Oh, guys. I'm just dyin' here. I cannot wait to get these next few, final chapters out to you, because they're coming together and I'm all atwitter with butterflies and goosebumps and love.
My betas make this readable, and also provide much-needed support. LouderThanSirens and MommaBear, there aren't words, and if there were, they would likely need to be beta'd, so thank you.
I also have to thank BelleDean and stephk0525, without whom I would probably have quit a long time ago. You make this fun.
Thank you, jajo, for validating, and to RoseArcadia for her sweet pimpin' skillz.
Oh, and thanks to everyone on twitter, because you make me happy, keep me motivated, and crack me up all day long. Mwah.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
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Edward
I try not to think about how disturbed I am by the shit Emmett said to Rose. I hear the tail end of their conversation and find him pacing his room, his hands fisting his hair. When he whips the lamp violently across the room, I am, for the first time ever, afraid of my brother. I know he wouldn't hurt anyone, but his lack of control reminds me of our father losing it. When we were kids I watched that shit from behind Emmett, because he was always there to protect me while the asshole raged.
When he sees me frozen in his doorway, he stops, staring at me like he's looking at a stranger. I feel like I'm looking back at one, too. I feel like I'm six years old.
My voice shakes when I can finally make myself speak. "What the fuck, Em?"
He just shakes his head, shoving past me to the kitchen, slamming down a shot glass and a bottle of Patron, even though it's only early afternoon. We don't have practice tomorrow, so I just sit at the bar and watch him pour with a shaky hand, and don't say a word.
Between shots, he tells me what happened. I try not to react strongly, even though this whole thing is really fucked. He's still worked up, his muscles tense. I wonder how hard he would have to squeeze to break the shot glass in his fist.
He relaxes a little when the booze kicks in, but he doesn't stop doing shots until the Patron is gone, then he switches to beer. The more he drinks, the more he talks, and the more emotional he gets. I cut him off when he puts on Radiohead and starts weeping like a chick. I also hide his phone, which pisses him off, but by the time he figures out that I took it, he's so drunk that he can hardly stand up. When he passes out face down on his bed, I'm almost relieved.
By the time Bella texts me, Emmett's been out for hours. I don't know what the fuck to say to her, though. So I just assure her that everything's going to be okay in the morning and hope that I'm right.
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There's a kind of hangover that is worse than any other in the world. Emmett is definitely going to have that kind.
It happens when you're drinking to forget about something. Waking up to the physical agony is bad enough, but the true pain comes with the slow realization that you are still yourself and that you still have to deal with everything you were trying to ignore. On top of all that, you probably did something while you were wasted that you won't live down for a long time.
Luckily for Emmett, I'll only bring up the Radiohead and the crying if I really need to blackmail the sad bastard at some point.
I feel a little guilty starting his day off with the phone call from Bella, but the girl has a point, so I walk into his room and toss the phone at him. He squints at me, his eyes bloodshot, and his breath rank enough to make me take a step back. I can see the last 24 hours all come back to him the second that she starts talking.
When they hang up, I pick my phone up off his bed and clean up the broken glass in his room while he lies with his head buried under his pillow. He won't even acknowledge me when I try talking to him. When I figure out that he's crying, I throw out what's left of the lamp and decide to leave him alone for a few hours.
I leave a bottle of water and a sandwich on his nightstand for lunch. He drinks the water but doesn't touch the sandwich.
Mom shows up while I'm making dinner. She puts her bags down in the living room and gives me a hug before walking straight to Emmett's room. I'm making all his favorite foods, trying to distract myself from thinking about the possible outcomes of this fucked-up situation.
The shower starts a few minutes later, and I hear his door shut quietly. Mom sits at the bar in the kitchen, rubbing at her eyes and smiling tiredly at me.
"I got him out of bed. He's going to shower and come out. He looks awful," she sighs, her voice stressed.
Neither of us says much. I'm afraid if I start talking, I'm going to upset her more than she already is. For the same reason, I decide not to tell her about the lamp.
