"All pain is a punishment,
and every punishment is inflicted for love as much as for justice."
Marie Maistre

CHAPTER 5: UNINTENTIONAL PAIN

The next three weeks were rather lazy. Lizzie and I tried to do some writing but would get sidetracked by George, or one of her neighbors, or even Edward. Many late afternoons were spent with the three of us taking walks on the beach together laughing and looking for sea shells. In the evenings, we'd play scrabble or cards. Edward was always polite, not really saying much about himself, not really talking directly to me very often at all.

On several other occasions Edward found me reading quietly in Lizzie's grand library. He would come in, glance at me, sit in one of the other leather chairs in the room and begin reading a book that he had brought in with him.

I had finished the 'The Art of War' and had moved on to a book about Napoleon Bonaparte's battlefield strategies and battlefield experiences, mainly because I wondered if I could pick up on the tactics spoken of in the other book. I'm not sure why, exactly… I just wanted to know more about the subject and Napoleon seemed to be a good place to start.

When Edward noticed what I was reading, I thought his eyes were going to bug out of his head. I didn't think I was supposed to notice him staring at me—he was trying to be discrete. But I caught him gazing at me intently one afternoon as I was reading my chosen subject.

"Yes, Edward? Is there something I can help you with?" I asked him very quietly but very politely.

"I honestly can't figure out why you're reading that. It just seems…" He tore his eyes away from me, shaking his head and chuckling to himself.

"I'm glad I amuse you." I gave a little huff and went back to my reading.

Several minutes later I swore I heard him say, "Fascinating…" under his breath. I looked over at him through my curtain of hair, which had fallen forward along my chin, to see if I would pick up on anything else he might say, but he was quiet from that point on.

Even though I enjoyed Lizzie's company immensely and shockingly, occasionally Edward's, I ended up taking a few walks by myself. I'd always found that I could think clearly when I was alone. It had never really bothered me to be alone. I enjoyed the peace, the quiet; not having to always carry a conversation. Of walking just for the joy of walking.

It was so charming at Sandy Beach... Sometimes I would just walk out Lizzie's double front doors and see where my feet would end up taking me. Since Lizzie had a rather large piece of property, I had to be careful not to get lost, however.

Twice I found myself at the Masen family cemetery. It was strangely serene—with a low stone wall surrounding the few tombstones that were still standing. There were six very large trees that surrounded the wall. Two had huge branches that went right over the wall. I would sit on the wall, with my back propped up against one of the thick branches thinking over Lizzie's novel, my father, my life in San Francisco… And puzzling over Edward. Since he wasn't very talkative about himself, I was having some difficulty deciphering his personality, the meanings behind his little quirks… What makes him tick, exactly? I walked back to the house slowly and ended up on the back veranda, in one of the large rocking chairs.

Thinking over some of our conversations, however, I started picking out certain comments he'd made, specific ways he'd answered some of his Gran's questions to 'flesh out' his character.

He was thoughtful, extremely careful. Edward was very intelligent. He had an engaging, clever sense of humor. Lizzie called it his 'dry, English wit.' I smiled wistfully as I thought of his amazing smile, his gorgeous eyes…

Stop thinking like that! I scolded myself. And then I let a quiet little sigh escape my lips. Because, I had to be honest with myself; he was rather captivating. He was strong, even brave—someone I could respect. Someone I could… Ugh! Stop it, stop it, stop it! I really needed to get a grip.

I had noticed several quiet conversations held in the kitchen between Lizzie and her grandson and I didn't intrude. He had really come to see her for a reason. To check on her, yes, but also something was troubling him deeply. He needed his Gran, it was as simple as that. Even I could see it.

However, it made me wish my grandparents, any of them, really, were still alive. I was glad I had my dad but growing up without a mom had been hard. And my last living grandmother had passed away when I was just six, just two years after my mother had died.

Lizzie was like having a mom, grandmother and best friend all rolled into one.

