Chapter 32. The Birthday. Part II
After rescuing four more turtles, Edward and I head back. We relax on the beach for a while, and I end up falling asleep with my head on his chest as we rock in a hammock that hangs from two palm trees.
When I open my eyes, he's looking at me, his hand in my hair pulling strands between his fingers.
"Sorry," I say through a little yawn. "I didn't mean to pass out on you."
"Hey, it's fine." His smile is sweet as his thumb rubs on my cheek. There's a bit of sadness in his eyes—longing—as he stares at me for a few seconds, before he composes his face.
"You okay?" I ask and he just nods, nuzzling into my neck.
My heart aches in my chest. I feel the longing too, and I wonder if he's thinking what I'm thinking. What I can't escape. The fact that I am leaving in two weeks.
Before I can say anything, he clears his throat, lifting his head. "There's a bonfire tonight. Not for your birthday," he explains as I narrow my eyes at him. "Total coincidence, but I hear there will be dancing." When he cringes, I laugh, and the sullen moment is over.
"Oh good," I say teasingly, running my fingers on his chest. "That should definitely be on the list. Dancing. With you."
"I never agreed to you adding stuff to my list." He kisses me softly and sits us up. "But it is your birthday. So, I'll let you have it."
"Then count me in."
~~o~~
We walk to my cabin so I have time to get ready while he says he has some errands to run. He promises it has nothing to do with my birthday, and that he will be back to pick me up before the bonfire.
There's actually more than enough time for me to get ready, so I end up calling Charlie and passing out for another quick nap that ends when Rose comes back.
"Happy—"
"Shhhh," I interrupt her, sitting up on the bed. My birthday has actually gone well so far. The more we ignore it, the better the chances it keeps going this well.
"How are you?" She sits next to me on my bed. "I feel like I haven't seen you at all since you've been whoring it up with Surfie."
I smile. I flush. I can't even deny it.
"Oh, it's good, isn't it?" She playfully elbows me on the side.
"The best."
"I told you Costa Rica was going to be good for us."
"It's not just the sex, Rose. He's… he's everything." I grab her hand, because I feel my emotions bubbling all of the sudden and I don't know why my eyes are starting to fill with tears.
"Oh, Bella, you're such a goner."
"I don't know what to do." I sniffle, looking at her. "We leave in two weeks."
"Have you talked to him about it?"
"No…"
"Bella, he's crazy about you too." She lets go of my hand to rub my shoulder. "He won't shut up to Emmett about your safety. He's been planning your birthday for weeks. If you ask me, he's a goner too." She gives my shoulder one last squeeze before she leaves the bed. "Just talk about it with him. I'm sure you guys can figure something out."
"Something like what, though? A long distance relationship? He doesn't even have a phone!"
"Again with the phone." Her arms flail at her sides as she starts rummaging through the closet. "He could get one, Bella. He could come visit. I don't know. Is he staying here for good? What's his plan?" Her words are muffled as her head is buried deep in the closet.
"I don't know." I look down at my hands, at his bracelet. "He's… reserved about personal stuff," I say, twisting the carved turtle between my fingers.
"Sounds to me like you need to get off his dick for a little bit, at least enough time for you two to have a real conversation." She finally resurfaces from the closet, turning to me. "Ask him what his plan is. What he wants to do. But don't leave it for the last day. Because I know you. You're going to create some massive expectation in your head that he might not fulfill, then it will all blow out of proportion. So, better get that out of the way now."
I sigh. She's right. I need to talk to Edward. What's the worst that could happen?
"You know I'm right," she confirms, starting to pile dresses on my bed. "I promised no cake, and nobody else knows it's your birthday, but… we are going to party. And you are going to look gorgeous. Okay?"
"Okay." I sigh, getting up from the bed and walking closer to her as she holds up a navy blue dress between me and the mirror. "That's short," I say, pressing the dress to my body and turning to the side. It would barely cover my butt.
"Surfie's an ass man, right?"
"Well, obviously," I say, waving down at my boobs, or lack thereof.
"Then that's the one." Rose laughs, shaking her head.
By the time we're ready, there's a knock on the door, and she rushes to it in her red dress while I stand behind her.
I feel tingles as I see him. In khaki shorts and a short sleeve, light blue button up, his hair is damp but somewhat tamed—with his eyes bright and green and on me, and a smile on his face.
"Hi," Rose says to Emmett, who's standing next to Edward, and as they embrace, I take a couple steps in Edward's direction.
He closes his hands around my waist and pulls me to him. His body bends over me as his face makes it to my neck. "Is that a dress?" he whispers in my ear, his hand roaming down from my waist until it cups my ass.
"It is." I chuckle while my fingers make it to his hair. "Just for you."
He groans, leaving my neck, and straightens up. We stare at each other for a little too long, until Rose clears her throat.
