I'm sorry I wasn't able to reply to reviews, I will get to them this time around, I swear. Speaking of: My god. The depth and passion in your reviews made me want to write a 100 more chapters... but I won't. Because not only must all good things come to an end, but it is so much better when good end(ing)s come to things.
Quothme edited four full versions on the this epilogue before I went with this one. That alone deserves sainthood. Also thanks to twistedcoincidence for the multiple pre-reads.
Epilogue
When you're in high school, high school is all that matters. A few years later, high school is nothing but a time of hyperbole, hyperactivity and hyper libidos. Old grudges and memories fade, replaced with sweeping, caricatured characterizations for those who stood out most vividly—Rosalie, the beautiful bitch; Emmett, the winning, winsome quarterback; Renata, the foxy foreign student; Edward, the loner loser; Edward, the mysterious man whore. These monikers lose their meaning and simply become the way one is remembered. Judgment, curiosity, even care is no longer attached to these people you knew at a time when you were a less perfected, perhaps somewhat unrecognizable version of yourself. They no longer know who you are, they only know who you were, and the same vice versa.
You've moved on, and, therefore, you've let go.
It was in this state of mind, on no particularly significant morning, that Edward Cullen was in his neighborhood Starbucks, grabbing his morning coffee before heading into work, when he ran into a familiar brunette. It had been nearly ten years since Edward and Bella had graduated Forks High and more than ten years since they'd attended that dance, since she'd accused him of being a demon, since those fateful words about Jasper had passed between them. Bella, in a fit of uncharacteristic rage, had switched to a different biology class and had ignored him determinedly, refusing to speak to him even once they had graduated. Edward, true to his confession to Bella, had stopped his sedulous seduction and remained single for the rest of his high school days. His legend had never died, of course—in fact, he was still infamous in Forks, despite having left after graduation to attend college far away and never turning back.
Adult Edward was an incongruous mix of both the previous, pitifully lonely boy and the smooth, seductive, oversexed adolescent he had been. His looks hadn't changed too much—he was as striking as ever, catching the eye of every woman in his vicinity. He didn't use his charm as often, though, refraining from capturing their affection and attention. Unlike the erotic literature novel he had been before, he was now a pretty postcard—a few kind but sincere words and he was off, remembered more for the picture than anything else.
But it seemed that no matter where he went, how far away he stayed from the town of Forks, he could never completely escape his past. So when he ran into the girl who had nudged nascent, new feelings into his heart all those years ago, it was almost with a sense of foreshadowed finality.
As her initial shock at running into him wore off, she admired the man who had taken the place of the boy she once knew. He was beautiful as always, but rather than bold, he appeared beatific. A happiness radiated out of him, one that, despite all the confidence and company, had never been present in his younger self. They awkwardly exchanged "hellos" before beginning a conversation that was stilted yet candid, the type one has when trying to express genuine emotion to someone who is virtually a stranger.
"I just—I'll never forget you. You were... you confused me to no end." The confession poured out of her—for around him she couldn't help but alternate between the girl he had known and the woman she was now, back and forth, back and forth. In her nervousness, she reverted to a mannerism she had when she was younger—she twirled a lock of her chocolate-colored hair around her finger.
"I'm genuinely sorry," Edward said. His tone was honest and earnest, his words spoken with a full heart. "I really... I don't know what I was thinking back then. I was so... so desperate to be someone, to be something that… you, or really anybody, could want that I just... let it get out of control. I'm really sorry if I hurt you in any way—you'll never know how much. You were always special to me."
"You were special to me, too."
"Especially hurtful, perhaps." He sighed, a sad smile twisting his lips. "I just... I can say nothing that will make up for my behavior back then. Only that I'm not and never again will be that guy, the one who needs to prove himself by using girls."
"It's okay, I guess. I mean, it was such a long time ago, and if you've changed..." she hedged, purposefully trailing off, hoping that he would jump in.
He didn't disappoint, his smile bright and boyish. "I have, I swear! I'm a one-woman man now... well, I would be. I'm single—but not mingling, I promise." His tone was proud and accomplished and more charming than any of his words had ever been.
"Really?"
"Really. Let's just say something happened that gave me a reality check as to my motivations for my… er, actions." They exchanged a loaded glance, laden with unspoken questions.
"Really?" Her tone was inquiring, but it was clear from Edward's expression that he wasn't going to expound.