I guess I was a little jealous of Edward. I hoped he would keep in touch with her better. Especially since, at some point, I would be leaving to go back home to California.

That depressed me almost instantly. I was sort of wallowing in self-pity and didn't see Edward come out onto the veranda until it was too late. He'd seen the expression on my face. "What is it, Isabella?" He asked curiously.

"Nothing, really." I tried to smile to make him forget about the look he must have seen on my face. It didn't work.

"No. I saw a look on your face that seemed very… Sad." He cocked his head to one side and asked me again, "What is it?" as he sat down in one of the rocking chairs that was directly across from mine. He leaned forward, placing his arms across his knees with his hands lightly together. The sincerity of his question and the look of concern in his eyes made my heart skip a beat.

I sighed and took a deep breath, attempting to ignore the look on his face and concentrated on how to answer his question honestly. I didn't want to prove him right about Lizzie's stories being depressing; which wasn't really the case. They were magical, beautiful, haunting… But not depressing.

I was depressed about leaving.

Certainly not about my time spent with her or her wonderful stories. I ended up telling him as much.

He got a strange look on his face, like he had just tasted something bitter. "I really hope you're right and she doesn't have any trouble adjusting to you not being here anymore after you're gone, with only the memories of her past to keep her company."

"I hope so, too. I know we'll stay in touch, though." I leaned my head back against the rocking chair and looked at him with one eye closed and my nose scrunched up. "There's just no way I could not talk to her at least once a week." I felt relieved. I'd managed to not cry as I'd answered him and I'd been honest—I felt there was great importance in being honest with him.

He looked over at me and gave a little nod. "Yeah. I know how you feel." He stood up abruptly from the other rocker and went back into the house without saying another word.

This was now twice that had happened, where he'd suddenly walked away from me. It only seemed to happen when we were having a conversation without Lizzie present, though. The conversations between Edward and I seemed to make him anxious and then he'd become almost irritated. With me or something else, I couldn't discern. However, when Lizzie or even George was around we would have an almost playful banter going on between us.

I felt like the difference in his attitude towards me when we were alone compared to when others were present was almost giving me whiplash.

It was actually very annoying. I really am thinking about him way, way too much…

I sat up suddenly in my chair, my hand had involuntarily gone to my mouth and I gasped. He knew… He knew that I was interested in him and he didn't want me to think there was any chance. At all.

I felt crushed. A tear slowly found its way down my face to my chin. I slowly wiped it away. Too late to wipe away my inexplicable feelings for him… Too late to realize I was falling hard for Edward.

That thought just brought more silent tears. Soon I would be leaving to go back to San Francisco, where I lived—but my home no longer. I now knew what home felt like, thanks to Lizzie. I hadn't felt this way since…

Since Jacob and I had been married.

I quietly cried as I watched the sun set.

~~:::~~

Things were relaxed around the house. We—Myself, Gran, Isabella, even George—got into a routine. A comfortable existence.

I had even discovered her on several occasions reading in the library again. Her choices were… Interesting.

She was interesting. Fascinating. Enchanting. I sighed. I at least knew more about her…

I had of course spoken to Gran about all the where's and why's of Isabella ending up staying with her over the last month. It actually made perfect sense. My Gran had a contractual obligation with the publishing company that she would fulfill. However, it was quickly obvious to me that she would have continued to work on her last, great novel with or without that contract. I smiled to myself.

Of course Isabella was a huge part of her finishing the novel—even I could bear witness to her insightfulness and intelligence. There was no doubt in my mind; I firmly believed that my Gran certainly wouldn't have been able to finish it without Bella having been there.

Bella... I like the sound of that. Hummm. Italian for beautiful… I always called her 'Isabella' when speaking directly to her out of respect but I began calling her 'Bella' in my mind. It sounded endearing. Casual. Intimate. Stop right there, Cullen!

No. I couldn't afford to get in any deeper… She would be leaving to go back to her home in California in a few weeks. I would be leaving to go back home to England around the same time. We were acquaintances. That was all.

