I know FFN has been acting up...so make sure you read the previous chapter before you delve into this one.
All the way to his house, Edward fumed.
He'd planned to make a cameo appearance at dinner on Saturday – the next day. He might as well not go now, and he'd have to kick his mother out again.
Edward stepped into his house, looking around, expecting his mother to be waiting for him at the door. When there was no sign of her, he realized Tanya had worked her magic again.
"We need to talk about a raise, Tanya. Your power of saying no to my mother is outstanding!" he exclaimed, walking into the kitchen. He stopped short, though, staring in shock at none other than his mother sitting at the kitchen island. "Fuck."
Her yellow purse was next to her, a glass of lemonade in front of her.
"Mom," he gritted out.
She stood up slowly, keeping her eyes on him. She walked to him with her arms extended. He braced himself for her embrace. Why didn't anyone understand that he fucking hated being touched?
She might have seen something in his eyes, because at the last moment, a hand lifted to touch his cheek and the other took his hand.
"Edward, honey…"
He cleared his throat, keeping his eyes on her caramel ones. He'd associated that shade of brown with caramel candy since he was five. He'd never seen more beautiful eyes on anyone else.
Until Bella.
That shade of brown of hers appeared almost golden in the afternoon's sunlight earlier, only to turn into melted chocolate when they had stepped inside the pub.
Edward closed his eyes, willing himself to attempt to not think of her for five minutes. She was invading his every thought, slowly becoming an obsession. He'd never been so invested in having a woman as his.
"You look good, kiddo. I had this image of you skinnier than ever and wallowing in misery."
"Mom, I'm allowed to wallow in misery. I killed my reason to exist," he deadpanned. "As for the skinny part? Tanya force-fed me at times."
His mother giggled a little, before pulling him closer and hugging him tighter. "I've missed you."
Now, being surrounded by her sweet scent, Edward sagged into the hug, even returned it. He'd never spent so much time apart from his family. Except when he was twenty, but he'd rather not revisit that time.
"I heard you went to work."
Edward went to the fridge, smiling when he found a dish of casserole with a note pinned to it. Eat me. He pulled it out, turning to heat it in the microwave oven.
"Yeah. It wasn't that bad."
"Does this mean we're going to see you again? Your father wanted to tell you in person, but I advised him that you wouldn't want to."
"Tell me what?" Edward frowned, taking his food to the kitchen island.
"There's an auction event for the hospital next weekend. It'd mean the world to him if you showed up."
"Where?" Edward cut a bite of the chicken, turning to his mother when she didn't answer. She was staring at him with wide eyes. "What? Please, don't say anything." He could tell she was going to say something about Angela.
"I don't know why I expected you to make a slow recovery. Of course, you'd jump right in and get on with your life."
"Slow recovery?" Edward snorted. "What part of the past five months have you missed, Mother?"
"We expected you to keep on living, but never be the same," she admitted in a small voice.
"Trust me, I'm not the same." He pushed the plate away. "I'll discuss the auction with dad tomorrow." He stood, prompting his mother to mirror his action. "Dinner at yours?" He raised a brow when she didn't say anything.
"Of course," she nodded, clearly surprised.
"Let me walk you out."
Edward tried to contain his anger, as he walked behind his mother. No one would ever understand the depth of his relationship with Angela. He didn't expect them to.
Many people in his life knew he could be a control freak, as they loved to call him, and some believed that side of him was part of his love life, too, but few really knew exactly how much he loved control.
"Dinner starts at seven."
"I know, Mom." Edward kissed her cheek at the front door.
He watched her from the door as she climbed inside the large SUV he and his father had bought for her several years ago. He smiled, remembering how outraged Angela had been. She had kept telling him that normal people didn't get cars for their birthdays. She had never grasped how he worked and that all his actions were based on how much he cared for the people around him.
Edward shut the door, keeping his palm on the wood part of it. Then, he made a fist of his hand, slamming it against the door. Sadly, it went through the glass part.
"Fuck."
The sound of shattering glass alerted Tanya, who seemed to have a super sense when he was injuring himself. Like when he'd tried to drown in the pool back in February, or that time he'd been too drunk to open the pill bottle he had intended to ingest with the rest of the whiskey in the bottle.
There were times when he believed Tanya was his guardian angel.
"Sir!" Tanya gasped from behind, hurrying toward him.
"I'm fine," he snapped, storming toward his room, leaving a trail of blood droplets all over the white marble floor.
As he kept his right hand under the faucet, watching the blood going down the drain, Edward decided it was time to find a different way to channel his anger. If anything happened to him… he wouldn't cause his family the pain he felt for losing Angela.
Tanya knocked on the door, keeping her eyes on him through the glass peep window in the door.
It made Edward question his sanity for the amount of windows and glass in the house. It looked sleek and modern, but there was no fucking privacy.
She came into the bathroom, even though he never invited her.
"Sit." She pointed to the ottoman near the bathtub. "I thought you were over self-inflicted injures."
"I thought you were used to this. I think you get a kick out of tending to my cuts and bruises."
Tanya huffed, kneeling at his side and working on cleaning the cuts on his hand. He kept his eyes on the gash on the side of his hand, running down to his wrist.
"I couldn't tell your mother to leave this time. Mrs. Cullen was so happy to hear you were better, asking for how long you've been better." She kept her head down as she spoke.
"I am better," Edward admitted. "Shit. That stings." He stared at his hand, as Tanya disinfected the cut.
"Maybe you should see your father, sir. This cut is really deep."
"Just put a Band-Aid over it."
.
.
.
Later that night, Edward knew he'd need normalcy to be able to keep living his life and endure the pain of losing Angela. He hadn't lied to his mother when he had said that, if he were back, he'd be back full force.
