Happy Wednesday, people!

As promised, here is the pre-TFMU early update. Next update will be on July 23.
Usual housekeeping first:
1. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all your reviews and alerts. Holy moly, 1,6k reviews! EditorWard is thankful and humbled. I love hearing your thoughts. Keep it up.
2. Also thank you to Team Momo, who work tirelessly to help me make this readable. My stories wouldn't exist without them and I'm so grateful they're in my corner. Alice's White Rabbit and Midnight Cougar are in the editing chairs. AGoodWitch, IAmBeagle, Driving Edward and RobsmyyummyCabanaBoy pre-read.
Some fiddling occurred. Momo fiddled. Momo is the fiddler. Still not on the roof. However, I will be on a plane TOMORROW! See y'all in Cleveland :)
3. I still don't own - SM does. But I still own a collection of mugs. One of them has a Monet painting on it.

I want to give a special shout-out to two readers.
Thank you, to Fleur50, who made her way through my entire story list and basically left a review on every single chapter I've ever written. You've made my weeks. Truly.
Thank you, to Patriciadiane, who's been binging Correct the Narrative in the last couple of days and propelled it past 1,7k reviews. THANK YOU!

Here we go!


BEHIND THE IVORIES – CHAPTER 27

Sunday afternoon ends with me driving Bella back to Wisteria House around sundown.

She comments on my car when we walk into the garage, and I can't help but laugh at her witty little barbs against finite resources and emission quotas.

"It's a hybrid. Want to drive home in the hybrid or risk an environmentally unfriendly Uber with an overtalkative driver?"

She huffs. "You have a point. Let's go."

It takes less than ten minutes to drive there. She lingers, fidgeting with the strap of her duffle bag.

"I'm going to miss you tonight, Ladybug. But I'll see you tomorrow at lunch."

She nods, but doesn't answer otherwise. When she reaches for the door handle, I stop her.

"Let me."

"Thank you," she says.

I sense she means it for more than just me being polite and opening her door.

I leave the car parked in her driveway, and we walk up the steps hand in hand. She takes a minute to rummage in her bag for her keys, and once she finds them, she faces me.

"I'm so happy you got your head out of your ass. I would have come back, you know."

"From New York?"

"Yes." She looks away, as if there's a confession I'm not quite grasping yet. "I needed to physically leave town for a while because I was this close to coming to see you and yell in your face." She mimics how close by pinching her index and thumb together, barely any space in between.

"I didn't open that door for anybody for a week. Not even Mac. But I would have opened it for you. Still, I understand why you did it. And I love you all the more for it."

Bella pulls me to her, hiding her head in my chest as she often does. "You know I'm going to rub that in Mac's face at some point, right?"

"Please do it in my presence, but after I've done my penance. I was a dick to him, and I need to apologize. He got me to call my therapist."

Bringing her hands between us, she pats my chest—and I'm assuming it's her approximation of patting my shoulders since she can't reach that high. "Good boy. I'm glad you talked to your doctor."

"Yeah. It helped a lot. But I was furious and confused for a while. I asked her what she thought I felt for you."

She snickers, being no strangers to therapists and their methods. "I'll take a wild guess. She punted on that one, didn't she?"

"Yep. But I figured it out. Took me a while, but I did. I love you, and I need to let you go. For tonight."

"Lives, jobs, and all that."

"People to annoy. First and foremost."

She stands on tiptoes, but I anticipate her move and lift her up in my arms, twirling her around for a second. When I stop, we're both dizzy, but we're laughing. Our kiss starts as a goodbye, then morphs into "why don't we?", but we break it off and end up nuzzling our noses.

"Lunch. Tomorrow," she says at last.

"Same time, same place. Come up to the newsroom. It'll be interesting."

I can't help touching her when she's near me, as if to check if she's real, if she's here. And she lets me, so I'm playing with her hair and her emerald scarf while we talk outside her door.

"Oh, we're jumping in at the deep end, are we?" She's rightfully diverted and no doubt imagining the newsroom's collective reaction at our news.

"You forget I'm going to walk into that lion's den alone tomorrow morning, bright and early."

"To be a fly on the wall for that," she replies. She's playing with the buttons on my shirt, and her fingers end up grazing my skin underneath. This isn't conducive to me leaving anytime soon. Maybe she's doing it on purpose. "But you'll tell me, right?"

"Yes, love. I will."

&&&IVORIES&&&

On Monday morning, I walk into the office alone, but I might as well be accompanied by a bag of clichés. Spring in my step. Walking on a cloud. Ray of sunshine. Being on cloud nine. And the rest of them, in all of their meteorological glory.

