AN: thanks to my amazing beta Monica and my lovely team of pre-readers May, Ciara, Heather, Marie, Maria and Jo. Love you all for holding my hand the last few weeks. You're appreciated more than you know 😘
If you're not reading Jo and Marie's (aka Belladonna and the TheFictionFreak) prohibition era fic, Clean Sneak, then you really need to. Think Peaky Blinders, but set in New York. Cullen and Kitten are dynamite 🔥
Couple of points people are missing or forgetting (especially for the ew, dead cousin's ex crowd!):
- Alice and Jasper weren't boyfriend or girlfriend, they hooked up casually over summer
- Edward and Jasper aren't blood related- Edward is adopted, and maybe saw Jasper 2/3 times a year from the age of 9. They were close but not super close.
- it's been over 10 months since the accident and about 8 months since Bella cut Edward off completely. 8 months at the age of 21/22 is a long time. I don't know whether it's a generational thing but my friends at that age moved on from serious relationships within a few weeks sometimes. And, yes, that included going out with friends of said exes too!
Lots of you disappointed with Edward. Understandable. He's not made good decisions, but such is life. No one is perfect. Why Alice? Why not someone else? More on that next week...
If you're still here, thank you 😘 happy weekend and stay safe!
Chapter 24
Lips on mine; hot and demanding. Hands skimming up and down my sides, tentative at first but slowly getting bolder until my top is coming off, peeled up and over my head.
It's a warm evening, but suddenly I'm freezing.
"Wait!" I pant. "Wait."
Ben pauses, eyebrows shooting up in concern, blue eyes darting across my face.
"This okay?"
I sit up as I hurriedly pull my top back on, fishing my hair out of the back of it, breathing hard.
"Sorry..." I search for words, but I can't find any that explain the churning in my gut or the feeling that this isn't... right. Somehow.
"You're not a virgin are you?"
"What? No! No. I'm not a virgin," I laugh, looking over at him. "I just haven't... since the accident."
"Hey—I'm not—it's not, like, a problem. You set the pace."
And that is the problem. I don't know whether I want to. I should want to. I should. But there's lots of stuff I'm worried about. Stupid stuff like… what if instead of having an orgasm I have a seizure? Or what if he's put off by my scars? And then there's wrapping my head around giving my body to someone again, when it's not been my own since the accident. There's a dissociation there that I'm not sure I can shake.
My racing heart starts to slow, my attention returning briefly to the movie we're watching just in time for Ron Burgundy to proclaim he's 'in a glass case of emotion.' And that pretty much sums me up. Trapped by thoughts and feelings, and heaps of confliction over something that should be straightforward.
"Thanks for understanding," I tell him with a sigh.
His arm comes around me. "It's not a problem," he repeats as we settle back on his bed.
Ben drops me home close to midnight, pulling up into the drive next to dad's cruiser so I don't have to walk far.
"So, I'll call you?" he says at the door, hope in his eyes and a small smile on his face.
"Yeah. Or I'll call you."
He slips hands around my waist, a chaste kiss on my lips: saying goodbye. He waits until I'm in the house before he leaves, the sound of his car fading down the street as I hang my bag up and take slow steps toward the living room, light spilling out into the hall.
Oz raises his head as I pause in the doorway, joints feeling sore, pain shooting up my leg from my ankle. Dad's sitting in the old leather recliner with his feet up on the coffee table and the sports news on, casting the room in light and dark as it flicks between clips.
"You didn't have to wait up," I tell him as I sit down heavily on the sofa.
"Who says I was waiting up for you? Can't a man catch up with the sports?" Dad smiles, but it doesn't betray the fact we both know he's up to make sure I arrive home in one piece. My parents have never been the helicopter type some people have, but that was before.
He admitted not so long ago that he'd talked to the officers that attended the accident. The scene of utter devastation they witnessed. An overworked truck driver falling asleep at the wheel of his eighteen wheeler... Jasper's beloved Rabbit crushed like a can. It's a miracle we didn't all die.
"Did you have a nice evening?"
I nod, but my expression must give me away.
"What's with the face?"
"I don't know… I don't know whether I'm in the right frame of mind for this," I wave my hand vaguely.
Dad's moustache twitches. "And by 'this', you mean dating?"
I groan, my next words mumbled. "It feels like… going through the motions. Doing what I'm supposed to be doing. I still don't feel like me. I don't think I'll ever feel like me again," I tilt my head toward the ceiling, blinking back tears.
I'm not really coming to terms with that.
