A/N: Why can't Twilight be mine?
Thanks to the ladies with red pens and brilliant minds: askthemagic8ball, katinki, and sncmom – I love them hard. Also, thank you to KlrTwiLuver who has also pimped out this fic on Twitter.
Jasper pushed past Edward, who stood paralyzed, and swiftly strode toward Bella. He lifted her from the chair, consoling her. "Shh, come on, sweetie. I've got you," he said, and carried her upstairs.
After Gabriel rose from the floor, he walked toward Edward, asking how much he'd heard, intending to explain. But before Gabriel could say anything more, Edward's hands connected roughly with his chest. Gabriel staggered, raising his hands in defense just before Edward shoved him up against the wall, pictures rattled, and he did it again. He seethed with rage and confusion and hate.
"Fucking prick!" Spit flew from his mouth, his face contorting in anger, veins jutted around his temples and strained at his neck. He had Gabriel pinned, growling out expletives and threats at the "fucking cocksucker" who'd hurt her.
Gabriel grabbed Edward's wrists. "Enough!" he yelled, pushing Edward away. "Control yourself!"
A loud smack echoed as the palm of Edward's hand hit the wall.
Edward paced back and forth in short distance; Gabriel watched with a cautious eye as he waited for him to calm down. Gabriel knew his godson had a temper, but never had he imagined Edward would react with such physical force.
Edward's head jumbled; it raced with thoughts of revenge and inadequacy. "Fix her," he said. "You tell me how to make this right."
"It's not that easy."
"I fucking know that!" he snapped, and Gabriel told him to lower his voice. "Just tell me what to do."
"Everything you saw and heard, Edward - that was huge for her. But if you continue to behave like a damn baboon it will be nothing but detrimental to any progress she will make!"
Every muscle in Edward's body was tight, hot; he gripped the back of his neck, absorbing what Gabriel said, what he'd heard Bella admit. He realized now it was as if her frailty was woven with strands of dragline silk. When Edward was a boy, he'd been fascinated with the intricacy of a spider's web. On summer days, he'd spend hours with his nose mere inches from the impossibly perfect structure enthralled by its magnificence. He dared to touch a web one hot afternoon which had been constructed between two of his mother's azalea bushes. The owner of the snare, a large orange and black creature, sat in the middle, and when Edward had reached out his finger, the web pulled, and the spider scattered.
"I don't want that," Edward said.
"All right then, let me do my job. I do need to ask something of you, though."
"I'm not leaving."
"No, that's not what I was going to say, but you have to get your things in order at home – figure out where you stand, what you're going to do about Senna… Edward, I want you to start talking to someone as well. Not me, of course, but maybe a colleague of mine."
Edward sat on the floor, his head pressed back against the wall outside Bella's room for an hour, or maybe it had been two. In truth, he wasn't sure how much time had passed; he stared at the plain white ceiling, at a dark wooden knob on the high-boy across from him, he stared at a deep green shard which seemingly held no significance in the pattern of the stained glass window above the piece of furniture. All the while, he hadn't truly seen anything. Instead, he thought about what he knew - things which made sense. He'd always known the solution to any problem presented: a client who perhaps had gotten overzealous in their endeavors, he'd ensure an invisible technological glitch be implanted in the heart of their survival. A scrape on his daughter's knee would require Edward to play doctor, pretending she needed immediate medical attention, sometimes even surgery which simply equated to a bandage festooned with her favorite character. He'd then take her out for ice cream. But now, he was helpless - there was no immediate solution. Edward knocked his head back against the wall in aggravation then rose from the floor to make his way downstairs. He retrieved his cell phone from his coat pocket; he spoke with his daughter for close to thirty minutes, happily listening to her explain in detail everything she and her grandparents had done over the past week. He told her he loved her and promised adventures of their own when he returned. Edward went back upstairs, knocked warily on Bella's door, but turned the handle before hearing a response.
Jasper was perched on one end of the plum cushion seat of the window and Bella on the other. He patted her knee as he stood and then did the same to Edward's arm as he left the room.
