~ oOo ~
No, your eyes do not deceive you - this is another
early update! I figured my British friends could
do with a pick-me-up after a stressful political week.
Although, on reflection, I'm not sure how much
this chapter will cheer you up...
Anyways, hugemungous thank yous to
SunflowerFran and annaharding
for making Pinky Promises beautiful!
And a special Happy Birthday to
annaharding! You've become a wonderful
friend and I hope you're having a lovely day.
Welcome to all new readers, and big hugs
to all you wonderful reviewers! The past couple
weeks have been manic so I've been a fail at
responding, but please know that I get a kick
out of reading your theories and kind words
when I get the chance.
***TISSUE WARNING***
Drama ahead!
~ oOo ~
Summary: When two little girls were allowed to walk
home from school one bright spring day nobody could've
predicted the events that followed. The way two families
were torn apart by the vendetta of a deranged man.
Nearly twelve years on, we'll watch as the two girls stolen
away from their homes at eight years old fight to take
back their lives. If only it were as simple as escaping. AU
Pinky Promises
Chapter Twenty-Four
The beige walls crept closer. A plain white clock with a broken hand ticked ominously with every passing second. The overhead fan stirred the leaves of a slightly wilted fern. A fat, beady-eyed pigeon stared into the room from the window ledge.
Blue-green eyes flicked rhythmically from the pigeon's eager face to an impassive one across the room. Less than two meters separated the only two occupants and yet, to Bella, it felt like the Grand Canyon.
With the sudden sound of a voice, the walls snapped back to their rightful place, and the clock was drowned out by the rush of Bella's thoughts refilling her brain.
"How are you feeling today, Bella?"
She shrugged, her tense shoulders jumping a little.
"We can sit here in silence for the entire hour if you'd like, but I don't think it will help you in the long run."
Bella met the eyes of Irina Denali, the woman with whom she was to spend three hours a week, as per her doctor's instructions and her dad's need to see her well. Rosalie's session had finished twenty minutes before, Bella's beginning less than five minutes afterwards. As yet, Irina's earlier greeting and her more recent enquiry into her wellbeing were the only words that had been spoken.
Bella huffed in frustration. "I can't…" She trailed off.
"You can't, what?" Irina spoke softly, just as Megan had. In the pale, almost sterile environment of her office, even that softness wasn't enough to completely relax Bella. She was annoyed with her new shape, unable to curl up like she wanted because her bump was in the way, so she was sitting sideways in an armchair opposite Irina, studiously avoiding her psychologist's gaze.
As many times as she'd been there by now, Bella was still unused to being away from the house; Irina had suggested she work on that. A fear of leaving the house was the last thing Bella needed, so Irina said. Bella was, unsurprisingly, reluctant to accept her suggestion.
"Would you prefer if I spoke? You can answer with gestures if you'd like. It'll be a temporary solution until you're feeling more comfortable." Grateful for the reprieve, Bella dropped her head in a single nod. "All right." As she paused to gather herself, Bella took in Irina's wavy, white-blonde hair, and the way it moved with her head as she jotted notes on the pad in her lap.
What is she writing if I haven't said anything? She wondered.
"Your dad tells me that you and Rosalie have been working on my previous suggestion," the psychologist began. Immediately, she noticed the way Bella's body slumped. "You don't like it?"
Newly chocolate curls bounced with Bella's negative headshake.
"I didn't expect you to," Irina admitted easily, her lips twisted into a smile. "It's a huge adjustment for the both of you, and for Marley. To be honest, I didn't expect you to take to it so quickly. I thought you'd put up more of a fight."
It never paid for me to fight before.
"But I guess that's more of an ingrained habit than a choice the pair of you have made, am I right?" The way Bella's eyes shot to Irina's for the first time this session told her everything she needed to know. "No, I don't read minds," Irina sighed ruefully, "although, it sure would help, huh? I've spent a lot of time studying cases like yours, getting to know people who were victims, just the same as you were."
Bella's brows furrowed at the word she hated to hear in regard to herself. Victim. It made her feel somehow less, as though she wasn't a full person because she'd been victimized. A lot of people were victims of life, but they didn't all end up spending hours with a psychologist, or wind up with a pathological fear of work boots, crowds they couldn't monitor, or loud noises.
"Rosalie tells me you've been spending more time with extended family, friends, and neighbors."
Not for the first time, Bella was glad she and Rosalie had given Irina permission to share the content of their sessions with one another, as well as their dads. She nodded, just a tiny dip of her head as she waited to see where Irina was going with this subject.
