A/N: Thanks so much for continuing to read and review, guys. I appreciate it so much. Unfortunately, I've been a fail with responding to reviews again. I swear, I'll keep trying, but there haven't been enough hours in the day lately.
Anyway, meet me at the end, okay?
Betad by my good friend and provider of encouragement when mean people get me down: Michelle Renker Rhodes. :)
Most characters belong to S. Meyer
I wanna hid the truth
I wanna shelter you
But with the beast inside
There's nowhere we can hide… Demons by Imagine Dragons
Chapter 11 – Trying to Understand You
BPOV
For the next week or so, the new arrangement with Mel works out pretty seamlessly.
Mel comes to class, and then once her class is done, I leave her a few odds and ends to take care of for me around the studio while Angie, Jake, Jess and I teach the last few classes. By the end of the week, she's got a pretty good handle on what she can do around the place to help.
And now once all classes are done, instead of hanging around the studio waiting for either a late uncle or a late fuck buddy, we head straight to my place.
Back at home, Mel and I eat dinner, she finishes up her homework and then we practice ballet or just dance anything we're in the mood for. Or we just watch TV and hang out.
She hasn't broken down the way she did the other night, but she seems less…angry at the world lately. Sometimes she does tend to get quiet all of a sudden: when a song comes on the radio, or when a show on TV triggers memories of what I can only imagine she's lost. And when that happens, I give her space to feel what she needs to feel, and then I ask her if there's anything she wants to talk about.
"Not right now," is her standard response.
And though I wish she'd open up, I know only too well how difficult it can be to talk about things you'd rather not think of.
So I'll give her the time and space she needs and hope that "not right now" eventually turns to "this is what hurts." And then maybe, I can help take away some of that hurt.
OOOOOOOOO
Edward looks exhausted when he picks up Mel on Wednesday, and I can tell he's had a bad day. His face and arms are absolutely streaked in grime, and as I follow him into the middle of my loft, I've got this wayward image of me taking him into the bathroom, removing his shirt and his pants…stripping him down to his underwear, and then using an immaculately white towel to clean off his face, his arms, his shoulders before watching him step into the steamy, glass shower…
But my daydream doesn't last very long. He's in one of his moods, so he barely speaks, turns down dinner again, and then swiftly ushers out Mel, only quickly meeting my gaze before mumbling a hurried "thanks" and walking out.
OOOOOOOOOO
On Friday, Mel and I are upstairs in the storage loft trying out old costumes from the last couple of recitals when my phone rings.
"I'll be right back!" I yell out. As I run down the spiral staircase, the feathers from my head piece flop into my face while the sequins around my flapper-girl skirt slap against my legs.
I check the Caller ID quickly before answering.
"Hey, Dad."
"Hey, Hon. What's going on?"
"Not much. And you?"
"Same old, same old. I figured I'd call you or else the year would end before I spoke to you."
I grimace. "Dad…sorry, I've just been really busy."
"You just said there's not much going on. So which is it? Not much going on, or have you been really busy?"
I sigh. "You missed your calling, Dad. You should've been a lawyer."
He chuckles. "Nah, never been much suits. Hard hats and tools have always been more my thing."
I laugh, but my mind suddenly goes to Edward, wondering what exactly he looks like in a hard hat...
We make small talk for a short while. He tells me he's been busy as well. The site he's been working on has had a couple of snags, and they almost had a major setback this week, but it worked out in the end.
"So what have you been doing, Bells?"
"Well, I had an audition a couple of weeks ago…"
"Yeah? How did it go?"
My silence is his answer.
He sighs "You'll get there, Bells."
"Yeah. I just found out about another audition for this production here in Brooklyn…anyway, can I call you back, Dad? I'm in the middle of something."
"What are you in the middle of that's more important than speaking to your Dad?"
"I'm watching a friend's…kid."
"Don't tell me Angie's gone and had a kid?"
"Dad, you saw her like a month ago. Did she look pregnant to you?"
"I don't know about these things," he mutters. "Alright, so, come see your old man soon, okay? I'm not working too far away. We can have a quick lunch together."
"I'll see, Dad…"
"Call me during the week, okay? I miss my sweet, little girl."
"Alright, Dad," I agree quietly. "I'll call you."
After we hang up, I stare off into space while the phone remains clutched in my hand, wondering what Charlie would do if he ever knew the truth about his sweet, little girl…the truth about why I don't want to go see him at work…
"Miss Bella?"