Edward closed the door behind him. Bella's eyes flickered toward him. Unsure, uneasy, she now vacillated about how she'd handle this moment and looked out the window. Part of her was grateful Jasper had decided to come back to the house early; everything was now out in the open. And even though he made no confessions, Bella was fairly certain he and Edward coming in when they had was purposeful. The other part of her, however, wanted nothing more than to not have the conversation she was about to have with Edward.
"I don't want your pity," she said, watching his reflection in the window. He narrowed the distance between them, and she stiffened, her insides coiling.
Edward sat on the edge of her bed. "I'd never do that."
She drew in a shaky breath. "I don't want you to tell me how sorry you are, either."
"Okay… but I am."
"Edward-"
"What am I supposed to say?" His voice strained. "Do you want me to pretend that I didn't walk in on you sitting in that chair crying and just ignore the things I heard? Jesus Christ, Bella, I love you, and it's fucking killing me right now that I can't do a damn thing about it."
"I'm scared." She pressed her head against the cold window. The chill of the glass was soothing, and she hugged her knees to her chest. He asked why. "This might end us."
His stomach flip-flopped. "You're wrong."
"I'm a mess."
"Not to me."
"I'm broken."
"Nobody's perfect."
She huffed.
Edward looked down. "I wish you could see yourself as I do," he said quietly, his voice so low he wondered if she heard him.
There hadn't been many moments of clarity throughout Bella's life, those where the true path was the obvious choice, one she'd tackle willingly - like the day she decided to leave home - but this time was an exception. She turned her focus to Edward, and as she did, he lifted his head, their eyes locking - she heard him. Bella studied him for several moments, allowing the future she craved from his words to coincide with her present. Because if she shelved this, him, if she loosened her grip too soon, she'd face unfathomable consequences of beginning anew.
"The other night, you asked me to be your sun," she said. "You're mine, you know."
"Come on," Edward said, offering his hand as he stood. "Let's get out of here for a little while."
Bella washed her face and brushed out her hair. She stared at her reflection for a while, some days she hated what she saw, but now, she was okay with it. What had transpired only hours prior with Gabriel, his voice booming challenges and accusations thus breaking her down; he'd made her felt small until she felt liberated. She mourned the parents she deserved and cursed the ones she had been given when she and Jasper sat alone in her room; he listened and offered smiles and held hands as she went on and on, toggling emotions of anger and sorrow. And now Edward was waiting for her, his reaction better than she'd imagined; he whet her palate with a security she'd longed for. It's a new day, she thought, that feeling of power rising once again. Bella reached in the shower and turned the valve to hot, no matter she'd taken one that morning.
"Edward, I'm going to take a quick shower," she said, peering around the side of the door. He was sitting on the bed again, hair combed, coat on, the scene before her oddly reminiscent – like déjà vu, or perhaps an old desire come true. "I'll just be a few more minutes."
He smiled. "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."
After Edward and Bella descended the stairs, Gabriel asked to speak with Bella privately.
"Are you okay?" he asked after leading Bella into the office.
She'd only poked her head into this room once since she'd arrived and thought nothing of it. But now, seeing Gabriel stand among the rich wood and leather furniture, the simplistic order flowing throughout, Bella could see how very much this room was Gabriel.
"Bella? I asked if you were okay."
She smiled, breaking from her thoughts. "No, but I want to be."
"All right - when you and Edward get back, I want to go over a plan with you. We'll set up a few goals, talk about when you want to go back to your apartment – things like that." She nodded. "You're in the driver's seat, Bella, and I want you to know you can stay here as long as you like, but I'd like to start talking with you in a more formal setting."
"What does that mean, formal setting? As in you in a white coat and me in a padded cell?"
He smiled. "No, it means you and I having our sessions in my office in town. I've got to head back tomorrow – post holiday rush and all." He winked; she went slack jawed. "I'm kidding, sorry, horrible joke."
"No, it's fine," she laughed. "I'd never peg you for one to have such inappropriate humor."
"And a padded cell isn't inappropriate?" Gabriel crossed his arms, sitting on the edge of his desk. "We have a lot to talk about, starting next week. Okay? In the meantime, you and Edward need to start talking about where the two of you are going, what you want out of your relationship."
Her relationship with Edward, the thought was… overwhelming.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"I don't want to talk to another doctor; I trust you. But you're Edward's family, and I know we sort of covered this in the hospital… I need to know if it's going to cause any problems between the two of you because I don't want to come between you. And then there's Jasper – I like him. I don't want to lose his friendship because his husband happens to be my shrink. I'm so tired of secrets."
