Chapter 22

Songs:

"We Are," Hollywood Undead
"Make You Feel My Love," a cover by Adele

"Oh, Edward." My mother's voice pierces the silence that has settled over the room. Her hands move to her parted lips, and even through the screen, I can see tears swimming in her eyes.

"Hey, Mom," I rasp, holding Zoe a little closer to me. "Dad."

"How are you?"

The sincerity in my mom's voice makes my eyes sting, but I blink it away. "We're good. Tired but good."

"I remember those days." Her expression is wistful. "Let me see her ... please."

Slowly, I lower myself next to Esme on the sofa, careful not to jostle the sleeping baby in my arms. I angle my torso just enough so they can get a decent look at Zoe, even leaning in a little to show her off.

"She's ... she's perfect." She turns to my father. "Isn't she perfect, Ed?"

All eyes are on me, but mine are trained on my father's hard expression. It's only been a few years since I've laid eyes on him, but he looks like he's aged well beyond that. The deep frown lines around his mouth and grey streaks in his hair make him look like he's closer to sixty than fifty. But the anger I remember from our last encounter is still there, smoldering behind his eyes.

"Are you proud of yourself?" he asks, his voice gruffer than I remember.

My brows draw together. "What?"

Mom places her hand on my father's arm. "Ed, you promised."

He shakes her off and leans into the camera, waving his hand in my direction. "Look at him, Liz. What kind of person does that to himself? And then to go and get some random girl pregnant ... and marry her? How stupid can you possibly be?"

Before I can tell him to shove his misguided opinions up his ass, Bella walks into the room, her attention on her plate as she walks up beside me. "I got us a piece of pecan and a piece of"—she looks up and in an instant looks like a deer in headlights—"oh."

I know the moment my father's eyes fall on my wife. In a very Edward Masen Sr. move, his jaw clenches and his eyes narrow as he spits his venom in my direction. "I'll ask again. Are you proud of yourself? You gave up the chance of making something of your life. You traded in a respectable future so you could disfigure yourself and knock up a goddamn teenager."

For a brief moment, it's so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The cold stare I give my father is reflected back at me, and it hits me how similar we are. It's my stubbornness that caused me to leave Chicago as much as it was his that drove me away.

"I've never been more proud of my choices than I am today," I finally say, my voice not much more than a growl. "Everything I've done since I left home has been what I wanted to do. And all of those choices led me to Bella. I don't regret a single goddamn thing."

His eyes are focused intently on his screen, but I have no way of knowing if he's looking at my wife, the baby, or his inked and pierced disappointment of a son. A painful moment passes before he clears his throat and stands, muttering an "Excuse me" as he leaves the room.

Esme deflates beside me. "Edward, I—"

"It's okay," I say, feeling anything but. All the feelings I've kept bottled up the last few years come rushing to the forefront. Every angry shouted word, every insult my father hurled at me when I told them I was withdrawing from school echoes in my ears.

The warm, peaceful sensation I feel whenever Bella's near gets stronger as she sits beside me, her hand rubbing slow, even circles over my back.

"Are you okay?" she whispers.

"I will be."

"Edward," my mother finally says, "he—"

I shake my head. "Don't make excuses for him, Mom."

"But he—"

"No, stop. I can guarantee none of us are surprised by the turn that took. I'm surprised he sat there as long as he did." I look between my mother and my aunt. I'm angry, but I'm not sure where the blame for this mess lies. "Whose idea was this, anyway? Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to spring that shit on me?"

"Edward," my mother quietly admonishes.

"Stop. I'm not a kid anymore." I close my eyes and try to get a hold on my swinging emotions. One second I feel like screaming, the next I feel like crying; there's no middle ground. I'm all over the place. The only things grounding me are my wife beside me and my daughter in my arms. "Whose idea was it?" I ask again.

My mother clears her throat. "Mine. I asked Es to call us once your dinner was over and everyone had settled in. I didn't think—"

"No, you didn't think," I say, opening my eyes and glancing at my guilty-looking aunt. "A little warning would have been nice."

"I wanted to see the baby," Mom says, her voice contrite. "Every time I've asked the last two weeks you have some excuse not to show her to me."

"Because I wasn't ready, Mom. I ..." I groan and toss my head back. "I wasn't ready."

Bella curls into my side, wrapping an arm around my waist as she rests her head on my shoulder.

"And I wanted to finally lay eyes on my daughter-in-law," Mom says softly. "It's nice to finally put a face with the name, Bella."

