A/N: Okay, now we can begin to wind down. Here's what happened to Edward and a little bit more.
I was back in Seattle after my little excursion and I hadn't said a word to anyone, least of all the doctor that plagued my every waking moment. I sat in the recliner in my hospital room staring out the window at the rain.
After leaving the office over a week ago, I drove into Canada. I'd planned on heading up to Alaska, but after Vancouver I made a left. I lived on five hour energy drinks and gas station food. Fried burritos being my favorite much to my surprise. Without really knowing what I was doing or where I was going, I drove onto a ferry and ended up on Bowen Island. I was sitting in a little place called the Snug Café when I'd lost any motivation to do anything.
To make a long story short, after sitting in the same spot for a few hours—not touching my coffee and staring at the wall—someone called the local doctor. I watched as the nice man searched my wallet and then paid my bill at the café with my credit card. I'd even signed the receipt and left the woman a 200% tip. Aro would be pleased.
He took me to the local clinic, which was in an old, remodeled colonial house. The man was kind and concerned but I just couldn't bring myself to say anything. It's not like anything I'd said in the past had done any good so I just shut up. It was about a day before my father showed up. His face was a mask of concern and his tone very tentative.
"Edward, do you want to tell me what's going on?" he asked. I just looked at him—for a very long time.
I hadn't expected anyone to come get me, least of all him. I actually hadn't expected anything. The man must have done some research to find my father and called him.
"Okay, you don't want to talk," dad said. "Will you come with me back to Seattle?" I didn't answer. I just stood up. I looked at the nice man who must have called him and nodded. It was all I could manage and I followed my dad to the car.
We drove in silence all the way back to Seattle. We stopped for gas once and my dad asked me if I wanted anything. I followed him in and placed a fried burrito on the counter next to the drinks he was purchasing. He looked at me, surprised, and I shrugged. He watched me as I ate it in the car. I washed it down with the Dr. Pepper he bought me. It was my favorite as a kid and it stirred something in me that he remembered that. It was the first time in a long time I'd felt anything about anything other than anger.
"I'm going to take you to the hospital, Edward. I'm very worried about you," he said. I didn't say anything, I was worried about me, too. The problem was, I had no idea how to fix it.
I was checked into a very nice clinic and the attending doctor was very patient, but very persistent. I could hear him talking to my father outside my door.
"Any ideas yet?" my dad asked.
"None, he just won't say anything. He's polite to the nurses, will respond with shrugs and nods, but he won't talk," the doctor said.
"Thank you, Winston. I appreciate all your help," my dad said. He came in then and sat down next to me, looking out the same window at the rain.
"I've talked to Bella," he said. "She's worried about you." I kept staring out the window. "I know about the baby." That got me to look at him.
"Edward, if you want to get better, you need to talk," he said, his eyes pleading and full of genuine concern.
"Why do you care?" I asked, my voice hoarse from disuse.
"Because you're my son," he answered, looking mildly relieved.
"But I've been awful to you," I added.
"You're my son," he repeated.
"I don't feel that way about anyone," I said. "I don't want to do anything for anyone unless it benefits me. If people don't live up to my expectations, I cut them off. Helping me is no benefit to you. So that makes me question your motives. What is wrong with me? I used to think that was normal, but I'm beginning to see it is not."
"No, Edward, that is not normal. And I'm beginning to believe that the original diagnosis of OCD may not be entirely accurate. But if you start talking to me or your doctor, maybe we can figure this out and get you some help," he said.
"That's what I've been trying to figure out, dad. My gut says I don't need help. I can do this on my own. But when I look at my life and what it's become in just three weeks, I know that isn't true. It's a constant battle between my gut and my brain. And the only person who seems to like me I can't stand!" I added.
"You must be talking about your secretary. Aro called and gave me an earful about that a week ago," he said. "I won't deny that your life is a mess, but only you can clean it up. You may have done irreparable damage to your marriage. But you have the possibility to know your child," he said.
"Why would I want to mess up another life? The best thing I can do for that baby is leave him or her alone." And no one was ever going to move me on that subject. Ever.
I turned my body to look out the window again to show my father I was done talking for the time being. I knew I'd lost Bella. It was all I thought about while sitting in that clinic in Snug Cove. I thought about all the things I could say to win her back and it was all hollow. She deserved more than I could give her because I couldn't give her any emotion that was real. And that was all she ever wanted.
And, the only way to get her back would mean the baby would come in a few months. And I wasn't going to impose my craziness on another human being.
"This is a good start, Edward. I want you to know whether you can feel it or not, that I am going to be here for you. If you let me, I will help you in any way I can." I didn't say anything for a few minutes and he finally stood to leave.
"Thank you, dad. I don't know how to show it, but I feel like I should appreciate it."
"I love you, Edward. That has never changed," he said and then he left.
