Chapter 38

"There is no love without forgiveness, and there is no forgiveness without love."
― Bryant H. McGill

Bella

I meet his eyes for the first time in weeks, and it's both brutally strange and achingly familiar. Looking at him straight on, his face looks thinner, and there's more scruff on his cheeks than he ever left there when we were dating. The smudges under his eyes are dark, and he just looks fucking tired and broken, as if a piece of him is missing—exactly the way I feel. Faded jeans, the soft green button-down with the chest pocket that I used to put Jolly Ranchers into, and—wow—both hands in his pockets. It seems his hand is completely healed.

Can we heal too?

He closes his eyes and takes a slow, deep breath, and it's as if I can see his nerves rattling just under the surface—like he's trying to get himself together enough to come talk to me. To break the silence that has endured since I said goodbye to him six weeks or a lifetime ago. I really don't know which.

And I'm not sure if I want him to or not.

Fear and anticipation surge in such similar ways; it's hard to tell which one I'm feeling as he shuffles across the floor toward me, his own steps far from certain, until he's right here, and I have to raise my chin to meet his eyes.

The tears well instantly, and all the emotions of the past weeks come flooding back, but loss and loneliness and hurt are right on the surface, making me want to throw my arms around him and save us both.

But I don't.

"Hi, Bella."

His voice caresses my name as only his ever could, and I melt a little as I croak out a broken, "Hi."

"Can we talk? Please? I … I have some things I want to say, even if it won't change anything."

My heart is thundering in my chest, and I seem to have lost the power of speech, so I just nod at him, then follow him as he weaves a path through the dancers and up the caf stairs into the main hallway of the school. There's a lunch table against the wall under one of the trophy cases, and he leads me there, leaning against it as he turns to face me.

"Can we sit? I'm a little—"

"Nervous?"

"Nauseous."

We say the words at the same time, and I suspect they're true for both of us.

He smiles just a little as he looks down, and I do the same although he doesn't see it, and I mirror his pose as he sits on the table, one leg bent in front of him so he can face me.

Well, his body is facing me anyway. His face is angled downward so he can stare at his bent knee, and I can hear his rapid, shallow breaths and hard swallows. He's close to panicking, and I'm already trying to come up with ways I can help ground him that won't freak him out even more when he raises misty green eyes to mine, and his words finally come tumbling out.

"Bella, lying to you was the biggest mistake I've ever made in my life. I expected you to be like everyone else because I didn't know you, but now that I do, I know you would never, ever hurt someone else to help yourself."

He takes another deep breath, and his eyes shift downward. "But that's what I did. I pretended to like you to keep you from telling everyone, and I bullied so many people to keep the attention away from me. I wish I could take that back too. I've done … so many awful things in the name of protecting myself, and maybe I didn't have to—I'm pretty sure now that I didn't have to—but I didn't know that at the time, and I let myself become a complete asshole.

"I don't like who I am. I hate all the lying, I hate that no one can get close to me, and I'm just so fucking tired of being alone and afraid."

He closes his eyes and a tear escapes onto his cheek, but he dashes it away. "I hate that I have epilepsy, and I hate that I can't just fucking deal with telling everyone the truth … but I can't.

"The only time—the only time—I've been happy since before all this happened was when I was with you." Now his eyes seek out mine, and the longing in them is so deep, so powerful, that I can feel it in my chest, taste it in the air.

"I love you, Bella, and … I like who I am when I'm with you. You just make everything in my life easier to deal with, and you make me feel strong and not afraid. You make me feel like I might be worth something. And I love talking about Game of Thrones with you and helping you with physics, and I love dancing with you and touching you, and … I just love you. I don't know what else to say. And I would do anything to make you believe me—anything but the one thing I can't do.

"And I want to do things for you. I know you think I'm selfish, and you're right, I am, but … but I don't want to be. I want … to make you smile and make you laugh. I want to take you on dates and hold your hand and show everyone that I'm yours. I wanna be … someone you're proud to call your boyfriend because he does such awesome things for you. You might have to help me with that because I'm not used to doing things for other people, but I want to."

I look into his eyes and it's all there—the pain and self-loathing, the confusion and loss, the love that he feels for me, the sincerity of his apology. It's all there, and he's so close, and my hand is itching to reach out and touch him, to tell him it's okay and I forgive him and I love him. I lean forward and I can feel his breath—I want to kiss him so badly it hurts, and I just want to forget what he did, pretend it never happened. He's so warm and right here, and it would be so easy—he closes his eyes when we're two inches apart and—

"No!" The word flies from my mouth, startling us both, breaking the spell of the moment. I need time to think. He's too close, and I'm thinking with my hormones and not my wounded heart or my head and I just … I need to get out of here.

Wide green eyes meet mine, brimming with shock and hurt, but this is all happening too quickly, and we need to talk and not kiss, but I can't even begin to think of the words as he stares into my eyes in the semi-darkness and "Fall for You" plays in the background.

"You don't … believe me, do you?" He says the words as if he's in a daze, and they're not really a question. I know I'm fucking this up, but I just can't sort it all out in my head.

"I don't … I don't know. I just … I just can't … I need to go!" My heart twists in my chest with every inch of distance I put between us, but I leap from the table and tear down the hall into the main part of the school.

I can hear Edward calling my name, but I don't stop until I get to the main lobby, panting and brushing away tears. I can't stay here because I don't want him to find me—I don't want anyone to find me until I've had some time, so I try to the gym doors, and thankfully, they're open.

I walk briskly down the stairs and across the floor to the far corner of the bleachers. Even if someone comes in, they won't see me in the darkness.