"You too," Bella says.

Mom gives her a sad smile. "I'm sorry it couldn't have been under more pleasant circumstances."

Bella laces her fingers through mine. "Me too."

"I just ... I want so badly for us to put the past behind us. I'm so sorry for the way we left things."

"So am I, Mom, but if he doesn't want to, then it's never going to happen."

She sighs. "I know." Her sad smile returns. "But I can't stop trying."

Esme sits forward, reaching for her abandoned wine glass. "My brother is a goddamned idiot if you ask me. How you put up with his stubborn ass, Liz, I'll never know," she says, bringing the glass to her lips.

"Speaking of stubborn," Mom begins, looking like she's terrified of my reaction to what she's about to tell me. "I hope you won't fight me on what I've done."

Dread creeps up my spine and I scowl at the screen. "What did you do?"

"I want to see you, hug you, my daughter-in-law. I'd like to hold my granddaughter."

I raise a brow. "And ..."

She takes a quick deep breath, like she's preparing to do battle. "I want us to spend Christmas together."

"No." I shake my head so fast and hard, Zoe starts to stir in my arms. "There's absolutely no way I'm coming back to Chicago."

"No, not Chicago," she's quick to say. "I thought we could meet in Seattle. You should spend the holiday with the whole family." Her voice lowers. "Zoe's first Christmas should be special. Like yours used to be, with all of us together."

Bella's hand tightens on mine, and I know we'll be having a discussion about this later.

"As nice as that sounds, there's no way we can afford for the three of us to fly to Seattle. Especially when it's only a month away."

"Then I'm glad I already bought the tickets," Esme says from beside me, taking another sip of wine. "Merry Christmas."

I run the barbell in my tongue along the edge of my teeth, trying my best not to lash out and ask these women who the fuck they think they are, making decisions for me and my family.

My racing heart and heating skin must be enough to alert Zoe to her Daddy's flaring temper, because she starts to fuss. But in an effort to keep things civil, I swallow down the anger I'm feeling.

"As lovely as that sounds," I grit out, "I'll need to discuss it with my wife." Zoe's soft cries get louder, more insistent, and for once, I couldn't be happier she's giving me an out. "Now, if you'll excuse me, my daughter needs something."

I'm off the sofa and walking toward our room as fast as my feet can carry me, Bella right behind me. When we're in the safety and solitude of our room, I pace, Zoe held to my shoulder.

"Who the hell does he think he is? Telling me I gave up a better life," I mutter. "And my mother! How can she defend him? And then she goes and makes plans for Christmas for us. Who the fuck does that?"

The more I think about it, the more upset I get. I have the urge to walk back into the living room and tell my mother and aunt to take their plane tickets and shove them up their ass, but I'm sure that wouldn't go over well.

Bella steps into my path, bringing me to a halt as she holds out her hands for the baby. "Can I have her please? You're upset and she's sensing that. And I think she might want to eat again. It's been more than an hour since she nursed."

"Sorry." I kiss Zoe's head before handing her off to her mother, my hands trembling. I didn't even realize I was shaking.

The two of them settle into the rocker into the corner, and once Zoe is situated, Bella eyes me warily. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I bark out a humorless laugh as I grip my hair. "No." Without another word, I spin around and stomp toward the bathroom—the only place I can get a minute of privacy to myself.

Closing the door behind me, I press my back to it, my head thumping against the wood and my eyes closing. I take several breaths, doing every fucking thing I can think of to calm down, but nothing works. Even splashing cold water on my face does nothing to cool my rage.

Standing at the sink, water dripping from my chin and my fingers gripping the edge of the vanity, I stare at myself in the mirror. Minus the metal and almost thirty years, it's like looking into the face of my father.

"You're throwing your life away."

"You'll never amount to anything."

"No son of mine will disgrace my family like that. I won't support you throwing away your future. If you drop out of school, we're done. Consider yourself cut off."

"I can't even look at you."

Every screamed word and insult from that day come back to me in a rush, and angry tears threaten to choke me. I'm not sure if his unchanged attitude is what's pissing me off, or if I'm angry with myself that he still has that much power over me.

At a time in my life when I could use my parents' love and guidance most, I know I don't have it. I'm painfully aware they're not there for me—for my family—and as much as I've brushed it off the last few years, said it didn't bother me, it slices through me, leaving a fresh wound.