I did open up over the next week. It seems as if I was Dr. Henry's only patient because he was always available when I wanted to talk. I was honest and I didn't sugarcoat anything. I was diagnosed with Narcissistic Personality Disorder. I don't know if that was a relief to know that others feel—or don't feel—the same way I do or if it was more than a burden. There was no medication for it, I just had to learn how to talk to people without hurting their feelings or assuming their motives.
I agreed to see Bella about a week after I first opened up. I was going to insist upon a divorce, but more for her benefit than mine. It was the strongest feeling I had about anything that wasn't anger or disgust. Dr. Henry didn't disagree with my decision, though he did suggest that I try to work it out with her.
I was sitting in the common room when she came in. She was wearing a pair of jeans, that ugly bowling shirt I hated, and converse. It made me smile because it was so Bella. She looked nervous and she was biting her lip. She sat down in front of me and gave me a searching look.
"Hello," I said. I smiled again at her attire.
"What are you smiling at?" she asked. Her tone was wary, but interested.
"I can't tell if you wore that because you know I hate it or because you love it. My brain is telling me the former, my therapy is telling me the latter," I said. She smiled back.
"It's the latter. They're my comfort/safety clothes. And I'm nervous. I have so many mixed emotions I don't know where to begin. The one thing I can control is what I wear. You should understand that," she said. I nodded, trying to understand. I did. I'd sought control over all else my whole life. It was just hard for me to admit I didn't control much.
"Edward, I'm so sorry this has happened. I hope you know I never intended to get pregnant. That was never a plan. The plan was the live happily ever after. But I'm learning that doesn't happen for any one." I was learning the same thing. I didn't have anything to add or detract from her statement so I went with a question.
"What happened to your face?" I asked, a little concerned about the greenish bruise across her cheekbone. I realized it was blunt, but right now I had no ability to be anything else. Her hand found the bruise that had yellowed on her cheekbone.
"There was an incident. One of Jake's former employees kidnapped me for a few minutes," she reported. I sat forward in my chair, concerned. "He got more than he gave," she added, seeing my concern.
"What does that mean?" I was feeling agitated. I hoped that was because I did, in fact, love her and I didn't like the idea of someone hurting her. I'd have to talk about that with Dr. Henry.
"It means he lost a testicle from my well placed kick," she smirked. "He was fired for embezzlement and sexual harassment and he was trying to hurt Jake by hurting the women in his life," she said. A blush rose up her neck when she said it.
"I know he was your high school boyfriend. I know why you kept that from me. Are you with him now?" I asked, clutching the arms of the chair against her possible response.
"No," she whispered. "I'm still married and I take those vows very seriously. So does he."
"I believe you," I said. I don't know why I said that, but she looked relieved so it must have been the right thing to say. "But you do love him." It was a statement.
"I always have," she admitted. She didn't add other information which I appreciated.
"You cut your hair," I commented. I'd noticed it the moment she walked in. The length was the same, but she'd done that faddish undercut thing. It was easy to see when she had the rest of it pulled back in a braid. I hated it.
"I had to get stitches and it just made things easier," she replied, lightly touching the place where the stitches must be. That must have been another part of her "accident" but she didn't offer any other information. We were quiet for a few moments and it was uncomfortable. I might as well get this over with.
"Bella, I want to love a child, but I just can't. It's not in me. I've always known that, but I'm finally figuring out why. My father says you have divorce papers drawn up and I'll sign them. Aro says you've been very generous with the properties that we placed in your name. I thank you for that."
"Yeah, Jake didn't want to be so generous. He's the one who drew them up," she admitted.
"So he really did graduate from Harvard Law School?" I asked with an ironic smile.
"Yeah," she said. "You've done your research."
"Can you solve something I just can't figure out, please? For my continued improvement with my mental health?" I asked. I was trying to keep things light, but this really bugged me.
"I'll try, but I have some questions for you when you're finished," she said.
"Quid pro-quo, huh?" I asked. "I can handle that. You deserve some answers."
"Thank you, Edward. I appreciate that. I think that the most forthright you've been with me since we've been together," she said. "Ask your question. I hope I can clear up your confusion."
"If he's a licensed attorney who graduated from Harvard Law School, why was he wearing holey jeans and old, faded athletic t-shirts from high school and college?" I asked. Her response was wonderful and frustrating all at the same time. She laughed. Like a belly roll, side-splitting laugh I'd never heard before. She laughed so hard, tears came to her eyes. When she was finished she apologized.
"The airlines lost his luggage. He was just as frustrated as you seem to be. He has apartments all over the country and all he keeps in La Push are his old clothes because La Push is his place to relax. That's what you were judging him on. He's gonna get a kick outta that," she said. I felt the anger well up and she must have seen it on my face. I took a deep breath like Dr. Henry had been training me to do.
"Well that clears that up," I said after a few breaths. When I looked at Bella she looked impressed.
