A/N: Happy Halloween! Y'all narrowly missed an early surprise update. I'd already decided to post on Thursday in honor of the Royals if they won the World Series. But, alas, Beauty won out over Heart in this instance. Seriously, those Giants players are ridiculous eye candy. So, the point is I am updating as planned. But because I was wasting my time watching the World Series, I didn't reply to many reviews. I'm really sorry, and I'll try to do better this chapter.
Thanks to my pre-reader, Cejsmom. I really needed handholding this time. Without further ado…
Chapter 18
I met Esme at the Le Peep just off Greenbriar Drive on Saturday morning. She gave me a quick hug, and we made small talk while we ordered. The waitress brought our coffee, which I gulped gratefully. Lack of sleep had become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Finally, Esme moved onto heavier topics.
"Bella, I just wanted you to know that I'm no longer going to pursue Carlisle Cullen. He's blown me off several times now, and I'm tenacious, but I do know how to take a hint. I won't bring him up again. But I really like you, and I plan to make lemons out of lemonade and turn you into a friend," she declared with a small smile. I had to chuckle at her phrasing.
"Carlisle seems to be having a hard time at the moment, so that's probably best," I told her. I couldn't believe what an idiot he was, but I would honor his wishes nonetheless. "And I'd be pleased to have you for a friend, but only if you tell me where you shop. Your clothes are fantastic!" I'd been dying to ask her that since I first met her. She blushed slightly and looked down at the table.
"Well, I actually make a lot of the stuff I wear myself. I have a home design business, but I do a little fashion design on the side. I know my way around a sewing machine," she told me modestly. I was seriously impressed.
"Wow, you should consider selling your clothing designs, too," I encouraged. "And, I'm planning on buying a new place when I graduate in a few months. I'll probably need to hire a designer for that. I'm hopeless when it comes to creativity. I'm strictly a science girl," I admitted.
"I'm too busy with the home design right now to focus on the fashion side, but I'm growing, so you never know," she said. "But I'd have enough time to help you with your new place. That's got to be really exciting. So, you're definitely staying in Houston?"
"I hope so," I said with a smile and a nod, but her questions caused me almost crippling panic. I had no idea where I stood with Baylor and Carlisle at this point, and I needed to talk to Edward. I forced myself to take a deep breath and focus on the good company.
I made it home early afternoon. Esme had begged me to play tennis with her that afternoon, but I'd flatly refused. I was too keyed up to spend any length of time in another person's presence. Not to mention that I hadn't played tennis since one of my required PE courses as a Rice student. When Local on the 8's started its lounge music for the third time, I realized I'd been staring blankly at the television for too long. I couldn't live like this. I resolved to call Edward and hash this out now.
I punched the remote to turn off the TV and reached for my cell phone on the end table. I scrolled to his name in the contacts list and stared at it for a minute. I put it back down. I got up and went into the kitchen for a glass of water. Then, I sat back down with the glass next to me. I picked up the phone again, willing myself to be brave enough to punch that call button. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and moved my thumb, and…
There was a loud knock on my front door. I let out a yelp and dropped the phone on the carpet. I put my hand on my chest in an effort to steady my breathing. I put a shaky hand down to pick up the phone, clicking to return to the home screen. I didn't need to make that call. I had no doubt who was on my doorstep. Another knock echoed through the room. I forced my trembling legs to carry me to the entryway. I checked the peephole.
Edward stood just outside leaning one hand against the door with his head down. He was running his other hand through his unruly hair. He was dressed in low-slung jeans, a fitted black t-shirt, and, of course, flip-flops. I was seized by a flood of memories from the previous times he had shown up like this.
I remembered Christmas Eve, when he'd refused to take no for an answer, and we'd gone to Kemah to watch the boats. I flushed when I recalled how drunk I'd gotten, and how beautiful he'd looked in my bed the next morning despite my mortification.
I remembered the night he'd frantically arrived at my door after his parent's dinner party. I flushed for a different reason when I thought how he'd rushed in and engulfed me in his arms, how he'd physically demonstrated his feelings to me for the first time. I was forced to take a deep breath when I thought about how perfectly we'd moved together, how our naked skin felt sliding against each other.
Edward knocked again and woke me from my reverie. I pulled myself together as best I could. I didn't need to be thinking about that when he saw my face. This talk would obviously be a serious one. But I smiled a little because it was just like the old him to show up like this. I turned the knob and pulled open the door before he could knock again or leave, all while carefully schooling my features.