Edward decided an email was less personal and a better choice than a text message. A phone call was out of question, because Jasper would start picking through his head making him go ten steps back into his depression.
From: Edward Cullen
To: Jasper Whitlock
Date: 10 Jun 2020, 10:17 PM
Hello Jasper,
I've read through the emails you sent me and I'm grateful for them. It helped that you kept it professional and seemed to know exactly what to say. Of course, you'd know. It's your job.
I'm finally returning your emails because I've decided to stop wallowing in self-pity and misery.
What do you say about Sunday morning?
I know it's a weekend day, but I won't take much of your time.
Tell Alice I said hi.
Your friend,
Edward
Edward sent the email and then closed the laptop, pushing it to the right side of the bed.
He stared out the large glass wall overlooking the ocean until sleep took him.
Unfortunately, the same nightmare he always had, awoke him before the sun was up. Edward sat up in bed, gripping his hair, allowing a tear to roll down his nose and splash on the white bedsheet.
By the time he reached the kitchen, he'd composed himself. After a glass of orange juice, he hit the beach for his morning jog. He chose a different route, headed to the populated area, instead of the wild beach to the right side of his house.
It was too early for the usual crowd, except for the lone jogger like himself.
Edward regretted taking his iPod with him, because all the songs reminded him of Angela. She had selected them carefully, and then divided them into different playlists. He was currently listening to the 'Morning Jog' songs.
Currently, a song he wouldn't have chosen himself was playing loudly. The lyrics hit too close to home.
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone
What doesn't kill you makes a fighter
Footsteps even lighter
Doesn't mean I'm over 'cause you're gone
He was so focused on the lyrics, twisting them for his situation, that he failed to notice or hear the warning shout. Edward found himself on his back, with a large dog on top of him, lapping at his face.
Edward pulled an earbud out in time to see none other than Bella running toward him with a leash in her hand.
"Hold him!" she cried out.
Edward grabbed the back of the dog's neck, turning his head to the side.
"You're dead, mutt!" she barked, kneeling next to Edward. Her hands tangled in the reddish fur of the Husky, pulling him to her. The dog's ears were plastered to his head, his eyes begging for mercy.
Edward was mesmerized by their color – they were almost the same golden shade he'd seen in Bella's in the sun.
She put the collar and leash back on the dog.
"Sorry for this," she grumbled.
"It's not every day when a dog knocks me down," Edward laughed, sitting up slowly. He patted the dog's head, making him jerk toward Edward for more licks.
"Harley!" she snapped. "Down." She pointed to the sand between them. The dog lay there, huffing. "God, I regret getting him. He never listens to me."
"I see he does," Edward commented, still surprised Bella owned a dog. He didn't take her as an animal person.
"I guess I was too lonely. He's alright most of the time. The walks are still a problem, though."
"So… Harley?"
Bella's cheeks turned red. "It was a terrible choice. He lives up to his name. Strong and fast, like a Harley."
"Mind if I join your walk?" Edward asked, getting up. He reached down, holding out his hand for Bella.
She eyed it dubiously, and almost reticently, she took it. Her hand was so small in his large one.
Edward had never imagined feeling that warmth spread through his body. He was sure all his feelings had died with Angela.
"If you don't mind me shouting at Harley every other minute?" She looked at him through her lashes.
"Maybe I could help? I used to have a dog when I was younger. He died a few years ago."
"Oh, I'm so sorry. That must have been horrible."
"It was. But when I left for college, he lived with my parents, so I didn't see him much." Edward wasn't sure why he decided to talk about college, even in passing. Next time he revisited those memories, it would still be too soon.
He wrapped the earbuds' wire around the iPod, pocketing the device. He took the leash from Bella's hand.
"He's really strong," she warned.
"I think I can handle him," Edward chuckled. "Harley, up," he said, dropping his voice.
The dog immediately stood, looking at him. Edward smiled, catching Bella's amazed eyes. "Come," he said, expecting both of them to walk.
Bella kept staring at her dog in amazement, as they walked slowly down the beach.
It was in that moment when Edward allowed his eyes to wander away from her face. She was wearing a large shirt that knotted at her side. He could spy a scar on her side, disappearing into her jean shorts. She had Chucks on her feet.
"So, you jog?" she asked, breaking the silence.
"Most mornings," he admitted. He'd missed the early morning air, the ocean's smell, and the empty beach during his time spent cooped up in the house, drinking his sorrows away.
"I see. I wish I could jog, too, but he'd drag me all over the beach like in those bad movies."
"I doubt it. Look how well he's walking," Edward said. It was true. Harley was walking at his feet, not pulling or trying to run away.
"He just hates me. He always listens to men better, anyway." She shrugged. "You should see me tell him to get off the couch at home, and when Jake tells him, Harley gets on his blanket, looking like an angel."
"Maybe you need to be more authoritative?"
"Believe me, I'm trying. But Harley's the alpha and he thinks I'm his bitch," she scowled. "He probably expects me to kneel at his feet and worship him."
Edward laughed loudly. Funny how Bella how mentioned that so casually…
"Teach him he should be the one kneeling and worshipping you."
"I'm trying. We're getting along better now that he's three years old."
Edward saw a small café on the side of the road. "What about that coffee?" He nodded in that direction.
"With Harley?"
"I don't mind him. If you don't want the coffee…"
"I'm paying. You left too much for a tip yesterday."
Edward frowned. "That tip was for you. I'm paying. What kind of douchebag do you think I am to allow the lady to pay?"
"Dude, this is the twenty-first century. Men stay at home to raise kids while women go to work."
"Call me old fashioned," he muttered, walking toward the café.
"Just like your favorite drink?" she teased.
Edward smirked. "Don't worry about Harley. I'll show you he can wait patiently while we have coffee."
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Next update on Wednesday :)