"Do you enjoy seeing them? Your aunt, uncle, cousins? Your neighbors?"
Another nod, this one more definitive than the last. Irina smiled, having expected that response.
"And your brother. You're more comfortable with him now?"
Nod.
"Good! That's good."
A rock settled itself in Bella's stomach because she saw where Irina's eyes moved next – the dark blue t-shirt she'd borrowed from Edward.
"I understand his friend is staying at your father's house, too."
It wasn't a question, so Bella kept her lips pursed. She felt protective of her relationship with Edward, of their rekindling friendship, especially the nickname he'd given her. The last thing she wanted was for Irina to dissect it, or turn it into something it wasn't.
We're just friends, Bella recited to herself.
"Does Rosalie often spend time with you and Edward?"
"Sometimes…" the question caught Bella off-guard, and she answered verbally. "Why?"
Irina's smile was almost smug as she replied off-handedly, "I was just wondering. Do you feel as if your friendship with Rosalie is lessening at all now that she's staying at her house, while you're at yours, with Edward?"
"Of course not! That's…that's ridiculous!" Bella's eyes glowed incandescent with anger. How dare she insinuate that Bella was replacing Rosalie? After everything they'd been through, there was no way any relationship would ever be as strong as theirs.
"I'm sorry if I've upset you, that wasn't my intention, Bella." Something about the woman's face told Bella she was sorry, but there was another emotion there, too. Almost like…pride? "When you're at home, cooking breakfast, cleaning up, or just relaxing, who is it you feel most relaxed with?"
Blue-green eyes turned stormy with indecision, the strong mind behind them contemplating her thoughts closely. Charlie had become a support all over again, his gruff, quiet nature making him easy to be around. Bella didn't have to worry about him hovering, which she liked.
Peter, her dear Uncle Pete, was a calming influence. He always had been. Despite his over six-foot frame and semi-muscular shape, he came off as a gentle giant.
Heidi and Pippa, Bella was ashamed to admit, were probably amongst the people she made the least effort to spend time with. Their chirpiness, high-pitched enthusiasm, and endless teenage drama made them difficult to relate to. They'd grown into lovely, obviously-caring girls, but Bella couldn't reconcile them with the young twins she remembered.
Then there was Archie. His boyish, playful nature had stayed the course, though he was always on hand with gentle encouragement when it was needed. Kristen, though apparently a good mother to her nephews and fiancée to her brother, rubbed Bella the wrong way with her standoffish nature. Ever-observant, she'd noticed the fierce glare on Kristen's face whenever she got close to Chase or Carl-Roman when they were both around the boys. Not that she was around often. Archie and the boys spent a lot of time with the family, while Kristen seemed to prioritize work.
That brought Bella's thoughts to Carl-Roman and Chase. Rays of sunshine in a sometimes cloudy life, Bella adored those boys almost as much as she adored Marley and her unborn sibling. With every beaming grin Carl-Roman bestowed upon her, every gummy chuckle Chase released when she tickled his chubby belly, they reminded Bella of why she needed to get better. She wanted to be the best auntie she could be to her adorable nephews.
On the periphery of her thoughts, Bella had to acknowledge that, lingering in the back of her mind when she was around any of her family members, Rosalie included, there was a strong, vibrant undercurrent of guilt saturating her every breath.
If I'd tried to escape before, would we have had all this sooner? Did I hold us back? Did I fail them all?
Then, like a pair of arms engulfing her, Bella felt her body warm through. She had to bite back a happy hum. Edward. He brought so much to her life without even knowing it. A simple arm over her shoulder or a smile on his always-happy face brightened her mood whether she let herself show it or not. His crooked smile, easy-going friendliness, the never-abating warmth emanating from his skin, and the bond she'd witnessed growing between him and her daughter all combined to make him the person that made inhaling an automatic bodily function, rather than the chore it had once been. He was easy and uncomplicated, and never asked anything of her that she wasn't willing to give.
"Bella?"
She gasped and was pulled abruptly back into the reality of the little armchair in the psychologist's office. "Could you try to share your thoughts with me?"
"Edward. It's Edward. Your question before, about who I'm most relaxed with. It's…it's Edward.
Irina masked her surprise at Bella's outburst, shifting in her chair while making notes on her pad. "Could you explain that?"
Bella frowned. "He's just…he's always there when I need him. He makes it easier to breathe."
"That's a great start, thank you. When you say he makes it easier to breathe, how does he do that? What does he do, or say, that helps you?"
"When I'm near Edward, it's like…I don't know how to explain it."