I blink out of my stupor and turn around to see Mel behind me, dressed like a very glittery cat.
"You okay?" she asks.
"Yeah," I grin. "It's just that my Dad's really good at making me feel guilty sometimes."
She just stares at me. "My dad never made me feel guilty about anything. Mom used to say he was the mellowest guy to have ever been born."
It's the first time she's ever voluntarily mentioned her parents.
"He sounds like he was a great guy."
Mel simply nods; the glitter that's rubbed off of her costume makes her face sparkle and glow.
"He was a great Dad."
I approach her warily, as if she really is a little kitten that'll jump at the first sign of provocation. Like Edward did the other night in the kitchen.
"And your mom?" I ask softly, adjusting the kitten-ears headband around her head. "What was she like?"
She doesn't answer right away. Her eyes move beyond me, seeing something that's no longer there, and just as I think I've gotten all I'm going to get tonight, she says,
"My mom was beautiful, just as pretty as you are. She was shorter though. She smiled all the time. And she told these silly jokes that would make my dad roll his eyes because they were never funny, but then he'd laugh at them anyway and I never understood why. She had long, dark hair like you."
"And like you," I smile.
She only manages a faint twitch of the lips. "I have her eyes too, but I think hers were prettier. I'm not sure. It's getting…hard for me to remember…"
"You can look at pictures," I remind her gently.
She looks down at the floor. "I'm going to change this costume. It's stupid."
And she runs back up the stairs.
OOOOOOOOOO
By the time Edward arrives that night, Mel's momentarily bad mood has disappeared.
Thankfully, her uncle also appears to be in a bit of a better mood than he was on Wednesday. When he turns down dinner this time, he offers me an apologetic grin.
"I'm not poisoning the food, Edward," I smirk, raising a brow.
He laughs. He actually laughs, and God, he's just…wondrous when he laughs. His green eyes sparkle, and his lips turn up in something other than a scowl, and this deep, beautiful, booming noise rumbles deep in his chest.
And Mel laughs too, so I feel like I'm on a roll here; like I must've done something good today.
"She's really not poisoning it, Uncle Edward. I helped her make it, so I should know."
She's thrown over the couch, looking relaxed while watching TV, and despite the fact that she's only been with me for a week, she already looks like she belongs there.
And Edward's work boots look so comfy by the door over there.
"Should you?" Edward smirks at her. "Hmmm, well then…maybe I should try this concoction."
My heart leaps, and I can't help the huge grin that erupts. God, I'm sure my fascination with him is written all over my face, and I don't care one little bit anymore.
"Come on!" I urge him on, heading towards the kitchen.
"Uh…do you mind if I wash up a bit?" I hear him ask.
"Oh." I stop, and turn around. He holds up his hands for me to see the dirt and grime.
He does look dirty…and so strong.
"The bathroom's right over there. There are towels in the cabinet under the sink if you want to clean yourself off." I'm about to offer him the use of my shower, but Mel's here, and something about voicing that offer aloud in front of her seems…illicit.
But Mel or not, my daydream suddenly returns and I see myself with a white towel…cleaning off Edward…removing all the dirt from his chiseled face…erasing the grime from his strong shoulders…washing his soft, silky hair…
"Thanks," he murmurs, eyes firmly on mine as if he can somehow read my thoughts. We're half a room apart, but suddenly it's as we're chest to chest and I can almost feel his heart beating next to mine. I can't look away while he holds my gaze; while Mel lays over the couch between us, quietly watching TV.
"Alright, I'm going to go clean up."
"Alright, I'll go get a plate ready for you."
"Okay."
"Okay."
I'm not sure how much time passes before he turns around and I finally walk into the kitchen, quietly reminding myself to, "Breathe, Bella. Breathe."
OOOOOOOOOO
Edward is sitting on my kitchen stool, in his black socks, hands and face cleaner than I've ever seen them. The striking green eyes are even more prominent when his face is clean, sparkling like two emeralds from between a ruggedly beautiful face. The motion of his angular jaw as he chews his chicken has me hypnotized…up and down and I know I shouldn't be staring, but…
So he's eating his yellow rice and stewed chicken, and he fucking moans…he moans after every other bite or so, while my I try not to drool because I'm afraid it wouldn't be very appetizing to look at, and he's obviously really enjoying my meal…his meal.
