oOo
As February arrived, it got warmer, but also very rainy.
Things at Whitlock's Brand were slow, which was okay with Bella, who had to write an essay on the social origins of speech patterns and was up to her ears in work.
Edward was putting the last touches on the painting he had named Winter in Wales. It depicted a rough sea and a barren beach. The only bright spot was a solitary figure in a yellow raincoat and wellies. Despite her being alone, it was clear that she was content.
It was one of Bella's favourites.
With the opening only ten days away, a lorry had taken a lot of Edward's works to the gallery. She could tell he was getting nervous, and more often than not, he spent half the night at his studio. He would go to bed with her and she'd fall asleep, and then, at some point during the night, he would leave her side because he couldn't sleep.
She didn't question him, respecting that this was the way he worked, and had been for many years. As long as he was with her in the morning – and he always was – it was okay with her.
Bella had no problem allowing others their freedom. In Edward's case, it was his need to be by himself, which she understood.
They were learning more about each other every day, and there was little about Edward she didn't like. He was not without his faults, but even his faults were endearing. His little quirks made him more lovable.
He was extremely attentive and sweet, always wanting to make sure she was well and happy. With Edward, there were so many small things that made her feel cherished and cared for, be it a foot massage or a cup of coffee on waking. He never stopped telling her that she was beautiful, and sometimes, when she was in his arms, she could believe him.
She had never experienced the sort of physical bond she had with Edward with anybody else. They were effortless, they were perfection.
She had also never experienced the kind of physical pleasure he brought her. She still tended to be shy sometimes, for the simple fact that he was much more experienced, but he had this way of making her feel at ease. She could fly with him.
Edward was thoughtful on many levels. He kept the chestnut that she had given him early on during one of their walks in the park. It was on the table in his studio. On a tiny pillow of blue velvet. Her eyes had grown wet when she noticed it the first time.
It was a grey Thursday, one week before the opening, and she was summarizing notes in the library, when her phone beeped softly with an incoming message.
My mum called & invited us for Sunday tea. Would that be okay with you? All my love, my lovely love, E.
She smiled. He'd mentioned that his mother wanted to meet her, and Bella was glad if it didn't have to take place the first time at the exhibition. From what Edward told her, there was no reason to be wary of his family, and she already knew Rosalie, who'd been extremely kind that night in October when Bella had ruined her shirt.
Of course, she replied. I'll be home in an hour, love you.
It was only when she had pressed the send button that she realized what she'd written, and blushed from the roots of her hair downward.
oOo
Okay, I have a question for you. With my current schedule, I am not able to give you a fresh chapter every day. Would you rather have a couple of chapters a week, or longer breaks in between and accordingly more chapters in a row?
This story started as something fun and short to help me over a dry spell – and it has become much bigger. I love the way you react and how you love Edward despite his problems… But I have to give him time to heal if I want to do it right.
I have UNFOLDING figured out and I promise not to abandon it, but I can't keep up the tempo.
Please tell me your thoughts.
Love,
harperpitt