A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts.

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Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest belong to me. All mistakes are mine.

Chapter 18 – The Bell Curve


Edward

I've known extremes in my life.

I've been at the top of the bell curve, with moments that have left me breathless and nursing an intense sense of triumph – sort of like the sensation you get when you've scaled the highest mountain. Your lungs feel close to bursting, chest expanded by breaths so full of air that you're sure that at any moment, you'll take flight off that mountaintop. You can't imagine drawing in one more lungful because the adrenaline rush from each fought-for inhalation is so intense, so thrilling, you're sure you'll burn to ashes.

I've also known moments at the point of the scale where the bell flatlines. The physiological reactions tend to mirror those at the top of the curve. These moments also left me breathless. But instead of lungs close to overflowing, my lungs felt closed off, so constricted that I would've bet my chest had collapsed, concaved, ribs scraping against spine. And yeah, it felt like scaling a mountain – by its jagged cliffside, each perilous grip, each next breath a struggle through meager, thin, and cold air that filled the compressed space between my chest and ribcage with scorching ice.

So, yes, I've known extremes.

For a long while, I thought I was done with them. After all, what can be more exhilarating than watching a new life take flight or, conversely, more painful than watching a still young life succumb? I'd traversed the scale from end to end, and I was prepared to live the rest of my life in that space mid-bell curve, where the acute spasms, in either direction, were a thing of the past. I thought I was ready to rest my head on my pillow at night and relive those breath-stealing highs and lows, the good and the bad, truth or lies for better or worse, knowing I'd once been there.

Or rather, I wouldn't say I thought myself done with them, more like they'd been concentrated to one source: my son, Tristan. He'd be the sole eye of any future elation or storm. All other sources of highs or lows were relegated to second-hand experiences felt on behalf of others, through the experiences of family and friends. Not through my experiences.

Then, I arrived in Forks.

I met a woman who'd scaled the ups and downs of her bell curve…yet now she scaled her own corner of the Olympic Mountain Range. Like a wild goddess, she rode every storm with a triumphant smile. Like a tempest, she laughed with her entire being. And like guiding lights, her dark eyes belonged up in the night sky.

And just like that, I found myself ready to scale up that bell curve all over again.

OOOOO

"Godpop and I found Mars the other night. It's cloudy, but let's see, maybe if I adjust the lens a bit…"

"Take your time, sunshine."

With one eye shut, Bella peeked through the viewfinder and twisted the lens on her godfather's telescope, which Sue had thoughtfully swiped from her unaware-and-at-the-station husband and delivered for our use tonight. After Emily's undeniably tasty dinner choices were consumed along with amazingly child-free conversation, Bella and I moved on to pre-dessert stargazing. She now stood at the helm, the expert here, as she was in so much, and I happily submitted.

Because while the woman before me took charge, I stood behind her, my arms snaked around her waist, chin resting on her shoulder, breathing in the sweet scent of her skin while brushing my lips back and forth against the smooth curve leading from warm neck to her shoulder…

"Edward…" she breathed, turning her head sideways to meet me, her eyes sparkling impishly. "How am I ever supposed to find Mars like this?"

No, we hadn't seen many constellations so far, and we couldn't even blame the clouds.

"Bella…" I shook my head, "those eyes of yours are all the stars I need. And with you in that dress…I've got the sun and the constellations all at once."

She chuckled huskily, her mouth so close to mine that the sound rumbled against my lips.

"When did you become such a sweet talker? And whatever happened to the guy who called me Lumberella a few weeks ago?"

"That guy's mouth worked faster than his brain that night," I grinned, inching closer so my lips ghosted against hers.

"Just like a City Boy." She shrieked, then laughed and backed up a half-inch when I nipped her bottom lip.

"Get back over here."

"What about Mars?"

"Mars has been there for eons. It's not going anywhere now."

