Prompt: hose

sncmom, thanks for holding my hand!

"You can't, or you won't?" I ask. He's right there, just inches away looking back at me with such intensity that it is us and only us in an impenetrable moment that I will keep forever alongside that shiny penny still shoved in my pocket from three years ago. And just for a second I'm going to allow myself to be stupid and selfish and be in this moment fully and completely.

Edward tilts his head a little, and I notice the dark circles under his eyes. "Both," he replies. After he regards me a second longer, the moment quickly fading, he says, "I'm going to ask you to trust me. I don't know if I can ask you to do this but I am. So please, trust me when I tell you whatever whispers you might but probably will hear around the Keurig or imminent fluctuations in my mood, know it has nothing to do with you."

"What are you saying, Edward?"

He glances down at my knees then moves his chair back so there is only the slightest distance more between us. "I'm saying that I need to unravel a few knots."

With that he stands, pushes the chair back against the wall, opens the door and turns back to me. "I'll talk to you soon, Bella."

I've learned to compartmentalize my life which is—probably more of an innate physiological unchoice than it is an actual choice—a mere three compartments: Garrett, My Job, and Edward. Even though Edward and My Job are kinda, sorta, but not really one in the same, they're most definitely separate.

Except recently.

I'm also a very, very curious person and have yet to hear a word about what is going on with Edward. Believe me, I've listened. I know it has to do with him and Leah. I also know that because she is going to New York and he is not that I can only assume they will not be together, but assuming that particular outcome makes me sick to my stomach because it does have something to do with me. If only one one hundredth of a percent, it does, and that makes me feel like shit.

No matter how divided I try to keep these things from the other, Edward is pouring into the My Job box causing distractions that could potentially affect the Whitlock event, and that cannot happen. So I'm resigned to focus on My Job and temporarily lock up the Edward compartment.

Garrett, however, being the largest one of them all remains unaffected. That is, of course, while he's awake.

My mind spins so much it's been hard to fall asleep these past few nights.

"God, Bella. You look like hell," Rose says.

"Thanks, so much, Rose. Really, thanks."

"Almost as bad as Edward. Have you seen him lately?" she asks, peering down the hall toward his office. She's holding a Styrofoam cup with both hands, steam spiraling up out of it. I need caffeine.

"No. Why?" I follow her gaze. His door's closed. Just like his box.

"He's been in a craptastic mood, pawning off bits of his accounts to Intern Eric…who you know is all up Edward's ass anyway. I heard he's been taking extra-long lunch breaks, too. Didn't you notice his absence from Reuben Wednesday? Oh, never mind. You missed it too."

"Are you mad? Because I'm detecting subtle notes of sarcasm. You know I've got the party coming up."

She waves it off. "I could use the Intern to do some of my dirty work with the Black wedding that's happening in a few months."

"Delegate."

"I've tried," she says, her eyes frustratingly wide. "But he keeps saying, 'Sorry, Miss Hale. I'm bogged down with a few things Mr. Cullen needs me to do immediately.' I mean, come on! Someone should hose that boy down. What else does Edward have going on that's so important anyway?"

"No idea."

"You lie. You two are like two peas in a pod around here."

"Pfft. No we're not."

"Yes, you are," she says matter-of-factly, like she's surprised I don't already realize this. This is weird. And slightly painful because I've yet had to outright lie or cover up anything regarding me and Edward. Because there hasn't been anything to cover up until the whole him telling me he wants me and me telling him that I love him. "Spill. What's going on?"

"I swear, Rose. I don't know a thing." And I don't.

Her shoulders droop and she leans back against the wall. "Things are changing," she says. "It's different around here. Haven't you noticed? We always went out to lunch together: you, me, Angie, and Edward. It feels like forever since we've been." Rose looks back toward Edward's office then at me. "You don't think he's looking for another job, do you?" she whispers.

"Why would you think that?" That could be it, couldn't it? He could be staying and quitting.

"What else would it be?' she asks. "I'm totally going to kick his ass if that's what this is all about and he hasn't said anything to any of us."

Edward warned there would be gossip, but I never expected I'd be pulled into it. Okay, maybe a little.

"It could be anything. Don't worry about it. Everyone can have a bad day once in a while."

"Four in a row?"

I shrug and tell her I need to get back to work. I do not think about Edward and the many possibilities of what's going on behind his door for the rest of the day.

Mrs. Whitlock now has the number to my cell. A pacification to avoid all future freak outs should she not be able to reach me with what would be a highly important question or statement such as, "Spring Rolls, Bella! We must have them!" We've also come to an understanding that only texts are acceptable after 6:00 p.m. and before 10:00 p.m. This after she'd called at 11:00 at night! wanting to add another donation to the auction.

With Edward locked in his respective box and Mrs. Whitlock in hers, I'm going to go home to my son and think about nothing other than him.

Thanks for reading. See you tomorrow (later today).