A/N: Happy Easter/Passover/Goddess of Fertility day. Whichever you celebrate. *smooch*
Thank you to Kimmie45 and Starry8.
Vertigo
Chapter 38
Edward.
Dr Jenks assures me Bella's eighty percent improved and the rest will just naturally follow with time. She'll never be completely well, though. She lost her entire family; it's not possible to ever get over such a thing, but since I'm forever scarred we have that in common.
I really thought it would take more than one session to crack her, but it didn't. The doc was right. One was all she needed and it completely broke her open. I thought the first one—the one that dealt with her survivor's guilt—was bad, but the second was worse. She fainted and I only just caught her in time before she hit her head. When she came to moments later, she completely lost her shit; worse than what happened in the harbour tunnel.
She was hysterical, she couldn't breathe, and Dr Jenks told me she might have to be hospitalised for a few days-in a mental health facility. I almost lost my shit at him then, because there was no fucking way under the sun I was leaving her in one of those places.
For two months after she was a ghost. She stared straight through me, she cried all the time, and when she wasn't crying she was sleeping. I had to keep reminding myself, repeatedly, that it was normal. That she was going through a natural process she didn't ten years ago, because it was completely messing with me. I took more time off work to be with her. I explained what was happening to Bella with my boss. He was understanding, but what could he do? I've been there for seven years and until Bella got pneumonia I hadn't had a single sickie. I would have chucked it in if he didn't give it to me, but he did.
Dr Jenks stopped by the house a few times to check in on her. He told me she was doing well, that she was behaving "normally", and I just needed to give her time. Considering ten years had already passed and she had gone through a lot of the process already, he was confident she'd come out of it a lot quicker.
Then slowly she started to get better. The light returned to her eyes, and then her smile. Then her libido. By New Year's she was back. I managed to keep faith in her that she could do it. I have no idea how. I no longer worry she could hurt herself. It's not completely gone, though, and I don't think it ever will. I just have to make sure she never finds out.
She hasn't had a nightmare since, but she still has her down days. She doesn't run from them anymore, though, and she doesn't shut me out, either. She's truthful when I ask her how she's doing, even if I ask her too bloody much. Sometimes she sighs as if I'm irritating her, but she still answers.
"Christ, Edward, are you going to haunt my existence forever with that bloody worry of yours?" That's how she'll sometimes reply, but if I'm truthful in return it mellows her.
"Yeah," I usually say, and she smiles and tells me I'm adorable.
I was really worried she'd come out the other end of it completely different. That I wouldn't know her, but she hasn't. The person she let me see was always her. I was that one exception for her, but then she's always been my one exception.
I wish I could say I was 100% certain she'd accept my proposal, but I wasn't. I know her well enough that if she thought I was asking her out of pity she'd shut me down, and bloody bluntly. Jake convinced me to find my balls and ask her. I had the ring since our anniversary. I was going to ask her that night, but I second guessed myself and bought her earrings, instead. She loves those bloody diamonds, she never takes them out, and it makes me smile to see her wearing them. Then she hit rock bottom and I wasn't sure I'd ever get the chance to ask her; I wasn't sure my Bella would come out of it on the other side. Watching her go through it was worse than seeing her in the hospital hooked up to the ventilator.
Jake actually asked me whether I would have ever asked her out that night in her car if I knew what I'd have to go through.
"Of course I would have!" I answered too sharply and pissed off. "I knew going in she'd have a lot of problems. That never mattered."
I knew after our first date she was it. Maybe she invited me in to see if I was an arsehole, maybe she didn't. I don't believe it, though. She could have got me into bed and had a reason to break it off, christ knows she's that persuasive, but she didn't. Yeah, she's persuasive, all right. She talked Ness around in an hour. But that night she focused all her energy on me and my bullshit, and I haven't been the same since. Not only does it not bother me at all to have her hands all over me, but I long for it, every damn minute I'm with her.
"At least I'll know you'll never stray, handsome," she teased me after I flipped out in New Zealand.
