A/N: happy Sunday. Or Saturday for most of you who don't live in Tomorrow Land like us Aussies do. Thank you, of course, to Kimmie45 and StarryEyedWriter8, and I hope you all enjoy.
Vertigo
Chapter 39
Bella.
I always considered anything short of an A+ as a failing grade. I'm not sure if that was my father speaking through me, but it was definitely ingrained into me. It still is. Of course, with my C- average in Maths, I considered myself an abysmal failure. Ironically, all I can really, confidently, recall about High school Maths is what Edward taught me those two weeks in the library.
He was a good tutor, and ridiculously good at Maths. He taught me more in those two weeks than my dull as dishwater Maths teacher could in six months. I can't believe I once thought Edward wasn't very smart, but then those steely eyes of his reveal a depth to him that I'm still discovering.
A+ in high school is now the university equivalent of a High Distinction, and that's what I'm determined to score for my first report on "Model Organisms".
I finished it a few days before it was due only to descend into anxiety and decided to revise it. I pull an all-nighter. I'm not sure when I crash still sitting at my desk with various papers stuck to my face, but at dawn I vaguely recall Edward hauling me to bed.
"You're going to get sick again," he warns me, tucking me beneath the blankets, his voice firm and slightly exasperated while immersed in that ever constant pain and worry he carries.
"I'm fine, handsome," I mumble in reply, clumsily reaching out to grab his face, and then I'm asleep.
. . .
I oversleep, which is bloody poetic. I wake with twenty minutes until my first lecture, when I have to submit my assignment, and immediately know the ferry is not going to cut it. I'll have to drive. Over the bridge. At peak hour.
I'm in such a mad rush I don't really stop to contemplate it, and am racing across the campus lawn to class with thirty seconds to spare. I don't realise what an accomplishment it was until I'm having a delayed reaction at the start of my second lecture; especially, with the knowledge that I'll have to go back over the bridge to go home, or take the harbour tunnel.
I briefly consider reaching out to Ness and Jake or Alice and Jasper to help me, when I decide to suck it up. Calling Edward is out of the question, too. I don't want him worrying about me anymore. He's done enough of that in our year-and-a-half relationship that I swear sometimes when he looks at me, all the damage I've done to him is reflecting in his eyes.
That man...
I drive over the bridge doing forty and pissing off all the motorists while breaking into a cold sweat, but I make it home in one piece while still managing to breathe on my own.
I'm bloody proud of myself and immediately grab my phone to tell handsome when Jake calls.
"Bella," he says abruptly before I get a chance to utter a single syllable. "You might want to get over here." He sounds completely freaked, and my first thought is it has something to do with Ness or his family; in which case he would have called Edward.
"What...?" I ask filling with uncertainty. "Is there anything wrong?"
"Not wrong. Jesus, I'm not sure how to explain it. Can you come now?"
"I just got home. I'll be there in a few minutes. Is it Edward?" I ask apprehensively, placing a palm over my creased forehead. Jake doesn't often call me; in fact, I can count the number of times on my hand. The last was to thank me for talking Ness around. He'll usually go through Edward, which is completely understandable, so I'm a little thrown off.
"Yeah," he admits, releasing a heavy breath and I'm immediately on edge.
"Jake..."
"It's not bad. Listen, you'll understand when you get here. You coming now?"
"I'm on my way."
I'm still shaken after my trip across the bridge, but I'm so distracted I drive a lot faster than I otherwise would have. Jake must have been listening out for me because just as I'm climbing out of my car on the driveway, he swings open the front door and strides toward me.
"Okay, what the hell's going on!" I burst after seeing his expression. It's animated but completely overrun, and I can barely guess what it could be.
"Come inside," he instructs me, and taking my elbow, he leads me through the entry door and down the hall to Edward's old bedroom. His bed sits stripped bare beneath the window, and opposite is his dresser that holds nothing but dust, but other than that it's completely empty.
"So..." Jake begins after closing the door behind him. "I was packing—Ness is on afternoon shift and she just left for work," he pauses to gauge me, and confused and a little impatient, I nod my head for him to continue. "Someone knocked on the door, I answered it and it's this...kid. He asked me if I was his dad—"
"—A kid...?" I repeat vacantly.