"I can't guarantee my being your doctor will or won't cause problems between Edward and me, but he's a big boy, he'll be able to deal with it. And, Bella, secrets are only kept by those who hold them. One step at a time – you're in the driver's seat, remember?"
She clucked her tongue, raising a brow. "You know if you're going to try and pull this metaphorical crap in our sessions, I'm not going to buy it."
"Is that so? I thought I was being quite poetic." She laughed, and Gabriel eased off the desk, sliding his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "I'm sorry things had to come out the way they did, but you should know what you accomplished today was pretty incredible."
/
"Do you have any idea where we're going?" They sped down the two-lane road lined with trees the size of giants, live and dead brush lay at the feet of the massive trunks, all of it a blur of green and brown as evening approached.
"Not really," he laughed and squeezed their laced fingers. "Any suggestions?"
She threw a pointed, albeit playful look at him. "I don't really know my way around here, so, no, sorry." Bella pursed her lips.
"Is that your angry face?" he asked. "It's a little adorable."
"Just a little?"
"My mistake - a lot adorable."
She shook her head and looked out the passenger window. "Are you hungry? I'm getting there."
"I could eat. In the mood for anything in particular?"
"Not really, and considering we're most likely in the middle of nowhere, I think the first place we find will work for me," she teased.
"Hmm. That could be a while… How about Paris?" he blurted, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.
"What?"
"You know, that city in France? I hear they have pretty good food: cheese, wine… chocolate mousse?"
"Uh huh, sure. Let's go." Bella shook her head, smiling.
"I'm serious… but only if you want to."
She shifted in her seat to face him. He half smiled, raising his brow. "You're serious," she repeated, and he nodded. Her heart fluttered at the thought. "You don't want to wait until spring?" It was wonderfully strange discussing travel plans as a normal couple might, but she was caught in a whirlwind of emotions.
Edward shrugged, focusing his attention back on the road. "No, we can, but I was thinking…" he paused, and Bella waited. "You have an entire week before you really start to work with Gabriel, and, well, you've had a pretty shitty month."
Truth be told, his intentions were honest, but a pang of worry had reared itself once more - a thought so loud in his ears it may as well have been shouted through a megaphone. What if she didn't want him after she became well?
"You realize how crazy that is, don't you?" she said. "It would be amazing, though." Bella settled further into her seat, exhaustion suddenly setting in, and she yawned.
Edward looked in her direction, and then down at their hands. He lifted and turned hers; he kissed her wrist then her palm. Regardless of his fear, he'd sacrifice himself for her.
"It will be," he said. "I'm sorry – that was stupid of me to even bring it up. You just tell me whenever you want to go."
She smiled. "I didn't say no."
Edward slowed the car, pulling over onto the shoulder. "No pressure," he said. "I'm being selfish, and… I don't know, I just want you to be happy. I have a tendency to go a little overboard at times."
Bella straightened in her seat. She thought back to her conversation with Gabriel, what he said about what she wanted out of a relationship with Edward. "Let's say we do go, will it be the happiest time we'll ever have together?"
"God, I hope not," he said in earnest.
"Okay. Tomorrow?" she asked, and he grinned.
/
"You two go out for a drive and come back to tell me you're leaving for Europe the next day," Gabriel said. "You know what I'm thinking, don't you?"
"I have a good idea. Four days," she explained. "I promise you I'm not, we're not running away."
"Bella-"
"You have to trust me. I don't want to run off and pretend like everything is perfect, okay? Do you have any idea of all the shit that's gone through my head today? Look, I need you, but right now, I need a break."
Gabriel wrote down his cell phone number and handed it to Bella. She already had it but took the folded paper from him anyway. "Call me when you get to your apartment tomorrow – if you need to. And if you feel like you want to talk or anything before I see you again, you can call me then, too."
The following morning, saying goodbye to Jasper was harder than Bella imagined it would be. In the very short time they'd gotten to know one another, he'd become a true friend, wanting nothing in return - the concept unfamiliar to her. Gabriel had left the house before sunrise, and after breakfast, Jasper told Bella and Edward they should be on their way as well. Jasper wrapped Bella in his arms, kissed her cheek and made her swear she'd give him another shot at beating her at Scrabble. She said she would.