Dad clears his throat. "This have something to do with Edward visiting the other week?"
My eyes dart to his and I'm not sure how he knows about that, unless he caught Edward here... but if he did, no one said anything to me about it.
"Your mom made him coffee," Dad says, by way of explanation. "Had a chat."
"She did?" I reply dumbly.
My mind fills with questions. Why didn't he wake me? He talked to Mom and left? What did they even talk about? Why didn't Mom not mention it?
It's not as if I've replayed his visit over and over in my head, but I have. A million times. What he said. What he didn't say. What I should have told him.
I pick at a thread on my sweater.
"He's a decent kid," Dad says, thoughtfully. "Flew in straight from LA with your brother and Vanessa. Was at the hospital every day, sat at your side. Slept in those God awful chairs. Your mom had to force him to go home and sleep most of the time." He stops, looking at me. "It's not my place, I know I'm only your old man and my opinion don't hold much weight, but I can understand why you didn't want to see him, at least to begin with. The amnesia… you didn't know who he was. Me and your Mom didn't expect it to be permanent though, with the way you two carried on last summer."
My eyes feel hot, more tears welling up. It's hard to hear it sometimes: how other people viewed us.
"Is that the wrong thing to say?" Dad looks worried.
I shake my head, wiping away a tear. "No. It's fine."
He gets up, leaning down to give me a kiss on the top of my head.
"Early shift for me tomorrow, so I'm off to bed. You'll figure it out, kiddo. If he didn't care he wouldn't have showed up. Try and get some sleep. Take one of those tablets if you need to. Oh, and by the way, your brother called; wanted to ask you something. Might be worth chatting on that sky thing tomorrow."
"It's Skype," I correct, with a weak smile. "Night, Dad."
He leaves me in the dim glow of the living room until I eventually move myself into my bedroom. Oz follows dutifully as I collapse on my bed, mind spinning.
I can't sleep. I can't switch off. So I load up my laptop, and I do something I haven't done since the accident. I hit the forgotten password button on MySpace, and I log in.
Fielding my way through private messages, wall messages, friend requests, and picture comments takes hours. Some are asking how I am, others are offering condolences for Jasper's death. Some people I know, some I don't. The silence of the night presses around me until I can hear the sound of birds and there's faint strains of light seeping through the edges of my blinds.
I find Jasper's profile and spend time flicking through his pictures. His last login date dated the day before the crash. My hand finds my chest, running over my heart as it aches. We all look so young—innocent, untainted.
And it's not fair.
It's just not fucking fair.
My eyes prickle angrily, and as I wipe them as they dip to his top 8; the little orange and green icon lit up underneath Edward's profile picture.
I wonder why he's awake at this time too.
I hesitate, before I click on his profile, afraid of what I'll find. There's not much to my relief. He doesn't look like he's updated it in a while. I'm not in his top 8 anymore, and that kind of hurts more than I thought. It makes sense though; I don't blame him. None of this was him; it was all me.
I chew my lip before hitting the message button. I'm not even sure what to say. Staring at the subject line, my hand hovers over the keyboard.
Hi I type.
How was Europe?
The cursor blinks mockingly at me. And then I backspace it all.
…
"Is this thing even working?"
I can see every pore in Vanessa's face as she fiddles with her laptop, the mic crackling, her forehead so close to the camera it makes me have to stifle a laugh.
"Can you hear me?"
She leans back with Kaitlin in her arms, smiling.
"I think we're good," I tell Vanessa. "God, she's got so big. And chunky."
"I know," Vanessa smiles wide, brushing a stray hair off her face. "Like a miniature sumo. It's all the boob milk, I swear."
I watch as my niece stuffs a teether into her mouth.
She's savage. The way her pudgy fists squeeze it tight as her mouth wraps around it, head shaking slightly like a puppy with a chew toy.
"Earth to Bella," Vanessa says, waving a hand in front of the camera, getting my attention.
"Sorry, what did you say?"
"I asked how you are."
"Oh. Okay." The answer's automatic—rehearsed, something I've said a million times.
She looks at me knowingly. "And now the truth."
"Confused. Tired. Kind of… bored?"
"Bored's new."
I hum. "Guess I don't feel like I'm doing anything with myself. Like, up until this point it's been appointment after appointment, trying to get better: focusing on recovery and now I'm sort of getting there… I hope, anyway—does that even make sense? Like, I want something else to do, focus on, but the thought of planning ahead is hard too. Doing things is hard. I'm anxious about all of that."