I wouldn't anyway.
She still sees Dr Jenks. Only once a week now. She's always going to be in danger of sliding back; that's just our reality. She's stopped me from going with her, and that's fine by me. There's some things I don't have to be a part of and her grief is personal to her. Plus, she's uncomfortable sharing certain things with me. I get that. We don't talk about her grandmother anymore. I know what happened and that's enough. She has no intention of hashing through it again. We don't talk about anything that came out with Dr Jenks, either. I know she hated the fact that I was there, and she's always going to carry guilt to some extent. I'm happy to let him work with it through her. He knows what the hell he's doing, that's for sure.
Sympathy is still out. She'll still grab my dick if I forget. In public, or in front of Jake, or her brother. Or mine. Emmett's eyes almost bugged out of his head when he first witnessed it. Then he made a smart arse comment about how he should have paid her more attention in high school.
Rosalie's still hanging around. Emmett's using her as a fuck buddy right now, but she refuses to give in. She's nicer to Bella, though. She's not stupid. Though Bella's sarcasm goes completely over her head, so maybe she is. That's the problem with Bella, she's too damn smart. That brain of hers is being wasted on her job. I have to get her to leave and go to university.
Surely she won't mind me paying now?
With Bella I can never be sure, but I have to give her the choice.
I decide to do it in public because she won't hesitate to get pissed off and screechy at home, and I hate fighting with her.
"Let's go for dinner," I suggest after she walks through the door after work and plants her lips to mine; looking too bloody gorgeous in that tight skirt and high heels.
It's Thursday. She doesn't have therapy with Dr Jenks on Thursdays anymore and I miss having dinner with her afterward.
"Okay, but no more Shangri-La," she puts on that elitist accent again. "Somewhere normal, okay?" And raising on her toes she kisses my neck. "Christ, handsome, you must drive the female teachers mental smelling like this every day."
I roll my eyes but break into a small smile regardless. "Do you want to get changed?"
"I'm fine," she insists, "and it's too hot for jeans." Because that's all she wears, skirts to work and jeans when she's not. Or nothing at all.
We get takeaway from Subway and eat in Hyde Park. It's February and still Daylight Savings, and Bella likes it here. Because of me, she never fails to remind me. Jesus, I wonder why I ever doubt her feelings for me when she's never shy about confessing them.
We sit on a park bench opposite the fountain, Bella with one leg crossed at the knee, showing too much thigh, while she yabbers on as she eats. Christ, she can talk a lot.
"Bella...?" I take advantage when she pauses to take a bite of her footlong.
"Hmm?" she mumbles with a mouth full of food.
"I have something for you."
"Oh?" she says after swallowing, her eyebrows raised.
"Yeah..." Getting to my feet I grab my wallet from my back pocket and pull the spare Visa card from it. "I added you as a second card holder on my account," I explain, sitting back down and handing it to her.
She takes it slowly as if she's cautious. "Christ, handsome, I know I'm not earning a six figure salary or anything, but I'm not exactly on minimum wage." Then pulling her wallet from her purse she slides the card into an empty slot.
She didn't throw it back at me, at least.
"It's not that..." I say with a small sigh. "We have the wedding to pay for, and I just thought we should have a joint account. You can add your wage to it, if you like."
"Yeah, I'm sure that'll make a dent," she says wryly.
I sigh again, louder this time. "Bella—Jesus!"
"Oh, I'm kidding." She grabs my chin. "Christ, could you get any better looking?"
"You're doing my head in," I mutter more or less under my breath.
"Okay, you might as well tell me."
"Tell you...?"
"What you're worth," she elaborates. "So, come on, out with it."
"...I'm not really sure."
"Seriously?" She's not convinced.
"Bella..."
"Five hundred million?"
"It sort of fluctuates with stock prices..." I mumble, and I'm not comfortable talking about it. Bella's never fixated on money and I want to keep it that way.