Her next chuckle happened against my mouth, warm breath filling me, tongue finding mine as she pivoted all the way around and wrapped her arms around my neck. At that point, Mars could've exploded for all I cared. Or would've noticed.

I won't lie; I'd been nervous when we arrived and made our way to the backyard. For a few moments, Bella had appeared hesitant, even wary, and I'd feared for a second that she was regretting our date. But when she looked at the backyard, the expression on her face was surprise followed by awe, followed by undisguised pleasure…well, there were no words to describe it accurately.

Except perhaps it could be described by saying that her expression at that moment…and this moment…with Bella all to myself under the evening sky, with her voice narrating her world for me, her warm body between my arms, and the heat of her consuming my senses…this was the type of evening that moved a man, who'd been at the middle of the bell curve, higher.

OOOOO

We sat on the deck's steps, sharing conversation between a dessert plate made of fresh-baked cookies, apple pie, and cheesecake.

I owed Emily and her group of assistants big time. Not merely the monetary value of perfectly-placed lighting, strategically-arranged flowers, and deliciously-prepared dishes. How did one even begin to express gratitude for something so invaluable?

But I'd figure that out later.

Right now, I'd agreed with Bella that the apple pie was likely the best I'd ever had. However, when she tried to tell me the cheesecake topped all others as well, I had to protest. After all, I was a New Yorker – the land of cheesecake.

"Not everything from New York is better, City Boy."

"Oh, I'm aware of that, Lumberella." I leaned in closer. "Trust me. However," I smiled, backing up, "when it comes to cheesecake, New York Style is the best."

She rolled her eyes and waved her empty hand dismissively while spooning a bite of cheesecake and then holding it to my mouth.

I quirked a brow. "Feeding me now, huh? I might get used to this."

"Shut up and open your mouth," she laughed.

"All right, Bella," I said dubiously before taking a bite, "but don't think I'm going to change my…" I chewed slowly, methodically – "Damn. All right. That is the best cheesecake."

"Hah! Told you," she boasted while popping a chocolate chip cookie piece into her mouth. "Now, wait 'til you try these cookies, but we've got to save some for Tristan because he'll love…oops."

I quirked a brow at her.

"They made me think of him!"

"So did stargazing."

"He likes the Little Dipper!"

"And the wildflowers."

"I love how he pronounces them when we're at camp – "woodflowers!"

I raised both brows.

"Okay, okay." She offered me a rueful smile, then perked up. "Hey, finish telling me the story you were telling me before about your first internship."

"Mm," I nodded and took another bite of cheesecake. "All right. So, when I found out that he was getting ready to send out the brief that I wrote," I tapped my pointer finger against my chest then rapped it against the deck space between us, "with his name signed to it, I told him if he didn't retract it, right away, I'd quit and sue his ass on my way out."

Bella paused, dessert spoon poised in midair. "Wait, this was the head partner at the firm."

"Yeah," I nodded.

"And you were an intern who hadn't taken the bar yet."

"Yeah."

"And he was the head partner," she repeated.

"Yes," I confirmed with a snort.

She held my gaze. "Let me guess. This display of balls – pardon me, of arrogance – was one of the reasons why Kate later suggested, once you passed the bar, of course, that your signature should be Edward Cullen, Esquire, Attorney-at-Law?"

My head jerked back slightly. I was surprised, but not only because Bella had surmised that fact – I supposed it was true, though that event came much later and wasn't where my mind had been at all – I was also surprised because…Bella brought up Kate's name in the conversation with ease…and I felt at ease at her mention.

Because Kate…though she'd always be a hugely important part of my life…no longer caused my ups and downs along that bell curve.

"I suppose in a roundabout way, this display may have added fuel to that argument for the signature," I smirked, loving how she teased me.

