29

Shine a Little Light

My excitement began to dilute as I considered the two people staring from their spot behind glass. I disappeared into Edward's car and quickly fixed the mascara clumped beneath my wet eyelashes. We were moments away from facing two people still dealing with their daughter's death. Months weren't enough time to repair that sort of damage, and I knew hearing Charlie call me mama in front of them would be detrimental. I exhaled and imagined my anxiety trickling from my lips and filling the car instead. Of course, this visualization barely worked, and I stepped out of the car with wobbly knees.

The couple was still staring as I stepped back onto the gravel driveway. This is what zoo animals must feel like, I theorized as I moved to stand beside Edward. I viewed them from where they stood in the window, finding their faces blank and unreadable. Edward stood stoically beside me, rocking Charlie in his arms as he took in the couple, too.

I didn't need to be a mind reader to understand his thoughts. "What if I fuck up in front of them?" "What if they see all of my flaws?" Words from me wouldn't change anything. Sometimes, he needed to spend time in his own head.

"Edward, you ready?"

He nodded before he peered down at Charlie like he was some sort of lifeline.

"Yep." He popped his p as if he were faking every bit of his enthusiasm.

When I peered down, his ankles were shaking. I wanted to say, "Edward, they're not going to take Charlie away from you. They can't do that," but I refrained, knowing bringing the idea up again wouldn't help any.

Slowly, putting one foot in front of the other, we walked toward the home. They ducked out of the window, a little embarrassed for being caught sizing us up. As our feet met the uneven, brick steps that led to the door, it swung open and caused us to nearly stumble back as we were met with lukewarm expressions. Their eyes moved between us before dropping down to Charlie—the only person they wanted to see.

It made sense. Of course, they wanted to see their grandson more than anything else. However, I expected a warmer reception than this. They barely acknowledged us outside of a quick, forced smile. I had pictured a bit of awkward small talk regarding the trip and forced pleasantries, but there was none of that. Their focus was entirely on the baby in Edward's inked arms.

I shouldn't be so judgmental—their daughter passed away. We all handle grief differently. Why go through all the awkward, forced conversations when you could skip it?

I tried to control my annoyance—even when I noticed the way they looked at Edward. Disgust filled their gazes, and they didn't bother to use their energy hiding it. It was splayed out in the open for everyone to see. Especially Edward. He noticed it and instantly dropped his gaze. My blood boiled for him. He was doing so much, and yet, it never felt like enough. He was always one step behind where he was supposed to be.

"There's my grandson," the woman, Mae, cooed as she reached for him. In response, Charlie stared at her blankly, cocking his head to the side in confusion as he peered up at her. "You don't remember me?" Her tone was sugary. "It's Nana, Charlie."

My perception of her didn't matter—I still wanted her to have a good relationship with Charlie. He deserved all the love in the world. The more people who loved and cared for him, the better. Her sweet tone worked, and Charlie reached out for her. Edward was perplexed for a moment, not used to seeing Charlie warm up so quickly, before he handed him over to his grandmother. She gave him Eskimo kisses instantly, and then held him safely against her chest. Charlie was a bit fussy at first but then warmed up to her. He stared at her inquisitively and eyed her features as if he were searching for them in the recesses of his mind. Whether he recognized her or not was uncertain, but he did begin to warm up to her as she gave him a barrage of animated expressions. He giggled at her before he noticed the man standing next to her. Lincoln peered down at his grandson with misty eyes before he reached out and allowed Charlie to grab his pinky finger. Despite the baby's attention, Lincoln's expression was tense—his eyes, which were nearly hidden behind folds of skin and wrinkles, were distant. Had his expression always been so emotionless or had loss caused that?

I dropped my gaze, feeling like an intruder as they reacquainted themselves with their grandchild. Kate should have been the one standing here, not me. I was an outsider—a voyeur of a special moment. Inches between us felt like miles, and I wanted to fade away into the background, blending with the trees that were just beginning to lose their leaves.

"Come in," Lincoln said without bothering to introduce himself.

He turned and left us speechless. Mae followed her husband, carrying Charlie away without consulting us. I guess she is his grandmother … In the doorstep, Edward and I gathered our thoughts. Edward was just as baffled, peering over at me with wide eyes, which screamed, "What the hell is going on?" After a moment, he shook his head and stepped inside, following the sounds of voices.

"This isn't what I expected," I whispered as I followed after him.

"I didn't either."

I shut the front door and listened to the cooing sounds bouncing from down the hall.

