Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just decided it was time to shake things up a bit in her characters' world. And I wanted a bitchy Bella, so here we go!
Oh, and all of the references used in this story in relation to the advertising and marketing company and accounts are only used here for entertainment purposes; no copyright infringement intended.
Thank you to the following people: Angelicwish, who has gone above and beyond the call of duty to provide this insecure writer with loads of feedback, advice, beta services and great conversations, and to my Jennay- Love you! A special thank you to Forever_Liz, Megsly and barburella, and my ficwife SusanAshlea for being awesome in general. You guys help me work through my plot and skittle me silly. Love you all!
Again, I must apologize for any delay and off-schedule posting. For the past four weeks I have been relegated to writing chapters at work, after-hours, while I pine away for the new laptop that is taking its sweet-ass time to get to my house. Now that my new lappy Milan has arrived, things will get easier.
I'd also like to especially thank my loyal reviewers (and my new ones, too)! I don't have time to respond to all of them, but please know I read each one and love you all for your passion and feedback!
So now we're going to peek inside Sweetward's brain for a bit. Get ready for it! And since this is a special chapter for me, I've decided to do something a little out of the norm for me – this chapter will feature two POVs. Enjoy!
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Chapter Twenty-nine: Upside-down
EPOV
What a weird couple of weeks.
The first weekend Bella and I had spent together, post-Chicago trip, had been amazing and such a progression in our relationship. It was like we had truly connected, completely, for the first time since we'd been together. Admittedly, I was on Cloud Nine when the week started, but Bella again showed me why I could never get too comfortable with her.
She was cold, calculating and, fuck, it pissed me off. At first I just silently agreed when she insisted we keep up appearances at the office. Despite my misgivings about pretending we still couldn't stand each other, I could understand that she needed to figure things out and that she didn't want to attract unwanted attention. Professionalism was one thing, but this woman took it to a new level. All fucking week she made me her errand boy - running all over the city doing the most mundane, ridiculous busywork. I tolerated it for a little while, but then lost my shit late that Friday.
Granted, my comment was unprofessional, but her demeanor the entire week had been just as much so. And when my girlfriend lectured me on the finer points of workplace etiquette, and decided to level with me on her perception of our relationship, I knew it was never going to be over - never going to get resolved.
"If they find out that you're fucking your boss, how do you think that'll go over, huh? Do you really think they'll have any respect for you or me? Everything I've worked for will have been for nothing, and your reputation and mine will be destroyed," she'd said, breaking my fucking heart. "So I'm sorry this is so hard on you, Edward, but it's hard on me, too. And I have no fucking idea what to do about it."
Well, I did. The floodgates opened, then, and I told her she was selfish, afraid and accused her of always keeping a bit of herself locked away from me. My anger permeated every pore, and I surrendered to it, figuring Bella needed to be knocked down a few pegs. And then she threw Tanya's text in my face. Shit. I'd meant to change my number. But then recognition dawned, and I realized Bella didn't know about the text from Tanya the night of the concert; I'd erased it as soon as it had been received. Somehow, she knew. And before I could even make sense of that bit of information, she was throwing Aro at me, along with Tanya, and accusing me of lying.
Tanya, I learned, had texted me again during the weekend, and Bella had intercepted it. All of her fears, insecurities and paranoia were bubbling to the surface like blood from a gaping wound. I needed to staunch the flow. So I ended it.
I barely remember walking out and leaving the office. My brain only registered that I was home when I was sitting in the living room with an empty beer in my hand. The feeling - knowing that I had been the one to stick the proverbial fork in our relationship - was strangely like having been shot with way too much Novocain. My body was numb. Unfortunately nothing could erase my conscience, which was quite aware of what had just transpired.
I'd just broken up with her. And she'd pleaded for me not to, in the end. But I couldn't back down. This was for the best - for both of us. Right?
The beers weren't helping to numb my brain - or my heart - so I decided something stronger was in order. I searched through my cabinets until I found the bottle of Laphroaig, and quickly handed myself a heavy pour. With a few cubes and mostly whiskey clinking in the glass, I found my way back to the sofa, untucked my shirt from my pants and loosened my tie.