"A kid." He nods, bowing his head to run his hand over it. "I'm not his father, Bella, but when you see him it's pretty obvious who is."
"...Are you saying...Edward is..." I can't finish. I'm not sure I have words, but it's completely inconceivable.
Glancing up again, Jake only nods.
"Where is he?" I ask. My heart's beginning to hammer, and breaking his gaze I scramble around in my bag clumsily for my inhaler.
"In the lounge room."
Almost mechanically, I turn and exit Edward's old room and head back down the hall to the kitchen and family room. Jake's behind me, and placing his hand on my shoulder he leads me into the back room that overlooks the pool. This is where the kid in question sits on the edge of the sofa, clutching a can of Coke with both hands.
He looks up at me as I enter just as I pull up short, my breath immediately drawing.
"Oh my god..." I utter in barely a whisper behind both my hands—that almost instinctively clamped over my mouth.
He's...Edward.
Everything about him, from his unusual shade of chestnut-brown hair to his striking green eyes and pale skin—it's all Edward. The little boy that Edward often appears to be is standing before me in the flesh.
"Right...?" Jake mumbles in understanding from beside me. "Mate," he addresses him, and those sharp green eyes sever from mine and turn to Jake, "remember I told you your dad's getting married?" The boy nods, his gaze flittering to mine again momentarily. "This is his fiancé, Bella. Bella," Jake turns to me, "meet Tyler. Tyler Hawkins."
"Hey, Tyler," I say softly, but I can barely take a breath.
"Hi," he mumbles before he glances down at the can he continues to clutch. He's shy, and Christ, he's sucking in his cheeks exactly the same way Edward does.
I open my mouth to reply, but I'm speechless. I feel like I've just wandered into a bloody alternate universe. Edward's son is right before me. How the hell can this be real?
"Jake..." I turn to him and all but plead, but for what I have absolutely no idea.
"Come outside," he murmurs, glancing back over at Tyler. "Bella and I are going to talk for a moment, mate, okay? Do you want something to eat?"
"No," he answers, his eyes remain fixed on his hands, and my heart suddenly aches for him. He's scruffy, and his Manuka honey coloured hair hangs in his eyes.
"He didn't know, did he?" I put to Jake a little too desperately the moment he closes the sliding door to the balcony behind us.
"Of course, he didn't know. We heard the rumours, but Jesus, Lauren was such a mole. If I knew she was pregnant, Edward would have been the last person I would have assumed caused it."
"Jesus Christ..." I say in disbelief, pushing my fingers through the front of my hair.
"Are you okay?" he asks me, and in reply, I laugh humourlessly.
"Right now?"
"Yeah," he acknowledges, releasing his breath again. "Shit..."
"I guess it's official, Lauren Mallory is one giant recessive gene," I mumble numbly.
"Christ—right?" Jake replies in immediate agreement. "I thought kids are meant to get half their genes from their mother!"
"Oh my God..." I can only utter in continued disbelief as I gaze out over the harbour. "Why—why'd he go out with her?" I ask pointlessly, because it's not as if it's even relevant anymore.
"I set it up," he admits. "She was so easy she was a sure thing, and I figured she could loosen him up a bit. I gave him a condom but he was probably so uptight he forgot to put it on."
"Christ..." I repeat in a whisper. It's all I'm capable of at the moment. It's not often that I'm lost for words, but if there was ever a reason to be speechless, my fiancé's long lost son turning up unexpectedly would have to be it. "He's got to be...eleven," I say after doing the calculations in my head.
"Yeah, I thought that, too."
"Has he told you anything?" I ask, glancing up at him.
"He told me his mother died when he was born"—I snort caustically—"and his Nan raised him. A couple of years ago she died and he was put into foster care, but his foster mother was abusing him. He's full of bruises, Bella..." he drops his voice to a whisper in emphasis, and on impulse, I turn my head and gaze at the lost little boy sitting in Edward's grandfather's house.
