CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: THE MORNING

The Town

After

I am in her bed. Stay, she said. She said. So I did.

I watch her sleep. I never did that enough. I should have watched her sleep when I had the chance. Maybe that's what this is, my chance.

I watch her until my eyes burn.

She has these sheets that are like nothing else on earth. They feel almost as good as the sliver of her hip against my fingers. I want to kiss her awake. And this feeling, this want, want, want, is so familiar and so new.

The clock reads 3:47 am and my fear of fucking this up lurks in the corners of her bedroom. Sleep seems like the first step in losing it all. Because this isn't one last goodbye in the house that was once ours. This is me in her bed, in her house with our daughter asleep down the hall.

She makes a noise in her sleep. "You awake?" I whisper. And then louder, "Bella?" because I don't like being alone with these thoughts.

She rolls towards me, my hand slipping under the edge of her shirt. "Sleep," she says. It doesn't sound like a suggestion.

She scoots closer, against me, resting her arm over my chest and I have to actually force myself to breathe. And then I'm breathing too quickly, but I refuse to hyperventilate in her bed.

I can feel her own breath against my neck, slow and steady, and I want to be like her. More than that, I want to be beside her.

And it hits me, that I have that, however fleeting it may be, I have her beside me. And I'm lying here waiting for what I want, what I have, to disappear.

Our daughter, she knows me. And she might even love me, as impossible as that seems.

I close my eyes and try to imagine tomorrow, next week, next year. But I can't see any of it.

So I just hold on to Bella. And I let myself sleep.

Seconds later I'm blinking awake, the sun already shining in.

She is kissing me. The kind of kissing that's so soft and slow that I'm not even sure it's real at first. But she's kissing me, her lips pressed to my neck.

I lie still until I can't anymore. I roll towards her, on top of her. I cage her in and she smiles.

"You're in my bed," she says like she didn't lead me here last night. Like she didn't watch me strip down to my underwear and slide under the sheets with her. Like she didn't curl into my arms in the middle of the night.

"I'm in your bed."

Her hands slide over my ribs and around my back. She wants to feel the weight of me. She's not the only one who wants to make sure it's all real.

I kiss her on the mouth. Because we've always been good at the kissing part.

My hands on her face, I kiss her until she can't breathe.

And I want to fuck her.

"Our daughter will be up any minute," she says against my lips. Our daughter. "We better get dressed."

Then she's kissing me like she's forgotten all about the little girl down the hall. But I don't want to forget.

I try to catch my breath, my restless hands running over her forehead and through her hair.

"Thank you," I say, because it's long overdue. "Thank you."

She doesn't ask what for. She knows I mean everything.

I roll back to my side of the bed even though it goes against every instinct I have.

Because we have a daughter. And if this is going to work, to really work, I will live in her bed and her body until one of us leaves this world. There will be plenty of time for fucking.

We lie side by side and try to calm our breathing.

"This is the longest I've ever been sober." I don't know why I say it.

Her smile embarrasses me. "Are you proud?" she wants to know. I'm not sure I know.

"I'm… afraid."

She doesn't ask me what I'm afraid of. Our fears are the same.

Will comes barreling through the door, stopping in her tracks when she sees me.

"Hi, Willow."

And then she smiles. "You're pretty, Daddy."

I think I laugh. "Boys aren't pretty."

"You're my daddy in my picture?" she wants to know. And it hits me how young she is. And how little she understands. Yesterday seemed too easy. Maybe because it was.

I watch her climb up onto the bed. "You want Cheerios, Daddy?"

I look to Bella and she shrugs but she's smiling and this is the tomorrow I couldn't see. "Yeah, I want Cheerios."

Will slides down off the bed and goes running from the room, her jammies bagging in the back.

Bella slips from the bed and starts to fidget with some things on her dresser.

"Bella?"

She turns, her eyes giving everything away. It's all hitting her too.

"I am proud. Of a lot of things," I try to explain.

"I'm glad." She's trying not to smile and I don't know why.

I leave her perfect bed and pull my jeans on.

I feel like she's waiting for something and I wish I knew what it was.

I reach for her hand. I get a smile then, even if it's just a small one. She grabs my other hand with more force than I think she means to.

We stand here holding hands and it feels like all we need to calm ourselves down.

She steps closer, her lips pressing to the hollow of my neck.

"I love your mouth." I say it without thinking.

She freezes for a moment before her fingers tighten around mine and she kisses my skin. Just once.

"I'm glad you're here, Edward." And I want to get down on my knees and beg her to let me stay forever.

"Daddy!" Will screeches from the other room.

Bella's breath against my neck, "You better get out there."

I squeeze her hands and kiss her forehead, her cheek, her mouth before letting her go.

I throw a shirt on and go in search of our daughter.

Her house is different in the light of morning. It's so bright and lived in.

There is cereal all over the kitchen floor.

Will stands in the middle of them. "I made a mess."

I can only laugh. "You did."

She runs off and reappears dragging a broom and dustpan. "I sweep and you sweep it up." Which apparently means I follow her around with the dustpan as she picks the Cheerios up one by one. She keeps eating them before I can stop her.

She's such a whole person already. Maybe Bella is the reason. Maybe she just is who she is.

It takes us a while to clean up. But I would gladly pick up cereal with my daughter for the rest of my life. I'm not sure how long Bella stands in the doorway, watching the two of us.

I pour three bowls and Will carries mine to the table. She doesn't drop it and I wonder how she knows how to do so much.

We all sit. We sit at the table like a family. Will eats three bites before she chews. She's a chipmunk and I can't stop staring at her.

I watch her eat an entire bowl of cereal, milk dripping down her chin.

My breakfast is soggy but I don't care. I just want to stare at her face. She grins at me before running from the kitchen.

"She usually sits at the table for thirty seconds."

"You've done a good job with her, Bella."

"Yeah, well, she's a good kid."

I wash the bowls and she dries.

There is an awkwardness between us that didn't exist in her bed. Last night she said stay, but now I want to stay forever and I don't know if that's what she meant.

I hold on to the edge of the sink. "I don't want to leave," I tell her. Because if we're going to have any chance at all, I'm going to have to say what I'm thinking.

"Will doesn't want you to leave."

I exhale. "And you?"

Silence.

"Bella?"

She chews the inside of her cheek.

"Just be honest with me, Bella. Even if it's not what I want to hear."

"I don't want you to leave either." The words spill out of her. "I just want you to stay. I just… want you."

She just wants me. And maybe we aren't so different.

I smile and I'm sure I look like a cocky bastard but I feel like I'm seventeen and it's the first time she noticed me.

"You want me?" I tease her, pulling at her shirt, bringing her closer. "I've always wanted you."

And I know there are a million things to talk about and I know it's not as simple as loving her and I know I have nothing of value to offer her, but none of that seems important. My faults don't seem important.

Her hands slide up my chest, around my neck and into my hair. I hold her and I kiss her and I stop missing her because she's right here.

I hear Will's little footsteps as she runs down the hall and when I can manage to stop kissing Bella long enough to look, she is standing there staring at us.

"You kissing my Daddy?" she asks Bella, her hands on her hips, her head tilted to the side.

I can feel the laughter bubbling out of the woman who used to be my wife. "Yeah, I am," she tells Will. And she's not ashamed.

Will scowls at Bella before bursting into hysterical laughter and demanding to be picked up. And it's like the grocery store except we aren't fighting over her. We're holding our daughter between us and she's wiggling and laughing. She has a hundred elbows.

This is what it feels like to be happy.

A/N:

I know. It's been forever. Thanks for sticking it out. Only one more chapter left. It's written and will post shortly.

Thanks for the help, girls.