A quarter of the way through my liquid dinner, I decided to call Esme. I wasn't sure where Bella had gone after our fight, but I wanted to at least check to see if she'd been there, and to fill Esme in. She picked up on the second ring.
"Hey, Esme. It's Edward," I said, struggling not to sound as sloppy as I already felt. "Look, I wanted to call and let you know that…Bella and I…well, we, ah, sort of got into a fight. And I, um, broke it off with her. I'm sorry. I just wanted you to know, in case things are weird on Monday. I don't mean to put you in the middle of our relationship bullshit." The words flowed like the amber liquid in my glass, coating my mouth and making my tongue fuzzy.
"Oh, hon, please don't worry about that. I don't think you've put me in the middle of anything," she replied.
"Um, Esme, have you seen or heard from her?" I couldn't hide the worry in my voice, and was surprised when it came through.
"Yes, she's here and she told me what happened," she answered. Hearing that Bella was there was like a punch to the gut, though I was glad she was safe.
"She was torturing herself, and us, and I just couldn't let it continue, Esme," I explained. Part of me felt guilty for telling my other boss all of this; the other part was compelled to share it with someone, and Esme knew Bella better than anyone. "She's amazing…and I do love her, but she's trying to punish herself, for God knows what, and it's just never going to be good enough. Nothing will. And…I just can't."
Esme said she agreed and that she understood my position, which floored me. But then again, Esme was a constant source of motherly support for all of us; it shouldn't have surprised me.
"I'm not going to let this ruin anything you two have worked so hard to establish, Esme," I continued. "Regardless of our personal relationship, I will continue to work for Bella, and you, if you are fine with that."
" Yes. Of course. I would expect nothing less from you." Esme assured me that Bella would most likely be mulling over the whole thing on the weekend, and I requested that she let me know if she needed anything. We agreed to see each other on Monday, and I hung up. Talking to her had at least calmed a few of my frayed nerves. Maybe the whiskey could take care of the rest.
Seconds, minutes, maybe hours passed by. The golden liquid in my seemingly always-full glass captivated me. As the sun set, I watched the dying rays of light dance and cast a glow through the whiskey and onto the wall. Soon there was no more light in my living room. But I still had the Laphroaig.
At some point, I heard a gentle but persistent knocking on my door, and dragged myself away from my pity party of one in the living room to answer it. Through my bleary vision I saw Jasper standing at my door, takeout in-hand and a strange expression on his face.
"Hey, hoss, heard you could use some comp'ny," he said in his easy twang. I envied Jasper his laidback attitude and accent. Even on the rare occasions where his temper got the best of him, his drawl and accompanying friendliness lent calm to everyone around him. Maybe I could at least pretend to not give a shit, if I had an accent like that. I should try that someday. I wonder if Jasper would mind if I broke out a Texan accent. Eventually, I discarded the thought, since I was probably too drunk to speak clearly in even my own. Tonight, Jasper's calm wasn't going to help much.
"Well, shit, J, you're just in time for my pity party!" Ushering him inside, I refilled my glass for what seemed the first time - though the whiskey bottle was suspiciously low - and I trudged back to my cushy sofa and sank into it. Jasper eventually appeared bearing a plate of Chinese food and utensils, and set them before me urging me to eat.
"Man, you gotta eat something," he pleaded. "That shit is gonna wreck ya and I do not have any desire to be holdin' your hand in the ER while those pretty li'l nurses pump your gut." But he sat down next to me and asked to try it. Begrudgingly, I handed over my glass, though I watched him like a hawk.
"Aaah, that there's some good whiskey," he said, nodding in approval as he took another sip.
"Come on, ya greedy tumbleweed. Give me back my drink," I demanded, snatching back the glass and nearly tossing it behind me. I slurped noisily as I drained the contents, and then fell back against the couch, yanking on my hair with one hand.