Looking up, he catches my stare and almost smiles. He's so shy and sweet that the returning smile has spread wide across my face before I'm aware of it. He immediately blushes, his face turning a deep red, and I come very close to tears. He's adorable—he's beyond adorable—and I'm suddenly seething at the thought that he was mistreated.
"So...he ran away?"
"Yeah."
"How...did he know...?" I ask, becoming distracted. I'm not sure how Edward is going to take all this but well is definitely out of the question.
Jake reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, producing what looks like a birthday card that's folded in half. He opens it, it's torn and falling apart, and inside is written, "My dearest Tyler, Happy Birthday, love from Nanna," while beneath it is Edward's full name and address. His grandfather's address.
Taking it from him, I gaze down at it for the longest time until the words start to obscure and become nothing but a jumble of letters. "How'd he get here?"
"He hitchhiked," Jake answers, sounding oddly impressed as my breath immediately sucks in in horror.
"What?" I blurt, and Jake replies with a shrug. "Christ!"
"What are you going to do with him?" he ventures, his tone turning serious again.
"Take him home and wait for Edward," I answer almost vacantly.
"Okay," he nods, "but if Edward flips later, call me, alright? I'll calm him down."
I scoff dryly. "I think that's going to be a given." Then pulling open the sliding glass door, I head back inside.
"Hey, sweetie." I say gently sitting beside him on the sofa, "Would you like to go back to my house and wait for your dad?"
He nods, his eyes wide as they fix to mine. "Do you think he'll like me?" he asks, and he's so hopeful my heart splinters.
"He'll definitely like you," I assure him, "but honey, he never knew about you, so he's going to be pretty shocked in the beginning. Okay?"
He appears to contemplate my words for a moment before he nods again. "My nan said he never knew..."
"Do you know how much you look like him? You're just as handsome," I tell him, tipping his chin, and smiling awkwardly to himself, he blushes again. I'm on the verge of dying; this kid is killing me.
"My nan told me I look like him..." he mumbles, that ferocious blush working its way to the tips of his ears.
"You are adorable," I reply, too impulsively, wrapping my arm around his shoulders. He tenses slightly but doesn't attempt to avoid me. "You hungry?" I put to him and he nods for a third time. "Okay, we'll stop off for lunch, shall we?"
"Okay..."
"Do you want to hold my hand?" I offer, extending it to him. He's so much like his father after all, and I don't want to overstep with him.
He nods again and places his trembling hand in mine.
I break my gaze from him and glance up at Jake. I'm fairly certain my expression needs no explanation because Jake only nods his head in understanding.
"Okay, let's go," I say, turning back to Tyler and pulling him with me off the sofa. Christ, he's only a couple of inches shorter than I am. He's going to be tall, as well. "Thanks, Jake," I say.
"No worries, and get Edward to call me later, alright? See ya, mate," he addresses Tyler.
"Do you have my card?" Tyler asks him.
"Oh," Jake says as if suddenly recalling before he pulls it from his back pocket and hands it to him.
Tyler takes it, and it's obvious it's precious to him. He handles it as if it were fine china.
"Well, come on, sweetie." I lead Tyler down the hall toward the entrance with my legs shaking beneath me; no matter how hard I attempt to conceal it from him. It's funny how a day can start out so normal. I never expected this, not in a million years, but here I am; Edward's child following my lead and gazing up at me with an expression so familiar I can scarcely wrap my mind around it.
"So, what do you feel like for lunch?" I put to him after strapping him in the car beside me.
His eyes brighten and he opens his mouth to answer before shutting it again. "I don't mind."
I gaze at him for a moment, marvelling at how after only just meeting him I already have an overwhelming desire to protect him. "Okay, well, if you don't tell me I'm going to get us...McDonald's," I reply because I suspect that's what he was about to answer with.
He smiles all sunny and shy, and Christ, he's so much like Edward it's unnerving. "I was going to say McDonald's."
I draw in my breath, feigning surprise, then start the engine. "Great minds, huh?"
. . .
"Tell me about your Nan, Tyler?" I ask him after a couple of minutes into the drive. "Were you close?"
"Yeah," he answers, a palpable sadness reflecting in his tone, "but she died when I was eight."
