Welcome to our first Bella POV! Next chapter will be hers, too!

Love, love, love to Hadley and the ladies who help me! Mistakes are mine, though.

Who's seeing The Batman this weekend? I'm going on Sunday. Soooo stoked!

17

Bella POV

I'm wheeling a metal cart down the aisle of dryers when Paul walks into the laundromat.

We usually do our laundry together on Tuesdays, but I left without him today because I'm still annoyed by the shit he pulled at the river.

He doesn't say anything as he walks past me toward the washers, his mesh laundry bag in hand.

His brooding is a little dramatic, but I don't mind because I didn't want to talk to him, anyway.

I open the dryer and fill the cart with my warm, clean clothes then wheel it over to a table in the corner to start folding next to Doreen. She's an older woman I just met tonight, and she keeps chatting with me. She's sweet though. She tells me all about her cats and her grandkids, and she shows me pictures of them. I smile warmly, appreciating the company.

"Are you seriously going to ignore me?" Paul asks, standing near me.

"I'm not," I tell him. "I'm not going out of my way to be overly friendly to you right now, but I'm not ignoring you."

Doreen doesn't look up, but I'm sure she's listening as she folds her towels.

Paul scoffs. I fold my T-shirts into a neat little pile and carefully place them in the bag I brought with me, the hum of machines all around us.

"So, can I ride home with you this weekend or what?" Paul asks. "You didn't reply to my text."

"I'm not going home this weekend," I tell him then turn to Doreen. "It was so good to meet you. I hope your cat gets better. And next time you're here, I definitely want to see pictures of your grandson's first birthday."

"Thanks, hun." She smiles, her graying bun loose. "Good luck meeting your boyfriend's parents—I bet they're just gonna love you."

I beam, really hoping so. "Thanks."

With my bag of clothes in my hand, I walk toward the front of the laundromat to sit and wait for my load of whites to finish washing.

Paul follows, sitting in the seat next to me, the leather of the cushion ripped.

"You're not going to the beer festival this weekend?" he asks skeptically.

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm meeting Edward's parents for the first time."

He whistles and sits back, skinny legs stretched out in front of him. "That's great and all, but your family is gonna flip if you don't go."

"No, they're not. I already talked to them, and they're cool with me skipping the festival this year."

"But the brewers who use your parents' hops always win 'best beer.'"

"Exactly. So, I'm not really missing out on anything."

He kicks at the black-and-white checkered tile with his sneaker, the sole of his shoe squeaking. "The festival only happens once a year."

I shrug. "Exactly," I say again. "I can go next year."

Silence.

"But my band isn't playing the festival next year."

"Sorry, dude." I'm not really that sorry. "I already told Edward I'd go wine tasting with him and his parents Saturday."

Edward was really sweet when he brought up meeting his parents. He seemed a little nervous, like he thought I'd find it weird he already told his parents about me.

But it didn't freak me out. It made me feel wanted and adored and… loved. It made me feel like we're on the same page about our relationship.

Even though neither of us was looking for something serious, serious found us anyway. I love that neither of us could fight it. He drew me in from the first moment I laid eyes on him. Rugged, respectful, reserved. There was something about him that I couldn't shake off.

The timer on my phone goes off, so I wheel the metal cart over to my washer, filling the basket with my damp clothes. I find an empty dryer and shove my garments into the drum of the machine, sticking quarters into the coin slot to turn it on.

When I get back to my seat, Paul is watching me.

"What?" I ask, giving him an irritated look.

"I feel like you're still mad at me over the stupid river thing."

I glare harder. "The fact that you refer to it as 'the stupid river thing' just pisses me off even more."

He huffs. "I said sorry. To you and Edward. I fucking groveled."

"I know." In all honesty, he was sincere about it. I just don't forgive so easily when I've been wronged.

"I was really drunk and just being stupid."

"Yeah, I know," I say again.

He sinks lower in his seat. "It's not like Edward broke up with you over it, so what's the big deal?"