"Ed, man, what happened to you today?" Jasper asked. His voice sounded like he was talking to me underwater, and it struck me as hilarious. I heard myself snort. Oh, yeah. Most definitely drunk. "Start talking, pal."
It took great effort, but I turned my head toward where the underwater Jasper voice was coming from, opened one eye, stifled another laugh at the sight of him looking strangely concerned and decided to spill it. What do I have to lose? I won't remember this tomorrow, anyways.
"J, me and Bella…well, I ended things tonight," I mumbled, considering whether I could physically handle another trip to the kitchen for a refill. Deciding against it, I remained rooted to the sofa. "Fuck. We're not together anymore."
It was all I could manage; the whiskey and my words weighed a ton. Uncomfortable in the silence that seemed to stretch forever, I dug into the plate of now-cold Chinese food, barely tasting what slid down my throat. Cold Chinese food had a generically pleasing salty taste to it, and my taste buds - like the rest of me - were too drunk to care, anyways. I thought I heard a low curse come from the other side of the couch, and turned my head to Jasper. Noodles spilled out of my mouth and a piece of chicken tumbled onto the floor.
"Shit, man, I'm sorry," he said. "Wanna talk 'bout it?"
Shrugging hard, I chewed for a moment, not wanting to waste any more chicken pieces. "Wff fere fo ffflk bmt?" After I finished my mouthful, I added, "We were together. It was good. She pissed me off. Now we're not. The end."
Jasper was silent again, so I stuffed my face some more, until I was satisfied and he spoke again. Never one to mince words, or speak before considering all the options, I knew it was going to be good, given the amount of time he'd been quiet. Needing something else to occupy me, I kicked off my shoes and pulled off my socks. Maybe if I exposed more skin to fresh air, it would make me feel better. So I rolled up my shirtsleeves as well.
"Edward, I'm sorry y'all split up," he began. "Bella's a nice girl, deep down, and y'all seemed pretty well suited for one another. She's tough, I know, but we all got our shit. You well know what that's like. And consider her position: she's your boss and she doesn't want anything happenin' to you professionally. Now I know she's chappin' your hide, but is it worth throwin' it all away to prove a point? And what is your point?"
Fuck if I know.
"J, who the hell knows," I mumbled. "She's a scared little girl, and the fucking games were just messing with my head." As if it hurt, I scratched my head and ran my hand through my messy hair. "I mean, I wanted to help her work out her shit. Guess I kind of forgot about that, though, when she accused me of keeping things from her, like Tanya's text. It's like a switch flipped in my head." Jasper nodded but said nothing. Needing another drink - okay, maybe not needing one, per se - I managed to get into the kitchen and emptied the bottle into my glass, spilling some on the counter. I dragged my fingers through the spilled whiskey and slurped them clean. Then I made my way back to my friend.
"Wha?" I asked him as I flopped back down. Jasper just shook his head, his mouth turned up in the corner. "I'm thirsy."
The more I thought about Bella, the angrier I became. She had pushed me to do this - hadn't she? Why did she have to act so bitchy all the damned time? Wasn't it a fact that it took way more muscles to frown than it did to smile? She was wasting so much energy on it, and I was tired of it.
But didn't we love each other? This wasn't the kind of thing you do when you love someone - treat them like a dog. Fetch the bone, doggie. I'll take you for a walk, doggie. Don't poop in my flowerbeds, doggie. Fuck her. And fuck that. But, sure, she didn't treat me like that all the time, but it was so hot and cold with her. Fast and slow. Stop and go. I feel a song coming on.
"I mean, J, am I losing my mind? She accused me of keeping shit from her, when she was the one who hijacked my phone to spy on me," I said in a rush. "You can't treat people like that, man. Not someone you love."
Jasper might have said something sage and sensible, but the sound was muffled now, and so I jumped right back into my diatribe on Bella and relationships. And the more I talked, the more pissed off I got. Poor Jasper. If he'd only known what he was getting himself into…
"No. I did what needed to be done," I slurred. "I kept taking her shit, because I loved her, but that was it. Every man has his breaking point, and being accused of lying to my girlfriend, that was it. The last straw. God damn it! Why do I feel guilty? It's not my fault! I don't need this shit! She fucks with my head even when I'm not with her!"
