Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.
Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy
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Dodge and Burn / Chapter Twenty / The Neighborhood
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Edward paces back and forth under the colored flags strung across his loft. He doesn't know exactly what to say to Isabella, he just knows he needs to see her. His talk with Rose has given him a lot to consider. Despite the disappointment and anger he's harbored since their fight, as the days have passed he's missed Bella more, instead of less. Somehow, some way, he needs to have her in his life again.
Can they figure out a way to agree to disagree about such a huge issue? Can he live with the uncertainty that compromise would present?
He opens up a bottle of water and takes a swig as he mulls over what his next step should be. A moment later, his phone rings.
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"Yes?"
"Edward," says Sean. "I got your message. What's up?"
"Hey, Sean, it looks like I may be going to Italy after all, so we need to reschedule the walk-thru I was going to give you guys of the center."
"Okay," Sean replies.
"It's looking really good by the way," Edward adds.
"I'm glad to hear it. No problem with rescheduling. That's great you're going to Italy."
"Yeah, I'm really trying to work this out. You know I could show you and Julia the space tomorrow late morning since I don't leave until the next day. Does that work for you two?"
"I'm not sure. I told Julia that I'd help her play music tomorrow at her great Uncle Will's place. It's one of those assisted living facilities. Let me check with her about the timing."
His comment sparks an idea in Edward's head. "Is that like an old people's home?"
"Yeah. I've been there before. It's pretty nice actually once you get past the idea that it's full of people waiting to die."
"Do you happen to know if they have people with Alzheimer's there?"
"Yeah, we played in that part of the building once. It's sectioned off and it's got locks and alarms on the doors. I guess those people are known to wander off and stuff."
Locks and alarms? Edward feels a wave of anxiety. "Really?" he asks.
"Yeah," confirms Sean. "That was a tough scene…really sad. Most of those people seemed so gone, like they didn't even know where they were."
Edward shuts his eyes and tries to push the pictures out of his head, but he knows he has to fight his resistance. He has to face his worst fears.
"Hey, Sean, can I go with you guys tomorrow?"
"Really? Are you checking out places for a relative or something? Cause Julia says that as far as they go, this one's pretty nice, but it's crazy expensive. Will is burning through his money fast living there."
He swallows hard. "That's okay if it's expensive. Yeah, I'm just checking things out for someone."
"I'm sure it'll be fine if you come. I'll confirm the time we're meeting and email the address," Sean says.
Edward takes a deep breath. "Thanks."
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..~*~..
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That evening, he picks up his phone to call Isabella at least ten times before setting it back down, frustrated. He knows he needs to be prepared before he talks to her again, and he can't get past the concern that he's going to mess things up and make them worse.
He pulls open his patio door, grabs his guitar, and settles into the chair. As he looks out at the scattered lights dotting his hillside view he softly strums. He remembers the first time he played for Isabella and the way she danced across her yard. He likes to imagine now that she was dancing for him, so that with each swing of her hips, each swirl of her skirt, she was pulling him in.
Despite their fight and separation, his passion for her still owns him. It's bigger than anything he's ever felt in his life. His feelings pour out in the music, his hand clutching the neck of his guitar as he adeptly fingers the chords.
He sings the lyrics he's already written for her, and then works out others as he plays, stopping periodically to make notes on the pad on the nearby table.
As he plays, he imagines her in his arms, the way it makes him feel more alive, more hopeful about everything. He misses that feeling and knows he's empty without it.
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Later that night before he surrenders to sleep, he also imagines her with him in his bed. The feel of her lips pressing against his neck as he eases into her, the way her legs slowly wrap around his.
Isabella.
Every thing about her intoxicates him. He loves her low moans when he pushes deep. He recalls a moment once where he suddenly looked down at her, worried from his force. She gazed at him with hooded eyes full of fire. Her cheeks flushed as she gave him the most delicious smile and whispered…
Give me more. Come on my love, you could never hurt me like this.
Now, he wonders. He wishes he had been more tender the night of their big fight.
He remembers the desperate way they made love last, and he's filled with shame. That night of all nights, he should have made slow, sweet love to her…carried her into her bed and showed her what was in his heart. Instead, he crawled over her on the couch and took her powerfully. He needed assurances to know that she wouldn't leave him, but he wishes he could have been a stronger man.