I narrow my eyes. "That's not the point. You were a massive asshole, and what you did was shady. You airing that publicly made me feel like shit. In front of my boyfriend, no less."

"He wasn't your boyfriend then."

"That's not the point!" I say, frustrated, shoving his shoulder. "You're supposed to be my friend, you dick. Don't try to humiliate me or piss off my man."

"Okay, okay, okay. I'm sorry! I am. Fuck," he mutters, crossing his arms. "You're supposed to be my friend, too, and you keep bailing on shit for Edward."

"No, I don't."

He laughs humorlessly. "Well, clearly you're starting to."

"Who gives a shit?" I ask rhetorically. "I love spending time with him." It's never been like this for me with anyone. He's the most serious relationship I've ever had, and my feelings for him are so fucking deep. I don't see the problem in wanting to prioritize him.

"You should give a shit. You're turning into one of those typical girls who flake on her family and friends to spend all their time with a guy who likely isn't gonna stick around."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"The dude clearly isn't good at keeping relationships if he's divorced."

I don't care that Edward's divorced. His failed marriage is certainly not a reflection on him. He's not the one who cheated. His ex-wife did, and even if I don't know the entire story yet, there's never an excuse to cheat.

I roll my eyes at Paul. "You think I'm gonna take relationship advice from you? You ghost every girl you sleep with," I fire back. He starts to open his mouth, but I interrupt him. "No, screw you. I'm not gonna listen to this shit." I move down the row, so there are five empty chairs between us now.

"Don't be mad because I'm just looking out for you," I hear him say, but I ignore his so-called concern. He keeps going. "You know I'm weird about new people joining the group."

I stare at the burned-out fluorescent above us. "Then why aren't you weird about Jasper hanging around?"

"Because I haven't known Allie since I was thirteen. She didn't grow up with us."

"That's a lame excuse, and you fucking know it."

I hate that he's being like this. Things weren't weird until I started seriously dating Edward. But I don't get the vibe it's because Paul wants me. It's not like he struts around the duplex and makes moves on me 24/7. Or ever, actually. If that were the case, I wouldn't put up with that shit. I honestly think he's just lonely. Sad. I think he feels left out because he's never had what I have with Edward.

"I'm going to be very honest with you," I say, turning to him. "I'm thinking about not renewing our lease when it's up in the spring."

"What the fuck? Bella, c'mon." He's sitting right next to me now. "I said I was sorry! Now you're moving out?"

"Not until our lease is up. I just feel like we're too codependent. It'd be good to get some space."

"See? You're already picking him over me, even though I've known you for longer."

"It doesn't matter how long I've known you, Paul. I'll always pick Edward. He's like… my fucking person."

"Yeah… but are you his?"

I shift away so I don't have to see him. "Fuck you."

"It's a serious question, Bella. I'm just worried!"

"Go away."

"No."

"Seriously, leave me alone, or I'm gonna pour bleach in your load of darks." It's irrational, and I wouldn't really. But I wish I could.

A beat passes.

He starts laughing. Not humorlessly or bitterly. He actually thinks it's funny.

Then, when I imagine it—him walking around wearing splotchy, bleached clothes—it kinda makes me laugh, too.

I turn to him. "Stop being a dick."

"Fine."

"I really like Edward, and I'm sorry if you think I'm bailing on our friendship, but… deal with it. It's not always gonna be the same. I wouldn't expect you to hang out with me all the time if you had a girlfriend. Which you'll never get, by the way, if you keep being a dick."

He glowers. "Fine."

"And don't say shit to me about Edward not sticking around. He's a good man, and that's not cool of you."

"Anything else, your majesty?" he asks sarcastically.

I crack a smile. "I hate you."

He ruffles my hair, and I pull away, annoyed. "Hate you, too, Swan."

=.=.=

On my way to work the next day, I pass by the construction site. It's raining, so the entire area is muddy, with puddles everywhere.

Like always, Edward is lingering, waiting for me.

I smile when I see him, and I love the grin that takes over his face when he sees me too. I'm huddled under an umbrella, but he's soaked, droplets of water falling from his hair and hard hat.