"Well, something was bound to at the rate I was going, wasn't it?" They both laughed.
"I'm not even going to pretend not to agree with that." He gave a mock grimace, but she could hear from the laughing lilt in his voice that he didn't mind in the least. His demeanor turned sober and, when he met her eyes, he did so with an intense, ingenuous genuineness. "I wish I hadn't been such an ass back then. You were the first girl I ever... I mean, there was a time when I thought I would have done anything for you. I did, in fact! After you and I stopped hanging out, I even talked to your dad!"
"You what?"
"Yeah. He didn't take it well. And then I asked him not to mention it to anyone. I've had a niggling fear of men of authority ever since," he admitted, barking out an embarrassed laugh.
"Wow, you really... you really did care." This was something she never knew about him, something she had never imagined. She thought that it was friendly affection, perhaps even puppy love, but she'd never realized until now how much his young heart must have cherished hers.
"I did. And I'm so, so sorry for everything that I may have..." He began to apologize again, but was cut off when she placed her slim hand on his arm.
"Edward, it's okay. We've all made mistakes, big and small." She tossed her chestnut brown hair over her shoulder and looked at him with those wide, innocent eyes he remembered so well. "It was so long ago. And you're okay, I'm definitely okay, too. I'm engaged." She let go of his arm and held her hand out to his face. The illuminating sparkle matched the incandescent one in her eye, both clearly declaring that this was a very happy bride-to-be.
"Nice rock! That's great," he said, laughing. "Congratulations. May I ask who the lucky guy is?"
"He's actually from Clallam County—do you remember Jacob Black?"
"Yes, but not personally. He went to school on the res with some old friends."
She was about to speak when she was interrupted by her phone ringing. Quickly looked at the display, she turned back to him apologetically and said, "Oh Edward, I'm sorry, I have to take this."
"No problem. I've got to go to work anyway. It was nice to see you again," he said, sweet smile spread across his face. She returned it.
"It was nice to see you again, too." She answered the call, and he gathered up his coffee cup. As he turned to wave one last goodbye, he couldn't resist blowing a kiss and winking. She replied, brown eyes bright and smiling, by sticking her tongue out at him. Just like when they were young.
A bittersweet air mingled with the viscous, vibrant aroma of coffee beans wafting out of the store. It's not often one is confronted so singularly with their past, less often that they leave the interaction smiling. And even if the first cut is sometimes the deepest, time heals all wounds. Edward knew this—he had always been a fan of idioms.
-~#~-
That evening after work, Edward headed to a bar near his office at his co-worker Garrett's urging to meet him there. The encounter from this morning had left him disconcerted. It had been ten years since high school, ten years that he'd not been that guy. But this morning's happenstance meeting had left him with a nagging nostalgia. Not to lapse into his Casanova behavior—no, his thoughts were bent on a brainy, beautiful brunette. Despite all they'd been through, all the mistakes they had inflicted and blamed on each other, he'd never quite gotten over the giving away of his nine-year-old heart and he'd never gotten over her. He'd tried dating with minimal success, often realizing that he was, despite his habits in high school, truly a one-woman man. And he'd chosen his woman as a boy. His Starbucks visit had only served to remind him everyone else had moved on, whereas only he seemingly had.
He sat and sipped his scotch on the rocks and texted his friend to ask his whereabouts. As he waited for an answer, he glanced around the bar to see if he saw anybody else he knew.
And he did.
He quickly turned back to his drink, obscuring his face with his hand as he comprehended what it meant. He hadn't seen her since they had graduated, and he hadn't talked to her in even longer. But that didn't mean he hadn't thought about her—in fact, quite the contrary.
And now she was here, sipping a martini, like the most beautiful girl in the world, which she'd always been to him, in the same bar that he frequented. Edward had always been one to ascribe meaning to everything—sometimes too much. But he couldn't believe that it was mere coincidence. It had to be fate that he would see another Forks resident—this particular Forks resident—after all these years, randomly, in a bar.
This morning, Carmen Weber in his frequented Starbucks. And now, Bella Swan, the Bella Swan, his Bella Swan, was sitting in his favorite bar.
It was fate.
And so he downed the rest of his nearly full drink, steeling himself with scotch. Squaring his shoulders and screwing up his courage, he stood and strolled, his gait betraying his nerves, over to Bella.
