A/N for 2019-02-23: A reader recently commented with concerns that I wouldn't wrap up all my plot points. Don't worry, I will. The plot for this story is outlined in a stupidly-detailed timeline / plot-point document, Including a pregnancy timeline for Bella (she's Due November 18, BTW). The same reader was also concerned that the story had "gotten away" from me, words-wise. Nope. The length and character-centred development of this story are intentional on my part.
Editing: I would be remiss in not thanking Eeyorefan12 for her work. Each of the chapters for this story goes through at least four rounds of editing from her alone, and then a final proofread from her once the chapter is live (where ultimately, a few errors are found). If I was paying her for her services, I would be in debt. She's amazing . . . and she does this for free.
So, in a related note, we'd like to ask that any grammar corrections NOT be sent by review. I check my PM's regularly. Feel free to reach out that way.
Enough editorializing from me. Happy reading!
~ Erin
"You want to wear blue," Alice said again, looking at Bella, who was holding the long blue dress up to her chest.
"Well, it is a lovely shade on you," Esme said diplomatically, putting a cautionary hand on Alice's arm.
Rosalie's tone was flat. "That's not a wedding dress, but if you want to look like you're going to a cotillion—"
"Rose!" Esme said.
Rosalie only shrugged.
Bella looked down at her stomach, nearly seven-months round and protruding like a small bowling ball from her midsection. "I don't exactly qualify for white."
Both Alice and Rosalie opened their mouths to speak, but Esme held up a silencing finger. Gently, she pulled Bella away towards the small sitting room nestled in the corner of the bridal boutique. "I think we'll take you up on that offer of tea," Esme murmured softly to the shop attendant, who scurried away. The woman had been nervous since Bella and the Cullen women had walked into the store.
After she helped Bella to a chair, Esme pulled an ottomona up for her feet. Bella chuckled, but put her feet up.
"Thank you," she said to Esme.
The bridal shop was a large one, sprawling through several of the quaint storefronts in the oldest part of the city. Alice had assured Bella the store would have a wide range of maternity bridal wear, at which Bella had raised a dubious eyebrow. So far, though, her expectations had been pleasantly disrupted. She hadn't had to buy anything so specialized for her first wedding, opting for a very plain dress when she and Matt had married before a justice of the peace. She hadn't been showing then. Now, she thought wearing anything light-coloured would only emphasize the blimplike effect her body was producing.
"Esme, you are not going to try to convince me that I in any way qualify for white—"
"No, I'm not."
"Well, good." Bella went to stand again, stopping when Esme's cool hand laid itself over top her own.
"I'm not going to try to convince you of that, but I am going to ask you what you think Edward would like."
A guilty squirm lodged itself in her belly. Yes, she could imagine what he would dream of—but she amended the thought quickly; his dreams would never have included marrying a woman unmistakably pregnant with another man's child.
Bella looked down at her belly again, and then at Esme.
"That is not what I was talking about," Esme said, "and you know that. He's delighted to be a father."
"No, I was more thinking about his dream wedding not including marrying the Halloween pumpkin."
"He's marrying you. This is his dream wedding," Esme said gently.
The pregnancy-induced tears chose this as their moment to appear again—for the second time that morning. The first had been when they walked into the bridal shop.
"Oh for crud's sake," Bella muttered, looking for a tissue in her purse. Esme held one out to her. "Thanks," Bella snuffled.
"He loves you so much, Bella."
"I know."
"He's as happy as I've ever seen him. He's so excited to marry you. You would not believe the lengths to which he is going, thinking about what you would like him to wear, how to make this perfect for you. The conversation he and Carlisle had about cuff-links the other day . . ." She rolled her eyes.
Bella laughed, trying to imagine Carlisle being so occupied with accessories, and Esme smiled.
"Why don't you try on a few dresses? If you're still dead-set against . . . lighter shades, then broaden the colour spectrum a bit."
