We are all drifting reefwards now, and faith is our only anchor.
Dracula, Bram Stoker
Chapter 27 - Honest Answers
"Are you sure you have everything?"
Rose had been mother henning me for the past two hours.
"Yes. Passport, wallet, laptop, clothes. I am ready to go."
She nodded, biting her lip.
"What is it, Rose? Spit it out?" She'd been walking on eggshells since I'd shown up on her doorstep unannounced two days ago. I knew she wanted to pry, but I also knew she was respecting my space.
"I got you something. I know that you'll yell at me and say it's too much, but…"
She pulled a small pouch from her purse and handed it to me. I tugged on the drawstring and tipped it up to reveal a small silver phone.
"I wanted you to be able to stay in touch. I knew you couldn't afford international calling, and I couldn't modify your existing service." She took a breath before continuing. "It does email too. I had all your information, and got Emmett to set it up. Everything is in there; email, phone, you name it."
I was touched. It wasn't the gift so much as the thought behind it.
"Thank you, Rose. You are the best."
She squeezed me tightly. "Use it until I get there, okay? I want to hear from you every day."
"I will; I promise. I'll see you next Tuesday, okay?"
Dropping her arms, Rose stepped back so that I could grab my bag.
"Tell Angela to stock the fridge with Goose Island! I am dying for a little down home hoppy goodness."
"Will do." I let out a breath, and started towards security. I'd gone about four steps before I stopped to look back over my shoulder.
Rose stood, watching me go. Just Rose. No one else.
I hoisted my bag a little higher on my shoulder and resumed my walk to security.
He'd made his point clear. There would be no grand gesture at the eleventh hour. No running through the airport, shouting that he loved me, apologizing about the stupidity of the proposal.
Nor would there be a real one that would convince me not to get on the plane.
It hurt to realize that even though I hadn't expected it to happen, deep down I had hoped for it.
Forget that we'd never had a real conversation about what we wanted in the future. Practical conversation and grand gestures don't often intersect.
The nine hour flight to Chicago was uneventful. I worked on my presentation notes, watched a movie, tried to sleep. Anything to keep from thinking about the what ifs.
What if he had shown up at the airport? What if he meant it when he said about not waiting? What if things in Chicago didn't go the way I hoped? What if all this really was for naught?
I pushed the thoughts out of my head. Edward hadn't shown up, and I wasn't going to fail. As for whether or not he'd wait, I'd have to cross the bridge once I got back to London.
Not if, when. I refused to believe in anything but that.
As arranged, Angela met me at the baggage claim at O'Hare. She, Rose and I had been friends since undergrad, and we'd stayed close after. A lot of it had been because her fiancé and Mike ended up at the same law firm.
"Oh my god! You look amazing!" She cooed as she gave me a huge hug. "I missed you!"
I hugged Angela back. "Thank you so much for picking me up."
She waved me off and grabbed my backpack from my hand. "Come on, grab your bags. I've got beer and guacamole waiting, and there are hot dogs and burgers ready to be grilled. It doesn't get more American than that!"
Our walk to the car was filled with Angela's chatter. About old friends, Ben's job, the renovation on their house. It was all inane small talk, but it filled the space.
I couldn't help but think that this could have been my life. As much as I was happy for Angela, I couldn't imagine choosing the path she had followed. She filled her days with volunteer efforts, lots of working out, and her remodeling project. Ben was gone a lot, and when he was home, they were constantly on the go. I knew that Angela wanted a baby, but Ben was too focused on his career. I wanted to ask her if she was happy, but knew that happiness was measured by the individual. Angela was living the life she wanted. It just wasn't for me.
She quizzed me about England, curious about my experiences and the progress I made that lead to my presentation. It was clear she had spoken with Rose by the way she peppered me with questions about the hot Southern man that Rose had reeled in. She was curious about my trip north too, had I enjoyed it, what had I done, where had I stayed? I laughed when she mentioned that she wanted to try and schedule a long weekend for her and Ben there. She went on and on about the romantic places to stay and things they would do.
I was just about to launch into the description of Dunsley Hall as the perfect place to go, but stopped short. I didn't want to share something so personal, even with Angela.