When she looked up from her martini glass, she was beyond shocked. This being the first time she had come to this bar, so far away from her normal haunts, she hadn't expect to see a familiar face.
Let alone perhaps the most handsome familiar face she had ever known.
As Edward and Bella's eyes met for the first time in ten years, as he prepared to exchange the first words between them in over that amount of time, something stopped him.
It wasn't nerves, though he felt a sort of paralyzing sense of weight in the moment. It wasn't disbelief, though he was having trouble fully comprehending the day's events. It wasn't even seeing her again, though he thought she may have been even more gorgeous as a woman than she had been pretty as a girl.
No, the thing that stopped him was Bella pitching her drink in his face and storming out of the bar.
Edward hadn't really known what he was going to say, but it turned out, he hadn't really needed to say anything at all.
Edward was still reeling from embarrassment and shock over the events the next day, even after confronting Garrett, who had admitted that he and his girlfriend Kate—who knew Bella—had figured out that they knew each other from the snatches of information Edward and Bella gave about their respective pasts. Garrett swore that it had been Kate's idea for the ambush at the bar, but Edward wasn't quite sure.
He wanted to be angrier at Garrett, but he just couldn't find it in himself. Perhaps because he had been lonely for so long in his earlier life, perhaps because he valued people over principles, Edward had never been able to hold a grudge, and that was no different now. He couldn't be mad at Garrett—no one, perhaps not even Bella herself, could have predicted how she would have reacted. Edward just wished it had gone a different way.
He had just managed to push the lingering feelings of regret out of his mind and concentrate on work when his phone rang.
"Edward Cullen speaking."
"Edward? It's… it's Bella. Swan. Bella Swan." He nearly dropped the phone.
"Um, hi Bella. What… what can I do for you?"
"Nothing. I just… I found out it was my friend Kate, who is dating Garrett—you work with him?—who decided it would be a good idea to have us meet."
"Yeah, I talked to Garrett—"
"Last night, I thought maybe you had… I don't know, set it up or something." Her voice was tentative but not meek.
"No—"
"Anyway, I'm calling to apologize. I got this number from Kate. I shouldn't have thrown a drink in your face. At least, not for that," she said, hurriedly pushing the words out of her mouth.
"Look, that's okay. But now that—"
"Bye, Edward."
And that was it. The dial tone cut him off before he could say goodbye and before he could even begin to hope. He hung up the phone in a bewildered daze, feeling that he had just been caught up in a drive-by tornado.
He stared at the phone, wondering for a second whether he had perhaps imagined the whole exchange. Everything else in his office was still and silent, and he was almost convinced that Bella had not called him when—
The phone rang again. He scrutinized the caller ID but didn't recognize the nine digits.
"Edward Cullen," he answered, using his standard work greeting, albeit with a tremble of tentativeness.
But this time, Bella didn't even bother with a greeting. "I take back my apology. You totally deserved that drink in your face. It was ten years too late, but—"
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me." Bella's tone was indignant and haughty.
"You called me to tell me that you're not sorry for embarrassing me in public?" He had still not gotten over his embarrassment from the incident and couldn't believe that Bella was being so acerbic to him.
"Umm… yeah."
"For something I did ten years ago?"
"For the some ones you did ten years ago and then claimed it was 'for me!'" Edward was livid at what he was hearing—Bella had called him back, just to reprimand him for his foolish teenage actions. Again! After she had so callously and stubbornly refused to forgive him back then, despite what amounted to groveling on his part.
Edward may still have been smitten with Bella, but he'd learned a lot about himself as he'd grown up and matured—he'd learned his own self worth, had owned up to his mistakes and didn't appreciate the condescension in Bella's voice.
"Oh yeah? Well, you weren't such a saint, either. How come it's okay for you to sleep with Jasper, who was basically as promiscuous as I was, but I get yelled at for it? Ten years after the fact!" Edward rarely showed his ire, but he had taken great pains to put his past behind him—he was no longer the same sinful, silly boy he had been.
"Well, at least he didn't sleep with my best friend! And then tell me he did it because he liked me!" Bella was clearly yelling. Edward wondered where she was that she had the freedom to raise her voice. He was in his office, so his anger was reduced to outraged hisses.
"Seriously? You don't talk to me in ten years, then you throw a drink in my face, then you call me at work to bring all this back up? Yes, I made mistakes, Bella, but you have a real problem with hypocrisy. I've wanted to talk to you, Bella, but not like this." Edward tried to take a deep, calming breath but found he was far too worked up to do so.