/
Bella dreaded crossing the threshold into her apartment, anxiety nearly suffocating her. She hadn't been there since her release from the hospital, and even then she'd spent no more than twenty minutes quickly throwing essentials into her suitcase before she'd gone to Gabriel and Jasper's. Edward entered first, sensing her fear and set her suitcase by the door.
A musty odor filled the air, and she noticed a thin layer of dust had collected on a side table in her absence. Bella walked directly toward a window, opening it as wide as it would go. A gust of wind blew and ruffled the curtains; she shivered. Edward asked if there was anything he could do for her; they still had six hours until their flight, but both needed to pack, and his home was located on the other side of town. Bella would not be accompanying Edward to his empty apartment. They had both agreed it be best if he gathered his things by himself, neither wanting to risk the possibility him being seen with another woman.
Edward surveyed the mute surroundings; everything was beige and white. Her choice of aesthetics not at all what he had imagined; he'd always pictured something more bold and brilliant.
"I'll take your bag to your room. It's down the hall?"
She said yes and thanked him.
Her bed was unmade, the red comforter lying mostly on the floor. Red. He wondered briefly if this color was merely a coincidence. His eyes were then drawn toward an empty wine glass which sat on her nightstand. He immediately felt sick. Edward knew this was where the paramedics had found her, so why hadn't he better prepared himself for this? He raked his hand through his hair, angry he'd been so utterly stupid for not coming here sooner. He would have washed her sheets, disposed of the glass…
"It's a mess in here. Sorry," she said.
Edward whipped around, startled. It took him a moment to realize she'd obviously had already been here. They hadn't talked about this – they hadn't talked about much of anything.
"Sweetheart, this is not messy." He chuckled, though unconvincingly, waving his hand, walking toward the bed, and then began stripping the sheets.
"What are you doing?" She folded her arms, leaning against the frame of the door; his odd behavior momentarily pushed aside her discomfort of being in this room.
Edward held the bundle of sheets and blanket in his arms and awkwardly picked up the glass with his hand. He shrugged and asked where her washing machine was as he walked past her.
She wondered if he noticed the color of the linens he had in his arms.
Bella went to her closet and retrieved the portable safe from a high shelf - her passport buried among the mass of investment certificates, a few thousand dollars, and other unimportant items. She'd always paid cash for everything, the IRS and federal government alike would never take kindly to how she earned her money in the past.
Edward held his blackberry to his ear, assuring his assistant, Kathryn, he'd give her a few added vacation days if she would go to his home and pack the items he'd need for his trip. She agreed without hesitation, and not for the promise of extra time off, but because she was loyal to Mr. Cullen. They arranged to meet at the airport two hours prior to his flight's scheduled departure time. He then gave Kathryn enough work related instructions to cover the next four days.
Bella asked Edward why he changed his mind about going to his apartment himself. He placed his hands on her cheeks.
"I don't want to be away from you any more than I have to." He leaned in to kiss her, slow, soft, his thumbs gently glided over her cheekbones, and she threaded her hands through his hair.
A few hours later, the two sat side by side on Air France flight 023. Estimated arrival times were announced over the intercom spoken first in English and then in French.
The plane began to taxi down the runway. Bella looked around at the other passengers: a balding and stout, older man in a wrinkled suit sat adjacent to her, a young couple who were chatting animatedly in French sat two rows ahead, and a woman who was sitting just one row in front of her was looking at a picture on her cell phone, clearly ignoring the request to turn off all electronic devices. Bella squinted; she surreptitiously leaned forward a little to get a better view. The picture was of a bouquet of roses and by the way the woman cradled her phone, Bella wondered if the flowers might have been a parting gift which had been confiscated before she boarded the plane. She felt sad for the woman if her assumptions were true, yet her skin tingled feeling Edward's hand in hers. She looked at the woman's picture of the arrangement once more, unexpectedly struck by a whimsical memory. Bella laughed to herself.
"What's so funny?" he asked, smiling.
Bella shook her head. "I like flowers."
a/n: Thank you so much for reading.