AN: Trigger warning – Be aware, this chapter contains mentions of a suicide attempt!
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-=[Isabelle Higginbotham, the present ]=-
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The hushed conversation died away and Bella took the sound of shuffles that came in it's place to mean that Edward had all but shoved his brother out the door.
The apartment fell silent, the only movement being Edward sauntering back into the kitchen.
"Sorry about…. well, my brother," was what he said as he came into view. "I know he can be a bit of a nuisance."
Perhaps it was Bella's lack of response, or maybe he could feel the confusion radiating from her, because he stopped in his tracks raising a brow. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know… You tell me?" she said, turning the question back on him. "What else is there that you haven't told me, Edward? And how does it involve Grace?"
"Oh. So you heard that, did you? I didn't realize you were listening. "
"I heard something about you getting your coward ass kicked and him unleashing Rosalie's wrath and also, something about 'doing what's best for Grace'.
"Right. What can I say... You know what Em's like, he likes to push my buttons and give me well-meaning but often useless advise. In this case he's making a big deal out of something that is... well, it IS important, just not THAT urgent. I will tell you ab-..."
"I need you to be honest with me," Bella interrupted in a firm voice. "No games. No beating around the bush. Just the truth."
"I will. I'll tell you everything you want to know. Every last detail. But, can we at least eat first? Please? I don't think we should do this on an empty stomach."
She wanted to protest, she didn't like the idea of having to wait. However, Bella realized he was right. She hadn't eaten much of anything all day and was definitely running on fumes energy wise.
"Okay, fine… food first, then we'll talk," she agreed, with a sigh. "Don't think you can weasel your way out of this one, though. No more excuses. No more putting it off. No more funny business. No more distractions."
"Oh shot! And here I was, planning on dropping my clothes and serving dessert in the nude."
"You do that and I'll serve you your naked ass on a silver platter," Bella said. She tried to ignore the way her voice sounded like a petulant child.
"Now, now, don't be like that," Edward responded, sidestepping around her to get a pot out of the cupboard.
"Like what?"
He didn't answer, instead he said, "I was going to ask if you wanted to help me out by preparing some vegetables for a salad...but I'm not sure I trust you with a kitchen knife right now."
"If you think you're being funny, you're not," she scoffed at him, but without any bite to her words.
"Sorry… Neither one of us got much sleep last night," he offered as an apology. Filling the pot with water, he put it on the stove. "And that is another reason why I think we need to refuel with some food sooner, rather than later."
"Yeah, yeah… I am seeing much talk but no action. I'm beginning to think you don't even know how to get the water boiling!" she shot back, just because she could. "The stove won't turn on by itself, you know..."
"Alright smart-ass. I was getting to that." He threw her a quick glance, before proceeding to add a couple of dashes of salt to the water and turn on the heat. "You seem to be in rare form this afternoon – sharp-tongued and cranky, all at once."
"Oooh. Are you calling me a cranky? Is that so wise, Edward?"
"I also called you smart and sharp-tongued," he pointed out with a smirk. "But seriously, you seem a bit off. Is it your head? Is it still bugging you?" - Or is it something else? He didn't actually say that, but saw it in the expression on his face.
"My head hurts a bit, yes, but I'll be fine… " she responded after giving it some thought.
"Not if you don't take care of yourself."
"I don't have time to think about me." She wasn't sure how to put words to any of the thoughts swimming around in her mind. She wanted to give him something though…. some insight into where her thought were at. "There's so much else going on — so much drama and chaos, natural or man-made — and it have a way of overshadowing everything else."
"Yeah, I get that you have a lot on your mind. I guess that only adds to your headache."
"Honestly, I have to say the bruising I woke up with this morning bugs me far more than any headache ever could –And no, I'm not talking love bites here."
"Bruising?" He narrowed his eyes, looking somewhat confused and so she tugged the collar of her t-shirt away, showing him what she meant. There on the side of her neck was a reddish discoloration on her neck – an unwanted 'souvenir' from the previous night's parking lot attack.
"Not a good look. I know," she added, when he didn't say anything.
"I really do feel like you dodged something that could have ended really bad," he finally said, his voice strained. "Look, I get it, you don't like to be told what to do. Nobody does, but please be careful and-..."
"...don't do anything reckless. I know. I wasn't planning on it. But I'm not going to stop living my life just because some dickhead is out there being a dickhead… "
"Alright," he said as if he was agreeing, but the rest of his body language indicated that he was of a different opinion. He kept it to himself though. "Now on a different topic altogether," he said, turning to check on the water on the stove. "Penne, Rotelle or Tagliatelle?"
"Uhm… what?"