"I'm sorry, sweetie. My parents died when I was young, too. I know how horrible it is," I say softly, reaching out to cup my hand to his cheek. His face is dirty, as are his clothes, and it's obvious he hasn't been cleaned in a while.
He regards me for a moment until a smile once more warms his face. I return it and he blushes again, looking down at his lap.
"Seriously, you are killing me with how adorable you are," I tease him, until I realise I'm essentially torturing him.
"When are you and my dad getting married?" he asks hesitantly a moment later.
"November," I answer simply.
"Is that your wedding ring?" He glances down at Ayer's Rock.
"It is. Nice isn't it?"
He nods, sucking on the inside of his cheeks again. "Is...my dad rich?"
I open my mouth to reply when I pause. I'm unsure what Jake told him, or even his grandmother. "Well...he's not poor..."
"Does he work in a big company? That's what my Nan said."
"His grandfather worked in a big company, but your dad is a school teacher."
"Oh," he says in a mumble.
"He'll like you, Tyler. I promise you," I feel the need to reassure him.
"Really?"
"Really. He likes anyone I like, and I think you're adorable."
He blushes again, and I really am torturing him.
I take him to the McDonald's in St Leonards, only a couple of minutes from my house. It meant travelling along the Pacific Highway for a few kilometres, but with Tyler beside me, I was too distracted to let it affect me.
"Do you want to get drive-thru or sit inside?" I ask, just as I'm pulling into the carpark.
"What do you want to do?" he puts it back to me. He's so incredibly uncertain, and I'm unsure whether it's his personality or a result of being abused in foster care.
"I'm honestly happy to do whatever you want to do," I insist.
"Can we sit inside?" he asks, his brows rising high.
"Sure," I say brightly. "How'd you get to Jake's house, sweetie?" I need a reason to clean him up without making him conscious of the fact that he obviously hasn't had a bath in Christ knows when. I also don't want anyone thinking I'm the one responsible for neglecting this sweet boy.
"A truck driver," he answers timidly.
"Ah, I thought as much. You're covered in diesel fumes," I tease him lightly, reaching into my purse for the small packet of wet wipes I carry with me. As clumsy as I am I'm often cleaning myself up. "Let's wipe it off."
He allows me to clean his face, hands, and arms while I pretend I don't notice the bruises that align his small body or the fact that he's dressed in filthy, poor quality clothes. I can only quietly fume to myself while making a mental note to be present when Edward faces the bureaucrats who did this to his son. I'm going to unleash hell.
"What do you feel like?" I ask, draping my arm around his shoulders as he gazes up at the menu.
"Um...a cheeseburger meal?" he replies, and I get the impression he's never had McDonald's before.
"A cheeseburger meal? Sure. What drink do you want? A soft drink or thick shake?"
"A thick shake," he answers.
"Chocolate?"
"Strawberry."
"I knew there was a reason I liked you." I nudge him and cue that adorable blush again. "What about dessert?"
"Really?" He turns to gaze at me, his eyes wide.
"Really."
"What are you going to have?" he puts it back to me again, and Christ, it's exactly what Edward does. There's no nature versus nurture debate with this kid so far.
"Hmm...caramel sundae. What about you?"
"Can...I have a McFlurry?"
"You sure can. What flavour?"
"Um..." he glances back up at the menu. "Oreo?" he asks me again, and it's definitely obvious he's never had McDonald's before. His eyes are lit up like it's Christmas morning.
"Certainly." I turn to the cashier to order. She notices my engagement ring, and Edward's platinum card that I hand her before her gaze pulls discreetly to Tyler and she raises a smug brow to herself. I'm not sure of the exact presumptions she's making, but I have the sudden compulsion to grab her by the scruff of her shirt and slap her silly.
Snatching the receipt she hands me, I glare at her, making her immediately cower, before Tyler and I move to the side to await our meal. He'd noticed the way I'd dealt with her, and for a moment he only stares at me. Then just when I realise I could have potentially scared him, wanting to kick myself, he suddenly smirks to himself.
After picking up our lunch, I find us a table away from the judgy little employee and watch as Tyler finishes his burger in three bites.
