A/N:

Beta is Lindz26. Pre-reader is MichelleMMarie—the Arnold Schwarzenegger to my secret housekeeping mistress.

CHAPTER EIGHT
*Stubborn as Hell*

Once I'd cried and calmed down enough to think clearly, I left the confines of the bedroom. I'd locked myself in there for a few hours, so I didn't expect Edward to be around, which he wasn't. Frankly, I wasn't too upset with his absence.

The last couple of days, it'd felt like something was changing between us. Even with his overall disgruntled attitude, I'd begun to trust him. But trust wasn't laid in cement, and lying was a sure-fire way to break it.

The question was why did he lie? I'd done nothing but be honest with him. I had nothing to hide. And though we weren't the best of friends, or friends at all, I still respected him on some level. I mean, the guy saved my life twice already. But apparently, respect didn't go both ways, because saving my life didn't automatically follow-up with telling the truth.

I could hear Sadie and Tucker barking outside. Looking out the window, I saw Edward throwing a stick for them to catch. Tucker beat Sadie to the stick and brought it back to his owner proudly.

I watched them for a little while, observing how normal the picture before me looked. In all honesty, they resembled a family, and that made me wonder—where was my family? Why wasn't I with them? Did I even have one?

Edward suddenly looked in the direction of the cabin and caught my eye. He wore that same expression from when I confronted him earlier. After a moment, he regarded the stick in his hand and then threw it a distance away, returning to the game he was playing with his dogs.

I needed an answer from him. An honest answer. After everything I'd been through physically and emotionally, I didn't deserve this mistreatment. He could yell at me all he wanted, and I could fight back, but lying to me was something I couldn't accept, because it made me feel weak, like I was powerless.

With a deep breath, I pulled open the door slowly. I guess the stick had been thrown pretty far, because the dogs were nowhere to be found. He turned his head to me when the door clicked closed, and we merely stood a small distance from each other, neither of us uttering a word.

I sat down on the porch step just as Sadie came back with the stick in her mouth, Tucker trailing behind. She trotted up to me and dropped it at my feet, so I picked it up and threw it. Once they reached the lone stick, they both battled over it, creating a tug-o-war. When I looked back at Edward, his focus was trained on me, making me feel insecure.

"That night you said you were leaving, I didn't blink an eye," he started in admission. "Even after you left, it didn't register. I told myself it wasn't my problem." He turned his head back in the direction of the dogs. "When I came out of the bedroom later, I saw one those damn petals you're always leaving around. It was under the table. I was about to throw it outside, when it hit me that I'd never see one of those in the house again." He crossed his arms, as if protecting himself.

I knew that was all he was going to say, and honestly, I was fine with that, because I understood him better now. I almost was upset I didn't see it before. In his own way, he actually liked me around. We fought like the dickens, but aside from that, we'd learned to live with each other. He didn't have to let me stay here, but he did. And I didn't have to remain under his roof, but I did.

"Edward," I said, garnering his attention. "Don't you lie to me ever again." It was a warning. If he felt like he held all the cards, he would see that he was wrong.

There was something vulnerable in his eyes that I'd never seen from him. "I won't."

X-X-X-X

My lungs…they were blocked. Oh, God. I can't breathe.

I was spinning and spinning, my body jerked around every which way, as if I weighed no more than a rag doll.

White. That was all I could see with my blurred over eyes.

My skin was numb. Cold. I couldn't feel anything. Was there even hot blood running through me anymore?

All I could do was fight, and so I did. Survive. I needed to survive.

"Petal."

Survive! Keep fighting, damnit!

"Petal!"

My eyes snapped open, and I gasped for air with all my might.

"Shhh, it's okay."

Who was that? "Edward?" I asked frantically into the darkness.

"Yeah, it's me," he whispered. He was only a black figure, kneeling by the side of my bed.

I brought a hand to my forehead, trying to calm myself. My heart was thumping a million miles per hour, slowly decelerating. Tears had collected in my eyes, and when I breathed in shakily, one trickled down my cheek.

