Another update! I just wanted to say a big "thank you" to whoever is reading this! Your support and kind words make staying up to write at night totally worth it. Love you guys!

32

Like a Bell Through the Night

Dead air surrounded him. Since he returned from his lunch with his father, he had immersed himself in making his son smile. Charlie had played with him for hours on the train track rug Edward had come home with. Now, the baby was asleep—surrounded by stuffed animals as he laid on his back. Edward watched him in silence and mulled over whatever his father had told him. I sat on the couch with my legs propping up my sketchbook. He'll say something when he's ready, I reminded myself every time I wanted to reach for him. Maybe my touch wouldn't hurt anything. He usually wants it. Needs it. He was so quiet that it unsettled me. My stomach turned and my hand fell to my paper and smeared the graphite. I dropped my gaze to the sheet and found my interpretation of Edward's profile smeared. It created a smoky effect that seemed representative of the mood around him. The mistake seemed intentional.

I abandoned my sketchpad on the couch and moved to kneel at his side. At first, he didn't react to my presence, almost as if he didn't know I was there yet. I waited for his gaze, and when he finally gave it, I could feel the air being sucked out of the room. Without a word from him, I had my answer. His eyes were red-rimmed and drooping as if he had just been crying in his truck. No amount of time with Charlie had fixed things.

Without a word, I slipped my arm around his shoulders and let myself fall to the carpet beside him. Every inch of him was despondent. He had ventured into the unknown and had come back as a different person. There was a level of acceptance in his countenance but maybe that was just due to him no longer giving a fuck. The latter seemed more plausible.

"He had an affair," he said as he leaned his head against mine. He didn't want me to look at him and wanted to feel me instead. If only my presence could be enough to cure him. "I fucking knew it."

This wasn't his life anymore. Nothing about it looked familiar. He seemed like an outlander in his own skin. The way he pulled at his clothes and tugged at his hair made me believe that he would rather be anyone else. He loved me. He loved Charlie. But no matter what happened, he seemed incapable of extending that love to himself. Maybe it's because the world couldn't give him a second to adjust.

The television emitted the only sound in the room, which made it feel smaller and more claustrophobic as Edward tried to breathe. The sitcom moved to a commercial that displayed a family playing in a park. It talked about some prescription drug as the father lifted up his son and helped situate him on a slide. The picturesque family on TV seemed to mock Edward as he hung his head and listened to the sounds of simultaneous laughter. I rubbed his back and moved to grab the remote. He didn't need this shit right now. Maybe the silence would be better.

Before I could grab the remote to mute the television, he began to speak. My hand dropped and I became too distracted to mute the TV as it moved to another commercial displaying a family on vacation. "Fun isn't just nice to have—it's a necessity. It makes you a better person …" This commercial mocked the moment, too. It was crazy how sometimes the universe gave you exactly what you needed while other times, it gave you the exact opposite.

"I feel sort of fucking stupid for not knowing. I'm sure there were a billion signs I ignored. I was always too wrapped up in my own life. You know I used to think my mom was the biggest bitch and now, I feel horrible. She was probably like that because she had a husband who was fucking around on her."

"How long did it last?"

"Does it matter?" he asked as he watched his sleeping son. "He fucked around on my mom a few times before I was even born. He acted as if because it was such a long time ago it should be easy to forgive. It doesn't change anything, though. He looks so fucking different to me now. You should have seen how fucking flippant he was about the whole thing. Acting as if he's not in fucking love with this chick—like he hasn't been this whole goddamn time. He didn't say as much, but I could see it in his eyes when he talked about her. Esme … that's the bitch's name. Hearing it just makes me want to throw up.

"I grew up thinking my parents loved each other. I mean, I guess every kid fucking thinks that. You don't have a reason to think differently because that's how it should be. Everything was a huge fucking sham, though. One big fucking lie. I don't think he ever loved my mother. Not really. The way he was talking about that chick today … Bella, I swear to God, he's never talked about my mother like that. Not even once."

"I'm so sorry," I said, although, the words felt hollow and useless. Saying I'm sorry wasn't going to change what was going on. Everything was falling apart all over again for him, and all I could do was sit here and apologize for it.