"We'll make the most of it, I guess," Edward continued. "That's all we can do. We got Charlie to his grandparents. We did our part already. Now, we're just …" He trailed off as he searched for the right word.

"Decorations," I supplied with a

"I like that." He grinned. "Decorations."

We followed the sounds, searching for them as I tried to search for some empathy.

A half hour passed without a single acknowledgement. They haven't seen him in so long … it makes sense. I pressed my hands together against my thighs, sitting beside Edward, who remained stoic. He sat mutely, slumped forward with his elbows resting on his knees. His tattoos were on full display, and he didn't bother to roll down his sleeves, no longer caring what the couple thought.

Charlie, becoming bored, grew fussy in his grandmother's arms. His eyes darted around the room, and when they finally came across his daddy, they widened as his arms outstretched. Tears filled his eyes as his cheeks became kissed with blossoms of red. Edward rose from his seat just as his son started crying out for him. He stalked across the living room and was met with judgmental gazes and tense frames. The couple looked almost as if they were scared of Edward. I wasn't sure whether it was his ink or dark eyes or tense jaw—something about him made them shield Charlie.

The world felt heavy as I shifted in my seat, pulling at the ends of my sleeves with my fingers as I adverted my gaze. Mae seemed perturbed as the baby was taken away. Her emotions bled from her, but I couldn't find the space in my heart to give her the sympathy she probably deserved. People fell away so quickly, escaping back into the darkness they had emerged from. Disappearing … Everything around her had disappeared, and this baby—this one more thing—was something she couldn't control either. The things that surrounded her were all impossible to grasp on to. Her aged, shaky fingers couldn't hold on to what was left.

As Edward took Charlie away, the baby giggled at the contact, nuzzling his face against his father's neck. A warm smile tugged on Edward's lips, and he held his son close. His anxiety began to fizzle out of his pores as he finally held onto his lifeline. My gaze moved past them, finding Mae with pursed lips and an unimpressed gaze.

The sound of Lincoln's voice surprised me at first. He had been suppressed since we arrived, caring only for his blood. Nothing interested him if it wasn't Charlie. We were all just filler—something to merge with the backdrop of his home.

"How's it been supporting our grandson?"

His voice was deep and direct. With heavy shoulders, he leaned forward and rested his forearms against his knees. The posture was cramped and uncomfortable, making his words seem vapid and forced.

"It's …" Edward trailed off as he read the man's expression. After a moment, he peered down at his son and found his anchor again. "I'm doing everything I can." Charlie smiled at him—gummy and bright. "I'd do anything for him."

"Taking care of a baby—well, it isn't easy."

"He knows," I interjected. With teeth pressed against my bottom lip, I kept my mouth shut. Anything I said would be too much. Words came out like vomit when it came to defending him. All the times when phrases had been captured in my throat propelled me to act now. When every thought was stuck inside my head, there was no greater feeling of claustrophobia. All the words left unsaid had clawed at me for years, so now, even if Lincoln was looking at me in a way that would make anyone want to be swallowed up by the world, I couldn't find it in myself to care.

"So, you have a job then?" Mae spoke up.

I ground my teeth. Why the hell wouldn't he? After a long inhale, I closed my eyes for a moment and tried not to say anything sarcastic. These people lost their daughter … You would be concerned about everything, too.

"I work full-time."

"Doing what?"

"Working construction."

"And that pays the bills?"

"Obviously." The irritation flared up for a moment, overflowing, before Edward reined it back in. He masked it—stifled every emotion he had—as he quickly apologized. "Sorry. It pays the bills. I also have money from—"

"That's good," Lincoln said, cutting him off as the air in the room became heavy. The money Kate and Seth left behind wasn't money that was meant to be spoken of. Lincoln's gaze dropped to his grandson, and with eyes that burned, he changed the subject. "He sure does look good."

Charlie sucked on his thumb, eyeing the man who had complimented him with inquisitiveness.

"Thank you," Edward mumbled as he propped Charlie up in his arms.

There was a fleeting moment of hope—maybe they'll lighten up and spare us. Our bones ached from the hours spent cramped up on the road, and our minds were too numb with stress to function probably as the hope we felt fizzled out. Their expressions grew even more serious as they began to cross-examine him with tones that were, at worst, accusatory, and at best, completely monotone. Edward's patience astonished me—I could have never managed something like that.