"It's okay, take your time," Irina said softly, smiling in that reassuring way Bella was sure psychologists learned in college. "You're doing so well, Bella."
Bella nodded, the frustration still evident on her face. "He's warmth. That sounds weird, but…I feel cold all the time, and being near Edward makes me feel warm. It's like, he just smashes through everything, all the bad stuff, and makes it evaporate, so I don't have to deal with it for a while."
Blue-green eyes met surprised but proud ice-blue.
Bella steeled herself. "He soaks up all the bad, so I can feel good, and I don't think he even realizes he does it." Emboldened by the shocking feeling of freedom garnered by releasing all of her pent-up thoughts, Bella sat a little straighter in the chair, cradling her bump. "It feels like I've been paused for the last twelve years and now my blood is running again. Just hugging him makes me feel stronger, makes me feel a million times lighter. Sometimes it's like he can see right through me, and I know I should be terrified of that, but it's just…it's liberating. I never thought it would happen, but I can't see my life without him in it, and we've only been friends again for a month and a half."
Bella's remaining breath leaked out of her in a long, drawn-out huff of a sigh, which left her feeling equal parts empty and relieved.
Irina's beaming smile was wider than Bella had ever seen it. She nodded; her hand paused over the notepad in her lap. "Bella, have you considered the reasons for you feeling more inclined to relax around Edward, someone you saw only fleetingly as a child, as opposed to your family or Rosalie?"
Bella shook her head, suddenly feeling weary.
"May I share my suspicion?" When Bella nodded, Irina continued. "All right. Please answer these questions. Briefly, if you prefer, but some of them may require longer answers."
"Okay."
"Right, good." Irina inhaled a deep breath. "When I say 'dad,' what is the first emotion that comes to mind, the first emotion you feel?"
Without thinking, Bella blurted the first word that popped into her head. It only shocked one of them. "Guilt."
"Why do you feel guilt when you think of your dad?"
Frowning, she admitted, "because I doubted him. I doubted that he'd find us, and thought he'd give up searching."
"So you thought he'd give up on you?"
Too ashamed to answer, Bella stared at the carpet under her feet, realizing that she almost couldn't see it over her large bump.
"Rosalie."
"I didn't fight hard enough," Bella whispered, tears springing to her eyes. "I lied to my best friend, my sister. She didn't deserve that."
"And you didn't deserve having to take care of yourself and your sister in such horrific circumstances, but you did it." Soothing though her voice may be, it fell on deaf ears.
Bella was remembering all the times she'd lied to Rosalie over the years, whether to stop her from asking questions about what had happened in the study, whether Charlie and Peter were still looking for them, or why they had to pretend that Garrett Smith was their dad, day-in, day-out. In her mind, she saw the day Garrett threw her into the bedroom where Rosalie was waiting, and she'd had to listen to her whimpers, while stifling her own, as she explained the charade they had to play until their rescue. Dozens of cuts, bruises, and scars flitted in a seemingly, never-ending reel behind Bella's eyes. Rosalie's watery, baby-blues hovered on the sidelines of each and every memory, her tears soaking into the deepest recesses of Bella's mind.
"She trusted me, and I abused that."
Irina was about to speak, but Bella cut her off, pushing up on the armrests to heave herself to her feet.
"I can't do this. Can I go now? Please?"
Irina's eyes softened as she gazed at the emotionally wrought, heavily pregnant young woman in front of her. "Of course. I'll see you Friday, Bella. Take care."
With that, Bella spun on her heel and left the room as quickly as she could. Charlie, Peter, and Rosalie, all seated in the waiting area, watched through shocked eyes as Bella threw the door open and waddled out. The session wasn't due to finish for another ten minutes.
The two men, along with Rosalie, followed Bella out to the car park. They found her pacing agitatedly beside Charlie's car.
"Are you okay, honey?" Charlie asked calmly, hiding his worry for his daughter's sake.
"I'm fine, Dad. Can we please go? Now?"
"Sure, sure. Come on then."
The ten-minute drive home was filled with tense, almost hostile silence. Bella couldn't even concentrate on any one bouncing thought long enough to even attempt to dispel it.
When the group arrived on Percival Road, they headed straight indoors. Despite the hindrance her bump had become in recent weeks, Bella was the first inside. Expecting her to hide out in her room the way she usually did after a session with Irina, Charlie was surprised to see her heading for the kitchen. When the trio – Charlie, Peter, and Rosalie – stepped into the room, they were stunned to see a half-smile on Bella's face, Marley wrapped around her legs, her body tucked into Edward's side as he teased her about being able to start dinner earlier than planned.