Looking out at the racks of dresses, Bella sighed a little. She would look like a blimp. A complete and total blimp. She stopped herself abruptly, reminding herself of how much appreciation Edward had shown for what her changing shape meant. Her vanity, already a shy creature, scurried away, banished by thoughts of Edward.
"Okay," she said.
Another half-hour of dresses later, Bella was exhausted and beginning to feel a little disheartened, when Alice said, "Oh—oh!", clapping her hands together.
"What?" Bella, Rose and Esme asked in unison.
"You'll see," Alice said, smiling while looking at her phone.
The shop attendant eyed Alice with curiosity, but then went back to the racks where the maternity dresses were kept, huffing a little under the weight of the several she carried back to Bella.
Bella didn't even look at the new dress she was handed, putting it on mechanically with Rose's help, and then lifting her gaze towards the bank of mirrors in front of her, mentally prepared for another reject.
The sight that greeted her made her gasp.
The simple silk dress was cut with a flattering cowl neck and cap sleeves. The rich ivory warmed the pink in her cheeks and the auburn in her hair.
"Wow." It was all Bella could think.
"I'll say," Esme agreed.
"Perfect," Alice sighed.
"Definitely not a pumpkin," Rose added, nodding and winking at Bella in the mirror.
"Shall I put that on the possibles rack?" the attendant asked, eyeing the empty space to Bella's right.
"Nope, you can put it in a bag. I'm done," Bella said.
There were several exclamations at this from the Cullen women—and the bridal attendant, mostly about accessories.
"Surprise me," Bella said, taking off the dress, and reaching gratefully for her own clothes.
Rose and Alice looked like they wanted to argue some more, but Esme silenced them with a look. "I'm sure Alice and Rose would be delighted to choose those things," she announced.
Her own clothes on, Bella pulled out her phone, texting Edward to ask how his own clothing expedition was going. He'd taken Josh with him to look at suits. Bella had kept the nature of the day's errand from Meredith, not wanting her to see the dress before the day and knowing she wouldn't have the practiced discipline of the other family members not to think of it around Edward. The one thing she wanted for the wedding was for the dress to at least be a surprise for Edward. Emmett had volunteered to take Meredith off to visit a friend for a playdate. When they'd left, Meredith was playing dress up with Emmett, who had donned a rhinestone tiara with good humour.
Bella had thought Edward exceptionally brave, taking Josh suit-shopping, but he'd assured her they would take breaks, and that he had Jasper's gifts to put to work if things really fell apart.
Just as she hit 'send', her phone rang—it was Renėe. Taking a fortifying breath, she picked up the call. "Hey Mom, I'm out with Edward's mom and sisters. Just found the dress." There were excited squeals and exclamations on the other end of the line, which devolved into what had become Renėe's regular expressions of guilt. She and Phil weren't coming to the wedding. While it had been something of a relief for Bella, Renėe couldn't seem to miss bringing it up every time they spoke. With Phil's promotion to assistant, he simply couldn't take the time, and Bella had suggested that she and Edward could come visit them after the baby was born. She'd kept the timing of the trip deliberately vague, mostly because of Edward's concerns around her health, but also because they needed to visit when they could be sure of cooperative weather.
"Mom, we've been through this before," Bella finally interjected when Renee stopped to take a breath. "It's probably better this way. Charlie's the only guest, and it's going to be an exceptionally low-key affair—I'm going to feel like we need to do more if more people come." She listened to more of Renėe's ramblings, and then distracted her with a description of the dress, before winding things up with, "Okay, the girls want to go for lunch. I gotta run. Talk to you soon?" Alice and Rosalie were still deep in conversation over something small at the counter, but the excuse worked, and Bella hung up.
"We'll send her lots of pictures and video," Esme said, coming to sit by her.
"I know," Bella said. Still, she didn't feel badly at all. Renėe hadn't been a real part of her life for a very long time, and she had no desire to renew their frayed relationship. Esme was well aware of the state of things, but Bella suspected that Esme's maternal urgings had more to do with her desire to share the day than Bella's feelings.
