CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: WILLOW

The Town

After

I am a twenty-nine year old student. I scan the room, searching for anything that will convince me I belong here. But I feel like a different species.

And yet somehow, it feels good to be here. More than that it feels important. Or maybe I feel important doing it.

I have a backpack and a notebook and a hundred pens in case they all run out of ink. My hands don't look as rough as they used to, but they'll always be those of a working man.

I write everything down. Everything.

The kid next to me keeps looking at me like I have two heads but he doesn't matter. I can do this. I want to do this.

After class, a group of them are talking about going to some house party tonight. For a moment I worry about what to say if someone invites me. But nobody is inviting the old guy to a college party. I almost laugh at the thought.

I don't have or want that kind of life.

I stop for a real cup of coffee before I head to my meeting. A few of the regulars are no-shows and I spend the entire time wondering where they are and what they're swallowing. It's late by the time I get home. Too late to call Bella.

I toss and turn on Jasper's fold-out couch, a nervous current running through my veins.

I can feel it. In my whole body. The urge to never return to that classroom. I don't belong there.

My mind is a traitor. Jasper calls it self-sabotage.

I've failed at so many things. I don't want to fail at this. I can't.

When I finally drift off, I have dreams about a different kind of life.

And in the morning, I'm filled with conviction.

I press my fingers together, holding them in front of my face, until I can see my heartbeat in my hands. Determined to stop being a coward, I dial Bella's number. She picks up after the first ring.

I smile at the sound of her voice. Maybe because I can tell she's already smiling and I like it when we match.

"I had my first class yesterday."

"I know," she laughs. "How did it go?" Sometimes I forget that she listens to every word I say.

"It was good. I think. I don't know. It was kind of weird to be there with a bunch of kids."

"Edward?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm proud of you."

I'm smiling so wide, I probably look like a fool. I don't know how to respond but she makes me feel brave. "What are you guys doing tomorrow?"

"No plans."

"Do you think... Do you think I could see her?"

"Edward—"

"Bella, you said. You were the one who said I could see her." You said.

"I know."

"Maybe we could go to the beach."

She doesn't answer.

"I mean we don't have to. Is she too little to go to the beach?" I don't know these things. I wish I could see Bella's face right now.

"She loves the beach." She's Bella's daughter.

There's an awkward silence and I hate it.

"Tell me what you're afraid of, Bella."

Her response takes forever. I am afraid of her fears.

"I'm afraid she's going to love you, Edward. I know what it feels like to lose you and I refuse to do that to her."

I want to promise her a million things, but I don't dare.

I can hear a shriek in the background. And I pray that the sound of my daughter's voice on the other side of a phone line is not the closest I will ever get.

"Let me think about it, okay? I have some errands to run. I'll call you this afternoon when she's napping and we can talk."

We hang up and I try not to feel defeated. She's afraid of me.

Jasper's out and I don't belong in his house. I miss having my own space. I miss my bed. I miss the one night that Bella lay next to me. Under me. And above me.

Things between us have been undefined. Which is probably my fault. I've taken her to dinner. I've kissed her goodnight. I don't know how to tell her what I want. Because I want everything and she's not ready to hear it. She may never be ready.

I need to get out of this strange house before I drive myself crazy.

I go to the grocery store across town because they have the best French bread. I care about things like French bread and I'm almost sure that I'm not pretending.

The store is crowded, the aisles filled with other morons who do their grocery shopping on Saturdays.

I go straight to the cereal aisle. I've been eating a lot of cereal. I like the ones on the middle shelf; the cereal they market for toddlers.

It suddenly feels like a million needles are poking at my skin. I stand statue-still, afraid to move or breathe or be alive.

I know that voice. "Hey, Will, which one do you want?"

Bella has her back to me as she holds up two boxes of cereal. But she's not the one my eyes focus on.

I stand paralyzed, people pushing past me with their baskets full of groceries. Because sitting in the front of that cart is a little girl without a father.

And her face.

I'm dying. I'm going to die right here and I'll never get closer than this.

Her face.

She's serious, looking back and forth between the two boxes of breakfast cereal, her wispy hair in her eyes. She has the most perfect little girl face.

She studies them. Until she's not looking at the boxes anymore. She's peering around them.

She's looking right at me.

And then her chubby arm reaches out and points. "That's my daddy."

"What did you say?" I whisper. As if she could hear me. And it can't be real. Because she's not supposed to know me.