"Oh, no. You're all wet," I comment, not hating the sight but cringing at the idea of wearing wet clothes.

He's standing close to the fence. "Yeah. Just started dumping on us, so we gotta close the site for the day. Can't really do much when it's raining like this and definitely can't lay bricks."

"Makes sense. What are you gonna do with your sudden day off?" I ask, curious.

"I dunno. I leave early on Wednesdays, anyway, to pick up Riley, so I'll probably just sleep for a little bit before I go get her."

"Sleepy old man," I tease.

Rain pelts against his clothes and face. "Always." His eyes crinkle around the edges when he smiles.

"I wish I could cancel all of my clients and spend a rainy afternoon with you in bed…"

He licks his lips, staring at my mouth. "I wish you could, too."

I sigh. The idea is torture because I know it can't happen. "I should go."

"Me too. Gotta finish putting shit away, so I can get the hell outta here."

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

"I hope so." He grins. "Still on for wine tasting on Saturday with my folks?"

He says it like I maybe forgot or changed my mind, but it's all I'm thinking about.

"Mmhmm. I'm really looking forward to it."

"So am I. My parents, too. Ever since I told my mom what your parents do, though, she's worried you'd rather go to a brewery than a winery." He chuckles. "I told her you drink wine, too, but yeah… just hope the weather isn't gonna be shit like it is today."

I smile. His parents sound really sweet, but it makes sense because their son is… amazing.

"I'll never turn down wine tasting," I say, instead of gushing over how crazy I am about him.

"And you're sure you don't wanna go to the beer festival this weekend?" he asks for what feels like the hundredth time since I told him I was canceling my weekend home to meet his parents.

"I'm sure," I promise. "Meeting your family is important to me, and even though I can meet them anytime, I'm super fucking eager, okay? So, trust me when I say yes. I'm sure about skipping out on the beer festival."

"Okay." His smirk is soft and sweet. "I'm gonna miss you tonight."

"Me too," I admit, wishing we could kiss through the fence. "You want my umbrella since I don't really need it anymore? I can just run across the street."

His laugh is deep and sexy. "I'm good. These guys would give me so much shit if I pranced around here with an umbrella."

"I'd fight those fuckers if they did," I joke.

Another heart-stopping grin. "I know you would. Save your energy, and keep your umbrella. I don't mind getting a little wet."

"Okay, okay." I'm stalling because I hate saying goodbye. "Have fun with your girl tonight. Call me after she goes to bed."

"I will."

His smile is soft, and he starts walking backward, keeping his eyes on me as I cross the road.

I close my umbrella once I'm under the awning of the building, shake it out a little, then wave to Edward before heading inside the salon.

He always waits for one last wave. And that sweet gesture makes my stomach flutter with affection.

Rose is behind the counter when I walk in.

"So gross out there today," I complain.

She pulls her eyes away from the computer. "I know. Glad we work inside."

"Do I have any cancellations?"

"Not yet. We had a last-minute appointment added to your schedule today, around three. Just a haircut, nothing special. But she's a new client and hasn't been to the salon before. Hopefully, she'll become one of your regulars."

"That'd be cool." I move behind the counter and look over Rose's shoulder at the screen. "Ugh." I groan when I see who my first appointment is with.

"What?"

"I don't care for my first client," I whisper. "Stacy James. She always has me do outrageous hairstyles that I know will be too much for her, and after I do exactly what she says, she fucking complains."

"Maybe gently nudge her in a different direction?"

"Oh, I try! I freaking try. But she always insists she knows what she wants." I sigh, already working myself up. "Maybe I need to start charging her extra for the emotional toll she puts on me."

Rose offers a sympathetic smile. "Go grab a doughnut from the break room. It'll cheer you up."

I do perk up a bit. "You brought doughnuts?"

"I was feeling generous today. Also, I had a little extra time since I didn't have to do my hair, thanks to the rain."

"Aw. Thanks, rain," I say, a little sarcastic but kind of serious.