I press the heels of my hands against my burning eyes before reaching into the shower, turning on the water. As steam begins to fill the room, I strip out of my clothes and step under the scalding spray, the cascading water drowning out the sounds I'm fighting to keep inside.

But the warm water doesn't calm me like I hope it will. Instead, the heat, the rising steam makes my anger feel hotter somehow, my pain sharper. Every emotion I'm feeling suddenly feels suffocating. I grit my teeth and slam my clenched fist against the tiled wall.

"Son of a bitch!" I press my forehead to the cool tiles, squeezing my eyes closed. As my father's words continue to echo in my ears, my breaths start to come too fast. My whole body vibrates with rage against the man who's supposed to love me unconditionally. But then the air in the room changes.

A familiar electricity pulses around me, and before I can question it, the shower door rumbles as it's opened behind me. My heart pounds violently against the cage of my ribs moments before Bella's hand warms my back, her fingertips trailing along my side. My breathing stops altogether as she slowly slides her arms around my waist and pulls me closer, pressing her body against my back.

There's a moment when we're both still, neither of us breathing, neither of us making a sound, and it feels like the world stops turning.

Finally, she speaks over the sounds of the rushing water. "It's okay, Edward. Let it out."

And like a bursting dam, I do.

Years of pent up emotions, anger and disappointment I've kept at bay for so long, rush out, escaping in heaving sobs. My shoulders shake as I cry and Bella holds me tighter, her cheek against my back reminding me I'm not alone anymore.

The need to hold onto her is overwhelming, and I turn in her arms, wrapping mine around her and pressing my face into the crook of her neck. She runs her fingers through my hair as the water washes away the tears that race down my cheeks, my hold on her tightening.

"I've got you," she murmurs against my neck.

I want to know why I was never good enough, why my choices made him hate me so much, but I know she doesn't have the answers. All I can do is hold on and pray she doesn't let me go.

Eventually, the last tear falls and my breaths slow, leaving me holding my wife as the water falls around us. Our breathing is matched, and no words are spoken. The heat surrounding us burns differently now, our position more intimate than we've been before, and the significance of the moment isn't lost on me. Even when I've touched her before, I've been mostly dressed. But now we're standing here, both of us completely bare ... in more ways than one. I'm showing her a side of myself I've never shown anyone, and she's trusting me, standing naked in my arms.

I've never felt so vulnerable in my life.

"He's wrong," she says softly, her voice rising over the splash and spatter of the water.

"About what?" I rasp.

She pulls back and looks into my eyes. "You're a good man, Edward."

My gaze falls to her lips, hers leaving me feeling a little too exposed. "He doesn't seem to think so."

"I don't care what he thinks. And neither should you. He doesn't even know you anymore. How could he? No, you don't have a degree to hang on the wall or the bank account to go with it. So what?" She pulls one of her hands from my back and splays it out over my chest, her fingertips brushing over my newest ink. "But you have something not many people have. You've got a beautiful heart, and no amount of money can buy that. No education can make you a better person. That comes from inside. From your soul. You opened your life to Zoe and me and have shown me how amazing life can be ... what love and family is all about. I love the man you are today, not the man your father wanted you to be."

A storm of chaotic emotions rolls through me, and it matches the storm of emotions swirling in her eyes. Mine dart between hers and her lips, silently asking. When she tilts her chin up, offering, it's all the permission I need.

It's soft at first, shared breaths passing between us as her warm lips press against mine. But when her hold on me tightens and she slides her tongue into my mouth, it's not so soft anymore. Her hardened nipples press into my chest, and as a breathy moan escapes her, an urgency rushes through me. All my emotions bubble to the surface, and my entire body feels like a live wire. Instinct takes over, my body reacting to hers, and I can't help but press my cock against the softness of her stomach.

As my lips move down the column of her throat, somewhere in my clouded thoughts, a voice is screaming at me to slow the fuck down, that we're not ready for this. And as hard as it is, I put the brakes on, my kisses to her skin slowing to soft, languid pecks to her shoulder.

"Sorry," I murmur against her skin, my voice rough.

She laughs, a quick, breathy sound escaping her. "Me too."

I pull back, looking at her through the droplets of water clinging to my lashes. "What do you have to be sorry for?"

She pushes my hair back, swiping the water from my face. "For barging in on you. For getting you ... wound up. I just felt like I needed to be there for you ... like you always are for me. I didn't really think about what would happen next."

I pull her closer and press one more kiss to her lips. "I'm glad you did. Thank you," I whisper.