Bella turns around slowly, a deer in headlights.

There's not enough air. We stand on either side of aisle three staring at each other, neither of us saying a word. And when I look back to that little girl, she's staring too. But not at me. Her eyes are trained on Bella.

I've imagined this moment a thousand times. I've imagined her eyes and her hair and her nose. I've stared up at the ceiling for hours wondering what she'd do when she saw me for the first time. If she'd ignore me or hate me or decide she didn't want me.

But I never imagined it like this. Surrounded by strangers.

I never imagined that she would take one look at me and she'd know me.

I force my feet to move. Because this is happening. It's happening right now and I don't want to miss it.

I meet my daughter for the first time in front of the Cheerios.

Bella picks her up out of the cart and holds her on her hip. Almost protectively. Like I'm a stranger. I am. I'm a stranger. But she knew me.

She's so small and so serious, her expression matching her mother's. Bella won't look at me, she only looks at our daughter, concern all over her face.

The littlest hands reach up to Bella's face, framing her eyes. Bella looks down at her with a smile, but I can see the worry.

Those little hands force Bella to look at me. "That's my daddy?" she asks.

"Yes," Bella tells her, quieter than I would like.

"My daddy has hair on his face?"

"Yes."

"Like my picture?"

"Yes."

Her eyes are back on me. "Where's your blue shirt, Daddy?"

Daddy.

I have no idea what she's talking about but I wish I was wearing a blue shirt.

"Hi, Willow."

She points at me again. "That's my daddy." But she's not saying it to Bella. She's talking to me.

"Hi, baby."

She shakes her head. "I'm big."

I'm crying. Because she doesn't want to be called a baby. Because I missed that part.

"Daddy's sad?" She asks again and again, waiting for an answer.

"No, baby, I'm not sad."

And I can feel the smile on my face. And I can't stop it or change it or be anything else.

I'm right in front of her, inches from her eyes. I can't get close enough.

She reaches out for me, placing both hands on my face. Her eyes are wide as she runs her fingers over my stubble. And then she laughs. She laughs and I'm so in love with her that it feels like drowning. I want to hold her tight.

Before I know what's happening, her little arms are wrapped around my neck. Bella is still holding on to her as Willow puts her mouth right up to my ear and whisper-shouts, "You took a long time."

"I know."

She doesn't let go and I'm not sure what to do with my arms.

So I grab ahold of both of them. My daughter and my wife. I hold on to them for dear life.

My whole body is shaking.

"She's beautiful," I say against Bella's hair, barely able to get the words out.

"We don't have to do this here. In the middle of the grocery store. People are staring."

"Let them. I don't care."

I squeeze them tight, my hands wrapped around Bella, our daughter pressed between us.

And then she's holding me right back and I'm sure I'm not imagining it.

Willow leans against my chest, her ear to my neck. She startles abruptly, taking my face in her hands again. "You like Cheerios? You like Cheerios, Daddy?"

"Yeah, I like Cheerios."

She turns to Bella, "Daddy likes Cheerios."

"Okay, do you want the Cheerios?"

"Daddy likes Cheerios."

Bella's eyes start to well up as she sets the offending cereal in the cart.

I've somehow let go of them both and all I want to do is grab them back.

Bella tries to put Willow back in the cart but she starts kicking her feet, refusing to do any such thing.

"Will, I can't carry you and push the cart."

"Daddy holds me," she says like it's the most obvious solution in the world.

She reaches for me and I reach right back. And then Bella and I are both holding on to her, in some sort of awkward tug-of-war.

"Please," I beg her. "Please."

Bella lets go reluctantly, her eyes holding too many emotions. She smiles but I can't tell if she means it.

I'm holding my daughter. She's wrapped around me like a little monkey and it's better than anything.

She keeps looking up at me and then putting her head back on my shoulder. I can't help but laugh. And then she's laughing too and it feels like our own inside joke.

I leave my empty cart and follow Bella to the checkout line even though I don't have anything that I came for.

Because I have everything that I came for.

I follow Bella to their car, a warm little body clutching my shirt.

Bella takes our baby from me like it's nothing. I let go without meaning to. I watch as she straps her into her car seat. I load their groceries in the back and it's the life I could have had.

I don't know what to do now, other than run after their car. I lean up against the door as if that will somehow keep Bella from ever driving away.

