I do not own Twilight
This new room is adjoining and Beth has clued us in on the fact that, with a simple button, a few correctional officers and Mike can watch the proceedings from the room we were in before. It's a one-way mirror, so we cannot see them.
I'm practically shaken to the core as I sit in the chair beside Emmett, opposite Beth. The chair reserved for Edward is closest to Emmett and turned in so the four of us are facing each other in a semi-circle.
"It makes for a less claustrophobic space, I believe," Beth says when she sees me eyeing the empty space beside me.
"Before we bring him in," Beth holds a legal pad steady on her crossed legs, "I'd like to go through a few things." Her eyes are explicitly on me so I'm sure Emmett has had this conversation before. I swallow and clasp my hands together, suddenly wishing I had worn more than the flimsy blouse I have on. The room is cold, and not in a low-temperature manner.
"First and foremost, this is an open space. Feel free to say whatever you'd like. The guards on the other side of the mirror cannot hear anything," at this I gasp because I know Mike will not like that information, and Beth quirks an eyebrow at me.
"Secondly," she continues, "Edward is still in the process of understanding his emotions and his volatile reactions. Don't expect him to be completely healed, or completely repentant for things he's done in his past. If he says something that upsets you, air it, but don't linger on pain that you've felt. This session is for him; it is not a segment for you to air your concerns with him." Her eyes are steady on me and I'm suddenly wondering what Edward has told her about me, because it seems she thinks I am in some sort of dominant position.
"I—" I start, but she continues.
"Don't be discouraged if he won't talk. Lord knows we've been trying." She smiles at Emmett and I glance over to see a tight-lipped smile on his face.
He looks over at me as he says to Beth, "I guarantee you, if Bella can't get him talking, nothing will."
The smile on Beth's face is forced. "Yes, well…" she trails off and clears her throat, standing abruptly. "I'll have them bring him in," she says and then is gone.
I turn to Emmett, my eyes wide and already brimming with tears. He can see the hesitation, the uncertainty in my gaze and shrugs.
"She thinks this is my fault," I say, and it's not a question.
Emmett lets out a lungful of air. "I think she just wants him to realize that you've moved on and he should, too."
The chill to the room turns into an outright freeze and I'm suddenly shaking in my seat.
"Em," I beg, leaning forward in my seat to stand, "I don't know if I can do this," but the metal door is opening and Beth is walking through, a real smile on her lips, a slight flush to her face and I'm suddenly anchored to my seat because I'm not about to let her think, for one second, any of this is my fault. I'm not going to let her poison his mind with ideas that I'm bad for him.
She notes my posture and I sit back rigidly. Emmett never said a word, only his brow raised in surprise at my outburst, but he, too, sits back as Beth opens the door wider for the guard who has Edward in tow, hands cuffed in front of him.
The breath is knocked out of me when I see him for the first time in months because he looks so different and so much the same. He's still just as stunning as the boy I left in Washington, just as enigmatically beautiful as the teenager I fell in love with; his bronze hair is growing out again, curling around his ears, his eyes are the shocking emerald I always remember.
But he's different.
His expression, the glaze of his eyes, the stone face.
He looks like he's lived a thousand, pain-filled years and has a thousand more to go.
He looks like I felt when I let him go and I instantly recognize the sensation.
Numb. He's completely and utterly numb.
I've seen snippets of this before—when his mom left, when his dad blamed him, when my mom told him he wasn't good enough for me. I've seen it, but never lived it.
It's like he's given up.
The sob that rips through my constricted throat surprises even me, so it's no shock when Edward's eyes widen and his head lifts, glancing first at Emmett and then quickly at me. His eyes linger and there's a tiny spark of the boy I know in there, deep down. The one who fought head to toe for me; the one who loved me with every minuscule portion of his body.
Emmett's hand touches my shoulder soothingly and I bite down hard on my lip, trying to control myself because I know Mike's in the other room, watching me like a hawk.
Edward's eyes are also on me, but with a different perspective. He's staring at me like the light at the end of the tunnel he just realized he will never reach.
Suddenly the chill to the room is nonexistent.
I burn for him, and him alone.