I hadn't thought about Whitby, or the debacle that had driven me there, in months. Not a single thought about Maggie, either. I found it ironic that I'd managed to leave her behind so easily. Maybe it was my new found sense of self confidence, or security in the fact that Edward really did want me.
Or maybe I simply had outgrown my fear of competing with a ghost.
It also reinforced the fact that Edward was thousands of miles away, doing who knows what. I'd not spoken to him since he left the flat in a fury. I'd called, but he never answered, either at home or on his cell. I tried stopping by the flat the day after he walked out, but no one was there. It was like he had dropped off the face of the earth.
Angela pulled into a parking spot in front of the grocery store. "I need to run in and grab some milk and more chips. Do you want to come in?"
"No, if you don't mind, I'll stay here. The quiet is nice."
Angela grabbed her purse from behind her seat, promising to be right back. As soon as she was inside the store, I pulled out my new phone and powered it up. A text message from Rose was waiting, asking for me to let her know I got here safe and sound. I shot her back a message letting her know all was good, and I would call soon.
Scrolling though the contacts, I noticed that she'd added both hers and Emmett's work and cell numbers and emails. Jasper was in there, office and email. So was Edward.
I looked at his name for a long time, desperately wishing I could talk to him. It was beyond obvious at this point that he was avoiding me, pushing me away for choosing to come back here. It stung, but in a way I understood. He really did think he had my best interest at heart, it was just…
Just what? Wrong? In some ways, yes. In other ways, maybe not.
After I'd shown up at Rose's unannounced, I'd dug out my presentation. I wasn't in the mood to work on it, but it was a way to shut out all the errant thoughts that swirled around in my head. And there, wedged between two manila folders was a small black leather book.
One that I'd forgotten to give back.
Like a glutton for punishment, I read it again, cover to cover. Understanding more of his actions, but also becoming increasing frustrated by the hypocrisy of his stance.
He'd said it clearly early on. He was afraid of losing me. He'd always been afraid, which is why he had taken the actions that he did. The overt manipulation and promise of an engagement had been absolutely devastating at the time. But hindsight allowed me perspective that I didn't have in the moment. That's when I realized that while we'd put the past to rest, Edward had never dealt with the fallout. Very simply, he expected people to reject him and leave, because that's exactly what Maggie had done.
His feeble attempt at a proposal had been, in his own way, his declaration of how much he loved me. But it had been for the wrong reason. It wasn't about us being together for the rest of our lives. It was about keeping me from leaving him.
And that is exactly why I had to say no.
It also explained why, when the proposal backfired, he did the only thing he could. He tried to force my hand. And then he walked away.
Correction. He pulled a Bella and ran away. He felt like he didn't have any choice either. In some ways, it was a mirror reflection of what I'd done upon finding Maggie's photo in his apartment months ago. An honest conversation on the front end could have prevented so much. Instead, Edward did what was in his nature; he hid things in an effort to protect me while controlling the situation to protect himself.
Deep down, I couldn't be mad at him for that. The way he'd handled it both times had been totally wrong, but the basic intent had been noble. And according to Alice, that same trait is what Maggie had worried about when she found out she was sick.
It would always be in Edward's nature to try and save people. Yet there was a difference between doing it for the right reason and doing it for the wrong one. He insisted that he did these things for others, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was really about protecting himself.
And of course I had to make it worse by reacting to the hurt. Looking at it in hindsight, I don't know if I could have responded any differently. Everything he'd said had come across as so cold, so clinical. But part of me couldn't help but second guess. What if I had chased after him? What if some how I'd managed to stop him? Was there anything that I could have said that would have changed things?
The never ending litany of what ifs. They seemed to consume my life these days.
I stared at the phone in my hand, thinking for a long time before selecting the email icon. Choosing Edward's personal email from the contact list, I typed out a short email message.
Hi –
Just landed in Chicago. It's hot, which feels weird after London. Having dinner with Ang and then crashing early. Am six hours behind you, so if you get this and want to call, it won't be too late.
B
He could avoid me all he wanted. It didn't mean I had to respect it.
The next week was a whirlwind. I took the train into the city to meet with my advisor. I had lunch with a friend from college who worked at a small artsy publishing house.
