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CHAPTER 2: Iron Roses, Sweat, and Marble

BPOV

I could vaguely hear Rose and Jake arguing above me, but chose not to open my eyes just yet. It was abnormally peaceful, lying here on this cold floor, smelling the Pine Sol used to mop the floors with a tingling undertone of dust. From lying here on the floor, I could tell that I would need to pay more attention when mopping--dirt was everywhere under the counter.

"What did you say to her, Blondie?" Jake's voice was saturated with rage, however a gentle, warm palm touched my cheek.

His brief touch was slapped away and I got a whiff of J'adore perfume. My nose wrinkled. "She's fine, Jacob Black," Rosalie said in a nasally, prissy voice. "Maybe you should let her take a day off. Go home and let her rest? She's got bags under her eyes the size of freezer Ziplocs."

I thought I had covered those up. They aren't that big, were they?

Jake snorted. "She won't let me even think to tell her to take off. She shows up here every day, sometimes before I do. She shows up rain or shine, whether she's happy or pissed off, when she's stressed out and tired, in sickness or in health..."

His voice drowned out as he continued to prattle about the random yin-and-yang obstacles that I overcame to come to work. In sickness or in health... Edward. Alice's wedding. Edward. Next weekend. Edward...

Edward...

Air whooshed through my nose as I gasped. The full impact that was about to happen hit me as if I had run head-on into a brick wall. Edward would be coming back to Forks. He would be here. For the first time in ten years, I would have to see him. But in that moment, I wasn't sure of it. Going back to Forks and seeing all the people I hadn't seen in six years would be bad, but seeing Edward's family, seeing Edward himself, would be pure, unbearable torture.

Would he even care?

Of course he doesn't, you fool. He left without so much as a goodbye, remember?

Oh yes, I remembered.

"... quit being so dramatic," Rose was saying. "You are such a dumbass sometimes, Jacob."

"Watch it," he growled. "You are only back here because Bella is lying unconscious on the floor. If she weren't here I would have kicked your blonde butt all the way back to the whore house where you belong two minutes ago."

She snarled at him, and I took that opportunity to open my eyes, just in case I needed to intervene. Rosalie sighed and Jake grinned. "You dropped like a roach that inhaled too much Raid. Are you o...hey! OW! Dammit Rosalie, that's it. Get out of here!"

She grinned triumphantly and I couldn't help but giggle at the resounding thud as she swatted the back of his shaved head with her purse again. She stood fluidly, brushed off her seamless khaki's and clacked around the bar on her four inch stiletto's. "Bella, you have two seconds to take off that ugly-ass apron and grab your bag. We're going home."

Home. There was that word again. However this time, it didn't give me the rush of anxiety it had a few minutes ago. I was going to get to see my family. Given, the long drive from Seattle back to Forks wouldn't be so pleasant, but I was anxious to see Charlie. Sue Clearwater, who had taken it upon herself to move into my old bedroom to look after my dad, had called frequently with updates about his health, and he seemed fine. But I still wanted to see him.

With Charlie's face clear in my mind and blocking Edward's, I stood from the dirty floor and gave Jake an apologetic look. "Alice's wedding is in a week," I said. "Alice wants me to be there for last minute planning." I hope. We still hadn't spoken since the dress incident, and I was starting to get worried. Whenever we fought, Alice always called to apologize, or I the other way around. And she still hadn't called, even after 48 hours. "I'm going to be gone all week."

"That's right, you told me about that," he said. "Sure. I'll see you when you get back."

I nodded, slipped the apron off and stuffed it under the counter. I reached my hand toward the tip jar, ready to count it out and split it in half like we did every night. Jacob's soft voice stopped me. "Go ahead and take all of it. You won't be here for a week to collect anything, so you may as well take what you can now." He grinned.

I smiled and reached over, awkwardly giving him a one-armed hug. "Thanks, Jake," I whispered into his ear, and then stuffed the wad of bills into my purse. "I'll see you next week."

