11

The thought of the roof and its gardens and views of the sky was no longer comforting. Instead, it made my stomach drop. My anxiety blossomed as we reached the door opening to the staircase toward the roof. So infatuated with Edward, I had forgotten for a moment how this space could possibly make me feel. Memories came rushing back, and while I tried to keep my head above the water, I found myself gasping for air as its tide slammed into me.

The events of that evening crashed like waves. The currents twisted and turned so violently that within seconds, I was gasping for breath. As I leaned back against the wall behind me, I felt myself begin to drown. The smells from the night overwhelmed me, and as I closed my eyes, I felt those men next to me again. I could still feel their breaths hot against my cheek. Their hands, rough and calloused, moved over my body, and I slid onto the ground.

Somewhere in my polluted mind, I knew they weren't next to me. The logical part of me knew they weren't molesting me still. However, all logic seemed to evade me as soon as emotions were involved, and now, my emotions were threatening to be my end.

"Breathe, Bella. Breathe."

Edward's voice was soothing—even now as the world around me seemed to shatter. Although I could feel his hesitation, his arms reached out to wrap around me. When I didn't push away, he took that as an invitation to pull me close against him. Now, smashed against the muscles of his chest, I let myself breathe.

Although my breathing was shallow, it served as a reminder that I was still alive. Despite everything, I was still moving forward. Still breathing and still, somewhat, functioning.

"It's okay. I'm here … I'm here, and I'm holding you."

Anything I wanted to say could exist unspoken. It felt like he knew everything that was on my mind anyway. Almost as if he was finding a way to exist inside my head. If I could, I would let him inside my mind willingly. It would be nice to share this pain with another person. The only thing that kept me from expressing every bit of my truth was the heaviness of that burden.

Why should I hurt him more with my pain anyway? He had been through more than enough.

"We don't have to go up there. Sorry. I wasn't even thinking. We can eat at my place. It's no problem at all."

If I wanted to move on, I had to face this. Maybe, if I found myself on the roof again, I could replace that bad experience with something good. A night with Edward could be the medicine I needed to carry on. This night could help me forget … Then, I could look at the flowers again and smile instead of finding nothing but pain.

When I regained my strength, I pulled away and shook my head. The struggle that was making my heart hurt also inspired determination. I wanted to go up there. I needed to go up there. If I could face this fear, what else could I do? This could cause me to become stronger. Then maybe, that strength could continue to grow until I was one day a normal, functioning human.

"Are you sure? You want to go up there?"

I met his gaze, feeling the challenge inspire strength. I nodded with a gaze that screamed, I want to go. Help me replace this memory, Edward.

"All right," he said as he stood and helped me to my feet. "But if there's ever a moment that you don't want to be up there anymore, let me know."

Another nod and I then turned to look at the stairway leading to the roof. I could do this. I had to.

************************************Sea Foam and Sea Witches***********************************

Chest heavy, eyes misting, and throat tightening to near suffocation, I prayed that my face could remain neutral. For a moment, I wanted to look like my world wasn't shattering. Like my life hadn't been fractured into pieces too small to put back together.

Edward could probably tell that I was struggling. Hell, he could tell everything, it seemed. Without a word, he was able to see the things I wanted him to see … along with all of the things I wanted to hide away. Nothing was a secret with him, and I loved that as much as I loathed it.

With my foot on the bottom step, I tried to rearrange my face. My twisting mouth and knitted eyebrows smoothed into something blank. I held onto the railing with a white-knuckled grip and focused on the step ahead. All I had to do was ascend sixteen steps, and I'd reach the roof's door. Sixteen steps, and I would face the spot that held memories of my voice. On this roof, I uttered my last words. Did they remain there, hovering in the air while they waited for me?

What a stupid thing to hope for …

A voice couldn't wait for anyone. Mine was long gone. Taken from me just like my innocence had been taken from me. Violently. Thoughtlessly. Roughly and unapologetically.

"Bella … we can have pizza and drinks in my apartment. Really, I don't mind."

I held up a hand to silence him. If I hadn't wanted to eat on the roof, I wouldn't have taken the first step. Not only had I wanted to do this, but I needed to do this. This wasn't for him. It was for me. Maybe this would be healing. If I faced the source of my pain, I could prove to myself that I was so much stronger than I had ever imagined.

So, I took another step. Inhale. Exhale. Another step and I was still alive. I hadn't evaporated into the air like sea-foam like my body seemed inclined to. Inhale. Exhale. I took another step. Edward hovered behind me as if he were waiting for me to faint. While I didn't turn to look, too focused on the steps ahead of me, I felt that his arms were outstretched. Silently, he supported me, letting me know he was there without pressuring me with comfort. Sometimes, that meant more than anything, being there without saying a word.

Pain was unspoken anyway. It was visceral—it was felt in the air without needing to be named.

Just feeling him behind me, with his arms stretched as he waited for me to fall, propelled me forward. Each step felt a little easier. My confidence grew—although, it never soared outrageously. Inhale, exhale, and my heart began to ease until it reached a normal pace.

For a fleeting moment, I was in control. Then, as I neared the final few steps, my confidence withered until it disappeared. Air became heavy around me, pressing onto my shoulders until my feet nearly slipped from the steps. With my breath choked in my throat, I felt myself falling—slipping away toward the bad memories that dwelled in the back of my mind, waiting to be expelled.

Just as my hands reached forward, trying to grasp at the empty space in front of me, I felt Edward's arms wrap around my waist. His grip steadied me, and within just a few moments, I was grounded. My feet were flat on the step as my eyes pricked with tears.

