Posted: 2021-09-10; Beta'd by Eeyorefan12

Bella felt almost giddy with excitement—most of it nervous excitement tinged with fear. She would have loved to borrow some of the stoic calm Edward had been displaying since they'd gotten out of bed that morning, but he was off somewhere handling a last-minute travel detail.

Gathering her few remaining personal belongings and stuffing them into her carry-on, she was also distracted—physically anyways.

Horny, Swan. You can admit that you're horny as all get out.

Bella shoved a sweater into the bag, trying to envision what the next day and days would hold. It was almost fantastical, the idea of leaving. Even more so was speculating what being at home with Edward would be like.

Being together. Having a life together. She hadn't dared give it a lot of thought until now. The other night had changed everything.

Her back to the room, she paused, regulating her breathing. Yes, that was what she was looking at. Those three words that he'd whispered to her after they'd made love had been the ones she'd been too afraid to be the one to say first, or speak aloud at all. She hadn't wanted to return them at that moment, afraid he'd think they were uttered out of mutual expectation. She wanted to say them when there would be no mistaking how sincerely they were meant.

But the fact that he had? Hearing them had opened the floodgates to thoughts she hadn't dared to entertain until now—the possibility that this wasn't all pretend anymore and that she and Edward would actually live out this fantasy for real. It was something she had just begun to realize she wanted. Now it was all she could think of.

Steadying herself with a deep breath, Bella turned her attention to a more practical matter: she was going to have to introduce him to her parents.

Wow.

Had Edward even told his family about them? She'd barely thought about it, but decided that he must have. He would have had to tell his father, at least, and hadn't Jasper been the one who got her passport for her? Edward would have had to explain the sudden urgency to his brother in law.

Yes, his family must know by now.

Even with all of this swimming in her head, part of her was jittery with nerves. What if Aro was only toying with them? Was it merely a way to trip them up, saying they could go home?

She shook her head. Jesus, Swan. Accept things at face value. You're going home. If you're not—well, you can cross that bridge when you come to it. Edward will be with you.

It wasn't until they were sitting on the jet and the door had closed that Bella let herself close her eyes in relief, tears running down her cheeks. They were going home.

"We did it," she whispered.

Edward squeezed her hand gently. "Almost." The word was a warning. They were still on Aro's territory, after all. "We'll have two legs for this journey," he explained. "Aro's jet will take us to a private strip in Portugal where our jet and crew will pick us up."

The Cullens have their own jet and crew? How this surprised her, after everything that had happened to them, she didn't know, but it did. She supposed she had a lot to learn about him and his family, still. Their seemingly-vast finances, unflaunted as they were, startled her every time she brushed up against them. She felt tawdry simply thinking about it, but the idea of financial security was still foreign to her after her years of scraping by on her student loans.

It didn't help when Edward pulled out the envelope that Aro had given him.

"What do you want to do with this?" he asked.

She looked at it, twisting her mouth in an expression of distaste. Not touch it? Burn it? Instead, she paused, thinking. "That's . . . a lot of cash."

"Why, yes it is," Edward said, smirking.

"No making fun of me, you."

He made a half-hearted attempt at stifling the smile but he was still waiting for her answer.

He'd already suggested they were still being listened to, so she mouthed her next words. "Can we give it away?"

"Sounds good to me. Where?"

She didn't have to think long. "The shelter."

He hummed, something like a rueful laugh there. "We wouldn't have met without it. Done." He put the cash back inside his bag.

Once in Portugal and off of Aro's plane, Edward and Bella walked hand in hand toward the smaller jet waiting for them. It was hot out on the tarmac, and the air rippled around them in a mirage. Passing through the sweltering distortion seemed a fitting end to their time in Italy. She could not wait to get further away from Aro and his band of jerks.

As they neared the aircraft, she noticed a handful of men nearby wearing what looked like tactical pants and dark shirts, each of them strapped with a firearm. Their stance would appear casual to the untrained eye, but Bella realized, with some amusement, that not only was she unfazed by their presence, she was becoming adept at reading such deceptive watchfulness. She'd seen it often enough when Franco had accompanied her anywhere . . . or when Edward did. None of the men said anything, but several nodded to Edward, who returned the gesture.