His self-loathing from his volatile behavior that night is hard to swallow as he closes his eyes. But when the tide pulls him down, he thinks of Isabella and her loving smile, and he surfaces, again and again.
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..~*~..
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As Edward approaches the front entrance to Belmont Village the next morning, he notices the chairs lined up on the patio are filled with old people. A couple of them are talking, one is reading the paper, but the one on the end, a silver-haired woman with twisted arthritic hands, smiles sweetly at him.
He nods his head and smiles back, wondering what they're all waiting for. Then it hits him—this is what they do. They wait for dinner, for bed, for breakfast, for the visit from their kids. They wait, hoping that when their time is up, they will close their eyes and quietly leave this world, and their waiting will finally be done.
Years from now, will he be the one out here waiting? Will Isabella be locked up inside? The very idea of it makes him incredibly sad.
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At the front desk, the receptionist directs him towards the main room where Sean and Julia are setting up.
Sean looks up and nudges Julia just as he approaches.
"Look, Julia, Edward's here."
"Hey guys," Edward says. "Thanks for letting me tag along."
"No problem," Julia responds. "And if I can share any information about this place, Edward, just let me know."
"Thanks," Edward says as he looks at their set up. "What kind of stuff do you play here anyway?"
"Mainly old classics. It's what they like. My great uncle, Will, was the person who exposed me to music when I was young, so this really means a lot to him when we perform here."
"She's like a celebrity here. All the old men flirt with her," Sean teases. "We've heard her uncle brags about her shamelessly at dinner."
Edward grins. "Is that so?"
"Yeah," Julia admits. "He's such a big teddy bear. Look at him sitting over there surrounded by women. He's a catch in this place, you know."
"I can imagine," Edward says, smiling as he watches Will chat up the silver-haired beauty next to him.
"See, check it out," Sean says, turning to wave his arm behind them. "We already almost have a full house."
Edward turns to see almost every free chair full and caregivers pushing wheelchairs into the room to get a place.
"Well, I better go get a seat while I still can," Edward says, smiling. "Can I do anything to help first?"
"Nah, we got it covered. Thanks," Sean says.
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Edward finds a free seat along the back wall next to a hunched over old man holding the hand of a withered-looking woman parked in a wheelchair next to him. Edward notes that she looks disoriented, but the man seems very alert and he turns to study Edward.
"I don't think I've seen you here before, young man. Have I?" he asks Edward, his shaggy eyebrows knit together.
"No, I've never been here before. I'm friends with the musicians and I wanted to check out this place."
"I see," replies the man. "Well, my name is Andrew, and this is my wife, Gracie." Edward turns toward Gracie, but she doesn't even glance at him. She looks lost in her own world. "She doesn't talk anymore," Andrew states matter-of-factly.
"Nice to meet you, Andrew. I'm Edward. Have you lived here long?"
"Oh, I don't live here. Gracie's in the 'Neighborhood' here. I just come and stay with her during the day."
"Every day?" Edward asks, surprised. The old man looks frail to take on such a schedule.
"Yes, unless I'm sick or something. Gracie took care of me and our kids for all those years. The least I can do is take care of her." He pats his hand over hers and looks at her lovingly. "She needs me."
Edward nods and starts to ask him something else, but the music starts up and so they turn forward.
Sean and Julia play a medley of 1940's songs-everything from The Andrew Sisters to Bing Crosby to the Jimmy Dorsey orchestra. The caregivers pass out lyric books printed in large size type so people can sing along. The residents look happy as they listen, tapping their feet and bobbing their head to the music.
Edward watches Julia work the crowd. Taking the hands of the old ladies and flirting with the old men, she's charming them, bringing back happy memories of better days. He imagines that it's probably the best time they've had all week. He notices how Julia makes sure and spends extra time with Uncle Will, who grins from ear to ear.
Four or five songs in, Edward notices that Gracie is starting to move her arms in a waving motion. Andrew's smiling happily. "She loves this music," he says quietly to Edward, leaning in close.
It's all good until the next song, a Glenn Miller piece, where Gracie starts grunting to the music. As Julia hits the chorus, Gracie's making quite a racket. Embarrassed, Andrew looks for a caregiver to help him move Gracie back to the neighborhood.
"Can I do something for you?" Edward asks, when he realizes Andrew isn't getting assistance and is growing very frustrated.
