Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
~0~
~Bella~
"You are my twin-soul. I need you, I love you, with everything I have."
Georgia's eyes glistened with unshed tears. She knew that what he was saying was the truth, yet the thought of her family's reaction, the dread she felt at the thought they could stop her from seeing him – it was all she could think about. Nicholas meant everything to her, but there were so many considerations, so many obstacles that would make everything a fight. Her biggest fear was that he would end up resenting her for the struggles she knew they had to face. Her mind churned through the possibilities but she couldn't comprehend how it would all work out.
"Please Georgia, I love you. We can make it work." Nicholas pressed his open palm over her heart. The look in his eyes should have been enough to melt all her fears.
He was bewildered that she looked so hesitant. Surely she could feel the love that pulsed through the air and connected them? There was no other choice as far as he was concerned. Georgia was his soul mate. He would fight for her; he would do anything so that they could be together. The urgency of his desire, the determination he felt, was tangible. They would be together, damn the consequences.
Nicholas held her tightly, his eyes pleading as he unconsciously licked his lips. "I only want you. I know you love me. I know we can make this work. Please, tell me you feel it. Tell me you can feel how much I love you."
Georgia held Nicholas close, her body couldn't react any other way, like he had some mysterious hold on her, something unexplainable that made touching him the most blissful sensation her mind and body had ever experienced. She slowly covered his hand and then raised it to her lips.
Nicholas could see her resolve falter.
"Do you believe in destiny?" he asked. "Do you believe that two people are meant to be together, no matter what?"
I hurriedly pushed my makeshift bookmark in between the pages and closed the book for the second time.
My head was like a block of concrete; tears dripped down my face and neck. I sat up in bed to reach for a tissue and the book dropped to the floor with a muted thud.
Serves me right for reading trash chick lit!
But I was hooked - the more I read the more I could imagine Edward as Nicholas. I could hear his voice as he said the words to Georgia –and yes, I still pictured the heroine as Rosalie. I couldn't bear to read any more of the book tonight. I wiped my eyes and blew my nose.
It's just a story!
I switched off the lamp by my bed. The refracted light coming from the street light made the room seem abnormally bright for this late hour. Charlie had gone to bed at least a couple of hours ago. I had tried to sleep as well, but my mind was awash with thoughts, I couldn't switch off, that's why I had continued reading in the hope I could relax into sleep. It hadn't worked; it had the opposite effect instead.
I lay unmoving, thinking about Edward, thinking about my trip back to Vancouver. My mind raced thinking about Episode, about Charlie and Elaine and meeting Eric. I knew I had to call Angela to tell her I wouldn't be back in time for our lunch date, and I needed to drop in on Kate and Garrett to say hello and return the little blue cooler bag that Kate had packed my Aussie breakfast in. I thought of driving to Great Lakes cabin on Thursday morning, and the things I'd need to take with me.
It was a fitful night of light sleep. I woke several times with the sheet twisted in a bunched mess around my legs. When exhaustion finally took over, my dreams were vivid. They were of Edward whispering in my ear, telling me that I was his, that I belonged to him. He was needy and desperate and I was motionless and cold. He touched my face, ran his long fingers through my hair. He kissed me, but I didn't move, I was like a statue, as if my skin was cold marble and his words were muffled and confusing.
His touches became more erratic as my lack of response made him frustrated and more demanding.
"I love you Bella. Everything will be OK as long as I have you," he moaned as he kissed me.
Then, like a pin bursting a balloon, my statuesque form exploded and I was kissing him back passionately; hands, tongues, bodies melding together in a blissful sensation.
The details of the dream illuminated. Edward was standing in my little kitchen in my Sydney apartment. His touch felt familiar, warm and sensual. He was caressing me; he was slowing stripping pieces of my clothing from my body.
I woke up, panting, aroused and disoriented.
I was still in my old bedroom in Forks, but the details of the dream were still there. I knew why.
I had tried not to, but since finding my teenage diaries thinking about Riley was inevitable. My attempt to blank out the memories wasn't working. Besides, why should I blank them out? I had loved Riley, I'd been happy, once. Did I need to taint that memory simply because he hadn't felt the same? My eyes closed and I remembered back to a particular day.