"Higher or lower?" She arches an eyebrow. "If we're going to get married don't you think I should know something like that?" she adds when I don't answer.
"It's around...eight hundred, I think," I reply reluctantly.
"Eight hundred...million?" she repeats, looking slightly dazed.
"Maybe eight-fifty..."
"Holy shit!"
"I'm sorry."
"You're sorry?" Half a laugh bursts from her as if she's in disbelief. "For being rich?"
"I...I don't know," I murmur, breaking her gaze. "I didn't earn a cent of it. I dunno..."
"Oh, handsome..." she says, releasing her breath as if she wants to laugh at me, before leaning her head on my shoulder. "You are so adorable sometimes it kills me."
"Would you stop calling me that?"
"What?" She quirks her brow at me. "Adorable?"
"Handsome."
"Why?" She flashes me an odd look. "You are handsome."
"It's...patronising," I state.
"Patronising?" she echoes, sounding suddenly irritated. "I can't call you darling, I can't call you handsome..." she starts to rant. "Is there anything I can call you?"
"Don't call me anything. Christ...I'm sorry." I turn away from her and lean forward on the bench, resting my arms on my knees. I knew I'd fuck this up.
"Okay, why are you so uptight?" she suddenly demands, immediately suspicious. "What's going on?"
"Nothing."
"Sure thing, Mr Broody," she says dryly, before huffing. "Just bloody well tell me."
"I just wanted you on my account—is that so hard to believe!?" I burst after turning back to her, but she only eyes me sceptically.
"What do you want me to buy...?" she puts to me, and christ, she's too damn perceptive for her own good.
"The wedding," I lie but she's onto me immediately.
"Nu-uh..."
I exhale heavily and loudly, filling with frustrating, but decide to just come clean. "I...I thought...christ..." I abandon it and drop my head, groaning loudly to myself.
"Is this a pity present!?" she suddenly demands and on impulse I hunch over to protect myself.
"No!" I insist. "Don't bloody married couples have joint accounts?!" My voice raises unintentionally, but she's still not convinced. Not at all.
"Edward..." She suddenly sounds weary. "You gave me the bloody card for a reason, so just tell me."
"Go to university!" I blurt it out before I can talk myself out of it.
Her expression immediately smooths out in surprise, and I think maybe she's moved, but it's so hard to tell. "You want me to go to university...?" Her voice wavers; she's definitely moved by it, and I release my breath in relief.
"Yeah," I say softly. "Let me pay for it, Baby. Please?"
She nods her head hastily as an obvious means to hold back her tears, because they're suddenly welling in her eyes.
"Why are you crying?" I ask, and I'm not sure if I should feel anxious or not.
"Because, handsome, just when I think I can't love you more you go and do something like this!" she bursts, dropping her head to quickly wipe her tears away.
Breaking into a smile, I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her closer to me. "You give me bloody high blood pressure sometimes," I murmur against the side of her head.
A sound breaks from her, halfway between a laugh and a sob, before she turns her head to kiss me. "I'm not going to stop calling you handsome!" she declares after I'm forced to pull back from her.
My smile broadens and I reach out to wipe her tears away with my thumbs. "Now tell me what you want to be?" I ask her gently.
"An obstetrician," she admits, her voice softening. "I thought it'd be nice to bring life into the world after all the death I've seen."
"Okay," I agree, cupping my hand to her cheek. "I want you to do it—tomorrow. Promise me."
She nods, inhaling back her tears heavily. "I will." She grabs my chin again. "You're adorable—and no, I'm not going to stop saying that, either."
I break into an immediate grin because I really don't want her to. "All right..."
"And you're tiptoeing around me again." She arches that brow at me.
"I'm not," I assure her. "It's just...last time when I brought it up you freaked out."
"Last time I wasn't wearing bloody Ayers Rock"—she holds up her hand emphasising her engagement ring—"on my left hand."
"Is that why?" I ask, and I'm surprised.