But I do feel happy. And free to feel happy. Being with Bella lifted a weight off me. The brooding pall I used to cast around me has all but dissipated.

When I drop a bag of donuts on Tanya's desk, she's up and beside me in a flash. And she's smacking my chest.

"Hi, Tanya. Sorry for being MIA last week."

"You inconsiderate pile of disasters. I was damn worried, kid."

I nod, acknowledging her concern and glossing over the "kid." She's closer to Mom's age, so she gets a pass by extension.

"Come into my office in five. Coffee and donuts. Those are for you. The others can get their damn snacks."

"Ah, there's the cranky curmudgeon I know and love. I have a ton of messages, too."

I groan. I knew my Monday would be hellacious after my disappearing act.

&&&IVORIES&&&

"Well, let's get to it," I tell her.

It's five minutes later on the dot when she sits down in my visitor chair, armed with a bundle of papers, two coffee cups, and two donuts. Mine is an apple fritter. This woman seriously knows me.

"Yeah, yeah. Look, I'm not going to pry, but are you okay, Ed?"

She deserves an explanation. They all do, and they'll all get one. Last night, I fired off a group Slack message to her, Mac, Jazz, and Alice to let them know I'd be back in the office, but I kept it strictly professional because it was the corporate messaging system.

I lean back in my chair after grabbing my coffee and my donut. It's the first coffee I've drunk in about a week, and for the first time, the taste doesn't turn my stomach. Happiness will do that to you—reconcile you with caffeine, that is.

"I am. Now. All of this is personal shit, but I hardly have to warn you. I trust you. The thing is I had a bad, bad falling out with Bella. Things looked awful for a while. Then—"

"You pulled your head out of your ass," she interjects.

"Why is everyone reaching this conclusion?"

She snorts. "Because we know you? Jokes aside, Ed. Your face lights up when that girl crosses the threshold. It doesn't take an MIT grad to figure this shit out. I could have told you," she concludes with a shrug. She has the nerve to look smug, but her smile is genuine.

I guess I'm going to get a lot of "I told you so" today. I might as well brace myself for the onslaught.

"Well, I figured my shit out. Happy now?" My shit-eating grin gives me away, but at this point, I don't care.

"Good. Don't you put me through another week like that, you feel me? I forbid you."

I give her my subpar version of a military salute. "Yes, ma'am. Now, messages?"

For a good half hour, we wade through the morass of stuff she set aside for me. Thankfully, most of the newsroom runs itself, but my lack of input did create a few bottlenecks.

Around nine o'clock, the rest of the riffraff start arriving, and the first one to darken my door is, of course, Mac.

"Where is the brooding bastard?" he bellows, slapping his hands against the doorjamb.

"Damaging corporate property won't help."

"Ed. You're here." He stands there, blinking at Tanya and me working. But when his gaze lands on only me, all of his boisterous fight seems to dissipate. "You look different."

No shit, Sherlock.

"Well, I'd stay for the reunion, but I have work to do," Tanya says.

Sure, Reynolds. Leave me to deal with the beast on my own.

"Close the door, Mac."

He's still standing there, staring at me as if he's seeing a ghost. It takes him a handful of seconds to react.

"God, I was so fucking worried, Ed." When the door clicks shut, he pounces.

I stand from my desk and join him. When I stretch my hand out to him, he pulls me into a hug. "Don't you ever do this shit to me again, brother."

I hug him back without shame that I'm sharing affection with my brother from another mother, the friend who's been by my side through thick and thin for years. He's played a fundamental role in keeping the pieces of Humpty Dumpty together when no other glue existed.

"Thank you, Mac." My voice breaks when I reply. I owe him a huge debt, and it's not just for the Chinese takeout he dropped at my doorstep. He met me in the middle, but didn't take all my bullshit either. "I called Dr. Maggie after you left. It helped."

"You look different, though. Lighter. Happy?"

When I step back to lean on my desk, I can't hide my gigantic smile. I know it's written all over my face. "Bella and I … we talked."

Some understanding dawns on his face. When he motions for me to elaborate, his expression is a mix between concerned friend, wannabe gossip columnist, and cheeky bastard who's tempted to spew inappropriate jokes, but he's trying to rein himself in.

"Bella and I … we're together, Mac."

And that's when he erupts into a full-on belly laugh that dispels my tension about telling him, to the point that I join in. It's liberating.

"What can I say? I followed my own advice for once."