Maybe remembering would help me to move on. It was a day in Sydney, three years ago.
I'm sorry, emergency meeting. I'll be over after 11. Love you.
I smiled as I read Riley's text, the display telling me it was 9:08pm. I placed my phone down and stared at my book, knowing I would wait up for him no matter how long it took him to get home.
It had been only six weeks since I'd basically thrown myself at him and declared my love. Six blissful weeks with Riley, the boy I had coveted since I was fourteen. We'd spent almost every night together; just the thought of him coming home to me made me grin and squirm. I couldn't read any more, instead I lay in bed, staring out the window at the city skyline and reliving every blissful moment of lovemaking and talking and listening to music together.
We never went out, we just basked in our alone time. We explored each other's bodies.
Riley's emergency meetings were happening more frequently. He was working for Victoria's father. Mick Marshall owned a national civil engineering firm, and he had been a little under the weather recently. Riley told me working at Marshall's was a short term thing as far as he was concerned. He wanted to save up some cash and go back to University to keep studying for his visual arts degree. Now he had recovered from the motorcycle accident he wanted to get on with life. He never really talked about the particulars of his work; he would only ever tell me that Victoria's father was a great guy but the job wasn't what he wanted. He was desperate to get back to painting and sculpture, that was his passion and that's what he wanted to be doing. The job with Victoria's father was just a means to an end. He couldn't resume his studies until February, so he'd decided he may as well work up until then.
I reached over to pick up Riley's notebook that he always left by the bed. The sketches were all of me, naked, beautifully rendered in smudged 2B pencil and simply breathtaking. I jumped when my phone chirped and vibrated.
I need you Bella, so badly. I'll be there in 10.
My body automatically responded to the words in his text. I was anxious and wanting. I slipped off the bed and walked to the kitchen to pour myself some cold water.
I spent a while standing in the kitchen, imagining how it felt to wake up in his arms. I recollected our first night together, his beautiful words, the gentleness of his touch, the burning, almost painful longing that encompassed me when he had to leave the next morning. I slowly sipped some more water as I recalled how it felt to shower with him, the excitement I felt whenever he let himself into my apartment with the key I had given him.
As if he had read my mind I heard the key in the lock and the door flew open. My body trembled with need as I placed my glass down.
"Bella," he sighed as he embraced me, his mouth urgent, his tongue desperate. He kissed me like he hadn't seen me for weeks. I wasn't complaining. His hands slowly slid down to my bum, as he squeezed and moaned, pushing me against the kitchen bench, his hands roaming all over my thin satin nightgown.
"I missed you," I whispered.
Riley pulled back to look at me. His eyes searched my face, his expression changed minutely, but before I could decipher it, he was kissing me hungrily again, his warm hands snagging into the waistband of my undies as he pushed them down passed my thighs. They fell to the floor.
I started giggling in between his kisses, my hands on his jaw, and I kissed him back with as much passion as I could. I felt Riley's fingers slowly stroke me and one slid into me, deeply. I couldn't help but moan and push my body against him.
"You're always so ready for me," he panted then he removed his hand.
I was going to suggest we move to the bedroom, but before I knew what was happening Riley lifted me onto the kitchen bench. He had unzipped his work pants and I felt him push against me, his hands surrounding my hips as he pulled me forward.
He'd never been this desperate for me before.
Riley was suddenly inside me, and he started thrusting with long firm strokes that had my thighs quivering instantly. One of his hands was supporting my bum, the other was weaving itself into my hair, a thumb lightly brushing my ear as his passionate lips covered mine. I was so awash with sensation that it took me a minute to understand why it felt so enjoyably different, better than it ever had.
He forgot the condom!
"Riley," I breathed. My head was spinning. I knew I should stop him, but my body wanted to enjoy the sensation for a while longer. I had hooked my arms over his shoulders, my legs wrapped around his thighs. His kisses never stopped. I didn't want him to ever stop.
Then I felt him twitch and heard him grunt. His lips slipped down to my neck. I knew, by the guttural sounds he was making, that he was enjoying this as much as me, and that he would come.