"I didn't mean to laugh at you, I'm sorry. I was laughing at Jake's frustration at his luggage as well as your inability to believe that he did more than get a two year degree from PACC. I'm laughing at him, not you," she explained.
"My mind understands that, but that doesn't help the beast. That's what I've taken to calling my uncontrolled anger," I said. "I'm still a work in progress. What are your questions?" I asked, changing the subject.
"Tanya?" was all she said. I'd been prepared for this question, but it was still a kick to my gut.
"Bella, I'm sorry. I didn't see it as infidelity because I would do with her the things I wouldn't allow myself to do with you. I'm beginning to see that I was wrong," was all I could offer her.
"What does that mean?" she asked, looking truly confused. I sighed.
"Apparently I have some very weird misconceptions about sex that we haven't even begun to unpack," I admitted. "But I have some strange predilections and I didn't want to subject you to them."
"Strange predilections? You mean you like positions other than missionary?" she asked. "That's all we ever did. I was willing to try other things with you, but you always refused. Those aren't strange predilections, Edward, that's just variety. I would have very much enjoyed some variation."
"You wouldn't have found that demeaning?" I asked. I had so much work to do in this area.
"To be on top once and a while? To actually orgasm?" she asked with a smile. "No, Edward. I have always been a bit adventurous in bed, but you never allowed me to show you. But I was okay with that, because I loved you." I couldn't bear to think about Bella in any compromising positions with me, much less anyone else, especially Jake, so I didn't let my mind linger there. I moved my mind to the next question that crossed it.
"Is that past tense?" I asked. I really didn't know why I asked that. But it was important that I knew.
"No, I still love you. But I really do think divorce is the best option since you will not consent to raise your child. I won't ask anything from you. I've given all the properties back with some very precise conditions and the exception of Second Beach. That never should have been in your control anyway. Your grandfather understood that, that's why he gifted it back. I will stay in contact with your father, I think he is excited to be a grandfather and I am going to let him. He and Charlie have become very good friends and I want our child will know him."
Her tone was assertive and not placating at all. I remember that this was one of the reasons I was attracted to her when I first saw her in government class our freshman year of college. She'd lost that over the years and I could see my part in that.
"I've requested a statement relinquishing any and all parental rights to the child. Just to make your life easier when you find someone to love you the way you deserve to be loved. Do you have enough money to get by comfortably?" I asked. I knew her tastes weren't extravagant and this was a major turn I had made in the past week—making sure she was financially secure.
"Yes. I've been writing freelance for a digest out of Oklahoma for the past couple of years and I have been depositing that money in a savings account for us. I was going to take us on a trip for our ten year anniversary. It's a nice nest egg for me and the baby. Edward, I don't expect any child support. You have always told me that you didn't want children. But, I hope you can come to understand why I can't part with him."
"So you know he's a boy?" I asked. I was avoiding the anger I felt about her stashing money away. I'd have to process that later. I was enjoying the conversation. We hadn't talked like this in years.
"No. I'll have an ultrasound in two weeks to determine the gender. I just had a dream the other night and he was a boy. I have no wishes or expectations about gender. It's just better than saying 'it'. Don't you think?" she asked.
"I guess," was all I could provide for her. "Listen, Bella, I really am sorry for any pain I caused you. That was never my intention. I hope at some point I can actually feel it instead of merely saying it."
"Me, too," she said. She gazed at me for a few more beats before she looked down and pulled a large manila folder from her bag. "We might as well get this done. There's no point in dragging it out." She handed me the folder with a pen. "It's got tabs so you don't miss anything," she said. When I looked her she was smiling and she winked.
"Okay, I know that was a low thing to do to bring her to lunch that day you found out about Charlie. I won't even get into my thought processes that day," I said remembering that fateful day at the restaurant when I'd allowed Tanya to join us. I signed the papers offering Bella the freedom to live her life free of my narcissism. If I could have felt bad I would, but I did feel a little bit of satisfaction that I was letting her go and it was the right thing to do.
"Thank you, Edward. I'll be honest, I was dreading this meeting, but it has been more cathartic than I ever imagined. I do wish you well. I will inquire about you through your father unless you would rather I not. But only because I will always love you and worry about you."
"Well, if we're being honest, the beast is telling you to fuck off, but my brain wishes you would," I said. The shock on her face made me laugh. The laughter was almost liberating. "What?" I asked at her shocked expression, though I thought I knew.
"Edward Cullen, what a filthy mouth you have," she said. "I'm impressed. Those words do have their time and place, don't they?"
"They do. I'm learning not to be so fastidious about them," I admitted.
"Well, you tell the beast to fuck off and I will inquire through your father and continue to wish you well," she said. She stood and smiled down at me. I couldn't stand. Part of me wanted to hug her, but the part trying to maintain control just couldn't.
"Good bye, Edward," she said, looking a little sad.
"Good bye, Bella."
Next up: Bella.
Thoughts? (Some of you called it.)