"Get in, Daddy," our daughter shouts through the open window, laughing like I'm the funniest person she's ever seen.

Bella and I stare at each other over the roof of her car and my whole life is in her hands.

She bites the inside of her cheek. "Do you want to come over?"

"Yes." I think I say it before she even finishes the question. "Yes." In case she didn't hear me the first time.

"It's her nap time."

She knows all of these things about being a mother.

"I'll just follow you?"

She nods, reaching for her door handle.

"Bella, wait."

I rush around to her side of the car and wrap her up, hugging her tight for what she has just given me. She doesn't react right away. But then her arms curl under mine, her hands clutching at my shoulder blades, her face buried in my chest.

And we just breathe. Until she lets go of me. I peek my head into the window and smile at my daughter. She smiles back and covers her face up with her hands.

I don't think I stop smiling the entire time I follow them home. I pull into their driveway for the first time and I'm out of my car and next to theirs in an instant.

"My mom isn't home."

"Oh." She lives with them.

I watch as she unbuckles Will from her car seat and sets her on her hip. I carry the grocery bags and it almost feels real.

I try not to stare at every picture on the wall. I try to just be here with them. Because I've already missed so much.

Will doesn't take a nap. She runs around the living room pulling out every toy she owns, showing me each one before dropping it on my lap so she can go find another.

"She's showing off."

My face hurts from smiling.

We order pizza even though Bella has a fridge full of groceries. Will barely eats two bites before she's running around again. She never stops moving.

"Time for jammies, Will."

She sprints down the hall and disappears into a bedroom, reappearing minutes later in pajamas covered in race cars.

She climbs over my lap and into the space that separates Bella and me. I'm not the only one grinning like a fool.

"Tell me a little story," she says, her hands on my arm.

"She likes hearing stories from when I was a little girl," Bella tries to explain. "She calls them little stories."

"I'll tell you one," she says to Will.

"No, Daddy tells it."

I smile at her, trying to hide the panic. I can't think of a single story from my childhood that I would actually want my daughter to hear.

But there was good buried under all of the bad. There was.

"You don't have to," Bella says, trying to give me an out. But I don't want it.

"When I was a little boy my dad took me to the racetrack once."

Will nods her head in approval, her eyes big and shining. I don't look at Bella.

"We sat high up in the stands and my dad, he bought me a box of Cracker Jacks. And we watched the cars on the dirt track until our eyes were burning. We stayed until the last race of the night and then we went back into the pit and met the drivers."

Will leans against my side and I can do this.

"This one driver, he had this huge trophy, taller than me even. He let me try on his helmet and sit in the driver's seat of his car. He just picked me up and I slid in through the window and held on to the steering wheel with both hands.

"My dad said we had to go home, it was getting late. But that race car driver, he called me back and he told me to watch the birds in the sky. That's how he learned to drive.

"And I thought he was right about the birds. So I watched them and I watched them and I'd get on my bike after school and I'd try and race the cars." A surge of panic sweeps over me. "But don't ever do that. It's not safe to race cars with your bike."

I look down at her face, wishing I hadn't told her this story at all. But she's fast asleep. Her little body slumps against my side and I wasn't prepared for this feeling. I wasn't expecting to love her this hard and this fast.

I just stare at her sleeping face.

"Did that really happen?" Bella asks, her eyes glassy. And I almost forgot she was here.

"I'm not going to lie to her, Bella. Even stupid shit like that."

"It's not stupid."

"Yeah, well..."

"I'm going to carry her to bed," Bella whispers.

Before I have the guts to ask if I can do it, she has scooped our daughter up. I watch them disappear from the room, a hollow ache building in my lungs.

I want to follow them, but I don't. I stay put. This isn't my house.

Bella returns within a few minutes, her expression unreadable. I want to read her mind, to crawl inside her skin and see through her eyes.

"It's getting late," she says.

"Bella, tell me what's going through your head right now. Please."

I used to be the one who kept everything to myself. I don't know how to be when she's like this, even if it's my doing.

"It's surreal to see you with her."

"Like a hallucination?"

"Yeah."

"Then it's surreal to be with her."

We talk about our daughter. Her name is Willow. She's nearly three years old and she's beautiful. She's everything I thought I didn't deserve.

"It's getting late."

"Can I just say goodbye to her?"

"Edward, she's asleep."

"I know. I just want to see her before I go. Bella, please."