The impressed feelings turned melancholy as I realized why he was handling this all so well. He was used to it. Used to the harsh words and critical treatment. The lack of warmth was something that had surrounded him for far longer than I could probably wrap my mind around. Every bit of this was routine for him, and I wanted to scream. The dull ache he probably felt was amplified in my belly—I felt every ounce of anger for him. Everything he had suppressed stabbed through my belly.

Every answer he gave made the couple increasingly skeptical. One thing was clear—they didn't trust him. Inked, pierced, and scarred, he couldn't be a good father. The truth was all skin deep, and the layers underneath didn't matter. One look was all they needed to know about him. Despite all of this, Edward was cordial.

"My bad for not getting in touch with you sooner."

"I understand." Lincoln's voice softened. "You've been busy. Lots of changes for you."

"Yeah." Edward stared down at his boots as he shifted back and forth in his seat. "Look, I'm so sorry about Katherine. I couldn't begin to imagine …"

His words were a jumbled mess that poured out of him and infected the room like a virus. Within a few seconds, everything felt contaminated. The strain in the air was palpable, and it pressed against me, agitating my skin as I stared at the couple across from us. Instead of tears or rage, they sat with dead eyes and vacant expressions. The color from their features had drained, which gave their skin a gray tint. Mae bit down on her bottom lip so aggressively I was waiting to catch a glimpse of blood. Lincoln toyed with his hands, wringing his stiff fingers together as he blinked away the tears threatening to spill over.

One tear did escape though—trailing down his leather-textured skin and dipping into the crevasses of wrinkles. He chewed on his tongue, as if he were chewing on tobacco, and reached up to wipe away the wetness. Mae was quiet beside him, reining in her emotions as she stared at the floor. Somehow, despite it all, I felt the backs of my own eyes burn, too. I wanted to cry for them as they tried not to cry for themselves. Charlie beat me to it. His eyes filled with tears, which quickly overflowed as he looked at the dejected couple across from him. Edward rocked him in his arms as he cried for his grandparents.

It felt like sitting with the dead. The air was dead—the people seemed to be fading away to mix with the ones that already had evaporated. Just like those maudlin nights in my room spent sprawled on my bed with a stolen bottle of Dad's liquor. With leaky eyes and a swollen nose, my mind was flooded with everything that we had lost. It was a collective loss—each one of us had our own pain; our own burden to carry. Time would pass and the agony would turn into a dull ache. Something that gnawed at you and threatened to eat you whole. Years had passed since my mother's death, and I still felt it gnashing at my skin. For Edward, everything was fresh, causing his features to become lurid and agonized. Even when I reached for him, I could never really reach him. Sometimes, I feared the grief would spirit him away. I feared it would do the same to every one of us.

Despite the similarities of our circumstance, unity was nonexistent. One common factor couldn't bring a group together. Everything between us was fragmented and mismatched. Charlie was the link, but the pieces were impossible to fit.

"Thank you, Edward," Lincoln said finally, breaking the spell of grief. "We're sorry for you, too. Seth was …" Another tear escaped, and he quickly wiped it away. "Hell, he was our son." With his arm around his wife, he added, "We both loved him dearly."

Then, his gaze dropped to Charlie—eyes filled with the realization that this was all that was left. Charlie was the present and future, and everything else was left out of our reach. There was only Charlie and memories, and only one of those things was tangible.

"Chase me! I'm not tired yet!"

"Bella, we've been running around all morning. Give Mommy a break."

"Chase! Chase! Come on!"

"Let's rest for a moment."

"Hold my hand?"

"Of course, I'll hold your hand."

"Forever?"

"I don't think you'll want me holding it forever. You'll get older … One day, you'll probably be embarrassed by me. You won't want me to hold it anymore."

"Never, Mommy."

Rain pelted down, tapping against the windshield as it mixed with the soft sounds flowing through the speakers. My body relaxed against the passenger seat as my mind danced along with the noise. The soft rain had turned heavy. After everything that had happened, I needed the shield the downpour created. Edward was silent beside me with this gaze laser-focused on the road ahead. He searched for answers in the beams his headlights created, looking at the illuminated road ahead as if it were going to give him some sort of sign.

It was pouring as we reached our hotel. Edward parked close and threw me a tired smile before he opened the door and hurried to get Charlie. The baby smiled as he was lifted from his car seat, smiling against the sensation of the rain against the fabric of his clothes and his flushed cheeks. Curious, he reached his hand out and felt the rain against his little palm.