"All right, love birds." Emmett clasps a hand on Edward's shoulder, breaking us from our spell. "Shall we?"
~~o~~
The beach is crowded for a Sunday night bonfire, and it looks like everyone is there. Jake and Leah are dancing on the wood boards. Seth is at the bar, chatting with the Alaskan girls, Tanya in particular, who seems to be loving the attention. Even Sue is here, in the middle of an intense domino match—it looks like she's kicking the butts of the men around her.
Edward and I sit by the bonfire, and at some point, he grabs the guitar. He plays "Belle" by Jack Johnson because he knows I love it and think it's funny. As the song ends, Edward sets the guitar down for someone else to grab and turns to look at me with a wide, accomplished smile. Then suddenly, his lips collide with mine and his hands cup my face. He's kissing me. In the middle of the bonfire. In front of everybody.
"I'm sorry," he says as he breaks the kiss, and I don't tell him it's okay—more than okay; I show him instead, pulling him to me for another kiss.
The rest of the night, Edward stays by my side, his fingers always finding a way to remain connected with me. And although he doesn't say much, he doesn't need to—his presence, his actions, say it all.
He's with me. He's mine. And I am his. And I don't know how I could possibly leave him.
We have a few drinks and that melancholy feeling hits again as we hang out by the bar. I sit on a stool while Edward stands next to me, and I look at the people around us, the friends I've made in my short time here.
Jacob is standing next to me, lost in conversation with the Alaskan girls, sharing their passion to save the oceans, while Seth and Leah bicker about another surfing competition. On the dance floor, Rose and Emmett show off their newly acquired moves. And right across from it, Sue stares at Edward and me, the happiest proud mama grin on her face.
"You okay?" Edward asks softly next to me, his fingers pushing my hair back behind my shoulder before they run over my neck.
Before I can answer, Tanya turns to me, sipping from her drink. "So, Bella, night patrol tomorrow?"
"Hmm, I don't know." I feel Edward's fingers run down my arm and link with my hand, tightening around mine.
"You haven't been to one yet," she says, her tone a bit judgy. "Don't you guys leave in two weeks? Will you not make it to even one?"
"We do have an empty spot in the Jeep tomorrow night," Jake chips in, but as he looks over my shoulder, to Edward I presume, his expression changes and he backtracks. "I mean, if you want, of course. No pressure."
"I-I'll think about it," I say, and it seems to be enough, as they both smile and continue to talk amongst themselves.
I turn to Edward, who is now tense beside me. "Hey…" My hand reaches for his arm, and I rub my fingers down the length of it, trying to peel the tension off his body. It works a little, and when he turns to look at me, he gives me a small smile.
"It's still my birthday," I whisper, inching closer to him. "Can I ask for one thing?"
"Anything," he replies earnestly.
"Dance with me?"
His face softens as he exhales; his eyes dart to the dance floor with hesitancy, but then he nods, pulling at my hand. His brow furrows when I pull him back.
"You'd do that for me?" I smile widely at him, while my heart soars in my chest.
"Of course," he says sweetly, coming closer. "I'd embarrass myself in front of all these people for you."
"I didn't say we had to dance here." I pull him between my legs; with the added height of the stool, he easily drops his face on my shoulder.
"Hmm?" He nuzzles his nose into my neck as my fingers get lost in his hair.
"Want to get out of here?"
"Fuck yes." He groans under my jaw.
~~o~~
The music plays softly from the van's speakers. One of his fifties classics. His choice.
I stand on the gravel next to his van, the area illuminated by the faint glimmer of the light bulbs that hang over the van's sliding door, my dress flowing in the night breeze.
He walks slowly to me, a small grin lighting up his features, before he pulls me by my waist. His other hand intertwines with mine as he lifts our arms to the side.
"I don't know what the fuck I'm doing," he says under his breath, our gaze locked.
"Me neither," I say, and I don't just mean the dancing.
He swallows loudly before he starts moving. At first it's awkward, and I giggle into his chest, but he doesn't give up.
He spins me. We laugh. Then he wraps his arms around my neck, enveloping me completely and hugging me to him.
We sway side to side, my cheek pressed on his chest, his chin on the top of my head.
My thoughts get lost in the lyrics of the song, on the man with his arms around me, on everything we haven't said to each other yet.
By the time the song is over, my eyes are full of tears.
He stops when I sniffle, loudly, in the silence between songs.
"Bella..." His face shows nothing but concern as his gaze drops to me. His eyes are glassy, like he was fighting tears too, and that just makes me tear up harder. His eyebrows knit together and his hands cup my face, as if he wants his thumbs to stop my tears.
"Can we go inside?" My words come out in a choked sob and he immediately nods, holding my hand.
The music stops abruptly as he turns the radio off as we step inside.
