CHAPTER THIRTEEN
His movements were quick and strong. Each punch landing in the middle of the bag and causing it to swing. He always came to the gym to let loose, to let go of his anger. She watched the muscles of his back tense as his fist made contact with the bag. He was angry and hurt. She understood. She would have felt the same way, because they didn't keep stuff from each other.
She was afraid to make her presence known, to take on the anger he was currently reflecting on the punching bag.
Before she could open her mouth, he stopped the punch and let his fist relax against the worn leather.
"You didn't think to tell me?" he said, not turning around. How had he known she was here?
"I—"
"Didn't you think I had a right to know!" he growled and threw another punch. She flinched at the tone of his voice.
"I do," she answered in a soft whisper.
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
"I was…g-going to," she stuttered and he pivoted to face her. The hurt in his bright green eyes felt like a punch to the gut. She had caused that and she felt horrible for it.
"When? When you were laying on your deathbed? When you were minutes away from dying? A letter after you death? When?" he questioned and raised a brow in disbelief.
"I just…didn't want you to worry," she whispered.
"Oh and fainting in my arms is no cause for worry?" he shouted. She flinched. She hated when he raised his voice at her. He didn't do it often.
"I'm sorry," she breathed and looked away from him.
"When did you find out?" he asked in the same calm voice. She met his eyes.
"December," she said tentatively.
He felt the air whoosh out of him. Six months. She had been hiding this for six months.
"How could I have been so blind!" he groaned and turned to hit the bag once. It was a bad hit and the pain reverberated into his arm. He took it in stride. She was sick for six months and he had been blind to it. He felt sick to his stomach. He was her best friend. He was supposed to realize these things.
"How were you supposed to know if I didn't tell you," she comforted and a bitter laugh escaped him as he slowly turned to face her once more.
"I'm your best friend, Bella! I'm supposed to know! You're supposed to tell me!" he shot back and she watched his eyes fill with tears. He leaned against the punching bag and slowly slid to the ground. He rested his elbows on his knees and cradled his head in his hands. She took the slow steps toward him and knelt beside him.
"This is the worst part of it all. I can handle this. But seeing you hurt, seeing you sad, it kills me," she whispered and pulled his hand away from his face so she could look at him. He stared at her and she watched as a single tear slipped down his face.
"The girl I love is dying, how am I not supposed to hurt?" he breathed back and her breath caught. She wasn't even sure he knew what he said, but she had heard it.
"You love me?"
He started but never took his gaze away from her own questioning eyes.
"Yeah, I kinda do," he quipped.
"You weren't supposed to love me," she said, without thought. She loved him. She had always loved him, but he wasn't supposed to love her back. It made it all the more difficult to handle leaving him.
"Oh, well sorry for not being able to avoid the inevitable. You're not supposed to lie to me, but you did anyway," he shot back hurt by her words. He hadn't expected that response. He hadn't wanted that response.
"I didn't lie," she mumbled.
"Yes, you did. Every moment you were with me and pretended to be okay was a lie," he said and her face flamed.
"I didn't pretend. I was okay!"
"NO! You were sick, you are sick and every minute that ticks by, every second is just bring us closer to your four year mark," he shouted. She leaned back on her heels.
"How could I tell you, Edward! I was terrified and angry when I found out. I felt weak because my body was losing the fight before I even had a chance to start. And I needed you. I couldn't tell you and put this strain on you, watch you hurt because of me. I needed normalcy. I needed us! And do you have any idea how amazing it is to hear you love me? How it literally makes my heart pound, because I've been dying to hear those words, dying to tell you that I've been in love with you since forever? But I can't. I can't because it hurts. It hurts to tell you and it hurts to let you love me because I have an expiration date!" she shouted and the tears sprung from her eyes running down her cheeks.
He hated how she made that sound. He stood up to his knees and grabbed her wrist in his hands as he stared into her eyes.
"I love you and nothing will change that. I will love you for now to forever, even if forever is only a few years, a few days or all of eternity," he said and she nodded. She had never imagined this would be the way they told each other how they felt.
She imagined stars and flowers. Music flowing from the back ground and just a romantic…
"The night of prom. You were going to tell me, that's what you wanted to tell me? That you loved me? That's why you did all that?" she asked and he nodded. He bent his head and took her lips in a slow fragile kiss. One that made her heart pound. She dug her fingers into his soft hair and moved his lips with his so that danced around each other.
She felt her face flush.
He pulled away all too soon and she whimpered.
"Bella, marry me?" he whispered and her eyes widened. Was he serious?
The look in his eyes answered her question. He was completely serious. He wanted to marry her. She felt the tears spill over her eyes once again.
"Yes," she breathed and he captured her lips in a heated kiss.
So yes they are incredibly young and just finished high school, but she only has one life to live and it's quite short, so why not? Right?
Thoughts?
