Disclaimer: Everything Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyers. I own nothing except the angst-ridden plot that symbolized some of the pain I have felt in my life. I do not intend on making it big off Ms. Meyers epic saga, I figured my career in retail management will make me famous and rich. LOL. Yeah, right?
We stop just inches away from each other. His grey eyes are darker and tiny drops are sitting on his lashes. I look at him, really look at him and brush my fingers across his face. He is warm and I almost expect to see steam come from his skin. The next thing I know I am wrapped into his arms, his lips brush against mine. I sigh and give in as my arms wrap around his body. I don't think. My mind is clear as I give into his kiss.
In another world or time this kiss would of changed everything, but now it doesn't even come close to stopping the thoughts I have of Edward. With Garrett's arms wrapped around me I feel safe and that is all. Comfort. Protection. There is no passion, no fire. It is just a kiss.
I pull away and put some space between our bodies.
"Garrett," I sigh. Hoping he understands what I am about to say.
"I am sorry, this feeling just came over me and I had to kiss you," he says as the rain continues to fall down on us. I am neither bothered by the water that is soaking through my jacket or the cold that causes me to begin shivering uncontrollably.
Strands of hair are stuck to my cheeks. His hands have moved upward to my shoulders while mine are hanging at my sides. Unsure of how to even communicate what I am feeling I look down at my feet that beginning to get wet. The cold rain has covered the tops of my canvas sneakers and around me small pools of rainwater are forming on the ground. So little rain, but surely it is enough to drown in. They say that you only need a inch, right?
"Garrett," I say as I look back up to his face. He is still and waiting for my words almost as if he knows what I am about to say.
"I can't do this to you. You are such a great guy and friend..."
"Yeah, I get it Bella you don't have to say it," his tone is cold like the rain, almost indifferent. He guides me towards my truck that is still running, the door is still open so he wipes the well worn seat off with the sleeve of his sweatshirt and motions me to climb in.
He grabs the seat belt and pulls it across my body. Hearing it click into place I know I need to say something to him so he understands.
"I am broken, beyond broken. He broke me and it was a very long time ago. I came out here because I needed to see if it was real, if he was really here in Forks. I didn't expect he would be at the site and when he approached me I lost control, said things to him I have wanted to say for so long and I hit him. I punched him with everything I had," I pulled my hand up and showed him my knuckles that were swollen and red.
Garrett carefully brushed his fingers across my knuckles. The pads of his fingers carefully followed along each peak and valley of the joints. It was a comforting gesture, but it held none of the passion I craved.
"You should get some ice on that it looks like it really hurts," he said as he looked over the damage. I shrugged not knowing what to say. It hurt, but it was just physical pain.
"My hand feels fine compared to the rest of me. I am glad you came when you did because I...I didn't know what to do. I wanted to hit him again. I wanted to pull him into my arms. I wanted to tell him about Peyton..." I began to sob as soon as her name passed through my lips.
Garrett stepped closer and wrapped his arms around me. His mouth close to my ear. I heard him whisper apologies and it made me angry. It wasn't Garrett's fault she suffered, that I lost her, that I am a fucking mess.
Peyton was not a secret around town, in fact everyone knew the tragedy that struck the police chief's family, although no one ever spoke a word to me about my precious girl. I assumed it was out of respect or maybe fear. I know that I scared people the day of the funeral and for good reason. Temporary insanity I claimed, although some days the insanity feels more permanent.
"Bella, I am sorry. I shouldn't have pushed myself on you like that. I just see you every day and you look so sad and I want a chance to make you happy. I know I could make you happy if you would just let me," he continued to hold me for a few moments and then slowly pulled away.
"We can just pretend that this never happened if you want. Everything can go back to normal. Please will you do that for me?" he asked.
I nodded my head and then he brushed his lips against my temple and shut the truck door. Tapping twice on the cab I knew it was time for me to leave. I watched him get into his own truck and as we approached the highway I turned toward town and he went the opposite way.
Moving in the other direction I couldn't help to think about if things had been different would I be happy. Could I find happiness and allow it to heal me? I didn't have the answers and even with the weeks of therapy I had completed I was sure that the answers were hidden behind the walls I had built.
The following day I stayed in the office completing a list Emmett left for me to work on. I spent most of the morning taking care of invoices and filing, then ate my lunch at my desk. The office was quiet the entire day with most of the crew working at various construction sites.
Emmett had created a construction empire in our tiny town. He subcontracted many jobs from the smaller businesses in town and employed a crew of 15 guys, all from Forks and the surrounding towns.
His success was mainly attributed to his fair business practices, honesty, and delivering quality builds. He also made sure his customers were happy with his work long after the final nail was delivered or coat of paint dried.
Another reason why Emmett was popular was his support in many of the local charities. He volunteered himself and some of the crew to help the elderly with the upkeep of their homes or to help convert a home to be handicap accessible. McCarty Construction always participated in the areas Habitat for Humanity projects, but there was not a charity that was more important to him than Peyton's Journey. A small not-for-profit organization that was founded by myself and Rose to help educate parents and child care providers on Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, or SIDS. We also help families that are dealing with the loss by providing names of grief therapists and support groups. The organization was my main focus when I was able to concentrate long enough, although Rose spent much of her time working on our website and dealing with multiple requests when I was unavailable, which has been a lot since Edward showed up in town.
As the afternoon dragged on and I found myself cleaning up Emmett's office. Normally Rose came in once a week to take care of it, but I was going crazy sitting at my desk so I decided to take on the task for myself. Hoping the process of cleaning would be therapeutic and soothe my nerves. Yesterday was a fuck up of epic proportions, the confrontation with Edward and the kiss with Garrett. I was still rattled by all the emotions I felt. Like I had said, my hand was fine compared to thoughts that keep me on edge.
Emmett's desk was a complete disaster zone. Empty coffee cups, protein bar wrappers, newspapers, magazines, and paper covered the surface. Tossing away the trash and arranging the papers in a neat stack I came across several sample invitations.
They were all for the upcoming charity event for Peyton's organization. Beautifully decorated cards. Each one was different themed. There was a black and white ball, carnival theme, and the all too common casino night. It was the last one caught my attention.
At first it seemed unusual, but as I began to think about the idea I began to picture the large reclaimed wood barn Emmett had built on his property. I saw the twinkle lights that were hanging from the rafters, the hay bales positioned in the corners of the barn, and tables set up with fried chicken and salads. We could have a live band and a dance floor. The huge fire pit that was positioned behind the barn could be set up for toasting marshmallows or just relax by the open flame. Maybe Jasper will bring his guitar and sing some of his songs.
My mind was racing as I felt excited. Excited for having a huge party in Peyton's memory while raising money for the organization and maybe I was also excited to have actually had an idea related to this event that did not bring me to my knees in sadness and grief.