Ch. 7

Bella's birthday festivities weren't the happy occasion I might have hoped a week before, but they went as smoothly as possible under the circumstances. We ate her favorite meal of broiled trout and turnip greens, sang 'Happy Birthday' to her, and she blew out the seventeen candles on her peaches and cream decked cake.

There was a heavy cloud of stress and sadness hanging over the party, though. I thought saw that I my love surreptitiously swipe away a tear once, but I was sitting across from her at the table and unable to even offer quiet words of comfort.

After dinner, Bella thanked each of us for the company and meal, politely excusing herself before running up the stairs. I thought about visiting her again in the guest room while everyone would be distracted cleaning up, but Helen had other plans for me, apparently.

"Edward, dear, Helen isn't feeling quite well, and she asked to retire early this evening. Would you mind finishing gathering the plates for me while I put away the leftover cake?"

"Of course, mother. Is Helen alright?" It was very rare that she ever left her duties early. She was more dependable than even the rising of the sun each day.

"Yes, she said her head just ached, and she felt a little more tired than usual after all the disturbance of the day. I'm sure she's fine. She's just getting older. We can afford to give her some time away." Mother replied with a look of pity.

"Yes, of course." I didn't like to think about Helen's increasing years because it made me realize that one day she would grow feeble, her body riddled with ailment, and, eventually, her life would end. She was only ten years senior to my parents, so if her body was showing signs of decline already, what would happen to father...or mother? My God. No, I didn't like to think of that at all.

It was awful enough that Ruth was missing, but now Helen wasn't well, I was dwelling on my parents' eminent deaths, and Bella was surely crying upstairs alone. These last few days had taken such a toll on my spirits that I couldn't see how things would ever improve. I had never been known for my optimism, but this feeling consuming me was outright despair.

I quickly learned that I should never question the direction of morale because just moments after the table was clear, there was knock on the door.

"Charlie?" I heard my father ask. "Please, come in."

I rushed to the foyer to greet him. "Mr. Swan. What brings you over so late? Do you have news of—"

"Dad?" I looked behind me to see Bella coming off the last step. "I thought you would be working through the night? Is it Ruth? Did you find her?"

Mr. Swan silently turned to his daughter with a look of deep sadness, and I swallowed back the knot rising in my throat. There was only one reason he would come over rather than make a phone call. He had news, but it was the kind you never wanted to hear, but especially not disclosed to you over the phone.

"Bella—" he began, but she reacted immediately to his tone, her perceptiveness operating at full swing.

"No! No, Dad! She just wanted ice cream! She...just...she..." Bella was gasping for air, swaying back and forth as if she might lose consciousness.

Mother gasped and turned into Father's arms. Mr. Swan stood dumbly, helplessly reaching out for his only daughter, but he too seemed to be in shock of delivering his own news.

Inappropriate contact be damned, I turned to take Bella into my arms, holding her so tightly to my chest and whispering into her hair, "I'm so sorry. I'm here...I'm so sorry, love," over and over until the rest of the room seemed to disappear. I resurfaced to the present only once I felt Bella going limp. No one tried to stop me when I lifted her into my arms and carried her to the parlor, her labored breaths raking violently through her as I released her from my cradle to set her carefully on the sofa.

I did hesitate to act when it became obvious that the one deed which may help her physical discomfort in her distressed state was to release the tie of her corset. I shot a desperate look to Mother, who graciously side-stepped the others in the room, pushing her way to Bella's side.

"Allow me. Please go get some water for her, dear."

"Yes, mother." I left the room falteringly, not wanting to leave my love's side, yet knowing that she deserved privacy since her undergarments would be exposed. Father and Mr. Swan followed after me.

"Whatever happened?" Father asked him in a hushed voice.

"We're still trying to work that out. Nothing good." Mr. Swan answered stoically.

"So you've found her..." there was a pregnant pause as Father struggled to find a respectful word to complete his thought. "...remains?" He finished regretfully.

Mr. Swan released a heavy sigh. "No, but I can't see how she would have survived with the amount of...evidence...left behind. I can't discuss the details with you, as you know, Ed, but the amount of blood in that car could have even the coldest corpse revived."

The men spoke candidly as if they had forgotten I was present, or maybe this was the price I had to pay for growing into manhood. Gone were the days when I would be shushed and hidden away from the gory truths of this damned life. I didn't want to hear what the officers had found.

For a moment, I thought about leaving, running away and hiding in some foreign universe where things could go back to being perfect, where Bella and I were happy and innocent as we had been just days ago. I didn't want to carry with me for the rest of my days the knowledge that Ruth had suffered in her last moments, but, furthermore and most importantly, I was absolutely sure that I would gladly go to hell and back to keep this from Bella.

Bella, my love whom I would cherish and hold in the highest esteem until death do we part, legally binding document or no, I had sworn in my heart long ago that I would protect her, love her, keep her from the evils of this world long ago even before I knew that she was, without doubt, my soulmate, before that night on the cool golden sands of Lake Michigan, dancing and kissing until we were drunk with happiness.

And then it hit me. Oh God almighty, this was a punishment from the Lord himself. I had become physical, reckless in my pursuit of self-righteousness, breaking down the carefully guarded divide between courting and marriage, and then it all went to hell. Ruth was missing or—more realistically—killed after we consummated our love confessions in a kiss. This was all my fault.

I returned to the parlor to find Bella, conscious once again, dressed in my mother's dressing gown. She had a wool blanket pulled up to her chin, but I still felt the warm blood rush to my cheeks at the sight of her in such casual attire.

There was a sensation of falling bubbling in my stomach. I shouldn't be here in this room with her this way. Seeing her this way wasn't suitable circumstances for a courtship, and it was made all the worse because despite the fact that I had the wisdom to recognize the impropriety of witnessing Bella in near nakedness, here I stood. We had already gone leaps and bounds across the hard line of acceptable behavior in society and in the church, and those wonderful and equally nefarious acts had left us with nothing but heartbreak and loss despite our selfish feelings of love for one another. It felt so good to be with Bella, but it wasn't good. Not this way. The devil was surely laughing at his gain the moment I left the paved road to virtue behind for this rubbled path of sin, and I was bringing Bella along with me, the opposite of protecting and cherishing her.

"I'll just be upstairs. Please, rest, lo—Bella." I corrected with a stutter.

Bella sat up a bit to look to me in concern, so I offered her a fleeting glance which I hoped eased her mind. I had to create space between us. I had to end this pernicious course of which I was dragging Bella. Clearly, she didn't even realize what I had done, her gift of elevated perception blocked by her misplaced, noxious adoration for a monster like me.

I nearly tripped going up the stairs, and when I reached the flat ground of the top floor, I had to break the trajectory of my intended course to my room, dashing to the bathroom before the contents of my dinner expelled itself from my stomach.

What's an Edward without some misplaced self-loathing and a bit of melodrama? Let's talk about it! :)