The crew member who approached them came with a small plastic and metal wand in hand. Even though they were out of sight of the other plane, Edward pressed his finger against his lips. The man ran the wand over Edward's body. Then he gestured for Bella to stand before him to do the same to her. There were no telling blips for either of them.

"Give me your phone," Edward mouthed to her.

She rifled through her bag, digging it out and handing it over.

With a dexterity she admired, he extracted both SIM cards and dropped them to the ground, crushing them underfoot. Then he handed over the phones and their carry-on bags to the screener "Pull the batteries," he said quietly, and the man nodded.

"They need to check everything for bugs," Edward told Bella. Before the crewman disappeared, though, Edward pulled her book out of her bag, quickly flipping through its pages. "This is fine"—he smiled and handed it to her—"and you'll probably want something to do on the plane. Everything else will be with us in a day or two when it's been cleared."

Book schmook, she thought, looking at him. She wasn't sure what the configuration on the jet was, but she could think of a lot of things she could do in its privacy, her primary choice standing right in front of her.

Since they had walked across the tarmac hand in hand, Bella thought it was odd when Edward waved her ahead of him to board the Cullens' plane, but she quickly dismissed the concern. Relief would appear very differently for both of them. Or maybe he didn't want the crew to know they were together like that yet?

Once on board, when Bella reached out and squeezed his hand, Edward only reciprocated briefly and then let go, turning and pulling two cloth bags from a cabinet. "Here. Toiletries and a new phone are in here." He held it out to her, not making eye contact.

This time it was harder to dismiss the uncertainty she felt.

Looking around, she chose a seat and sat down. Edward stepped to the front of the plane for a few minutes, where he conversed with the pilot, and she watched out the window as the men from outside moved out of sight, presumably boarding through the cargo area.

So much for those private moments with Edward you've been envisioning.

When Edward sat down across the aisle from her, he had a laptop in his hands. "Bella? Do you need anything? I have to get to some stuff—"

"Yeah, no, I'm good." Of course, he would have to get caught up on work.

He ran a hand through his hair as he studied her face. "I'm sorry. I'll come and sit with you in a bit. I just need to get a head start on this."

"Of course."

The hollow feeling in her stomach persisted.

You're being paranoid, she told herself. Par-a-noid.

But paranoia was a normal response to trauma. Normal, see? she told herself. To distract herself, she indexed what she knew of the aftereffects related to hostage situations. She'd read about them in those few weeks between her first and second confinements: anxiety, guilt, numbness, anger, depression, memory loss—it was a long list. She reminded herself that, until a couple of weeks ago, she'd considered her feelings for Edward to be one of those aftereffects—the idea that she'd somehow bonded to him as her captor had crossed her mind even in Stockbridge. But that was before.

And she'd been lucky so far. Her treatment had at least been humane. As she looked at Edward, that hollowness melted slightly. More than humane. She had him.

Edward's tasks seemed all-consuming. He looked up briefly when the attendant brought them each something to eat and drink. He didn't interact with the men who'd boarded with them, and since they stayed at the back, neither did Bella. Her book couldn't hold her attention. She'd slept so poorly the night before, she wasn't surprised when she found herself being nudged awake.

"Almost there," Edward said, his tone serious. He'd moved to one seat apart from her.

"You make that sound like a bad thing," she mumbled, yawning.

He chuckled uneasily. "I'm not looking forward to dealing with the backlog waiting for me, if I'm being honest."

"I bet. More Aro stuff?" They had been away for almost two months. Would Edward still have to deal with the Morandis?

"A bit," Edward said, "but not for much longer, if I can help it."

The lack of detail wasn't surprising. He'd always been cagey about the details of what he and his family did. She could hardly expect that to change. He likely meant to insulate her from further endangerment. The less she knew—

"How are you doing? You okay?" Edward asked.

"I'm fine." The lie slipped easily off her tongue. "Why?"

"This is . . . a lot. To go from where we were psychologically to complete freedom will be . . . jarring."

She didn't like the sound of that—complete freedom.

The smile he was giving her looked forced. "So, how does it feel to have outfoxed the Italian mob?"

She laughed, albeit nervously.