"Riley, you have to stop," I moaned. "You can't come. The contraceptive I'm taking won't be effective for another week." I panted.
He instantly stilled his movement and pulled back to look at me, confusion turned to anguish. His beautiful face contorted with disappointment. He dropped his forehead onto mine.
"I'm so sorry, I forgot. I'm not - I hate using condoms," he said breathlessly.
A vision of Victoria flashed through my mind. Did he use them when he dated her?
Riley pushed one last time inside me, groaned then pulled all the way out. Holding me closely, he said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."
"It's OK," I whispered.
"I don't want to be thinking about anything like that when I'm with you," his hand cradled my jaw and he pulled back to look into my eyes. "I love you Bella. Everything will be OK as long as I have you. If I'm with you, I can deal with all the other shit."
"What shit? Work?"
He smiled sadly at me, but didn't say anything.
"You don't have to bottle it all up. You can tell me," I said, my fingers playing with his hair. "I wanna know. Maybe talking about it will help."
"You are my refuge away from that part of my life. I don't want to talk about...I just want..."
Riley made sure I was properly seated on the bench, kicked off his boots and pulled off his work pants, underwear and socks. He pulled his shirt over his head without undoing the buttons then, when he was completely naked, he pulled me up against his chest and carried me into the bedroom.
"What did I ever do to deserve you?" he said as he sat me on the bed. His lips were on my mouth again. He slowly tugged on my nightgown, inching it up and peeling it over my head. "You're all I want. Everything else doesn't matter when we're together. When I'm with you, I can blank all that work and family shit out." He fumbled for a condom in the bedside table drawer, expertly rolled it on and crawled up the bed to hover over me.
"I love you Bella," he whispered as he stared into my eyes.
I saw it, I felt it. It was real.
"I love you too, forever," my hands ran over his smooth hairless chest. Then I touched his jaw. He was adorably sexy, his full lips were slightly cracked from working outdoors, his soft skin with the days growth felt rough, like his hand that clenched my waist.
"Can I ask you something?" I whispered.
He looked worried, his body stiffened minutely, and I watched perplexed as he swallowed. He's nervous?
"What is it?" he asked with concern.
I couldn't help but smile. He thought I was going to ask him something about work?
"Take me...back into the kitchen," I could feel myself blushing, "I want you there."
He responded with a relieved gush of air from his lungs followed by a sly grin as he lifted me and carried me back to the kitchen bench.
I snapped myself out of the recollection.
Riley. His love for me felt so real. But it wasn't. He'd lied – lied so well.
His words about his work and 'family shit', reminded me of Georgia and Nicholas' plight in the novel. I knew that Riley had never gone back to his studies. I knew he had continued to work for Victoria's father, and I knew Mick Marshall had been sick. I thought back to Jessica's email, she said that Mick had died and Riley had split up with Victoria only a few short weeks after.
I didn't understand why Riley had lied to me, told me he loved me every day we were together, when he'd still been in love with Victoria. I felt sad knowing that it hadn't worked out for them; that they were no longer together. I wonder if she ever found out about me?
I also wondered what Riley was doing now. Did he continue to draw and paint? Did he still play tennis on the weekends? Did he ever buy that Ducati that he wanted; in fact did he ever ride a motorcycle again?
I heard the phone ring downstairs. I couldn't move; I didn't want to answer it. I blanked out the incessant shrill sound.
Riley, wherever you are, I hope you can be happy.
I had to let the pain go. I had to move on once and for all. Angela's words suddenly popped into my consciousness…"So, perhaps the reason you keep thinking about him is because you have unresolved feelings? Sounds like you didn't get any closure, Bella. Maybe you need to work through your feelings before you start another relationship."
~0~
~Edward~
My head was pounding. I didn't want to open my eyes. I fucked up last night. I should have stayed sober and in control. I could have had Bella's number, I could have called her in Forks, I could have told her.
Mom.
I opened my eyes and looked at the time. It was 4:07am.
Fuck! I had to be up and at the airport to fly to New York. I knew it was too early to call Mom and beg profusely for her to give me Cheif Swan's phone number. Maybe I can call her as soon as I land and call Bella then?