Really? That last thought made me pause…

I blinked. Even though we'd spent less than a month together and I'd done my best to stay out of her's and Gran's way—she was there to help my grandmother after all—the time we'd spent together made me feel… Well, happy. I grinned at myself but only for a moment.

I could feel the smile slide off my face as I realized I would never hear her laugh again, never see her radiant smile, never see the flash of mischievousness in her eyes that would appear at random moments…

Never have the opportunity to move my fingers along her exquisite skin, over her cheekbone, along her jaw… Why torture yourself? She isn't interested in you. I winced. I probably just came across as some rich playboy type, which of course I was not.

But, what if she had feelings for me…?

Maybe you should just leave now, avoid the inevitable disappointment. I had an involuntary intake of breath. That thought was actually… Painful. An ache in my chest that I'd never felt before. I looked out across the back tennis court to the ocean.

I thought over the conversation I'd finally been able to have with my grandmother several days before.

I'd told her about my plans for taking over the family estate in West Sussex. She'd only been there once, many years ago, and thought that my idea was fantastic. I wasn't exactly surprised by her enthusiastic support but it still meant a lot to me. Her support bolstered my decision.

She knew that I'd gotten my Cambridge degree in Biological Sciences, with an emphasis on modern farm techniques. It actually made all the sense in the world to her. Of course it would mean moving several hours south of London. Which, she reminded me, was exactly how I'd explained where I lived to Bella already. I smiled inwardly. Of course I'd already subconsciously made up my mind.

I'd also explained to her all about Lauren.

My Gran... Ahh yes. I shook my head gently. Even though I'd been very careful and exact with my description of the situation, she immediately picked up on the fact that I wasn't heartbroken—not even a bit sad. A bit confused, yes. But not sad.

I should have known. Even though we hadn't been talking a lot over the last few years, she had sensed through our few telephone conversations that I had been unhappy.

I explained to my grandmother that I'd felt like Lauren and I were only together for the simple reason that neither of us wanted to be alone. That, even though I had thought that I loved her, I had felt so completely detached about the relationship. I told her what my friend Rosalie had discovered. What my sister and Rosalie had ended up telling me about her.

Lauren was seeing someone else behind my back. I told her that when they'd explained it all to me I didn't even act startled, certainly not distraught in any way. I'd actually suspected as much. I also knew then that I didn't love her, that I probably never had. I broke up with her that very same day without even a backwards glance.

I told my Gran that I didn't really know what love was supposed to be like. I had of course watched it grow and evolve with her and my grandfather, with my parents, Alice and Jasper, and now my best friends, Rosalie and Emmett. I honestly didn't think I would ever be able to find someone that could love me like that—unconditionally. Completely.

That's when things with Gran got a bit uncomfortable.

"Edward…" she looked completely bewildered as she spoke to me. "How do you not see it?"

I looked at her over the large kitchen island, still stirring my iced tea. "What do I not see?" I was totally confused. "This is why I wanted to talk to you so badly, to pour out my soul to you a little bit." I felt a little frustrated. "I was hoping you could help me…"

She gently cut me off, putting a hand up in the air. "Edward. I am helping you. But I can't bring you to a place that you're already at." Her hand dropped back to the counter to make a muffled thwak sound against one of her tea towels.

She looked up at me with an almost heartbroken look in her eyes. "You completely understand love. Deep in your soul you thoroughly know how to express love. It's time for you to open yourself up to it."

She quickly wiped some tears away and I saw her eyebrows pull together. "You've known since almost the very moment you walked into this house." She finally whispered.

I stared at her. I felt—frozen. I couldn't admit to myself what she was trying to tell me. What I did already know but was desperately keeping my distance from mentally. I suppose looking back I'd been trying to somehow protect myself... I know at that precise moment the emotion that coursed through me suddenly was denial.