"Mm mm, oh my God, Bella, this is…"
He doesn't manage to finish the sentence before shoving another forkful between that perfect mouth of his while I happily sit next to him.
In between forkfuls, he's telling me about his boss and buddy, Emmett, and I'm absorbing every detail of information like a woman who's been through the desert and has finally found a small, sparkly oasis full of the most dazzlingly delicious water.
"So what exactly are you working on, Edward?" I ask excitedly.
He stops eating and sets his fork down, sitting back while he holds my gaze steadily for a few seconds.
"We're converting an old warehouse into residential lofts."
He says this solemnly, green, green eyes piercing, studying me as if he's waiting for some sort of reaction.
"Oh yeah? There's so much of that going on here in Brooklyn, isn't there?"
His eyes hold me captive for a few more seconds, and then with a deep sigh, he says, "Yeah. Yeah, there is." And then he grins and returns to his food.
"You seem… a lot more relaxed today than you did on Wednesday."
He looks up at me again, holding my gaze yet again but no longer with that strange intensity. "I've been hearing that a lot lately," he grins, and I wonder if he knows that every single time he's grinned tonight, he's stopped my heart.
"Yeah? Why have you been hearing that?" I smile.
He smirks, again watching me as if I should know the answer. Instead of responding though, he slowly allows his eyes to leave mine, slowly sweeping them up and down my body and raising every single goose bump on every single surface.
"That's an interesting outfit," he says, quirking a brow. "Are you going dancing tonight, Bella?"
I look down at my flapper costume - black, sequined, fringe dress and a black headband with a feather sticking out of it – and laugh.
"Does this really look like something I'd wear to go dancing?"
"Why not? You look…" – he exhales heavily – "amazing."
My cheeks absolutely flame; I mean I can feel them burning, but in such a delicious way. I look down at the space between us for one long moment, watching my chest heave with hopeful excitement.
"Thanks," I murmur when I meet his eyes again, grinning like a fool. "But it's just a recital costume. Mel and I were fooling around."
"Oh," he mouths. "So if that's not an actual club outfit, what do you wear when you go dancing then?"
"I…haven't really been dancing in a while," I admit.
"But you're a dancer," he snorts. "How come a dancer hasn't been dancing in a while?"
"Well…"
I can feel my heart rate speeding up, my face burning again, but no longer from excitement; this time it's from fear that he'll see. That if he keeps looking at me he'll read the truth in my eyes and not only will all this suddenly stop, but he'll take Mel away.
So I drop my eyes again, ashamed now instead of thrilled.
"It's…it's just…" I stutter, "I need a break. I need to…" I sigh and force myself to look up.
He's watching me with such a soft and tender expression of concern on his face; and patience, and somehow, his anxious eyes give me the strength to offer him some sort of explanation.
"Have you ever felt like…you were going about things all wrong, but you're not sure what the right way is, and you just need some time to figure it all out?"
He furrows his dark brows, searching my eyes questioningly, yet I force myself to hold his gaze.
"Yeah," he finally smirks, exhaling heavily. "I definitely know about that, Bella."
For some reason, I wave of relief soars through me. "Well I need to figure some stuff out. And until then…until then…"
"Until then…no dancing?" Half of his mouth crooks up in a bemused partial grin.
"No dancing," I agree with a relieved smile. "At least, no extra-curricular dancing."
We both chuckle, and he nods thoughtfully, but now I'm afraid that I've ruined the mood.
"A dancer that doesn't go dancing," he muses quietly, shaking his head. "Bella Swan…you're an enigma," he accuses - but he grins so fully as he says it that I know he's teasing, and again, I'm flooded with relief.
"I'm an enigma!" I retort, and then put a hand out to shake his mockingly. "Hey, Pot, I'm Kettle!"
He chuckles and stares down at my hand for half a beat before taking it. I've got to fight to suppress the gasp that wants to escape when he envelops my hand so completely, sliding his long, strong fingers along mine, lacing them together. We stare down at our hands, strong and fragile, rough and softer, and all I can think of is that this is how this began…whatever this is…with a simple handshake.
Then Edward grins and releases my hand slowly, returning to his food.
"So you still haven't finished telling me why you seem so relaxed tonight," I wonder aloud, trying to compose myself.
Edward gives me a sidelong glance, taking a bite of his food and chewing it thoroughly, his Adams apple bobbing up and down. Once he swallows, he angles himself sideways.