They were tears of pain mixed with something else. These fresh tears held the happiness that came with knowing I wasn't alone. Even if the man holding me wasn't mine—maybe, he would never be mine—he was my entire world for a moment. That moment was fleeting—rolling over my body like an ocean wave before flirting with the hot sand—but it made me feel like I could breathe without pain. Despite being in the dark, dreary staircase, I was warm in his embrace. Around him, I felt like my body was soaked in sunlight.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

I answered him by taking another step forward. Then another. And another. Until I pushed open the door marked "rooftop access." Then, I was met with fresh air and the overwhelming scent of roses. So distracted by the smell, those dark memories couldn't touch me. They remained locked away, seemingly waiting for the moment when I had my guard down or my mind wasn't so pleasantly occupied. That day would come, and I'd be ready for it.

Pain always found a way to greet me like an old, familiar friend. It touched me whenever I was alone—almost as if it expected me to stand idly by, waiting for it. Whenever pain would choose to come, I would greet it, embrace it, perhaps even sleep with it. Sometimes, it felt like the only thing I could rely on. When everything else in life managed to better deal me, pain was always there, lurking in the background of my days as it waited for its turn.

Who was I to deny it its time with me? I was lonely most days, after all.

My feet were moving, feeling so disjointed from the rest of me. Was I truly moving? Could I, as messed up as I was, manage something so simple? Somehow, I was drifting toward the flowers. Their scents were potent, and around them, I felt high.

High and detached from my body. Maybe even detached from this world. With the sky so close now, I wondered if I could reach out and feel a star against my fingertip. I tried it, letting my arm drift out and upward before my right hand pointed as if it were really trying to reach something lightyears away.

The night air met my fingertip. Embarrassed, I pulled my hand away and let my fingers move across the flower petals instead. Of course, I couldn't really touch the sky. I was probably too alive for that. However, one day, I wouldn't be. Then maybe, I'd really be able to soar.

"What are you thinking about?" Edward asked as he came to stand near me.

A smile filled with melancholy rather than pure happiness tugged at my lips. Gaze downcast, I blinked away the tears threatening to spill before looking up at him. Forgetting myself, I opened my mouth to speak and was met with dead air.

Edward's brows knitted together for a moment, seeming more frustrated with himself than frustrated with me, before he dug into his pocket and pulled out a small notebook and pen. With a guilty sort of smile, he handed them to me, and I let my hand drop from the flowers.

My gaze found his as I took the notebook from his hands and flipped through all of our previous notes before coming to find a blank page.

"I was just thinking about how beautiful it is up here. I can't believe you did all of this," I wrote before passing back the notebook.

He read it and smiled with a smile that was filled with as much melancholy as mine. In that moment, there were so many words filling the air between us, and none of them were said. Pain had a way of silencing people.

After a few moments, he turned away from me to face the garden he'd built. "It was nice to have something to do. I've always had a hard time … processing things. I just needed to stay busy."

I reached out and took the notebook from him and quickly wrote something else. "Everyone who sees it is happy. Thank you."

His melancholy smile transformed into something genuine. If only he could feel an ounce of the happiness that he gives to other people …

"I wish I could say that I thought about making others happy when I worked on this. But at the time, my thoughts were pretty singular."

Then, as if he tasted something sour, his mouth twisted into a grimace, and he lowered his gaze from mine. Annie had once told me that he constructed this space after his wife and child died. She never said much on the topic, suggesting that it was never her story to tell. Edward never spoke much about his past. Neither did I.

Those moments, which never felt as distant as we'd like them to feel, always floated in our minds but never escaped our tongues. So many horrible days were now only memories. However, their wounds felt fresh. Mine hadn't even scabbed over. There were still times when my throat itched as if I had spent the night screaming instead of breathing. There were still times when closet dust motes tickled my nose, causing me to cough as I clawed against the door, praying for an escape. The past was still here. It was still as real as I was. As I thought of it sometimes, I couldn't breathe.

Was it the same for him? The man in front of me who looked plagued by his thoughts. Edward didn't need to speak for me to understand everything he wanted to say. When he had built this garden, he had thought of his family. Were their ashes mixed with the soil? Had he left any bit of them behind?

There were so many questions I didn't ask as I followed him to a small table near the garden. Edward had crafted an arbor patio out of oak wood. Its support beams were wrapped with lights and vines. These lights continued onto the arbor arch, giving the entire garden a mystical glow against the night sky.

How could he, in his pain, create something that resembled a scene from a fairytale?

"Have a seat," he said as he gestured toward the table. Then, as if remembering himself, he shook his head and stepped forward to quickly pull out a chair from me. With a slight flush, I thanked him with a nod of my head and sat down. "I'll order whatever pizza you want," he said as he pushed my chair in. "And whatever drinks you want, too. I just want this night …" He paused for a moment as if considering whatever words he planned to say next. "I want tonight to be about making new memories."

I wanted tonight to be about that, too. Someday, I wanted to come up here without having to think about that devastating night. This space had to be about something other than pain. Everything about this space felt like Edward, after all. His energy was everywhere. Represented in every light and every flower. I wanted to immerse myself in that feeling instead. When I was with him, I felt warmth, and on some days, I wondered if only that warmth was keeping me going.

A/N: When I first started writing this one, I didn't realize it would be such a slow burn! Now we're already 40k words in and things are finally heating up.

See you next update!

xoxo