"Well, I'll be damned…" Charlie breathed.
"You're not kidding, pal," Peter murmured, reaching up to squeeze his friend's shoulder. "She's like a different person."
Unbeknownst to anybody around her, Rosalie's eyes teared just a touch as she spotted the adoration shining from the depths of Bella's azure eyes straight into the jade of Edward's.
~ oOo ~
Hours later, under the cover of darkness, Bella and Rosalie sat on the grass near the fence separating the two gardens. Their hands were linked between them, cross-legged knees touching. With their foreheads pressed lightly together, eyes closed, and breaths soft, anybody watching may have thought they were meditating. A forgiving breeze carried their hair in a gentle arc before laying it back over their shoulders, chocolate waves entwined with dark blonde.
Overhead, the stars shone brightly in an inky black sky, the moon a glowing lantern bathing the garden in its pale light. For once, they were peaceful. Over the sound of crickets chirping in the foliage beyond the fence, cars made short work of the dual carriageway on the other side of the lakes bordering the houses. Hanging between the girls' ears was a set of white headphones, soft music lulling them into a calm, almost meditative state.
The dulcet tones of Kait Weston covering Demi Lovato's Nightingale echoed in their minds long after the song finished and shifted into a slightly more upbeat song. Unthinkingly, Bella's free left hand moved from where it clutched at the grass to her bump, where it fisted the soft material of Edward's hoodie. She'd borrowed it after dinner and her bath, her bottom half ensconced in his gray jogging bottoms once again. In the time she and Rosalie had been back, their fathers had bought them new clothes, but they both preferred the larger items belonging to their loved ones.
It made them feel safe, wrapped in their smells and dwarfed by their size.
"What did you talk about?" Rosalie's voice carried on the breeze, her eyes still closed, breaths perfectly even.
"Feelings. How I feel about certain people. Why I feel that way," Bella's eyelids flickered before opening. "What did you talk about?" This talking session had become routine since their sessions with Irina began. Both girls found it therapeutic.
"Our recovery. Our visit to the hospital next week."
The reminder or their upcoming appointments made Bella tense. She'd been trying to put it out of her mind, not wanting to look weak by admitting she was terrified to be in such a populated place, unable to keep track of all the people who'd doubtlessly be around her. That wasn't even including the doctors she and Rosalie would have to see.
"You," Rosalie added before Bella could worry herself into a panic attack.
"Irina said you mentioned Edward?"
Rosalie nodded, just a slight dip of her head. "She asked who I'm close to, and I mentioned that he's a good friend. Did she talk about him to you, too?"
"Yeah." Bella's brows knotted together in the center of her forehead.
Pulling back a few inches, Rosalie frowned. "You and Edward are close now, and it's probably normal for her to want to talk about our friends, right?" Getting no reaction from Bella, she pushed on tentatively. "I mean…you feel better when he's around, right?"
"I…yeah, I do."
"Exactly. Irina just wants to help, but she needs to know how we're feeling to be able to do that."
"I guess."
Rosalie hummed, lips twitching upwards at her friend's stubborn nature. It was increasingly clear Bella was feeling more and more attached to Edward. Earlier, for example. She'd been all-but shaking with emotion in the car, but within a few minutes of being with Edward, her face had brightened considerably, and she was smiling – albeit, shakily. Rosalie was very aware of Bella's ability to hide her emotions, so she was willing to bet there were more simmering beneath the surface than she'd show. That said, the way her body relaxed as soon as she was close to Edward spoke for itself.
Likewise, the way she'd drifted perilously close to returning to her silent self while Edward had made a weekend trip to visit his dad for his birthday. She'd spent three whole days wandering the house, lost without her sun. Marley hadn't fared much better.
Needless to say, everyone had welcomed Edward back with open arms when he'd returned a day earlier than planned, snapping Bella from the odd mood she'd slipped into in his absence.
A few minutes had passed before Bella huffed. "What?"
"Nothing," Rosalie said gleefully. "I was just thinking."
Bella wasn't convinced, but she nodded anyway. The pair stayed out in the moonlight for another hour before they rose in tandem without a word, making their way to Bella's bed where they fell asleep quickly, hands linked between them on the mattress until Marley crept beneath them, her stomach lifting and dropping their palms as she snored softly.
~ oOo ~
The next day dawned downright mournfully. The sky had darkened in the early hours, rain drenching everything within its reach. At seven, Bella and Rosalie waved Charlie and Peter off to work, returning to the kitchen where Edward was wolfing down his fry-up.
"Enjoying that, are we?" Bella teased softly.