Fear was coursing through me like never before. The darkness of the room only added to it. I pulled the blankets off me and got up from the bed.

Edward quickly stood. "What are you doing?" he queried.

"Going to the living room," I answered through shallow breaths, and walked past him.

He caught up with me just as I reached the open doorway. His hand came around my waist. "Hey, just hang on a second," he urged, pulling me back a bit. His arm reached past the wooden doorframe, and suddenly, the living room lit up. He moved his hand to the small of my back and led me to the sofa.

The cushions of the couch were warm from his body lying here not too long ago, and I found comfort in it. He sat next to me and removed his hand from my back. I suddenly realized how significantly I'd relaxed, just by him touching me.

"You okay?" he questioned.

I let out a long, steady sigh. "I am now."

He was quiet for a bit, I think giving me a moment to myself. "What was that about?" he asked, concern laced in his voice.

"I was just dreaming," I said, more to myself than him.

"You were making these choking sounds. I could hear you all the way out here."

A crease formed on my brow, tension building in my forehead. "I was in water, and I couldn't control my body," I spoke. "I couldn't even breathe."

We both were silent for a while. I was lost in my thoughts, remembering the awful dream I'd just had.

"You think you're remembering something from before you washed up?" he questioned.

I hadn't thought of that. "Maybe…" I said, but I didn't really know.

He suddenly got up and disappeared behind the couch. I stayed frozen, thinking how real it'd been. It just didn't seem like something my imagination would make up. Then again, there was no way I could possibly know for sure…unless I miraculously got my memory back.

Edward returned, holding the pillow and blanket from my bed. He set the pillow on the floor. "Lie back," he requested.

I did as he said, resting my head on the pillow he usually slept on. It had the same sort of musky scent his clothes I used to wear had. He undid the blanket and laid it over me, making me feel warm in an instant. I watched him intently as he positioned himself to lay on the ground, parallel to me.

He was staying here.

I felt protected by him. Cared for.

He flipped over on his side, and I couldn't see his face anymore, but it didn't matter, because as long as I knew he was here, I could rest easier.

"You called me Petal," I realized.

He didn't answer.

I closed my eyes and drifted.

X-X-X-X

Survive! Keep fighting, damnit!

It was no use. My body was weaker than my mind, and I knew this was a losing battle.

My head finally came above water, the bright moon obstructing my vision, and I gasped for air with everything I had in me. Just as quickly, I was swept under again.

But I wouldn't give up.

My arms flailed, trying to rise to the surface against the overpowering pressure. Too late. My oxygen had run out again.

Please, don't let me die. Not like this.

"Goddamnit, Petal! Wake up!"

I choked myself awake, coughing and sputtering on air. Edward had his hands wrapped around my upper arms, shaking me lightly. I sat up, taking deep but ragged breaths to try to relax.

"You're okay," Edward soothed.

I swallowed thickly. "You were right," I said. "It was a memory."

He let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. I couldn't imagine he was getting much sleep tonight. "Alright. Why don't you try sleeping again?" he suggested, and lay back on the ground; however, I didn't move. "Why aren't you lying down?"

"I can't," I whispered. "If I do, I'll just have the same dream again, and I won't be able to breathe." There was nothing worse than that feeling of having no oxygen in my lungs. I never wanted to experience it again.

"You'll be fine," he assured.

I shook my head. "No, I need to stay awake." No way was I falling asleep again.

He sat up, anger marring his features. "Lay down," he demanded.

"No," I countered with determination.

He ran a hand over his face, looking defeated. "You can't stay awake."

"I'm not going back to sleep," I said in finality.

"You won't be able to stay up for long."

I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "Watch me."

"No, I won't. I wanna sleep. And you should, too."

I narrowed my eyes. "I don't tell you what to do, so don't tell me what to do."

His jaw clenched, and he returned to a laying position. "Fine," he huffed. "Do whatever the hell you want." He flipped over onto his side, facing away from me.

It only took him five minutes to sit back up.

"Petal, please sleep," he requested, his tone softer than before. "I won't be able to if you don't."

"Why not?"

"Because…" he paused "…I just won't."

