A/N: Heartfelt thanks, as always, to my beta and friend Ms Kathy.
This is the chapter where things go awry, something that was bound to happen with this many secrets, unasked – and unanswered – questions, and wrong assumptions.
##
September was a downer month for Edward. Some of his friends returned to school; more of them were heading off into new career adventures with newly minted diplomas and a last summer of goofing off behind them. He was still young enough that September – not January – felt like the true new year. Labor Day came and went for Edward, just another weekend in an endless series. Nothing changed for him.
He was determined that this would be the last September like that.
Although he could barely admit it to himself (let alone his parents), Edward knew that the past eight months working full time at Poppy's had been good for him. For the first time in his life, he had taken a job seriously, and turned out to be rather good at it as a result. His debt to his father was nearly paid off. And he had met Bella.
It was the week after Labor Day, and Edward had made his decision. He would go back to school next year – but this time, it would be on his own terms. While he wouldn't end up with the university degree his parents had so desperately wanted for him, he did hope he'd come out with the skills to earn a living – and not as a server at the diner. Instead, he would try his hand at graphic design.
Edward had looked it all up on the Internet, and even picked up a course catalog from a local college. Now he wanted to show it to Bella and get her opinion. Once he had her approval, then he would go to his parents and tell them of his plans.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He slipped it out under the counter and looked at it. Speak of the devil. It was Bella pinging him.
Where are you? Tell me you're at the diner.
He grinned and quickly typed back. Yes, Im here. Come visit?
The response came flying back a moment later. I'm on my way. Be there in 20 mins.
Edward scoped the restaurant – it was the quiet part of the afternoon, so there were only a few tables occupied. He made the rounds, freshening coffee and drinks, ensuring that all his customers were happy. Poppy was in the back somewhere, Jasper was out having his lunch break, but he knew Rosalie would cover for him if he wanted to spend a few minutes chatting with Bella. He was off at 4:30 today; maybe he and Bella could go for a drink together after his shift.
He went to the front door, writing the evening's specials on the white board in his unexpectedly graceful handwriting. A few minutes later, he saw a black Town Car pull smoothly up to the curb in front of the restaurant. The back door flew open, and Bella scrambled out. Edward barely had time to put down his marker when she came flying through the front door. Her toe caught on the door sill, but Edward caught her neatly in his arms as she stumbled.
He expected her to pull away once she'd regained her balance, but instead, she wrapped her arms around his body and clung to him fiercely. Bella's face was pressed against his chest, her hair right below his nose. She smelled good, she always did – like butterflies or spring flowers. For a long moment, Edward just held her in his arms, soaking in her warmth and sweet scent. It felt so good to hold her like this, although he was more than a little worried that the proximity of a female body might make his dick wake up and take notice. But he pushed that thought to the back of his mind and savored the moment.
Finally, Bella moved back a little, looking up at him. She was flushed, and her eyes were full of some unknown emotion. Edward studied her face, wondering what was different about her. She was dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans, and unexpectedly looked younger, sleeker.
"Hey," he said, a little off balance. "I haven't seen you for a while. I missed you. And I have a lot of stuff to tell you. I'm thinking of going …"
"Edward," she interrupted, but he was in full flight now.
"… to this college to take a course in graphic …" She tapped his chest lightly and locked her eyes on his to focus his attention.
"Edward," Bella repeated. "I can't stay long. I'm on my way to the airport." She turned and pointed through the window to where the black car sat idling at the curb. "The driver is waiting for me, but I've only got a couple of minutes."
"But I wanted to tell you about my plans for school next year," he said, giving his best pout. Edward knew from experience that his pout was irresistible. For a moment, Bella's eyes focused intently on his lower lip – but just as quickly, they bounced back up again.
"You don't understand," said Bella. Then she paused and bit her own lip. "I wasn't supposed to go until next week, but Alex called me in early and…" Bella stopped, her face filled with anxiety. "I thought I would have more time to explain this to you."
"Explain what?"
"I have to go away, Edward. I'm not going to see you for a while." Edward smiled.
"You go away all the time, I know. It's okay. I'll be here when you get back." Bella's face still looked anguished, and a tendril of unease started to stir in his belly. "Like, how long are you going to be away?"
"For the rest of the year," she whispered.
Edward's jaw dropped in shock. "What? What do you mean, the rest of the year? It's only September." He looked back out at the black car. "Where's Frankie? Are you leaving her behind?"
"Frankie stays with her father when I do this. It's not the first time." Bella's voice was steady but sad. "I get to come home sometimes, and Frankie will come spend a weekend or two with me. She did the last time I went out on the road."
"You've done this before," breathed Edward. "What is 'this', Bella? Are you going on a vacation?" His eyes suddenly burned fiercely. "No one is making you do this, are they? You're not in any trouble?"
"No, little one. Not at all," said Bella with a tiny smile. "You're so dramatic. No, this is work, that's all."
"What kind of work asks you to leave your kid and travel around for months at a time?" he demanded, wanting to shake her until she told him the truth. Emotions churned inside him – fear, frustration, sadness.
"My kind of work," Bella replied. "The kind of work that pays mortgages, private school tuition, and big tips for sweet waiters." But Edward shook his head angrily, coppery hair trembling.
"No, don't blow me off again. You tell me," he said, taking her hands in his own. "You tell me where you're going and what you're doing." Bella looked away miserably.
