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Sunflower Fanfiction & Mari, thank you for everything.
Thank you to LittleGreyAche for sending me the picture that inspired this story all those months ago.
To everyone reading, reviewing, sharing the love for this story, thank you so much.
Enjoy.
Stripped Desire – Chapter 18: Abstract
"The past is never where you think you left it."
Katherine Anne Porter.~
Wine is bliss.
Freedom is addicting.
Recklessness is fun.
"Everything's blurry," I say without realizing I'm speaking. The words weigh on my tongue.
Edward chuckles. "Everything hurts."
He stops laughing and runs his fingers down the side of my face. I stare at him unabashed, watching his concerned face.
"Do you still have feelings for him?" he asks.
I snort or something. "I never had feelings for him."
"Ah. I see."
I close my eyes, not wanting to see his reaction to my pathetic behavior.
"It's okay, Isabella," he says after a while. "It wasn't meant to be."
"It should've been. It could have been so easy. I wouldn't be, or feel so alone." I sigh and throw my arm over my head. Edward plays with my fingers.
"You're not alone. I'm here."
"My parents hate me."
"I'm sure that's not true."
"You still call me Isabella."
"Per your request."
"I was acting like a smart ass. I hate that name."
"It's a beautiful name. It suits you."
"I like it when you say it."
"Isabella. Isabella. Isabella." He punctuates it each time with a kiss, my name falling from his lips like a prayer.
My clouded brain explodes.
I kiss him.
"You're such a good kisser," I mumble against his lips. He chuckles.
"You're so drunk," he says, but kisses me back.
"Let's get you into bed. You need to sleep it off," he says after we stop, standing up. I reach for him with my eyes closed, until he takes my hand and bites my fingers.
He carries me to bed and helps me to get into one of his t-shirts. I steal a few kisses from him as he does, earning chuckles and playful nips.
"Why aren't we having sex?" I ask when he lies next to me. I'm aware of the whiny tone of my voice.
"Because I don't want you to regret it in the morning," he says.
I close my eyes and yawn.
"I wouldn't regret it," I say.
"I wish that were true."
It's the last thing I hear before falling asleep.
I wake up alone with a raging headache. The first couple of minutes are excruciating, trying to figure out where I am and how I got here.
When I give myself a moment to figure it out, I cringe.
Michael's wedding invitation.
A bottle of my best wine.
Edward.
I had never been drunk enough to forget what I've done the night before, and for the first time in my life, I wish I could use that as my excuse.
I groan, hiding my face in my hands.
"Hangover killing you yet?" Edward asks, strolling to the bedroom with a glass of something.
He sits in front of me, close enough to touch. I open my eyes to see him looking well-rested and beautiful.
"Drink this," he says, handing me a glass.
I scrunch up my nose at the smell. "What's this?"
"It'll make you feel better. I promise."
The weird taste of the liquid is worth the instant improvement, and I gulp down the entire glass in seconds.
"What the hell was that?" I ask, amazed at how much better I feel already.
"Did you really think I would let you get drunk without having a magic potion to cure you afterwards?" he asks.
I look away from him, feeling guilt and shame all around me. He touches my cheek until I meet his eyes again. "Are you feeling better?"
I nod.
He gives me a long look before speaking. "I talked to Alice," he says. I cringe. "I'm sorry. She called first. She sounded worried, but she's fine now. She just wanted to make sure nothing had happened."
I stare at him. "I came all the way here, alone at night and got drunk. That happened!"
His eyes cloud with something I can't name.
"Well, at least you're safe," he says and stands up.
The silence that follows is tense. I mutter something about needing the bathroom and leave him standing there looking everywhere, but at me.
I take my time in the bathroom, aware that this will be a lost work day. No point in rushing now.
"I assume you'll be going," he says when I walk out to the living room.
"Edward—"
"Don't," he says.
His tone is different, heavier. It takes me aback for a moment before it hits me. I hasten to explain.