"Yeah?" Bella's tone was snotty and snide, like a bratty child who was angry she hadn't had the last word.
"Yes," Edward shot back. He had better things to do during his work day than be insulted and attacked, even if it was his beloved Bella who was doing so.
"Fine."
"Fine!"
"I don't even know why I called," she muttered.
"That makes two of us."
Still, despite his anger, Edward couldn't hang up until he heard Bella do so first. Sighing, he resigned that his reunion with Bella was as unsuccessful as their ill-fated date to the school dance all those years ago.
An hour later, Edward had managed to be the basic opposite of productive, still reeling from the argument he and Bella had. It was almost anachronistic, like these were words and anger and sentiments that should have been exchanged ten years ago. But they were a decade removed from that time and that place and the people they had been, and Edward felt that it was unfair for Bella to judge him now based on his actions then.
So when the phone rang again, he narrowed his eyes at it, almost like it was a living thing that had fought with him as opposed to the inanimate object that had connected him to the person who had fought with him. He glanced at the display and saw the same nine numbers as an hour before.
He inhaled deeply, steeled himself and then let out a gust of a breath as he picked up and, out of habit, answered with his standard greeting. "Edward Cullen."
"I'm sorry for yelling at you," a quiet voice informed him.
"Hi, Bella."
"Hi. And I… I'm also sorry for throwing the drink in your face. I'm not usually so… quick to anger," she said. The genuine apology in her tone combined with the regret melted away any of Edward's remaining ire. Now he was somewhat amused that after ten years of silence, she had called him three times in one hour.
"It's okay."
"Really?"
"Yeah. And I guess… maybe this is too late," he began. He took a deep breath before continuing. "But I'm sorry for what happened all those years ago, too. I was a stupid kid who thought he knew what he was doing."
"You don't have to apologize. Not now, Edward. Especially not now. I…I realize that I've been really unfair to you. You tried to apologize to me many years ago, and I never accepted it. I don't think I deserve it now," she said. He could just picture her, worrying at her bottom lip, shrugging in self-deprecation.
"Bella—" he began.
"And, you're right, it's not like I was perfectly behaved back then, either. I barely recognize the stupid, shallow teenage girl I used to be."
"I know what you mean," Edward said, nodding emphatically as if she could see him. "Like it was all one crazy, mixed up episode in an otherwise fairly normal life. Still, as much I wish I could, I can't change the past. So… sorry."
"Me, too. I'm sorry, too," Bella breathed.
"How about we take those at face value and put a moratorium on apologies?" Edward suggested. "We could spend hours playing the 'I'm sorrier' game."
Bella laughed, just a small one, but it incited a jolt of hope in Edward's animated heart. "That's true. And I'm very competitive."
"Well, we're a sorry story," Edward said. "Literally."
Bella groaned. "Ugh, at least I know that you still crack horrid puns. Other than that, how are you these days?"
"I'm good. You? When did you move here? After college?"
"No, just a couple months ago, actually. I took up a new position with ETS—the Educational Testing Service. What do you do?" Neither actively noticed nor ignored how easily they fell into an easy and amicable rapport.
"I'm in publishing, actually. I work at Simon & Schuster; I find and manage authors," Edward said. "I read for a living, and I really, really like it."
She snorted. "That figures. Once a literature nerd, always a literature nerd."
"Are you calling me names, Bella? You wound me," he quipped.
As they laughed and fell into the cadence of casual conversation, Edward realized that it felt as if a great, gaping hole in his soul was slowly being filled. Ten years of regrets and words had been expressed and, while it was a tragedy that it had taken them all this time to have an honest conversation, perhaps it had taken them so long for a reason. Perhaps neither had been ready until now.
So now, for the first time with no mysteries or missed intentions between them, Bella and Edward talked.
And Edward was pleased, but not extremely surprised, when Bella called him the next day and they talked.
And the day after that, during his lunch hour, he called her and they talked.
And the day after that one, and after that one and after that one, until without realizing it, their phone calls became part of their routine—like brushing teeth or eating a meal.