"I just need help with the wheelchair," he says anxiously. "She's only going to get louder, but I can't do this alone. I'm not strong enough anymore."
"Let me help you," Edward offers.
"You don't mind?" Andrew asks, looking grateful.
"No, not at all. Just tell me where to go."
Edward looks over at Sean, who nods with understanding as he sees Edward head out of the room pushing the wheelchair, Andrew hobbling along side him.
Once they get into the hallway Andrew sighs. "They say it's fine if I bring Gracie out to hear the music with the regular folks, as long as I take her out if she gets too loud. Today was one of those days."
"I'm sorry," Edward says sadly.
"Oh, I get why it's not good. It makes people really uncomfortable. If she understood what was happening, she'd stop. Gracie wouldn't want to upset anyone," he replies.
When they get to the locked door, Andrew carefully uses the keypad to deactivate the alarm so they can go inside. Once in the main hall, he points to a big table in the center of the room.
"If you can just push her over to the table, Edward, I'd really appreciate it. Then I'll let you out the door again."
"Would you mind if I stay for a few minutes?" Edward asks.
"Sure, be my guest," Andrew answers. They approach the table and Andrew points to the two empty chairs next to Gracie. Edward pulls them out and once Andrew sits down, Edward joins him.
He looks up to see one of the workers at the head of the table. The middle-aged woman with the kind face nods at Edward.
"Hello," she says, smiling widely as she catches a balloon floating towards her.
"Hi," Edward responds.
"So, Andrew, is this handsome guy your son?" she asks.
He chuckles. "No, Estelle, he's a friend."
"Well, welcome," she says before she turns back to the group. "Okay everyone, let's continue with balloon time."
She holds up the large green balloon and gently hits it towards one of the more alert looking residents. The woman swats the balloon when it approaches her and it flies to the opposite side of the table where it hits another woman, with closely cropped white hair and thick glasses, right in the face. She doesn't even blink. The balloon rolls off to the side and the old man next to her picks it up and wraps his arms around it.
"Okay, Charlie. Can you hit the balloon to Betty?" Estelle urges.
He clings to the balloon, refusing to let go of it.
"Come on, Charlie! Let's keep the game going? Hit it, please."
He bends over the balloon like he's protecting it. Noticing the issue, a second caregiver approaches and distracts Charlie with a small red ball long enough for the lead woman to pull the green balloon out of his lap.
"Okay, I think we're done with balloon time," she announces in a tired voice before glancing at her watch. "Let's start coloring a little early today."
She lays out baskets of thick crayons and then walks around, placing what looks like Xerox copies of coloring book pages in front of everyone. The two old women next to Edward start in right away and are careful to color within the lines. Some of the others either sit silently and unmoving in their chairs, or some color haphazardly with no regard to being inside the lines at all.
As Edward watches everything, he can't get past the idea that no one seems offended that much like the balloon pass, this is a preschool activity. Adults seemingly in their seventies and eighties are being treated like babies. He can't even imagine their humiliation. Yet as he studies their faces one by one, he doesn't see any discomfort, just determination to complete their task. What kind of alternate universe is this?
He leans forward and watches Andrew coax Gracie. His hand's resting over hers as he slowly guides the crayon over the paper. "See, Gracie," he says softly. "The dog is brown just like our Daisy was."
Edward feels like his heart's going to shatter. It's almost more than he can take.
Andrew looks up and notices Edward watching them. "She used to love to color. She'd fill every space, but now…well, I have to help her."
Edward nods as Andrew focuses back on the coloring, speaking softly to Gracie as they work. When they get a few areas roughly filled in, he leans back to rest and drops his hands on his lap.
He sighs. "Some days she's better than others. Yesterday I could've sworn she recognized me."
"I bet she did," Edward says encouragingly. He'd say anything to ease this man's suffering and heartbreak. "How long has she lived here, Andrew?"
"Almost two years," Andrew answers sadly. "I hated to leave her here. I took care of her at home as long as I could, but the kids finally stepped in. They said it was killing me."
"Oh no," Edward says. "That's no good, Andrew. You've got to take care of yourself or you're no good for Gracie."
"That's what the kids say," Andrew replies, as he rubs the top of Gracie's hand. "They said she's only going to get worse, and they were right about that. She hasn't said anything that makes sense in months. She hardly talks at all anymore and she was such a chatterbox before." He leans over and kisses her cheek, then runs his hand over her head.