"Definitely!" Edward agreed once he'd swallowed his mouthful. "Best breakfast I've had all day."
Rosalie snickered at his joke – of course, he'd only had the one breakfast that day, though she suspected he'd have many more if they were put in front of him – as Edward tossed a cheeky wink her way, Bella's cheeks pinking at the praise.
"Seriously though," he continued, bringing his pressed-together forefinger and thumb to his lips before smacking them in the recognized Italian gesture for 'delicious,' following it with a lazy, roguish grin that sent butterflies soaring in Bella's stomach. The baby kicked heartily, as he or she usually did when Edward spoke.
Still flushed from Edward's attention, Bella scurried from the room murmuring that she was heading for the bathroom. Rosalie giggled, her eyes following Bella's waddling form before returning to Edward just in time to watch him fit a large forkful of food into his mouth, one of his mirthful jade eyes winking and sparking another round of laughter. "You did that on purpose," she accused.
Edward assumed the most innocent expression he could, swallowing his food. "I would never."
As he resumed hoovering up his food, Rosalie snorted indelicately and leaned back against the wall, ankles crossed, arms over her chest. The relaxed way she held herself was completely at odds with the otherwise closed-off stance she'd taken. Gazing out at the sheets of rain pouring from the charcoal gray clouds, Rosalie couldn't help but muse that when it came to distracting both herself and Bella from their troubles, there wasn't much Edward wouldn't do.
It was a heart-warming realization, one that reminded her of a lighter-haired young man whose hobby it had once been to cheer her, Marley, and Bella amidst the hell they'd had to call 'home' for twelve years.
~ oOo ~
Later, once the morning had drifted seamlessly into a mild afternoon, Rosalie took Edward, Bella, and Marley next-door to watch a movie on the larger flat-screen in Peter's living room. As Edward and Bella settled themselves on one part of the L-shaped sofa, Marley took a spot on the other side, patting the cushion beside her with a whispered, "sit here, Auntie Wosie."
Rosalie had cried the first time Marley said her name, even with the 'R' replaced by a 'W' for now. Her speech was improving day by day as she added more and more words to her vocabulary. As she grinned to herself at being chosen to be Marley's movie-watching snuggle-buddy, Rosalie picked up a random DVD from her dad's vast collection before turning to the DVD player. It was fixed to the wall beneath the TV.
"Uh…" A red light eyed her as she tried to deduce what the little symbols on each of the buttons represented. For a girl who'd rarely had the opportunity to use anything more technical than a coffee machine or cooker, it was confusing to see so many new shapes. As a child, she, Archie, Edward, and Bella had spent the majority of their time outside, so she couldn't even rely on those early memories for help.
"Here, let me get that, Rosalie."
Her cheeks flushed a little at the sound of her name wrapped in Edward's lazy, Italian-accented drawl. She handed over the case, sliding swiftly into place between the end of the sofa and Marley's warm little body.
"Right. Drinks? Snacks? Can't watch a movie without 'em," Edward declared, rubbing his hands together.
"I'll get—" Bella instinctively halted, stunned to find herself pinned in place by a green, reproachful gaze.
"Sit. I offered; I'll get them. Just try and relax, okay?" At her bemused frown, he sighed with a soft smile. "You two do a lot for everybody 'round here. Let me do something in return."
Twelve years of being conditioned to expect no help left the girls tongue-tied and a little uncomfortable. They weren't used to other people wanting to do things for them; it was a shock to the system. And up until now, everybody had been too nervous of setting them off to put their foot down and tell them they couldn't do something.
"I…er, Edward," Bella began, trailing off with a tight jaw as she hopelessly fought a burgeoning scowl.
He grinned, flashing pearly white teeth. "Bella, you just stay there and let me get the snacks, or I'll just have to make you."
It surprised everyone when Edward's cheeky declaration didn't appear to frighten Bella.
She squared her shoulders, forcing herself to look nonchalant despite her heart racing with something other than fear for once. She cocked an eyebrow.
Edward was struck by two thoughts as she did this.
The first was that she looked so incredibly like her mother at this moment.
The second was that he was inextricably longing to draw her into his arms and never let go.
It was disorientating in the extreme. In his twenty-seven years, Edward had dated only three noteworthy girlfriends, the last relationship ending almost four years ago. Not one of those women stirred such strong emotions within him as Bella did. He hated and loved it in equal measures. Bella had been through more in her twenty-one years than many people experience in their entire lifetime. The last thing she needed was some old friend from her past pawing at her.
