Chapter 26: In Time

I will be better

and we will be stronger

FKA Twigs—In Time

I learned a lot in my conversation with Jacob.

After swinging by the diner early that next morning, he'd told me about some of his and Bella's wildest misdeeds. Apparently, and to Billy's dismay, the grease fire incident wasn't the worst thing the two had done!

Jacob had known Bella his whole life, so if anyone understood her quirks, it was him. He'd witnessed her familial issues from the beginning. Watched as she formed friendships and eventually romantic relationships. He knew the history behind her likes and dislikes. As well as what fueled her strengths and weaknesses. He was a wealth of knowledge even though he was careful not to divulge too much.

There was another, perhaps more vital reason I'd reached out to him. There were things I felt Bella overreacted to. Cultural things she said I wouldn't understand. But I wanted to. I wasn't ashamed to say that it was the source of many disagreements, and I hoped he could offer perspective.

"Well, that was your first mistake. Telling her she's overreacting to something you've never experienced. I bet you told her to calm down after she was already mad, too. Didn't you?" He laughed."

Being able to ask him inane questions and get the unfiltered truth in return was appreciated. Yet, when all was said and done, it was Billy who provided real insight.

"I would say I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but that would be a lie," he shrugged, wiping down a recently vacated booth. He paused, turning to lean against the table.

"Have you considered that your problems aren't related to white Edward and black Bella. Rather, they are "Over-controlling parent" Bella and "Must be in control" Edward?"

Well fuck.

It had been two weeks since I'd decoded Bella's cryptic message. I knew that she was waiting for me, she had said as much with the poem, but waiting for what exactly?

She was the one that wanted to take a break. She decided to end it. She decided that what we had wasn't worth fighting for. Why couldn't she just reach out to me? Either way, I stood by what I said.

"Either you love me or you don't. No break is going to change that."

Talking with Jacob opened my eyes to a lot of things but nothing to help me solidify my next steps. I took that time to think about the problems that had plagued our relationship. We'd both made mistakes but I felt most of the missteps were my own. As ready as I was to run back to her, to make everything right, I knew we'd just end up back in the same predicament.

Because nothing changes if nothing changes.

I'd thought about what Billy said. Race would inevitably be a part of our relationship, but the things we struggled with were the same growing pains all couples went through. There was a lot we needed to learn if we wanted to weather the storm together. It was what we needed to unlearn that concerned me.

I knew we both had some unresolved issues from our pasts. The way they'd impacted our relationship was only now becoming clear. I also knew it wasn't up to me to point out what those issues were for her; I could only examine myself.

Carlisle had spoken to me, albeit briefly, about neglect and abuse. At the time, I couldn't make the connection, couldn't see how it played a part in what I'd been dealing with. Yet, having spent my whole life barely coping with my problems, I figured that seeking real help might not be a bad idea.

Besides, if Bella and I were ever going to have a real chance, I couldn't just focus on becoming my own man; independent of the Masen name. I needed to take steps to heal from my past.

I needed to be whole.

I might not have understood what the wait entailed, but I couldn't endure one more day of this. Feeling hopeful one moment and discarded the next.

With that thought, I decided it was time to say something to Bella, an acknowledgement of sorts. I pulled up a blank text message and composed a quick meaning may have differed from hers, but the sentiment was the same.

One less day.

"Okay, why don't we talk about how you're feeling?"

"I feel pretty shitty today. If I can be brutally honest." Senna nodded as if to remind me that brutal honesty was expected. "I haven't missed work or school," I quickly added, wanting her to know that I'd been following through with our plan.

"But today…today I found it hard to get out of bed. This appointment is the only reason I did."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Edward. But that is a very non-specific answer from a very precise person." Senna was reserved, allowing me the time I needed to work through my thoughts.

"When did you start feeling this way?" she asked, encouraging me to continue.

At our first session, I wasn't sure what to expect, but she wasn't it. Her silky black hair hung down her back and her dark mahogany skin glowed. She was attractive and looked like she should've been on a runway, not in an office. Her beauty aside though, I wasn't sure if she would be the right therapist for me.

I didn't know a lot about her Amazonian heritage, only what I found on her online bio. But I knew enough to know that talking to her about my bigoted father would be awkward.

I told her as much and she'd put those worries immediately to rest. Letting me know that she was there to listen and to help me on my journey. She was not there to judge me in any way, shape, or form.

She'd also pointed out that I was brave and blunt enough to share why I was hesitant to work with her. And that alone was proof that I felt comfortable enough to open up.

