Edward drove to Seattle and parked in front of a fancy, expensive looking, French restaurant. He came around and opened my door for me, and then offered his arm. I took it, and he handed his keys to the valet at the door. The valet went to park the car, and Edward led me inside.
Once inside he gave the waiter his name, and we were led to a table for two in the back, away from everyone else. The waiter said something in French, and Edward responded. The waiter gave a little bow and left. Edward pulled out my chair, and I sat down. Once I was sitting, he pushed the chair in, and went to his own.
The waiter returned shortly with two menus. He handed one to Edward, and when he handed me the other, he grabbed my hand and kissed it.
"May I bring anything to the lovely mademoiselle?" he inquired. Edward's eyes turned black, and I fought to hide a smile.
"Some fine wine would be lovely, monsieur," I answered. "Edward, darling, would you like anything?"
"No," Edward answered venomously, and glared at the waiter. The waiter seemed to take the hint.
"I shall return with the wine for the belle mademoiselle" the waiter promised. Another bow and he was gone.
"I didn't know that you drank," Edward commented as his eyes returned to their normal butterscotch color.
"There's a lot about me that you don't know anymore," I informed him. "I'm 22 now, not 18."
"I did notice that," Edward said sadly. "You just didn't strike me as the type who would ever drink."
"I'm not a heavy drinker," I scoffed. "But I enjoy a good wine every once and awhile."
"You seem so different than when I left," Edward mused.
"The love of your life, or so I thought, leaving you tends to have the effect on people," I answered. "I've moved on to the happy human life you wanted me to have. I have Mark, I get drunk occasionally, I've had sex and eaten fine foods and delicacies and any time now Mark might get me pregnant. What more did you want for me to do with my life? I was content with spending the rest of my life with you, even if I can't be immortal, but you left, and that didn't leave me much choice but to move on. You didn't even tell your family where you went. Alice didn't know, Esme was heartbroken, Carlisle even called in sick to work for a few days because he was so disappointed and upset. We all moved on, Edward, and I'm sorry if the only mortal in your life that you cared for moved on and doesn't want to take you back. I don't have eternity to live, and so I had to do what I could to live a full life like you always wanted me to. It's too bad that I don't love my husband, it's too bad that I can't go a day without breaking down because I started thinking of you, it's too bad that I keep the means to kill myself close-by at all times just in case something else happens to ruin my life. Is that the life you wanted for me?" I glared at Edward, and he gazed calmly back.
"No, Bella," he answered solemnly, unfazed by my speech. "I didn't want you to live like that. I was hoping that you would have a happy life."
"My 'happy ever after' left the first time you did, and I apparently never got it back," I snapped.
"I'm sorry," Edward said. I could tell he really was.
"Wine for the Mademoiselle," the waiter announced as he walked over. He set the glass in front of me and looked at Edward and me. "Are you ready to order?"
"I'll take that," I said, and pointed to the first item on the list. The waiter raised his eyebrows at me, but said nothing before turning to look at Edward.
"I will take the navarin d'agneau," Edward told him. The waiter nodded, took our menus, kissed my hand again, and left.
"Do all French waiters kiss their customer's hands?" I questioned.
"No," Edward answered. "But this one likes what Alice and Rose did."
"I thought you couldn't eat food," I said quietly.
"You ordered snails, Bella," Edward told me. "I thought a little stew might be a little more appealing."
"I know I ordered snails," I informed him, but the blush on my cheeks betrayed my lie. I didn't even look at the name of what I had ordered, or I would have realized my mistake.
"Fine, then I'll just take the stew home to the stray dog," Edward said. I rolled my eyes.
"Mark knows it was you growling."
"I know," Edward answered. "I can hear his thoughts, remember?"
I nodded and changed the subject. "Is this all of plan A?"
He laughed and grinned that crooked smile that always made me go weak at the knees. "If I tell you it's not a surprise, is it?" he asked.
"It never hurts to try," I sighed.
A/N: For the record, I am not French, nor do I speak it. I asked a friend for some help with this chapter, and he claims that belle mademoiselle means beautiful woman. I believe that navarin d'agneau is a French stew made from lamb meat and other ingredients.
Until th next chapter,
Addie