"Hi, Edward," I greeted him with a smirk before he could say anything. "Fancy meeting you here. I guess showing up at my apartment is kind of 'your thing,'" I quipped. I was surprised how calm and collected I felt. He ducked his head sheepishly. He looked even more delicious up close and with the door open.
"Hey, Bella, I hope it's not a bad time," he asked more nervously than I'd heard him since we'd reconnected. The part of me that had reacted indignantly in the lobby of the VA earlier this week was glad to see it. The rest of me wanted to comfort him, but I interlaced my fingers behind my back and stepped away from the door.
"Well, you caught me about to wash my hair," I teased, "but I can probably hold off for a bit." I beckoned for him to follow me inside. He paused just inside the door and glanced around.
"It hasn't changed much," he observed. Our eyes met and held. The temperature ratcheted up several degrees in the small space.
"No, it hasn't," I agreed, my voice heavy with unspoken meaning. His face crumpled, and he let out a shaky breath. He glanced at one of my dining room chairs.
"Can I sit?" he asked hopefully. I nodded, and he gripped the wooden chair by the back and pulled it out and turned it toward the living room. He collapsed on the seat, and I wisely moved into the living room and sat on the edge of the couch, facing his direction. We were only separated by several feet of space, but it felt like a great distance.
"I have a lot to say," he announced as he leaned his elbows on his jean-clad knees. "Is that all right? I can come back later, or we can meet somewhere else if you'd rather do that." I was surprised by his attitude. He was behaving as if I was the wronged party, and he needed to make something up to me. I didn't know what to make of it.
"No, I have the rest of the afternoon free. I've been anxious to hash this out. It's been a long week," I told him, raising my chin just a little bit. He looked even further chastened and dropped his head to stare at the carpet between his knees. But then, he took a deep breath and looked up directly at me.
"The first thing I need to do is apologize to you," he said, steadily keeping eye contact. His expression was intense, reminding me of the way he used to look at me. I re-crossed my legs to keep the thrill that threatened from emerging. "I should never have to come to the VA that day. And I never should have spoken to you that way. It was immature, and it proved you right about me in every way." I was stunned by his words. I had no idea how to respond. I gulped and leaned back against the couch. I stared at the ceiling trying to get my bearings.
"Please say something, Bella," Edward finally pleaded. I shook myself out of my stupor.
"I don't know what to say, Edward," I told him plainly. "I thought you hated me. I've spent the last six years thinking that. I should have told you what was happening with my resident back then. If I wanted to keep you, I should have told you how much you meant to me, that I loved you." I cringed at my verbal vomit. Telling your ex-boyfriend that you were in love with him was always a great conversational piece. Edward drew in a shocked breath, and I further regretted what I'd just said.
"You loved me?" he asked in amazement. I turned to stare out the sliding glass door on the other side of the living room in order to avoid his gaze.
"Yes," I said quietly. "But I didn't know how to say it or show it. Edward, you were the mature one, not me. It makes me cringe how self-righteous I was about our age difference. I haven't thought of it once since I saw you again," I turned back to him as I repeated to him what I'd thought in my head a million times. His gaze was horrified, and he shook his head back and forth in disagreement.
"That's just not true, Bella. How can you say that after how I treated you? I humiliated you in public, and then, I didn't return any of your calls. All over a petty disagreement," his voice dropped, and his head hung back down. He ran his hands over his hair again, and it stood up in spikes. I longed to run my fingers through it, but that sentiment was definitely inappropriate right now.
"I don't think it was petty, Edward, and I stopped calling you, too. It was a two-way street," I argued. It was odd how I was channeling Rosalie right now. I'd heard her two cents on the "two-way street" concept about a billion times. But I had to admit that Edward was making a convincing argument. Maybe I wasn't the bad guy I'd always thought.
"There's more, Bella," Edward muttered toward the carpet. "I was going to call you. I planned to do it, in fact. I listened to all your messages and apologies, and I knew I was wrong." He wasn't looking at me, but I was staring at the top of his head. I said nothing and just waited. Finally, he looked up, and I could see that his eyes were glistening. I swallowed a lump in my throat and my head made some sort of gesture between a nod and a shake. I couldn't control my muscles. He just looked at me, his eyes conveying sorrow and shame.
"That first series, I was a maniac. I almost threw a no-hitter. Everyone was talking, and there were scouts at the games and practices. Those first two weeks were crazy. I focused on that and threw all my anger and energy into each and every pitch." He related all this is a low monotone, but his eyes gave him away; they were emerald fire. I was mesmerized and found myself leaning forward on the edge of the couch with my fingers clasped under my chin.