Rose laughs. "Shush. Go."

Luckily, I get through the first part of my day with ease. Stacy doesn't ask for anything outrageous, and I have zero cancellations so far. When three o'clock hits and my new client, Vera Black, shows up, I walk to the front of the salon. She's the only customer waiting near the shelf of products, so I assume it's her.

"Hi! Are you Vera?" I ask, smiling.

She turns around, a bottle of conditioner in her hand. "Hi. Yes. I'm Vera," she says, seemingly a little flustered.

"I'm Bella. I'll be cutting your hair today." She stares at me for a second then nods. "Wanna follow me? We can talk about what you want before I shampoo you."

"Sure, yeah. Yes." She goes to put the bottle back on the shelf but ends up knocking a few others over, conditioner and hair serums falling to the floor. "Shit, sorry."

I laugh politely. "It's all good." I help her pick them up. "I knock this stuff over all the time."

When the products are back on the shelf, she wordlessly follows me through the salon until she's sitting in my chair.

"So, what are you thinking?" I ask, removing the elastic band and letting her blond hair hang down her back.

"Um… I don't really know…"

"Well…" I lift a few pieces of her hair, moving some of it in front of her shoulders. "I could just do a little trim. Cut off the dead ends, maybe add a few face-framing pieces. And then next time you come back, maybe we can keep it long, but add some shorter bangs?"

When I glance in the mirror, she's looking at me.

"Sure," she agrees. "Whatever you think."

I smile. "I totally think you have the face shape for some bangs, like if they ended here," I say, pointing just below her eyebrow. "I could do that for you today. But not everyone is ready for bangs. I usually have to ease clients into it, but I think they'd look great on you."

She's still staring.

I clear my throat.

"I'll just shape it up for you today, how's that?" I finally decide when she hasn't responded.

Her gaze drops. "Yeah, I like that idea."

"Great!" I clap my hands together. "Let's get you shampooed."

We walk to where the sinks are, and she sits down, leaning her head back into the bowl.

I turn on the water and start washing her hair, thankful her eyes are closed. It's always a little awkward when clients stare right up at me.

"So, how'd you hear about us?"

Her eyes fly open. "What?"

I chuckle. "How'd you hear about the salon? I know this is your first time here."

"Oh. Um… Google. I just Googled it."

"Very cool." I rinse the shampoo from her hair and add conditioner, focusing mostly on her ends. "Vera's a pretty name," I muse.

"Thank you," she says softly. "It's my mom's."

"I love that."

She closes her eyes again, and I let the silence linger until she's sitting back in my chair. I drape the smock over her and spritz her hair.

"This is a heat protectant and leave-in conditioner," I tell her, the product misting out of the bottle before I comb out her hair. "So, I'll cut off about two inches. That good?" I move her wet hair in front of her shoulders again and use my comb to show her how much I'm taking off.

"Great, yes."

I start to cut the ends, straight across her back, using my fingers to guide me.

She's quiet as I work, but that's fine. Not every client wants to chitchat. Some are on their phones the entire time. Some just want to relax. The thing is, Vera doesn't seem all that relaxed.

"So, are you from Seattle?" I ask, making small talk, lifting pieces of her hair above her head, and snipping them.

"I'm originally from Texas. I moved here with my mom and dad when I was sixteen. He got a job working for Boeing," she replies after a beat.

"Oh, wow! My uncle works for Boeing, too. What does your dad do there?"

She doesn't answer right away. "He's… he passed away almost five years ago."

"Oh. God, I'm so sorry to hear that." I feel a little bad for having asked, but she gave no indication he was no longer around.

With a solemn nod, she drops the subject and asks, "What about you? Are you from Seattle?"

"I'm actually from Yakima. I moved here on my own when I was nineteen."

"How old are you?" she asks, kind of abruptly. "I mean, that's just so young to move here by yourself."

I laugh lightly. "Yeah, I guess so. It was good for me, though. And I just turned twenty-five last week."