She had reached out to some contacts in the UK for me, and had turned up a contract opportunity associated with a private foundation. It wouldn't be a long term job, and it probably wouldn't pay a lot, but it could lead to additional contacts and some work that I could point to as I interviewed for permanent jobs.
Rose's flight was scheduled to arrive at two on Tuesday, a week and a day after I had arrived in Chicago. She'd managed to move around her work schedule so that she could see my presentation.
It meant the world that she would do something like that for me.
That afternoon, while Angela met Rose at the airport, I had a meeting of my own. Ben had arranged for me to talk with an old friend who specialized in immigration law. She had a soft spot for Ben, and had offered to give me a few recommendations on how to navigate British immigration policy if I bought her a cup of coffee.
"Based on your education level, and the earnings you had for last year, you should plan on applying for a Highly Skilled Migrant Worker Visa," Kate explained as she stirred sweetener into her coffee. "Ideally it will make things more viable if you have a permanent job, but it doesn't totally preclude you from getting a visa. It's not like we are talking about becoming a citizen."
"So I can re-enter the country, even though I don't have a job? I've been over there for five months already."
Kate smiled and took a sip of her coffee. "It will probably go faster if you are there and submit your papers directly at the Home Office. The hardest part will be establishing residency. How long will you be in Chicago?"
I mapped out the remainder of my to-dos against my mental calendar. "At least another week."
"Go back over there and get this contract thing lined up, then apply. Heck, they may even be willing to foot the fee for you. If it doesn't come through, you should still be fine, as it typically takes ten to fourteen weeks for visa processing. You can invest a month or two working on finding a job before you have to get worried. Do you have somewhere to live?"
"I have a friend that I'd been staying with. She's an American citizen working on a project for the British government."
Kate nodded, placing her cup back on the table. "That's okay, but it would be much better if you had some stronger British ties. Roommates or something. They can't technically give you grief for it, but every little thing helps."
Her comment made me laugh at the irony. "Might as well get married for that matter."
"No, you definitely don't want to go that route. A bogus marriage is the best way to get kicked out of a country fast. Seriously though, the Brits are pretty progressive. I plugged all the details into the points calculator, and you are well over their minimum for requirements. Just line up something for employment and I can't see them denying you."
"You're joking, right?" I was shocked by Kate's assessment.
"No, not at all. It's not like getting into the States, Bella. Other countries are much more laid back about their immigration policies. Just make sure you have all your paperwork in order and establish residency ASAP. Your biggest jeopardy will be not finding a job, but you sound like you might have a few ideas on the hopper, so you should be in good shape."
We spoke for a bit longer about my options. Kate was great and happily promised to field any questions that I might have down the road.
After she left, I sat in the coffee shop, thinking through the things that I would need to get done in the next few days. I'd taken care of most of the non academic items on my list. My safe deposit box had been cleared out, tax forms retrieved from a box stored in Angela's attic. All that was really left was the last bit of preparation for my presentation on Thursday afternoon.
Glancing at my watch, I realized that it would be a good hour before Angela would be back from the airport with Rose. For the first time in weeks, I actually had time on my hands where absolutely nothing to had to get done.
And I had no clue what to do with myself.
I tried reading the magazine someone had left on the table next to me, but the articles were either trite odes to bizarre fashion or feminist manifestos on how to have the next great orgasm. Frustrated, I closed the magazine, and pulled out a pen, happy to doodle on the cover.
As I traced the letters and drew a moustache on the cover models, my mind began to wander. I thought about the strange twists and turns that my life had taken in the last five months.
As much as I didn't want to admit it, I'd tried desperately to put everything in neat little clean boxes. My career prospects. My relationships; with Rose, with Emmett, with Edward. But simple definitions didn't always work. It made me think about a conversation with a philosophy professor my sophomore year of college. He made us hold our hands over our desks, just high enough to cast a shadow, and asked us what we saw.
We all had variations of the same answer. Black and white. Light and dark.
He told us to look again, and this time pay attention to the edges. It wasn't as simple as black and white. There was a fine line around the shadow, a grey area that was neither one or the either, but bleed into both.
He called this the penumbra, and told us that we all lived our lives trying to be in the black or white, but rarely left the grey area at the edges.