"But, I was miserable without you. I was no longer angry with you, just ashamed of the way I'd acted. I wanted to call you, and I was trying to get up the courage. Unfortunately, I turned to liquid courage," he let out a decidedly non-humorous chuckle and continued. "Paul was the only one home, and we had not gotten along when you and I were together, as you probably remember." I nodded to show I was paying attention and agreed.
"Well, I can only speculate that he was insanely jealous of all the attention I was getting, and he was only too happy to ply me with more and more alcohol. I got so wasted that not only did I never call you, but I missed practice the next day," he admitted shame-faced. I gasped and quickly covered my mouth, but he heard me. I knew what a big deal that seemingly small thing was.
"Coach Graham called my parents and threatened to kick me off the team, no matter who I was," Edward told me robotically. "I had to move home for a month to prove to everyone that I could handle the pressure." Our eyes met again, and the intense electricity once again hummed through the room.
"You still hadn't tried to reach me after that first day. My mother read me the riot act when I moved back home. She convinced me that I was better off letting you go, that we both had great potential that could be better realized apart. But, I never told her or anyone else exactly what I did to you that day at the VA. I'm sorry." The last part of his confession was more of a strangled choke than spoken language, and he buried his face in his hands. His words were hard to hear, but hope was blooming in my chest more and more with every revelation.
"I know," I said simply. He looked up.
"What do you mean, you know?" he asked timidly for clarification. "You know I'm sorry?"
"No," I spoke clearly. "I know that your mother told you that. I overheard what she said to you on New Year's Day," I admitted. Edward swore and shook his head.
"I suppose that figured into your decision to stop calling me after I acted like an ass?" he asked rhetorically and stood up. He ran his fingers through his hair and began pacing back and forth across the small dining nook.
"Yeah," I admitted hesitantly. I shifted restlessly on the couch and crossed my feet underneath me. "But, she was probably right, Edward," I added. I couldn't paint Elizabeth Masen as the villain in this tale. I thought about the polished, kind woman I'd met all those years ago. She had just been looking out for her only son. Edward nodded and collapsed back on the wooden chair.
"I suppose," he admitted absently. "So…" he trailed off. We both sat awkwardly silent for a bit.
"I had a long talk with Kate this morning," he broke the silence. I raised my eyebrows without comment, and I couldn't help but add a touch of bitchiness to the gesture. Edward chuckled briefly. "I told her everything," he added.
"Everything?" I queried skeptically.
"Yeah," he said huskily. "I told her about the VA back then. And I told her about our therapy sessions these last few weeks. And I told her about last Monday at the ballpark. I hope you don't mind," he said the last part with a touch of guilt.
"I don't mind," I told him. "What did she say?" He laughed and ran his palms over his face.
"She slapped the shit out of me," he said with a smirk. I choked out a startled laugh and covered my mouth. "Yeah," he nodded, "she's pretty pissed at me. I think she's pretty sorry about what she said to you the other week."
"About that Edward," I ground out, after I had controlled my mirth. "What happened with the two of you?"
"Kate is very protective. We have been friends since childhood, which I think I told you back then. When, my mom encouraged me to let you go, she also suggested that I spend time with Kate. That was the goal of the dinner party from hell, if you recall." He looked at me pointedly. I flushed knowing he was referring to that first night of passion, and I wondered if he was picturing it in as much detail as I was.
"Yes," I confirmed in not much more than a whisper. It was all I could muster. He smiled a bit sheepishly at me in return.
"I could have cared less about anything other than my baseball career at that point, so I just went along with her. I asked Kate out, and we went on a few dates. After a month, I moved back into the house with the guys, and she came over after we'd been out for dinner one night."
"I was drinking heavily, although I was more socially functional than at first, but I came onto her more strongly than she expected, and I definitely did not treat her with respect. She was horrified and told me that I was not the same guy she'd met during the holidays. She insisted that I tell her what the difference was, and I broke down and admitted it was the loss of you." His explanation of his romantic relationship with Kate was not what I'd expected to hear. It sounded essentially non-existent, but it still flared jealousy in my heart.
"Kate and I were only friends after that night. I cried for the first time, and she gave me unconditional comfort. I will never forget that she did that. She could have easily told me to go fuck myself. I was such a self-involved wreck," Edward admitted. Then, he grimaced.
"She blamed it all on you," he confirmed. "I never told her about what happened at the VA, so she just assumed that you were the one who ended it. I was so destroyed that it felt good to have someone tell me you weren't worth it, that I could do better. But I always knew she was wrong about that. I didn't think I'd ever see you again, so I didn't think I needed to correct her," Edward trailed off.
