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"Explain," Rosalie stands in the hotel room, arms crossed glaring down at me.
I sit on the edge of the bed Edward and I had spent most of the day twisted up in. The white cotton sheet sheltering us from prying, judging eyes.
Edward left ten minutes ago, offering to take a short walk. Letting Rosalie get the lay of the very uncomfortable and confusing land.
Rosalie had been out on a date when she bumped into us. It just so happened to be the same restaurant Edward had picked for us to dine at tonight.
We'd thought the chances of bumping into someone else that we knew was zero to none. Our spouses were at home. We thought we were safe. That we'd fortified the cocoon. We were wrong.
"He's a parent at the school," I sigh, "his son was sent to my office and I asked him to come in."
"Then what Bella? he fucked you across the desk?" She asks.
"Not that time at least," I shrug my shoulders embarrassed, shake my head, "look I know this is wrong."
"Wrong? It's not like you at all," she scowls at me, fighting clear signs of flipping her absolute shit, "you know how I feel about Jacob. I feel the same way about his wife in all honesty. But Bella, this isn't the way. Edward has small children."
Context you need... Rosalie hates cheating. Why? Emmett cheated on her. It was a small lapse in judgement, he was totally apologetic and he was drunk but not so much that he managed to stop it before it became unforgivable. He'd made out with a girl at a party. Rosalie found out and tried to look past it. But she couldn't. She brought it up during fights, she pictured it when they were making love. Rosalie is stunning but her insecurities are intensive. Insane mummy issues could by why. Her mother abandoned her and she constantly questions her worth as a result. She'd come along way in the past year. But knowing her best friend was participating in behaviour that destroyed her trust in what I call her 'one true love' must be tough for her. Especially because she hates the man she's defending.
"I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt," I look down at my hands.
I'm a small child being chastised by their mother. Rosalie tsks and paces. Practically walking holes into the carpet.
"Does anyone else know?" She asks.
"No," I shake my head.
"No one else has to," she sits beside me, "this can all stop at me."
"I don't know if I can do that," I shake my head.
"What are you in love with him or something?" She raises an eyebrow, incredulously.
I say nothing. Am I? It's a possibility. I hadn't stopped to ask myself that question. But each day what was a spark continues to develop into wildfire. It's well past extinguishing. Every attempt to put it out will simply fan flames toward the exisiting infrastructure of our seperate lives.
"You fucking are," she gasps in horror, "that look on your face. I don't think you have ever even looked like that with Jacob. You have seriously gone and had an affair, but also fallen for him. You love him."
"You just don't understand," I snapped at her.
It really is a day of firsts for her. I've never snapped at her before.
Rosalie was my best friend. She knew what I was often thinking with an expression on my face. We spoke almost every few days and facetime called once a week. We'd seen each other through a lot. I'd nursed her through her Emmett heartache and she'd held me through some of the worst days of my marriage. Through the days Jacob should have been there, Rose was. She'd been my maid of honour and my saviour. Through all of this disagreement in my actions I knew she'd still have my back.
"Make me understand," she takes my hand in hers, "because the Bella I know wouldn't ever ever do this. An affair. A sexual one too! I know you're the kind of woman who would leave and then pursue this."
"I know it isn't like me. Which proves how desperate I was to feel something for once," I stand and walk away from her, a slight tremble as I stare out the window, "for so long I've felt trapped. I thought that would be my life. I could leave but then what? What next?"
"You could do anything you want Bella. You're not defined by him," she stands, "you know I'm here for you. If you needed help separating you know I'd support you."
"He would make it the messiest divorce. All of his possessions are mine. He has all his stupid friends," I shake my head, "he'd discredit me and come for my career and passions. Parents would whisper about my credibility in education."
"Fuck them," she shakes her head, "if I had a kid you're the first person I'd want in charge of teaching them the alphabet. You are an angel and he never for a second deserved you. But babe, Edward doesn't either. He has a family too and I don't think you deserve a man who is willing to turn their back on them."
"He makes me feel so good," my cheeks begin to feel wet from tears I hadn't noticed falling, "like finally I get to have orgasms at the hands of a man."
"You honestly needed one," she wipes my face away with her thumbs, "I could give you one quicker than Jacob for fuck sake. My birthday last year I considered suggesting it after that third bottle of wine we had but I didn't want to ruin the friendship."
"Okay," I flinch awkwardly, causing her to giggle.
"I'm kidding," she shakes her head, "all I'm saying is he has never been in tune with your needs. Perhaps Edward noticed that and it wouldn't be so hard to wiggle in if he had. I don't want you to get hurt when he snaps out of it and runs back to her."
She has a point. A point I've known all of this time but I'd just ignored.
