Welcome to my house. Come freely. Go safely; and leave something of the happiness you bring
Dracula, Bram Stoker
Chapter 16 - Walls of Green
I left the flat before Rose came out of her room. Last night had been a whirl wind; a few days of cooling down time before our next conversation would be good for both of us.
As I walked, I quickly fired off a text message to Emmett, letting him know I'd be at his building around 8:30. I stopped to pick up cappuccino and the newspaper. He was helping me out. It was the least I could do.
At 8:30 on the dot, Emmett stood outside his building, an umbrella sheltering him from a steady drizzle. He was dressed for work; jacket, white shirt, tie. He was perfectly put together, although the dark circles under his eyes gave an edge to his All American good looks.
He gave me a halfhearted smile and a one armed hug before leading me through his building to the garage.
"Gas mileage sucks, but there is a GPS built in that can help you avoid any traffic snags."
"Thank you, Emmett. I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate this." I hesitated as Rose's words about my using Emmett as a crutch flitted through my mind.
"Look, Emmett, you have been such a great friend; I want you to know how much I appreciate it. I feel like I should have done more to acknowledge it than I have."
He waved me off, "It's not any different that what you've done for me, Bella. It's what friends do."
"I don't feel like I've been a very good friend to you, Emmett." I couldn't make eye contact when I said it. I hated to think that I had let him down or taken advantage of him in any way.
He laughed and poked my shoulder. "Actually you've been the best. I don't know what I'd have done without you."
"I don't know; maybe not get involved with Rose," I teased, trying to keep the conversation light.
The smile never quite reached his eyes. "No, I think that still would have happened. You just helped me not get pulled under in her wake."
Emmett opened the door of a blue German sedan. "You sure you're okay to drive this?"
"I think that's more a question for you."
"Bella, you'll be fine. Go take some time for yourself. Getting away will be good for you."
Go take some time for myself. I'd never done that before. I had never really thought about the fact that I was always surrounded by people, at school, at home. Very rarely was I ever by myself. And here I was, taking a trip on my own, doing something just for me.
It was scary, but at the same time, it was a bit exciting.
Giving Emmet a quick hug, I climbed in the car. "That it will, Em, thanks. I'll see you later this week."
He held on to the door for a minute, as if struggling to put a thought into words. "That day at the tower? I wish that we would have pushed, tried a little harder, you know? Maybe we gave in to them a little too easily."
Emmett was facing the same thing I was, and was trying to figure it out in his own way.
I'm not sure what prompted me to do it, but I jumped out of the car and threw my arms around Emmett's neck. I wanted to let him know that I was in the same place, and that even thought we didn't push it, he would always be special to me.
He surprised me though. Instead of reciprocating my hug, he scooped me up and kissed me. Unlike the first time, there was no slow build. It was desperate and bruising and filled with need. But the desire couldn't be forced. Kind of like an airplane ticket, it was non transferable.
Maybe we were both clutching at one last hope that there was something more than just a friendship, or that there could be someone else out there for either of us. And
while the kiss was amazing, it wasn't the same. It was warm, and it felt comfortable. But the high, the intensity, wasn't there. Our connections existed with others. I had come to that realization last night. Emmett was still struggling to get there.
He prolonged the kiss, almost as if hoping to tempt fate. Trying to force something that neither of us could feel. A spark or connection to each other; knowledge that the one that we wanted desired us in return.
He set me back down on the pavement gently and gave me a quick kiss on the forehead.
"I hope that someday I can prove myself wrong. Maybe if I can get her out of my head…and you do the same…"
It would have been easy to try and hide away with Emmett, to try and lose myself in a wonderful man, who if things had played out just a bit differently could have been 'the one.' But following that path wouldn't solve anything. And it wasn't worth risking a wonderful friendship.
"You and I both know it doesn't work that way, Em. I need to see through whatever I have with Edward. Assuming he still wants me. You and Rose aren't any different."
"He'd be a fool not to." His lack of acknowledgement of Rose didn't go unnoticed, but I didn't push. He didn't need that right now.
"I'm not so sure about that, Em. I've done a good job of pushing him away while trying to figure my shit out. And he might have come his own realizations too."
I stood up on tiptoe and gave Emmett a quick peck on the cheek. "Know that I love you, Em. No matter what."
With that, I climbed in the car and adjusted the seat before turning the key. As I pulled out, I glanced in the rear view mirror. Emmett stood in the garage; hands stuffed in his pants, shoulders slumped.
He looked like a broken man.
I knew the expression well. And my heart broke a little bit knowing that there was nothing I could do to make it better. But in this situation, it wasn't about me; he and Rose had to figure it out together, just like Edward and I did.
Maybe that's what they were doing when I came home last night.