I'd been looking at the people in my life the same way. No one in my life easily slotted into black or white categories. Not Edward, not Emmett. Not even Rose. We had both good and bad in us, the ability to do both harm and good.
I had been so ready to be angry at Rose for what happened with Royce, to make it about good and bad, that I never stopped to consider how her own issues and insecurities had led to the entire situation. And how in letting him off the hook, she had tried to make a wrong situation right.
We'd both done our fair share of damage. Like sirens, we'd lured men in, given them hope, made them love us. And in our own way, we'd bled them dry. Emmett, Edward, even Royce. Their actions in a number of ways were direct reactions to our choices.
And stepping even further back, as much as I had joked about my demonization of Maggie, she'd been just as bad. Her actions had left lasting marks on Edward, some of which he had yet to deal with.
He'd insisted that Maggie was preparation for me. She'd done so much to shape Edward, and those actions had a direct impact on how he had taken care of me after the accident, how he'd stood by me. But they also made him place his need to protect me over my need for him to be honest.
But I couldn't place all the blame on Edward. Or Royce. Every action had a reaction, every decision, a consequence. It didn't matter if the intent was good or not.
Just like my dissertation topic. Rose, Maggie, me, it didn't matter. Our choices set the course for all other events, which sparked a chain reaction.
The consequences of which we were living with right now.
A tap on my shoulder broke me out of my reverie. I dropped my pen and looked up with a smile.
But it wasn't Rose or Angela shouting to get my butt in gear, that there were drinks chilling.
It was Mike.
"Hi Bella."
He sat down in the chair across from me. His tie was loosened, and I noticed that his hands were free. No briefcase, no cell phone. He was totally unencumbered. Nothing to tie him to the office or his next big case.
He was totally out of his element.
"Hi…" I shuffled the magazine and pen around on the table, trying to find something to occupy my hands. "What are you doing here?"
"Ben and I had lunch today, he mentioned that you were back and would be downtown to meet with an old law school buddy about some legal stuff. I had a clear afternoon, so I thought I would stop by."
I nodded, not sure what to think. The firm that Mike and Ben worked for was only a few blocks from here, yet I had never stopped to consider that he might show up unannounced.
"How have you been?" I asked, not quite sure how to proceed. I had planned on asking Mike to meet me for a drink once my defense was over. He'd asked to see me when I came back, and he deserved better closure than I had given him in London.
"Okay. Busy. Working a lot." He sat back in his chair, idly fidgeting with a cup of coffee.
"You always did."
"More so since you left." His expression was pained, and I had a momentary pang of sadness. Mike really was a good guy, just not good for me.
"Listen, I…"
"No, I came to speak my peace, and I need you to let me do it." He paused, and I had to laugh to myself; he was slipping into trial mode, putting on his game face. "Bella, I love you. I've always loved you. I don't know how not to. And all this time without you, well…it made me realize just how much I need you in my life. I don't care if you work. You do what is going to make you happy; I'll stand behind you one hundred percent. Just come back to me, please?"
I sighed and reached out to grab his hand. He was hurting, and he held out hope for me, it was the least I could do.
Mike reached out to brush my bangs away from my eyes. He frowned as he registered the scar on my temple.
"What the hell happened?" His finger glanced gently along the red line, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
"I had an accident about six weeks ago. It's okay, I'm fine now."
"What the hell, Bella?" He surveyed me, taking in the scar on my arm too. "How could this have happened?"
"Nothing, Mike. It was just an accident."
"I knew I should have never let you go to London on your own." He took a deep breath, and squeezed my hand. "Let me drive you back to Ang's to get your stuff. It doesn't make sense for you to stay with her; you should be with me. I've been looking at bigger places, we can…"
"Stop, okay? Just stop." I cut him off. I needed to be honest with him, to be clear once and for all. "I'm not staying, Mike. My review is in a few days. Once I finish that, I am going to take care of a couple more things, and then going back to London. I'm not planning on staying in Chicago."
He searched my face, as a frown of disbelief clouded his usually happily demeanor. "Did you get a job there?"
I shook my head no, which only spurred him on.
"Why go back? Why not stay here?"
The need to cushion the blow was immense, but I needed to be honest. Mike deserved that.