"When was the last time you ate, sweetie?" I ask him delicately as he starts on his fries; jamming at least ten of them in his mouth at once.
"Um..." he mumbles, his cheeks full of food while shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "The truck driver gave me a Milky Way this morning."
"That was nice of him. Did you have a lot to eat when you lived with your foster parents?"
"I only had a foster mother," he says in a quiet voice, his gaze downcast, and when he looks up at me again it's beseeching. "You won't make me go back there, will you, Bella?" Those acute green eyes of his well steadily with tears and I suddenly feel very volatile.
"Of course I won't!" I insist passionately. "Neither will your dad. I promise you, Tyler!"
"Are you going to keep me?" His voice drops to a whisper, and I inhale stiffly to hold off the rapidly building emotion.
"We're going to keep you," I reply without hesitation just as my heart squeezes in caution. I really shouldn't give him false hope until I can talk all this through with Edward, but I cannot imagine he'd turn his back on his own flesh and blood. Not with his childhood. Not the Edward I know.
Tyler smiles in obvious relief and hastily wipes away his tears. "Jake said you'd be nice to me."
"Why wouldn't I be nice to a sweetheart like you?" I tease him softly, my emotions wavering again before I'm forced to rein them back in.
He blushes and severs his gaze from mine to continue gorging himself on his fries while the smile remains on his lips.
"Would you like to see a photo of him?" I offer when he's halfway through his McFlurry. I need to get the kid to slow down. I'm starting to worry he'll choke.
He looks up; his expression is curious and more than a little eager. "Yeah."
Pulling my phone from my purse, I flick through to the photos of Edward and me in New Zealand. Then, finding the clearest one, I turn the screen around and hold it out for Tyler to see. "This is when we got engaged."
He stares at it for the longest moment, his eyes clearly absorbing every aspect of his father, before they turn back to me. "Whoa..." he utters. "He does look like me."
"You look like him," I correct him, grabbing his chin only to embarrass him again. "Okay, if I make you uncomfortable you can tell me. I'm just a grabber."
"A...grabber?" he repeats dubiously, reminding me so much of Edward on our first date that I laugh.
"You are adorable."
"I'm not uncomfortable. My Nan used to kiss me all the time," he explains, turning his flushed face from me to spoon more Oreo flavoured ice cream into his mouth.
After lunch, instead of going home, I head to Chatswood Westfields. It means being on the A1 freeway for longer than I'd usually be able to tolerate, but Tyler has nothing but the clothes on his back, and they're only good for the rubbish. I can't in good conscience not buy him more.
"How old are you, sweetie?" I venture, pulling into the underground carpark.
"Eleven," he confirms my calculations.
"When's your birthday?"
"March fourteenth."
"Ah, so you only just turned eleven. What did you get for your birthday?" I continue to probe when I realise what the hell I'd just said.
"Um...a...a football," he stammers, and he's not even remotely convincing.
"You didn't get anything, did you?" I ask him gently.
He bows his head and shakes it. "I'm sorry..."
My heart is practically bleeding for him, and reaching out, I grab his hand, squeezing it. "It's not your fault, sweetie."
In return, he flashes me an awkward smile and half shrugs.
"Would you like me to buy you one—a belated birthday present?" I suggest just as his eyes widen and his mouth drops open.
"Really?"
"Really," I tease him in an effort to put him at ease. The kid deserves eleven of them. One for every year he didn't get one from his father.
That smile of his immediately turns genuine. "O-okay."
"Come on, then," I say, pulling on the handbrake and opening the door.
I take him to Target first and buy him the necessities; socks and underwear, followed by pyjamas. After figuring out he's a size twelve, I let him choose his own. He goes with Guardians of the Galaxy and Star Wars themed, and I know immediately this kid is awesome.
For his clothes, I take him to David Jones. After what he's been wearing for Christ knows how long, he deserves something decent. Together we pick out five pairs of jeans, and as many shirts and jumpers. After, I head to the register while he follows me with his jaw hovering somewhere near the ground.
"Can you afford all this, Bella?" he whispers in disbelief as the sales assistant rings it up.