He nodded and picked up the rag, sweeping it along the counter-top. "You're lucky you've got me as a boss."

Rosalie rolled her eyes and grabbed my elbow, pulling me out the door. "I know!" I yelled back at him, ignoring the tugs as Rosalie pulled me out to the parking lot.

"You need to get a new job," Rosalie said, unlocking her BMW with the electronic key. I sighed.

Rose had never approved of my being a bartender at the university pub. She thought that I was too smart to be mixing alcohol, but I disagreed with her strongly. I got good pay, and customers seemed to like me, giving me more money in tips than I had ever received in my life. Plus, Jacob had always been a good friend of mine, ever since he had helped me find my dorm room my first day on campus. He had popped up in a few of my classes and made a good study partner, and eventually gave me this job.

I slid in soundlessly, relaxing against the seat and leaning my head back. I closed my eyes, readying myself for the long drive back. The car started with a gentle hum, and soft jazz filled the interior as she smoothly pulled out of the parking lot. I shifted in my seat, aimed the vent toward the window to get rid of the cool draft, and soundlessly drifted off into a silent sleep.

I hadn't realized this however until I felt her nudging my shoulder. I woke with a start, glancing out the window and rubbing my eyes. The clock on the dashboard said 1:30. I yawned. "Already?"

Rosalie sighed. "You've only been asleep the whole ride back." She opened her door and darted from the car excitedly.

I blushed sheepishly and unbuckled my seat belt.

I had barely opened the door when I saw Rose catapult herself up the steps and into the arms of Emmett. I gasped. I thought she would be taking me back to her apartment. I thought that's where we were going to be staying. I didn't think she would be bringing me back here. I wasn't prepared for this--I didn't know what to say, how to act.

I didn't know if I would be able to handle being in Edward's old home again.

I turned to look away as they met in a soft embrace, one that made my eyes tingle and my heart thrum quietly. I heard her giggle, and then the door opened. I waited a few seconds until they were gone, staring up at the surprisingly clear, moonlit night sky, then walked around the edge of the car and into the house.

The Cullens house was the same as I had remembered it, which made it that much harder to be there in the first place. Given, Esme had moved the furniture around a little, had repainted the baseboards on the windows and had added more pictures to the mantle above the roaring fire place, but the same comforting feeling of acceptance was there, the same feeling of peace and calm.

I could be myself in this house.

Rosalie and Emmett were nowhere to be seen, but as I rounded the corner into the living room, I saw Carlisle, resting peacefully in an overstuffed chair in front of the fireplace, a book nestled in his lap, his perfect eyes trained on every word as they floated past him. Esme, who hadn't changed a bit, from the color of her hair to the pristine clothing that she wore, was sitting on the leather sofa across from him, thumbing through a copy of Southern Living.

They hadn't noticed that I had come in, and so, mustering all my courage, I opened my mouth and said softly, "Planning to redecorate again, Esme?"

She started, looking up at me with surprise and bewilderment. Carlisle grinned up at me, and they both stood up, Esme tossed her magazine haphazardly on the couch--the most carelessly than I had ever seen her--and Carlisle closed his book without even marking his page. They hurried over to me and Esme enveloped me in a hug that made me want to cry out in happiness. This was what I had been missing. The true feeling of contentedness had been gone for ten years, since the day that Edward left and I stopped seeing them, and my heart filled and overflowed with happiness at having this back again. Having a part of it back again.

"We've missed you, Bella," Carlisle said softly, rubbing my back. "It hasn't been the same without you here."

Esme was crying, and as she pulled away from me, she laid a hand against my cheek. "My goodness, dear," she sniffled. "You've grown so much."

I blushed, tugging self-consciously at my shirt. "I've cut my hair," I said lamely.

Carlisle laughed. "Well, I would have hoped you would." Then, softer, "Ten years is a long time, Bella."