Wrapped in each other's arms, we stand there until the water starts to run cold before finally getting out and drying off. Bella pushes me out of the bathroom while she dresses, sending me to check on Zoe. She's sleeping soundly in her bed, completely oblivious to the turmoil around her. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

When Bella finally comes out of the bathroom, she's dressed in her pajamas.

"Is it too early to go to bed?"

I shake my head. "There are no bedtime rules when you have a newborn. Sleep when they sleep, right?"

She smiles and climbs into our unmade bed, and I'm right behind her. Sure, I could sleep, but I'm more interested in skipping out on the confrontation I know will happen if I go back out there.

"Are you feeling better?" she asks as she curls into my arms.

"I'm not sure yet. I feel ... I don't know. Off balance?"

"Are you ready to talk about it?"

I breathe a humorless laugh. "Which part?"

"Whichever part you want to. How about we start with the easy part. Are we going to Seattle for Christmas?"

"Do you want to go?"

"I'm not sure." She traces over the lines on my chest, deep in thought. "I didn't think I'd ever willingly go back to Washington."

"We don't have to go. I can go out there right now and tell them to piss off and that we'll spend Christmas here."

"No," she says softly, resolutely. "I think I'd like to spend the time with your family."

"Even my mother?"

She lifts her head from her pillow, resting her forearm on my chest as she holds herself up. "Especially your mother. I think this is her way of reaching out. It's kind of neutral ground for you both. I think she would have come here for a visit already if she thought you'd be okay with it."

I squirm under the intensity of her stare. "But she never even asked to come."

"What would you have said if she had?"

I groan, knowing where she's going with this. "I probably would have made every excuse in the book that it wasn't a good time."

"See?" She curls into me again, wrapping her arms more tightly around me. "She's your mother. She probably knows you better than you know yourself. I think it's why she suggested it. She knows you'd never have agreed to her coming here, and it's the next best solution."

A sigh escapes me. "Yeah, you're probably right."

If anything, the last couple of months I've spent talking to my mother have shown me she's making an effort to make things right. My father on the other hand—

"Do you think my father will come?" I whisper into the dark.

She's silent, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she finally says, "I hope so." Pulling back, she looks up at me. "I want him to see how happy we are, the family you've made for yourself. I want him to see for himself the amazing man you are. And I think it's important for you to have the chance to prove him wrong."

I avoid walking into the kitchen until nearly eleven the next morning, and only then because Bella and I are hungry. I'm deciding which pie is more nutritionally sound as a breakfast option when my aunt walks into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Edward."

"Morning," I mumble, reaching for a plate.

"I want to apologize for last night."

I'm focused on the pie in front of me, merely humming in response. I'm not sure I'm mentally clear enough to give voice to what I'm thinking without sounding like a total prick.

"It was wrong of me to spring that on you without any warning. I should have asked you, regardless of what Liz asked me to do."

"That would have been nice." My tone is gruff, and my words are sharp.

"After you left, Liz said she'd stay home if it meant you would come to Seattle. She wants you to spend the holiday with your family, even if she's not there."

My shoulders fall and I splay my hands out on the counter. "Don't. Now you're making me feel like the ass, Esme."

"I'm not trying to. It's the truth. She told me last night if it meant you'd come for Christmas, she'd stay away." She walks up beside me and lays her head on my arm. "She's trying, Edward," she says softly. "We all know she screwed up. She never should have sided with Ed when he kicked you out. She knows that now. And as a mother, I can sympathize with her. She made a mistake and she's trying her best to fix it now."

I rest my head on top of hers. "I know she is."

She looks up at me, her eyes filled with hope. "Does that mean you're coming for Christmas?"

I scan the shelves, and for a second, I question the life choices that have led me here. The aisle is ... a lot. The dozens of brands, multipacks, value packs, and the kaleidoscope of colors is almost dizzying. I pull out my phone and shoot off a text.

What kind did you need again? - E

I don't really "need" them, but I want to make sure I have them if I do. But they're the liner ones. They're in a pink package. I sent you a picture. - B

I scroll up ... and up and finally find it twenty texts back.

I hold up the picture against the shelves until I spot what I think is the right thing and snatch the box off the shelf.

Got it. - E

I hit send get the hell out of that aisle. Unfortunately, my path leads me right past the giant wall of family planning items. For a split second I contemplate grabbing a box of condoms—for later, of course—but before I can reach a decision, my phone buzzes again.

Oh, and can you pick up some disposable nursing pads? I don't want to deal with washing the cloth ones while we're at your aunt and uncle's.