When Emmett walks in and sits next to her, I can tell he's been crying again. I'm almost desperate to get our dynamic back to normal; this isn't how shit goes down in my family. Emmett's not the one who does stupid shit. Emmett doesn't throw things. Emmett doesn't do things that he needs to feel guilty about. I wonder if the two of them feel as lost as I do right now.
I'm relieved when they go sit in the living room, because I can't watch my big brother break down again. I leave the finished dinner on the stove and lay down in my room. I'm not hungry, and I doubt they are, either.
This could fuck everything up, and I'm not talking about trust fund shit. If Rose is pregnant, I doubt Bella will still move here. It's a selfish thought, but I can't help it. It's not something I want to talk about yet, and I know I should call Bella but I just…don't.
We start our regular practice schedule tomorrow, so I get ready for bed early and turn out the lights without saying goodnight to my mom and Em, who are still talking in the living room.
That night I have the same fucked up dreams that I've had since I was a kid, but unlike every other time, when I wake up in the morning I wonder if Emmett has them too.
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"There's no way we can come right now," I repeat again, "we have practice and training every day and we can't miss it."
It's been about a week, and Bella's flipping out. It's late here and I'm already in bed, but I let her rant.
"Okay, but Rose won't talk to him. She won't take his calls; she doesn't even want us to say his name."
I try to keep the frustration out of my voice. "I don't know what you want me to do."
She sighs. "We could come there, but I have no idea how I could get her on the plane."
"Has she listened to any of the messages he left?"
"She just deletes them without reading them. I can't say I blame her."
I can tell this is a conversation that I'm doomed to repeat endlessly until Rose and Emmett figure their shit out.
It could be a fucking minute.
Emmett's a mess. I made him promise to quit the heavy drinking. He might be miserable, but at least he's sober. He's acting really strange. He apologizes for the lamp, and he's so serious and sad that I immediately forgive him and hope he doesn't want to talk about it. He doesn't, and we spend that night watching TV in relieved silence.
I think a lot about what he can do to make it right, but don't come up with anything. I'm not lying, we really can't just hop a plane right now, but normally Emmett would find a way to make it work…no matter what.
I guess he feels like he doesn't deserve the chance, or is afraid he'll be a bad father, or something. I don't know, but either way he needs to do something.
"Do you think Carlisle would talk to Emmett?"
"He did, but when he tried to talk to Rose about it she went off on him. It would've been funny if she wasn't totally terrifying right now."
"What about my mom?"
"She called a few times, but Rose won't answer. She feels bad, but she says she's not ready."
"It's alright. My mom's cool, so tell her to take her time." I need to change the subject. I can't spend this much time talking about other people's feelings and shit. "So…what are you wearing?"
"Nice, Cullen. Very original. I can't just switch into phone sex mode right now. Sorry."
I love it when she calls me Cullen.
"That's really too bad, because I'm not having a problem with that transition at all."
"Perv."
"Prude."
She laughs and then sighs. "God, I fucking miss you."
"I miss you too. Too much."
"I seriously don't know if I can go a month without seeing you, so I might have to fly out even if I can't get Rose to come with me." She's quiet for a breath. "I miss your taste," she murmurs.
Shit.
"Just tell me when and I'll book it," I respond quickly, thinking about her lips.
"I can buy my own plane tickets, but thanks. Shouldn't you be watching your spending, anyway?"
"I'm flush," I brag, kidding.
"Yeah, unless I get knocked up!" She laughs, but it fades off quickly when she realizes what she said. "Oh. Sorry."
I'm fucking pissed, but not at her. It's just total bullshit. It's not that I want to have kids right now, but not having the option isn't right. I stew for a second before I answer, "It's okay."
"I'm sorry, that was a terrible joke," she says sincerely. "Is it just me or do we really suck at this whole 'finding a plan' thing?"
She's right, we do. To be fair though, neither of us has dealt with this kind of situation before, and doing it long distance makes it that much harder.
