A/N: I alwasy tell myself I'd explain some backstory or answer questions and I forget which. Send them my way, I'll gladly answer in next post.
Sorry for the delay, I was trying to make these next few chaps robust for the rest of the storyline. So these are familiar chaps but have more. Next post this week.
Thanks to Patrizia and Frannie for helping out with this to make more sense of things.
Enjoy. xoxox
Previously...
"I'm leaving tomorrow," is what she says. "Last day."
His eyes drop to her lips. Bella is all elation inside at that.
"Please take care," she says with a nod.
He blinks up at her eyes and barely responds with a nod of his head.
He watches her pull that dress over her spine and the dip of her slick back. She turns knots in her hair until the droplets slow as they're wrung out.
"I'll miss you, Edward Anthony Cullen." She smiles, leaving him bewildered.
She took the Tupperware for the last time and took with her the atmosphere. He breathed a sigh of relief. A guest who overstayed.
The next summer he braces for her return, glancing at the boulders every morning, yet he never spots her there. She never comes. He doesn't know what to think.
…..
Chapter 19 - The Narrative
Edward moves on.
He works.
He tucks into his own space and routine, but he wonders and wonders. It bothers him that he does.
That girl. She didn't come.
Did she stay away for a grand plan? Will they come for him now? Did someone see her walk out of the dense woods with an expression, one he'd see over her face every day? Did they find it suspicious that she would be smiling about empty woods? She would be smiling about something or someone who put that smile there.
Girls don't walk alone in the woods.
His stomach is constantly in knots. He can't eat. He can't sleep. He takes the risk of figuring it out. He walks out of his camp every few days, but not to find food; to find answers.
The lake is occupied now. The daily routine; splashes, chatter, and bows bumping into canoes. People are having their holiday.
His sharp ears pick up conversations. All the other kids he's seen her with are there on the dock: some lounge, some dip their toes. One of them tells the other about a dying mother. They look glum. She, the spark to the party, isn't there.
Later, while staring at trees, deciphering what it all means, he figures he'd be found by now. Three seasons have passed, and he's still here. No suspicions. They'd rampage through these woods if they knew.
No. He wouldn't be free.
His heart hammers less. His appetite swells. He lays it all to rest that night. When he wakes, he starts the routine all over again. Work cannot wait. Fear will always loom.
Her father came alone. Edward notices during a daytime errand. He avoids the area after that, determined to move on.
Charlie opened up the cabin, cleaned it out, and has stayed for the summer. Edward doesn't know he came, not because he wanted to, but because he had to do the yearly routine of watching over the cabin, bring new trinkets Renee loved so much.
Charlie would never leave the cabin alone past a year. No one has forgotten about the thief who is still out there; the one who takes and never disturbs, who is blissfully ignorant of the efforts going on around him. New cabins are being built. New homes on old land. All of them are being set up with new security systems, the types Edward will soon run into and have to decipher.
He will. He always works his way around them.
July comes. Edward finds himself in front of the cabin with the swing without thought. Seeing it makes him curious. It's empty. The girl's father must be out fishing; the rods are gone from where he keeps them. Inside, the photos on the walls tell him stories. He stands there, way past his rules of time. His arms crossed over his chest, head tilted up, he follows the narrative.
The girl was at prom with that other boy he saw kiss her at the lake, like she'd escape from his grasp. Another frame is of a vacation somewhere tropical in her … swimwear. Mexico? Cancun? He realizes he doesn't know her name. Swan is etched on the front entrance. That, he knows. She was so curious about him; she never talked about herself.
His eyes roam, and there, on the far right, is her in her cap and gown. High school is far over. Friends hug her in a capture, but her eyes tell a different story. He's never seen her with that expression. He mostly remembers her curious, apprehensive, or infatuated, her lip wedged between her teeth.
He dreaded the look. Giddy is the feeling of a young girl, a child, one so sheltered, experiencing something new and exciting. He was her excitement. Excitement she couldn't wait to share with friends. But he sees now, the lip bite was her containing the feeling of attraction and awe. She was not sheltered. She was free, daring, and devious; everything he will never be.
And she kept his secret.
He takes a good look at the photo, and she's not smiling. He almost wishes the expression was fluster, just this once.
She didn't come.
Well, it's best. This is the end. Last summer was unplanned. A stranger cared to know and ask after him. It was a moment that lasted and a moment he's glad will be written down as part of his past.
He doesn't take anything, he just locks up the cabin and says farewell to a moment that came and went.
….