"No wonder she was so fucking cold to me growing up," Edward said as he thought of his mother. "I've never been a fucking champion for her or any shit like that but—fuck—now I want to fight for her. Someone has to be in her corner. Even if she was never in mine."

Reality marred the truth he held in his heart. Once someone's image changed, there was no going back. Sometimes, it was impossible to look at someone the same way again. The sitcom came back on and the laugh track quickly became irritating. Edward shook me off and got up to turn off the TV. The backs of my eyes burned as I watched him. He held everything inside of himself—bottled it all up—but he couldn't hide from me. His pain was evident. The way he looked at the world had changed.

"That woman is the center of his fucking universe, and he's … God, he's fucking different. So fucking different now."

"He's still the man who loves you. He's still your dad."

I'm such a hypocrite.

"Maybe he loves me—"

"He loves you."

"—but I don't know who the fuck he is anymore. He's not the person I grew up with."

He moved to sit back down beside me. His gaze moved over the room, glossing over the furniture, as if he were trying to take everything in for the first time. It seemed that his apartment looked different to him. There were memories here that he didn't want to acknowledge.

"He helped me move in here—helped me get back on my feet." He stopped and shook his head, letting go of another bitter laugh. "How could someone seem so good one second while being total trash the next? Every second feels so fucking fake now. He made a choice not to tell me. All of our interactions feel like a lie."

He rocked back and forth, self-soothing, before he leaned against me and moved his lips along my collarbone. Whenever times were rough, he wanted one thing. I didn't know if this was the healthiest way of dealing with his issues, but it was better than spending the night in tears. Another kiss was pressed against my collarbone before he moved away and stared down at his son, who was still lost in his little dreamland.

"I'll get him to bed. Maybe after that, you can help me forget about all of this?"

My eyes were sad—filled with tears that I wouldn't let escape—but I forced a smile as I nodded. If this were the only role I could play, I would do it for him. Becoming lost in my body was better than becoming lost in a bottle.

I was naked on his bed when he found me. My hands glossed over my body as I peered up at the ceiling—gaze focused numbly on the paint patterns as I was hyperaware of his eyes roaming over me. There was a smugness about not giving him all the attention he desired. I listened as he closed the door and moved across the room. Faintly, there was the sound of clothing dropping, and then a zipper being yanked down so harshly that I wondered if it was now broken. A smile tugged on the corners of my mouth as I listened to his shoes being kicked off before his jeans dropped to the ground, too. I imagined he kicked them somewhere before venturing toward me.

My nipples puckered as he grew close. His energy made my body react, pushing me toward a precipice without having to lay a hand on me. The springs in the mattress creaked as he knelt onto the bed—it was cheap and loud when we fucked. Almost as loud as our combined moans. Something about the sound coming from a bargain-basement mattress was erotic to me. Maybe it was because it was something Edward probably picked out on his own, and everything he said or did made me feel intoxicated.

He ran his cock over my thigh, and I arched my back as the feel of his piercing was cold against my flushed skin. As a moan passed through my lips, he covered my mouth with his and suppressed the sound. He poured his pain into me … his heartbreak … everything that weighed on his mind and polluted his spirit. I slipped my tongue into his mouth and tried to find fragments of the man who had left this apartment early in the morning. Hours had passed since then and he seemed to be a new version of himself. He discovered the truth and shed his old skin in the process, giving me another body to grow used to.

Liquid hit my face and I didn't have to pull away to know they were tears. My lips continued to move against his—he could eat me alive if he wanted to. My head began to spin as I tried to breathe. His mouth continued to work against my lips, growing desperate before it dipped to my jawline. As he ran his tongue along my jaw, I was lightheaded enough to feel as if I were floating. My core throbbed for his touch but he kept his hands above my waist. He skimmed along the curves of my body as if he were playing an instrument before turning his attention to my nipples.