The glass I was holding went sailing through the air, and as the remains of the whiskey slipped out of it, I watched with amusement, before it smashed into the opposite wall with style. Chunks and shards of crystal sprayed from the point of impact like a detonating bomb, and I stepped back in shock.
"Christ, Edward," Jasper swore under his breath. He rose and walked past me, pushing me back against the wall as he went by. "Stay right here. There's glass everywhere. Stay." I didn't move an inch, except for the swaying.
He returned with my broom and dustpan and cleaned up the mess I'd made. If I hadn't been so beyond drunk, I would've felt guiltier. But all I could do was watch him and sway and apologize.
"God, man, I'm sorry," I mumbled. Jasper didn't reply and kept his attention on his task. "Really, J. I'm such an ass. A real dick. I don't know what happened." Once he was finished, Jasper stood with the dustpan full of glass. Anyone else would've been pissed, but he smiled again.
"I know, Ed. I know," he said. "You got mad, and you were itchin' for a bit of destruction, and mission accomplished. No harm, other than to this glass." When he'd thrown it away, he came back and I sat on the couch again. Without my oral fixation to help me, I was at a loss. My thoughts were a confusing, jumbled mess mixed with whiskey and dissipating anger, and I closed my eyes at the strain of it all. There was no more talking. Instead, Jasper took my empty plate and disappeared into the kitchen. Sitting in the silent, darkened living room, it didn't take long for me to pass out.
JPOV
"Hey, Carlisle! What's shakin,' Daddy C?" I asked as I let myself into my place. It had been a long week, and I was thankful for Friday. Edward's brother didn't call me very often, so I knew something was up. And when he spoke, it was plain there was trouble.
"Hi, Jasper," Carlisle said, his voice worried. "I'm sorry to call you like this, but I just spoke with Esme, and she's worried about Edward. Bella just called her crying, and is on her way over there. Bella said Edward left and that it was over. Can you go to his place and just make sure he's not tearing things up?"
"Course, man. No problem," I said, grabbing my keys and locking the door behind me. It took me a little while to get to Edward's - I stopped for some Chinese in preparation for the most-likely drunken mess I'd walk into - but when I got there the house was dark and quiet. After knocking for about a minute, the door opened.
Edward looked like a damned train wreck. He was still dressed for work, though it looked like he'd been through the spin cycle of a washing machine, complete with wet spots on his shirt that appeared to be his drink of choice. The liquid sloshed dangerously in the glass as he invited me in. The destruction was completed, however, by his expression. It was like he was inviting me in on a funeral. Edward was a mess.
"Well, shit, J, you're just in time for my pity party!" he yelled, stumbling back away from the door. Once I was inside, he refilled his glass, as I eyed him and the bottle. Shit. Not the Laphroaig, E. Quickly, I got him a plate of takeout and followed him into the parlor. I tried to plead my case to his sensible side, if it was in there, and explained I didn't fancy making a trip with him to the hospital.
After trying distraction techniques in order to slow his drinking, I finally asked the one thing that most likely drove him to start drinking that night.
"Ed, man, what happened to you today?" I asked. He snorted. Oh, yeah. Most definitely drunk. "Start talking,' pal." Edward seemed a bit tongue-tied, but then told me what had happened. Hopefully it made him feel better to talk about it, to know someone was listening. He told me a little bit, and I divulged to him what I thought about it, but it was clear he wasn't functioning on all six cylinders, so I let it pass for the time being. Edward needed to sleep it off, and tomorrow his head'd be clearer.
But then the rage started and it was clear that all I could do was get out of his way and let him get it out of his system. And it seemed to work; throwing the glass against the wall seemed to have a calming effect on him. Thankfully that was the only disaster and mess I had to clean up that night. When I came back into the room, he was passed out, snoring like a drunken sailor. I cleaned up and made sure he was free of any obstacles should he have to get to the toilet. Then I let myself out and got home.