Bella worked from home, so it was easy for her to time her phone calls around Edward's schedule, usually calling him during his lunch hour. They talked about the things they had done in the past ten years; they talked about their mutual surprise that Carmen was marrying Jake and how Bella was going back to Forks in a few months for the wedding; they talked how much they loved living in a big city. And though they only talked about things that had happened after high school—in a sort of unspoken agreement—and they never attempted to communicate beyond their phone calls, they spoke every day for at least thirty minutes and spent the other hours of the day looking forward to speaking.
In general, despite avoiding questions from all his friends about what was going on with him and Bella, Edward was happy. Life was good, never better than when he and Bella were enthusiastically chatting away about everything ranging from the merit of literature nowadays and to the uselessness of reality television to Kanye West, the music and the man. But despite the gamut of topics they covered, they rarely spoke about their speckled past. And Edward was terrified of mentioning meeting up with Bella in fear of scaring her off.
Slowly, though, they began breaking down that wall that separated them unknowingly, brick by brick. First, they started texting each other when random amusing events would take place. Then they began exchanging emails, sending links to interesting articles or websites or stupid YouTube videos. Soon, they were immersed in every part of each other's life that they could be without actually seeing one another face to face.
But it still came as a shock the day Bella bulldozed down the last and most carefully erected of their barriers—the events that had transpired between the two of them in high school.
Edward had been making light conversation and had asked Bella, "Tell me something. Something that would surprise me."
Bella was silent for a few moments, which alerted Edward to the serious turn of the conversation but not the subject of it. "That summer, between sophomore and junior year of high school, the summer I sl-slept with Jasper," she stumbled over her words. She took a deep breath before continuing. "We had sort of a summer fling—it wasn't a one-night stand or anything. He…he had liked me for a long time but thought that I had no interest in him. I had thought the same thing, vice versa. It was nearly the end of summer and he was leaving Forks to go off to college, so neither of us had any grandiose illusions of a relationship, but we did kind of want to make up for lost time."
Edward was silent for a long moment as he listened, for the first time, to Bella explaining the startling revelation she had hurled in his face all those years ago. He sighed before saying, "I know all this, Bella. Jasper and I spoke about it—he explained it to me; and trust me, we both kicked ourselves a lot over it. You know we talked about it? We talked about the girl he liked and we talked about the girl I liked but the whole time, like idiots, we never actually mentioned your name. It was miscommunication at its worst—but it's okay. We're still friends, actually."
"You and Jasper?" Bella asked. Edward hummed his affirmation. "That's cool. I'm glad that didn't stand in the way of your friendship." Silently, Edward wished he and Bella could have acted similarly. "Actually, years later, I realized myself that Jasper had probably liked me for a long time."
"Oh yeah?" Edward asked. He was surprised that it didn't hurt as much as he thought it would to talk about this; yes, there was a tiny prick into his heart over the fact she was talking about Jasper this way and not him, but that was offset by the fact that she was talking to him and not Jasper after all these years.
"Yeah. I actually found this note where he had asked me to ask him to the Sadie Hawkins dance our sophomore year," Bella said. Suddenly, events that occurred over a decade ago were once again fresh in her mind. "He never signed it, so I thought it was you who had written it, but then I figured out it was him."
"How'd you do that?"
"Uh, I may have matched the handwriting on the note to the handwriting from when he signed Rose's yearbook," Bella admitted sheepishly.
Edward cracked up. "Are you sure you belong with ETS? I think you could have an excellent career as a private detective.
"Yeah, well it still took me a few years to realize it wasn't from you," Bella said.
Edward was quiet for a few moments. And when he spoke, he suddenly turned serious. "It's amazing how different high school might have been if we could have all just said what we actually meant." What would have appeared as a non-sequitur to anyone else made perfect sense to them both.
They were silent for the minutes following that, reflecting on the veracity of Edward's words and contemplating the mistakes they had made in their adolescent idiocy.
Finally, Bella spoke, purposely pervading her statement with levity. "You know, if we hadn't put the kibosh on apologizing, I would say I was sorry for telling you about me and him the way I did."
"Well, if we hadn't put the 'kibosh', as you said, on apologies, I would probably still be apologizing," Edward retorted, attempting to lighten the mood.
Bella laughed along with him and said, "Well, then it's a good thing we're not apologizing anymore."
And thus having broached and survived a conversation about their pasts, yet another barrier between them fell. But as the weeks and conversations continued, Edward began growing more and more frustrated—with himself. Despite things going swimmingly with Bella, he was still drowning in his own lingering insecurity—he feared that the minute he attempted to take his recovered relationship with Bella to the next level, and perhaps actually meet up face to face, she would shoot him down.
