A/N: I don't own this, we all know who does. If I did, Rpattz would be rubbing my head and lulling me back to sleep. My head's killing me, I'm going back to bed. :D
This is unbeta'd, so any and all mistakes belong to me. It's early, head hurts, not focused. Ehhhhh.
This is for my wifey, Mrs. Robward. She gets headaches like I do. Usually at the same time. Freaky...
Thanks to Luxure & EdwardsBloodType for prereading this. So good...oh yeah. :) And mnp968...you know, you rock. :)
**disclaimer **
This story is a bit taboo. So a lot of you wondered what happened to Bella's parents. Well, wonder no more! :D
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… Chapter Fifty Eight - A Word … Edward …
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I don't like the way he talks to you. I never did. But now that you're mine, I really hate it.
It was all I could do to not hit him, not tell him exactly what I think of him and how he treated you. He should know, someone should tell him.
The only reason I didn't was because I could see it was important to you. And your kids were there, watching. It wasn't my place, not in front of them.
And I want to give you everything you want. Everything you need. And you needed to stand up to him. He needed to know that he can't control you anymore. He needed to see what he missed out on, what he let go, what he threw away.
What is mine now.
We pick up Claire and go back to the hotel. You're quiet and I know you're thinking, you need time to process everything that happened. You saw them, you finally saw Kim and Alex, and now you know for sure that they want you.
I take Claire with me to the restaurant next door, order some food for dinner. While we wait, I call my dad. Ask if he knows any good attorneys, can refer us to someone.
After I fill him in on what happened, he worries, wonders if it's what's best for us. I know he only means well, but you need this. And if you need it, then I need it. We need it.
He understands. He's gonna ask around, see what he can find out. Maybe we'll use some of that "child support" money for an attorney, as well as for a house.
We eat dinner, the only one talking is Claire. I think she knows something isn't right, but you smile when she smiles, laugh when she laughs. You aren't your usual happy self to her, but close enough. She goes to bed without any struggle.
We sit up, talk. You want to see your parents on the way home tomorrow. I'm okay with that. We may as well get all the heavy stuff out of the way now, the weekend's already been shot all to hell.
I take Claire for an early morning swim, trying to tire her out for the ride home. She thinks it's just so that we can enjoy the pool one more time. It's also to give you some time alone. I can see in your eyes, you're almost there. Almost back to normal. Almost ready for what's coming.
As we drive in the neighborhood where they live, the address you found for them, I start to get nervous. I'm sure you feel the same way.
Soon, the numbers on the paper in your hand match then numbers on the front of a green house. There's a small fishing boat in the side yard. You laugh, telling me it must be the right place. Your dad always loved to fish. The flowers along the front walk are the work of your mother, you say. They remind me of the flowers you always planted when you lived in his house, so long ago.
I hope you plant flowers at our house.
You ask me to wait in the car, that you haven't seen them in almost 25 years. You don't know what they'll say, if they'll know you. You're afraid, I can tell, but like yesterday I know.
You need this.
Claire is asleep in the back seat. My wearing out strategy worked. For now, anyway. The car windows are rolled down. I want to hear what happens, if you need me.
The street is quiet, lots of nicer homes, but no one out this early on a Sunday morning. It's not too early, not early enough for breakfast, but not late enough for lunch. I watch you knock, wait for the door to open. When it does, I see her. I see you see her, and her see you.
Her face is a mask of shock, her hand shaking over her mouth as she says your name, questioning if it's really you. She hugs you, and I hear her cry as your arms wrap around her.
She's missed you. She's looked for you. She's so sorry, she never meant it. She was so ashamed, what she did, she didn't know what to do. Can you please forgive her?
It's reminiscent of the conversation you just had with Leah. I know you know it, too.
Before long a man with dark hair enters the door way. His mustache is thick, his eyes hard. I hear him say your name, but there's no emotion there. Your hand gestures toward the door, as if you're asking to go inside. I watch him pull the door closed behind him, saying loudly that you can say whatever it is you need to say outside. You're not welcome.
Your mother cries, pulls away from you a little. I feel sad for her, and for you. Mostly I feel sad for your father, for what he's missing out on.
I hear you talking to them, telling them how sorry you are, that they were wrong to kick you out, that you hated them for a long time. You tell them that you miss them, want them back. That you're happy now and you want them near, involved again.
Your mother looks hopeful, happy. Your father...I can't tell. He's stern, hard. Not giving a bit to your words.
When you tell your mother about the wedding, that you'd like them to be there, for us and for Claire, I see your father tense. "Who's Claire?" he demands. You point to the car, to me and her, saying my name and hers. The look on your mother's face, I know she wants to see Claire, maybe even me. But your father, he's resistant, cold.