"Alright."

I follow her down the hall. She stands in the doorway and lets me pass.

Her room is purple.

She sleeps in a big bed.

I sit down on the edge of her bed, hoping I won't wake her but secretly wishing that I do. Her cheeks are pink, her hair going in every direction. She's already kicked off most of her blankets.

Next to her bed is a picture frame. Of a man I used to know. He's wearing a blue shirt.

I reach out to touch Willow's face, but hesitate.

"You're so big. I'm sorry for missing it."

When I turn around, Bella looks so conflicted.

I go to her.

"Are you okay?"

She crumbles in front of me.

"Bella, what's wrong?"

"I don't know."

"It was kind of a big day."

Her fists clench the front of my shirt and I wish she'd talk to me.

I kiss her hair.

"Please tell me what's going through your head."

"All I can feel is this overwhelming guilt."

What?

"Was I wrong?"

"About what?"

"Was I wrong for wanting to keep her away from you?"

"No," I promise her, kissing her face. "No."

"How can you say that?"

"You were protecting her."

"What if I was only protecting myself?"

"Don't do this, Bella."

She shakes her head and keeps the rest of her thoughts locked up tight. I follow her back to the living room and I pace while she sits.

Her hands run over her face. "Are you sure you want to be in her life?"

"I've never been more sure about anything."

"You can't change your mind." She looks up at me, her eyes so wide and desperate.

"She's going to wake up asking for you and she's going to want to pour you a bowl of Cheerios and I need to know what to tell her that won't be a lie."

"Tell her I'll be there in ten minutes, Bella. Tell her she can call me on the fucking phone any time and I'll be there for Cheerios."

"She's too little to make phone calls, Edward."

Fucking shit. "I know. Just please."

She runs her hands through her hair instead of answering me. "Good night, Edward." Just like that.

"Yeah. A couch is calling my name." I don't know what I was expecting. But I know what I was hoping for.

"Who am I to you?" I ask her, just as she asked me so many years ago. Before today it felt like we were making progress but in this moment it feels like we're nothing.

She shakes her head, a somber laugh escaping her lips.

"Am I just the man you kiss?"

"No."

But I need more than that.

"Am I just the father of your child?"

Another no.

"Am I the love of your life or the one who broke your heart?"

"You're both of those things, Edward. You're all of it."

I nod, my voice in my throat.

"Tell me what you want right now."

She turns away from me.

"I want to be the one you talk to when you're falling apart."

"Okay," I tell her, moving closer. "What else?"

"I want you to be there when Will is having an epic tantrum and I feel like I'm going to lose my mind."

"Okay." I stand directly behind her without touching her even though her touch is all I can think about.

"I want you to be there when dinner is long over and the dishes are washed."

She wants me to be there.

She turns, hiding her face in my chest. "I want to feel you in every inch of my skin and not have it be a dream when I wake up in the morning."

I wrap her up in my arms and hold her tight against me. "I want that too."

"Which part?"

"Every part. I want to take care of you." But it's more than that. "I want you to let me."

I watch her mouth. Her teeth slide back and forth along her upper lip. I love her teeth. And her lips. And her face. And her bones. I love her whole life.

"I want you to take care of me even when I don't let you," she whispers, staring at my chest before looking up into my eyes.

I hold her by the shoulders. "I don't know what that means. Tell me what that means."

"It means I don't want you to give up."

I let out a breath. She doesn't want me to give up. Maybe that's all she's ever wanted from me.

"But what do you want?" she asks, like it's a plea.

I have to get this right. I open my mouth and close it a hundred times.

"It's not a trick question, Edward. I'm only asking for the truth."

The truth. "I want you. I want her. I want more words, but I think those are the most important ones."

She laughs even though I'm not trying to be funny. Her eyes crinkle at the corners. I brush a stray tear from her cheek, cradling her face in my palm. She covers my hand with her own, holding me to her.

"We have a daughter," I tell her. As if she's oblivious.

"I know," she laughs again. Another tear escapes, disappearing under my thumb.

My hand slides into her hair as she rests her face under my chin.

"Will you call me when she wakes up and I'll come over for Cheerios?"

Her lips move against my neck. "Stay."

-HL-

A/N:

It's been a long time. I know this. Thanks for sticking with this story. It's looking like four more chapters. Maybe I'm just not ready to say goodbye?

To Susan and Kim, for all of the reasons.