His expression grew sober again as he looked into her eyes. "But seriously, Bella, I owe you. We owe you—my whole family. What you did in Italy, well, it saved us all, quite literally. Thank you."

"I had some help."

"A little," Edward said, "if you don't count the person who got you into this mess in the first place."

Mess?

Edward cleared his throat. "But now I expect you're ready to put it behind you and I wanted to talk about what's going to happen after we land, and where things go from here for you."

Her breath caught on that one last and very singular pronoun.

Breathe. Take it easy with the paranoia.

Paranoia was a tricky thing, though—and powerful. They had been playing parts for almost two months. Had he been so good as to play her, too? Or had she been so naive as to be fooled?

Jesus, quit it already!

"We'll spend the night at a hotel in Boston. As I promised, Jasper's bought a place for you right outside of Charlestown, not too far from your old apartment. It's in both our names but . . . it's yours, okay?"

She went numb.

Either because she'd had so much practice in hiding her emotions in Italy, or because of the numbness, Bella didn't react physically to this chilling news. Oh, her denial was coming apart at the seams.

She hadn't been paranoid.

She'd been right.

Edward ran his hand through his hair. "I know you'd wanted to go home to the west coast. If that's still your plan, I'll establish a satellite office in Seattle—"

Hope fluttered briefly in her stomach. If she'd had a pin she would have stabbed it to the wall in front of her.

"—so that it'll look like we've both moved there. I'll travel there to keep up the ruse, but you'll have your life. Wherever you choose to live will have to be in our names together, but that's easy enough to arrange at a distance. Jasper's already gotten accounts set up for us to use, so that on paper, we'll look like we're living together as a married couple—"

She thought of her hope—a butterfly—pinned and dead.

Again, her attention fell upon the single distinguishing word: like. A simile. A pretense.

People who loved each other did not make arrangements like this for each other.

The rest of the information faded into the sucking absence of feeling that had spread over her body. She nodded where she thought it was appropriate, noting everything but nothing in that frighteningly detached way that the shock enabled her to do.

He didn't want her. He'd never wanted her. She'd been the idiot that had bought the ruse. She and Aro. She almost burst into laughter, it was so preposterous.

You idiot. You utter fool. You thought the charade you helped make was real.

"—student loans are paid off, because it would look suspicious if they weren't. Besides, it only seems fair after everything you had to go through. As soon as we aren't working with Aro anymore, we should be safe enough to file for a divorce—"

Master Sergeant Edward Cullen, Counterintelligence Specialist, would have known every single thing he needed to do to flawlessly achieve their goal.

He kept you safe. He promised that he would get you home, and he has. So suck it up, Swan, and get on with it.

"—arranged for counseling with someone very discreet that we use when necessary. And to keep up the pretense of your wanting to work, I've got some leads on jobs for you, but you don't need to worry about finances—"

All so carefully and coldly arranged. He'd planned this.

He . . . planned all of this. She stopped herself before she could think too much about to what degree he'd organized things in advance. A wave of nausea rippled through her stomach.

"—I know this will be an adjustment, but you've been so strong. I'm sure you'll be relieved to get on with your life . . . "

Bella allowed the numbness to spread.

It was like watching rain on a windshield, listening to him talk. The words seemed to plop down in front of her, slowly sliding into her consciousness.

She made herself nod where appropriate.

As the rest of his words washed over her, she stared at the choices available to her: she could give in to her feelings of foolishness, humiliation, and rejection, or she could honor what she'd felt for him, even if it hadn't been reciprocated.

She watched him watch her, the familiar and worried wrinkle in his forehead as he waited on her response.

With her hands pressed against the chair arms, she paused in her moment of decision, thinking about the man before her. All he had done. All that she knew of him.

He swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He was anxious, but his anxiety was for her. He wanted her to be okay. The moment was a miniature of the profound lengths he'd gone to in keeping her safe.

"Thank you," she made herself say. "For getting me home, and for taking care of all of this. I—I really hope you'll go over this information again, or someone will, because it's all a little—"

"Overwhelming. Yes." He rubbed the back of his neck. "If there's anything you need, you can always call me. I'll make sure you have a contact in case you can't reach me and you have questions." He gave her a tenuous smile. "I don't want to get in the way of you living your life any more than I already have. We will likely need to see each other to sign papers or, God forbid, if Aro comes to visit, but I don't think that's likely. I'll try to stay out of your way as much as possible."