"You're trying? For more I mean?" He tilts his head to the side, folding his arms on his chest as he scrutinizes me. "What did it? What made you change your mind?"

The way he phrases his question surprises me. "You knew?"

He shrugs, but his all-knowing smile gives him away. "I suspected. Selfies, Ed? Cooking lessons? It was written all over you."

"Am I the only idiot who didn't see it?"

He chuckles, then reaches for my donut. "Aw, shit. Apple fritter. Not my jam."

Mac's tastes in donuts are simple. The more chocolate, the better. Which may or may not be a contributing factor to why my favorite is apple fritters. He can't pillage them if he doesn't eat them. He sighs in defeat at the lost opportunity for a sweet treat, then plonks in my visitor chair.

"But to answer your question, yeah." He huffs. "You were the only idiot who didn't see it. Now, if you asked me why …" He raises an eyebrow.

"You know me, Mac. I built a fortress around my heart that made the Chinese Wall cower in fear. I was fucking terrified."

"And the fear went away, just like that?" He snaps his fingers.

If I'm being honest, some of it lingers under my uncharacteristic bubbling happiness.

"No. I mean, I'm happy. Very fucking happy. But—"

"I'll stop you right there, brother. If there's one thing I've learned with Rosie these past few weeks is that you gotta talk shit out, man. You can't assume she'll read your mind. Whatever nags you, tell her. Because maybe she worries about the same shit, too. Maybe not. But she'll listen. Piano girl is cool like that."

With a deep, shuddering breath, I realize he's right. It's human still to have fears and concerns. We've been together for what, seventy-two hours? And who's counting?

"You're right. I told her myself we'd learn to navigate this. I'm all-in now, and I want it to stay that way."

"Well, happy looks good on you. Maybe now that you finally got some you'll be less irritating," he quips.

Of course, he had to get one good dirty dig in. And because I'm too stunned to react, he even gets the last word.

&&&IVORIES&&&

The morning flashes away in a litany of people dropping by to say hi, to ask if I'm feeling better, to pitch ideas for articles, and just to shoot the shit with me.

I know what they're doing—all of them—they're verifying I'm here and everything is back to normal. Me being off work, calling in sick—that wasn't normal. It hasn't happened since I joined the Tatler.

When I spend a chunk of my morning talking to Alice and Jasper, catching up on work and other things, they both dance around the subject, as if they don't want to appear nosy.

"Look, I know you're both probably wondering, but I'm fine now. There's nothing to worry about. Truly, Alice. Stop looking at me like that. I'm not a ghost or a vampire. I won't burst into flames in the sunshine."

She trips over her words to reply. "I mean, I don't, I'm not. Aww, screw it. Are you feeling all right? Do you need to talk to someone?"

"Ed, I tried to tell her—"

There's no telling Alice what to do when she's worried about someone. The advice columnist in her will rear her inquisitive, caring head. Her barrage of questions is how she shows she cares. I wave a hand at J to dismiss his concerns, then take a good look at Alice.

"Ali, thank you so much for worrying about me. I'm okay now. I talked to my doctor."

I must have lost track of time because that's when my favorite voice chimes in from the doorway.

"And the doctor told him to pull his head out of his ass," Bella says.

She stands there smiling at me, all proud that she managed to trash talk me to my face. I have a feeling that phrase is on its way to becoming a running joke of sorts. She's wearing a black Pearl Jam T-shirt, black ripped jeans, and purple Chucks. Her hair scarf is also purple.

Jasper and Alice are a little surprised to see her, but they recover quickly, exchange pleasantries, then disappear.

The air around Bella and me crackles with the usual electricity, and today, it's like J and Alice felt it, too. It chased them away.

"Hi, Ladybug," I greet, striding across the room to reach her. When I do, I pull her into my arms and twirl her around because I love hearing her giggles of surprise when I let her fly around me.

She laughs as I kiss her, then stares at me. "Hi, baby."

When she says that, turning my pet name on me, it makes me weak in the knees. I've gone without any tenderness like this for so long that I'm soaking it up like a sponge.

Tanya's chuckle interrupts our moment. "Lord, you two are going to give me cavities, aren't you?"

"Hello, Tanya," Bella responds with a smile. "Thank you for taking such good care of him."

Bella's words melt Reynolds's sarcasm away, and she hugs Bella for all she's worth. "Oh, don't you worry about that, sweetie. I like to razz him sometimes, you know?"

Bella turns to me, laces her fingers with mine, swinging our linked hands together like kids do, then says, "Yeah, keep him on his toes."