"Did any of the medicines help her?" Edward asks.
"Nah, not really. But I'm never giving up on my girl."
Edward silently studies them, the devotion in Andrew's eyes and the absence of spirit in Gracie's. He suddenly feels like he can't breathe. He needs to get away from all of this.
He reaches over and rests his hand on Andrew's shoulder. "I've got to go meet my friends, Andrew. But I want to thank you for letting me hang out with you and Gracie for a while."
As they shake hands, Andrew gives him a sad smile. "No, thank you, young man. I enjoyed the company. It gets really lonely here sometimes."
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One of the caregivers lets Edward out the door, and he numbly walks down the hall towards the main room where he finds Sean and Julia tearing down their equipment.
"I thought we were gonna have to send out a search," Sean teases when he sees him.
"Yeah, sorry about that. That old man that I was sitting next to, his name's Andrew…we started talking."
"Did you get to see what you wanted to?" asks Julia. "'cause we're almost done here, I can show you around if you want."
"No, I saw all I needed to. Thanks though. I learned a lot from just being here."
Sean looks at his friend and can tell something's gotten to Edward, but he decides to leave it alone. They've already agreed to have beers after his trip, they can talk about it then if Edward needs someone to lend an ear.
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A short while later, when Edward pulls his stool toward the bar, it occurs to him that he's been so deep in thought that he doesn't even remember driving to Jasper and Alice's place. Jasper flips the top off the Guinness and slides it to Edward without even asking what he wants.
"What happened to you, man?" Jasper asks, shaking his head. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Edward takes a long swig and then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "I did. I saw a bunch of ghosts and it scared the hell out of me." He drops his head into his hand, defeated. "You know what. Can you get me a shot of Jameson?"
"Okay, then," Jasper says, watching Edward carefully as he pulls a clean shot glass off the stack and fills it.
Edward kicks back the shot and Jasper pours him another with a look of concern on his face.
"It must've been bad, dude. You gonna tell me where you saw these ghosts?"
"At one of those old people's homes over on Highland Avenue," Edward says before cooling the burn in his throat with more beer.
"Really? Anyone you know? What were you doing there?"
"I was seeing my potential future, Jasper, and it was pretty hard to take."
"Not good, huh?" Jasper asks, leaning against the bar with his arms folded.
"No, matter of fact it gutted me." His frustration is stirring up a fury inside of him. Edward clenches his fists and presses them into the rough wood surface of the bar. He'd like to punch a wide hole through it.
"Sorry to hear that, man," Jasper says. "I always liked that song, The Future's So Bright I Gotta Wear Shades. Maybe that won't be your theme song. Am I right?"
"No, it won't. Not if things go a certain way," Edward agrees. He's ready for his second beer even though he's had too much too fast already. He just wants to be as numb as possible, as quickly as possible.
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An hour later, he's mumbling to Jasper about flying to Italy.
"But I thought you guys broke up," Jasper asks, confused.
"We did," Edward agrees. "I'm going to convince her to take me back."
"You're going to do this on an airplane?" Jasper sounds like he thinks it's a dubious plan. "Hey, wait a minute. I thought you broke up with her?"
"Semantics," Edward grumbles. "Hey, my buzz is almost completely worn off. Give me another."
"Nope. You're done. Especially if you're flying tomorrow."
He pours Edward a tall glass of water. "Here, drink this. You're going to need your wits about you to win Bella back."
"You know what, Jasper?"
"What?"
"Maybe I just need my own bottle of pills. Yeah, that's it. I can put it next to hers, so if she goes so do I."
Jasper looks angry. "What in the fuck are you talking about?"
Edward waves his hand sloppily. "Never mind. I didn't mean it."
"You better not have meant it, man. That shit isn't funny. You know I had a friend who killed himself."
Edward sits up, suddenly feeling completely sober. He realizes he needs to watch what he says before he hurts people he cares about. Isn't that how he got into this mess in the first place?
"I'm really sorry, Jasper. I didn't mean it, I swear. Damn, I'm a mess. Today really did a number on me."
Jasper looks at him and lets out a long sigh. "Okay, Edward. Sure."
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..~*~..