And so Edward found himself sitting in the park near his house on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, feeling irritated with himself. But aside from that, he couldn't help his jovial, joyous mood. As he settled himself onto a bench, he watched everyone around him, finding that they all shared in the warm, sunny joy that pervaded the air. Of course, this could have just been because he was on the phone with the girl who held his heart. She was outside, too, running errands at the farmer's market very close to where he was. Knowing her proximity to him, an invitation to meet halted itself at the tip of Edward's tongue more often than usual. But their conversation was like the day stretched out before them, giddy and whimsical, and he was enjoying himself and Bella too much to disrupt it. He couldn't force it. He knew he had to let Bella come to him.
"Tell me something about yourself, Edward." Bella's tone was playful and light, clearly indicating that she wasn't looking for any grand confessions like the one she had given when he had made the same request of her.
"What do you want to know?"
"I don't know. Something I wouldn't know about you." A lightning-fast montage of images of some of Edward's less than savory exploits few through his head. He was sure that wasn't what Bella had in mind. Seemingly having the same thought process as him, she added, "Something I wouldn't expect."
"Alright… let me think." He mulled over the events of his life, major and minor, and then remembered seeing Carmen a few weeks back. "Okay, when I was nine, my best friend in the world was Carmen Weber. Well, she was pretty much my only friend, and we used to play at the swings together, everyday." He laughed to himself as he remembered how much he had loved playing on those swings. "Anyway, she was packed off to boarding school by her dad. And after she left, I went to Reverend Weber's house and begged him to bring her back."
"What?" Bella's tone was a mixture of incredulity, surprise and the emotion best expressed as 'awww.'
"Yeah. Begged him, wound up crying, told him I'd give him my baseball card collection, even told him I'd make my parents buy him a puppy," Edward admitted.
"What?" Bella sputtered and this time couldn't hold in her laugh.
"Well, I thought the puppy was a great bargaining chip. Who wouldn't want a puppy?" Edward asked. Then he answered his own question. "Reverend Weber, that's who. He was not impressed. I don't think he really liked me."
"What? I'm sure you were imagining that. What's there not to like about a nine-year-old?"
"Uh, plenty, when said nine-year-old is kissing your ten-year-old, I guess."
"What?"
"Yeah, Carmen was my first kiss," Edward admitted sheepishly. The conversation stumbled for a few awkward moments, and Edward was afraid he had opened his mouth intending to tell a story, but ending with putting his foot in it, until Bella spoke again a few wrenching moments later.
"That's really cute, actually. Little Edward trying to bribe the local minister," Bella said. She even punctuated her sentence with a laugh. Almost immediately, their rapport bounced back to its normal buoyancy, both their spirits soaring thanks to the day and each other.
But after a few more minutes of gentle conversation, Edward couldn't find a reason good enough not to attempt to take them out of this purgatory. Yes, they may still have had things they needed to talk about, issues they needed to address, and they could never change their less-than-perfect past, but hadn't they spent these past few weeks getting to a place where all that didn't matter anymore? What were the hours of conversation building up to, if not some sort of attempt to salvage the connection they had once had and so foolishly foiled?
Without even realizing it, words were tumbling from his mouth. "Bella… would you, I mean, do you, want, or like, or think…" He stopped and took a deep breath, shaking his head and willing himself not to lapse into the stuttering, scared boy he no longer was. "Bella, would you like to go out with me sometime?"
There was a long pause, in which Edward could have sworn he paradoxically felt his heart speed up and stop at the same time. Finally, after what felt like minutes but had probably been moments, Bella spoke. "Edward, just… just hold on, okay?" But countering her request, she hung up, leaving Edward shocked and saddened, still holding the phone to his ear.
Inexplicably, her warm voice spoke again, caressing his name with obvious affection in her tone. "Edward." The words sounded different; the static of the phone had melted away, and her tone was intimate and inviting. With a start, Edward looked up and realized why—Bella was standing a few feet away from him, a shy, sweet smile on her face.
"Bella!" he exclaimed, standing up from the bench. "You're here. In the park. In front of me," he stated, rather dumbly.
"Edward," she said gently. She had a strange look on her face, and he braced himself for rejection—this time, face to face. "You're still talking into the phone."