Curving my elbow around his neck, I pull him close to me. "Of course, I can afford it," I tell him covertly. I don't exactly want the saleswoman to hear.
She does anyway and offers Tyler a warm smile.
"Shoes," I add after we leave the store, shopping bags in tow.
I take him into the closest sports shop and buy him a pair of red chucks and a pair of Adidas. It's a good feeling to have a reason to spend Edward's money, and I can't think of a better one.
"Can I wear them now?" he asks, his eyes lighting up from their sharp depths.
"You sure can," I agree, and parking ourselves on the nearest mall bench, I help him tear off the cheap and nasty shoes he's wearing and holey socks.
Christ, even his feet are like Edward's.
I grab a pair of the socks I'd just bought him while Tyler pulls the crumpled paper from inside his new Adidas shoes, and just as my phone rings.
It's Edward.
"Hey," I greet him, and I'm unable to conceal my rather frayed emotions fully. "Has Jake said anything?" I ask no bloody reason why. It's not exactly the kind of thing you'd say over the phone, after all.
"No..." he answers, sounding slightly confused. "About the house, you mean?"
"Yeah!" I blurt, shaking my head to myself. "What's up?—are you going to be home on time today?"
"Same time as usual...Bella...?" he begins, and it's obvious he knows something's up. I'm not sure it's possible to completely fake it, though. "Want me to bring some dinner home?" he offers, and I'm glad he, for whatever reason, doesn't decide to push me.
"Sure, but get extra. I'm starving," I reply, glancing at Tyler and winking. He'd paused in the middle of tying his shoes, his ears obviously pricked as I speak to Edward; the father he fears will reject him.
"All right. Sure you're okay?" Yeah, there's not much getting past handsome these days.
"Yeah, just up to my eyeballs in work," I lie, laughing ironically to myself. "Don't be late, okay?"
"Okay..." he mumbles, and it's clear he's not buying any of it. I need to get off the bloody phone. "Love you."
"You're adorable," I tell him. My heart warming the same way it always does when he professes his love for me. I still find it hard to believe. Then catching myself, and almost too quickly, I hang up. "That was Edward—your dad," I explain to Tyler.
His face becomes almost vulnerable and he nods; sucking in those cheeks again.
"Hey, so how about that birthday present now?" I remind him.
"But...aren't my new clothes my birthday present?" he asks with uncertainty.
"Um, what kind of evil person would I be if I bought you clothes for your birthday?" I joke, and a grin immediately replaces his initial apprehension.
"Come on, handsome," I say, pulling him off the bench. "Those shoes look cool."
He's reluctant to tell me what he wants this time, and time's running out; Edward will be home soon. I take him back into Target and he hovers near the video games almost subconsciously, but without a television I know I'll have to get the next best thing.
"What about...an iPad?" I suggest just as he almost has a stroke.
"What? An iPad?" His voice practically fails.
"Don't you need one for school?" I ask, and he gives me a funny look.
"We only have computers at school. In the library..."
"Okay, well you definitely need one then." I'm insistent, because what school doesn't have bloody iPads? Or am I still living in the illusion of the inner Eastern Suburbs?
"But aren't they a lot of money?" he puts to me way too innocently.
"Tyler, you're eleven years old. If your father bought you a present every year on your birthday spending roughly one hundred dollars, that'd add up to eleven hundred," I attempt to reason with him. "So, in that retrospect, it's not a lot of money, at all."
He appears to contemplate it for a moment but isn't immediately sold. "Will he be mad?"
"He'll be mad, alright. He'll be mad no one told him you were born." I sling my arm around his shoulders. "So, no worrying, worrywart. You want an iPad?"
"Um...yeah." He's eager but really cautious at the same time, and Christ, does he remind me of Edward.
Five minutes later with an iPad Pro added to the list of bought items, we head back to the car. I have to get home before Edward; I need time to prepare him.
"Where am I going to sleep?" Tyler asks me shyly after I unlock the front door and lead him inside. He realises immediately my house is small.
"You can crash on the lounge tonight, but we'll work out something soon for the long-term. Don't stress, okay, sweetie?"
