Chapter 8.
I spend the next two hours packing my things, or at least trying to. I didn't think leaving Emmett would be easy, but looking at how much the apartment reflects our relationship, makes it so much harder.
After much debating, I buy a train ticket to Frankfurt for the night, and pour my inadequate words in a letter to Emmett. It's not ideal, but there really isn't much more to say.
I need to do this.
I am doing this.
I hope in time he will understand.
Tears never stop falling from my eyes, and I make no attempt to hold them back, as I start picking up the mess of our unfinished dinner in the kitchen.
When my cell phone rings, I try my best at keeping my voice even when I pick up without looking at the screen. I hold my phone with my shoulder, while my hands are in the sink, finishing the dishes. "Hello?"
"Isabella? Hi..." His voice is soft and a little unsure. It's unmistakably him, but he still clarifies. "It's Edward."
"Hey..." is my clipped response. I shouldn't have answered the phone in the first place.
"Hey, um... I missed a call from Emmett earlier and he sounded, um, distressed? I'm trying to get back to him but he's not answering..." He's eerily calm, but his tone is hinged with a bit of worry. "Is he there? Is everything okay?"
I silently urge myself over and over to keep it together — to get through this call as quickly as possible.
Edward has no idea what went on here. He doesn't have to know.
I bite my lips as I try not to cry.
"Isabella?" The concern in his voice breaks me.
I can't do this. I can't explain. I can't lie to him. Not with the lump in my throat that makes it even harder to breath.
I decide to just hang up, and as I do, the knife I was rinsing slips from my fingers, slashing the palm of my hand open in the process.
"Shit!" The phone clangs as it falls on the floor while I rinse my hand with water. The gash seems deep, and it's bleeding profusely. I wrap a kitchen towel around it, keeping pressure on it, as I can see blood seeping through the fabric. "God!"
I sink on the floor, my breaths catching in my throat as I sob.
My phone starts ringing again but I don't answer, even as it goes off five more times.
I barely manage to calm down enough to replace the towel and call a cab. My head is swimming, but I try to focus on just getting myself in that cab and to the hospital.
I grab my purse and put the first shoes I find on. I fling the door open but halt mid-step as Edward is standing right in front of me.
"Isabella, what's-" His hand is raised in front of him in a fist, as if he was about to knock. When his eyes fly to my hand, still wrapped in a bloody towel, he sets his arm around me, and holds my hand with his other hand.
Relief washes through me for not having to do this alone, and my body just acts on its own from then on. My head rests on his shoulder and my eyes close.
He holds me tighter, taking some of my weight in his arms, and he doesn't speak as he steers me to his car, only a soft shush in my ear.
He helps me into the car, clasping the seatbelt over me. Pretty soon, we're off to the hospital and he remains seemingly focused on the road as we go. He does not say a word as he drives, leaving me to my own tears.
When we arrive, everything happens in a blur. I'm being rushed here and there, given some pills to swallow and then suddenly I'm on a hospital bed with someone stitching my numb hand.
I don't realize I'm holding Edward's hand, until I see our fingers intertwined. My knuckles are white with the force I'm using to hold on to him. My eyes find his and he smiles shyly at me. It's a friendly smile, but I can see it in his eyes, he's uncomfortable.
I release the death grip on his hand and he exhales, taking a step back.
The resident finishes my hand and says he'll give me a little time, to make sure I'm not faint anymore, so they can let me go.
When he leaves, my eyes find Edward, who has now put the biggest distance the room allows between us. He leans against the wall, one hand on his hip. He looks exhausted.
It's only then I realize he has played a game today, and yet he's here, taking care of me at this late hour in the night.
"Hey, um... Emmett will be here any second," I lie. "He was out with... um... Riley. But he's on his way now. It's okay, you should go." I can still feel the tears prick the corner of my eyes.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He seems uncertain, like he doesn't know what to do. It's obvious he needs to go.
I try nodding, but I'm failing once again at keeping my tears away.
"Why are you still crying?" He comes closer, one hand on my cheek as his thumb wipes away my tears. "Are you in pain? Should I call the nurse?"
I shake my head, wiping some tears myself, sitting up on the table.
"I'll stay until Emmett gets here, okay? Don't worry," he says sweetly.
I push with a hand on his chest, avoiding his eyes. "You should go. It's fine. I'm fine."
His hand surrounds mine over his chest. I can feel his heart beating faster inside of him, and when my eyes find his, he is staring right at me.
"He's not coming, is he?"
I can only manage to shake my head at him, trying so hard not to break down. But it's too much. Everything that's happened today is just too much.
His expression changes then, to one of anger, as he lets go of my hand and reaches for his phone.
I realize then what this must look like to him.
He really has no idea. For all I know, he's probably thinking that Emmett knows I'm hurt and chooses not to come.
Oh God...
"Edward, no." I'm off the table, reaching for his hand, peeling the cell phone from his ear, tears now freely falling down my face.
He eyes me warily as he presses the end call button. "Isabella, what's going on?"
"He doesn't know I'm here."
"Why not?" His eyebrows furrow, puzzled by my statement.
"I... I took the job in Munich. We broke up." My voice is barely a whisper under Edward's stare. His eyes search mine, finally connecting the dots of what went on tonight.
Silence surrounds us for a couple seconds until his cell phone starts ringing and we both look at the screen.
It's Emmett.
Shit.
Edward takes a deep breath in front of me, staring at Emmett's name flashing on the screen of his cell phone ringing in one hand. He scratches his neck nervously, until he finally answers it.
"Hey..." He walks a little away from me. "Yeah... are you okay?" His eyes move to me briefly, as he listens. "Okay... All right."
He hangs up and I stare at him. "He's... um... okay, I guess. Still out drinking."
"By himself?" Worry seeps through me. Emmett out drinking by himself after what happened earlier would not be the best thing right now, for any of us.
"I don't know, Isabella." Edward looks down, rubbing his forehead.
"I'm sorry..." I touch my fingers to his arm, and he peeks up at me. I hate that I've put him through this. Emmett is his friend, his best friend. And he's here trying to deal with his friend's ex, like it is somehow his responsibility to run to my rescue and pick up my pieces. He is clearly exhausted, fed up, possibly sore and/or in pain. I need to give him an out. "I... I'll take a cab to the train station, okay? You've done so much for me already. Thank you."
"Train station?" His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, as if it's the most inconceivable thing he's ever heard. "You... you're leaving tonight?"
"What else am I going to do, Edward? I missed my train, but hopefully I can get another one tonight or tomorrow morning."
"You're not going to spend the night at the train station." His words are final — he leaves no room for argument, but I still try...
"I can't- I can't stay with Emmett." My eyes start filling with tears again.
God, what a mess!
Edward hesitates in front of me, his eyes shifting from me to behind my shoulder, as he's deep in thought. I catch his hand, rubbing on his hip, as he takes a deep breath before speaking. "I'll drive you."
"Absolutely not, you've done enough, Edward." My voice is not as severe as his, and he's about to refute me but he doesn't get the chance when the resident comes back inside with release forms for me to sign.
After I've signed the release forms and the doctor is gone, Edward moves closer to me again. "Please, let me drive you." His eyes bore in to mine and I can't imagine managing saying no to him. So, I just nod in response, and with much effort, break his gaze to gather my things and myself to go.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
A/N: Welp! Who is looking forward to that drive?