"Edward, no. Please. I'll tell you, but not now, not here. Not in the middle of your work with the limo waiting outside. I thought I would have more time to tell you my own way, but things just got away from me …"
"No … no, it doesn't matter, you need to tell me." Everything started boiling inside him, making it harder and harder to think before doing. He had to convince her to tell him! But Bella was looking up and over his shoulder, and Edward knew that he had lost.
"Bella," came Poppy's voice behind him. "Everything okay here?"
"Yes, Poppy," she replied. "I've been called to New York a little earlier than expected, so I had the limo stop on the way to the airport so I could say goodbye to Edward." Bella glanced at her watch and made a face. "I need to get going if I have any chance of catching my flight." Her thumb rubbed gently against the back of his hand as she looked at him. "I'll call you, write to you. I promise."
Edward could feel the situation slipping away from him, feel Bella slipping away from him. Helplessness and frustration took hold, and the urge to hit back at the person who was causing him pain became imperative. He took a calculated guess at what would hurt Bella the most, and then spoke.
"Call me?" he said. "Write? Why? What good are you without the tips?"
He could not have gotten a greater reaction if he had struck her. Bella flinched away from him, dropping his hands like they were on fire. Her face crumpled, and she let out a little sobbing gasp. She looked at him in disbelief, then the expression faded from her eyes.
"Not much good at all, it seems," she said. Tears gathering in her eyes, Bella looked past Edward. "Goodbye then, everyone," she said. She turned so he could not see her face anymore "Goodbye, Edward." And she was gone. A moment later, the limo pulled away from the curb into Chicago traffic.
Edward didn't move. He stood there, heart pounding as the adrenaline slowly leaked out of his system. One of his few remaining customers got up, pressed the little black bill tray into his cold fingers and walked quickly out. Edward could hear the whispers of his coworkers, and the muted sound of television over the counter.
There was a murmur behind him as Poppy shooed people back to work. Still Edward stood, clutching the black plastic tray. Then he turned and walked blindly through the restaurant and out the back door into the alley.
What just happened?
He played back the scene in his mind, watching it unfold in his imagination again and again. He heard the words he'd said, watched them strike and shatter Bella's fragile ego as clearly as if he'd stomped on a house of cards. Over and over.
She was the best thing that had come into his life in years. And he had destroyed their indefinably magical relationship with just seven words.
With an anguished cry, Edward flung the black tip tray against the brick wall of the restaurant where it shattered into tiny splinters of plastic. He pressed his face against the warm bricks and tried not to cry. He was still there when Jasper found him half an hour later.
##
When Edward woke up the next morning – actually afternoon, he realized, squinting at the clock – he was face down in his own bed. He was alone. Thank God, he thought blearily. He had a vague recollection of Jasper bringing him home after an impromptu night out on the town.
He was still in his clothes, he realized as he rolled over slowly. Edward's mouth felt like it was lined with cotton, and he had a thunderous headache. He shuffled to the bathroom, drank three or four glasses of water and took a few aspirin. As he returned to his bed, he spotted his iPhone on the bedside table. He had another hazy memory of Jasper taking the phone away from him so that he didn't drunk-text Bella and cause even more damage.
Suddenly, yesterday's ugly confrontation in the diner came back to him full force, and he collapsed on the bed, squeezing his eyes shut. Edward groaned – he had been such an idiot! He needed to fix this, text her right now and apologize. Hadn't she said she would call, text him? Didn't she always forgive him when he slipped up? He would make it right and then they would be friends again.
He grabbed the phone and checked to see if Bella had already texted him to initiate the conversation, like she usually did. Edward found not one but two texts from her right away. He ignored the rest of his messages (including three from Tanya, who had most likely heard what had happened at the diner yesterday). They had been sent last evening, he noted. He clicked the first one open.
Not sure what happened earlier. Guess I made some wrong choices. You'll understand why soon enough. I hope you can forgive me.
Edward was surprised. He had expected a royal ass-kicking, not an apology. He opened the second text.
It's better if we take a break before we hurt one another any more. Be safe, love.
He frowned at the screen. Take a break. What did that mean? They weren't dating, so she wasn't dumping him – no one did that to Edward Cullen anyway. Take a break from being friends? Take a break from talking to one another?
Uneasy, he texted her back.
Im sorry to. I didn't mean what I said, I was angry. What u mean take a break?
Usually Bella responded to his texts quickly, but this time, she was away from her phone. After a few minutes of waiting, Edward gave up and took a shower. He checked the phone again when he was done. No response.
It wasn't until he was in the bathroom combing out his hair that he remembered Bella had looked different yesterday. Younger, somehow. He looked at his hair, turned dark brown by the water from his shower. When it dried, it lightened in color, the red strands standing out brightly against the brown…
Bella's hair. It had been smooth and silky under his fingers. And entirely, uniformly dark brown. There had been no frizz, none of the trademark grey that he always saw standing out clearly in the soft fall of her hair. She had colored her hair, and exceedingly well too.
He looked at his phone again, but there was still no answer.
##
A/N: I'm sure you've all noticed that these chapters follow the months of the year. Which means, yes, we're getting very close to the end of the story – and to the answers to all your questions. The next chapter will likely bring much of what you've been looking for. In the meantime, I appreciate your reviews – please let me know what you think so far.