"Have you had any success convincing your dad to fly up?" Esme asked.
"Yes, didn't Edward tell you what the clincher was?"
"No," Esme said, frowning.
"He, Charlie, Josh and Emmett are going fishing."
Esme put a hand to her mouth, laughing. Bella wondered if she was more amused by the thought of Edward's abhorrence of the smell of fish or of Emmett having to be quiet for an extended period but both were sacrifices. "Oh, well, bless their hearts. That is love, isn't it?" she finally said. "Patience and kindness."
"They'll need both to fish with my Dad," Bella grumbled. Her father was a reasonable man, but not when it came to anyone messing with his fishing. At least Edward and possibly even his brother wouldn't have trouble sitting still, unlike Bella had when she was little. And Josh had already demonstrated his fascination with fishing on the day of the battle.
She was glad that Charlie was coming to the wedding. He'd been a veritable zombie since Sue's death, operating mechanically, moving through his daily life with a kind of feigned normalcy that had been painful to watch. She knew this hadn't changed much since they'd returned home to Vancouver, and worried often for him. If he had agreed to go fishing, though, that was something.
Esme smiled gently at Bella, punctuating this with an equally soft squeeze of her hand. But Bella's eyes were drawn back to Rose and Alice. Their posture was brittle, and they weren't looking at the accessories on the wide table before them. Alice was staring at her phone, and Rose was watching her sister. Even for its speed off of her lips, Bella knew the shape of Alice's otherwise silent, "I don't know."
"What's going on?" Bella asked. Her stomach took a nose-dive. In most cases, Alice knew everything.
From the look Alice gave, Bella knew it wasn't anything good. Coming closer, Alice said, "We've been summoned. We have a deadline."
And while it left her gut partly churning with guilt, Bella felt a pang of relief. It wasn't Victoria. Even though she'd seen the ashes and had no reason not to believe Alice's vision or what she and Jasper had found, doubt lingered in her like mould, ready to sprout and spread given the right conditions. "I'm so sorry," she said softly. "When?"
"All Souls Day," Alice said. "November first."
How poetic, Bella thought. Right after Halloween. She wondered if this was a vampire version of a joke.
"It'll be okay," Alice said, slightly misinterpreting whatever she saw in Bella's expression. "We have a plan to keep you safe."
"I know," Bella said. Yes, she knew that Edward and Alice had discussed this. The Volturi had already once allowed Bella's knowledge of their kind to go unpunished and she and the Cullens didn't want to test their luck on this front again. When Alice was read by Aro, she planned to make sure he would see that either Carlisle or Edward would change Bella once the baby was born—and that the children would live with their maternal grandfather, at least while their mother was a newborn. As the children and Charlie were innocent of the Cullens' nature, they were safe. Bella couldn't help but be dubious; this 'vision' was not the truth, after all, but Edward had assured her that Alice could manage it.
"I'm not worried about us, Alice," Bella said, lying only a little. "It's just—we're the reason you have to go. It doesn't seem fair.
"Some sacrifices are worth making, Bella," Alice said. She smiled at her. "But we'll see you married, and possibly meet your baby, too. It won't be forever."
But it could be, Bella knew. Alice's lie was a kind one. Bella smiled softly.
"I mean it, Bella," Alice said in a low voice. "I want to know it's worth it, us leaving. Live your life. Love my brother. Raise your children. It's worth it."
And because she couldn't quite speak over the lump in her throat, Bella nodded instead.
- 0 -
Later that night, when the children were in bed, Bella curled up against Edward, a stack of papers on her lap, trying her best to focus on the words in front of her. The news from the Volturi earlier had cast a slight pall over the rest of the day, but after Edward's private conversation with his sister, he had apparently acceded to her request not to focus on it for the time being. Bella knew that no one was giving up on finding a way out for Alice and Jasper but they were both adamant that talking about it should wait until after the wedding.
