As we all know, I am, unfortunately, no Stephenie Meyer – All Twilight Characters belong to her.
Chapter 1: EPOV
"Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened"
~ T.S. Eliot
.
Brown silk, cascading. Brown eyes, vacant.
She puts her head down to hide the emotion but it's there. I see it in the way she walks, the way her shoulders are slumped, the way her lips move without their usual animation.
I can't hear what she is saying. I can just see her. From the moment she walked in and joined her friends at the corner table, I knew that it was a bad day.
They seemed to be getting closer together.
At first she always came in smiling and laughing. She used to make the room stop. She commanded the attention, without even being aware of it - the moment she walked in, the entire place seemed brighter. Now, though, now it was just my world that stopped. Now it was just me that noticed her entry and it shattered me every time she came in so quietly. So distracted. She seemed small, fragile – vulnerable.
Broken.
It made my heart clench. Along with my fists.
I wanted to kill the fucker who did it.
I had only seen him here once.
She had been sitting exactly where she was now, but the scene was entirely different. She was a rainbow. Laughing, smiling, completely unaware of all the eyes watching and gaining something from just being in the same room as her.
That's until he walked in. It was almost instantaneous. Her entire demeanour changed. I watched her withdraw, leaving just a shell.
It happened within minutes. All it took was his presence and she was gone. I was probably the only one who noticed the complete 360⁰ in her body language, but everyone felt the loss once she left.
A few whispered words was all it took and she was gone. All fake smiles and hurried goodbyes.
I probably should have thought that something bad must have happened – an emergency of sorts. That's what one would normally assume, right? Well, maybe I would have if it weren't for the way his entire stance portrayed one of control, of power and of anger. He was pissed. And from his body language and the way his face changed when he looked at her – I could tell she was the one who had pissed him off.
It made no sense at the time. I mean, what could someone like her ever do to make someone so pissed off?
But it was irrelevant because the next day I saw her, she was wearing altogether too much clothes and make up, and she only removed her sun glasses once she was seated in her dark little corner.
Yeah, I knew what that meant.
Apparently her friends didn't.
Either that, or they choose not to see it. I refuse to believe that they are ignoring it. Not Alice anyway. She would definitely do something if she knew.
Speak of the devil.
"Hey, Ed. Can we get a refill?"
I walk over to her. "Yeah sure. Same as always?"
"Yip." She pops the 'p'.
I make their drinks and try not to think about the vacant eyes that haunt me.
I bring them over to her. "Who's tab you using this time?"
"Jazz." Yeah. What's new.
"Thanks, Ed." She says as she grabs the drinks and makes her way back.
I watch her grab her drink as Alice puts it in front of her. She grabs the straw and the drink doesn't stand a chance. It's finished in seconds.
Her chair gets pushed back as she stands. The grating noise startles her but she shrugs it off and walks toward the bar.
My heart clenches even more. I pretend I am busy. I know it's wrong but I need to hear her voice.
She clears her throat as she stops right where Alice was only moments ago.
I continue to wipe the counters.
"Edward."
There it is. My entire body reacts to my name falling from her lips.
I look up at her. "Finished already?"
"Um... yeah." She sounds hesitant. "Could I get two shots and a refill?"
She doesn't need to elaborate. "Sure."
I take the two shot glasses and place them in front of her before grabbing the bottle of Patron. As soon as I pour one, its already in her hand and down her throat.
One. Two. I pour a third before starting on the refill.
"Bad day?" I ask.
She forces a laugh. "Yeah. You know, work's stressful and all that."
She has no idea how much I know.
"Yeah, and all that." I respond, as I place her drink down in front of her.
"Wanna talk about it?"
I know her answer. "There's not much to say. Same old, same old." She starts digging in the purse she brought with her.
My hand comes out to stop her, but she flinches and once again my heart clenches.
"It's on me," I say.
I'm expecting the fight. It normally gains me a few more minutes, but there isn't one. She just shrugs and a small "thanks" leaves her lips as she turns to walk back to the table.
She sways a little before she sits down again.
I wish I could do something but I know the consequences of interfering and I am too afraid.
xxxxxx
.
It's that time of the day and I hate it. Everything is quiet and that gives me too much time to think. My apartment is empty and not in the physical way, but in the way the makes you feel alone even if you aren't.
I can hear banging coming from the kitchen. Rose is up.
I get up out of bed and put on some pants. I walk into the kitchen to see Rose standing still with the pan in her hands, hovering above the stove.
"Do you need some help?" I say it softly. I don't want to startle her. Her emotions are all over the place.
She drops the pan and turns to face me. She is smiling.