"Hey, sweetness," I whispered as I crawled into my bed. Ali rolled over and looked at the clock, yawning. "Sorry I woke you, sugar."
"Wow, were you at Edward's this whole time?" she asked, the sleep obviously clouding her mind. I nodded and snuggled closer. "Is he okay? I haven't heard a damned peep from Bella, which is making me worry incessantly about them both. What happened?"
"Not entirely sure, sugar. Edward was pretty torn up, even by the time I got there, but from what I could gather, sounds like they broke up," I said, watching as Ali's eyes opened wide. "I'll go back over tomorrow to help him sort out what happened when he's less tanked."
"Did Edward say anything about how it happened?" she whispered, obviously wanting to get to the heart of the matter. I didn't want to tattle on Bella, so I gave her a little information.
"Well, sweetness, it sounded like Bella was a bit rough on the poor guy, and accused him of something he swears he'd never do, and he lost his temper and walked out on her," I said. "Hopefully we'll all know more tomorrow, when cooler heads will prevail."
"She'd better not have treated him like crap," Alice said, now angry. "Jas, I told her Edward was a keeper. I just know it. And I'm not saying she's the only one at fault, but I know how she is, and she'd pushed him so hard already. I swear, if-"
"Ali, sugar, come on now. Let's put this to rest for tonight," I said, kissing her rosy cheeks. "Tomorrow is a new day." We both said our goodnights and I love yous, and were asleep shortly thereafter.
EPOV
Bright, painful sunlight woke me, immediately followed by the stabbing of a thousand knives in my back and a foul taste in my mouth. Slowly, I opened one eye and then the other, to find that I was lying on my couch, a blanket covering my legs. After my eyesight adjusted to the light, I swung my heavy legs over to rest on the floor, and tried to regain my bearings.
What the fuck happened to me last night? Oh, yeah. Bella. Laphroaig. Lots of it. Jasper brought food. Once I was vertical again - and not without great effort and discomfort - I made my way into the kitchen to inspect the damage. The dishes were put away, and thankfully so were the Chinese leftovers and the bottle. Jasper's cleanliness made it easier to stomach the idea that I might have drank more than half of the expensive whiskey in one night, and topped it off with God-knows-what in the way of takeout.
Last night had been a bit of a disaster; I'd been a disaster. My aching head and heart blocked the thoughts that had taken me to that drunken, sloppy place, though I could feel them tugging at the frayed edges of my consciousness. I just couldn't think about her yet. Thankfully, Jasper saved me from myself. My cell phone buzzed, and I fumbled with my cell before managing to press the "send" button.
"Hey, J. Thanks for taking care of my drunken ass last night," I said, before he could even say hello. I felt like a jerk for making him clean up after me. "Sorry about the mess - in every sense of the word. Really, man. Thanks."
"Hey, sure. It happens to all of us, Ed," he said quietly. He laughed before adding, "I'm just relieved you didn't puke on me, or need me to haul your pretty, Yankee ass to the hospital. Aside from what must be one hell of a hangover, how you feelin,' man?"
Truthfully, the brain fog and general sluggishness were the least of my concerns, and the mildest form of torture from my body, given the amount of whiskey I had consumed. And it was nothing in comparison to the sense of utter emptiness that I knew would wash over me the moment I allowed it.
"Eh, I feel a bit like a sloth today, but other than that and the worst morning breath ever, I'm largely unscathed," I joked. "So you just calling to make sure I made it through the night okay?"
"Well, yeah, but I also wanted to offer you some decent sustenance. If it's okay, I'll bring it by. Want coffee?" I gave him my coffee order - lamenting that coffee shops should offer hair of the dog specialties - and decided to shower in the meantime. It felt damn good to wash the alcohol out of my system, though I feared I might smell like Laphroaig for a week, regardless.