I nodded. My heart felt like it was cracking now--such a contradiction to what I had been feeling a few moments ago. They were going to bring Edward into it, and I didn't feel up to talking about it now. It was hard enough, just being in his old house, being in the same rooms that we had spent our last days in. I didn't want to talk much about the cause of losing this as well.

Esme smiled. "Well, let me show you to your room." She looked around expectantly for my things. "Where are your bags?"

I shrugged apologetically. "I don't have any."

Carlisle's brow's furrowed. "No bags?"

I shook my head. "I presumed we would be going back to Rosalie's apartment and I would just wear her clothes there. She kind of kidnapped me from work and all but dragged me back here, not giving me a chance to grab anything."

Esme smiled. "That's sounds like her. She and Emmett haven't seen each other in about two weeks." And to punctuate her remark, there was a thud from upstairs, followed by a soft moan.

I sucked in a breath. This was going to be uncomfortable.

I shifted my stance and Esme patted my arm. "No matter. I'm sure we will get you something."

She led me up the flight of stairs and I sucked in a breath as we walked down the hallway that I had once been so accustomed to. Emmett's room was on the left, two doors from the staircase, and I could tell that this hadn't changed as the thuds and bangs grew louder as we passed. Carlisle and Esme's room was on the right, followed by the bathroom. I stopped at the end of the hallway. Up the spiral staircase at the end was Edward's room.

"Bella?"

I turned to see Esme stopped in front of a door. The old library.

She opened the door with a soft click and flipped a light switch. Without turning to me, she moved over to the black, wrought-iron bed. I stood, frozen in the doorway. As she pulled back the throw pillows, tossing them on the familiar black leather couch in the corner of the room, I felt my heart stop. It was as if she had taken all of the furniture from Edward's old room and moved it down here. She had changed the sheets, from a gold satin to a light blue cotton, and the couch was accented with blue and white pillows. She had tried hard to disguise it, but it was Edward's all the same.

She turned to me, having pulled the comforter down. She smiled sadly. "I had ordered new furniture," she said softly. "It hasn't arrived yet. Do you think this will be okay?"

I nodded numbly.

"There's fresh t-shirts in the armoire," she said, gesturing toward the black piece of furniture on the opposite wall. "It's all new, just random things from charity events, blood drives, etcetera."

I nodded again.

She came over and hugged me. "It's late. You should head to bed."

I looked at her pleadingly.

She patted my cheek. "I hope this is okay, for the time being. It's nice to have you with us, sweet Bella."

She closed the door behind her, and I slumped against the wall. Sweet Bella. His bed. His couch.

He was going to be the death of me.

Without thinking about it, I stripped out of my clothes and pulled on a t-shirt that said, "Give Blood. Vote Republican." I turned off the lights to keep my attention away from the bed--the bed that I had been in so many times before--and climbed into the sheets. I pulled the blankets high up to my chin, and closed my eyes, breathing out of my mouth. Esme hasn't changed her laundry soap either.

I slipped into a light and disturbed sleep. I tossed and turned, the sheets and blankets wrapping around me, pulling at my legs and tying me to the bed. But the worst part were the dreams that I slipped in and out of, all extremely vivid, sensual and bright. Colors swirled and meshed, and I could rarely pick anything out of them.

And then, a memory I could never forget, swept across my mind.

"Are you scared?"

I nodded against his sweaty, bare shoulder. He pressed his open lips to my forehead, breathing in and out. He trembled in my arms, and I tightened my hold around him, pressing our bare chests closer together.

He sighed, and I felt him harden slightly against me. The only thing that stood between us was the thin cotton of my underwear, which both of us were hesitant to pull off. He arched his back, pulling him away from me, and he braced himself on his taut forearms. I felt this muscles in his abdomen tense as he held himself up, and I shivered.