With a start, he realized that he was indeed still holding his cell phone to his ear. He lowered it, blushing furiously (and in Bella's mind, rather adorably) and muttered (even more endearingly) an embarrassed "whoops." But his question still hung in the air and in his eyes and Bella smiled as she answered.
"Yes, Edward," she said, fighting the nervous urge to look away from him but surrendering to the urge to ramble. "You are all I think of anymore. I barely go a minute without wanting to call you and tell you something random, something stupid or silly because you never make me feel random or stupid or silly. And it makes me so nervous, how much a part of my life you've become because I still have so many questions for you and about you and I have no idea where we stand now that I've admitted all that to you. But yes, more than anything, I do want to go on a date with you."
"Who, me?" Edward cringed at the idiocy of his reply, wishing he had been stunned dumb into silence, rather than dumb into stupidity. He was both elated and amazed that he caused the same feelings in Bella as she did in him.
"See, that's the real question, isn't it? Who are you? I've been trying to figure that out since I was seventeen, Edward. Are you the guy who walked through the halls of our school like he owned them? Or are you the guy who sat on my couch and watched Gossip Girl and talked about Dorian Gray with me?" she asked.
"I think they might be the same guy. I don't..." Edward confessed, trailing off. All he wanted to do was stare at the ground, his dormant diffidence surfacing once more. But he instead looked her in the eye as he continued. "I don't know who you want me to be, Bella. Even if I did, I don't think I could…" He trailed off. He didn't want to ruin his chance before he even got one, but at the same time, he didn't want to revisit the mistakes they had perpetuated as teens. For them to have any hope, Bella had to know, needed to realize that… "I'm just Edward."
"You are, aren't you? And you've always been just Edward," Bella said, talking more to herself than him. She let out a breathy laugh and said, "I guess what I mean is: if you are the strutting, smirking guy I used to know, then be that. If you're shy and still quote literature in every conversation, then be that. If you're a mix of those two, then be that. What I'm trying to say, without sounding like a bad self-help book, is just be yourself."
"I am, Bella. Forget about high school, okay? The guy you've been talking to for weeks? That's me, absolutely and entirely, for better or for worse," Edward replied sincerely.
"Then that's who I want," she said softly. Her eyes widened as she realized what she had admitted, and she quickly tacked on, "I mean, to get to know. I meant, oh god, I meant, that's…" She closed her eyes and shook her head at her own stupidity, blushing even more furiously when she looked up to see Edward grinning, teasing and pleased, at her. "That's who I want to get to know."
Before Edward could say anything, she sat down on the bench across from him, placing the bags she carried between them, avoiding his amused and infuriatingly self-satisfied smirk. "I thought that it was such a beautiful day out, we could just have a little picnic and eat in the park so I picked up some food. You ready for that date?" Having already, through her Freudian slip, declared her feelings for Edward, she figured the best chance either of them had to make this work was to keep saying what they were thinking—hidden agendas and secret intentions were things of the past.
But this time, it was Edward who was caught by surprise at her words. "Right now?" he asked, wincing as his voice broke on the second word. Bella chuckled and then her smile grew smaller, but her eyes were alight with a significant shine.
"Yeah," she said. "We've wasted enough time, don't you think? I'm pretty hungry." She shrugged, but it was insignificant against the weight of her words.
Edward looked at her for a long, lingering moment, drawing her eyes to his. For the first time, she realized that he was wearing glasses, but his gilded gaze was as bright, smoldering and yet sweet, as she remembered.
In a soft, low voice that was incendiary, inciting, enticing all at once, he said, "I'm hungry, too." And at the look in his eyes, a random thought—something Bella hadn't really concerned herself with in over a decade—popped into her head. With Edward, she wouldn't ever have to worry about being one of those 10%. Not at all.
She swallowed quickly, dragging her mind away from the depraved depths it was plunging into and kneeled down next to the bags she had brought. As she busied herself pulling out small containers of food, she listed what they held. "We've got some salad in this box. And we have hummus and pita here."
"Oh, then that's who I want!" Edward exclaimed. Bella's head jerked toward him. Then, mimicking her, in a playful tone laden with mock embarrassment, he continued, "I mean, that's what I want. Oh god, I meant, that's what I want." He winked at her.
They were wearing matching goofy grins, besotted, bewitched, believing again in all the things their misunderstanding had ruined—in love, in attraction, in connection, perhaps even in the notion of soul mates. It had been ten years, save for their brief interlude at the bar, but in reality, it may have been the very first time that Edward and Bella actually saw each other for what they were, rather than what the other thought they should be.