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Bella nervously packs, determined not to forget anything. She remembers getting to San Francisco once without a single pair of panties. It may be harder in Lucca, Italy to just run out and buy more of whatever she's forgotten.
She decides to pack Jacob's photo album in her carry-on in case the luggage gets lost. The album is by far the most precious thing she's taking.
She wonders about Leo. Will he be glad to see her? How will it feel to see him after all this time? Will she see Jacob in his face, his mannerisms?
Her memory of him is a mirage now, shimmering in the far reaches of her mind. She's not even sure her idea of him exists anywhere but in her imagination.
Her head spins with a myriad of possibilities, making her feel scattered. If only Edward were coming, too. He'd have grounded her, helping her summon her courage. He also would've comforted her if the news about Jacob didn't go over well.
She lets out a long sigh as she walks over to her bedside table and picks up the framed picture of Edward.
"I wish you were coming with me, Mr. C," she says softly as she runs her fingers over the frame.
She studies his picture for a minute, remembering the night she photographed him. It was the night they finally admitted their love for each other…a moment she will never forget.
She steps forward to set the picture back, but then pauses and turns back to her suitcase. With a smile on her face, she carefully undoes the long zipper and lifts the lid, searching for the softest spot of clothes she can bury his picture in. She wraps and nestles it carefully, then lowers the cover to zip it shut again.
"See there, Mr. C," she whispers as she pats the suitcase. "You're coming with me after all."
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..~*~..
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Bella's heart pounds as she makes her way through the airport, the bustle of people a blur swirling around her. The morning was melancholy knowing she was taking this trip without Edward, but she gave herself a pep talk and by the time the shuttle service picked her up, she was feeling upbeat again. Her shuttle driver going on about how amazing Italy is amped her up even more.
By the time she gets to the airport, she wants to share her excitement with strangers. She notices a friendly-faced man in a Hawaiian shirt and wants to tell him about her trip-her greatest adventure of all. She's never felt so alive.
When she approaches the female guard in the security line, she grins as she hands over her passport and ticket.
"I'm going to Italy! Can you believe it?"
The serious looking woman arches her brows at Bella. "Well, I better believe it since that's what it says on your ticket."
"I can hardly wait," Bella says happily. She gives the guard a smile and heads over to the scanning area.
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It barely seems like Bella has time to buy some gum and photography magazines at the newsstand when it's time to board the plane. She gets to leisurely stroll aboard with the fancy people since Edward had purchased business class tickets.
Wow! she thinks as she settles into her oversized leather seat.
After boarding's almost complete, the steward reminds everyone over the loudspeaker to store their carry-ons, and check their seatbelts in preparation for takeoff. Bella glances at her watch and wonders if the airline wasn't able to resell Edward's ticket. The sight of the empty seat makes her sad, but she reminds herself that someone interesting could still show up and keep her company for the long flight.
She stretches out her legs and looks up to see if she can give her now-empty plastic champagne cup to someone when she notices a flurry of activity several rows ahead. A tall man is trying to help a very friendly flight attendant with a bulky case he didn't check into luggage. He's lucky he's in business class, Bella thinks. They sure wouldn't have room for that in economy.
As he steps sideways, she sees it's a guitar case and her heart flutters when she looks up.
Oh my God…it's Edward.
She freezes, blinking nervously as he points something out to the flustered blonde and helps her shift the case so that it fits wherever they are trying to force it.
Satisfied, he slaps his hands together as she presses the compartment door closed. The stewardess flashes him a big smile, but Bella realizes he's too distracted to notice.
Just as he looks at his ticket and starts down the aisle, Bella turns towards the window and smiles.
Look at the lovely view, she thinks, her heart pounding.
She's not sure if she's even breathing when he approaches their aisle. There's a moment of dead silence as she waits for him to say something. Her attention remains fixed on the view as she smiles.
He came. He's here.
He clears his throat. "Excuse me, Miss, is this seat free?"
Remaining completely composed, she turns and looks at him. She can't help but notice that he looks tired and thinner, his eyes sad yet hopeful.
"Well sir," she starts after a long pause. "I was actually holding that seat for my boyfriend who was supposed to accompany me to Italy."
Edward studies her trying to figure out if she's glad at all that's he's joining her.
"I see," Edward answers. "And why isn't he here?"
"Well, I have faith in him. He still may show up."
"Really?"
"Yes, he's been working some stuff out, but he told me once that he loved me and that he wouldn't break my heart."
