o
"I'm finished here," she says, her happiness clear even over the phone.
"How does it look?"
"Very good. We'll have to hang four more photographs tomorrow, but the guys wanted to call it a day."
Edward sighs.
"You mean you have to go back tomorrow?"
He looks at the table he's set with flowers and champagne.
"Actually, the weather's getting more awful by the minute, and they predicted a storm. I think I'd better stay overnight."
He can hear the regret in her voice.
"Oh, no… I was looking forward to tonight. I already ordered your favourite from The River Café. You don't want to know what I had to promise Federico so he'd have it delivered. You know they don't do that normally."
"I don't know… it's really rainy…"
"Please? It's our anniversary…"
o
Edward woke with a start. Blinking, he looked at the alarm and was surprised that it was already seven. Still early, but he usually woke in the middle of the night when he dreamed of her.
It had been horrible in the beginning, when he hadn't been able to sleep for more than two uninterrupted hours. Dr. Greene had finally prescribed him some sleeping pills, along with the strong warning to not mix them with alcohol. After a couple of weeks, Edward had decided that the Glenlivet was helping him better than the pills.
Dr. Greene had recommended a therapist, and after his mum and sister had badgered him for weeks, he'd made an appointment with Dr. Young. He had visited Claire, as she'd asked him to call her, once a week for a year, and to some point, it had helped to just talk about Irina. She helped him to get the drinking, which was getting dangerous, under control. Not to a point that he'd not do it, but at least he wasn't trying to kill himself any longer. He still went to see her sometimes when things looked black.
The last time he'd consulted with her, she had asked him whether he'd ever thought about dating again, and he'd almost laughed, because the thought seemed absurd.
Why was he remembering this now?
Edward got up. His first instinct still was to go to the kitchen and grab a can of dog food, but instead he went straight to the bathroom.
He was not looking forward to the morning ahead, but the thought of going to Bella's afterward helped immensely.
He stepped into the shower.
Last night, he had fallen asleep immediately, as if Bella's presence had enwrapped him with some sort of shielding cloak.
She was such a beautiful girl. No, not girl, surely young woman was the right term? She was twenty-four. His mum had been twenty-six when he was born. Edward counted in his head while he took a hot shower. That mean she'd been twenty-two when Ro had made her appearance. And twenty-four when Anna had come, and gone.
His mum had been Bella's age when she'd suffered the greatest tragedy of her life, the birth and death of her second daughter. She'd died from sudden infant death syndrome at ten weeks of age, and Edward had often wondered what had given his parents the strength to continue.
Loosing your child had to be ten times more hellish than loosing your husband or wife. He admired Esme for coping with that. She'd even had the courage have another baby – himself.
They had had many conversations in the past, when Edward had been at his lowest point. How did she manage to go on, he'd asked his mother many times. Her reply had always been the same.
Faith, hope, and love were what it basically came down to.
Faith, that things would get better.
Hope, that there was a sense to what had happened.
Love for her husband, and her daughters. And ultimately, her little son, her treasure.
Edward shook his head as he wrapped himself into a towel.
He knew exactly why he drank. So as to stop the incessant THINKING.
oOo
Dear readers, I hope you're not getting too impatient with these two. It's just a question of time, and I promise not to draw things out indefinitely. There are good times ahead, trust me, I just wrote them
Thank you for all your wonderful reviews, you guys are the best!