BPOV
"Vanilla latte, iced, please." I handed a ten-dollar bill to the barista and pocketed the change. I walked with my drink to the furthest empty corner table and sat. I pulled a thick paperback from my messenger bag and proceeded to get lost in 11th century England.
Not ten minutes later, I sensed a prickling on the back of my neck. I glanced up from my book and watched Edward stroll in, headed straight for the counter. I felt a red-hot blush creeping up my neck, and I got flustered as fuck. I couldn't decide whether to try and draw his attention or just hide behind the paperback.
Before I could make up my mind, he turned to me and froze. There was no fucking way I could ignore him now, so I opted for a slight smile, and a half-assed wave. My fingers tried to wiggle in some cute way that just came out awkward as shit. Edward nodded in acknowledgment and, drink in hand, made his way over to me slowly.
"Hey, Bella." He fidgeted and I caught a random phone number scribbled on the cup's coffee collar. Tanya. The barista. Slut.
"Hi, Edward. Um, want to sit?" I gestured at the empty chair next to me before remembering I'd put my bag on it. I hastily stashed it under the table between my feet, and Edward lowered himself slowly into the chair.
"So… what are you doing here?" he asked, tossing a nervous look over his shoulder.
"Nothing, really. Just some reading. You?"
"Oh, I'm uh, meeting someone." Edward ran his hand through his hair as he sipped from his cup. "Fuck, it's hot!" he muttered.
My stomach had plummeted a little at his words. Meeting someone. Shit. But why should that bother me? I had no claim on him or his time. Still, I couldn't shake the uncomfortable ache that gnawed inside me.
"Hey, Cullen!" We both glanced up at the sound of his last name, and I stared as a really attractive redhead walked through the door of the Starbucks. And I mean really attractive. I visibly cringed. Was this who Edward was waiting for?
While I tried to sort through the mental barrage, the girl reached our table. Then she stooped and dropped a kiss on Edward's cheek. Shit. I gripped my latte for dear life.
"Hey, Vicky. Um, Victoria, Bella—" He gestured between us as an introduction, and the redhead gave me a bright, stunning smile. Edward, meanwhile, looked extremely uncomfortable. Why should he? He didn't owe me any explanations. I was just… a friend, meeting another… friend?
"Hello, Bella, nice to meet you!" Vicky held out her hand to me, and I wiped mine before I shook it. She had a firm grip, not intimidating, but very self-assured.
"Let me pull up a chair for you," Edward said, glancing around for an empty one.
The hell I was sticking around to watch them flirt and kiss and whatnot. "Oh, that won't be necessary, I was just leaving…" I stuffed my book into my messenger bag, and pushed back from the table hastily.
"No, Bella, it's okay. Edward and I, we just have some ar—"
"Nonono, I don't want to intrude, I have to get home anyway," I said in a high-pitched voice. I stood, almost crushing my coffee cup.
"Bella, I just wanted to tell you—" Edward rose with me, reaching out to touch my arm.
"Hey, yeah, it was good to see you again, too. Um, Victoria, is it?" Or redhead bitch, whatever. "Have a nice day. Bye." I bolted out of there, leaving Edward standing there, with a sad, miserable look on his face. Well, I was out of his hair, if it was a nice, mid-morning rendezvous he wanted with his firecrotch girlfriend. I wondered if the carpet matched the drapes…
Fuck! Why was I angry at him?
Oo x oO
My phone rang as I was putting a pair of panty hose into my bag. I scrambled around to find it vibrating and dancing inside. Alice.
"Hey, pixie. What's up?" I cradled the phone on my shoulder as I tried to find my high-heeled torture shoes.
"Bella! How are you?"
"Getting ready for work. You?"
"About to ask you a huge favor. There's this art exhibit charity thing on Saturday, and I was wondering if you would come with me? I really don't want to show up alone."
"Me? What about Jasper? Can't he go with you?"
"He would, but he's on call that night. Please, pretty please?"
"I don't know, Alice…"
"Oh, hey, by the way, did you run into Edward today?"
I was caught off guard by the question. "Uh, yeah, he was at the Starbucks with some redhead… bitch," I added under my breath, remembering.
"Was he?" Alice sounded amused. "I think I know her. Victoria?"
"Yeah, that's her name." I tried to sound blasé, but I don't think I fooled Alice for a minute.
"Okay. Well, I gotta go. I need to call someone. So, I'll swing by your place at 8, help you get ready Saturday. Bye!"
"Wait, Alice, I haven't said yes. Alice!" She'd already hung up. Shit.
All night long, I wondered about Victoria and Alice's phone call. And that fucking exhibit she wanted me to attend. I simmered slowly in resentment as thoughts about the redhead bitch and the crazy pixie swirled about my head. I wondered if Edward would be there Saturday. And if he'd be escorting his darling friend Vicky.