"I know I should be thanking you for taking care of me and everything," I say.
He shakes his head. "That's not what this is about."
"I don't understand."
"Do I have to spell it out for you?"
I straighten my back. "Watch how you speak to me, Edward." My voice comes out softer than I intended to, but the intent is clear.
He runs his hands through his hair in anger. "I know you've been hurt," he says. "I get you being scared. I understand you're cautious." He takes a few steps in my direction. "What I don't understand is why you're ashamed, as if what we've done is wrong, or dirty."
He looks at me and I open my mouth to say something but he beats me to it, his tone softer. "I can be patient. I've been patient. I can wait until you trust me." He touches my wrist. "But I will not be a little secret. You will not make me feel like a criminal so that you can feel better about yourself. We're adults."
"I am not ashamed," I say, gritting my teeth.
He snorts. "Please."
I ignore it.
"And I'm not scared. I'm fucking terrified!" His eyes widen and I take the opportunity to put some distance between us. "I'm terrified of you, of how you make me feel, of how much you could hurt me," I say, shaking my head.
"Of what your parents will think?"
My shoulders sag and I lean against a wall for support. It all comes down to that.
"I've tried so hard to be independent, to not care, but I just…" I trail off, hiding my face in my hands.
"It's okay," he says, standing in front of me, hesitant before putting his arms around me.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you," he says, kissing my hair.
"I'm sorry for being me, I guess."
"Don't ever apologize for that, Isabella. Not to me."
"I'm sorry for coming to whine about my ex," I say, laughing a nervous laugh.
"Yeah, you can apologize for that," he says.
His tone is serious.
"So, how about that dinner?" James asks me once we're done.
I laugh and stand up, ready to dismiss him. He frowns. "I'm serious. I'm asking you out," he says.
I sit back down, surprised by the seriousness of his tone.
"Thank you, but no."
"I'm not trying to be disrespectful, but why not? We've known each other for a while. We're both single."
James looks at me with a puzzled look on his face. It's obvious he thought my answer would be a sure yes.
"Not quite," I say. "I'm seeing someone."
The smile on my face is inevitable and even though I choose my words with care, I know James' ego has been hurt.
He leaves without much fuss and I'm left alone with my thoughts.
Edward and I have gone out every day this week for lunch dates. He has brought me coffee every morning along with a sweet treat and a good morning note.
I've been walking on cloud nine even when I try to contain it.
Alice has been teasing me non-stop.
Tonight, Edward and I are going for drinks after work to fill the void of our Friday night sessions. And well, because we want to.
We meet at a bar close by, and kiss hello.
"Tell me about Michael," he says, after our drinks arrive at the table. I take a sip of my glass of wine, knowing he was bound to ask for more information at some point.
It doesn't make it any easier.
"We met in college, got engaged, I broke it up and came here."
He arches an eyebrow. "I'm sure there's more to it."
I take a deep breath. "He knew I wasn't happy about living my family's lifestyle. He swore he didn't want to follow the political career he was destined for. We made plans to get out of Washington—to rebel together, I guess. And then…"
"He chickened out," Edward says.
I nod, remembering how the news had weighed on my body like a burden.
"I should've seen it coming, you know? That's what hurt the most—how shocked I was."
Edward frowns. "You said you didn't love him."
I sigh, shaking my head. "I loved the idea of leaving. Of fooling my parents into thinking they'd gotten what they wanted," I say. "In the end they didn't get what they wanted, so I guess they still lost."
"Yeah, but so did you."
I don't tell him that looking at him, the last thing I feel right now is that I've lost.
Thanks for reading. Special thanks to Fallingsnow Winter, Drotuno, PULLMYDAISEYTOO and the Sage's Girls Group for recommending the story. I hope I'm not forgetting anyone. :)
Tipsy Bella was so much fun to write. I hope you liked.
See you next time. xo