I stopped at the flat long enough to grab my backpack and overnight bag, and was on the road to Whitby by 9:30. I put my iPod on shuffle and I lost myself in thought as I drove.
I couldn't get Emmett's comment out of my head. We'd both been struggling with attractions that ran counter intuitive to logic. I couldn't stop thinking about what Alice had said about not being able to control how we felt. As much as I wanted to scoff at the concept, so much of what I read made sense. The good and the bad.
Great. Next thing, I'd believe in the Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy, and Santa Claus.
It felt ridiculous to even consider. How do you know that you are meant to be with someone, can't exist without them, when you hardly knew them?
I didn't know Edward Masen. I had glimpses, but I didn't know how real those glimpses were. Alice insisted that he felt this same indescribable pull, but how could I ever feel confident in that? Logic wanted to make it into an infatuation, purely chemical. But that felt so trite, so trivial.
Rose had accused me of being a drama queen, of not giving Edward the opportunity to explain. While I knew that she was right in her observation, I was doing it for self preservation. Deep down I knew that if I let him explain, I'd take it at face value because I wanted so desperately to be with him. I'd take any explanation he gave willingly. Even if it wasn't the right one.
And I knew that the minute I allowed that he would have absolute power over me. And I would be lost.
I hadn't realized until I said it to Alice last night. My greatest fear was losing myself. That I would willingly give up everything to be what he needed me to be. Maybe there was something to that. I've always happily molded myself to what others wanted, never what I needed. I had no clue how to balance being myself and being with someone else.
It would be too easy to get caught up in a pity party. The old Bella would have. I would have wallowed and moaned and not done anything about it.
But the pain in Emmett's eyes this morning helped me shape my own resolve. I couldn't settle for second best. I needed things to be on the same terms. Edward was my first choice. He always would be. But I wouldn't settle for being second. We had to be equal to be whole.
Assuming he still wanted me. He told me once he wouldn't be a forgone conclusion.
He was right. And he didn't deserve to be.
When I got back to London, we would talk. I'd listen to his side of the story. I'd tell him how he made me feel. And then we would figure out what came next, if there was a next, with no more secrets or running away. Whitby would give me a chance to sort through everything and put it all to rest. No more Mike. No more regrets. No more living in the past. It was time to work on moving forward.
I pushed the thoughts away, and focused on the drive, the music, anything to help me escape for a while. I managed to relax, enjoying the time alone. I actually started singing as I navigated through the North Yorkshire moors. I don't think I'll ever see anything as beautiful again as long as I live..
Around four, I made the turn onto a long winding lane. Sandstone columns marked the entry to a large gravel courtyard. The Hall itself loomed large from the road, yellow sandstone and a profusion of green and pink fauna.
I parked the car and made my way to the front door. It flew open before I could knock or look for a bell.
"You must be Bella! I can always pick out a fellow American by the clothing!"
A lovely woman stood smiling in the doorway. She appeared to be in her mid thirties, very much the definition of 'little miss all American' with light brown hair, a button nose and a big smile. "Come on in, you have to be exhausted after that drive!"
As we made our way through the manor, I couldn't call a building this size a house, she introduced herself as Esme Cullen.
"I was so excited when Alice called and mentioned that she had an American friend who needed help. I love England, but sometimes I miss the states. It will be so nice to have you around for a few days."
While Esme didn't have quite the energy that Alice did, she made up for it in enthusiasm. She went on about the renovations they had just completed, the local points of interest, and all the things that I would want to do.
I dropped my bag and backpack in my room as Esme explained all the amenities. The four poster bed, the fireplace, the attached bathroom. The suite was quite overwhelming, and more appropriate for a honeymoon or weekend away.
The optimist in me hoped for another time, a better reason.
"Come, you must be famished. I just put out an afternoon snack in the library."
Esme continued to talk as she led me down the hallway.
"Carlisle was surprised when he heard that Alice called. He is very close to Edward, and had heard mention from him of an American working with Jasper on her dissertation about Dracula. We both would have expected the call to come from him, not from Alice."
We crossed the main hallway into a beautiful cherry paneled room filled with wing back chairs and a large leather sofa. A man with hair so fair it was almost white sat in a chair by the fireplace, book in hand.
"Alice and I bumped into each other last night. We were discussing when I was planning to visit Whitby, and she mentioned it on a whim. I was actually standing with her when she called you."
Esme took my hand and led me forward into the room. "Carlisle, Alice's American friend is here."
"Bella Swan, this is my very proper British husband, Carlisle." She said playfully. The smile on her face made it clear that she adored himi.
The man stood and turned to acknowledge me. The moment he registered my face, he lost what little color there was in his fair skin.