I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and assessed my appearance. My stubble and watery, tired eyes certainly made me look the part, and I ran my fingers through my hair in a futile, half-assed attempt to alter my reflection. After my shower, I dressed quickly and then heard a knock, signaling Jasper's return to the scene of the idiocy. I ushered him in with a firm handshake/manly hug, and took my coffee from the container in his other hand. Well, it wasn't a whiskey, but it certainly would do the trick, I reasoned.
Jasper had brought over perfect morning-after carbs: bagels with cream cheese, donuts and a couple of breakfast sandwiches. After inhaling a sandwich, Jasper cleared his throat, and I knew what was going to follow. Apparently the point of his breakfast offering was to tame the wild beast before euthanizing it. But at least the food might soften the blow.
"Ed, what happened yesterday?"
The question was such a simple one. But my mouth was having trouble forming the words in reply. What had happened yesterday? Why was he behavior the last straw? Hadn't I expected it, at least a little? Had I treated Bella unfairly? These were all additional queries floating around my head like imaginary, blue cartoon birdies.
"Fuck. I don't know, really, J," I said honestly. "I just hit my breaking point, you know what I mean? Enough was finally enough. Bella might be an amazing businesswoman, but she's her own relationship poison, man. It was complete self-and relationship sabotage. Do you know that she actually intercepted a text from Tanya to me last weekend? She never said anything about it. Fuck, J. Bella was just never going to simply be happy. I don't think it's in her genetic makeup."
"But do you still love her?" Again, Jasper had cut right to the quick of the issue. I nodded my reply.
"Of course I do," I said. "Call me crazy, but I love her – regardless of how much she tortures me and herself. I can't help it."
"You're not crazy, Ed," Jasper said quietly, before popping the last bite of his breakfast in his mouth. "And maybe Bella needs a little time to herself to sort things out. But take the time, too, to think about what you really want, and if this is it."
"Thanks, J."
"Don't mention it, Ed."
Jasper left soon after. The man always knew when it was time to leave - when he had said just enough, or pushed just hard enough. He was kind of freaky that way. But truly, I loved the guy for it. Pushing thoughts of Bella aside for the time being, I got on with my day. Carlisle and Jasper tried to drag me out Saturday night, but I just wasn't in the mood, and told them they'd have a much better time with the ladies.
"Ed, just so you're on notice, Carlisle and I are gonna be forced to have a proper burial for your manly pride and soon, if you don't cut out this self-pity, mopin' shit," Jasper said when I turned down his offer. "It's not good for you. Shuttin' yourself off from the world isn't gonna help the hurt."
He was right, of course, but I also knew I'd be shitty company and I didn't want to drag my brother and friend down with my relationship train wreck. And I needed some time to think, and a club or crowded bar was not the place to do that. With a laugh, I assured Jasper that my pride would make a reappearance soon, and told him I was taking his sage advice for the evening. That seemed to satisfy him.
When my brain just couldn't process it anymore, I willed my thoughts of her away, and did everything I could to make the time pass - I read, I cooked myself dinner, I went for a long run. But I couldn't outrun her. Damn it. What was she doing right now, and was she thinking of me? Probably not.
Sunday was much the same as Saturday - and Carlisle even called to check in on me. It was beginning to make me feel rather pathetic. He'd gotten off from his shift, and asked me if I wanted to grab coffee. I thanked him, informed him I was fine, and told him I'd take a rain check on the coffee - after all, he hadn't slept in 48 hours.
Monday came surprisingly fast, though it was probably because part of me was hoping to see Bella. But she didn't come in, and Esme and I had to split the workload for the day. It kept me occupied on work, thankfully - until I happened to see a new voicemail on my cell phone around two. I was in between meetings, and stupidly checked the message. It was from Bella. The sound of her voice, as nervous as it was, renewed the anger and frustration I'd felt the Friday before, and I barely paused between deleting the message and turning off my phone. It stayed off for the rest of the day, and I only remembered to turn it on as I was leaving the office. I had been too busy shaking off the delayed disgust of missing a personal visit from Tanya by mere minutes. Seconds later, it beeped, alerting me to a text. I chuckled darkly before opening the message.
Edward. It's B. Can we talk?