The packing, showering and the drive to the airport was a mindless necessity. I thought of Bella the whole while. I listened to her playlist, playing a particular song on repeat. I tried to think of the words I would need to tell her how I felt, what I felt for her. I kept hearing Jasper's and Alice's argument for and against telling her about Alice's dream.
If I could just see her, touch her. I was convinced she'd want me to, but then I berated myself for being so arrogant and self-assured. What if she doesn't want to be with me?
I saw Rosalie briefly as we walked through the terminal. I blanked out the paparazzi and fans; my mind had one focus - call mom and convince her I was in a fit and sober state to speak to Bella. I waited until I was in the chauffeured black car, before I called mom's cell.
"Hello?"
"Mom, it's me."
"Good morning Edward." she said expectantly.
"I want to apologize for last night. I'm sorry, you were right. I've just landed in New York, and my day is going to be frantic. I just - please mom, I'm desperate. I'm begging you to give me Chief Swan's number." I sounded pathetic.
"Alright Edward, I'll give you the number. I just hope that if you do speak to Chief Swan you'll be respectful and explain that you got his number from me and that I would never give it out to anyone else, but as this is a special circumstance -"
"Mom, I love you. I want to call her now." I didn't hide my excitement or desperation.
"OK, Edward, I'll text you the number. Have a great day, call me when you get back to Vancouver honey, OK?"
"Yes, mom, thanks!"
I ended the call, holding the phone and willing mom's text to come through. I heard a sniff, and I looked across at Emmett. He was smirking at me. My phone chirped. The number.
I love you mom!
I took a calming breath. My palms were sweaty. I tapped on the number to call. It seemed like forever until the line clicked and the phone was ringing, and ringing, and ringing.
No answer.
I ended the call and slumped in my seat.
"You've got it bad, haven't you?" asked Emmett.
"Yes." I said forlornly.
"So, what's the deal? I thought you said you shouldn't get intimate with her anyway? She's with someone else?"
"No, she thinks I'm with someone; we had a kind of, well actually she interpreted something incorrectly."
"Like what?" he sounded genuinely curious. "I mean, come on Edward, she obviously likes you or why would she have taken you on that date to the club? What happened?"
I shoved my phone back in my jeans pocket, remembering how Bella took me to Laurent's, in secret. I suppose it was kind of like our first date. I would give anything to be back there, on that night. I should have told her then. I grabbed two handfuls of my hair in frustration.
"Rosalie chose the night I was going to tell Bella how I felt about her to barge into my suite and...well, Bella now assumes all the fucked-up media reports of Rose and me being an item are true."
"And you didn't explain?" he queried.
"I didn't get a chance; she left the hotel. She went to visit her dad. She's left me a couple of voice messages, but now her cell is off and I can't reach her. I've just tried to call her dad's house, but there's no answer."
"I don't get it. Why would she believe that you and Rose, I mean...seriously?" he scoffed.
I didn't want to tell Emmett about Rosalie's intentions to hire him for her personal services. The audacity of her even contemplating it was just so typically...Rosalie. I remembered back to my conversation with Tanya last night and was reminded of the shocking similarities of Rose's recent behavior. No matter how much irritation she caused me, daily, there was no way I could stand by and watch her turn into another Tanya Denali.
"It was something Rosalie said that Bella misinterpreted. All that matters is that I tell Bella the truth." I looked out the window, admiring the view as we got closer to Manhattan.
I needed to have a one-on-one discussion with Rosalie. I needed to warn her about the games her agent and manager were playing and try and get her to think critically about where her career would go if she started to fast-forward from wholesome teen idol to sexed-up blonde bimbo.
"Do I get any time alone with Rosalie today?" I asked Emmett.
He looked shocked, and then his brow furrowed and he reached into his carry-on to pull out what I assumed to be my itinerary.
"Not really, unless you can talk to her in private at the premiere after-party. Heidi wanted you both to walk the red carpet together, but John told her 'no' and Royce said he didn't care either way."