"It's nice to meet you," I responded, filling the silence in an attempt to be polite. "Alice mentioned that she and her brother grew up with you."
Carlisle's eyes narrowed for a moment. "You are friends with Alice?"
I nodded, not knowing how else to respond.
"And Edward too?"
I nodded again, this time not able to meet his eyes. I am sure that the furious blush gave away the fact that it was more than a passing acquaintance.
"Well, this is interesting." He walked towards table laid with decanters and bottles. "I think I could use a drink. Would you care for a scotch, Bella?"
He poured two glasses of amber liquid and returned to his chair, nodding to the one opposite him. I sat down and took the crystal tumbler.
A phone rang from another room, giving Esme the opportunity to excuse herself, claiming there were things that she needed to deal with. She promised to return in a bit.
I felt the need to address the elephant in the room so that I could maintain control of the conversation, "I'm guessing from your reaction that you notice my resemblance…"
"So you know about Maggie?" Carlisle did not look at me as he asked the question, choosing instead to stare into his glass.
"Yes." What could I say? It wouldn't be easy to elaborate on how. Simple acknowledgement was probably the best.
"I know Alice and Edward because of her. She was my cousin. Her parents moved here to be closer to my family." He hesitated, taking a drink of his Scotch. "I think it was always uncomfortable for them here."
I sat quietly, slowly sipping from the glass of scotch. I hated the taste, but I felt it only polite. Besides, it gave me a distraction while I waited for Carlisle to continue.
He paused again, his mouth twisting into a wry smile. "I was off at University and then Medical School for their teenage years. I would like to have thought I could have helped out, maybe convinced them to seek treatment. Naïve, but such are the romantic ideals of the young."
I wasn't sure that I wanted to hear this. Maggie the good, Maggie the pure. It was hard enough to look just like her, but did she have to be so perfect? It made every fault or bad decision of mine stand out all that much more.
"I got a phone call a few weeks ago. Apparently Edward is giving up tilting at windmills, and is considering going into practice. He made a comment about putting all of his knowledge to use for once, to finally start doing some good things in his life. At the time, I couldn't fathom what would make him give up on research. But now…" He trailed off. I was unsure if it was an invitation to speak, or if he needed a moment to collect his thoughts.
It was clear that he was having a difficult time with this. While I was thankful to Alice for arranging somewhere for me to stay, I couldn't put this poor man through the wringer. It was totally selfish.
"Carlisle, I very much appreciate your willingness to talk about something unpleasant. If it's uncomfortable for you to have me here, I absolutely understand. If you can recommend a few places in the village, I'll make arrangements to stay somewhere else. I was concerned about being an inconvenience, but this is obviously more than an just an inconvenience, and I don't want to cause you any pain."
He waved me off before standing to pour another glass of scotch. "It was a long time ago, Bella. Esme and I are more than happy to have you here. I think she's excited to have a fellow Yank around."
Esme re-entered the library, and they shared a brief silent exchanged that I could not interpret.
"Bella, we have something going on in the village tonight that I forgot about. Can I ask you to make yourself at home? The grounds are yours to explore, and the library is at your disposal. I do sincerely apologize." Esme was absolutely apologetic, her hands clasped in front of her in apprehension.
"Please, Esme. You have been kind enough to put me up at your inconvenience; it's no problem at all. I'll have more than plenty to keep me entertained."
I excused myself, and returned to my room. It only took me a few minutes to unpack, and I quickly found myself at odds with what to do. I didn't feel like watching TV or, surprisingly enough, reading. I glanced out the window to see that it was still light out. The flowers had just started to come out, maybe a walk around the grounds would help me unwind from my drive and kill some time. If not, I had a feeling I'd be buying Carlisle Cullen a bottle of something before I left.
I made my way down the stairs and out through the kitchen. A large English garden, replete with a boxwood maze had been visible from my room. The idea of traipsing through hedges six feet tall was like a dream come true. I half wished I had packed something other than jeans, which didn't do much to evoke the feeling ofPride and Prejudice. Then again, I'm not very much a long dress and floppy hat sort of girl.
I picked a sprig of pink flowers of the azalea bush, and spun it around in my fingers as I entered the maze. The boxwood was a lovely, dense green, and the estate was far enough from the road to make me feel like I had dropped into another time. I followed the turns in the maze, allowing myself to roam and enjoying the sense of tranquility.
I lost track of time as I wandered through twists and turns, and was so entranced in my exploration that I was surprised to realize that the light had started to fade. I needed to
find my way out before it was too dark to see. I paused to look up for something to help me get my bearings, just as the sky opened up to dump buckets of rain.
Just perfect. What is it with this country and rain?