"Of course," she says simply. "Let's go home. I owe you some good loving after this."
. . .
I'm still not sure whether it's because we're getting married, or because she's come out of the other end of hell so healed, but she's stopped fighting me on most things now. My Visa card was just the start of it.
She goes into work on Friday to officially resign, and when she comes through the door that afternoon, as well as carrying a box full of all the stuff off her desk, she's clutching at least three dozen roses and various cards and stuffed toys, while her boss bought her a Cartier watch as a farewell gift.
She's wearing it.
"Look, we match, handsome," she says holding it up to mine. She's wearing it on her right hand and it's slightly too big. She's going to need to take a few links from the chain. Then turning to me and sliding her hand to the back of my neck, she kisses me. "By the way, I called Sydney Uni during my lunch break," she murmurs against my lips.
"Yeah?" I say, pulling back to meet her eyes. I'd called them, as well. At least, I'd got my lawyer to call them to make sure she's accepted. She missed the first semester by a few weeks. They would have already filled every available position, and unless I did something she'd have to wait another year.
She's not waiting another year.
I'm not sure how much money I had to donate—I really don't look at my balance—but I'm sure it was a fair amount. It's not that I give a shit. There's no way I can spend the interest on the investments Pop left me—short of living like he did—let alone the rest of it.
Alec, my lawyer, called me back just after lunch to tell me as long as Bella passes the clinical aptitude test, she'll be accepted. Which means she's as good as going. She pulled off a 96 in her ATAR while still in the hell of family's death. I have no doubt she'll ace it.
"Yeah, I'm going tomorrow to sit the UCAT exam. Then they'll call me in for an interview."
"You don't need some time to prepare for it?" I ask.
She waves her hand dismissively. "God, I've had long enough."
"Let's celebrate!" I say with a grin.
"Sure," she immediately agrees, grabbing the front of my shirt with both her hands and pulling me backwards towards the bedroom.
"Bel-la," I'm forced to pull back from her lips again to better explain myself. "I meant to go out and eat."
"Christ, what is it with you and eating?" She's undeterred. "Besides, I don't know about you, but I'll be eating..."
A week later she's officially accepted, and two days after she starts a two year undergraduate course in Biomedical Science.
She leaves for her first lecture with her old Acer laptop under her arm and scuffed up backpack. She comes home to a new desk, chair and MacBook. I also bought her a bookcase to shelve the numerous books she has lying around gathering dust.
I ambush her the moment she walks through the door, taking her bag from her shoulder, and covering her eyes.
"What are you doing?" she asks cynically.
"This way, and no peeking," I tell her, leading her to her make-shift study without removing her hands. "Okay, ready?"
"Ready," she echoes, a small smile pulling on her lips.
I remove my hands, revealing her new room, and for a moment or two she doesn't speak. It's usually not a good sign with Bella, but then she slowly turns back to me. "You did all this?" she asks, her voice softly catching while her brow knots heavily as if she's on the verge of tears.
"Yeah. You like it?"
"Of course I bloody like it," she replies, reaching up to wrap her arms around my neck. "You're spoiling me," she says against my earlobe before planting her lips to my jaw.
"I told you I would," I remind her, moving her back and grabbing the box I'd left on the desk. "One more thing." And picking it up, I place it in her arms.
Flashing me a wry smile, she takes a small breath and pulls off the lid. She only stares at what's inside for a moment before she exclaims, "Christ, Edward! How much did this cost?"
"I...I'm not sure. It's a messenger bag—for your laptop and all your books. What...?" Her forehead's quirked, her mouth slightly open, and I can't read her expression.
"It's bloody Fendi!" she explains her reaction.
"...Fendi...? What's Fendi...?"
"Oh my god..." She drops her head into her hand, but she's smiling. "You are so adorable."
"So...you're not angry?"
"Of course I'm not angry. I'm just not sure whether I've scored a fiancé or won the lottery."
"Bella..."
"I'm only teasing you." She grabs my chin like she often does. "Where the hell did you get this?"