The student paper in her hand offered up the standard bland drivel, and Bella sighed with mild disappointment, making her comments, and then slipping it to the back of the pile. The next piece made her perk up a bit more. It was from Chelsea, who she'd been delighted to find was in her class again. Chelsea's writing was interesting, as was her topic. While her insights were fractured at times, at least they glued themselves back together by the end of her writing—
"Is that the same Chelsea I met?" Edward asked, peering over her shoulder.
"Uh-huh," she said, still reading.
Edward's lips brushed her neck as he hummed.
Bella groaned. "I will never get these done if you keep that up."
"That's okay. I can mark them for you."
Bella closed her eyes, leaning back into his touch. She was tired, and his hands were massaging her back and her hips, and then sliding around to the front of her thighs. "I am a terrible teacher, but I so want to let you mark these—except for this one." She turned to face him, sinking into his kiss.
The embrace and kisses continued, morphing and shifting as the papers slid to the floor.
"If you're really too tired to mark, do you think it might be time to consider taking leave?" Edward asked, when they finally parted so she could breathe.
This drew a much less pleasured moan from Bella. "No, it's too soon, and I'd be bored."
"I can keep you from being bored," he murmured, running his tongue over the seam of her lips as if requesting entrance.
"I still want to work," she half-gasped, as his hand slid between her legs.
But it wasn't work her mind was on as Edward's hand did other things. Before the night was over, he'd most pleasantly distracted her from all things work-related, letting her slip into an unusually deep and restful sleep.
- 0 -
Bella kept her eyes closed for as long as she could. It was childish, but she really didn't want to face today. This is stupid, she told herself, but it didn't make any difference.
She was aware that Edward's finger had begun to trace a lazy pattern over her arm. It was his way of telling her that he knew she was awake, and that he wouldn't bother her with words until she spoke first.
His fingers were moving faster than they usually did, and she wondered if he was impatient. Likely, she determined. While she had wanted to avoid the day, Edward had clearly not been of the same mind
Just get over yourself, she muttered silently, still fighting the urge to stuff a pillow over her head and wish the day away.
She had come to tolerate her birthday, but it held a special place in the cosmos of unfortunate events. After Edward had left, it took her several years before she'd even consider acknowledging, let alone celebrating it. Her children had been the final nudge, with Meredith frequently asking why she didn't want to have a party, presents, or even a cake. The cupcakes at Charlie's house the year before had been the first time in a decade Bella had actually enjoyed something resembling a birthday party in her honour.
She rolled over to face Edward. "I am a huge chicken," she finally announced by way of greeting.
"That's funny, you smell so much better than most chickens I've been around," Edward replied.
With a hand to support her wobbling abdomen, Bella laughed, a whole and fulsome sound.
When the movement subsided, Edward asked, "And why, may I ask, are you a chicken?"
"Oh, you know—today," Bella said, waving her hand around vaguely.
"Happy Birthday," he said.
She squeezed her eyes shut, almost recoiling at the words.
"I fully intend for this to be a good day." Edward continued.
"Mmm," she said, not trusting herself to utter words. She might as well cluck, for all the courage she had.
"A certain someone convinced me to make special breakfast for you for today. She might even be waiting with a crȇpe spatula downstairs, an apron, and a special little chef's hat. The other helper might still be similarly attired. Courtesy of Alice, of course."
Bella opened her eyes again. "Do I get to see you wearing a chef's hat? Just a chef's hat?"
He leaned in close, hovering over her, stunning her with both his scent and his nearness, "For your birthday, anything."
"Okay," she breathed out belatedly, feeling a little lightheaded at this prospect.
With a smart peck on her cheek, he was gone. She could hear excited squeals and giggles downstairs, along with the clank of pans.
So far so good, she told herself.