"Pasta. Which one do you prefer?" he clarified and opened a cupboard door, pointing inside, "Penne is cylindrically shaped and made from durum wheat," he added bringing the conversation back to something a little more neutral.
"I know what Penne is. Between those three, I think I prefer Tagliatelle," she said, shaking her head at his impressive pasta collection. "I must say, I did not peg you as a pasta junkie. All these years, I've mistakenly thought of you as a frozen pizza kind of guy..."
"Hey now…. Sometimes I want my carbs crunchy, chewy or crispy and other times I want them light and fluffy. I know my pasta, or well, the non-fresh variety anyway... and I like the feeling of knowing I have options."
"Kind of like Tanya.. and her appetite for men, then?" Bella asked innocently and hip-checked Edward out of the way so that she could get to the sink to wash her hands. She couldn't help herself, it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. "From what I've heard, it sounds like she's been keeping her options open."
"Oh, burn." He bowed his head and shook it from side to side. "I stepped right into that one, didn't I?"
"Yep," she responded matter-of-factly. "I have to side with your brother on this one, Edward. The mere idea of you and Tanya, dating or whatever, sounds completely bonkers… But also, I can't help but shudder at the whole cross-contamination and second-hand-exposure aspect of things… "
"Sorry about that, but you know me. I don't take any chances. Ever. And just to make sure, I have since then been tested - multiple rimes - and been deemed clean as a whistle."
"Right. Good to know." She dried her hands on a kitchen towel. "So… new Sous-Chef reporting for duty! I can manage veggie slicing and dicing, but my specialty is-..."
"….spoon-licking and desert sampling?" Edward suggested, his lips twisting into a smile.
"Not where I was going with this, but, yeah…. that too."
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"The Pannacotta mix was a bit of a hit and miss. That's fine though, because the tomato sauce was surprisingly good," Bella said, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin.
"Why so surprised? I told you I'm fully capable of putting together a perfectly acceptable pasta dish. And I still maintain you would have enjoyed the dessert more, if you had let me serve it to you naked. That was the original plan, you know… "
"That sounds a bit unsanitary… so much so, that I doubt you would have followed through," she quipped back at him. "And no, this is not a challenge to prove me wrong," she added quickly, when she saw him raise an eyebrow at her.
"Yeah, okay. I'm sorry the Pannacotta turned out lumpy. And I'm sorry I forgot to buy that wine, I promised you."
"No worries, the lemonade does the trick just as well."
While Edward had admitted he kept no alcohol in his home, he also claimed he had no problem with others drinking around him. He'd simply decided to stay off alcohol for the time being, more out of fear of replacing one addiction with another than anything else.
Bella could sympathize with that, especially considering what she'd been through with her parents growing up. Her father had been entertaining two major vices, beer and gambling, for as long as she could remember. Sue was the one that had helped get him back on the straight and narrow… but not without his health taking a toll. Bella's mother, on the other hand, seemed to have been addicted to prescription narcotics for many years prior to her 'accident' and death.
So, yeah… perhaps, Bella should let herself be inspired by Edward's determination and proactive approach. Because, despite being in a risk group herself, she still liked to treat herself to a glass of wine occasionally. Apart from alcohol though, she did not smoke or indulge in any other substances… and hadn't for years.
Just then, her shoulder was nudged. "Now, if you're done licking the plate," Edward started, with a bit of a smirk.
"Huh?" Bella gave herself a mental shake and looked at him quizzically.
"Your plate. Can I have it? I'd like to clear the table and load the dishwasher."
"If you must," she sighed, looking up at him, suddenly feeling fed up with waiting. "What happened to that conversation we were going to have after dinner? Don't think I've forgotten about it…."
"Come on. Five more minutes won't kill you," he responded without meeting her eyes.
Geez, why did he have to be so shady about all this? He'd fessed up about Tanya… what else could he be 'sitting' on, that he felt was worse than that?
"No excuses. You promised, Edward," she reminded him.
He exhaled in a little huff. "Give me two seconds to clean up and start the dishwasher. You know me, I focus better when everything is where it should be. I don't deal with messes well."
Was he really using his OCD to buy himself more time? She held her tongue, but just barely.
"You can use my bathroom to freshen up," he suggested. "I'll meet you in living room, once I'm done here."
"Fine," she finally agreed.
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Five minutes later the kitchen was spotless and the dishwasher was humming. Edward seemed to be MIA though. Bella had poked her head into both kitchen and living room, but found them empty at first glance.
"Where did you go, Edward?"
"In here."
The sound of his voice led her back to the couch... where she found him, on his knees, half hidden behind the coffee table. He appeared to be feeling around underneath the couch cushions as if looking for the remote or something.
"What are you doing?" she asked, stepping into the room. "I mean, no need to be fluffing the pillows on my account."