"Royce," I spat. I'd met him several times before. He was one of those fake and slimy managers that would tip off the paparazzi, leak stories and filming location's to the press and do it all with a fake grin and a casual attitude that no one questioned.
"I suppose that fucker is going to be there tonight?"
"Yeah," said Emmett. "What's going on, Ed?"
I knew Emmett had no interest in my little crusade to educate Rosalie in the hopes she didn't let assholes such as Royce King completely fuck up her career, but I filled him in anyway, citing my justification and observations when it came to Tanya, and the way she had painted herself into a corner when it came to her career, or lack thereof.
I didn't mention Rosalie's designs on him. Emmett was a great guy, he was humble and loyal. He wouldn't be interested in a stuck-up spoiled brat and social climber like Rose.
"I think that's a great idea Ed. Some of the things Felix has told me about that douche King make my skin crawl. I'd like to help if I can, because I'd hate to see her exploited, you know."
I smiled at him, and we discussed some way he could speak to Felix and somehow arrange for Rosalie and me to have some time alone at the after-party. I had no idea what I would have to say to her to explain why I thought it necessary to butt into her career, but I had the whole day to think about it.
I tried Chief Swan's number again. Still no answer.
The day went slowly; pre-recorded TV appearances, another quick studio photo shoot. By the time we were whisked back to the hotel to get ready, I had tried calling Chief Swan's number ten times - still no answer.
The red carpet walk was invigorating. I got to speak to and sign autographs for fans, I got to do a few red carpet interviews as Heidi shadowed me and prodded me left and right. I was at ease and focused because I had a specific goal and the phone in my pocket was like my lifeline to Bella. I knew someone would have to answer the phone eventually. I knew as soon as I was inside I would try again.
Emmett had spoken to Felix and suggested that we do the red carpet and watch the first fifteen minutes of the film before slipping out the back exit to go to the hotel that the after-party would be hosted at.
Everything went according to plan and suddenly I found myself being escorted by Emmett through the hotel to an ante-room at the after-party venue.
When Emmett opened the door I saw Felix instantly. Rosalie was sitting on a low chaise; she looked stunning, with a glass of champagne in one hand and sending a text message with the other.
When she looked up, she didn't focus on me, rather her eyes took in Emmett, and I could see her instantly straighten her back and smile. Her face didn't give it away, but the tips of her ears –the only place she probably didn't have make-up on –burned a deep flushed pink. Now I had worked out why it had been so easy to get her here – she thinks I've agreed to 'give' her Emmett.
I noticed Felix tipped his head in Emmett's direction and they silently left the room, leaving me alone with Rosalie, whose face broke out in a triumphant grin.
Oh great, this isn't going to go well.
"Hi," I said cautiously.
"Hi Edward," she replied in a confident and smug tone.
I sat down next to her on the chaise. How do I do this? Honesty is the best policy.
"I wanted to talk you, uninterrupted. Thanks for agreeing to leave the movie early and everything." I said, with a smile. "I think I just need to put this all out there and hopefully you'll understand why I need to say the things I need to say."
She gave me a puzzled look and took a sip of her champagne.
"I'm worried for you." I said as I took her hand. I was determined not to sound patronizing. "I know the last two years have been a steep learning curve for both of us. I admire the way you've been able to deal with everything, the attention, the fame, the demands of the job; all of it. You have a great talent, you have the whole world at your feet. I'm sure you're up for long and very satisfying career."
She was frowning at me, perplexed. I knew this is not what she was expecting from me.
"I ran into my ex-girlfriend at the launch party last night," I went on. "You remind me a lot of her. She had talent, she had determination, she could have done anything, but she let other people stick their noses into her career and she took their really bad advice. I'd hate to see that happen to you. The Hollywood parties, the endorsements, the risqué photo shoots. I think Royce is deluding your perception and downplaying what you're capable of, and I want to –"
She whipped her hand from mine and placed her champagne glass on the table. She returned my gaze with a scowl. Her hand was trembling.
"I'm not going to discuss this with you now Edward. I want you to call Emmett back in here and tell him he needs to quit working for you so I can hire him immediately. You can have Felix; he's more than capable of protecting you from all your pretty fan girls."