A small voice in the back of his mind reminded Edward that he was her friend, she was his Bella Bean first and foremost, and that he didn't see her as anything more than his friend's little sister. However, even as those thoughts swirled around his brain, it felt wrong to think that way. To think of Bella as 'just a friend.'
But what alternative was there?
Edward turned and stormed into the kitchen, the girls sharing a confused look at his back as he marched away with a troubled tint to his expression.
When he returned a few minutes later, carrying glasses of cold lemonade and a bowl of cheese savories, Bella and Rosalie were disheartened to see that he hadn't shaken the dark look from his face.
~ oOo ~
An hour into the movie, Bella's eyes weren't anywhere near the screen.
Instead, they were fixed on the tanned, slightly calloused fingertips of Edward's right hand. He tapped them rhythmically against his navy and white shorts. His face had run the full spectrum of emotions in the past hour, his eyes switching from troubled and dark, to happy and bright as his thoughts ran laps around his head.
Bella's stomach twisted, the baby kicking sharply against her ribs, as she flicked her eyes upwards to his face, shocked to find herself busted. He cocked his head slightly, silently asking if she was okay. Embarrassed to have been caught staring, and more than a little bemused by the way his gaze made her feel so many foreign emotions, she tipped her head away and stared blankly at the TV screen.
Less than three minutes later they'd returned to Edward's thigh-tapping fingers.
It was only then that she realized that the patterns looked like piano keys. It occurred to her that he was playing the piano on his leg. She wondered whether he actually played, or if it was just a tick and she was reading too much into it.
The pair were both distracted from their thoughts when Marley let out a soft, but audible, snore. They shared an amused glance, peering at Marley and Rosalie curled into one another, both fast asleep. Even when Bella's body shook with silent laughter, neither of them stirred.
"Do you want to go into the kitchen? We can let them sleep for a while."
Edward nodded, helping her stand before laying a fluffy, cream Afghan blanket over Marley and Rosalie. Bella smiled at him as he passed her, the duo taking seats at the counter with fresh glasses of apple juice as an awkward silence descended.
Side-eyeing Bella, Edward struggled to smother the instinct to pull her into his side. The look of confusion on her face, tinged with hurt he didn't understand, triggered the ever-protective urge he hadn't known he'd had until recently. More specifically, until he scooped a trembling young woman from a bathroom and ran through a blazing motel room to get her to safety.
"Didn't your mum ever tell you it's rude to stare, Edward?"
Edward blinked, wide-eyed, at Bella. Busted. "Uh…"
"What's wrong?" The tiny smirk on her face belied her amusement, Edward's anxiety riddled chest loosening a little.
"It's nothing."
Edward couldn't help but take in the subtle changes in Bella's face now that he had the picture of her, fresh from the motel, in his mind. Already her cheekbones were less prominent, her once-hollow features exponentially healthier, though there was still a way to go before she reached a healthy weight overall. After all, her doctors weren't sure how much of the weight she was gaining was her, or the baby.
For Edward every ounce was a victory, a sign she was getting stronger, and healthier.
"Seriously, you're giving me a complex. What's wrong?"
Edward huffed, reaching up to tug at the peak of his beloved cap. Bella's brows knotted together as she read the distinctly nervous habit for what it was. Then, he proved her earlier assumption correct, unconsciously playing a melody on the counter on either side of his apple juice.
"Just restless, that's all." His efforts to sound cheerful fell flat, his dark brows tightening in thought.
"Did you know Heidi plays the keyboard?" Bella asked, seemingly randomly.
Edward shook his head slowly, wondering 'why the change of subject?'
"Wait here a second, okay?" After pulling a bemused promise from Edward that he wouldn't go anywhere, Bella struggled down from the stool, making her way slowly up the stairs to Heidi and Pippa's bedroom. The Hale house mirrored her own, so the twins' bedroom was where Archie's was next-door. Bella allowed herself a brief moment to take in the pale pink walls, twin beds either side of a dressing table inherited from their mother, and the framed photo of the Hales on top. Peter, Tina, and Rosalie beamed, newborn Heidi and Pippa wide-eyed and alert in their proud mother's arms.
Then she took the keyboard from the foot of Heidi's bed, somehow managing to carry it downstairs without breaking it or toppling over. True to his word, Edward was sitting with his back to the door, spinning a paperclip between his fingers. As Bella moved around the counter, she saw the contemplative expression on his face, wondering what had him in such a funk.
"Here we go," she said softly, recapturing his attention.
Dark jade eyes moved from Bella's expectant, almost excited face, to the keyboard as she set it on the counter in front of him. Even worse than before, his fingers itched to press on the ivory and charcoal keys, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the instrument. "May I?" He gestured towards the keys, unable to stifle his glee.