"The baby just kicked!" Her excitement is evident.
She walks to me and grabs my hand, placing it on her over-sized belly. Nothing happens.
"I swear it did." Her face drops slightly but I can see she is concentrating, trying to coax the baby into kicking again.
She sighs. "Murphy's law." I say as I take my hand away and move toward the ready-made coffee.
I pour myself some and take a seat at the dining room table.
"Maybe I'm just imagining it. All the baby books I've read said 4 months is around the time where you start to feel kicking." She turns back to the stove and continues with her plan of making breakfast. It looks like pancakes.
"You want some?" She asks.
I want to laugh. Never in a million years, did I think I'd ever hear Rosalie offering me food. Pregnancy becomes her.
"Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks."
The door swings open and I jump.
"Jesus, Em. Could you at least try not to scare the shit out of us?"
He laughs, loudly.
"Hey babe." He says to Rose as he leans in to kiss her while simultaneously rubbing her stomach.
"Oh my god! Did you feel that?" Rose exclaims. Her face is filled with pure elation.
Emmett's freezes.
"Was that... the – the baby?" He finally says.
"I'm not crazy!" Rose smiles brightly and looks up at Emmett.
His face is pure adoration as he looks down at her.
I feel like I am intruding.
xxxxxx
.
It's Thursday and I know that I'll get to see her again. I am hoping for a good day.
She doesn't arrive. It makes me nervous but Alice and Angela aren't here either so I tell myself that they have just made other plans.
xxxxxx
.
Friday is slow.
The day crawls past and just before closing, the door swings open and reveals the cascading silk that makes my entire body hum.
It is not a quiet entrance, but it is not a good day.
She sits down across from me and I freeze. Her lip is cut and I can see the beginning of the blue around her left eye.
I have no filter this time.
'What the fuck did he do?" I try not to shout, but I fail.
She flinches and stares at me wild-eyed.
"Wh-what?" She asks. But her eyes tell me she knows what I mean.
"Don't try that with me!"
She forces a laugh again and it makes my blood boil.
"Oh... my... uh, face?" She snorts. "I'm clumsy." She tries to make it sound funny.
Clumsy my fucking arse.
"What? Did you fall on his fist?" I ask. Because I cannot stop myself. We're alone. The pub is empty.
She continues to stare at me. Her eyes are afraid and I can see that she wants to run.
For some reason she doesn't though. She reigns her emotions in and juts her chin out defiantly.
"I don't know what you are trying to insinuate, or who you are talking about, but can we save the 'help the damsel in distress' shit and can you just get me two shots?"
To say I'm shocked is an understatement.
I stare at her for a few moments, I want her to know that I know, before I grab the Patron and put it in front of her. I grab two shot glasses and begin to pour.
She just watches me. I try to think of happy things but the anger in my blood is not just for her and it is impossible to calm down.
Once I'm finished pouring, I fix my eyes on hers as I grab one of the shots and down it.
Her eyes widen slightly. I will not back down although I am not entirely sure what I am trying to accomplish.
She plays along and downs her shot. Our eyes are still locked.
I grab the bottle and pour again. Her eyebrows lift.
Apparently we are both hell bent on not backing down.
After several shots – I lost count – I begin to feel the welcome tingle running through me. My blood is no longer boiling.
The silence is deafening and our eyes are still locked.
A smile tugs at her lips and she flinches as though she had forgotten the cut there.
That is all it takes and she is gone.
I go around the bar and try to follow her but all I see, when I make it out, are tail lights.
Once I get home, I am grateful for the buzz as it makes it easier to fall asleep.
I don't see her the rest of the weekend. I see Alice on Saturday but she doesn't say anything so I tell myself that she is alright.
xxxxxx
.
Monday is my day off and I spend it with Rose. She talks non-stop about the baby. She shows me Saturday's scan and I am happy for them.
I go to my parents for dinner. Esme makes lasagna.
"Are you okay, honey?" She asks while she places the dish in the oven.
Sitting on the counters while she cooks takes me back to when I was 13 and brooding. All our bonding was done in this kitchen.
I sigh. Esme misses nothing.
"I've met someone," I start, but realize too late how it sounds.
"Oh that's great!" She exclaims and the smile I see there, breaks my heart. Esme wants nothing more than for me to find my 'match'. She has no idea.
"It's not like that." I say hurriedly, but the damage is done. She doesn't believe me.
"Mom." I say, trying to get her to understand. "It's someone that comes into the pub sometimes." The smile still remains.
"She has bruises. She tries to hide them. But I can see them."
And her smile is gone.
She walks over to me and places her hand on my shoulder.