I started to jog, trying to find my way back through the maze, but hitting dead end after dead end. The down fall picked up, making it harder to see as I ran faster. The rain, the cold, and all the weeks of over thinking and reacting finally caught up to me, and I started to cry out of frustration.
Why had I come here? It was just a stupid book and what had it gotten me? Every dead end I hit simply reinforced the roadblocks I had thrown up for myself. I thought I would make the correct turn, only to be confronted by another wall of green.
Green. Every where I looked, taunting me. I couldn't escape.
After who knows how long of blind turns and dead ends, I finally found my way out of the maze. The lights from the kitchen cast a warm glow, and I ran for the house, desperate for shelter.
When I reached the back door, I grabbed the handle and tugged. It didn't give. I pulled harder. No luck.
Carlisle and Esme would have left by now.
I ran around to the front of the building and up the steps to the front door. I yanked hard, and it gave easily. I darted in and slammed the door behind me, leaning against it as I struggled to catch my breath.
I was cold, I was tired, and I was drenched. I was in country where my best friend wasn't speaking to me at the moment, I was borderline obsessed with a man I hardly knew, and I couldn't go home.
I didn't even have a home anymore.
I was literally and figuratively stuck, with no clue of how to get out.
"Isabella?"
I should have registered shock at anyone being here, let alone him. But I was too worn down to think anymore.
I stepped forward and threw my arms around Edward's neck. I felt him stiffen, but I was too desperate to let go.
"Please just reciprocate, if just for a minute," I pleaded. "I'm so tired of trying to be strong. I'm tired of being scared. I know I've been terrible to you and I am so incredibly sorry. I didn't want to hurt you, but I didn't want you to hurt me either."
My request was all Edward needed. His arms were immediately around me, his hand pushing my wet hair out of my face and smoothing it back.
"Shhh, you're okay." He continued to run his hand over my hair, waiting as I caught my breath.
And I didn't want to catch my breath, because I knew that when I did, he would release me and I'd be alone again. That he would leave, and all that we would ever be is a memory because of my fears.
"Isabella, you are soaking wet and you are shivering. You need to dry off and get warm."
I took that as my cue, and dropped my arms, stepping back to wipe my face.
"I'm sorry, I…"
"Go change clothes. Esme put together a tray, it's in the kitchen. I'll get it and meet you in the library." His face was unreadable. The front of his oxford was stained with wet spots.
I wiped my face with the palm of my hand, partially to clear away the water, partially to hide my embarrassment. "I'm sorry about your shirt."
"It's just a shirt. Go." He pointed up the steps.
I turned and ran up the steps to my room, where I quickly stripped out of my wet clothes and toweled off. I pulled on dry clothes and swiftly blew my hair dry in an attempt to defrost before getting dressed.
I grabbed an elastic band out of my backpack, and pulled my hair back in a knot as I descended the steps. I could see Edward through the door of the library, his arm resting on the fire place mantle. He appeared to be lost in the flames.
A tray had been placed on the table loaded down with cheese, grapes, crackers and crudités. My stomach growled at the site of food. I grabbed a grape and popped it in
my mouth on the way to the side board to survey my options. Bottles of scotch, whisky, brandy and port were neatly arrayed. I poured myself a snifter of brandy, and settled into the wing back chair I had occupied earlier.
"Would you like a blanket? I might be able to find a sweatshirt somewhere…" Edward asked quietly. I couldn't read anything in his tone. He might have asked me about the weather.
"I'm okay now. I just needed dry clothes and a towel."
Edward turned to face me. He looked tired, dark circles beneath brilliant green eyes. He had the same haunted look about him that I saw on Emmett from the review mirror this morning.
My heart, ever the traitor, flip flopped a bit at the concept of him longing after me like Emmett did for Rose. I had no right to want that, to hope, yet I couldn't help it. I had been cruel and unthinking. He deserved better than me.
"Bella, I need to talk to you. I want to explain some things, and I need you to listen to me. No running away, no shutting me out. Promise me you will listen." He paused, studying me. "If you promise to listen, then I promise to tell you things that I should have a very long time ago."
I leaned forward to grab a cracker off the tray. It bought me a bit of time to think.
Edward picked up the poker and gave the logs in the fireplace a jab, stirring up the flames. Once happy with the heat it was generating, he settled into the wing back chair across from me. His legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed. His fingers drummed absently on the arm of the chair, as if trying to channel nervous energy or anxiety.
We stared at each other for a long time. The only sound in the room was the popping of the wood as it burnt. Every moment of silence scared me more, but I knew that it was his story to tell, and I had to do my part. I would sit, listen, and hope that I could understand.
Edward took a long breath before launching in, assuming my silence to be acquiescence.
"You don't ever have to ask me to reciprocate. How could I not?"