Edward pulled away and towered over me as his hand played with my tits. He worked my nipples between the pads of his fingers as his other hand traveled down my stomach, skimming over my navel before dipping down between my legs. His fingers teased me at first as they trailed over my folds without really touching me. I watched his tattoos stretch and morph along with the flex of the muscles in his forearm. Every bit of him seemed strained as he pressed one finger inside of me. I gasped, satisfied with the feel of him, which caused him to smirk as he added another finger.

It didn't take long for his body to become desperate. His cock was erect, hovering over my stomach as precum gathered at the opening and caused the tip to become glossy. He let go of my nipple to hold onto his cock, and as he watched me, he began to touch himself. I mewled as he matched the pace of his fingers and wondered how his mood could change so quickly. Maybe it hasn't really changed … maybe he's just as melancholy as he was before …

"I need to … fuck … I just need to forget about shit for a while."

With that, he pulled his fingers out of my pussy and lowered his mouth to mine. His lips were gentle, juxtaposing his feral body. I blossomed beneath him and spread my thighs for him. His eyes roamed over my body before he reached to the bedside table and pulled out a box of condoms. He grabbed one from the box and brought the foil packet up to rip between his teeth. I licked my lips as he sheathed his cock and lined himself up with my entrance.

In one harsh thrust, he was inside of me. As I cried out, his hand came down and covered my mouth—with his eyes, he urged me to stay quiet. He found his rhythm and took his hand away. It made its descent down my frame before grabbing the back of my thigh and bringing my left leg up to wrap around his hip. He did the same with my right leg as he continued to plow into me. My tits bounced with every movement of his hips, and I arched back off the mattress.

Edward let go of one of my hips and reached forward to play with my mouth instead. His thumb skimmed along my bottom lip before he slipped to fingers into my mouth. They still tasted lip my pussy, and I moaned against him as his became vivid and wild.

"I love you. I love you … so … fucking … much."

His words sounded harsh between the moans pouring from his lips. I found myself being pushed over the edge as I stared up at him. His hair was wild and shot in all directions as if he were the one being fucked into the mattress. His skin was covered in a sheen of sweat that made me want to lick all of the beautiful ink. I reached out and moved my fingers along his skin as my core began to pulse erratically. I bit down on his fingers as I came. His orgasm mixed with mine. All of his movements became completely untamed as he fell to pieces.

He pulled out and yanked the condom off, throwing it near the trashcan by the bed before collapsing beside me. After a few moments, he rolled toward me and pressed his lips against my shoulder. Our sweat mixed together as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him.

"You're the one thing I can rely on," Edward whispered into the darkness.

"Don't say that, Edward. There are so many people who love you. More than you probably realize."

A sardonic laugh escaped him. "I don't know about that … I don't know that many people, and the ones I do don't really feel that way. Outside of you and Charlie …" He shook his head and bent down to kiss my shoulder. "After I came back to Evergreen with the intention of sobering up as fast as I fucking could, I ditched all of my old friends. I don't even know where they are anymore … Even if they were here … Fuck, Bella. I never really said 'I love you' to anyone. Just the thought of opening up makes me cringe. I'm pretty sure you're the only one—outside of Charlie—to hear those words from me."

"I'd like to hear them again," I suggested, wanting to lighten the mood surrounding us.

"I love you, Bella Swan. With you, I don't need anyone else."

"Mom! Stop. You know I don't want to hear all the details. Spare me, please."

"I thought you wanted to know everything about love, sweetheart? I know, I know. God forbid you see your parents as actual people."

"It's not that … Some of the details are just, well, gross."

"They're not gross. They're cute, Isabella."

"Cute …"

"You're the one who came to me, you know? You're barely eleven and you're asking all about boys and love."

"I'm not that interested …"

"You just have a crush, then?"

"Mom!"

My eyes shot open at the memory of her. It was faint but nagging. Her image always caught me off guard. She found me in my dreams. It was a ghost that hovered over me every second. I didn't know if I found it helpful or hindering. She was still vivid in my mind as I turned to Edward and ran my hand along the naked skin of his forearm. He was still lost in his own dream as he muttered against his pillow. His lashes brushed against his hand as he laid face down in a position that hid his face from me. I didn't have to see it to appreciate how devastatingly beautiful he looked.