"Oh, honey. Of course you see them."
"I don't know what to do about it. I want to help, but I don't want to make it worse, you know?"
I look into her eyes and I see the tears there. "How bad is it?" She asks gently.
"It's gotten worse in the last few weeks. I tried to talk to her." I don't mention the way it happened because I know that it doesn't really constitute trying. "But she won't admit it."
"You know how it is, she's obviously petrified."
"That's the thing, Ma. I don't know what to do. I want to help but I know what that can end up causing!"
"Maybe you should call the authorities." Her voice is only a whisper but the words are so harsh they cut like a knife.
"I can't do that!" I say.
"Not all of these situations end up like they did with your... mom." She is trying to help me. I know she is just trying to make me see that things could be different here, but I can't risk it.
"I can't risk that. I can't risk that happening to her."
"What else is there to do? If you ignore it, it isn't going to help either!"
"I know! I hate it. There is nothing I can do that I know will fix it!" My voice is louder than I mean it to be.
"Maybe you should just keep trying to talk to her. Maybe if she felt she had someone to talk to - someone safe - She'd trust you and then you can call the authorities and make a plan to help her."
As Esme's words sink in, I feel the rightness in them. I can do this. I can help her.
xxxxxx
.
It has been a couple of weeks since my visit with Esme. Her words are only an echo. I no longer believe them.
She hasn't been back to the pub since I called her out. Alice has been in a few times with Jazz, but there is no sign of the silky cascades.
I try to get something out of Alice one night.
"So," I draw it out. "You've been scarce lately." I attempt to sound teasing.
"Yeah, well, there's this new place in Port Angeles that we've been going to." I'm relieved but hurt, even though I shouldn't be.
Alice doesn't notice and she keeps going.
"It's a trendy place and Ang has a thing for this guy that goes there often." She sighs.
"But don't worry, Ed. It's just a phase. This..." She gestures around the room, " is home." She smiles at me, but I am not convinced.
xxxxxx
.
It's Friday and I wake up on the wrong side of the bed. I am frustrated and angry at myself. It has been a long time since I have cared and I don't like the feeling. Helplessness. It takes me back to a time where I don't want to be.
I feel things I don't want to feel.
The last few nights have been restless. Filled with nightmares and memories I don't want to have.
Scared eyes. Angry voices. Cracks, grunts, sobbing and screams of pain. They always end with flashes of blue and red lights.
I am tired and snappy. I am grateful that Emmett and Rose have decided to go away for the weekend and left early this morning. I wouldn't have to pretend at least.
I get to the pub around 10 am to open up. It's quiet and I try to enjoy the serenity. I try to just feel in the present and not to dwell on the things gone by.
By 1 'o clock it is time to close up. It has been a quiet night - the end of the month always is - and I am feeling a bit lighter.
That is until the door swings open.
I'm stunned by the sight.
It's obvious that it is a good day... or maybe it has been a good few weeks. The fact that I don't know anymore makes my anger peak.
She doesn't go to the corner table but instead walks directly to the bar and sits down.
I try to ignore her. I try to not react to the way the room suddenly feels full and bright. I am pissed.
"Edward," the usual reaction is stunted by more fury.
I look at her. "What do you want?" I ask. I try to remove the anger from my tone and it just comes out cold.
"Um..." She seems taken aback. "I'll just get something light. Corona?"
"Sure." I say. My tone is clipped but at least I am not yelling like I want to. I want to tell her to get out of my life. I want to tell her to stay away. I want to tell her to please never leave. I hate the way she makes me feel so weak and almost pathetic, but it cannot be helped.
I fetch her beer and walk away to the back to gain some distance. I know I need to calm down and find the place I was at before she walked in.
After a few minutes I return to the bar and begin the task of clearing away all the remnants of the night and start with the ringing up of the till. I try to keep the hum in the air at bay but I find that some things are extremely difficult to ignore.
I look at her and see that she is almost finished her beer. I walk over to find out if she wants another but before I can ask, she opens her mouth and blurts, "So how are you, Edward?"
The speed and hesitance in her words are confusing. Is she uncomfortable because she knows I know? Is she here trying to make me think I was wrong?
My silence spurs her on. "I haven't been here in a while, so, I just, I mean. Yeah."
I answer.
"Good. Same old, same old. You?" My tone remains clipped.
"Um... good. Better." She looks at me through her lashes and I can see the hidden meaning there. Why is she here?
I can't help myself. "So where've you been lately?"
Her smile is soft. "I've just been taking it a little easier."
"Listen," She starts and I can feel her nerves. "I just want to apologize for... you know, the last time."
A/N: Let me know what you thought :-)