"Edward, that kind of honesty on a first visit is rare. Your hard truths are both accepted and expected here, but your comfort is paramount. The choice is yours."

I relaxed then and had been an open book to her ever since. She definitely had a way of making me see things differently.

"Uh, I was doing better but late last night. I just don't know," I said.

"Okay. Did something happen or do you feel like it just came out of left field?" she asked.

Thinking about the voicemail I'd received from my mother last night, I took a deep breath, ready to begin.

"Well, she wants a big wedding but we don't have money for that," Emmett said, massaging his forehead in an attempt to chase away his headache."Oh, and she wants it during the holiday break!"

I looked around at the several sets of eyes that were now looking our way, and waved them off as I quieted Emmett. We'd met at the campus library, something we'd started shortly after Halloween.

For obvious reasons, I didn't think it was a good idea to study at Brewed Awakenings. However, my friends didn't like being 'shut out' as they'd put it. Although they had opinions, no one shared their thoughts or chose sides. They reminded me that our relationships hadn't changed.

And truly, that was one prediction from Tanya that I'm happy never came to pass.

At any rate, I wasn't willing to attend Sunday brunches anymore. Considering the tradition started long before my arrival, it was only fair for me to sit them out. Weekly dinners and random visits to the piano room were enough to placate Esme.

"But you do," I said, focusing my attention back on Emmett."Have the money, I last name is literally on half of the construction signs in this city. Is that really the issue or are you having second thoughts?" I asked.

Emmett had been especially worked up over the last few days and now I understood why. With the holiday season just around the corner, she was asking for the impossible. We were also in the middle of finals. There was no way they could study for exams while planning a wedding.

Nevertheless, he was racking his brain. Not for his upcoming statistics exam, but on finding a last minute venue. Most were already booked for either religious services or holiday parties.

"That's the family name," he scoffed. "You know how that works. Not that they'd have any issue helping, but I want us to do this on our own. If she'd just be patient!"

"Em, I hate to ask. But the rush...you didn't break your chastity clause and put a bun in the oven?"

"No!" he immediately answered. "Not that that's been easy with the way she walks around the house lately. Why did I think living together was going to be a good idea?"

He and Rosalie had moved in together soon after she'd accepted his proposal. At the time, I couldn't help but wonder where that left Bella. No roommate and living so close to Jasper. The urge to do something was so strong, but I remained quiet. That wasn't my place anymore. It never had been.

"Well, maybe that's the point. Maybe she's having a hard time, too. Just talk to her, Em. Trust me, stressing over this before you've actually had a conversation about this new urgency, is a mistake," I warned, clapping him on the back. He stopped typing on his laptop and stared into space as I took the seat across from him.

"Yeah. Yeah you're right," he sighed, finally relaxing his posture."Look at you, bro. I'm proud of you," he began.

"Em, don't start,"

"No, really. Honestly," he cleared his throat, looking directly at me. "The way you've handled everything. You might be my lil' bro, but I look up to you. And it's nice having my own Dr. Phil around. God knows I need it nowadays,"he finished, his dimples deepening with his smile.

"Well, Senna has been great," I said, finding it hard to recall the last time I'd had a nightmare or felt undeserving of anything. Or of anyone for that matter. "There's still work to do," I shrugged.

"For all of us," Em, chimed in. "No one is perfect and all of us are toxic in some way. Some of us embrace self-awareness while others ignore accountability. The Doc might be great, bro, but you've been committed to doing the work. So, accept the damn compliment, Dorothy."

"Whoa! That was pretty deep, Blanche." At Emmett's raised fist, I gave in. "Alright, alright, I accept,'' I chuckled, throwing my hands up in mock surrender.

I was happy that this relationship couldn't be counted as a loss. Em, and consequently, Rosalie, had front row tickets to my breakdown and they never skipped a beat. Even on the days that I couldn't get out of bed, they were there: sending texts, leaving notes and ignoring all of my demands that they "go away!"

"You know," I started, distractedly. "I've learned that love and attachment have nothing to do with each other. There's no mileage on love...some connections just need space to survive. Some connections need to be released for you to breathe. But some... some need to completely die in order to be reborn."

When Bella needed a breather, it didn't necessarily mean she didn't love me.

Senna and I had been working on my abandonment issues as well as what Emmett called my,"inner control freak." And though the frequency had significantly decreased, I still found myself feeling somber when I thought about what I'd lost.

I knew that I couldn't control who came and went from my life. Trying to make people stay would be counterproductive to wanting them to do what made them happy. Even if that left me alone.

But sometimes...