"Wait a minute," he said slowly, piecing the events together. "If you bought all this stuff while on the phone with me… that means you were planning this even before I asked you out."
Looking straight at him, she said, boldly, beatifically, "Like I said. I didn't feel like wasting any more time." And with that, she leaned over and kissed him. It was a simple kiss, just his bottom lip firmly ensconced between her upper and lower ones. It was a chaste kiss, as there were at least three feet and two carrier bags full of food between them. It was a soft kiss, and all he could feel besides her mouth, finally, finally on his, were the tips of her index and middle fingers under his chin, gently holding his face to hers.
It was short but held the promise of prolonged kisses to come. It was sweet but hinted at potential passion to follow. Whatever it was, it was worth the wait.
Mere moments later, and far too early for either of them, Bella pulled away. She sat back onto her side of the bench and busied herself with setting up their meal, eyes on her task, except for the brief moments she would sneak up to look at him, her small, satisfied smile at odds with the blush stealing across her cheeks.
Edward wasn't even bothering to hide his grin, just gazing at her openly with all the adoration of a love-struck teen. To him, it was a little like the day that he and Bella had worked on that project all those years ago, except infinitely better. She had given him hope, a way to get to her, albeit this time far more honestly and realistically. It was, after all, a first date. They could realize that they were completely incompatible or that the infatuation they had shared in high school had been inflated with the passage of time. But Edward hadn't dated too much in the ten years since he'd last seen Bella, and he knew one thing: he'd adored the same girl since he was ten.
And now, right this minute, because she didn't want to waste any more time than he did, he was on a date with her. A first date, he attempted to remind himself, but he couldn't help but picture their future together. It wasn't going to be easy—Bella had made it clear that, intentionally or not, there would be a lot of obstacles due to his heinous and her hurtful high school mistakes. But he had long ago realized that he would do anything for Bella Swan.
So he would. And he would jump however high she asked, and he would woo her and win her over. He would love and cherish her. And he would do that by being just what she asked: himself.
She would find out all the things that made him him. That he preferred brunettes (really, he preferred Bella). That he liked disgustingly milky coffee and was considering moving to a bigger apartment because his current one didn't have enough room for his books. That he couldn't remain angry for an extended period of time and that he cracked really, really bad jokes (she may have already known this.) That despite an impressive vocabulary, he had never finished a crossword, that his favorite possessions were a 1891 first edition of The Picture of Dorian Gray and a bowler hat he had stolen from her father's cruiser. That he looked at his promiscuous past with a cringing reminiscence rather than a macho pride; that despite his issues with them, he still called his parents every two weeks; and that he never wanted to go back to Forks again. She would find out that he had loved her since he was ten and that even now, before they embarked on their first date, he knew that she was, as always, the only one for him.
These were the thoughts—of loving and learning, of other halves and better halves, of having and holding—that were running through Edward's head as he accepted a box of food from her, letting his hand linger on hers intentionally longer than necessary. Silly Bella thought this was just a first date—she had no idea what Edward was thinking. What crazy, crazy things Edward was thinking.
-fin-
Just like a mullet- Business up front:
I am hosting a competition called the Superhero Contest. We've got amazing judges and a really fun theme. Check it out and considering participating here: /u/2379475/ I am contributing to Fandom Gives Back: One outtake from Legendary and one 4000+ word one shot. The content of these will be decided on by myself and the winner. Please consider participating.
I am working on a new story as well. If you are so inclined, put me on author alert. I should begin posting within the next two weeks. Also, if you haven't read them, outtake #1 sheds a little light on the j/b and outtake #2 on Edward's childhood and the reference to the bowler hat.
My blabbering, 'you're awesome' party, bringing up the back:
Thanks for sticking with me through this story; whether you liked or hated the last chapter, or this epilogue, it means a lot that you're here with me at the end. This fic would have gone nowhere if not for Quothme, my beta and cheerleader from even before the very first word. Additional thanks to everyone who reviews and the people who were so kind as to rec through blogs/comms/story chaps/twitter/etc. I can't name you all but please know I appreciate so very much.
I write for myself, but I post for you and you, wonderful readers, have gone beyond my wildest expectations. Thank you and I hope to see your familiar pennames around, whether on my other stories or just loafing around the fandom.