"Mhm," Bella nodded, tipping her head sideways. She held my gaze and sighed, shaking her head. "Tell me, Counselor. How do your shoulders manage to carry the weight of that big head of-"

She shrieked when I picked her up suddenly and pulled her onto my lap. The desert plate between us tumbled to the next step below and landed upside down. It had been instinctive, and for a moment, the splattered dessert was the least of my concerns while I feared that in the middle of playfulness, I'd hurt her…jostled her the wrong way…

My eyes grew wide. But then, Bella wrapped her arms around my shoulders, threw back her head, and burst into laughter.

The sound washed over me like those fiery ocean waves she mastered washing over the tide. Except, unlike the exhilarating yet cold chill those waves left behind, Bella's hearty laugh embodied warmth as it rang out in the space around us, a relatively large area that had been transformed into an intimate cove for two. Her laughter carried and melded with the lighting… the flowers…with the soothing scent of moss. She and her scent, her eyes, and her laugh buoyed me and anchored me in place.

"You think I have a big head, huh?" I growled, making her laugh harder.

"Well, I'd say two big heads at the moment."

It took a fraction of a second for her meaning to register. When it did, I buried my face against her neck and laughed at myself right along with her.

"Your saying that out loud makes the problem worse."

"Which problem? The arrogance or…"

We both chuckled, and I held her tighter…closer.

"Bella…" I breathed. "Bella, what is it that makes you so perfect? Such a…a light? Is it the mountain air? Is it…"

The moment I felt her stiffen in my arms, her chuckles evaporating, I trailed off. When I pulled back and met her gaze, she looked pale against the inky backdrop.

"I'm sorry," I said, confused. "Did I say something-"

Swallowing hard, Bella stood abruptly, gathering up the overturned dessert plate and making a shaky attempt at spooning the smashed baked goods back onto the plate. She sucked her teeth.

"I'll grab a towel from inside to clean this up."

With that, Bella made a hasty beeline for the backyard sliders. For a few seconds, I sat there, stunned into immobility by the one-eighty of the moment. The pounding in my heart no longer had anything to do with the throbbing I'd felt just seconds earlier.

And that's the thing with extremes; with the highs and lows along that bell curve. They mirror each other. And if you open yourself back up to one side, you've got to accept the other. Otherwise, you'll remain stuck in the middle.

With a deep breath, I stood and followed her.

OOOOO

In the kitchen, Bella was running a kitchen towel under the sink when I came up behind her.

"Bella, what did I say? What did I-"

"Edward…" She turned off the faucet and turned toward me. "Edward, it wasn't you. I'm sorry. It wasn't…"

"Shh." I took the wet rag from her and flung it into the sink before cradling her face between my hands. I dipped my head to her eye level. "You don't have to apologize."

"It's just…someone once said something eerily similar to me, and it just…" – she trailed off, shaking her head.

Swallowing hard, I forced myself to ask the question I knew would take me down that slope, but…I couldn't not ask. I couldn't remain in the middle anymore, not with Bella.

"Someone?"

She locked me in her fathomless gaze.

"His name was Jacob, and he was my best friend back in San Francisco." She paused, and I waited. "But…I…I had a boyfriend, and he…" – again, she shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Your boyfriend. He's responsible for your injury."

When she nodded, I drew in a breath, instinctively yet vainly trying to fill abruptly compressed lungs. When I realized the futility, I released the breath through flared nostrils. Despite the burn of fury suddenly coursing through my veins, I forced myself to remain calm, to listen to a tale I knew would take me to the very edge of that figurative cliff.

"Go on," I murmured.

"Paul…" – she spat the name, her breath escaping in one long gust as the rest of the damnable story poured out along with it. "He came home one night, and he was on something, on lots of shit, and Jake was there, and Paul thought he saw something that wasn't real, and we argued, and he hit me hard and repeatedly-"

"Jesus. Fuck."

"-and Jake tried to intervene, but Paul wasn't feeling anything, and I tried to stop him, but he wasn't feeling anything, and he hit me again, and when I came to…when I came to…" she choked, reliving her horror.

"Oh, baby."

I pulled her against my chest and held her as she shook in my arms.


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