I shut the phone immediately and got into my car. Thoughts of Tanya's possible motives and Bella's phone message and text swirled, mingled and tangled in my mind. What was Tanya up to? And what was Bella trying to do to me? In frustration, I let my head fall against my steering wheel. Okay, forget about Tanya for now. Here I was, trying to push myself past the whole mess, and she wanted to talk. What was there to talk about? It took me until I got home to make the decision to reply.
What?Okay, it might have been overly curt, but she'd hurt me.
I just want to talk. Pls?
Why? Suddenly, the one word answers I was giving seemed a bit too harsh. It was clear that she was trying to reach out.
I have so much I want 2 tell u.
I've heard it all. I wasn't quite ready to talk to her, so my anger took over. Bella only let seconds pass between my texts and her replies, seemingly undeterred by my unresponsiveness, and I could almost picture her face as she got each one. So I pushed that thought aside and pressed the send button. Almost instantly, she replied again.
No, u haven't. Pls. I don't want it 2 b like this.
Bella didn't want this, whatever this was. And, apparently, she wasn't above pleading. This revelation was like a sucker punch to my gut, but still, my nasty texts continued. I felt like I was being set up for yet another fucking game - more like another battle - and my hackles were up. Uncertain of myself and where we stood, it took me a few minutes to reply.
What do u want from me?
Just a chance. Please. I might not deserve u, but u deserve the whole truth.
That text was the fatal blow. I collapsed onto my bed, letting the phone drop beside me. Seeing her words was just as powerful, if not more so, than hearing her say them to me in person. There they were in print, preserved in my phone. Bella was putting herself before me in a kind of sacrifice. She was willing to share her whole self with me, it seemed, even if in the end we still both walked away alone. And I was still hurt and pissed, but I wasn't an asshole. If she was finally offering, I was going to take her up on it.
Okay.
When can we talk? Now? No, I replied. I couldn't talk to her right now, no matter how much I wanted to hear her voice. I still needed more time. In my reply, I suggested the next day, after work, not even considering that it might have to be a phone call. I wasn't sure when she was coming back to work.
Okay. See u tomorrow. My heart leapt and then took a nosedive into my stomach with the notion that I'd have to face Bella tomorrow. I jumped off my bed and walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water. Relax, dickhead. She's just another person. Who you love like a fool and would do just about anything for. Stupid ass. I sat down and turned on the TV to watch the news, trying desperately to calm my now frazzled nerves. It wasn't a big deal. Just keep repeating that. When my eyelids started to droop, I switched off the television and refilled my glass, before brushing my teeth and stripping down. Pulling back the covers, I heard a soft thud as my forgotten cell phone landed on the rug.
Wait! Edward? Bella had left me another text soon after I'd sent her mine. And then, there was another, sent about 20 minutes after that one. Her pain was tangible and raw, and I felt every ounce of it. It matched my own.
Edward, I'm so sorry.
I slept like absolute shit that night. My dreams were dark and vivid and featured a distraught Bella, an evil Tanya and a very confused version of me. When my alarm went off the next morning, I opened my eyes to a bedroom warzone. My pillows were on the floor, along with my blankets and sheets, and my mattress had shifted off the box spring. The lamp on my night table was knocked over and my t-shirt was missing. What the fuck happened to me?
With barely any time to spare, I got into the office and immediately got to work. Just after eight, Esme knocked on my door, and almost had to pull me from my chair. She said she and Bella had something to discuss with me. Instantly, the ball of nerves had settled back into my gut. The short walk down the hall to her office felt like the final walk on death row. I followed Esme through the door like a puppy, with my head down to delay the inevitable. My other boss took the chair to my left, and I finally looked up to meet Bella's gaze as I moved to take the other seat. She looked beautiful, as always, wearing a navy blue skirt and a crisp, white button-down. Her chestnut hair was swept up as it usually was, but today it was loosely held off her neck, with a few curly wisps falling from the loose bun. Her face was hopeful, but markedly reserved. She looked like she was trying to determine whether to stand her ground or flee. I felt the same way.