For a moment Edward is rendered speechless as his fingers dig into the headrest of his seat.
"So I'm afraid I can't let you sit there. He may still show up," Bella explains politely.
Edward clears his throat nervously and looks up at the seat number before looking back at Bella. "You know, miss, I've made a lot of mistakes in my life. I've said some stupid things, let a woman I cared about down..."
"Yes?" she asks.
"But what if I could be that man, the one you're waiting for?"
"How could I know without a doubt? I mean you look quite a bit like him, but otherwise I'm just not sure."
"Well, maybe if you give me a chance to explain, I could prove it to you."
"Really?"
He leans over her and speaks softly. "Please, Isabella. Please give me a chance. At the very least, we need to talk and come to some kind of peace."
Just then the flight attendant comes by and indicates that he needs to sit down and buckle up for take off.
"Please, Isabella?" he implores.
She gives him a long look that stuns him to his core. He sees the hurt, he sees her vulnerability, yet steadfast determination not to be crushed again.
She nods. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt for you to sit and we'll see if that man, the one who loved and adored me, is you."
"Do you want him to be? Do you want that man to take this trip with you?"
She turns back to the view and lets out a sigh.
"Desperately," she answers honestly. "I was so excited to go to Italy with him. Besides the task at hand, there were so many experiences I wanted to share just with him."
She shakes her head sadly. "And since our fight, there've been times I wasn't sure I could get through it without him. I must tell you though…I'm strong."
Yes, you are, by God. He nods as their eyes meet and come to some kind of understanding.
"Yes, I know you are," he says as he waits for her to give him a sign.
She tilts her head, indicating he should sit, so he slides his backpack under the seat in front of him and settles into the seat. He leans back into the cushion and closes his eyes while shaking his head.
"I can't believe I'm here," he says to himself.
She laughs softly and his eyes snap open as he turns to look at her.
"Something funny?" As curious as he is, it is wonderful to see his Isabella smile again. His hopeful heart warms a bit.
"I think you're very brave. And you thought I was the dramatic one," she says, the corners of her mouth turned up just a bit.
He smiles softly, too. "That was pretty dramatic, wasn't it? You know Rose suggested it."
"Rose suggested you surprise me on the plane?" Bella asks, amazed.
"Yeah, well after I told her I was pretty sure you wouldn't want to see me yesterday. So she pointed out that if I showed up for the flight, you wouldn't be able to avoid talking to me."
She looks up to see the crew shutting the plane's door and notifying the cockpit. She thinks about Edward getting coached by Rose.
"I'm not sure that was a good plan. I could decide not to talk to you here just as easily."
"True, but and then this will be an excruciating, long-ass flight for both of us." He reaches into the front seat pocket for the in-flight magazine. "In that case, I hope they have a good movie selection."
"No, I'm just saying that although I was a bit distracted yesterday with packing and making arrangements, I would've talked to you, Edward. I have things to apologize for as well."
He slides the magazine back in the pocket. "Really?"
"Yes, really."
Edward realizes the plane is moving and he looks out the window.
"We're taking off," he says softly, looking at her.
"There's no going back now," she says.
"Nope." And he realizes how glad he is of that fact.
A minute later, the flight attendant starts her safety demonstration and Bella and Edward turn their focus forward. It's all a jumble to Bella, air masks and life vests. How can she think of such things when Edward is sitting next to her?
Suddenly she has the sense that he's studying her. She tries to refocus, but she feels his finger tip start to gently circle its way up her forearm. She quietly gasps at the sensation of it. He must know what he's doing to her. He's not playing fair, stirring her up like this.
When she turns to look at him, he leans forward to whisper in her ear.
"Are you glad I came, Isabella?"
She closes her eyes and pauses, before slowly nodding.
"But…" she says, forcing herself to pull her arm away.
"I know, I know," he says with a sigh. "We need to talk about it all. I understand that. But I just need you to know…"
"Yes?" she asks, fighting to stay calm.
"I just need you to know that I missed you, baby. I missed you so much."
She looks at him and sees every bit of regret in his eyes. She can't help but soften.
"I've missed you, too," she says. "But here you are."
"Yes," he agrees. "Here I am."
.
.
And we're off to Italy...will you be joining us? I'd love to hear from you...
xoxo
abbie
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