"Makes sense. It's great you feel like you're getting better though, enough to even start considering those things… How's Ben?"
I wrinkle my nose. "Okay… I don't know. He's nice."
Vanessa pulls a face. "Nice? Bella—"
Garrett appears behind Vanessa, interrupting us by swooping in and kissing her temple. He lowers his head further, mouth finding Kaitlin's chubby cheek. He munches on it and she squeals, eyes going big.
"Did you ask her?" Garrett says. "Hey, Bella."
"Ask me what?"
"I haven't asked her yet, I haven't had chance," she says, pushing him away. Garrett bites into a slice of toast, smothered with peanut butter.
"Go on then, ask her."
"Nice to see you too, Garrett. Ask me what?" My eyes flit between them.
"Well, it's funny you said that you were bored because we were actually wondering whether you want to come out here for a few weeks and stay with us."
The suggestion catches me off guard.
"Really?"
Vanessa smiles.
"We'd love to have you. Figure the break might do you good. Change of scene."
"But… What about my appointments? PT?"
"I already checked with Mom, you're clear the week after next week for two weeks, and anything Austin wants you to do you can do with Vanessa at the studio," Garrett chips in. "Fuck knows you pay that place enough."
My tongue runs along the back of my teeth, a habit I've still kept despite my tongue piercing healing up ages ago.
"And would I have to fly myself or..." Worry worms its way in, images of seizing on the plane or in the airport on my own, having to walk far… I don't think I can do it on my own.
"We'll come get you. Spend a few days up with you, Mom, and Dad…"
I'm already smiling. "Okay," I agree. "Getting away actually sounds really good."
"Yay!" Vanessa cheers bouncing Kaitlin on her knee. "Auntie Bella's coming to stay."
...
Dipping my feet into warm water, I slowly circle them, easing stiffness that seems to have set in this week. The swimming pool is quiet: only me and the sound of the pool filter whirring.
My eyes find the scar on my right leg, the one on my ankle, the jagged red line down my stomach. I have others too. Chest drain scar on my ribs, one on my arm. Physical evidence of the accident. To say I'm not self-conscious of them is probably an understatement, but Austin wanted to incorporate some hydrotherapy sessions into our program so I'm being brave.
It's only him, and I'm sure he's seen worse, anyway.
The door swings open at the end of the pool room, but I don't look up.
"Boo," he says, right in my ear.
"I did hear you," I respond dryly, finally bringing my eyes up to look at him.
He sits down next to me.
"I don't want to make a big deal, but you should probably wait until I'm here before going anywhere near the pool. If you have a seizure and fell in, you'd drown and I'd be in big fucking trouble."
My lip retreats in between my teeth. I feel like a little kid getting told off.
"Sorry."
I should know better really, because Mom has to babysit me in the shower and bath just in case, too. There's no such thing as privacy anymore, but I got used to that a long time ago.
"Don't apologize, it's all good. Just don't want to lose one of my favorite patients."
I look at him, eyes narrowed, as his lip curls.
"One of?" I challenge.
"You got me. My favorite patient." He holds his hands up in surrender. "Do you want to get in?"
"Sure."
Austin's in swim shorts and a short sleeve rash guard, making me feel underdressed in my bikini. Maybe I should have worn a one piece, but whatever… He holds my hand down the steps, and I'm pretty sure he's checking me out, his cheeks slightly red when he finally meets my eyes.
It seems Emmett was right after all.
"So… how's this going to go? What do we actually do in here?"
He coughs.
"The advantage of being in water is the buoyancy. So there's less stress on your joints, less chance of swelling and pain, but you still get the benefit of being able to do the exercises. A lot of patients find it relaxing too. Come over to the side."
I hold on to the edge of the pool as we slowly go through stretches. Austin quizzing me on how my everyday walking is going.
"It hurt this week," I say, resigned to the truth. "Been crunching down painkillers."
"So, you need to take it easier. You don't want to rush. I know it's hard, but it's really important to listen to what your body is telling you. Know your limits."
And that's the thing. I hate my limits and I tell him as much. I can barely walk to the end of the drive without feeling breathless.
"But look at how far you've come. When we first met, you couldn't write your name and were in the wheelchair waiting for your talus replacement. Now you're walking, you've pretty much got full motion in your right arm and hand. This is taking longer because of the complexity of the repair. A titanium talus is pretty special, you know."
"So I've been told. I know you're right," I admit. "I just get frustrated. Especially if I'm having a bad day."
"When are you having a good day?" he teases.