Bella let out a soft huff of a laugh, nodding and resting her elbows on the counter as he slid it into place, pressing buttons and flicking switches she'd never have known what to do with. Despite his excitement, Edward paused once he had the keyboard set up the way he wanted, eyes sliding shut as his fingers caressed the keys tenderly. It had been months since he played the piano back in Italy, but only days since he'd gotten the itch to hear the melodic tones of his favorite pieces.
As the dulcet tones of his most treasured piece began to fill the kitchen at his will, a voice rising in volume shouted from the recesses of his mind. It's her. It's Bella. She's your muse!
And as he played without effort, his love of music flooding back to him after a long hiatus, Edward couldn't help but wonder if his subconscious was right.
Across the counter, Bella was enraptured by both the man and the music.
Watching Edward's hand dance effortlessly across the keys battled for focus with the dream-like look on his face, his long, dark eyelashes flickering with the movement of his eyes beneath their lids. She'd been growing closer to him over the past weeks, her relationship with him gaining momentum with every passing minute they spent together. Though she didn't yet have names for the feelings rushing within, Bella knew they were stronger than the friendship she'd shared with him twelve years ago.
The knowledge that she was now bound to him in ways she didn't understand both terrified and exhilarated her.
The days Edward had spent in Italy with his family were inconceivably difficult for Bella. Until he'd left, it hadn't sunken in that he was providing her with warmth, her very own sunshine in the form of a friend she could spend time with without feeling guilty. By the time he'd been gone five hours, she was wrapped in a thick jumper, a borrowed hoodie, and a fluffy blanket, feeling the cold more than ever. Though it confounded her, Bella hated to admit that even Rosalie's attempts to help her hadn't worked as well as they once might've done.
Something about Edward drew her to him and kept her there, his innate sense of warmth embracing her even from across a crowded room. The only way Bella could describe it was to say that he had become her sun in every way, bright and earnest in his joy, comforting and supportive when she needed him to be.
While listening to the music flowing from his fingertips Bella felt more content than ever, the gradually increasing tempo breaking in a startlingly tear-jerking crescendo of colors that burst behind her eyelids, her heart thumping erratically. In all the years she'd spent captive on the ranch, music had been limited to an old, crackly radio in the kitchen. It was only capable of playing country music with twangy riffs and familiar Southern drawls; most of the ranch hands were employed from the South.
The music melted into something softer, something moving, and Bella felt the heavy presence of eyes on her. Bronzed eyelids flicked open to reveal teary blue-greens. They met the intense gaze of Edward's grass-green, tangible but unnamed emotions shining within their depths.
Neither Bella nor Edward were able to define what was happening between them, why they felt this way, or whether they even should. What they both did know, however, was that they were on a collision course. One that nobody was going to be able to stop, whether they wanted to, or not.
And the funny thing was, as the pair stared into each other through the so-called windows to their respective souls, there wasn't a single consideration in either of their minds that they wanted this connection to be cut.
It was a strangely welcome, but intense realization that she liked feeling the emotions Edward's music stirred within her.
It had been years since Bella was this happy, this relaxed. Something as simple as a piece of music brought her to heights unimaginable to somesome who hadn't been through the things she had, who hadn't suffered the pain, loss, or heartbreak.
From the shell of a human being Edward had found, a delicate flower was finally beginning to blossom. With Edward's attention focused almost solely upon her, Bella was growing more and more each day. Days had passed since her last panic attack, over a week since her last nightmare, though it was likely those things would never fully disappear. Nobody really expected that, after everything the girls had been subjected to.
"Did you like it? The music?" Edward asked suddenly.
Bella's gaze snapped to his, finding the intensity breathtaking. "I did," she whispered.
The pride in his face lit up the room. His grass-green eyes sparkled beneath happily raised eyebrows, dimples bookending his lopsided grin. "Would you like to hear something else?"
Unable to speak through the thickness in her throat, Bella dipped her head in a nod. Butterflies akin to eagles flapped in her stomach as his fingers began to move on the keys once more, teasing the most beautiful of melodies from the instrument.
"I learned to play at school in Italy. I suppose it's the only good thing I got out of that ridiculous boarding school," Edward murmured, afraid of speaking too loudly in case it shattered the balmy atmosphere in the room. "I mean, they made us learn French! Do you speak any other languages?"
"No."
"French is a pointless language. I don't see why I should've had to learn the damn thing when I doubt I'll ever go there."
"Why not?"