For just a moment, I know that Gran could see the realization streak across my features. But she also watched my face change, first torn and then alter to an impenetrable mask.

"Well. There's no point in continuing to talk to you if you're just going to speak in riddles." I walked out of the kitchen leaving my iced tea on the counter and my Gran saddened to the point of slow, fat tears dropping from her eyes onto that same counter.

I went straight to my room, got changed, and went out for a long run. As if I could have ever truly succeeded in running from myself. I thought later.

Little did I realize at the time exactly how much emotion and passion I was running from. Something Gran had been trying to help me see within myself for many weeks...

Almost an entire additional week would pass before I would finally, completely figure it out.

I ended up being devastatingly successful in protecting myself.

But I would be much, much too late to avoid hurting someone else.

~~:::~~

I ended up helping Lizzie with the novel after breakfast on my fortieth day of being with her. It had actually been almost a month and a half that I'd been away from San Francisco. I knew that I'd probably be leaving soon but I also knew that Edward would be staying a week or so past my departure date. I felt a bit melancholy about that fact.

Lizzie had been really happy that he came to see her but I still couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't trust me. And then, of course, there were my own feelings about him to contend with… I did my best to ignore those.

We spent five hours that morning going over her notes, with me typing away on my laptop, editing as I went. She was such a fantastic story-teller. It was mesmerizing to listen to her.

"Well," she had stopped dictating and tapped my arm, "I think it's time for lunch don't you?"

I continued to type. "Umm hum… That sounds great."

She put her hands over mine on the keyboard and stated very quietly, "We need to go have our lunch now."

"But we're almost done…" I started to sound a little whiny even to myself. I looked up at her and noticed that she had a very serious expression on her face. I couldn't place it. Then I took stock of what I had just said.

We both abruptly started to laugh almost uncontrollably. She started dancing around her library saying things like, "We ARE almost done! Yippee!" and "Woohoo!" I clapped my hands and cheered her on.

She slowed and stopped after just a few minutes. "Holy Toledo, that tired me out." She laughed again. "Come on, Miss Swan, it's time to go eat!"

I saved where I was on her novel, backed it up to the flash drive, sent an email with the last chapter and some additional notes to Angela, turned the computer off, and got up from the couch.

I put my arm through hers. We tramped off to the kitchen together very pleased with ourselves and all that we'd done, all the work we'd accomplished.

I felt relief and happiness wash through me and then… Sadness. Complete, utter sadness.

It was over. She didn't need my help anymore.

I would never see Edward again…

I felt suddenly sick to my stomach. Lizzie had already poured some milk into two glasses and had started making our sandwiches. She looked up and saw my changed expression.

"Oh, my dear, what is it?" She looked at me with sadness in her eyes. I think after seeing my expression she too realized that our time together was coming to an end. She came around the kitchen island and took both my hands in hers.

"Sweetie, we'll stay in touch. Don't be sad."

But I was. Very quietly I said, "But I'll miss you so much…" She stopped me from going any farther. She didn't want to see me cry.

"You are a wonderful, vibrant young lady. You have so much to look forward to. You can't stay here with me forever." She shook her head. "Nor should you."

I didn't know. As much as I missed San Francisco, my dad, my friends at work, I knew I'd miss this place more. I couldn't explain it. She was right, but…

"I'm not very hungry right now. I think I'm going to go take a walk along the beach." I dropped my hands from hers and looked up into her worried eyes. "I'll be fine. You're right, of course." I rolled my eyes at her and gave her a little smile. "As usual."

She smiled back at me and gave a little knowing nod. "You'll be al'right girlie."

~~:::~~

I went to my room to change into something warmer. It seemed that clouds had come in while we'd been working that morning and it had gotten rather cold out. No rain, just cloudy and cold. I put on my boots, left my same jeans on and changed into a v-neck sweater and a windbreaker.