"You know he has collateral here and it's not his family. It's you," she says, "those Cullen boys don't give a fuck. Take it from me. If anyone goes down for this it's you, babe. He's a powerful man and women like us are taking the fall for guys like that every time. This doesn't end well for you."
"I can't turn my feelings off," I shake my head, defiant.
"Then you need to stop this before they deepen any more," she says, "if kids weren't involved here I'd say fuck him until the cows come home considering his wife once told me I looked fat in my bikini. But until he calls time on his marriage and has some sort of custody deal. Until he is single by all means of the word you should space yourself. You should focus on you."
"You think I should ask for a divorce?" I look at her.
She nods, eyes pleading with me to follow her advice.
"It'll be ugly but yea," she says, "I can come to Forks and help you pack his shit up. Help you sort yourself out. Threaten him if he touches you. You know I'm a good guard dog."
"I can move in with my dad," I shake my head.
"It's going to be okay," Rosalie pulls me into a huge hug, "I have your back for whatever decision you make."
"Thank you. As an expression of gratitude I should tell you that Emmett said your name during sex," I say, "Edward told me."
Rosalie pulls back looking at my face in shock, a wicked smile pulling at her lips.
"Now I really want to give you that orgasm," she grins.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't," I laugh, wiping the last of my tears away.
Pleased I have a best friend to rely on. Who will give me the truth no matter how ugly it is. However, I'm completely unsure of how much of her advice I can take.
Edward watches me zip my suitcase up, hands in his pockets, head hanging low in the dim light. The city behind him illuminates the room, the bedside lamp offering little warmth to the space. There's distance between us already.
"You should wait until the morning," he says, "it's late. You can't drive back to Forks tonight."
"I'm staying with Rose," my voice cracks.
"You don't have to go," he runs a hand through his hair, eyes sullen.
He takes a step toward me, desperate for me to change my mind. But Rosalie was right. We both agreed with that much. Edward knew what we had been doing was wrong. But like me, it hurt to admit it to himself.
"I want to divorce her. Things just need to be right. My lawyers need to work on it so the kids…"
"Exactly," I interrupt, "your kids. They are part of this. I don't want to hurt them in the crossfire of this."
"So I should be unhappy because I'm a parent," his eyes shift to an emotion closer to anger, "my life should suffer, because I have children. Perhaps I want my children to see a healthy relationship. Perhaps I want to feel good for once."
"Your children are beautiful. They deserve all of that but this isn't the way to give it to them. This was a mistake," I turn away from him, fearful I'll back out on my decision to stop this.
"This was a rude awakening. This was proof I needed to stop moving around through life half here and half in hope," he wraps an arm around my waist.
When he pulls me back into him I come close to caving. So close to throwing my suitcase to the floor so I can climb on top of him on the bed and kiss the pain away.
"I don't want you to leave," he presses a kiss on my collarbone, "you don't need to worry. I can fix this for us."
"If I do I'm destroying a home," I shake my head grabbing his hands, weakly trying to pry them away.
"I can't change your mind can I?" He huffs, heartbroken.
"I'm sorry but I'm fighting to be strong here. One of us has to switch reality back on before we hurt someone," I close my eyes.
"Stay for one more night," he whispers, "then we can go our separate ways tomorrow. What's one more night after months."
Twisting my head I glance up at him. His eyes are watery, threatening to let go of held back emotion. I underestimated how much this might hurt him too. This was more than sex to him.
"One more night," he pleads, "please, Bella."
A small nod is all I can give him before his lips are crashing into mine. His kiss is raw emotion, pouring the impending loss of our passion into it with each movement. I let him take the lead, guiding us back to the bed. Laying us down slowly, he lies atop of me, his body pressed firmly against mine.
His weight holds me in a way I wish wouldn't ever ease up.
I enjoy his hands removing my clothes, I enjoy his kisses pressing against my skin, I enjoy the pleasure he can bring for the last time.
He penetrates me and each thrust packs a final hot punch. He moves slower tonight. Passionate and careful, with kisses lining my neck and chest.
Every so often his lips find mine, pushing more meaning alongside the powerful movements of his shaft.
Moaning into his mouth, I can't fight the feeling this is more. This is different. It feels final.
Is he making love to me?
I can't accept it as fact.
When it's over and he's kissing me again, he wipes my face.
"I can't say what I want to say if you're leaving me," he whispers.
"Don't say it," I shake my head, "if you do we can't do the right thing."
"Maybe I don't want to. Maybe I'm sick of the right thing," he cuddles me against him.
That night we wake up to get lost in one another several times. Each time it's less dirty and more loving.
When im dressed and ready to leave the next morning, he presses a soft kiss to my lips.
"I've fallen in love with you," he whispers, "I can't let you go without saying it."
Thank you for reading
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