Pushing herself upright, she donned the rubber gloves that sat by the bedside, and picked up the thick compression stockings beside them. After bunching them up, she managed to wrestle them over her feet, smoothing them up her legs one sweaty, breathless inch at a time. Halfway up the second leg, she laid back down to take a break before getting them completely on. Edward had brought the stockings home and then had her in a fit of giggles, showing her how to don the heavy hosiery. He had made it look easy. She felt like a clown at a freak show each and every time. He'd offered to help her each morning, but the few times she'd taken him up on it, they'd been . . . well, distracted. And she'd almost been late for work.
Out of habit, Bella took her phone with her to the bathroom. Working as a substitute teacher, she had gotten used to keeping her phone on her in the mornings and evenings, when the callouts happened. Brushing her teeth, she scrolled through her email, deleting the spam and mentally prioritizing a few tasks. Her Dad had emailed her a card. She smiled, reading through its mushy sentiments. Charlie might look rough on the outside, but he was all marshmallow underneath.
Putting the phone down, she splashed some water on her face, having a good long look at her features in the mirror. Her face was a mature one, certainly, the adolescent puppy fat a few years gone now. Overall, the lines were sharper, cheek bones more defined; the suggestion of crows' feet had begun to spread from her eyes. She liked those. It meant she smiled, and that was good.
"Twenty-eight," she said to herself. Not so many years on the earth, but so much packed within them. Her right hand fingered the scar at her left wrist, running a thumb over the cool, raised flesh.
Abandoning this mark, she considered the many good things in her life, enumerating them.
Victoria's shadow no longer hung over them. Still, it was hard not to struggle with vague feelings of guilt and something else she couldn't quite identify. Good people had died because of her, even if it was through no fault of her own. And she had been worried and stressed for so long that it was difficult to believe that those particular struggles were over for them. There were so many new issues to think about, future plans to discuss. And she refused to even consider the question Edward had asked her only once and the eventual consequences of the response she had given him. The response she would still give him, even now, if she were being honest. No, today was not a day to conjure up concerns she had banished for the time being.
"Fricking birthday," she muttered to herself. How like her to start down the road to pointless worrying. "Not today," she promised the mirror, tapping it.
She was only in her underclothes when Edward reappeared, her robe in hand. "Can you handle getting dressed later?" he asked.
"Okay," she said, trying to hide her apprehension. What was waiting that couldn't last a few minutes before she was dressed? "Wait," she blurted out. "There isn't a surprise party waiting for me downstairs, is there?"
"Absolutely not," he said, chuckling. "Just your children —and breakfast. Which, right now, includes an unguarded jar of chocolate-hazelnut spread." He held out his arms as she finished tying her robe around her waist, lifting an inquiring eyebrow.
"If you can't stand waiting for me to walk downstairs—"
She didn't get a chance to finish the statement, dizzied by the speed at which the door to the kitchen appeared.
"Nope," Edward said, grinning broadly.
"Happy birthday, Mama!" Meredith squealed. Josh seemed to second the sentiment, bouncing on his toes. They were wearing aprons and matching chef hats. Her heart melted at the sight of them.
"Thank you," she said, detaching herself from Edward and giving them each a hug.
Josh pointed to his chest, "Arp-on." Then he looked at Edward. "Man, arp-on."
Looking at Edward, Bella realized belatedly that Edward was wearing an apron—her apron. "Very nice," she said, offering him a sly smile.
He winked at her. "I'll have to borrow Meredith's hat later."
Meredith pressed a large rectangular box into Bella's hands. "Open mine first, please!" she said.
"How about some breakfast first?" Edward suggested.
Bella's stomach growled loudly. "Good idea."
Breakfast was a mostly silent affair, punctuated with appreciative noises over cheese blintzes and nutella-banana crepes.
"My god," Bella intoned over her last bite, "those were amazing."
"Thank you," Meredith and Edward said together. Josh held his plate to his face, licking it for the last vestiges of sugar.
"Presents now?" Meredith asked, looking to Edward.