"Okay," he mumbles, a small smile tugging on his lips just as Oppa comes charging in from outside through his doggy door to greet him, and as Edward's car pulls to a stop in the carport.
"Bella...?" Tyler speaks up, sounding uneasy and going five shades paler.
"It's okay. I promised you, remember?" I remind him, wrapping my arm around his shoulders and leading him into the lounge room. "Stay here for a sec and I'll introduce him to you, all right?"
"All right," he echoes in a small voice, sitting down on the sofa and looking scared to death.
I have to get to Edward before he comes inside, and immediately exit through the front door to head him off. I'm nervous, so nervous I feel physically sick, and almost subconsciously I wrap an arm across my chest to mute the sound of my heart.
Edward pulls himself from the car, a plastic bag full of food in one hand and his briefcase in the other. He looks up and catches my gaze, breaking into a warm welcoming grin, but it quickly falls.
"Okay, what's going on?" he puts to me, his shoulders sagging behind a heavy breath.
My hands are shaking, and without realising it, I reach out and grab his shirt in my fist. "I need you to promise me something," I tell him, and my voice is serious. Too serious, but I can't help it.
"Bella..." He sighs.
"Edward, I'm not kidding. Promise me!" I beg him, knowing I sound as frazzled as I feel.
"Promise you what?" he asks. He's frustrated, and his eyes are burning with uncertainty exactly like the little boy's inside.
"That you'll stay calm..."
"Bella—Jesus, what the hell happened now!" he snaps, dragging his hand through his hair even as he remains clutching the plastic food bag.
"Just...stay calm, okay?" Releasing his shirt, I take his hand in mine. "Promise me."
"What do you want me to be calm about?" he asks with growing impatience.
"Just..." I begin, but shaking it from my thoughts, I turn toward the house without letting his hand go. I can't just tell him; I have to let him see Tyler for himself.
"Calm, remember?" I remind him in a whisper—knowing Tyler can hear me—after closing the front door behind us. Taking the plastic bag of food from him, I dump it on the hall table.
"I'm calm," he says huffing softly, his brow knotting, and grabbing his hand I lead him into the lounge room.
He takes no more than three steps when he abruptly stops; much the same way I did only a few hours earlier. His gaze fixes to Tyler, widening slightly in what is definitely shock, as Tyler himself immediately lunges to his feet.
They only stare at each other. Tyler, with such a raw expression that's engulfed with fear and insecurity, while Edward's is incomprehensible. He's in disbelief, but at the same time, I know he's seeing exactly what I saw when I first met Tyler.
Through Edward's eyes, I know his mind has already reached acceptance, even if he can't bring himself to speak it. That this young boy before him with the exact same shade of hair, and the same intensity swimming within identical green eyes, is his son.
Then, as if something snaps deep within Edward, he suddenly turns on his heel and leaves the room, and then the house; slamming the front door behind him. Tyler only stares after him, his wide eyes filling with tears.
"He's shocked, sweetie, that's all," I attempt to placate him before I turn and chase after Edward.
"Hey!" I yell, catching up to him just as he throws himself into his car.
"I...I didn't know, Bella. You believe me, don't you?" he pleads with me, his voice already so affected and his eyes completely overrun.
"Of course, I do!" I insist because I never once doubted him. "But...Edward, where are you going?"
"I have to find out—if he knew!" he answers, beginning to sound irrational.
"Who?" I ask softly.
"My grandfather," he says stiffly, his eyes dropping to the ground for a moment, his brow heavily ridged, when they again steel back to mine. "Look after him. I'll be back soon," is all he discloses, pulling the car door shut. Then, turning the ignition, he reverses out of the driveway so quickly his tyres screech against the concrete.
"Christ," I whisper, chewing subconsciously on my thumbnail. Then with a deep sigh, I turn and head back inside to Tyler.
He's still standing by the sofa as if he were frozen with his head bowed. He looks up as I enter, and my heart breaks for him; tears are streaming silently over his cheeks.
"Tyler..."
"—I knew he wouldn't like me."
A/N: yes, Tyler Hawkins, because he's my fave Patz role.
*Mole - skank.