I wipe my tears and sit on the bed while he stands in front of me. The air feels stilted, almost claustrophobic. I fidget with my fingers and he with his hair.
I don't know where to start. I don't know what to do.
"Come here." I gesture to the bed and he complies immediately, closing the distance in two steps and dropping over me. His arms flank my legs, his hands braced on the mattress, while his forehead touches mine.
My fingers cling to his face, scrubbing over the stubble on his jaw, desperate for him, for more of him. "Kiss me." My voice is barely a whisper, my throat feeling closed off.
"Are you okay though?" He sounds worried.
"Yes. Please," I beg.
I don't have to ask him twice. His lips are on mine in the next second while my hands work to rid him of his shirt. He's holding himself back though; I know this because his hands stay clasped on the mattress. So I reach for his shorts, and as I undo the first button, he lifts his head from my neck and stares right at me, his eyes questioning.
"I want to make you feel good," I explain. "I want us to feel good."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." I pull him back to me, and I can almost hear his restraint dissolve.
"This fucking dress has been driving me crazy all night." Suddenly, his hands roam over my body until they end at my thighs, slipping under my dress and digging into my skin. He breathes into my neck, pulling my underwear off. "I'll make you feel good," he promises in my ear before his lips trail down my jaw, my neck, my shoulders. He plants kisses on my body until his face is between my legs and my back drops on the mattress.
His hands fist my dress, crumpled at my hips, while his lips and his tongue make good on his promise. Pretty soon, I'm screaming his name; I'm seeing stars; I'm begging for more.
He is inside of me next, with my name falling from his lips. Our grunts and moans fill the van and drown out my thoughts, until there's nothing else in my mind, nothing but how good he feels inside of me.
I cry his name. I cry.
He reaches for a towel to clean us up, gets his trunks back on, and drops next to me with a huff, snaking his arm under my neck and pulling me to him. We stay side by side, collecting our breathing and our thoughts.
When he turns his face to me, he frowns. "Bella, what's wrong?"
"I—" I am so overwhelmed with my feelings for him that no words seem like enough. "These past couple months have been a dream, Edward. A wild one. I've never met anyone like you. You're so thoughtful and kind. You're such a decent human being. And I—" My voice breaks.
"Bella…" His hand catches tears on my cheek.
"You're also very handsome."
He laughs loudly, as if I took him by surprise, and playfully pushes my face away, only to then wrap his fingers around the nape of my neck and bring me back to his chest.
I stay there, cheek to bare skin, listening to his heart beat while his fingers thread in my hair. And every second that passes, every breath, every heartbeat, every caress, brings more tears to my eyes.
Because my impending departure looms over us like an expiration date. Like that random day of the milk's shelf life when it goes from perfectly drinkable to curdled. Or the printed number on a document that turns it from valid to useless overnight.
Our time is running out.
"I know we said we'd just go with it. See where it goes. But…" My words make his fingers still in my hair, like he knows what's coming, and his chest tightens under me. "I don't want to leave you. I don't want to leave."
"Bella, you have to." His voice is soft, and when I look up at him, he smiles sweetly at me, which feels like a punch to my gut. "You have so much ahead of you. Your degree. Your career. It's going to be great."
"Do you really think that?" I prop myself up on my elbow and wipe the tears from my eyes.
"I know it." His hand reaches for my face and he rubs his thumb on my cheek. "You're going to do great things with your life."
"Would you come home with me then?" The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. I don't care if I sound desperate...or mentally unstable, for asking someone I've known for three months to basically uproot his life and follow me to mine.
His face contorts into a frown, and his hand drops from my face to run over his.
"I'm sorry," I blurt out. "I know it hasn't been long and you might not be on the same page, but—"
"It's not that," he starts, but his hand doesn't leave his face. "You have no idea what the past few months have meant to me."
"I just… I feel we could be really great together, and me leaving and you staying here… how is that going to work?"
"I don't know." He scrubs a hand down to his jaw, staring at the ceiling.
"So, that's it then?" I sit up on the bed, hugging my arms to myself, while I sniff my tears away.
"Bella, don't do this." Now both hands cover his face, muffling his words.
"I'll leave, and you'll stay here, and we'll never see each other again?" The mere thought hurts just saying the words.
"I..." he starts, but then he sighs in resignation. "I don't know."
"So come with me," I say again, my voice low.
"Bella, I can't."
"Why not? Will you come visit me at least?" My words float in the space between us, but he says nothing. His silence speaks louder than words though, and anger takes over my emotions.
"Why can't you leave? What are you staying here for?"
"Bella…"
"You won't open up to me. You keep that part of you hidden, buried, and I respect that, but…You can't hide out here forever." I pull at his arm, trying to peel his hands from his face. When I succeed, he just stares at the ceiling, avoiding my eyes.