This is my first long distance relationship. Shit, this is my first relationship, period, so I'm just figuring it out, or at least I hope I am.
"We do suck at it, but we'll figure it out. Right now what I really want to talk about is getting you here and making you scream my name for three days straight," I say, my face muffled by my pillow.
"Whatever you say, Ron Jeremy," she says dryly, before cracking up. A few days ago she told me she thinks it's hilarious that those were my first two words to her. Honestly, I don't really remember. I countered anyway, reminding her that I got the girl, so therefore I'm a smooth motherfucker. We ended up agreeing to disagree.
"Oh come on, you know you want it, Bella."
"You really are a cocky fuck, you know that?" she scoffs, a smile in her voice.
"You love that shit."
"Maybe," she laughs.
"I've gotta go. I have to be up super early."
"Oh, bummer. I was going to get naked and log into Skype."
"You're such a fucking tease," I say, groaning.
"You love that shit," she repeats my words back to me, her voice low.
"Fuck. I do. And I love you."
"I love you too."
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It's been a week and a half, and Emmett's depression is starting to get to me. I can't stand to see him like this. It's just weird and wrong.
When he's finally out of the loft for a few hours, I sit on the edge of my bed and dial an unfamiliar number for the first time.
"Hello." It's not a question. She obviously knows it's me.
"Hi, Rose." She doesn't respond, but she doesn't hang up either, so I just start talking.
It's hard at first, trying to say shit out loud that I don't even like to think about.
I tell her about the lamp and that whole day, relaying the logistics easily, but stuttering when it comes to saying how it made me feel.
She doesn't say a word. This is more of a monologue than a conversation.
I tell her about the dreams. I've never told anyone that; not even Emmett. I explain why I think Emmett reacted the way he did, and why he hasn't shown up on her doorstep. I stop and wait for her to say something when I'm finally done spilling my fucking guts.
She clears her throat. "You know, this is the second time that you've tried to convince me to give someone a second chance. Of course the first time, you were vouching for yourself." She chuckles quietly. I do, too.
I wait a beat, and make my final argument. "Just talk to him, Rose. He's fucking wrecked. Give him the chance to grovel." The next part makes me feel stupid because it's going to sound sappy, but I suck it up and keep going. "I'm excited to be an uncle. We don't have a lot of family..." I could elaborate on how lonely that made me feel as a kid and how hard Emmett and I tried to hide it from my mom, but I know I wouldn't be able to get the words out. "He loves you, and he's going to be a great dad. You know that."
She sniffs, and I hear the rustle of a tissue.
Shit. I made her cry.
"Okay," she finally says. "Thanks." She hangs up after a few seconds, and I turn my head to look at the picture of Bella on my nightstand.
I hope I did the right thing.
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I don't know what you said to her, but she's willing to fly out this weekend. –B
I glance at Emmett, who is slumped over on the couch, playing Madden again. He hasn't moved much for the last few days aside from practice and workouts.
I'm confused. If Rose had called, I'm pretty sure that Emmett would have not only said something, but wouldn't still be this fucking morose.
I take it she didn't call Em? Buying tickets. –E
She just wants to show up. Don't tell him. –B
This is kind of fucked up, but I'm not going to argue with Rose if it's what she wants to do, so I keep my mouth shut.
I'm picking them up from the airport on Friday night. I tell Emmett I'm going out to dinner with mom, realizing my slip right after the lie comes out of my mouth; she's back in L.A. with Carlisle. He doesn't notice though, he just nods and continues pressing the buttons on the controller listlessly. I wish he knew what was coming, because he kind of looks like shit and probably needs a shower after our rough practice today, but if I start bugging him about his personal hygiene he'll definitely know something's up.
I spend the drive thinking about all the things I'm going to do to Bella in my room. When I get out of the car to help them put their bags in the trunk, I have to adjust myself so I don't greet them with my obvious, raging hard-on. Bella jumps on me, though, wrapping her legs around me and kissing my neck. She pulls back, looking down towards my belt and grinning.