"David Jones," I mumble. "Do you like it?"
"I wouldn't be female if I didn't." Placing her hand to my cheek she kisses my lips quickly. "But no spoiling me too much, okay?"
"I'll think about it, but Bella...you can buy all this yourself, you know?" I tell her, wiping a strand of her dark hair off her face.
"I know," I says simply, but she looks suddenly uncomfortable. "I bought groceries with it the other day," she points out as if that makes a difference.
I release a heavy breath and shove my hands in my pants pockets. "All right..."
"I just...I don't want to end up like my mother," she mumbles, her eyes dropping to the Fendi bag she's still holding.
"...What do you mean?" I ask, taking it from her, and after dumping it back in the box, I grab her hand.
"She was just...really materialistic. I don't want to be that way." She gazes up at me, looking vulnerable again.
"You can take it back if-if you like," I stammer.
She breaks into a warm smile and shakes her head. "You bought it for me, handsome. Without even knowing it's a designer label because that's how adorable and completely clueless you are. I'm keeping it."
"Erm..." I'm sure she meant to compliment me, but then she always says whatever the hell jumps into her head at any given moment that sometimes it's hard to tell.
"But, seriously, do you even look at price tags?"
"Not really..." I admit, rubbing the back of my neck and glancing momentarily away from her. "How was your first day?" I decide to change the subject.
"Interesting," she says, wrapping her arms around my waist. "I'm exhausted already, though."
"You'll be fine," I assure her, pulling her closer to me and leaning my chin against her head, "and I'll help you with Maths."
She utters out half a laugh but it sounds strange. "That was the very first memory that came back to me," she murmurs.
. . .
For the next month Bella and I fall into our new routine. Some days are busier for her than others, depending on how many lectures she has, and I usually come home to find her deep in books, or typing away on her computer.
She gets a week off over Easter with me, and on Good Friday she wakes up in tears. I figure it's to do with the holidays and I stay in bed with her and hold her against me; letting her cry it out.
"He w-would have been twenty-five," she stammers, propping herself on my chest and wiping away her tears. Her eyes look like they're drowning in pain like I've seen too many times now.
"Who would have? Sam?" I ask gently, helping her to dry her eyes.
"Yeah," she hiccups. "It's his b-birthday."
"Shit, baby..." I exhale heavily. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I just did."
"I mean warn me."
She sort of half shakes her head before laying her cheek back against my chest. "I thought I'd be okay," she mumbles.
"Do you want to go to his grave?" I offer.
"No." She almost sounds irritated. "Christ, why would I want to be reminded of his death? As if I could forget..." she mutters.
"Okay... Do you want to do something he liked to do, instead?" I suggest, pressing my lips to the side of her head.
"Hmm..." she murmurs sounding distracted. "Edward?"
"Yeah?"
"If we ever have a baby together, let's name him Sam."
"Okay," I agree, smiling to myself. I never thought I wanted kids, but I'm starting to warm up to the idea, "but...what if he's a she?"
She hums again as if she's contemplating it. "Then...Sam."
"All right."
"I thought about what I want to do," she says, once again raising her head to meet my eyes.
"What's that?"
She almost smirks. "I want you to distract me."
Of course she does. It wouldn't be Bella if she didn't.
. . .
Bella's days soon get pretty hectic for her. She's constantly busy attending lectures and completing assignments, on top of planning for the wedding. Ness and Alice are helping her. We're only having something small. The ceremony's being held at St Philip's Anglican Church on York Street, while the reception's at View by Sydney on the pier at The Rocks. It's set for November 2nd.
Bella works best under pressure and when she's swamped. That became obvious straight away. She gets barely any sleep, and I really have no idea how she does it, but she's happy. And when she's happy, I'm happy.