"I'm just tidying up a bit. I found a half eaten, peanut butter sandwich on the floor. Sticky side down. So, you know… just checking to make sure that my brother didn't leave any other surprises behind."
"Ah, I see."
"Almost done. You can sit here." He pulled her around to the other side of the couch and patted for her to sit down.
"I'm a bit confused though. Why would Emmett leave a sandwich behind and not eat it?" she said with a frown. "That's like unheard of. Was there something wrong with it?"
"No. I don't get it either. I was thinking maybe he dropped it last night when we ran outside to catch that low-life scum prancing around in a ski mask." Edward sighed, placing the last cushion back in its place. "There, the couch is safe."
"Excellent. How about you sit down with me?"
"Certainly." He sank down next to her, close, but not too close.
"I'm ready whenever you are," she said, folding her hands in her lap.
"Right. So..." He cleared his throat, as he too assumed a serious pose. "Remember how we spent a big part of last night talking...We covered a lot of ground, wouldn't you agree?"
"Sure. It was a difficult, but necessary, talk."
"Five years is a long time though… Possibly too long of a time period to catch up on it in one go. What I'm saying is that I may have left out a few things-..."
"Things? As in plural?" she interrupted him, without really meaning to.
"Yes, things," he confirmed. "I had to make some on-the-fly decisions last night about what things you needed to know straight away and what things could wait. If you pile one shock on top of another they quickly become this unscalable mountain."
"Right, but-..." She started to speak, but he motioned for her to wait.
"Not only did I leave some things out, but also, I didn't set you straight when you made some assumptions last night that weren't necessarily100% correct."
"What assumptions?"
"Well… about Gracie, for starters. I got the impression that you seem to think she's been living with my parents all this time. I don't blame you for thinking that, but it's not actually the case-..."
"But you said-..."
"I know what I said. I said she's in Forks and I said your father didn't want to be the one raising her. I also said that when she was first released from the NICU, she went home with my parents."
"Yeah, exactly. So where is she, if she'd not with your parents? I don't get it."
"I'll tell you in a minute. There is another thing I need to tell you, before we get to that," he said, calmly. "Bella, I wasn't sent off to Alaska for rehab and therapy because of an unintentional overdose."
"You weren't?"
"No. I mean, I was a mess that summer, but I wasn't out partying non-stop, like you assumed. Instead, I pretty much isolated myself to my bedroom, for weeks at a time, to binge on alcohol, weed, and some other unmentionables. I basically only ventured outside when I needed to restock or when my parents demanded to see me."
"What, exactly, are you saying?" she asked in a small, uncertain voice.
"I'm saying the overdose wasn't an accident, and it wasn't unintentional."
"You…you tried to kill yourself?" She presses a hand to her mouth as she struggled to wrap her mind around this shocking news. "What happened?"
"I failed. Ultimately, that's what happened. I took antidepressants, sleeping pills, and some other crap, but I got violently sick before it could fully effect me. That's probably what saved me… that and my need for being in control even in the ugliest of situations."
"I was completely covered in my own puke, which wasn't how I intended my body to be found," he went on explaining in a slow, careful tone, his voice a bit distant. "I couldn't do that to my mom, or Alice. So I shoved my fingers down my throat and puked some more and then I made a phone call."
"You called an ambulance?"
He shook his head. "I called my brother, to let him know he had to get to me first and cover my dead body with a sheet or something. I called him, thinking he'd understand why I felt the need to leave this earth. He didn't, of course."
"No, of course not. He loves you." Her voice broke on the last two words.
"I didn't realize Emmett had plans with dad that day. I didn't realize he was just minutes away from pulling up on the driveway, or that dad was out there waiting for him. They managed to break into my bedroom and call 911 in a matter of minutes."
Bella couldn't get a word out. Images came rushing to her mind, and they were as clear as if she'd been in the room with him.
"You know the rest," Edward continued. "I was rushed to the hospital and got my stomach pumped, which made me feel terrible for wasting resources and a hospital bed when all I wanted to do was die."
"Edward… I-...I don't know what so say." Her eyes started to fill with tears and he grabbed her hand.
"Don't cry, I'm okay now," he said, and she looked up at him. "No. Really. I am. I didn't want to tell you about this last night, because I didn't want it to overshadow any of the other things we talked about..."
"I'm glad you're alive," she managed.
"So am I. I didn't really want to die – I don't think. I just couldn't continue on living the life that I was having. I desperately needed a shift in my existence, an escape. As cliché as it may sound, it was a cry for help."
"A very dangerous one, Edward. What if they hadn't been able to get to you in time?!"
He squeezed her hand again. "I've tried to move away from the 'what if's', I'm alive and I'm stronger and in a much better place mentally and emotionally."