"Because I want to go back, Mike. I belong in London. My life is there, not here."
"No, Bella, you belong here with me. I thought we…"
"Mike, stop. You aren't listening to me. You want me to be here. But you want it for you, not for me. Home is London now…"
I broke off, envisioning the space I considered home. It might not be an option for me any more, but I had to try.
"I belong in London. I'm sorry. I don't know how to say it any more plainly." I squeezed his hand, my heart sinking as the look of resignation registered on his face. "You are a lovely man, Mike. And you deserve the best. But that's not me. I know that you believe I am, and someday you'll realize that there is someone out there perfect for you. Someone who drives you crazy and spins you around and makes you feel like you've never lived before. You deserve that. And the only way you are going to find it is if you let me go."
I had a momentary flash of sitting in another coffee shop, an ocean away, having a similar conversation with a little black haired British woman who spoke of soul mates and what you faced in life to prepare you for yours. I'd come to accept that Maggie had been Edward's preparation for me. Maybe in some warped way, I'd performed the same service for Mike.
"You've met someone else, haven't you?" He didn't sound angry, simply resigned. "I can tell by what you just said. I've never seen you speak passionately like that about anything other than books. Who is it? That British guy that I saw you with outside your apartment? The big American guy that looked like a linebacker?"
The old Bella would have deferred. She would have done whatever it took to make him understand. But Mike deserved my honesty, if it would hurt him.
"Yes, I met someone else. That's why I can say with absolutely certainty that there is someone out there that will turn your world upside down in a wonderful way. Have faith, Mike. She's out there waiting for you. You will find her."
He nodded, acknowledging my words. It hurt to see him try to process what he perceived as my rejection of him.
"I'll always love you in my own way, Mike. You were a huge part of my life for a long time. But neither of us are those kids any more." I leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "I wish you all the best in whatever you do, you know that don't you?"
Tears were forming in his eyes, and I wished just for one second that I could give him the answer he wanted. A year ago, I would have. But I wasn't that woman any longer, and could never let myself go back to that place. I didn't matter how much I cared about Mike as a person. My heart would always belong to someone else.
I kissed his cheek once more, whispered goodbye, and picked my back pack up. I didn't have the heart to look back.
Once outside, I pulled out my cell phone to call Angela. They were ten minutes away. I told her I'd meet her at the El station on Lake. A few minutes of walking and some distance from Mike would be a good thing.
As I walked, I tried to rationalize the conflicting emotions that washed over me. It made me sad to say goodbye to Mike, but as I dug into the emotions, it was purely about nostalgia. I really did hope that he would find someone to make him happy.
We all deserved to know what that crazy, all consuming love felt like.
Without thinking, I flipped open my phone and hit speed dial. The international ring sounded tinny, hollow. A long hum followed by a click. Once. Twice. Three times.
I was about to disconnect when I heard him answer.
"Edward Masen."
"Hi, Doc. You…" I was cut off by a beep. It was his voicemail.
I took a deep breath and launched in.
"You know, I'm really getting tired of talking to machines. Since this is the only way to reach you, I guess I'll just have to lay it all out here. I met with an immigration lawyer today. I'm going to file for a highly skilled migrant visa. I also have a lead on a contract job in the UK. It probably won't pay for shit, which means that I'll get to wait tables or make coffee too, but it's a start."
I took a deep breath and plowed on.
"Look, Edward, I am still pissed off at you for that stunt you pulled, and how you walked out on me. That was totally bush league, and I deserve better than that. But I also wanted to let you know that I am coming back. You can pull back and hide, whatever it is you are doing. You can run, it doesn't matter. I'll find you."
I had to smile at myself. I sounded like a mother chastising a petulant child.
"I love you. I don't always agree with your decisions, but that doesn't change how I feel about you. I don't know where your head is at in all this, but you didn't let me run and hide when I was scared, and I am not going to let you either."
I saw Angela's car stopped at the traffic light down the street; my signal to wrap it up. "My presentation is on Thursday. I'll call you when I book my return flight home."
I flipped the phone shut and leaned against a pole, waiting.
Not two minutes after I hung up, my phone vibrated. I pulled it out to see a text message from Edward.
Good luck.
It wasn't an answer, but it was a start.