After that dream, I needed to breathe. As quietly as I could, I moved across the room and slid open the window. The wood cried as I shoved it open as if fresh air hadn't ventured into this room since the apartment complex was built. Edward stirred but didn't awaken. I knelt down and stuck my head out until my nose was mere centimeters away from the window screen. I breathed in the chilly air and tried to let go of the memories I knew would soon resurface.

Every time I thought of my mother, I thought of everything else. All of the dreary, violent, and horrible moments would conjure themselves in my mind until I spent the rest of the day completely Catatonic. Today, I couldn't be that person—Edward needed me too much. He was going to visit an old friend, Paul, and every time he spoke of him, he thought of Seth. Paul and Seth seemed intertwined, and in Edward's mind, nothing could separate them. In a way, that could be a blessing, but to Edward, however, it seemed more like a curse. He wanted to hold his brother close while erasing him entirely.

I inhaled the fresh air one last time before pulling my head back and turning my gaze to Edward again. The sun trickled through the blinds and created lines along his sleeping body. His face was turned toward me, and his eyelids continued to flutter as if he were in an active dream. With his face relaxed, he looked so incredibly beautiful. He was mellow with the entire world instead of fighting against it. I rose to my feet and crossed the room. His limbs were tangled with the sheets—white clashing with dark, intricate ink. He smelled like cologne and sweat from the night before. I bent down and pressed a kiss against his temple before pulling away to wake his son.

Charlie was sitting in his crib when I reached him and clapped his hands as I turned on the light. Like always, he was ready for the day and faced it with a toothy grin. He wiggled in my arms as I picked him up, eager to get down so he could play with the collection of stuffed animals he had in the corner of the room. I was quick to change him and put him in a new outfit before I let him play.

"Be nice to your daddy today. I think it's going to be stressful for him," I said as I watched him play. "What am I saying? You're always nice, aren't you, buddy?"

He looked up at me and smiled as if he had understood my words perfectly. I was always impressed with how he sensed his daddy's moods. Edward was so good at hiding his pain around Charlie, and still, the little guy felt everything. Every emotion seemed to be shared between them. Although Edward hadn't always been around, it felt as though he had been in Charlie's life since the day the baby was born.

"I'm going to change and head out."

I peered over my shoulder and found Edward hovering in the doorway. He leaned against the doorframe in his boxers and rubbed the scruff on his cheeks with a tired expression. When he saw Charlie, his eyes lit up for a moment, and he crossed the room just to kneel down and give his son a quick kiss. Edward's lips pressed against the boy's hair before he pulled away and smiled at me.

"You look so beautiful like this," he said as he brushed his knuckles along my makeup-free cheek.

"I look tired."

He laughed. "Well, you did just wake up." He leaned forward and kissed me, hovering over my lips for a moment before he pulled away. "I'll see you in a bit, then. I'll be thinking of you the whole time."

"Have fun today. Maybe you and Paul can—"

"We'll have fun," he said as if he were trying to convince himself. "It is what it is."

He rose to his feet and gave his son a little wave before walking out. His shoulders were heavy, and whether he wanted to admit it to himself or not, it was obvious that Paul was a big trigger for him. Everything about the man made him anxious.

The next few hours passed by in a flash. It was nearly two o'clock and I hadn't even thought to shower or run a brush through my hair. Charlie was being hilarious today, cracking me up as we made breakfast together and spent the afternoon watching movies. I almost felt guilty for smiling so hard as Edward trudged back into the apartment, appearing as if he had been gone for grueling years rather than just a few short hours. He came and crashed down on the couch next to us and eyed the TV for a moment.

"Another Disney movie, little man?" he asked as he reached out to poke his son's belly. "You've seen this one a hundred times, haven't you?"

Charlie laughed at his father's touch and reached for him. I passed him off into Edward's arms. Charlie giggled and squirmed in his father's embrace for a moment before resting his little head on his shoulder. I watched them for a moment as the silence grew heavy.

"How was it?"

