Fran betas. Dani, Ariel, and Gemma preread. You read, review, and rock!
The weeks fly by with growing ease. The air, showing no remembrance of the hot summer, chills considerably as Edward and I squeeze sessions in around his schedule and the weather conditions. I learn quickly, no matter what time of day we venture to the meadow, no amount of layered clothing or steaming thermos of hot chocolate can warm me from the cold air. I don't mind, as Edward and I usually walk in deep in conversation about what I need to work on for the next hour, and it helps to take my mind off the real reason we're out here.
I check in with Rose every few days, both of us using different burner phones as the weeks go on, and she puts me at ease whenever I remember how delicate this situation really is. It doesn't happen as often as it used to, the moments when I panic and question how safe this is for us to be doing. In those moments, I apologize to Rose for bringing her into this mess to begin with, trying to convince her to sever all contact with me completely so her life isn't at more risk than it already is.
She fills me in on what he's doing, how he lives his life as he normally does, like my leaving hasn't caused a ripple in his meticulous life. She calms me momentarily, and when she hangs up, most nights I look out my window and see the fire Edward has started in the firepit in his yard near the lake.
This calms me, as well.
Every night, we place our chairs as close to the fire as we possibly can without getting burned, sharing drinks to warm ourselves, watching the sun set as we talk the nights away.
Before we know it, it's Halloween, and I'm surprised to feel as homesick as I do. It's not like I had celebrated the holiday back home anyway. We had opened our house for the young kids of the neighborhood to Trick or Treat, always remembering the pretense we had to keep up at all times, but I wasn't the wife who baked pumpkin bread and turned other foods into Halloween-themed delicacies.
I was living my own horror story year-round; the terror of Halloween wasn't an additional aspect of fear I needed in my life.
There aren't any kids in the cabins around us, so we don't have a stock of candy ready to give out. But seeing the fall decorations in town makes me think of memories when Rose and I were kids. I remember the weight of our candy holding us down as we walked the neighborhood each Halloween, our parents carrying us inside the house when exhaustion had taken over by the end of the night.
I find the memories to be bittersweet as the days grow shorter here in Forks, especially when Edward is busy during the days making house visits to repair cars. I still walk around the property, acquainting myself with different trails, so I'm comfortable with as much of the landscape around me as possible.
Homesickness aside, Forks really is beautiful. I find myself growing more and more peaceful the longer I'm here, and with Edward's company, I can feel my feet plant themselves in this town with a purpose.
In only a little more than a month, I feel more at home than I have in my whole life in Rhode Island.
"Can you reach that bowl up top?"
Especially on nights like these, when Edward senses my homesickness and suggests we do something to celebrate the holiday, even something as small as making the brownies he had brought over the day we shared our chili.
"Probably not," I laugh, moving out of the way so Edward can reach for the large mixing bowl. When he stretches, his gray thermal shirt rises higher against his torso, revealing a tiny portion of a hard, toned stomach that makes me turn away in fear of staring.
"Here," he says, placing the bowl on the counter and then reaching for the box next to it. I watch as he scans the ingredients, talking to himself as he opens the bag of brownie mix inside.
This past month has opened my eyes to things other than shooting guns and autumn landscapes.
I've noticed the way the light of the sun catches Edward's hair in the sunsets we watch next to the fire. I see the way he smiles at my progress when he thinks I'm not watching, the way he encourages me to keep going when I want to give up. The sound of his laugh sends a tingle throughout my body, familiar and foreign at the same time.
"You pour, and I'll mix these," Edward offers, reaching for the eggs and oil and a smaller bowl.
"You sure?" I ask him quizzically, unsure where this 'confident in the kitchen Edward' has come from.
He pauses what he's doing to shoot me a baffled look. "If I trust you enough to be around you while shooting a gun, then you can trust me while I make us some brownies," he says with a crack of an egg to emphasize the point he's trying to make.
"I'm just going off what you say about being such a horrible cook," I laugh as I rip open the mix and dump it into the large bowl.
"This seems easy enough," he shrugs, finishing up the mixing of the wet ingredients before turning to dump it into my bowl of dry mix. "Oh, wait. You have something on your cheek."
It's instantaneous, a force of habit, the flinch I make when Edward moves his fingers up to wipe away the mix on my cheek.
But he sees it.
And we're silent in the kitchen, the warm atmosphere of the holiday brought to a screeching halt as my past resurfaces, no matter how hard I try to keep it at bay. I know it was Edward's hand that came to my face, but instead of a gentle touch of his fingertips, I braced myself for the pummeling of a hard fist.
"Hey," he says softly, putting the bowl down and moving his head down to my level in an effort to catch my eye. "Bella, listen to me."
I avoid eye contact completely, reaching for the ingredients and pouring them into one bowl. I mix furiously, wishing there was a way I could make everything that happened just now disappear. I'm aware of where I am, aware I'm still in my kitchen in the cabin and thousands of miles away from him.
"Please," Edward pleads, the sincerity in his voice bringing my feelings of initial terror to a stop. I can't stop the tears that fill my eyes from spilling over, though I wipe them away as quickly as they fall.
Not fast enough for Edward.
"I'll never hurt you, Bella." His voice is low, careful not to scare me as if he knows how tempted I am to run away. "I don't know what he did to you, and it's none of my business, I know that. But I'm not him. And I'll never be."
*Dreamy sigh*
See you tomorrow!