"I'm not doing that Rosalie," I said, doing my best to keep calm. "Listen to what you're saying. Emmett's not an object; he's a person who makes his own career decisions. He's not a puppet, he's a human being, and he'd be horrified if he knew you wanted to make him your personal property. Can't you see how they've brainwashed you into to thinking it's OK to treat people that way? Come on Rose, this is not really you."
She looked down, her hands clutched together. She was taking in slow deep breaths.
"I want to help Rosalie. I can't just sit back and let them poison your mind. I can't let them make you think you won't have a career in a few years and push you to do something stupid for the sake of selling more magazines. Think about it Rose, think about all the advice Royce has been feeding you lately. He has his own agenda; he's not looking out for your best interests."
She wouldn't look up at me. Her phone chirped and she reached for it and glanced at the message, typing a response quickly then placing the phone on the table.
"And what's your agenda Edward?" She looked at me defiantly, her ears flaming red her control about to snap. "Why would you even want to get involved in my career and how I conduct myself? What's in it for you?"
"I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't try to help you," I protested. "I don't want to see you end up on some failing sitcom while talentless socialites like Zafrina Yolanda get the types of dramatic movie roles you should be cast in. I know you act tough, because it's a male dominated world and you need to be seen as strong, but you don't have to come across as an unfeeling ball-breaker to get ahead. I know you have so much more inside you to give. Why would you suppress that, why wouldn't you use it? And why not tell exploitive money hungry assholes like Royce King to stick it."
We sat in silence. I took it as a positive, she hadn't started yelling and shouting at me. Maybe my words were getting through?
She shifted her body towards me, her hands were still shaking and she seemed conflicted.
"It's too late, Edward. I've done the photo shoot, I've already signed on to promote that bottled water. Royce says he may be able to get me a part in the new Scorsese film if I do what he says and I told him I would."
"Stand up to him Rose, he works for you. Fire him; there are plenty of managers out there that can work with you to go the way you want. You don't have to downplay your talent to make them money, and you sure as hell don't need them to get a movie role!"
Her phone chirped. "Maybe one day you'll understand. I can't back out now. And Edward – I'm sorry."
I looked at her in confusion then she sighed and picked up her phone, typed in something then placed it on the table. She reached out to give me a hug. I hugged her back.
"I don't understand Rose. There's nothing for you to apologize for."
I heard the door open, Rosalie held me tightly. "Yes," she breathed in my ear. "There is…"
All of a sudden her hand went onto my groin, her lips pushed forcefully into mine, her other hand was on my neck pulling me into her desperate kiss.
I heard the machinegun firing of the camera shutter as I tried to pull away and shield my eyes. I was frozen in a daze as I saw the photographer grinning and smirking, Rosalie still latched on to me and trying to bury her head in my chest.
"Emmett!" I yelled for him, but he never came and then the realization hit me. This was a set up. This is what she was apologizing for. I forced her away from my chest to look at her, aghast when I saw she'd pulled her dress up to her thigh and ruffled her hair, as if we'd been in a more intimate embrace before the photographer 'caught' us.
I stood up, fuming with anger as the photographer continued to capture everything. I lunged for the camera but he skidded off, holding his camera high, facing me as he hurried out the door, the shutter still firing at ten frames per second.
The rage I felt was indescribable. My head pounded, my fists clenched.
I looked down at her. She held her head high as she straightened her dress and tried to fix her hair. Her cool unaffected mask had returned.
Emmett burst into the room, his eyes absorbing the sight before him.
He looked at me pointedly, and he didn't look happy.
"Paparazzi," I stated coldly.
I looked at Rose. "I hope that was worth the trust you just threw out the fucking window Rose. You can go to hell."
I turned and walked out.
~0~
Chapter End Notes:
My thanks to CandyTwi - awesome beta and friend.
Sorry for the late update…sorry for the bland author note. My mind is still reeling seeing Robward in white on the beach...turned me into a wobbling mess I don't think I'll ever recover...
No, wait that's not true. I will recover enough to start on Chapter 23...
As always, I love to read your thoughts : )
Luv BBxx