Bella wished she could say the same. Sometimes she felt as though her happiness was just within reach. Other times, it felt as though it was miles away.
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"Thank you," Bella said accepting the tea mug from Edward.
They'd taken a break for some leg-stretching and some coffee. But their conversation conversation never really stilled. Bella had many questions and Edward did his best to answer, if not all the questions, then certainly most of them.
"So basically, it came down to them choosing between helping you, or being there full time for Grace?" she asked thoughtfully, as she followed him back to the couch.
"I never asked my parents to do that," Edward sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. "Then again, I never bothered to hide the fact that I didn't want anything to do with that baby. I didn't want to see her, or hold her, or even listen to them talk about her. So, I guess you're not wrong. They had to make a decision-.."
"Wait. So Grace was the reason why you were isolating yourself?"
"One of the reasons, yeah. I was in a dark place and nothing felt right. My anxiety was at an all time high and my OCD was flaring up like you wouldn't believe it."
"No, I believe it. I'm quite familiar with that dark place myself. Same… but different, you know..."
"Right. So, I spent that summer avoiding baby Grace at all cost, but my parents weren't making it easy on me. I mean, they said they understood. Yet, every now and then they'd try and stage something that involved me ending up in the same room as the baby… hoping that repeated, or prolonged exposure, or some psychoanalytic shit like that, would spark some type of parental instinct."
"Oh." Bella floundered for a diplomatic answer. "That sounds…less than ideal for everyone involved."
"Yeah. It was stressful… and absolutely the last thing I needed."
"So you stopped heading over to your parent's house all together, because of the risk of-..."
"...having to watch a messy, screaming baby, while mom left the room to fetch some baby Tylenol, or a cold rag, or a teething ring or whatever excuse she would come up with…. Those kinds of situations kept happening time and time again… and I just couldn't handle it."
"So where did she go? Grace, I mean. Where did she go once your parents realized they had to listen to and respect your wishes?"
"Well… since the very beginning, Mom has had someone helping her watching Grace a couple of afternoons a week, while she worked. This person, a young, soon to be first time mom, was in need of both cash and some hands-on practice taking care of a baby. It was a good arrangement for everyone involved…. at least initially… "
He paused to draw in a deep breath before he continued, "When I came home from Alaska - the first time around - they had modified their arrangement, so that Grace was staying with this person four, sometimes five, days at a time. My parents would visit everyday, of course, and then bring the baby home over the weekends, or whenever I was out of the house, or otherwise occupied. They did their best to work around my schedule as much as they could. It was a shitty solution and it was never going to work in the long run … It was as though everyone put their own lives on hold while they waited for me to make enough progress to be able to get a place of my own and move out. That's an awful lot of pressure to put on someone already battling anxiety, plus it was not fair on Gracie… She deserved stability and a loving home then and there… not one, or five years down the road."
"You had a relapse, didn't you?" Bella guessed. "That's why you went back to Alaska a second time."
"Not quite a relapse, but close enough to create tension and stress. I went back, because I felt my anxiety creeping up on me again."
"Sounds like you made a good call."
"Yeah, I just need a little more time to sort everything out. "
"So…. Grace? Where is she now if she's not with your parents? Who's she with?" Bella asked again, not ready to let the subject drop just yet. Less risk of running into the child unprepared, if she knew who she was living with…
"Bella, I want you to know she has two very devoted and loving parents that would like nothing more than to adopt her and legally become her parents. She already sees them as her family and she has four younger siblings that she absolutely adores. She couldn't be in a better place."
"That's great, but you know my number one wish was for her to growing up someplace far, far away from Forks."
"I know… All I can say is that living in Forks has not been problematic for her as of yet. That might change once gets older, of course. But so far she is oblivious to the drama surrounding her arrival to this world."
"I know firsthand what it's like to have people talking about you behind your back… it hurts. Especially, when it's over something you can't change or don't have any control over. "
"I know, I know," he said holding his hands up defensively.
"Do you really, Edward? Kids can be so cruel and teenagers can be even 'crueller' because they have had more time to practice. She'll grow up and go to the same high school you and I did. Was high school a pleasant experience for you? Did you like the name-calling, the back stabbing and the nasty comments? I know I didn't."
He made a face as if getting her point. "Okay, but there is no guarantee her high school experience would be any 'rosier' if she were growing up someplace other than here. High school is still high school, you know… I can tell you one thing though, she's got Rosalie in her ring corner and Rosalie won't stand for any form of bullying behavior that threatens any member of her family. "
"Rosalie? Emmett's Rosalie? I mean… what does she have to do with anyth-..."
"She's her mom, Bella. Grace has been living full time with Emmett and Rosalie, since she was about a year and a half old."
"Excuse me...What?!"
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