"Why didn't you say something to her, and Alice and Jasper for that matter, when you knew we would be working together?" I asked. He sighed and shame filled his face.
"I didn't know if you would want anything to do with me. I expected you to be cold and make excuses to get away from me. I expected you to hate me. But then you actually showed up at Whitlock. I should have stopped Kate when she attacked you and explained it then and there. But, I'm still an idiot when it comes to you…" he trailed off and shook his head, staring at the floor.
"Is that why you were so cocky in the office that first day? And then you wouldn't look at me when I came to Whitlock. The hot and cold routine was because you were embarrassed?" I asked for clarification. He nodded again miserably and met my disbelieving stare before quickly looking away. It was time to bring up what I'd found online. That just didn't jive with what he was saying.
"Edward, were you not engaged?" I asked, forcing eye contact again. He blinked several times, and the seconds stretched out. Finally, he took a deep breath and answered.
"Yes, I was," he admitted in a resigned tone. "Victoria Turner was her name, but I suspect you know that already."
"I googled you," I told him and felt no shame. He chuckled without humor.
"I would have told you; it's not a secret. Kate set that up, too," he defended himself.
"Did you love her?" I asked, unable to keep the tremor out of my voice. "Why didn't you marry her?" That question caused him to laugh. It was an unpleasant laugh, loud and sharp. He shook his head as if to clear the emotion away and faced me again.
"Bella, I disappointed everyone but my coaches when I left for Lynchburg and that pretty much continued through my time in Mississippi," he told me steadily.
"What does that mean?" I asked apprehensively. He stared at the floor, and his cheeks reddened. It was adorable, and I itched to cross the distance between us and run my fingers over those cheeks, but I needed to hear what he had to say. I captured my hands between my thighs to still them and stared at him expectantly.
"Well, I told you that I had a bit of a reputation before I met you," he began, and I nodded encouragingly. "Well, that was nothing compared to what I did in the minor leagues," he said quietly in an almost whisper. I gaped at him, unable to form questions. His brow creased, and he knew I needed to hear more.
"It didn't interfere with my game, but only barely. I was cruel, where I'd never been that before. I let them get their hopes up, and then, I enjoyed kicking them out of bed or telling them to get lost in some other way," he admitted. I gasped. This was something I never could have imagined from the sweet Edward that I knew all those years ago. Guilt started to creep in; he could never have been that vindictive if I hadn't treated him with such disdain. He must have recognized the look on my face because he was quick to speak up again.
"No, don't blame yourself. I see that's what you are doing," he chuckled darkly. "That behavior was all me. Kate was still in Houston while I was in Lynchburg and Mississippi, but she moved to Atlanta shortly after I did. She was disgusted by what she found. This morning wasn't the first time she's physically assaulted me, not by a long shot," he chuckled again, and it had a bit more humor.
"I cut that shit out, because once Kate was in Atlanta, I knew that if I didn't, then my mom would hear about it. And I didn't want to act that way, not really. My life, from the moment I was drafted, was all about baseball. I only cared about my game, improving my pitching, making the Majors, and then winning the Cy. My personal life was disposable. It really hit me last season when I was injured and not performing well. 2013 was supposed to be my season." He faced me with a pleading look on his face. He probably thought his confession was driving me away, but it was really only making me want him more. He was human, flawed much like me. We both spent the last several years with a single-minded focus on our careers. For the first time, I could see a future where we were equal.
"And Victoria?" I prompted. His eyes closed for a beat, and then he opened them, a determined look inside.
"Kate met her at some sort of charity event and thought we would hit it off. So, she introduced us, and I did like her," he admitted. His disclosure made my stomach roll, but he went on quickly.
"We had a fair amount in common. She played violin, so we could talk about music, and she enjoyed the symphony. It happened so fast, almost like I had no control over the situation. Our parents got along, and my mom was just so thrilled. She started dropping big hints, and my mom and Kate seemed to think it was at that point in the relationship…" he trailed off and stared at me again. I don't know if he was willing me to understand his warped process or what.
"I knew the second that I asked that I didn't want to marry her. All I felt was unease and dread, while she was celebrating and admiring her ring. As soon as she started trying to plan the wedding, I had to put a stop to it. I hate that I hurt her. But, I had repressed thoughts of you for years and suddenly they were right there again, right in the forefront of my mind," he exclaimed, surprising me. He pitched forward onto his knees and shuffled forward until he was right in front of me. He reached out tentatively and grasped my hands where they were tightly wedged between my thighs. He pulled them out and gently caressed my fingers; the electricity between us flowed as always.