I splash water at him, looking over the pool.
"I didn't use to be like this. I used to be fun."
"Fun?"
"Yeah. Like, rarely at home, hanging with my friends all the time. I didn't have to do risk assessments every time I left the house. Just being able to go down to the river and drink, smoke. Gigs. Working. I miss it. I miss Jasper."
"Understandable," Austin says. "My football career pretty much ended when I broke my leg. It's why I became a physical therapist."
"It did?"
"Yeah, I remember that feeling of… frustration. Not being able to do something I loved was really, really hard. I was jealous, and it took me a long time to come to terms with the fact that my dreams would remain that. But here I am, making the best of it. And to be honest, this job is rewarding. You walking the other week. Your parents and Rose were proud of you, but I was mega proud too."
I smile.
"Really?"
"Yeah. I know it's easy to overlook with everything else but don't forget this is a journey. There'll come a time where you won't need to see me." He pauses. "How about your homework involves doing something that you used to do, or a place you used to go?"
I'm quiet, and then I nod. "Okay. I'm sure I can do that."
…
Rose and Heidi are waiting in the foyer after I finish up with Austin. Hair still damp, dressed in leggings and a tank, I'm not prepared for them to be here, waiting. I thought Mom was picking me up, but she seems to be forcing social interaction on me by suddenly having appointments or things she needs to do.
And I should want to hang out with my friends, but sometimes it only serves as a reminder of how different things are. There's a constant gaping hole where Jasper should be, and I can't help but keep circling back to it. Even though I know things would have changed anyway, after last summer.
"Hey. Um, what are you guys doing here?"
They exchange a look.
"We're taking you out. Food, then to our spot. I got some fresh weed. It's a good strain, gives a real mellow high."
"Oh," I begin, already coming up with excuses. "Thanks, but I'm really tired and—"
"An hour. Two? Please?" Heidi begs.
"Don't make us make you," Rose adds.
They look at me with almost identical pleading eyes.
"Okay," I agree, my voice small, resigned. An hour or two I can do.
Heidi sits in the back of Rose's car with me, the rumble of the engine steady and smooth, Paramore playing in the background. I'm staring out the window, fingernails curled tight into the palm of my hand.
"So, do you want to come?" Heidi asks, touching my shoulder.
"Hmm?" I say, turning to face her.
"To the gig next week? We can get seated tickets, I already checked," she says, and I think she really wants to call me out on me being deaf to everything she's just said.
"Oh. Sorry. Um, yeah. Okay? Who is it?"
Rose glances in her rearview mirror, meeting my eyes, red lips curved into a smile. "Fucking awesome. It's Funeral for a Friend. You're going to love them, I promise."
They take me to the local strip mall. We choose a bar and grill, deadly quiet even for mid-afternoon on a Friday.
"You should come say 'hi'. I know Mike misses you, even if he won't admit it," Rose says, as I pick at a few slices of the large pizza and curly fries we're sharing.
"Maybe."
"C'mon Bella, they'd love to see you."
I chew slowly on my pizza, suddenly feeling nauseated. Thinking of the store reminds me of Edward. It's where we met. It's where we'd sit outside on lunches and make out until my lips were swollen, where he'd buy his stupid chicken salad sandwiches every day just to talk to me.
Sometimes I don't want to think about what we lost.
...
Walking back to Rose's car at a snail's pace, the sound of boards on concrete echoes across the lot. My head twists, a few familiar faces skating on the concourse close by. Automatically, I search for Edward. I don't see him though.
There's Quil, Embry, and a few other faces that look familiar, but I can't place. I manage a wave before I can stop myself, a wide grin pulling on Embry's lips as he realizes it's me. He yells something at Quil and then they're skating over.
"There she is!" Embry says, kicking his board up into his hands and pulling me into a hug. "Sup, home girl? Been too long since I've seen your pretty face."
"Same old… did you just quote Three Doors Down at me?"
He laughs.
"Guess I did. Heard you're like bionic now, yeah? Like the freaking terminator." He drops his board, arms stiffening and then moving robotically. "I'll-be-back."
I probably shouldn't laugh, but I do.
"Uh, yeah. Not quite."
"Well, you're looking good for it from where I'm standing." He winks, my face feeling warm. My attention shifts to Rose and Heidi, hovering.
Unsure whether they know each other, I decide to introduce them.
"I think we've met," Heidi says, "Through Ned."
Quil frowns. "Ned? I don't know anyone called Ned."
"She means Edward," I interject, unthinkingly.