I felt bad. He really couldn't fall asleep if I was awake. I didn't want him losing sleep over me, so I decided to comply…sort of. "Fine, I'll lay down," I said, and did just that.

"Good," he responded, and did the same.

I shut my eyes and pretended to be trying to sleep. I could hear him rustling around on the floor. Soon, he stopped and exhaled loudly.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but I'd managed to stay awake, due to sheer will power. Edward's breaths were slow and even, letting me know he was out like a light.

Carefully and quietly, I got up from the sofa, making sure to avoid stepping on his long body, and crept to the front door. It made a creaking sound as I opened, but Edward didn't stir; however, I could see Sadie's beady little eyes staring at me. Thankfully, she didn't follow as I stepped onto the porch and shut the door with a soft click.

It was chilly out, causing me to cross my arms in front of me to retain some heat. I sat on the porch step, looking out into the dark forest surrounding the cabin and listening to the crickets chirp.

How long would it take me to remember my life? Lately, I was remembering bits and pieces—like being allergic to pineapple, or that I'd fought the pull of the river with everything I'd had—but that was it so far. I needed to know more, because it felt like something big was missing from me…lost somewhere down that river.

An unmeasured amount of time passed as I continued sitting. Since I'd managed to get some sleep before, I wasn't that tired, but I knew it would only be a matter of time. I had to fight it.

The sky grew lighter, which meant dawn had approached. I'd stayed awake all night.

The door creaked open behind me, causing me to look over my shoulder. Edward stood in the doorway, in his pajamas. There was a distinct crease on his forehead.

"You lied to me," he accused, his voice hoarse from sleep.

I shook my head. "No, I said I'd lie down, and I did."

"But you didn't sleep."

I turned forward again. "If I sleep, I won't be able to breathe."

He sighed heavily. "Your body will shut down soon."

"No, it won't," I assured, fully believing that if I had the determination to stay up, I could do it.

"God, you're stubborn as hell," he muttered.

The door slammed shut.

The rest of the day was spent taking a shower, getting changed, reading, going for a walk through the forest, and attempting to cook scrambled eggs again, which came out undercooked. At least there were no egg shells in them this time.

Edward went about his usual routines without glancing once in my direction. He took the dogs, his shotgun, and left sometime in the morning, not returning until the afternoon. But when he was back in the house, I could feel him watching me. However, every time I'd look in his direction, I'd be proven wrong.

I'd managed to keep alert throughout the day, but by the start of sunset, it was apparent that I was beginning to tire. My eyelids were drooping, my body felt weaker, and I had a harder time concentrating.

To try to counteract my body's demands, I went for another brief walk through the forest. As I returned, I realized the walk hadn't helped. I was officially tired and ready to sleep. But I couldn't. No, I needed to stay awake.

The front door opened just as I approached the porch. Edward had an eyebrow raised at me.

"I made coffee," he said.

Coffee. Why hadn't I thought of that?

I followed him in, where a hot cup of coffee was waiting for me on the table. I sat down eagerly and drank it, savoring the heat and caffeine mixed together.

"I'm gonna take a nap," he notified. "I'll just be in the bedroom."

I nodded silently and went back to sipping my coffee. This was good. He'd used milk in it.

While waiting for the caffeine to kick in, I battled my eyes. How long did it take for coffee to give someone a boost of energy?

The coffee was gone. I was still tired. In fact, I was even more tired than before. Wasn't coffee supposed to work?

Sadie was sniffing around on the floor, her little nostrils making puffing sounds. She went over by the bedroom door that was ajar. Edward was probably asleep by now.

"Sadie," I whispered, just as she began clawing at the door, trying to get it open. "Get away from there."

She didn't listen, pushing it open with her nose and squeezing her small body through. I shot off my chair to try to get her so she wouldn't disturb Edward. Knowing him, he'd scold her.

The door was half open, and I managed to slip in without it opening more. But when I looked at the bed, there were two clear green eyes staring back at me.

"Oh," I said, surprised, and looked at the length of his body. He had his arms propped under his head, elongating his torso. "You're still awake."