When I finally sit down, the weight of what just happened falls on me, and the tears begin in earnest. I miss him so much, and now that the hormones have been drowned by tears, my heart is begging me to run back to him and fall into his arms and just … make everything okay.

Is everything okay?

Lying to you was the biggest mistake I've ever made in my life.

With his words comes the look in his eyes, sorrowful but unflinching, owning what he did, and I know in my heart he really does mean it.

I've done so many awful things in the name of protecting myself, and I'm pretty sure now that I didn't have to.

Holy fuck, he did listen to me. He heard me all those weeks ago when I told him he didn't need to hurt others to help himself, even though he denied it at the time.

I don't like who I am. I hate all the lying, I hate that no one can be close to me, and I'm just so fucking tired of being alone and afraid.

His voice broke over the words—there's so much pain there. How did I not throw my arms around him and tell him he never has to be alone or afraid ever again?

I know you think I'm selfish, and you're right, I am, but … but I don't want to be.

I think you've changed him, Bella.

Alice's words follow right after Edward's, and team Edward in my head seems to be holding its breath and so am I. The precipice I stand on doesn't seem quite so high anymore and …

He made a mistake, Bella. A really bad one, but I think he'd do just about anything to make it up to you. You both love each other—should you really have to spend the rest of your lives miserable because of one mistake?

"No!"

My answer echoes in the gym, and hope surges in my chest like a gale, holding me up as I leap off the precipice and into the chasm of blind trust borne of the love I feel for him—the love I've always felt but was afraid to own because he hurt me. You don't stop loving someone just because they hurt you, and if you love them, then you have to be willing to forgive them when they make a mistake, even if it is a horrible one.

And I do.

I love him, and I forgive him.

You don't … believe me, do you?

He bared his soul to me, and I ran away.

"Oh, God, what have I done?"

I dash across the gym floor.

I've got to find him and tell him I love him and forgive him, and—

I let out a squeak, confused as I'm brought to a sudden halt at the bottom of the stairs.

"Well, look what we have here, Mike."

"Let me go!" I yell as I pull to get away, but Austin's grip on my wrist is like a vice. Both of them start to laugh at me.

"Oh, I don't think so, Swan. I've wanted you for a long time."

Rage fills me, and I whirl to face him. He's leering at me, and I'm more disgusted than I've ever been. I take two steps so I'm right in his face and raise my chin defiantly.

"I told you no," I say with as much venom as I can muster, and I spit right in his face.

Ken Doll gasps, but Austin just snorts a laugh as he wipes off his face. And before I know what's happened, my cheek explodes in pain, and I'm pressed against the wall of the gym with my hands pinned over my head and Austin's knee between my legs.

"Maybe you don't get to say no," he growls, and the stench of whiskey turns my stomach as I break out in a cold sweat.

Oh, God, he wouldn't …

"Austin, what the f-f-fuck—" Ken Doll slurs as he appears beside us, leaning on the wall.

"Fuck off, Mike! You can either jerk off while you watch or leave—I don't give a fuck—but I'm getting mine tonight, and I swear I'll beat your ass if you interfere. You know I owe her one—two if you count what she just did. And you know she gave it up for Cullen. Now she can give it up for me."

I gasp as Austin raises his knee so it presses right there, and fear floods me in a rush of shivers.

"No … Mike … help!"

I barely get a breath before Austin's kissing me, and I taste blood as my lip is smashed against my own teeth. I thrash my head, but he follows, thrusting his tongue into my mouth so hard I nearly gag.

I'm panting and crying when he pulls away, and I jerk back when he grabs my chin hard.

"Not so tough now, are you? Go ahead and fight, Bella. It just makes me harder."

His hand slides down my neck, and I jerk forward as my blouse rips and buttons go flying, and I squeal as he squeezes my breast.

"No! Please! Don't—"

His knee grinds upward again, but suddenly, I'm on the ground and Edward is between me and Austin.

I can't see Edward's face, but I hear his gasp and swear as he shakes out his right hand—the one that was broken.

Austin is bent over, cupping his nose as Edward turns toward me.

"Son of a bitch," he swears, but there are tears in his eyes as he kneels before me and takes my hands. "Did he—"

"No." But I'm shaking, and it's hard to breathe.

"But I'm gonna," Austin says, and Edward pulls us both to our feet as he turns, keeping me firmly behind him.

"Over my dead body," Edward growls, but Austin just laughs.

"It'll be like foreplay. Bella can watch while I fuck up Cullen's pretty face. Mike, come hold her."

"The hell I will," Ken Doll says, coming up beside Austin. "I've wanted to fuck up Cullen for a long time now."

Edward glances over his shoulder, and suddenly, his arms are stretched backward to cage me, and we're moving along the wall toward the glass doors that lead to the parking lot. He has a plan.

We're almost there when Ken Doll steps forward, and before Edward can react, he's nearly on his knees clutching his stomach and gasping.

"But I still want Swan," Austin says, making a grab for me, but the next thing I know, I'm freezing and Edward is pulling the gym door shut tight between us.

I tug on it immediately and gasp in horror.

It's locked.

Edward's eyes lock to mine from the other side of the glass, and I can't stop the tears as I beat on the door with my fists. His gaze is everything, and I watch as his pain turns to determination, readying himself to fight.

He mouths one word, then turns to face two angry, drunken boys, outmanned and outgunned.

"Run."

A/N: Sorry for the cliffie, but it had to end here in order to flow correctly. Is Edward your hero? Chapter 39 will post on Thursday because I don't want to leave you hanging for two weeks. See you soon!