Interesting, Bella thought. It was the first time she'd sought permission from Edward when Bella was also present. There'd been a few attempted power tussles with Meredith and Edward, although none that had required her intervention...yet. This was a very good step, all things considered.
There were two presents from Josh and Meredith—or, rather, from her children with some distinct Cullen assistance and funds. Bella didn't think the average five-year-old would go shopping at Prada's maternity wear boutique, but the sky was the limit with Alice around to help.
"Thank you, it's just what I need" she told Meredith, privately rolling her eyes at Edward while he smirked.
It was at least a practical gift, she told herself. Her maternity wardrobe had shrunk, not having had to stretch into the cooler weather before. The warm dress was something she could comfortably wear to work.
Josh's present was much smaller, a box only as big as his two hands, now sticky with smeared banana and chocolate. Inside was a pair of golden sunflower earrings. "Mama," Josh said by way of explanation. "Yellow."
She blinked back tears. "They're beautiful, Josh. Thank you," she managed.
"Why don't you two go get dressed while I clean up, and Mama gets ready for work," Edward said.
Alone, Edward moved to the seat adjacent to her, pulling Bella onto his lap. "So, not too bad so far?"
"No, pretty amazing," Bella said, letting a breath out.
"So, I have a present for you too," Edward said.
"Ah," she replied, nervously.
"But I didn't wrap it," he murmured, planting a kiss on her jaw bone.
"Mm." It was hard to think while Edward paid such attention to her.
"It's kind of impractical to wrap up a heart."
Her eyes sought the cold sensation that stayed in her hand when his left hers. Located in her palm was a gold, dollar-sized heart, strung on a simple gold chain.
"And this one seemed a lot prettier, anyway," he said.
When she opened her eyes after their kiss concluded, she was afraid to glance at the clock on the wall; it had lasted that long, and she'd been lost so completely in his touch.
"It opens, too," he said.
It did. Inside was a small picture of all of them, taken in the Cullens' garden in Forks.
"It's beautiful," she murmured, leaning in to kiss him.
"Just like you," he whispered back.
He was so good to her. Too good. Her grip on his hair would've been painful for a human. He growled in response, and then reluctantly pulled himself away, also looking at the clock. "It's late. Can I drive you to work?"
"I think that's permissible for a birthday girl."
She closed her eyes during a lot of the drive. Josh made encouraging "Whee!" sounds from the back and she could only imagine Meredith's wide-eyed expression at the landscape flying past them.
While the secretary complimented Bella on her new dress, no one else said anything that indicated they knew about her birthday. At lunch, when the door slammed shut after the last student had left, Bella chucked her shoes off and put her feet up on the desk, fishing for her bag in the bottom drawer. The blood that had taken up residence in her feet made a slow migration back towards her heart, and she groaned in relief, rubbing her back with her other hand. It wasn't getting any easier to be pregnant. She just hoped she could stay working until the end of October. She'd taken leave far too early the two previous times, and found herself anxious and irritable beyond bearing. Her psychiatrist had also expressed some concern about her boredom and agitation, which only compounded the negative feelings.
Of course, it would be different now, she told herself.
It still wasn't easy to believe, much as she wanted to—much as she knew she should. They got to be hopeful now. Victoria had been dealt with. But the layer of irksome doubt was so deeply buried, Bella knew it was a strata that would take a long time to excavate.
"We're getting married," she told herself. It helped to say it aloud —to keep reminding herself of the good things yet to come. Pulling out her lunch, she took a moment to guess at the contents before prying off the lid. She was wrong, as usual. It was a surprise every time, and the excellent products of Edward's culinary skills made her smile.
Her phone emitted a flurry of loud pings, and she reluctantly put her feet down so that she could reach it, wondering why there would be so many messages or texts all at once. She and Edward usually texted or called at lunch. Her heart sped joyfully even at the thought of this remote contact. Perhaps he was sending several all at once.
But there were no messages from Edward.
Sitting at the top of the screen was an email from Victoria.