"Can't sleep, I guess," he replied.

Sadie was on the bed, lying by his crossed ankles. I looked at the empty space next to him, taking a step closer. Suddenly, I felt even more tired. Coffee seemed to have no effect on me whatsoever. All I wanted to do right now was fall on the bed and give into my baser instinct to sleep.

"Anything I can do?" I questioned, feeling like a zombie.

"No."

"Is there any reason you can't sleep?"

"Got a lot on my mind," he admitted casually.

I quirked an eyebrow, extremely curious to know what it was he thought about. "Like what?"

He moved one arm from under his head and rested it on the empty spot of the bed. "Do you wanna hear?"

I was shocked. Did he actually want to tell me what he was thinking about? "Really?" I queried.

"Yeah, but I'm not gonna tell you if you're all the way over there, standing like an idiot, so come here." He patted the spot next to him.

I stood, frozen, deciding what to do. He was willingly offering insight into his mind, but I had to lie on the bed in order for that to happen. If I did that, the desire to conk out would be much stronger.

Part of me felt like I was being set up by him, because he was never much of a talker, but this was a rare opportunity. Who knew when he'd be so willing again?

Decided, I got on the bed and lay down next to him, making sure to keep a small distance from his body. I swore I could feel the heat radiating off him.

"So, what were you thinking about?" I asked to start him off.

"I know you found my wedding band," he said.

I blinked rapidly, surprised that he knew that. I felt embarrassed and ashamed, wishing I hadn't snooped. "I…I'm sorry," I spoke quietly. "I got bored one day and couldn't help—"

"You don't need to explain," he interrupted.

"Okay," I said with a frown. "Uh, so you were married?"

He nodded, looking up at the ceiling.

"Did she…Did she die?" I asked cautiously, hoping not to trigger some sort of bad memory of his.

"No," he answered, and sighed. "She's alive."

I furrowed my brow. "Then, what happened?"

"I met her in college. It wasn't long after that we married. Stuff happened, and four years ago, we divorced."

"I'm sorry it didn't work out," I spoke in earnest, feeling a pang in my chest for him. "What's her name?"

"Maggie."

"Ah," I said, and paused. "What sort of stuff happened?"

He shifted a bit, looking reluctant to answer. "Ever heard of Red's Coffee House?" he questioned, and I tried to rack my brain. He turned his head to observe me, then stared back up at the ceiling. "No, I guess you wouldn't. Anyway, it's a coffee chain. Top ten largest in the US. My dad served in 'Nam. When he got home, he started a small coffee dive called Redwood's Coffee House."

"In this town?" I asked.

He nodded. "Anyway, I was born and raised here, so I practically grew up going there. I'd even worked there in my teens. Around the time I met her, Dad had a stroke. He didn't last much longer after that, and the coffee house went to me."

"I'm sorry," I apologized sympathetically. "What about your mom?"

"She left around the time I turned two," he admitted. "Was just me and my dad."

I frowned, sad that he only had a father. "That's awful."

"It's fine. I got over it later," he spoke. "Dad was all I got, and I wanted to show him I was doing something with my life, so I took his coffee house, changed the name a bit, and expanded it. It took a while and a lot of patience, but it happened." He shook his head, as if remembering something. "I didn't realize how much it would take over my life, though."

"What do you mean?" I asked quietly.

"Maggie knew how important my work was. She even said she admired my ambition and determination. I had goals, and I didn't stop until I achieved them—first with expanding to Southern California, then the west coast, the Midwest, and finally, the east, until there were chains in almost every populated city around the country.

"Expanding became my number one priority, so I had us move to Los Angeles where headquarters was set up. Things changed when we moved. I'd spend hours at the office, not coming home until the morning. I'd work on the weekends. I'd even cancel dinner reservations with her at the last minute if I felt like I needed to put in more time at the office.

"For years, she said nothing, and I continued exactly what I was doing. Out of the blue one time, she said things were wrong in our marriage, that I wasn't paying attention to her. After that, the arguing started, and I distanced myself more. At the time, the way I saw it, nothing was as important as my business, and she knew what I was about when she first married me, so she had no reason to complain."