Sometimes I wanted to find Bella and tell her that I loved her. That being without her was difficult. Sometimes I wished I could go back in time and tell my dad that I loved him, though I no longer needed him in my life. But as much as I desired those things, I would not die without them.

I had been careful not to ask about Bella. If she were mentioned, I'd zone out until the subject was changed. Besides, she didn't need me checking in on her, she had a good support system. I knew this because they supported me as well.

It wasn't that I didn't care and it wasn't about pride, it was about my own mental health. It was about recognizing and respecting boundaries for myself as well as others.

Personal growth.

I had reached the point where I didn't know if she was still waiting for me. There was also the issue of what she was waiting for. It still wasn't clear, but maybe too much time had passed and she'd already moved on.

By no means was I waiting to become some perfect version of myself so I could go and sweep her off of her feet. Yet, there was still that slight fear of rejection. What if my best wasn't enough?

We still texted each other, a fact our friends weren't aware of. The messages never varied, just the same phrase sent back and forth. And though recently the texts had become sporadic, we'd occasionally remind each other of that promise of one less day. As days turned into weeks, my original interpretation of her message changed.

Perhaps I was the one who was supposed to wait on her.

"She misses you. I know, I know...Don't ask, don't tell, but... she says she cant feel you anymore," Emmett revealed. I was so lost in my own thoughts that it took me a moment to make sense of what he was saying. My confusion must have shown and he took that as his cue to continue.

"Right! I asked her to spare me the sordid details of your sex life!" he exclaimed, scrunching up his nose before he took on a more serious tone. "Anyhow, that wasn't what she meant and I didn't need her to explain it further. I've only ever felt that with Rosalie. When she left me, it disappeared," he said, shaking his head at the memory. "I just can't imagine…"he trailed off.

There were days where I swore I felt the remnants of that electrical charge, but as soon as I'd felt the gentle hum begin, it ceased. I shook my head.

Some connections need to be released in order for you to breathe. I'd focus on that.

"Em," I began, ordering my thoughts even as I spoke."The message from my mother?"

"Um, yeah?" he said, clearly thrown off by the change of subject. "Did you make a decision?"

"I did. After my biology final," I confirmed. "So, do me a favor and try to hold off on exchanging vows?" I gathered my things and began shoving them into my bag.

"Wow! Yes, of course. And in case my talk with Rose fails, I'll be able to cite my missing best man as the reason we have to wait," he smirked.

"Fine, I'll be your excuse. But only as a last resort," I warned. I didn't want Rosalie's wrath."I need to do something. Catch you later?" I asked.

"Yeah, later bro," he replied, finally pulling out his statistics book.

"I'm really sorry. I feel guilty about all the things I've said and the way I've treated you. There were just so many things going on in my head and the liquor didn't help. I think the anxiety from repressing my emotions just got out of hand, I don't know," I paused in my pacing and took a deep breath, trying to slow my thoughts.

"No, that's not right. I do know. All of that's true but ultimately, I was angry and I took it out on you. For that, I'm truly sorry," I finished.

"Ya, know. No one has ever apologized to me before," Tanya whispered with tears rolling down her cheeks. She sniffed and turned to face me. "It wasn't all your fault. I've thought about it. A lot actually. You were trying to keep it together and I kept pushing you to talk about it."

"Still," I hedged, taking a seat. "I see you practically everyday and I've ignored you out of my own shame and guilt. I know none of this was your fault and it wasn't fair to you."

I wasn't going to ask for her forgiveness because that wasn't fair either. She'd confided in me. Told me her own experiences of being abandoned by those she wanted love and attention from the most. And if anyone should have empathized, it was me.

Instead, I turned around and became the very thing she feared. She was owed this apology, whether she accepted it or not.

"Why are you doing this? Some type of twelve-step program," she laughed and a fresh round of tears threatened to spill. I laughed too, hoping it would cut some of the tension.

"Nah, but I will be leaving earlier than the official start of winter break and who knows…' I shrugged.

"You're not retur..." she started, but I interrupted.

"And who knows if I would've seen you before then." I clarified, rising to my followed suit, wiping her eyes as she slowly regained her composure.

"Well, good luck on your finals," I said, heading for the stairs. I didn't expect to find her, let alone convince her to listen to anything I had to say. So, I wouldn't keep her.

"Edward?" she called when I was halfway through the stairwell door. I turned back, giving her my full attention. She must have reached some conclusion within herself as she approached me and quickly kissed my cheek.

"I forgive you."

"Thank you," I said sincerely, squeezing her hand briefly before l left.