A few minutes later, I was back in my office, reeling from Bella and Esme's announcement. Bella would be leaving S&P to open a new office in Portland. Portland. That made things quite clear to me - Bella and I were done, and this was her way of dealing. She was running away from me. Even though I had been the one to end things, I'd held out some hope that maybe we could reconnect; maybe there was a way for us to work things out. But this move spoke volumes.
At the end of the day, Bella came into my office, and I couldn't avoid calling her decision into question. She explained that it had been in the works for some time, but thankfully she did admit to the timing being perfect, considering we were no longer together. Since there was nothing more to say, I got ready to leave.
"Edward, wait. I was hoping we could talk more," she said as I gathered my coat and briefcase. "There's so much more you need to know, even if this is over."
"Is that what you want, Bella?" Every fiber of my being wanted this war between us to be over. I wanted to hold her, kiss her, be with her. But she had to want it, too, and I wasn't sure if she did. So I waited.
"No, Edward," she said softly, moving closer. "That's not what I want at all. Not at all." The silence that followed and the space between us was almost unbearable. But Bella didn't want this to be over, and her answer allowed my hope to be reborn. I agreed to follow her home, so that we could talk more. Bella was nervous, clumsy and adorable as she prepared dinner. It took every bit of restraint not to kiss her; but I was not going to even consider doing that until I had answers. I just couldn't - not yet.
"Edward, I haven't been very careful with your heart. And it seems I've forgotten how to use my own." Bella's admission seemed to appear from thin air, and the frankness of it surprised me. And then she kept going, and floored me once again. "I needed a reality check - a personality adjustment. So…thank you."
Bella told me she loved me - absolutely. That I made her a better person, and that she had struggled immensely in the short time we had been apart. It gave me some small consolation to know that I hadn't been the only one to suffer. And Bella said she needed me, and that the knowledge of that had frightened her.
"You told me I was scared, and you were right," she said. "I'm scared of everything: loving you as much as I do, needing you so much, hurting you so badly that we can't get back what we had. But I can't be afraid for the rest of my life, and I'm tired of running. I've been carrying around these ghosts for so long, and I think I'm finally ready to let them go."
It was such a relief to hear her say those words. Bella was finally willing to give herself a break, and maybe, to give us a chance. I couldn't wait any longer - I had to touch her. With my fingers, I massaged her hand, and our touch was electric, just as it always had been. Bella seemed to be done speaking, and I wanted to ensure she knew I appreciated the gravity of what she had given me.
"Thank you for being open with me," I said, squeezing her hand. "I can imagine how difficult that must have been for you. It means so much that you trust me with those things, Bella." In turn, I was honest about how Bella's accusations had affected me, and that I'd reacted in anger. She needed to know that there was no one else. There never will be, really.
"Bella, you shouldn't have to be alone, just because you haven't got it all figured out yet," I said. "No one's perfect. And I want to help you make peace with whatever haunts you. We can do it together."
As soon as the words leaped from my mouth, I knew they were true. I wanted to be Bella's shoulder, her rock, her support system. I wanted to be all of that for her, and more. We were both very imperfect creatures, but we were perfectly flawed together. I loved her and I wanted her in my life. And I told her so.
"I love you too, Edward," she whispered. "And I want you in my life, too. Always."
"Promise?" With my question, I finally gathered the courage to kiss her. And when I did, everything felt right again. All of the misshapen, missing puzzle pieces found their rightful places. The connection that Bella and I shared, I knew now, could withstand our own egos and insecurities. It had to. We both needed to travel the road back to us - together.
"Promise," she said, before kissing me back.
A/N: So, what did you think of poor, emo Sweetward's version of events? I hope it wasn't too repetitive, but I felt he needed to be heard, since Edward doesn't share what happens to him with anyone.
Don't forget to visit the HtS thread on Twilighted to submit your ideas for the one-shot! http:/www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=9356
And if you'd like to check out Bella's corset, go here and then click on the color swatches to find with blue one. . .
Please leave comments/reviews! I love them like Edward's drunken snorting! Haha!