Edward frowned, though the music never faltered as he pondered his answer. "Well, I guess…I have no reason to. I have my place in Rome, and I have no wish to visit France for anything."
"Don't you want to travel? See the world?" Bella clearly remembered how he'd once told her of his plans to see the world. In fact, she also remembered his conviction that he'd visit Australia before his thirtieth birthday. It confused her to hear that his dream had changed in the years she'd been away. Bella couldn't help but wonder what or who might have changed his mind.
"Travelling holds little interest for me now," Edward eventually shrugged. "Everything, everyone, I need is either here or in Rome. Why would I want to leave all that behind?"
Even as he said the words, they didn't ring true. They hung, limp in the air between them, tainting the sincerity of the melody he played. Bella grew cold as a thought slid itself slyly into her mind.
Is it because of me?
"Edward…" she whispered, horror-struck by the idea. Of course, it's not because of me…, I'm just his friend…
A war raged within Edward as he raised his head to face the ceiling, avoiding the question in her murmur and the expressiveness of her ocean eyes. It had been weeks since he'd even considered his plans to travel, not least the ticket to Egypt waiting for him back in Rome. It expired in two weeks. He'd bought it from a friend of his grandfather, but the idea of leaving was abhorrent now that he had something to leave behind.
I can't take off for a month, Edward thought resolutely, not a hint of doubt in his mind as he made plans to sell the ticket, or ask its original owner if he'd like it back. Despite all attempts to the contrary, Edward was more aware than ever that there was something more than simple friendship growing between himself and Bella, electricity still humming in the air as his fingers instinctively continued filling the room with soft notes. The past days had wrought an intrinsic alteration of Edward's psyche. He could no longer go more than a few minutes without seeking Bella out with his eyes, or justifying a walk around the house to himself with silly excuses that, on the off-chance, he'd come across Marley or her mother.
More and more, he found an invisible rope tugging him in her direction. Their bond had been strengthened by his gentle joviality, and her hatred of being handled with kid gloves.
With Bella's eyes boring holes in his upturned face, Edward couldn't slow his racing heart or quell the distaste at the idea of eventually having to return to Rome. He was unhappy just at the thought of speaking to his friends, speaking to Marley and Bella, through a phone instead of face-to-face. His thoughts turned to the baby Bella carried, of receiving photos of him or her but having to wait until his next trip to England to see his or her face in person. It hurt, he had to admit it. The thought of missing the baby's birth, of not being around to help Bella and to congratulate Marley on being a big sister, cut him to the core.
Hearing a soft sigh from across the counter, Edward tapered out the music. His eyes found Bella, taking in the way her hair hung in loose braids over each purple-hoodie-clad shoulder. The fingers of her right hand fiddled with the hood toggles over her chest, tugging the hem of her hoodie further down over her rapidly expanding bump. Edward knew she was wearing a black tank top beneath the hoodie, one that matched his ribbed vest, and the small similarity sparked something within him. A phrase his grandmother often used when showing off the matching gold chains she and her husband wore every day leaped into Edward's mind, foolish though it may have been. The words were also etched above the side-by-side mirrors in his grandparents' master bathroom.
His and Hers.
As Bella breathed out deeply, her eyelashes swept over her cheekbones before rising to frame stunning eyes in a shade Edward had never seen outside of her family. The shade may be the same shade as Charlie's, and as Carl-Roman's and Marley's, but nobody could ever accuse Bella's eyes of being ordinary. Constantly changing emotions swam in their depths like fish in the ocean. Just to look at them was a wonder in itself, in Edward's opinion, their almond shape and entrancing qualities making it impossible for him to look away when she met his gaze.
There had been a total shift in his priorities, and it was all because of the girl staring at him. That realization confounded, delighted, and tied Edward in knots, because she was Archie's little sister. He'd known her since she was a baby, held her hands when she was learning to walk, pushed her on swings in the playground. It wasn't right for him to feel anything more than friendship for her…was it?
Gazing at her, his heart hammering in his chest like a teenage boy with a crush, Edward was forced to admit that whether he liked it or not, whether he thought it was inconvenient, unreciprocated, or likely to get him pummeled by her protective father, uncle, and brother, the emotion pulling hard on his psyche wasn't merely friendship.
It was love.
Of course, there was no way for either of them to know that the next time Edward touched Bella, they'd be fighting for their lives.
Meanwhile, listening from the back of a candy apple red van…
A pair of thin lips twisted up into a sneer, rough fingertips subconsciously moving from the earpiece in his ear to trace a recently-healed, crescent-shaped scar stretching from temple to forehead.
"I'm coming for you, Bella."