They captivated me for a moment as I hovered near the car. Then, I took off, moving toward the hotel as the rain splashed against my skin. With soaked clothes, I remembered the many times I had danced in the rain with my mother. She had always been concerned—worried I would catch a cold. My insistence had always won her over. She couldn't deny a chance to make me smile. With arms outstretched, I imitated her, dancing to a tune in my head against the sound of cars zooming around the roads bordering the lot. I skipped through puddles and angled my face toward the clouds, smiling against the wetness that kissed my face. A giggle passed through my lips before I darted inside with clothes wet and molded to my frame.

Exhilaration charged me, coursing through my body as I felt nothing but joy. After the painful reminders experienced today, every moment seemed crucial. Life was temporary and demanded to be explored. Exploring the world felt just as daunting as exploring myself—both promised an interesting adventure.

The hotel lobby was empty, and I stood there creating a puddle near the baggage carts. The clerk looked up from her computer as she listened to my shuddering breath, and the automatic doors slid open behind me. The energy shifted as Edward entered the lobby with Charlie. I peered over my shoulder at him, and his eyes danced over my body before they met my gaze.

"That's a good look on you."

I smirked, allowing him to take my hand as he pulled me toward the front desk. After checking in and grabbing our bags, his mood shifted. He sobered as we reached our room and instantly collapsed onto the mattress. With Charlie on his chest, Edward stared up at the ceiling as if he were trying to memorize the textures of white paint. As I watched him, I wondered how many unfamiliar ceilings he had seen in his lifetime. Did his years on the road blur together in one drug-induced haze? Were small details still in his mind?

"You did great today." My voice filled the quiet room. "You were so patient."

He shrugged and dismissively waved his hand as a bitter laugh escaped him. "I'm real fucking used to it." He realized his tone and backpedaled. "Thanks for saying that though. I just wish that was something out of the ordinary for me. I get that shit all the time."

The right words didn't come. Instead of speaking, knowing words would do little, I closed the distance between us and pressed a kiss against his wet, flushed forehead. His eyes closed and fluttered back open as I pulled away. With a promise of quickly returning in my gaze, I left him to strip out of my wet clothes and wipe off the foundation that was now dripping into my cleavage. I yanked out my overnight bed and wiped off the face I wore for other people. I had spent extra time on my makeup this morning, knowing I would want to make a good impression, but it served no purpose. The couple had barely spared me a glance. Frustrated, I tossed the makeup wipe into the trashcan and rubbed my pale skin that was now reddening with irritation. I can't think about this now. Edward needs me too much. I quickly brushed my teeth as I tried to ignore the dull pain in my heart. It threatened to turn into something major.

When I finally made it back into the main room, Edward was sitting up and staring at the air in front of him. It seemed like he was waiting for something, or someone, to appear. With a tense, sharp jawline and rigid muscles, his entire body twitched against the mattress as he tried to contain whatever it was that was threatening to burst. A few heartbeats passed without a word falling from my lips—he had barely noticed me yet, too wrapped up in his own reality. He was miles away—galaxies even. I reached forward and rested my hand on his thigh before my fingers tapped against the muscle. He leaned back, somewhat soothed.

"What is it?"

He didn't look at me—didn't spare a glance. Instead, he rested his head against my shoulder and choked out a shaky exhale. His body was vibrating, and I resisted wrapping my arms around him. I wasn't sure whether he would find comfort in the touch or would feel demeaned—emasculated by needing someone. After a moment, his head rolled off my shoulder and found the tops of my breasts. He nuzzled them before resting there.

Every time you hold onto me, you feel different. Why do you always feel new, Edward?

The quietness felt heavy against my shoulders. With his head pressed against my chest, he let go of the breath he was holding and only pulled back to catch a glimpse of the little boy sleeping on his lap. He sat up straight then and ran his fingers over Charlie's, counting each digit as if he had just come out of the womb.

"He's so beautiful," Edward breathed—his voice shaky. "Looks just like him."

My eyes felt heavy in their sockets as the tears came. My arms wrapped around him, and in this moment, I felt his soul tether to mine. We came together in pain and merged with love. I pressed my face into his hair and hid my tears as I already knew his next words. Sometimes, I felt like I could read his mind. Every bit of him seemed to pour into me.

"Weeks before my brother died—" He stopped and shook his head, causing mine to slip off. I pulled back and wiped my tears, hiding them from him as he sat up straight. "Weeks before he died, he called me, asking me to stay with Kate and him."

I wrapped my arms around him as he pressed the side of his head against mine. He was hiding his face from me. It didn't matter though—I could feel his pain. I closed my eyes and bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from whimpering.