Embry and Quil look at each other and then back at me before they crack up, sniggering.
"Ah, man, wait until I see him. Gonna rip it. What the fuck kinda nickname is Ned…"
"Only Bella knows the origin of that," Rose joins in. "She hasn't told us. It's super secret, apparently."
"Go on, tell us," Embry urges. "We'll be kind, promise." He does a little cross over his heart and then some weird boy scout salute. I don't believe him even for a second, so I shake my head, smiling.
"He'd tell you if he wanted you to know."
"Yeah, right. Maybe I can blackmail it outta him. Hey! You should come to the screening I got next week. You remember me filming last year?"
"Yes?"
"Got my first film done. We got this grad showing at the community college, should be good fun."
"I don't know—"
"Ah-ah, I'm not taking no for an answer. Come and hang; it'll be fun. After party at my place."
"Sure," Rose says for me. "Sounds fun. We'll be there. When is it?"
"Next Saturday," Embry says, his face lit up. "7 pm sharp. And if you wanna hang out before, we're over the park near the high school most nights, they put floodlights in so we can skate 'til late."
…
Gray and windy weather has kept most people away from the sandy stretch of river bank, when usually it'd be teaming with people. Even the river is moody, flowing fast, deep and dark. Today, it's just us and one other family at the opposite end to where we're heading. Heidi and Rose walk with me slowly, and when I have to stop because my muscles are burning and my ankle hurts, Rose gives me a piggyback the rest of the way.
"Are you still not eating?" she says, as she lowers me to the ground. "You're ridiculously light."
"I'm eating," I reassure her. She doesn't look convinced. "You just saw me eat pizza and curly fries. I'm eating."
"Okay. But, seriously. Eat more."
I roll my eyes and she sticks her tongue out. Sitting in the sand next to me, she takes out a pre-rolled joint from the inside of her leather jacket.
"You do the honors," she says, offering it up to me.
"Uh…" I shake my head. "Go ahead. I'll cough up a lung… first time in ages."
She shrugs, sparking up, toking until the cherry is burning bright before offering it up to me. I take it daintily, a couple of tentative puffs that leave me fuzzy headed a lot quicker than I remember.
Tension in my shoulders slowly slips away as we watch a boat chug up the river, the niggling pain in my ankle getting less the more I smoke.
"Do you ever think where we'd be if what happened didn't happen?" I ask, finding my voice. "What we'd be doing on this exact day if everything was how it was supposed to be?"
"All the time," Rose says. She rests her head on my shoulder. "I think we all do. You guys would be home for the summer—"
"You'd still be carrying on with Emmett," Heidi says. "Rather than owning up to your actual, in the closet feelings for me."
Rose smiles. "I told you, it was a mistake. I would still be at the store with Mike, that wouldn't have changed. Bella would be living it up in Chicago, you'd still be with…" she stops herself abruptly, but I can fill in the gap.
I'd still be with Edward.
I run my hand through sand, gazing along the river. What should be happy memories, forever tainted with sadness and 'what-ifs'.
"Maybe you should talk to him," Heidi says gently. "Don't think he's not hurting either. I mean, he's not with Alice for anything other than punishment, surely."
Rose barks a laugh; but I don't really want to think about him and Alice at all. They make me feel sick. Of all the people… I understand this choice of his the least.
"Thanks for taking me out today," I say, after a minute. "Still being my friends."
"Of course we're still your friends," Rose scoffs. "I don't get matching tattoos with just anyone."
"I feel like you've said that before," I tell her.
Her face splits into a smile. "I did. The night before the accident."
I think really hard, but that's all I have. There's no context to it. Just her voice saying it.
"Maybe it's coming back slowly," Heidi says.
"I kinda hope it doesn't," I confess. "I don't want to remember anything about the crash."
"Some of us don't have a choice." Rose's voice catches as she inhales smoke sharply.
My hand reaches for hers.
"I'm sorry."
"Me too," she whispers.
...
When I finally collapse into bed at midnight, I'm exhausted. It might have been a few hours but mentally and physically I'm spent. And there's a lingering thought I can't let go of, that I've been thinking ever since Edward showed up at my window.
I miss him.
In some way, knowing he was in Seattle was better. Confining myself to the house was better… it kind of… muted things for a while. Feelings. I had enough going on, anyway. Worrying if I'd lose my foot, worrying if I would ever walk again. But now? Seeing him again…
I reach for my cell, scrolling to Edward's number, typing out two letters, finger hovering over the send button.
I close my eyes and hit send.
Hi