"I'm more relaxed tonight because it's been a good week, despite a…problem I had to deal with a couple of days ago. But it worked out fine, and we actually managed to finish up something big at work today that might be really productive for business. So all in all, it's been a good few days."
"That's great!" I exclaim, genuinely thrilled because I can tell how much this means to him.
"Yeah," he says softly, his green eyes warm and…more peaceful than I've ever seen them, "it really is great."
My heart goes pitter patter.
"Well, we've got to celebrate!"
He chuckles. "What do you suggest?"
I jump up and turn around, rushing to the fridge and rummaging around a bit for the half empty bottle that Angie and I failed to finish early last week.
"Aha! Here it is! Now, it's wine instead of champagne," I giggle, "and I know you're driving, but we'll just have a small, celebratory sip."
I pull out the bottle and quickly set it on the counter in front of Edward before turning back around to the cabinets. Angie and I went ghetto and just sipped it out of plastic cups the other night, but this is Edward, and he had a good week. So I search past the stacked plates and the glass tumblers until I find the long-stemmed, crystal wine glasses I haven't used in a while. They clink against each other as I pull them out, sending butterflies fluttering deep in my stomach as I picture Edward and I toasting together, clinking my glass against his… holding his gaze over the glass rim…
"I hope you like this bottle. It has a nice, sweet taste that stays on your palate…"
I turn around with a wide grin, my excitement for the evening building-
But Edward is no longer there.
"Edward?"
Holding the two sparkly, wine goblets close to my chest, I walk out of the kitchen and into the living area. The fringe from my flapper dress swooshes back and forth against my legs.
"Edward?"
Edward is standing over Mel, telling her to get up – right now.
"Is everything okay?" I ask.
"Yeah, yeah," he assures me, facing Mel. "It was just a long day, and I'd like to get home and relax. Come on, Mel, speed it up," he says.
"Coming, coming!" Mel says, leaning over the couch to get her sneakers on.
"Thanks for dinner, Bella," Edward says coolly, his back still to me. "It was great. And thanks for watching Mel."
"Uhm…okay…" I feel a sense of dread all of a sudden because Edward won't look at me, and I thought we were past that. "Actually, I was wondering if you guys wanted to hang out tonight and watch a movie. We could get something on demand, or on Netflix."
"Ooh, can we, Uncle Ed?" Mel says, pausing in her sneaker-tying to give her uncle a pleading look.
"Like I said," he shakes his head, "it was a long day, but thanks for the offer. Hurry up, Mel."
"Okay, okay." Mel grumbles before getting up. She walks over and wraps her arms around me, squeezing tight. "Thanks so much, Miss Bella. I've had such a great week!"
"I've had a great week with you too, Mel," I murmur, trying not to let Edward's sudden change affect my parting with Mel, but my mind is in bewildered chaos. He stands behind us practically vibrating with his need to get away and all I can imagine is that he saw the real me. In that one moment when I let my guard down, he saw the truth, and he's completely disgusted now.
"Like I told you earlier, Mel," I say, trying to keep my voice calm, "just call me Bella when we're not at the studio, okay?"
"Okay, Bella," she grins, clearly thrilled. I try my best to return her happy smile before she hugs me tight one more time and then walks to the door, stepping out into the hallway.
Edward finally turns to face me, but his eyes won't meet mine.
"Edward, did I say something wrong?"
"What? No, No," he assures me. "Look, thanks so much for all your help this week. I really appreciate it."
And he turns to leave.
"Edward-" I say following him to the door, but he won't stop. "Edward, tell me what I said or did."
"You didn't say or do anything, Bella," he repeats, almost growls as he sticks his feet quickly back into his boots. Boots I was hoping would've rested in that corner for at least a couple of hours more. My heart clenches tightly as I watch him. "You're…perfect is what you are. Just god damn perfect."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I frown wildly, gripping the top of my hair and tearing the fucking feather out of my head. "Why are you rushing out? Edward?"
"Good night, Bella," he turns to the door, and I grab his arm because I'm not letting him storm out on me, but he whips around so quickly that I gasp aloud, taking a step back as he slides his rough hands around my face, cradling it tightly; so tight it almost hurts. Almost.