We leave in three days for Seattle. It'll be the first trip we take as not only a couple, but also as a family. Bella is almost as freaked out as I am. Zoe is six weeks old, and she's only now really getting on a schedule. The cluster feedings are behind us for now, and the worst we've had to deal with was a case of diaper rash last week.

By the time I grab the rest of the shit on the list, along with yet another pack of diapers, I've got almost a full cart. And as I walk toward the register, I pass the store's little cart of floral arrangements. They aren't much, most of them daisies and nothing like the fancy shit my dad used to send to my mother when he fucked up, but they're pretty ... just like my wife.

"These are for me?" Bella asks, wide-eyed as she inspects the bunch of daisies.

I chuckle as I pull the diapers from the bag. "Who else would they be for?"

"But ... why?"

I shrug as I toss the travel pack of wipes on the bed. "Just because. I thought they were pretty." I shoot her a smirk. "They reminded me of you."

The force with which I'm thrown to the bed is surprising. It feels more like a tsunami than a hundred something pound woman. I'm actually kind of surprised at the amount of power Bella's tiny body can exert. I'm pinned to the mattress, her legs straddling mine, and the diapers, wipes, and nursing pads are forgotten as she looms over me. Her hair falls around us like a curtain, and in the tiny bubble she's created, she's the only thing I see.

Her cheeks flush as her bright eyes search mine. Rapid, heavy breaths make her chest expand, and her eyes darken just a shade.

Her tongue peeks out, making a slow, hypnotizing trail along her lips. "You're ..."

The kiss she lays on me is enough to get me rock hard before I can even get my hands on her. One hand grips the back of her neck while the other splays out over the small of her back. She's lying on me, but I'm wrapped around her. When she tentatively rolls her hips, instinct takes over and I grasp them, pressing up into her. I'm not the least bit prepared for what she does next.

The heat of her as she grinds down on my denim-clad dick makes me push up into her even harder. And her whimpers as she works her body over mine only spur me on.

I tighten my grip on her hips, my fingertips tracing along her panty lines through her thin yoga pants. I suppress the urge to rip the damn things from her body, and instead let her take the lead. And, my god, does she lead.

Her pace picks up, her hips rocking over mine as she breathes little moans into my mouth. Her hands move to my shoulders and she presses down, lifting her torso while the rest of her body presses harder against mine. A familiar coil begins to tighten inside me as we climb together, our fast breathing matched.

I know where this is going; I'm going to come in my pants like a fucking teenager ... and the anticipation of it is killing me.

We move faster, each of us holding tightly to the other, until finally, Bella tosses her head back and the sexiest fucking sound pours out of her. Watching her come never gets old, but this time feels different. This time when her chin tilts forward and her eyes meet mine, I'm right there with her.

The coil inside me snaps, and my entire body tingles and tightens from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. Wave after convulsive wave of the most fuck awesome sensation washes over me, and Bella's gaze never leaves mine.

In that brief moment when our eyes are locked, as we're riding out the last tendrils of pleasure, I know there is nothing I want more than to feel her from the inside. And after today, we're one step closer.

A/N: A lot of you were holding out hope the Masens might have seen the error of their ways. Liz might have had a change of heart, but it's not looking like Ed Sr. is feeling that generous. Christmas in Seattle should be interesting. How are we feeling about the moment ExB shared in the shower? No, it's not the sex you're all waiting for, but I think it's a giant leap in the intimacy department. I'd love to hear your thoughts on it!

I fear I may have confused some of my readers with the guest appearance last chapter. For any of you who haven't read Clutch, the old biker from Arizona was one of my characters, Tank, making a cameo. His "buddy's old lady" would have been Clutch's Bella. *note to self: avoid crossovers in the future.* I apologize for any confusion.

And some of you pointed out they thought I was taking a break until today, 6/29. Apparently, I can't read a calendar. *facepalm*

The end of this is officially outlined, and I have hopes I'll be wrapping up the writing in the coming weeks. It's looking like it will be in the neighborhood of 32 chapters, including an epi … but I've been known to let my wordiness get the best of me. So … maybe 35? Hehe.

The best way to stay up to date with what I'm up to is to check out my FB group, Sunshine Fics. I share exclusive teasers and teaser pics for this story and others. I'm most active on FB, but I'm also on Twitter at CSunshine1220.

Be kind.
Stay safe.
Stay well.

Lots of love,
~Sunshine