I had just stepped out the front doors but hadn't quite closed it yet when I heard quick but heavy footsteps behind me. I turned to see Edward flying towards me, obviously very angry about something. I actually took several steps back as he reached me. He stopped, almost panting, and gave a nod in my direction. "I hope you're happy!" He almost spit the words at me. "Gran's in the kitchen right now crying her eyes out!"

He'd assumed that she was crying over something I'd said to her, when in fact she was crying for the same reason I was. Sadness. But not the kind that Edward assumed it was.

"You think I'd just walk away from her, leaving her in some state of anxiety over something I'd said or something she'd told me that had upset her?" I asked him very quietly. He still hadn't noticed the tears on my face.

He ran his hand through his hair as he spoke to me. "How can you not see what all this writing business has done to her!" He glared at me. "She's reliving memories that should. Be. Forgotten!" He actually shouted the last part at me.

I was speechless, dumbfounded. He was still convinced that her writing was somehow a bad thing. He had one hand on his hip and the other hung stiffly at his side. Then he pointed at me.

"You obviously have NEVER experienced any REAL loss." He shook his head condescendingly at me. "That's why it's so easy for you to act like your 'helping' her and then leave! You won't be here to watch her heart break into pieces!" He actually did quotation marks in the air when he had said 'helping.' I was too shocked to even respond.

Then he said something so quietly that I just couldn't believe I'd heard him correctly. "How can you do it? Be so… Cruel?"

I jerked my head up to look into his face, aghast, to be further assaulted by the bitterness in his eyes.

That did it. I started to cry again, in real earnest now.

I turned and ran. As fast as my legs would carry me. Away from Lizzie's beautiful home, away from Lizzie…

And her heartless grandson.

~~:::~~

"Edward..." Very quietly Gran came up behind me in the foyer.

After my cataclysmal temper-tantrum, Bella had run out the doors away from me as if the very devil himself were after her. Suddenly it dawned on me that she had been crying before I had found her. What had I accused her of?

My Gran made it quite clear. "You are the cruel one."

I hastily turned to face her, with all the agony and confusion I felt clearly on my face and I finally asked her, "Why?"

I was asking why Gran had been upset, why was Bella crying before I'd even spoken a word... Why had I been so angry?

Gran ended up answering only the first of my internal mental barrage of questions.

She shook her head sadly. "Because I wasn't crying over something Bella had said or done wrong. I wasn't crying over old memories or lost yesteryear's." She sighed deeply. "I was crying because I will miss her."

I was starting to feel sick. What had I done? With true horror in my voice I told Gran something I had been denying since the moment I'd seen her beautiful face and heard her breathtaking voice almost two months previous for the first time. Several moments ago might have become my last...

"I'm in love with her…" I whispered. It hit me like lightning from heaven.

I knew now why I'd been angry.

I was angry she would be leaving soon to go…

Away from me.

"Yep. You sure are, boy." She gave me that steady, Masen stare. "And you couldn't have screwed things up any worse." She gently touched my arm.

"Listen to me, Edward. I know you've been trying desperately to protect yourself, trying not to have feelings for someone you think you may never have the chance to be with. But you must go after her! What you said…"

She shook her head again, closing her eyes as she told me the next, horribly agonizing part. "She lost her mother before the age of five and her last grandparent shortly thereafter. And… She's a widow. She lost her husband after only three years of marriage. To cancer, of all things."

Heartless. Cruel. Unfeeling… Monster. I couldn't come up with enough adjectives to describe myself.

Then I thought of what my mother would think of my behavior. In my mind's eye, I could also see my father's disapproving stare. If my sister had been a witness to my shame, she would have simply cried.

I had to find her. Try to… What? Apologize? I could attempt to beg her for forgiveness.

Yes, I could find it in my heart to do that quite easily.

Tell her you love her. Could I tell her that? Yes. Would she listen? Would she care? My chest grew tight…

I turned away from my grandmother and headed straight out the doors running at top speed. I heard Gran shout after me: "She's probably by the old cemetery!" That would be the first place I would look for her.

~~:::~~