By the end of March the house sells for just under sixteen million. Japanese investors buy it. I give Jake half, depositing it into his bank when he attempts to put up further resistance. Ness rings me up in tears a week later. Jake's started an apprenticeship as a mechanic, and she vows to pay me back anyway she can. She continues to ramble for another couple of minutes when I promise to get Bella to call her; I'm just as crap on the phone with women as I am in person.
"Hey," Bella greets me after she picks up my call. "Has Jake said anything?" She sounds weird, and bloody cryptic.
"No... About the house, you mean?" I put to her.
"Yeah!" she replies hastily. "What's up?—are you going to be home on time today?"
"Same time as usual... Bella...?" I abandon it. She's been pretty sleep deprived lately and often sounds spacey. "Want me to bring some dinner home?"
"Sure, but get extra. I'm starving." There's an edge to her tone; it's obvious.
"All right. Sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, just up to my eyeballs in work." A weird laugh breaks from her. "Don't be late, okay?"
"Okay..." I reply becoming distracted. "Love you."
"You're adorable," she replies, which is her way of reciprocating it, and then she hangs up. And I forgot to tell her to call Ness.
I arrive home a few minutes before five, and just as I pull myself from the car, clutching the plastic bag full of Chinese food, Bella opens the front door and approaches me. This is when I realise something's definitely up. She doesn't immediately meet my gaze, but when she does it's obvious she's anxious. Really bloody anxious, and while one arm is folded across her chest the other is propped up with the tip of her thumb between her teeth.
I release my breath, resigned. "Okay, what's going on?"
For a moment she doesn't speak; she only gazes up at me and her expression is throwing me. She looks genuinely bloody worried.
"I need you to promise me something," she eventually says reaching out to take a fistful of my shirt.
"Bella..."
"Edward, I'm not kidding—promise me!" she blurts abruptly, and she's serious.
"Promise you what?" I put to her.
"That you'll stay calm."
"Bella—Jesus what the hell's happened now!?" I burst, reaching out to drag my fingers back over my scalp.
"Just...stay calm, okay?" Releasing my shirt, she grabs my hand before I can reef it through my hair a second time. "Promise me." She's insistent.
"What do you want me to be calm about?" I ask, becoming frustrated.
"Just..." Shaking her head she lets it go, and turning she makes her way back toward the house, tugging me along after her.
Once we're inside the hall, she takes the bag of food from me and sits it on the hallstand before turning to fully face me. "Calm, remember?" she reiterates, dropping her voice to a whisper.
"I'm calm," I say lowly with an impatient breath, but I'm growing curious at the same time. She's concerned for me but at the same time...
Grabbing my hand again, she leads me into the lounge room. I take no more than two steps when I stop again.
A kid is sitting on the sofa opposite the window, and when my gaze meets his he springs to his feet nervously. He looks like he hasn't showered in a month, his clothes are dirty and his hair is unruly and needs to be cut. He only stares at me for a moment, and I stare back feeling the frown etch my forehead; wondering whether Bella's adopted us a bloody kid, or something, when I immediately pause.
As he continues to gaze at me with these wide, fearful eyes, I suddenly realise...they're familiar. That's when I take closer notice of the shade of his hair, and the features of his face... This kid, who only appears to be ten years old at the very most, looks exactly like my grandfather.
He looks exactly like me.
A/N: Dun, dun, dun... I did foreshadow this, but I was very subtle. I didn't want to give it away. Was it obvious? I think a few of you were onto me ;)
Thank you for reading, and Kim has a note that explains the US equivalent for Medical exams/terms. I'll add it when she wakes from the other side of the world.
Beta note:
The Australian Tertiary Admission Rank (ATAR) is a number between 0.00 and 99.95 that indicates a student's position relative to all the students in their age group. Universities use the ATAR to help them select students for their courses and admission to most tertiary courses that is based on your selection rank (your ATAR + any applicable adjustments). UCAT-University Clinical Aptitude Test (UCAT) The largest medical admissions test for universities in selection for Medicine, Dentistry, selected clinical sciences. This is the same as the MCAT (Medical College Admission Test) in 'Murica.