He was quiet for a heartbeat, and then answered. "Fine."

The word fine was so much sweeter than the many alternatives: angry, sad, lost, disappointed, depressed, emotionless, afraid, nostalgic, melancholy, violent, confused … Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Everything could be crammed under the umbrella of fine. When my mother died, I had been fine. When I had been raped, I had been fine. When I had clawed my way into some sort of normalcy, I had been fine, too. Fine sounded a lot better than admitting to feeling alone, scared, and utterly worthless.

Edward was fine. I was fine. We were all fine. Until we weren't.

"I think I'm going to go lie down for a while," Edward said as he handed Charlie back to me and stood up. "I just have this annoying headache. If I'm still sleeping by dinnertime, wake me up, okay?"

I nodded, trying to mask my concern as he walked back to his bedroom. Charlie seemed bothered at first, but with my help, he quickly focused back on the Disney movie.

Within an hour, both of my guys were fast asleep. I continued to watch Disney, finding it to be the soothing sort of storyline I needed. The monsters in the movies were so easily defeated. They were dragons and evil stepmothers—all visible enemies. If only the enemies in life could be so obvious. Just as the credits for Sleeping Beauty began to roll, Edward reentered the room with wild hair and a disorientated expression.

"Can't sleep? It's only been an hour. Is your headache gone already?"

He shook his head as he trudged toward the couch. "I just had a dream and it woke me up."

He ran a hand through his hair as he took a careful seat beside me, not wanting to wake Charlie. His eyes were red-rimmed as if he had just been crying. All the color from his face had disappeared as he stared into the empty space in front of him.

"Just a dream?"

He stretched his neck from one side to the other, cracking it before he worked on his back. His muscles were stiff and his bones released loud pops as he contorted his body. When he was finished, he looked at me. His gaze was fleeting and it dropped to his folded hands before I could register his expression.

"It was about my dad."

"Was it a bad dream?"

"No … it was a good memory. So real that I was surprised when I woke up." A smile ghosted across his face before his expression turned weary. "When I was in preschool, I used to draw tons of pictures. My dad got me this box of crayons, and I became addicted to coloring. I mean, I had no talent but I tried my best. I drew a few pictures for my mom, but she never wanted them. They weren't 'her taste'—who the fuck says that to a kid? So, my dad would take them and tell me how proud he was of the work I did. It's fucking dumb. I don't know why I'm thinking about it now."

"He was a good dad … wasn't he?" I asked hesitantly, no longer knowing what his response would be to that question.

"He was great. I try to be that way with Charlie all the time. I've never been as good as he was, though. Not even fucking close. He could make anyone feel like they were worth something."

"You're a great dad, Edward. You never give yourself enough credit."

"I'm not. Really. Seth would have hit this shit out of the park. I'm barely getting by."

"You put all the energy you have into Charlie. I think you're sort of magnificent."

I bent forward and kissed his shoulder. If only he could see himself through my eyes—through Charlie's eyes—his perception would be so different.

"I think … No, I'm going to. I'm definitely going to. I have to fucking call him, Bella. Tomorrow … Tomorrow, I'll call him. He's got to know that I don't hate him."

"Can't you just leave me alone for a freaking second? You're always hovering. Do you think I'm going to like you more if you hover?"

"Isabella, I'm trying my best here, will you—"

"You don't have to pretend with me. I'm not a child anymore."

"You're fourteen."

"What's your point? Do you think I'm not old enough to be disappointed?"

"Disappointed?"

"Disappointed. In you. Who wouldn't be? You're totally different now."

I choked on the memory as my father's face flashed behind my eyes. That hollow, hopeless look still felt real today. Suddenly, I wanted to call my dad, too.

"I was so stupid. I … I never saw you as a person, I guess. I only ever saw you as my dad. You were supposed to be perfect …"

"I just need to hear his voice again. I can't let go of the only family I have left. I'm just worried …" Edward trailed off with a shake of his head. "What if he looks at me differently now? After all the shit I said to him. He deserved it, I think, but still, I was so fucking horrible."

"You're both human, Edward. You'll meet each other in the middle somehow."