Fuck, what was wrong with me? It was no skin off my nose if he was dating her. Just because Edward was constantly in my mind, and my heart fluttered like a hummingbird whenever he was near… it was just a stupid crush, physical attraction. I mean, the man was hot. I was definitely not.
Finally, I decided I was going with Alice. I had to see them together with my own eyes, and maybe then the reality of Edward as someone else's boyfriend would set in and I'd finally get him out of my head—and dreams.
Oo x oO
"Here." Alice pulled an outfit from my closet.
"It's a dress, Alice." I crossed my arms defiantly.
"Thank you, Captain Obvious. It's cute, though… one of the few things I've found that qualify."
"I don't wear dresses if I can help it," I said through clenched teeth.
Alice sighed. "Fine. I'll let you wear leggings with it." She dragged me to the bathroom, and proceeded to peel off my jeans.
"Alice!" I cried indignantly. "I can dress myself!"
"Based on your closet, it's pretty clear you can't." After a brief struggle, I managed to shove her out of the bathroom and lock the door.
Minutes later, I emerged, only to be pushed in front of my dresser and tortured. Well, Alice curled my hair and slathered my face with makeup while I fidgeted and squirmed. Which is the same as torture in my book.
"Bella, so help me God…" Alice threatened, as she held the curling iron high above my head.
"Okay, okay," I mumbled, and just decided to close my eyes while she finished.
When she was done, it was nearly 9. I sat there, staring at the stranger in the mirror. My hair was tamed, long and loose and flowing in curls down my back. Its brown color stood out against the dark blue of my dress, as did my flawlessly made-up skin. I prodded my cheek; it felt like I was wearing a mask. My eyes were dark and sultry, smudged and smoky to perfection.
"Stop poking your face, you'll ruin it," Alice chided, catching my gaze in the mirror.
"It's just… not me at all."
"I don't expect you to do this everyday, but on special occasions, you have to admit—you look hot!"
I blushed. Hot for what… or who? Which reminded me…
"Alice? Will Edward be at this charity thingy?"
"Yes," she said absently, stuffing my wallet and cell phone into a small purse I didn't know I owned. I suspected I didn't.
"Oh." I went over to my closet and scrounged around until I pulled out a semi-new pair of black ballet flats.
"You're not serious," Alice huffed with her hands on her hips.
"It's this or my chucks." I restrained the urge to crouch over my Converse, hissing and baring my teeth. I settled for giving Alice an evil glare and she gave up.
Alice was driving to the art exhibit. I climbed into a small yellow Porsche. As she sped off, I clung for dear life and tried to buckle my seat belt. Cars blurred past on the highway.
"Fuck, Alice, slow down!" I gripped the armrest as she swerved around traffic.
"The last time I drove you in this car, you had to be blindfolded, you were so freaked out. Or rather, Isabella was."
"Really?" Alice didn't offer a lot of information on those days I lived as Isabella. I wondered if she was under orders from Jasper not to tell me anything, still hoping to spark some remembrance in me.
"We'll be there in no time."
"As long as we get there alive," I muttered. Alice ignored me as we continued towards the outskirts of Phoenix.
The night air was surprisingly pleasant as Alice left the car with a valet attendant outside a sort of fancy warehouse. Candles embedded in wax on the floor lit our way in. She ushered me past a table that held printed programs for the exhibit, but didn't give me a chance to nab one.
Inside, the place was packed. Industrial lighting above the canvases on the walls contrasted with tea-lights and votive-style candles surrounding the artwork. Waiters were walking around with flutes of champagne, and I snagged two glasses for Alice and me.
"So, Alice, what's the name of—"
As I turned to hand her the drink, Alice faced me with a mildly chagrined look. "Bella, I really hate to leave you alone for a moment, but I have to find my parents. They're the ones organizing this charity fundraiser, and there's something I have to discuss with them. I'll introduce you later, but for now, do you mind if I go find them?"
"Well, I guess if it's just for a few—"
"Great! I'll meet you back here in ten, okay?" With that, Alice darted away. Crazy pixie left me standing there with two glasses of booze and I didn't know anyone there. Dammit. Well, no sense in letting good champagne go to waste. I sipped until they were both gone.
Dropping both flutes onto a passing waiter's tray, I decided to walk around a bit and enjoy the exhibit. If this was a charity fundraiser, and Alice's parents were organizing, I didn't even want to imagine the price tags on some of these works of art.
"Hey, Bella, is it?" Before I'd taken two steps, I turned around at the sound of my name and was faced with none other than Victoria Firecrotch. Her presence reminded me that Edward would probably be around.
"Oh, hi, um, Victoria?" I shook her hand again and glanced around surreptitiously for Edward, expecting him to appear at any moment and sweep his girlfriend away. I wanted to escape before that happened.