I grab my phone and wallet, then pull on Bella's hand. "Ready for lunch?"

"Let's go!"

&&&IVORIES&&&

Today, I actually asked Tanya to book a table at the Bull & Crown. I have a sinking feeling someone will crash our lunch, but at least, we're not going to be in the middle of the floor or on full display in the window seats.

When we arrive, Ogilvy lays on the charm so thick you could cut it with a steak knife.

"Miss Bella, it's good to see you again." He actually walks around the bar to come say hello. The tips of his ears are tinged pink when Bella hugs him. Smooth bastard. He knew she'd be nice to him. She's nice to everyone.

"Get your hands off my girl, Alistair," I growl playfully at him.

"Your girl, is she?" He shakes his head. "Damn, I thought you had better taste than that, Miss Bella."

She giggles, squeezing my hand and winking at me. "Come on, he's not so bad. I happen to like him."

"Well, I won't get in the middle of that. He's a dear friend; it's good to see him happy. Your table's ready over there, folks. I'll be with you in a minute. Usual drinks?"

"Make that two herbal teas, please?" I reply.

He nods, raising an eyebrow at me. He knows I don't normally drink herbal tea. "Upside down, we're living in the upside down, I swear …"

"Is he really mad, or is he joking?" Bella asks once we're seated.

"As you may have noticed, people around here like to give me shit for no good reason. It's a local sport."

"Aww, don't act like you're offended. You give back as good as you get."

I chuckle. "That's half the fun. So, how did your morning go?"

She puffs out a huge breath and looks at me wide-eyed. "I spent the entire morning at the library."

"Researching possible PhD topics?"

She nods right when Ogilvy sets two steaming mugs on the table.

"Miss Bella, if it wouldn't be too much trouble …" he starts.

Bella looks up at him with a smile that would melt the Arctic icecap. "Yes, Mr. Ogilvy?"

Al pulls a few CDs from his apron pocket. They're all Bella's. Of course. "Would you mind?"

"Who should I make these out to?" She doesn't even flinch. I bet she's done this a million times, and it strikes me how gracefully she takes her fame.

"Oh, they're for … me, Miss Bella." There go the pink ears again. He's a goner all right, but who am I to quibble with it?

Bella signs the CDs, and he leaves after taking our orders.

"I'm shocked you ordered a burger with all the fixings, Mr. 'I'm watching my cholesterol'," she jokes.

"You noticed, uh?" I flash her a roguish smile. "Someone made me ravenous this weekend. I'm hungry," I murmur in her ear.

She shivers at my touch when my hand lands on her thigh. I should be surprised I'm being so shameless, but on second thought, I'm not. She draws it out of me—the wanting, the cheerfulness, the side of me who wants to joke, and flirt, and make her mine. All the time.

"I'm hungry, too," she replies. And it's evident two can play that game.

"Tanya wasn't lying—you two are going to give us all cavities."

Mac. Who else?

"Sit down, oaf. Is anyone else crashing my lunch with my girlfriend?" I ask him pointedly. I'm only half-piqued.

"Tsk, tsk. Already playing the possessive boyfriend, Ed?"

"Shut up, Mac. Be nice to him," Bella chides. "Is Ross joining us as well?"

"Yeah. I think she'll be here right about …"

"Well, well. Isn't this cozy. Look who decided to join the world of the living again."

Now.

Might as well face the Spanish Inquisition and be done with it. I stand and face Ross, whose eyes roam over me, then Bella, in search of who knows what. At length, though, her gaze turns milder. She must have found the answers she sought.

"Are you two all right now?" she asks me. She's not looking at Bella, just me.

"Yes, Ross. We're fine."

"Is 'fine' going to be a permanent status?" She raises an eyebrow at me. With what I put Bella through, she's entitled to give me shit.

"Yes, ma'am."

She pats my shoulder. "Good. You pass. Keep that up, Cullen. Or else."

When I sit down, Mac takes the seat next to me, and Ross sits beside Bella. He murmurs in my ear, "You don't want to know what 'else' is, bro. Trust me."

When we both chuckle, it feels good, relaxing, liberating. Again.

Then Bella's phone rings. "Oh, shit. Not him, too."

"What's up, Ladybug?"

"You up for another gatecrasher?"

I shrug. "Seems we can't keep them away. Let me guess. Jake?"

She nods.

"Eh, what's one more misfit?"

She gives me a quick kiss on the lips, then types a lightning-fast reply for Jake.

"So he's back in town?"