"Bella, I've never left you. I've been with you through all this, and I just wasn't man enough to make it happen before. But I am now. The injury and the trade to Houston? I think it was all meant to be. Victoria woke me up, and it was only a matter of time until I tried to reach out to you. I took it as a sign that I was traded shortly after that. Baseball means nothing without you," he declared. And we stared at each other. The force of those words rendered both of us speechless. And then, I did something uncharacteristic. I burst into tears. Edward looked horrified.
"Bella, no!" he exclaimed, raising his fingers to trace the tears as they trailed onto my downturned cheeks. I shook my head to try and reassure him, but my voice failed. He didn't seem to understand my motivation, and his tears started, too.
They were falling freely from both of our eyes, and he reached out to pull my face to him. Our foreheads rested against each other, and we just stayed that way for a while. Finally, I got control of myself and pulled back a little, clearing my throat. Edward looked devastated.
"Edward, I've never gotten over you," I told him steadily, shocking myself by my ability to be truthful for once. "I loved you, and I've been hating myself for years for allowing you to go the way you did. I want another chance," I declared, maybe laying out what I really wanted from someone else for the first time. He stared at me seemingly in a daze. I giggled nervously and shook his hands where they still loosely entwined with my own.
"I do, too," he said, and it almost sounded like a question. Then, he leaned forward, capturing my mouth with his own.
My memories of kissing Edward had not done the actual act any justice. His lips met mine with some force, and he tugged on my hands, pressing them against my knees to give us some leverage. My eyes closed with pleasure, as his tongue gently teased my lips, forcing them open. When his tongue entered my mouth to lave along my own, he stood up on his knees taller and moved forward against my knees, putting his weight over me. It felt wonderful, but he broke apart too soon for my liking, resting his forehead against my own for a moment before leaning back.
"I have more amends to make," he breathed and then shuffled back on his knees so we weren't touching. It did make it easier to think. I may have grunted some sort of incoherent sound, encouraging him to speak. He sank onto the floor, crossing his legs so he hovered not far from me.
"I need to have a serious conversation with Jasper. Most of his objection to you is based on his idea that you dropped me without explanation. And then he was forced to deal with my bullshit after Kate and the draft. He's a good friend, so he wanted to blame all that on you. I'm so sorry I wasn't honest. I didn't think I'd ever see you again," he told me frankly. I nodded; it now all made sense.
"Edward, if we are going to do this, then I can't work with you anymore on the therapy," I blurted out loud, suddenly acutely aware of what was happening. He frowned and watched me carefully. "I can do Monday, since this is short notice, but after that, Jasper will have to make alternative arrangements. I'll have to tell Carlisle something," I fretted. Edward just laughed.
"If you think I'm worried about my therapy in regards to your affections, then you're just as insane as you always were," he reprimanded me, "but I understand your position. We'll work at Whitlock on Monday. I think Jasper will have some things to say to you, and the two of you can come up with something else for me."
"Edward, I don't think Jasper will appreciate me telling him what to do about your therapy," I demurred. He clicked his tongue in impatience.
"Bella, I want you involved in every aspect of my life, as soon as possible," he told me, passion burning in his green eyes as they met mine. I shivered in the face of his intensity.
"Okay," I agreed weakly, and he launched himself at me from his outpost on the floor. His hands rested on my cheeks, and he guided our faces together again. Our lips met and tangled together, and he moved himself closer to me, his knees resting against the front of the couch. We shifted, and he hovered over me pressing me into the cushions. I greedily pulled him in, enjoying the feeling of physical completeness that had eluded me all these years.
I felt his hardness against my thigh and responded with a wanton groan. He moved against me once but quickly disentangled himself. He seemed to levitate several feet away from me, and I gasped breathless and bright-eyed.
"Bella, I think we both need some time to digest the things we've said," he pleaded, and I nodded frantically but silently, still unable to form words. "Are you free after therapy on Monday?" he asked almost shyly.
"Yes," I agreed, finding my voice, grateful for his self-control. We smiled at each stupidly for longer than necessary.
"Okay, then, let's make plans to spend some time together then," he suggested.
"Okay," I agreed. We stood, both of us with obvious reluctance, and I walked him to the door. He kissed me quickly on the lips.
"If it takes me forever, Bella Swan…" he breathed as he disappeared out the door. And I was left stunned in his wake at the familiar words, more optimistic than I'd been in six years.
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A/N: Yeah. I don't have anything clever to say right now. I'll wait to hear from you…
EG