"After seeing them today …" He trailed off as he pulled away again and shifted in his seat, feeling uncomfortable in his skin. "Fuck, I'm grateful. I feel grateful every second because I got to say goodbye. Fucking grateful that I could tell him how I felt—even if my words were rushed. It's just … God, it's just so fucked. At the time, I had no idea. No idea that was going to be it. The last phone call. The last conversation. The last time I got to hear his voice." A melancholy smile grew. "No one knows that shit, I guess. That phone call, all he talked about was Charlie. He wanted me to meet him. Said I would love the kid. Isn't that just … I don't know … Isn't it just fucking ironic or something? When I met Charlie, it was after he was gone. After there was nothing left …"

"Edward—" He cut me off as quickly as I had begun.

"Everything is fucking fragile—so fleeting. I feel like I'm trapped in an hourglass or some shit, choking on sand—wondering when the final grain will fall. It sounds pathetic, but all I feel is anxiety. So much has happened, and I'm just waiting for another punch."

"Anxiety isn't pathetic."

"I feel pathetic. I know I'm being fucking morbid, but it's all I ever think about. What if I'm gone tomorrow and I never got to be real with certain people? I just want to—no, I need to tell people what I'm thinking. How I feel. I don't want to leave anyone wondering—"

"You're not going to die, Edward," I interrupted as I pressed my forehead against his. "You're going to live and have a long and happy—"

"I love you."

With that, all the clutter in my head went silent. My heart raced against my breastbone as his hand reached forward, allowing our fingers to intertwine. All I could do was stare at him. I loved him with every ounce of me. His joy was mine; his pain was mine, too. Together, nothing mattered. Our names. Our backgrounds. Everything between us became mixed until I no longer felt barriers. We were each other.

"Everything I feels runs so fucking deep," he continued without a breath. "It's more than I could possibly express. Words … I can't find the right words. Maybe there aren't any. I don't think there's a word to describe how I feel for you." He dropped his head as his cheeks blossomed pink. "Sorry, it's just been weighing on me for a while now. If I'm gone tomorrow, I just want you to know. I loved you when you were my best friend. I love you as my girlfriend … I know I'll love you every single day … all the rest of them."

He had stumbled through his words, making them all the more endearing. His breath tickled my lips as he leaned forward and dropped his gaze to my mouth. We stayed like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other, before he pressed his lips to mine. His kiss was short, leaving me wanting.

"I just wanted you to know," he explained again before pressing his lips to mine once more.

When he pulled away again, he hovered expectantly. The words were ready in my throat, and somehow, I felt nervous. Love was so exposing, and it asked for more than I thought I could give. Still, I found the strength to crawl out of the box I had placed myself in. I had been living the life I thought I deserved, accepting everything as if there weren't a choice. With a few words, I could change everything. These three words would become a promise to myself—I was capable of love, and I was worth loving.

"I love you."

"You don't even know …" He stopped talking, riddled with disbelief. "You don't even know how it feels to hear you say that."

"I think I know," I teased. "You just told me you loved me."

"No, it's not that." His eyes rose to meet mine as a doleful smile tugged at his lips. "I can't remember the last time someone said they loved me. Seth said it—that's all I can remember. No one outside my family … not even friends … I never knew the words were something to be missed. Expressing things … being open … it all seemed like bullshit to me. Now …" He paused again, and now his smile seemed happy and authentic. "Now, I think I'm addicted to hearing it."

"I'll tell you all the time then. I'll constantly remind you of how much I love you until you grow sick of it."

"I'll never grow sick of it. I can't believe I even deserve—" He stopped himself with a shake of his head. "Sorry for being so negative all the time."

"Don't insult my tastes by telling me you don't deserve it. I love you, and that's it. It doesn't matter what you think. My feelings are mine alone."

"I like it when you're bossy." He smirked. "I love it actually."

"Good! Get used to it." When the laughter between us faded, I rested my head on his shoulder and peered down at the baby sleeping on his lap. "Edward, you deserve all the love in the world—sincerely. It breaks my heart that you don't think that. If you could only see yourself the way I do …"

"I'm working on it." He sighed and wrapped his arm around me, pulling me back to rest against his chest. "It might take a lifetime to love myself."

"Maybe, but I'll help you every day." I angled my face to catch a glimpse of his. Edward with softened features was a sight to see. "You have to promise to help me, too."

"I promise. We'll figure it out together."