After several minutes of talking, you come back to the car, they go inside. Your mother sad and crying again.
"Let's go," you say, your voice soft and barely holding in your sobs.
"What did he say?"
"He said no, they won't come. He said I never learn my lessons. That he can't be okay with my life, not then and not now."
Tears slide down your cheeks, and I've had it.
I'm done.
I'm out of the car before you can stop me, knocking, almost pounding on the front door. When he answers, he's startled to see me. I stand a few inches taller than him, and I straighten up, using every centimeter to my advantage.
"Mr. Swan, my name is Edward Cullen. Would you mind terribly if I had a word with you?"
"If this is about Bella and that farce of a wedding she mentioned, then you can-"
"Mr. Swan, I mean no disrespect, sir. I'd just like to say one thing and then I'll leave you alone. The woman in that car, your daughter. I love her. I love her more than I've ever loved anyone in my life. More than I ever will love anyone in my life. And our daughter, she's an angel, not even joking. She's the most perfect thing ever to grace the earth, and you're missing out on that. On them. Sir, I've asked Bella to marry me, and I know you don't think much of it, but casting that opinion aside, I'd like your blessing."
His eyes widen at my words. Clearly he's shocked that I'm doing this. I'm shocked, too. But then I see you in the car, crying and not even able to look at this house. You're worth it, and I'm doing it for you.
"I'd like your blessing on our marriage. I know it means nothing to you, but it means everything to that woman over there," I say, pointing to you, "and because of that, I'm begging for it. Please, will you please give us your blessing?"
He stares at me blankly, his eyes blinking a few times before he finally huffs and lets out a long, deep breath.
"Yes, fine. I give you my blessing."
A small smile plays on my lips. Just one more thing to do, and then we can go home, back to our lives. Back to me and you. Back to our family.
"Sir, thank you for that. I can't leave without asking you one more thing. I know, like I said, that this means nothing to you, but please, if you ever loved her, in your whole life, if you ever truly cared for your daughter, please come to the wedding. It won't be big, just us and my parents and a few friends, maybe some of your grandchildren. Bella needs you there. She needs your support. She needs your love. She's lived without it for most of her life, and you can see what that did to her. Don't let it continue. She's a good person, she's amazing. She just wants to be happy, and I want her to be happy. Please consider it."
He nods his head, looking at you. Your face is in your hands, your shoulders shaking, and I can hear your cries clear from here. Claire is awake, out of her seatbelt and leaning forward, trying to comfort you.
"Is that Claire?" your father asks.
"Yes, that's her."
He's quiet for a moment, pondering. "My mother's name was Claire."
We stand silently, still.
"Thank you, Mr. Swan. I appreciate you hearing me out."
I turn to walk back to you, to leave him to his day, to your mother who is crying inside the house somewhere.
"I'll think about it," he says, stopping me, making me turn around.
"Thank you. You won't be sorry."
With Claire back in her seat,, we're off, headed home. So much done over the past few days. Progress toward healing our lives, fixing the wrongs from our past, creating hope for our future.
With your hand held tightly in mine, I smile.
No matter what else happens, I have you, and I have Claire, and I have our new baby.
I don't ever need anything else to exist or be happy. And I know that.
Your wide brown eyes gaze at me.
"You're so wonderful," you whisper, tears filling your eyes again.
"If I am, it's only because you make me that way." I kiss the back of your hand, winking at you.
There's the smile I love most, your lips turning up at my words, my gesture.
Our daughter chatters happily to herself in the back seat, oblivious to the perfect moment we're having.
Which is kind of perfect, all in itself.
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A/N: It's not perfect, I doubt it ever will be, but it's better. :)
So, you heard of kitkat681? You read her stories? She wanted to trade me last night, this chapter early for an outtake from her story From My Window. I failed, so instead, I'm gonna write her any outtake she wants. Anything. Like, if she wants some threesome action between Bella, Edward, and Tanya in the club...done. Or if she wants Edward and Bella's first "date" way back when...okay. Or if she wants Edward and Bella at home with their grandchildren someday in the future...ahhhhh, and totally cool. Even if she wants some crazy fantasy that Edward has of him being with Bella and Leah at the same time...uh...oh geez, okay. I'll need to bleach my brain afterward, but I'll do it. Or maybe she wants to hear about one of the times after Leah when Edward tried to date other women, and maybe when he had sex with this lovely, sweet girl named Kate...I could write that. :D
Two more chapters and an epi. The epi's already killing me.
Reviews are better than perfect moment's where he's kissing your hand and winking at you and smiling that certain smile that's just for you.
Leave one.