Melinda excitedly said. "It's Amélie…she's finally woken up!"
"Oh my God!" I practically squealed.
"What?" Edward looked up at me from where he sat on the couch putting his shoes on, decidedly alarmed.
"Edward, it's Melinda…Amélie's awake!" Edward's eyes shot open in surprise.
"She is?"
I nodded my head enthusiastically and he quickly stood and moved to my side.
"How is she? Is she going to be okay?" He eagerly asked. I didn't know the answers to those questions so I handed over the phone so he could talk to Melinda himself. Twenty minutes later, we were on our way to the hospital.
Upon our arrival at the hospital, Ronald ushered Edward and I in through the same entrance Jenks and I had used the day I arrived. Once upstairs, I waited with Melinda while Edward met with Amélie and her parents in the intensive care unit. We'd learned from the doctors that Amélie wasn't yet out of the woods. There were still several series of tests scheduled in order to determine whether or not she had sustained any permanent brain damage. But they assured us that her spontaneous awakening from a comatose state was the surest sign yet she was on the road to recovery. The swelling had all but subsided now, and if the tests results were good, it was possible she would be released from the hospital in less than a week.
"Bella?" Melinda called my name from where she sat in a chair caddy corner to mine.
"Hmm?" I murmured as she came to sit by my side.
"I just want to thank you for standing by Edward through all of this. You probably don't realize what a support you've been to him but you have, and I'm grateful to you for that. "
"He does the same for me, Melinda. It's what two people who love each other do," I said while shrugging my shoulders.
Melinda stared at me in quiet contemplation for a moment before casting me a soft smile. "You're very good for each other, Bella," she said with a nod of her head. "I must admit I had my doubts in the beginning, but I shouldn't have." Melinda reached out to gently squeeze my arm then and I smiled back at her in appreciation.
"Thank you, Melinda," I murmured just as Edward walked through the door, and Melinda and I both redirected our attention at him.
"How is she?" I eagerly asked as I rose to my feet and walked towards him. Edward drew me in his arms and held me tightly while exhaling a deep sigh of relief.
"She's…she's weak, but astonishingly coherent. The doctor's are cautiously optimistic she's going to be okay."
"Oh, Edward," I sighed as I gently rubbed up and down his back. "I'm so happy she's okay."
"Me, too," he agreed while giving me a final squeeze. He released me then and after chatting with Melinda for a few minutes we departed the hospital, each of us going our respective ways.
It was mid-afternoon when I returned to the hotel room after spending the afternoon with Xavier. We'd been spending a lot time together over the past few weeks and slowly we were starting to develop a relationship. I wouldn't have said we'd reached the point of comfortable easiness with each other yet; that would take time. But we were taking the time to learn more about each other and I was finding that as we did, it was easier and easier for me to let my anger towards him go. Decisions had been made by him and my mother that had negatively impacted many lives, but I realized more with each passing day that I would only be doing myself a disservice if I continued to punish him for this.
I had just changed into some comfortable yoga pants and a lightweight cotton t-shirt when an ashen faced Edward walked through the door. I was immediately worried, thinking that perhaps Amélie had taken a sudden turn for the worse, but then I noticed Edward holding some photographs in his hands… photographs of me and Xavier warmly embracing, and I knew that whatever it was that was wrong had absolutely nothing to do with Amélie.
"Edward?" I called his name cautiously, but his phone rang just then and he was momentarily distracted.
"Melinda?" He answered gruffly. He was obviously stressed. "Yes, yes…I'm back at the hotel now. No…I haven't told her yet; I just got here. Are you sure there's nothing you can do? Fuck…okay, okay…I understand. I'll see you in a few minutes." Edward thrust his phone into his back pocket then before turning his attention back to me.
"Bella…we need to talk."
Endnotes:
Wishing all of you the warmest of holiday wishes. I'll see you again in the new year!