This is the final boarding call for all passengers booked on Delta flight DL3616 with direct service to Vancouver. If you have a confirmed ticket…

"Sounds like this is your last chance," Senna said, easily able to hear the announcement through the loud speaker. "You know you are not obligated to do this, but I know that you can handle it. You can do this," she reaffirmed.

I stood in front of the gate with my cell phone in hand and my backpack thrown loosely over my shoulder. Yet, I was utterly frozen. I called Senna's emergency cell phone number, even though I swore I never would, but the panic had set in.

My mother left a voicemail that said my father had had a stroke. She'd left no further details other than the contact information for a long term care facility he'd been admitted to. It was apparently "too much" for her to handle and she'd be visiting an old family friend in Florida for an undisclosed amount of time.

I'd called the facility to confirm his condition, and when it was clear to me he was not in immediate danger, I put the info away. Unwilling, unable, to deal with it at that time.

"Edward, are you still there?" Senna asked, her voice peaceful as always. I cleared my throat, feeling silly for having called her.

"I'm here. Just...walk through the jetway with me?" I asked. She quickly agreed and said she'd remain on the line until I no longer needed her or I powered down the phone. I sighed in relief as I stepped forward and reached for my boarding pass.

I wanted to be anywhere else in the world.

My hands fidgeted, itching to call Senna back. True to her word, she stayed on the phone until I'd put it in airplane mode. She'd even waited patiently knowing that I'd call back as soon as I'd landed. Sighing, I grabbed my things and exited the taxi, the facility administrator was expecting me.

The facility looked eerily similar to my own job with the exception of more patients milling around. Some carried oxygen tanks, while others sat immobile, being wheeled around.

"Mr. Masen, I presume? Right this way."

After what felt like a lifetime, I was being led to see my father. Phrases like power of attorney, acute stress, and not out of the woods yet, still floated around my mind.

An envelope had been given to me that included keys to the current Masen home, as well as papers to sign regarding my father's continuity of care. I could only assume in his haste to disown me that he'd forgotten to update some key documents, accidentally leaving me in charge.

"Here we are, sir. As you were informed, he has aphasia so communication is still difficult at this time. Just be patient, he will need time to process what you're saying." I nodded. The nurse squeezed my shoulder before turning on her heel and disappearing down the hall.

When I entered the room, my father was lying on the bed, his head facing the window. He made no indication that he was aware someone had entered, so I took that time to gather my thoughts.

Working at the hospital had taken away the shock I anticipated I'd feel at seeing him that way. I expected to feel more...I couldn't say exactly, but more of something. I moved toward his line of sight, ready for whatever.

"Dad?" I greeted, vaguely wondering if I should have called him by his first name. "Mom, I mean, Elle called me," I said, taking a seat. His eyes found me as I lowered myself unto the small chair across from the bed. When I looked up again, his focus was completely on me.

I sat there and took in my surroundings as I reminded myself to be patient with him. In spite of his condition, I wondered what he was thinking and what fresh pain he'd deal to me.

"You came," he finally said. His words were heavily slurred but unmistakable. I wanted to tell him, of course I'd come. I wanted to ask him why my mother, his wife, had left. I wanted to assure him that I loved him even though the feelings may not have been mutual.

"Yes, of course," I nodded instead.

"Still my son," he added, his eyes flickering to some distant spot.

"Your son, but my own man," I promptly responded, feeling a tinge of the anger I had felt upon last seeing him. I no longer had the need to justify my relationship to him, but I needed him to know that I was Edward Masen, Jr.

I may have been provided for by the Masen's. But I was cared for by multiple women of all ethnicities. He did not raise me. I was his son only in name. My heart, my thoughts, and my beliefs were my own.

His eyes moved back to me and I couldn't help but see the regret, but there was something else there. Joy? Had he equated my presence as a win?

"Certainly my son," he began, and I quieted myself, not wanting to further exacerbate his condition with the need for my own closure.

"Fought my own father for Elle," he continued. "He forbade it. She was too young, only after the name, the money," he closed his eyes then, and I looked away at the sadness present when they reopened. "...love her."

My mind was reeling as I tried to make sense of what he was saying, as I tried to rein in my own latent anger. My grandfather disapproved of my mother? I reflected on the words that Senna had said to me on our last phone call.

"Closure is an inside job. No one can give you that."

"I was angry and upset with your absence, and then with your presence," I started, "but right now...right now I will try to listen." That was all I would give.

I flopped down on the bed, completely exhausted. The busyness of the last week was catching up to me and my body felt it. The keys to the latest Masen manor were in my pocket, but I had no desire to stay there, choosing instead to honor my hotel reservation.