"Yes, how are you tonight? Are you enjoying the show?" She looked stunning in a long black dress that hugged her curves; her wild red hair was arranged in a tasteful chignon away from her face. Gorgeous. Shit.
"Oh, well, Alice and I just got here, I was about to go have a look around," I stammered nervously.
"I do hope you enjoy it. We worked very hard on this event for the Cullens," she smiled. I stared at her, puzzled.
"We?"
"Oh, my girlfriend Irina and I, we own this gallery. Edward and I were hammering out some last-minute details a few days ago." Ohhhh… wait, did she say—
"Girlfriend?" I managed to say, and Victoria's impish answering grin was enough confirmation. Awesome. I could stop calling her Firecrotch.
"Well, I don't want to keep you from the exhibit. Edward should be around somewhere." Why she wanted to share that particular tidbit with me, I didn't know. I feigned nonchalance. "Great seeing you again, Bella."
"Yeah, you too!" I guess I could afford to be friendly now, right?
As I walked about, entranced by the flickering flames reflecting off the canvases, I noticed a trend among the paintings. Even though some of them were done in oils, others in watercolors, pastels, and charcoals, there seemed to be a predominant subject: women.
The art was beautiful. As I gazed at canvas after canvas, where the women were sitting in chairs, gracefully posing under trees, some gazing from windows, I came to a realization. These were not pictures of women, plural. It was the same woman, over and over again.
I came to a painting tucked away in a corner. Soft candlelight lit it from the sides. It was a medium-sized canvas, done in oil pastels. It was the woman, drawn from behind. The most prominent feature in the picture was her hair. It was dark brown, with subtle red streaked in it. You could barely discern her profile, touched by the sunlight coming in through the painted window. Something about her seemed familiar…
I pulled back, looking at the picture hanging on a nearby wall. This was a charcoal sketch, only this time the woman was gazing at the viewer over a book. The swirl of her hair across her forehead… the arch of her brows… the shape of her eyes… the set of her nose above the tilt of her mouth… I gasped.
It was me.
It was almost like staring into a black and white mirror. How the fuck did a picture of me wind up here? I turned around, and now that it was glaringly obvious I saw myself in all the pictures, drawn from different angles. Oh, my God. Did she know? Did Alice know? Who had done this?
I faced the oil painting again, mesmerized by the mahogany curtain of hair. Whoever had done this made it seem almost alive… I stretched my hand towards the canvas, fingertips yearning to touch…
A large hand closed over mine. "It's even more beautiful in person."
I whirled, heart pounding. "Edward!"
He stood there, a lopsided smile on his handsome face. He was wearing a black formal suit, and black Converse sneakers. Clearly Alice hadn't gotten to him; a nervous smile of my own appeared.
"Do you like it?" His tone strived to seem normal, but I thought I detected a hint of something else beneath it. My hand was still enveloped in his. Edward's warm touch sent tingles all the way down my arm.
"Like it? Edward, it's wonderful. But, how did—I mean, is this…?" I gestured helplessly, not knowing how to explain my overwhelmed feelings. Then it dawned on me. "They're your work?"
He glanced at the floor, speaking to his shoes. "It is you in the paintings. I'm sorry, maybe I should have asked, should have told you before I—"
"No, that's not it… what I want is…" I took a deep breath.
Edward's green eyes darkened. "You didn't remember me." He tightened his grip on my hand before stepping closer. I was suddenly surrounded by his scent, and trapped in his gaze.
"Why did you do this?" I whispered.
"You're all I can see. At night, in my dreams… since you came back, there's nothing else. Only you."
Just like me. I couldn't find any explanation why Edward was in my head, all the time. Something in me did remember.
"I've been dreaming of you, too," I confessed in a breathless voice. "I don't understand why… I barely know you…"
"Oh, but we do," Edward whispered fervently. "And I want you. All of you. Isabella… Bella." He brought my hands together around him, pulling me flush against his body in a tight embrace. His lips touched mine gently, and I closed my eyes.
I was soaring, the warmth of his mouth never leaving me. Familiar images flashed behind my eyes… of me, and Edward, and another lifetime. With a dizzying sense of vertigo, everything fell into place. I was his, as he was mine. Forever.
Our brief kiss ended. I looked up into his face, wanting to believe. Needing to believe. "What do you want?" Edward brought his mouth to my ear, brushing his lips softly against my skin.
"Regresa a mí," he breathed.
And my heart understood.
Oo x oO
THE END
Wow. It's been an amazing journey. To those of you who have chosen to travel with me, a very heartfelt thank you. Despite my failtastic updating schedule, I'm finally finished with this story. I have a couple more in the works, but I've decided to complete all the rough drafts before posting; that way, if I have any regular readers, hopefully they'll want to stay that way.
Thank you so much for your time! Love you all!