"You miss your family, Edward. I can tell. I know you're hurting, but I'm sure they miss you too. Why won't you go home? What's holding you here?" I regret my words as soon as they leave my mouth, or rather once he turns his face to me and I see what they do to him—how his face crumples and his eyes go hollow.
"Don't go there, please." He pulls completely away from me, leaving the bed.
"If you won't leave, then ask me to stay."
He turns to look at me, his eyes full of guilt. "I can't do that to you. I won't."
"I could stay," I say, even though it's desperate, scooting to the foot of the bed. "I could take a leave from school. Get a job at the reservation. I don't know…" I palm my forehead, wondering if I sound crazy, as tears spill down my face. "I could. I could postpone things. Maybe we can find someone to help you, someone you can talk to. Until you're ready…to go back home with me?"
"Bella, no." His tone is final, icy, as he paces in the tiny space inside his van. "You will not postpone your life for me. I will not let you do that."
"Let me?" My hardened tone makes him stop in his tracks and turn to look at me.
"I don't want you to stay." His eyebrows knit together as he stares down at me, nose flaring with a breath.
"You don't want me?" When I can't hold his gaze anymore, I look down at my hands, at my new bracelet, twisting the turtle between my fingers, realizing it wasn't a birthday present at all—it was a goodbye gift.
What comes from my mouth next is a mixture between a laugh and a sob. God, I am pathetic. "Okay. Well, that changes things."
"I didn't mean it like that, Bella. And you know it. But it doesn't matter. You can't stay here. Not for me." He hesitates in front of me, hand reaching for my shoulder, before he drops it.
"You really had me fooled." I sniffle and get off from the bed. "I guess I am an idiot. I really thought I meant something more to you."
I try to squeeze past him, but he holds my elbow, keeping me in place. "Bella, you do. You fucking do. If this was another life... If I was a different man..."
"Or maybe if you shared that burden with someone," I counter. "If you didn't bury your emotions and actually tried to work through stuff. If you let yourself feel—"
"Believe me," he seethes, his fingers tightening around my elbow. "I feel it all. And it's obliterating."
"Can you at least try—"
"Bella, I told you this was a bad idea." His tone reminds me of the Edward I met the first night at the bar. He's shutting me out. He lets go of my elbow and fists his hair, pacing in front of me. "I never said I was good for you. In fact, quite the opposite. I warned you—"
"Don't do that to me. Don't make it sound like this was all me."
"It wasn't. But—"
"Then why were we together all this time?" I push. "Why did you let that happen? Why did you string me along?"
"I tried, okay?" His voice raises. His eyes wide. "I tried to stop it. I tried to hold back. But I was selfish. I wanted you. So bad. I wanted to let myself have at least one thing. One thing that wasn't tainted. One thing that wasn't haunted. One thing that didn't fucking hurt all the time."
He stops in front of me, chest heaving, and a sob leaves my lips when I look up at the devastation in his eyes. He turns away from me, clasping his hands on each side of the sink, and his head drops between his shoulders with a groan.
"So, was that your plan all along? We'll break up or whatever when I leave?"
"I didn't have a plan," he says without looking at me. He sounds exhausted. "I thought we would just see what happened."
"But you knew I was leaving."
"Exactly."
I hear what he's not saying, that the only reason he got with me is because I was leaving, because it would be temporary. And then he could go back to being a ghost.
"So there never was a 'let's see what happens' for you. It was always meant to end for you."
"I mean. Yes?" He turns to me with dark eyes. "What was I supposed to think, Bella? You were only going to be here for three months. What did you expect? I didn't think we needed to have that conversation. I thought we were on the same page."
"Well, clearly we are not." I move to the door but he clasps a hand around my arm again. "Let me go." I jerk my elbow away until he releases it.
"Bella—"
"No, why wait two weeks? Why not end it now?" I wipe my tears from my eyes in indignation and embarrassment, regretting looking at him. His face is a mixture of anger and agony, with unshed tears threatening to fall from his eyes.
"That's not what I want." His words come out through his teeth, his jaw clenched.
"Well. I'm sorry, but this hurts too much, Edward. Better pull the Band-Aid off all at once." I don't look at him as I turn around.
"Stay with me tonight," he begs behind me. "Please."
"Will you change your mind?" I ask with one foot out the door, peeking at him. "Will you come with me? Or let me stay with you?"
He thinks about it for a second, before his head drops in resignation. "No."
"Then I can't stay." My voice sounds as raw as my heart feels.
With shaky legs, I make it down the rocks from his hill onto the sand. I hear him calling behind me, but I don't turn around.
For the first time in the almost three months I've been here, I'm running away from him instead of toward him, with my heart in pieces and my face streaming with tears.
The sooner these two weeks pass and I go home, the better.
Fuck my birthday.
~~o~~
Expecting (Bella? Edward? Ronnie?) hate in 3, 2, 1... *hides*