She hops down a second later, and I see Rose standing next to her bag, watching the two of us sadly. She looks worse than Emmett. I feel bad thinking it, but she's pale and has dark circles under her eyes. I'm a little concerned, because Rose just doesn't look like shit. Ever.
Bella gives me a meaningful look that lets me know that she's worried too.
Rose looks at me for a split second before looking down at her feet. She's stiff at first when I put my arms around her, but she relaxes after a few seconds. I think this is the first time we've ever hugged. She shudders, and I realize that she's crying into my t-shirt. Bella looks on helplessly. I'm shaken by the show of emotion, which seems to be the norm lately. First Emmett and now Rose. The fact that they're both this unhappy is a testament to the fact that they belong together. It can't go on like this.
I put the bags in and get Rose situated in the front seat; Bella's afraid Rose will get carsick if she sits in the back. I want more than anything to hold Bella's hand, but Rose is looking a little green, so I try to be patient knowing I'll get to fall asleep with my girl pressed against me tonight.
Bella tells me about the flight and makes small talk, while Rose sits silently, staring straight ahead. I hope I didn't make a mistake by keeping this from Emmett.
I take them up to our floor, and we enter the loft quietly. Em is passed out on the couch, annoying video game music echoing across the hardwood floors. I set their bags down and turn off the TV. He stirs, sitting up slowly and glaring at me, still half asleep. He's always cranky when he gets woken up.
"Hey," he grumbles, waking up a little more when he registers that I'm standing in front of him with my hands in my pockets, looking uncomfortable. He raises his eyebrows at me in a silent question.
I nod towards Rose and Bella, who are still standing by the front door, and he turns around, jumping up when he sees Rose.
She's standing with one palm flat on her abdomen, but tenses and drops her hand to her side when he stands up. It's still, silent and tense while we wait for someone to make a move. Bella and I look between the two of them and meet eyes worriedly for a second.
The second that Rose's mouth turns down and she shuts her eyes, Emmett is over the couch and in front of her. He stops, his eyes flicking desperately between hers as she looks up at him. A tear rolls down her cheek and she gives him the slightest of nods. He drops to his knees, pressing his face against her stomach while she strokes his hair and he brokenly whispers "I'm so sorry" over and over again.
Bella comes to me and I lead her out of the room, both of us trying to sneak out without making any noise. I feel like we interrupted the most intimate of moments.
I try to restrain myself from tearing off every shred of her clothing the second my bedroom door shuts, but it doesn't matter, because she strips in seconds, pushing me back onto my desk chair and fumbling with my belt. She sinks onto me, our eyes locked, and it's quick and quietly frantic. I can't hold out, and spill into her before I want to. We don't break eye contact until she comes a few seconds later, her eyes fluttering closed while she bites back a moan.
I pick her up and lay us down on the bed, not willing to let even an inch of space between our bodies. All she's wearing is the Tiffany necklace that I gave her last Christmas, which I've never seen on her. I run my fingers across the delicate chain, kissing at where it lingers on her skin.
"I needed that so bad," she whispers against my lips.
"I love you. I'm so glad you're here," I respond, running my hands over the soft skin of her back.
We stay in my room for the rest of the night, speculating about what's going on in the rest of the loft, but decide we don't really want to find out. She falls asleep first, and I listen to her soft breathing and feel her fingers and toes twitch against my skin while she dreams.
I need her here more than anything. I can't live without it for much longer, because I don't need to bury my face in the green scarf to breathe in her scent with her here, and I don't have to look at a picture to see her face.
I'm so happy it hurts and now that I have it, I want to feel like this all the time.
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Thank you for reading. I've been a total butthead about responding to reviews of late, but I'm going to get to all of them this chapter. I just need to get the hell off twitter.
Therefore I probably shouldn't tell you this, but you can follow me (and I'll follow you back because you guys are freaking wonderful) here:
/sweetlolapop
I'll be seein' you.
xo