With the nurses okay, I'd stayed well past scheduled visiting hours, promising to allow my father intermittent periods of rest.

"It'll be good for him," she said. "Your mother has been gone awhile now."

For as much as I thought I'd be emotionally drained, I didn't feel that way. It was just an overwhelming intake of information.

According to Dad, my grandfather threatened to disown him if he married Elle. She'd been too young and immature. My grandmother had complained that she was cold and only wanted the Masen wealth. He'd ignored all their warnings and threats because he loved her.

Because they saw that he wouldn't let her go, they accepted her on one condition. That everything passed down to him, would in time, go directly to his heir. If there were no progeny, it was to be donated, in their name, to the Chicago Children's Hospital.

As time went on, he started to see the things my grandparents were concerned about, but it was too late. None of it changed how he felt for her. He wanted to give her anything her heart desired, and he did. The only thing he wanted was to start a family, and soon enough, I was born.

In his attempt to revoke my trust fund, she'd found out that only his heir apparent had final say on the family trust; something even he couldn't change. That led to arguments and frustration. Things had turned so quickly, that out of uncertainty, he'd added me as his POA.

She'd left as soon as he was moved from impatient care to the skilled nursing facility.

There were so many questions I wanted to ask, but he clearly needed rest. I promised to return the next day, and we sat in comfortable silence until he fell asleep.

The next few days went much the same. I'd check in with Esme or Carlisle and then visit my dad after his rehab session. He had good days and bad days. On the good days, he told me more about my grandparents, his travels, and his regrets. I asked questions and listened to whatever he had to say.

On the bad days, he had trouble remembering things or he'd get frustrated with his inability to speak clearly. Those days, I was the storyteller. I filled him in on my job, school and my friendships. I also told him how embarrassed and disappointed I was in him. How angry and hurt he'd made me feel. That up until recently, I was a mess.

He was especially worried he wouldn't see me again on those days, and would slip me barely legible notes asking that I return.

On my eighth visit, Dad greeted me with "You look so much like her." Usually bringing up my mother's absence rendered him mute, but he seemed in good spirits.

"I have to go back soon," I said, not knowing how to respond. "The doctor says you're looking good, inside and out."

"Don't leave hating me," he sighed.

"I'm not angry anymore," I said truthfully. "I understand your concerns a little better and I know what you went through, but you weren't concerned that I was with a bad person. You judged her based on one thing. I love you, I do. But it's hard to miss something you've never really had." At his pained expression, I wanted to stop talking, but I couldn't hold it in anymore. "And if that's really how you view the world, view people...I'm good without it," I finished.

It was my turn to sigh. I leaned over and reached for his hand."I don't hate you. It's up to you where we go from here."

"I'd like to order room service."

I'd been in Canada for longer than I planned and felt uneasy about leaving. The trip was nothing like I'd expected it to be. All the same, I couldn't say that the circumstantial reunion had done anything other than leave me with unanswered questions. I could search for answers all my life, but I was ready to move forward.

Senna and I kept our appointments via phone, and she actually laughed when I told her that nothing had imploded."You don't give yourself enough credit,'' she'd said.

In the last few hours however, my mind continuously wandered to Bella. Maybe it was from listening to my father, understanding that he loved my mother so much that he was willing to forsake everything, myself included.

My feelings for Bella had once mirrored his own, and I could see now, that the kind of love I desired wouldn't be like that. It wouldn't be so all encompassing that we forgot ourselves and deserted others. I wanted more.

Anyways, it was just as likely she'd been in my thoughts because it had been awhile since I'd received a text from her.

Whatever the reason, I wanted her with me. Not out of some codependent need or sense of loneliness, but I sincerely missed her. I was tired of waiting, tired of the distance. If there was no future, I wanted to know so I could do what I needed to do to move on.

Fuck it.

Pulling out my phone, I sent Bella a text message, double-texting her when I realized what day it was. She was probably busy with her family.

I miss my best friend.

Merry Christmas.

As I waited for my food to arrive, I raided the mini-bar, downing two bottles of whisky before sending greetings to the Cullen's, Em and Rose. I'd thought to send one to my mother but decided against it. I'd let my actions show her where I stood.

My eyes were heavy but sooner than I could lie down there was a knock at the door. The whiskey hit me harder than I'd thought because suddenly I felt charged. So much so that I stumbled in my attempt to stand.

"One sec, I just need my wallet;" I said as I opened the door. Noticing it had fallen off to the side of the bed, I picked it up and grabbed a few bills to tip. I turned around only to find myself rooted to the spot.

"Edward?"

"Bella."

A/N I know, right?