Out of shock, Bella felt the phone beginning to slip from her now shaking hand. She fumbled to catch it, but was too late. It fell screen-first to the floor, where the glassy smack made her think of bones and other bodily bits breaking.
She was gone, Bella told herself. Alice had seen it happen in many different ways. She had brought her the witch's fricking ashes, for God's sake. They were safe. They were safe. She forced herself to repeat this until her breathing slowed.
There must be a perfectly logical reason for this email to be there. She didn't have anything to worry about.
With a frustrated grunt, Bella bent over, her hand shaking as she reached for her phone. Its appearance confirmed what she'd heard. Several starry cracks marred the screen.
She made herself look at the message again. This time, her mind grasped the date.
"Oh my God," she breathed out in relief, wiping her hand over her face. The email was dated from the summer. It was the same one she'd showed Edward. Beneath it was a list of other email messages from the same period that were also saved in her phone for one reason or another. It was just some sort of technical glitch.
She closed her eyes, taking another steadying breath. When she opened them again, she swiped at the screen, happy to delete the email from her life—resolving to delete all thoughts of Victoria from it, too.
"Screw you," she muttered , and then hissed, feeling the bite of broken glass on her finger. The cracked screen had left a shiny shard embedded in her skin, a swelling sphere of blood cushioning it. The offending email stared stubbornly back at her.
She was able to pull out her dustbin from under the desk before the vomiting began. By the time she was done, she was miserable from the strain and the adrenaline hangover. Certain she had vomited all she could, she risked looking at her finger again. The sliver was deeply embedded and she'd need help to remove it. Not quite waddling, but not moving with anything like grace, she walked to the office, longing briefly for Edward's calming presence before resigning herself to the mercies of the school's first-aid attendant.
It was ten minutes of paperwork and ten seconds of treatment, but at least the first-aid attendant took the sliver out first.
"Good grief, what did you do to that?" the woman asked, catching a glimpse of Bella's phone screen.
"Oh, I'm just clumsy," Bella said, waving her cut hand in the air.
"You don't say," the woman mumbled. "No problem. Want me to fix it for you? I mean, it won't be pretty, but it'll work without you slicing up your fingers until you can get it properly fixed."
"Can you?" Bella asked.
Apparently, she could. A few minutes later, Bella's screen was restored to usefulness, neatly held together with a few strips of well-placed packing tape.
Bella had never felt so gratified, deleting an email.
"Good riddance," Bella muttered as she finally pressed delete, while unlocking her classroom door. She added other, silent epithets for good measure. "You are not going to ruin today, and you can no longer ruin my life. In fact, someone's already ripped you into tiny little pieces and burnt your shitty remains to ash."
"Uh, who did what to whom, Ms. H.?" Chelsea's voice asked from behind her.
Bella dropped the phone again, nearly falling over when she bent to retrieve it.
"Sorry, I was just—ah, I was just—"
"Going to kill someone?" Chelsea supplied.
"It was metaphorical," Bella said quickly. "Just a problem I have. I was talking . . . metaphorically." Her face felt hot.
I am the world's worst liar, she thought.
But Chelsea hadn't seemed to have noticed this. Her face lit up, and the words that spilled out of her were full of enthusiasm. "I do that too! I personify my problems, only, I reason with them—not kill them. Maybe you should do that. Violence isn't good Ms. H., I mean, you have a baby coming. You should probably get a handle on those emotions." Her face fell a bit, like she'd remembered who she was talking to, and she looked down, ducking into the classroom without further comment.
Get a handle on my emotions. Bella had to stifle the laughter that bubbled up at Chelsea's words. Although her star student had no way of knowing it, she had given Bella exactly what she needed in that moment: clarity. The girl was absolutely right.
She was done with worrying, done with setting limitations on hope, and done with giving anymore of her time to Victoria.
"Happy Birthday to me," she whispered, and for the first time in ten years, she meant it.
DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.