She wishes me a happy belated birthday, and I thank her.

Edward and I celebrated my actual birthday with just the two of us. He bought me roses and made me dinner at his place, then surprised me with my favorite confetti cake from a bakery in Yakima. He wouldn't tell me how he did it, but I imagine since there's only one location, he paid a lot of money to have someone from the bakery personally deliver it.

I thought it spoke volumes that he remembered me mentioning it was the dessert my parents used to buy me on my birthday. The encounter was so brief that I had forgotten I'd told him about that at all.

We ate cake in his bed and shared a bottle of wine.

It was definitely one of my favorite birthdays.

Vera's quiet again, and I let it be. When I glance in the mirror, I realize her attention is on the photo tacked to my station wall.

It's of Edward and me, taken at Allie's parents' cabin a week and a half ago.

Vera catches my eye in the reflection. "Cute," she says quietly.

"He is," I say, barely containing my smile. "Kinda cheesy to put a picture of us up, I guess. But I just like to see it."

She clears her throat. "Where did you two meet?"

I groan, laughing. "At a bar. Which sounds so, so bad, but… it's been good. He's not one of those guys. One of those asshole players who just wants to hook up."

"No, he's not. Or he doesn't seem like it," she corrects. "From the way you're smiling…"

"Yeah. He's the best," I say, sighing softly. "I'm actually meeting his parents for the first time this weekend."

"So, it's pretty serious then," she mumbles.

I smile warmly. "It is."

After adding in some long layers, I move onto the front of her hair, making sure it's even.

"I can tell you have some natural texture in your hair. Do you ever let it air dry and wear it wavy?" I ask, getting out the blow dryer. "I bet it'd look nice."

"Sometimes," she says, then after a beat adds, "I like your hair."

"Oh! Thanks. I just had a friend lighten it up a bit. People tend to wanna go darker in the fall but that's when I like to add some caramel highlights."

"It's pretty."

"Thank you," I say again. "So, are you dating anyone?"

She laughs, but it feels humorless. "Nope. Divorced. Not dating. Sometimes I feel like I never will again."

I smile sympathetically. "I bet that's not true."

"Yeah."

"I'm sure it just takes time to get back out there," I say, feeling for her.

She doesn't reply, so I drop it and spend a few minutes drying her hair. When I'm done, I heat up the curling wand to add some soft waves.

"There is kind of someone," she says after a minute of silence.

I perk up, excited. "Oh?"

"Our kids are friends," she explains. "Nothing's happened between us, but he's kind of hinted at it. At least, I think he's hinted?"

"Are you into him?" I ask wrapping her blonde hair around the wand. I catch her smiling a little. "That's a yes," I answer for her. "Why not go for it?"

"I don't know. I mean, yeah, he's cute and really nice, but… sometimes I just don't think I deserve that."

I click my tongue at her nonsense. "Don't deserve what? Cute and nice?"

"Happiness."

"Come on," I say lightly. "You can't think that way!"

With a shrug, she says, "For a while, I thought my ex and I were gonna get back together."

My heart stings a little for her. "Oh, no. Really?"

"Some stuff happened between us, and I was… yeah. Pretty sure it was heading that way. But that's not happening now. He made it pretty clear. I fucked it up too bad, and it just kinda… hurts. He's a hard man to get over."

"How long were you married?"

"A while."

"I'm sure it's hard," I murmur.

"It is," she agrees softly.

When I'm finished curling her hair, I mist texture spray all over then run a hand through her waves, breaking them up a bit.

"So, what do you think?"

She looks at herself in the mirror, brushing a hand over her new locks.

"I can't remember the last time my hair was actually styled," she says with a faint laugh. "I love it."

I beam. "I'm so glad."

I remove the smock from around her neck, but she stays in the chair, still staring at herself.

"Well, thanks for coming in," I tell her kindly. "Hope to see you again soon."

This snaps her out of her trance, and her face falls for a second, but she recovers quickly.

With a polite nod, she thanks me and stands, mumbling that she's sure she'll see me soon.