Looking down, she blinked rapidly to stifle her tears. The sight of her ring held them at bay, and she moved to twist it from her finger.

"No," Edward said, stopping her with a gentle press of his hand. "You'll need to wear it. I'm sorry. It'd be—"

"Suspicious. Right."

The charade had always been a charade. It would only ever be a charade.

"You've been amazing through all of this, Bella. You really have. I hope you give yourself credit for that. I certainly do." He looked so sincere saying it.

She didn't deserve the compliment. Only one of them had been acting.

She walked numbly off the plane and into the waiting car, and then numbly into the boutique hotel and then the spacious suite he led her to, smiling away his offer of food. "I'm tired, Edward. I'm ready to get some real sleep. I'm sure you are, too."

She glanced around her and saw that the room adjacent to this one was a second bedroom. She tilted her head in that direction. "You'll take that one?"

He noticeably hesitated before nodding, that worried wrinkle still between his eyebrows. She felt a swell of feeling for him. He'd gone through so much to keep her safe, it had become second nature to him. It was time to let him off the hook. Lightly, she let her hand rest briefly on his arm. "You can stop worrying about me now." And before her voice betrayed her breaking heart: "You can live your life now."

With a single dip of his head, he looked down at the floor. "I'll need to leave early tomorrow morning, but Jasper's arranged for"—he pulled out his phone and scrolled through it—"Marissa to come by with everything you'll need. She should be here by nine."

Keeping her eyes downcast to hide the tears she feared were coming, she only nodded.

In the moments that followed, she could practically feel Edward's eyes on her, studying her. Then he broke the silence.

"Bella," he said, his tone subdued, "I can...if you need me to, I'll stay on for an extra day or two"—he cleared his throat—"to make sure you're—"

"No, no. You don't need to stay." She blinked twice and forced a smile before she looked up at him, hoping her expression looked reassuring "It's just the jet-lag. I'm sure Marissa will be great. Thank you." Who was this talking? It wasn't her, but dang, she could use the services of someone so emotionally detached. She hoped this stranger that had taken over her body stuck around, because the rest of her was coiling into a ball that was trying to deflect every hurt being thrown its way.

How was it she'd been so sure he loved her? Oh yeah, because he'd said it—she knew he had.

Then came the sudden epiphany: He said it for the microphones. It wasn't meant for you.

Thank God she hadn't said it back. How much more ridiculous would she be feeling now?

She watched him nod at her refusal before he surprised her with a brief and awkward hug. By the time she realized what he was doing, the moment was over.

"Sleep well, Bella." He turned and walked into the adjoining room, closing the door behind him.

Sleep was a fitful series of waking moments spent listening for the sound of him leaving. She thought she heard his footsteps several times, but when she didn't hear the door open, she decided she had imagined it. When the sunlight woke her next, it was his actual departure that she heard. At the window of her room, she hid behind the curtain, watching Edward walk down the front sidewalk to a waiting SUV. He looked up, and her breath caught. Had he seen her?

No.

She couldn't see all the detail on his face, but she expected to see relief in his features. The look of concern she thought she saw instead surprised her, but she shook her head. She was imagining things.

Without warning, Edward turned and walked briskly back towards the hotel entrance, out of her line of sight. Had he forgotten something?

When he returned to the car a moment later, he was sliding on his sunglasses and running his hand through his hair, looking agitated. His features were tense as he spoke to his driver, shaking his head emphatically, and then he slipped into the passenger seat and was gone.

Bella turned her back on the window. She had no business wondering about him. He'd more than done his part. She'd thank him by not trying to impose any more than she already had. No one needed a pitiful display of unrequited feelings.

No. She would not be made any more of a fool by herself or anyone else.

Author's postscript: This brings us to the end of part 2. There are about 65 chapters in total, so loooads more story to come.

Eeyorefan12's note: Forget what you think you know. This isn't New Moon. All story tags still apply: Romantic Thriller, Mafia/Organized Crime, Adventure . . . and my personal favorite: HEA.

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.