Ross replies to me because Bella's still typing away. "Yeah. He flew back early this morning. The club's back on track and it sounds like he's missing a certain tax accountant. Anything to say about that?" she asks with a cheeky smile.

I lift my hands in defense. "Hey, he asked for a referral. I figured, at least, he'd get his taxes sorted out."

She and Mac both chuckle. "Oh, he's sorted out all right."

"Don't be crass, Mac," she chides him with a light swat to his forearm. Given the granite density of Mac's muscled arms, I doubt it has any effect.

"You were laughing, too, Rosie."

"Okay, Jake'll be here in about twenty. He asked me to order for him," Bella adds.

She just interrupted the lovers' squabble, although it might have been interesting to see Ross put Mac in his place. They have an interesting dynamic, as best I can tell. They egg each other on, then she reins him in. It's a fascinating push and pull. But you can tell from Mac's eye and dimpled smiles that he's a goner.

"Let me call Alistair over so we can get those orders in."

I beckon him over a minute later when he's passing by with empty glasses. We rattle off our additional grub and drinks orders, then he leaves without even taking notes. He's always done that.

Ten minutes later, on the dot, Mr. Black darkens the doorway. The smile he bestows Bella dissipates when his gaze lands on me. I guess I should have expected that. He steps forward and stops right beside me. When I rise to meet him, he looks a bit surprised.

"Thank you, Jake. You gave me the final push I needed."

I offer him my hand, and he contemplates it for a minute before shaking it and pulling me into a bone-crushing hug.

"Don't you do that to us ever again, hear me?" he murmurs in my ear. I doubt it's loud enough for anyone else to hear since the pub is almost full with lunch-hour patrons.

"Yeah, I've heard that. It won't happen again."

He pats my shoulder. "Good. And keep doing what you're doing. That smile on her face? It's my reward, Ed. Thank you. You have no idea what it means to see her happy."

Oh, but I do. "She makes me just as happy."

He nods, satisfied with my words.

I feel like I've passed some kind of test. I expected Bella's friends—my friends now?—would give me more grief for what happened, but it seems like our mutual happiness has been everyone's best reward so far. There are no recriminations, no accusations. As shitty as I feel for always comparing this situation to my relationship with Kate, it's my most recent benchmark. And I go back to what I told Bella over the weekend: everything there was a struggle. Even dealing with her friends was a chore. Here, everything is … easier.

Alistair and the "kiddo" arrive laden with trays, and all chitchat quiets down to allow them to distribute our lunches.

When they leave, Bella and Mac trade their usual lunch-related barbs, stealing French fries off each other's plates. Bella gets Mac to stop when she refuses to pass him the ketchup.

Then she turns to me. "So, I heard through the grapevine that someone has a birthday coming up."

I groan. "That would be me. How did you find that out?"'

"Oh, yeah, grumpy pants, here, hates his birthday. How come you know the date, piano girl?"

She shrugs but flashes me a mischievous smile. "Wikipedia."

"Oh, fuck. How the hell did my birthday end up on Wikipedia?"

Jake snickers. "I'm more impressed at the fact that you have a Wikipedia page."

"When a building in a war zone explodes and you're under it, you tend to make the news, pal." Interestingly, Ross is who answers Jake.

"Yeah, that'd be the gist of it."

"Sorry, Ed, I didn't mean—" Jake looks ashen as he apologizes.

I wave him off. "It's a known fact, Jake. I can't run from my past any more than anyone else. It happened. I just don't like making a big deal out of my birthday."

Bella turns to me with a concerned frown. "Why?"

I grasp her hand and squeeze her fingers while I reply, keeping my gaze on her. "For the longest time, I didn't have anyone to spend it with, baby." Forgetting that we're at a pub table with a handful of friends, I end up kissing her forehead.

"Well, now you do. Let's do something together."

"Define together," I reply, popping a French fry into my mouth.

"I don't know, nothing involved. All of us, dinner?"

I debate for a minute. "It was nice to have everyone over at Easter. Let's do that again. I'll ask my parents. Want to bring Seth, Jake?"

"You sure? You don't have to cave because of us."

I nod. Bella squeezes my thigh under the table, giving me a knowing look.

"I'm not caving because of you. Let me put it this way—it's gonna be a birthday and a 'sorry I was a dick to everyone for two weeks' kind of dinner. How's that?"

They all burst out laughing. Then Jake says, "Yeah. That'll work. Where?"

Bella turns to me again. "Wisteria House?"

"Wisteria House it is. June twentieth, here we go."


Next up, a birthday party!