He cleared his throat and continued, "One day, I came home to find her stuff gone. She left me a note saying she'd fallen in love with someone else and was leaving me." He chuckled, though there was no amusement in it. "I was pissed. Really pissed. My thoughts were only that I couldn't believe she'd have the audacity to leave someone like me, not that she'd had an affair and left me for him. Later, I checked up on the guy she left me for and found out he was just some penniless photographer. Nothing special at all. So, when the divorce came, I figured she'd try to get the best settlement out of me…but that wasn't the case."

"What'd she ask for?" I inquired on bated breath.

"Nothing," he answered, sounding in awe of himself. "She asked for nothing. Not one damn thing. Not one of our cars, not the condo she loved up in Stinson Beach, not even Sadie. Just the divorce." He shook his head.

"Sadie was her dog?" I questioned.

"When we moved out to Los Angeles, she bought Sadie, and I bought Tucker. That was her dog, and she left the thing with me," he spat. "She didn't want it. What was I going to do, throw the thing out?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Sadie is not an it or a thing. She's a living, breathing animal."

He glared at me and then huffed.

I sighed. "Look, I'm sorry about your wife…er…ex-wife," I corrected. "That was wrong what she did. She could've at least talked to you."

"She warned me she'd leave," he said. "I didn't believe her. I thought she was full of it. And when she asked for nothing…" he swallowed thickly "it just made me rethink…everything. She was more than happy to live some poor life with a nobody than with someone accomplished. What did that say about me? That was when I realized I loved my work more than her. More than anything, really.

"Some people are addicted to drugs, alcohol; I was addicted to my job. I loved it. I needed it. And it cost me my marriage." He looked at me, so much doubt and insecurity there. "My dad would've torn me a new one if he saw what I did to his little hole in the wall coffee dive. I'd destroyed it. So, I sold everything and left it all behind. I couldn't stay in LA anymore, because that was where everything went south, where my greed was fueled, giving me exactly what I wanted. I moved back here and haven't left since."

"Edward," I started in assurance, "I'm sure your dad would've been proud of you regardless."

He shook his head. "The original coffee house—the one that started it all—it's gone. Got rid of it. It wasn't about him anymore. It became about me."

"But are you happy like this?"

"This is my birth town," he said. "My dad used to take me hunting with him in those woods out there. I drove my first car down that road. This is where I should've lived with Maggie."

I frowned, looking down at the blanket. "You miss her?"

"After she chose that ridiculous photographer over me? She can burn in hell."

My eyes lifted to his. "You must be lonely," I observed.

He was watching me closely. "Not so much," he spoke softly, and then looked to the ceiling. "I've lived by myself for four years now. I go up to the tavern once a week, and that's about it. This is where I'll die."

I pursed my lips. "You haven't tried going back to LA?"

"I'll never go back there," he practically growled. "Sometimes, when I go to Redwood City, and I see that damn Starbucks there, all I can think about is how my chain could've become like them if I'd kept at it. I could've gone global, infiltrated Wi-Fi, partnered up with Apple to bring music into the stores…" His voice trailed in wonderment. He was getting lost in his head.

"Edward?" I asked, trying to garner his attention.

He looked at me, snapping out of his reverie. "Hmm?"

"Is that why you only go once a week?"

"Yeah."

Even though he had problems in his past, at least he had something. What did I have? I couldn't even remember anything. In all honesty, I'd trade his life for my nothing life. "I envy you," I admitted.

"What?" he asked, sounding disgusted. "Why is that?"

"You have memories. You have a dad who you remember. A childhood. You went to college, you married, you had a business…you lived a life."

"Petal, I lived a shit life. In the end, it all meant nothing. How the hell do you envy someone like that?"

"I just do," I whispered. "Do you think there's someone out there that loves me?"

He didn't reply straight away. "Yes," he answered, sounding certain.

I wanted to believe him. I wished more than anything I had a family, with people that loved me. Content with his answer, I allowed my eyes to close, tired of trying to keep them open.