He brushed my sweaty hair away from my face and placed a light kiss on my mouth. His tongue poked out, tentatively brushing along my lower lip. My hands, shaking with nerves and excitement, reached up slowly to tangle in his hair, pulling his face closer to mine. He pressed his lips to mine harder, and this time I responded, kissing him back and meeting the gentle undulations of his hips.

He reached down, gently hooking his fingers around the edge of my underwear and pulling them down. He didn't do anything embarrassing, like smell them or stick them in a safe spot, he just balled them into his fist, and keeping his eyes trained on me the whole time, dropped them to the floor.

"I want to make this good for you, Bella."

I nodded.

"Baby, it's going to hurt. And I wish it wouldn't. I wish I could take it all away." I nodded, my hands tightening on his back. "Are you ready?"

And I knew that with the slight shake of my head he would stop. But I also that he loved me, and would never do anything to purposefully hurt me. We both wanted this, and he had done so much for me, I wanted to be able to give something back to him. I wanted him to know how much I wanted him, how much I loved him. I wanted to please him.

With the slight nod of my head, he eased into me with a soft, "I love you." At first, I was overwhelmed with such an immense pleasure that my hands fisted in the sheets, my stomach tensed and my back arched, pushing my hips harder into his, driving him deeper inside me.

That was when the pain came.

Glassy shards of pure agony shot through my body as delicate membrane tore, causing me to gasp. Despite the wetness, I could still feel the rubber against my inner walls, causing me to wince. My fingernails dug into his back and he hissed, but didn't move. He held still within me, cradling my face between his hands. I thrashed against him, trying to push him out, but he held still until my fighting subsided. Tears leaked from my eyes, and I could see my own pain reflected in his. He pressed his lips to my face, kissing away every tear that was shed, until I lay still beneath him.

"I'm sorry, Bella... so sorry... so sorry..."

He began to move, slowly pushing in and pulling out. I turned my head to the side, closing my eyes and trying desperately to lose myself in the moment. The good feelings that were coursing through my body didn't register in my brain. What did, however, was the repeated apologies that Edward muttered as he thrust in and out of me, trying to take my pain away.

I looked at him, my eyes locking with his. "Stop it."

He paused inside of me, worry tainting his brow.

I giggled. "Not that. Stop apologizing."

He grinned lopsidedly, and pushed deeper, hitting a spot that caused me to let out a little sound that made his eyes flutter closed. He reached for my hands behind him, bringing them to rest parallel to either side of my head, entwining our fingers. He began panting, and something in my abdomen tigthened, like a tightly coiled spring.

My toes curled.

"Edward... Edward... something's happening..."

"Let it come, Bella. Don't hold it. Cum with me..."

And with a cry, I let go, white light flashing in front of me, my arms shaking. I heard Edward shout above me, and with three quick, hard thursts, he collapsed on top of me. My arms wrapped around him, and as I slowly came down from my high, I could hear him whispering, almost purring,

"Sweet Bella. Sweet, sweet Bella..."

My eyes popped open and I snapped up from the bed. The sheets and t-shirt I was wearing were soaked through with sweat. I brushed the hair that had fallen out of my ponytail away from my face and swung my legs to hang from the side of the bed. I winced as something sliced into my leg. I glanced down. Blood was dripping from the petal of a metal rose, molded out of the black iron, innocent and perfect.

Something was dripping from my chin, and as my face began to dry from the air of the fan, I felt the salty trail of tears flowing from my eyes.

Sighing, I stood from the bed. I pushed open the door to the adjoining bathroom open, and glanced at myself in the mirror. Rosalie wasn't lying about the bags under my eyes--they were dark, and large. I pulled the hair tie out of my hair, ran my fingers through it, then pulled it up in a tighter bun. My eyes were diverted to the bathtub.

I pulled the shower curtain back and stepped onto the marble tile. Lowering myself gently, I settled onto the floor, hissing as the coldness met my heated legs. I curled myself up into the fetal position, wrapping my arms around my tucked knees and lay my head gently down.

I fell back into a deep, still sleep.