"Look," he breathes, "you will never know how much all this means to me…and to Mel. She obviously worships you, and you deserve it. You deserve to be worshiped night and day. I'm grateful for all the care you obviously give her, and for the job you've given her, and for the ballet lessons and the ballet costume, and for the god damn delicious dinners for the both of us, and it's all more than I'll ever be able to repay you for. So please, let me leave with at least a modicum of my pride intact."
I wrap my hands over his, squeezing him as tightly as he's squeezing me.
"Christ, Edward, when the hell did I ever ask you to repay me? I don't care about any of that! I don't want or need you to repay-"
"Bella…" he says in a pained whisper, stroking my cheeks carefully with his thumbs. And I can't help it. Despite his words, despite the fact that I know that regardless of how tightly he's holding on, what he's really doing is pushing me away, I lean into his touch. I close my eyes momentarily and revel in the feel of his callused thumbs over my skin.
"Bella, I know you don't need me to repay you. I know you don't need it, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve it. You deserve so much more…" he says roughly, squeezing his eyes shut for two seconds, "so much more than I'd ever be able to give you, Bella, so please just…" - he lifts a hand off my face to rake it angrily through his hair while I look on at him, stunned beyond comprehension – and then he places it over my chest, over my racing heart – "let's just keep this the way it is. You help me out with Mel out of the kindness of your beautiful heart, and I accept that help because I'm a selfish bastard. Goodbye."
And despite it all, despite everything, he turns and walks out.
OOOOOOOOOO
"Chica, I don't even know what to tell you at this point," Angie says when I relay the latest events to her the next day. "Maybe he's bipolar?"
I smirk at her. "No, I don't think he's bipolar. I'm pretty sure even bipolar sufferers give you some sort of warning before they go from zero to one-twenty."
"Yeah, I think you're right," she agrees.
"I just…I don't even know where it went wrong! One minute he's talking to me…I mean, really talking to me; we were even flirting a bit. And he's telling me about work, and his friend, Emmett, and he's happy cuz he finished up some project on time. Then I turn to get something, and by the time I turn back around, he's morphed into Bizarro Edward. I don't…" – I let out a huge breath of frustration – "I don't even know what to do anymore."
"Hey…" Angie puts an arm around me. "Well, he's still going to bring Mellie around, right?"
"Yeah," I say quietly because I'm afraid if I speak any louder I'll start screaming. "Thank God."
Angie is quiet for a while. "She's really important to you."
It's not a question, so I don't bother answering.
"Ay, Bellita," Angie sighs after a while. "You've gotten yourself so deep into this…"
"Yeah…" I dig my hands into my scalp and grip hard while she looks at me thoughtfully, biting her lip, and I think I see some wheels turning, which is really dangerous when it comes to Angie.
"You know what? Fuck it! I hate to say it, because I was the first proponent to hooking you up with Papi Chulo, but I'm thinking that maybe it's time to cut your losses here."
"What?' I ask because I really wasn't expecting that. She's been all gung ho Papi Chulo for weeks now.
"I mean Bella, maybe you're just not meant to find out what Papi Chulo's deal is. He keeps pushing you away and pushing you away and maybe it's just time to…let him. You, Isabella Maria Swan, are one hot chick, and you don't need that shit. What you need is to get out there again, to live your own life again. The shit with Eli totally did a number on you, and now this shit with Papi Chulo is bringing you down even more. You need to say fuck you to both of them, and get on with it!"
"Angie…I'm not so sure I-"
"No! Don't Angie me, damn it! I'm glad you feel so close to Mel, but you have a life too, Bella! At least you should. You're gorgeous and single and you need to live again! I'm setting you up with Tyler's friend!"
"Angie, no! I don't think-"
"No, you don't think, not about yourself and that's your problem. Look," she dips her head and meets my gaze, eye to eye, "I'm not saying you have to go out and fall in love or even fuck the next guy you have dinner with, but shit Bella, go out and have fun again! You're twenty-four Bella, not forty! Meet people again! Live your life! Who knows? Maybe while you're living again, things will fall into place."
I look at her skeptically because right now it just doesn't feel as if anything is ever going to fall into place.
"Tyler's friend is a nice guy, Bella. Just go and have a nice dinner with him, that's all. You might actually enjoy yourself," she grins. "So what do you say? Should I set it up?"
A/N: Thoughts?
Wait! Before you come at me with pitchforks, stay tuned for next week…there may actually be a method to my madness, and you may actually enjoy it…
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