30
"If you could go anywhere, where would you go?"
Bella smiled, biting the inside of her lip as she considered his question. Edward was seated in the red metal chair, watching her paint on a fresh canvas that was now seated on the new easel Garrett had bought her. It was almost noon, and Bella had ignored the calls and text messages from Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, Jasper, Seth, and Jacob. Charlotte had been the only one she had replied to, and that was only because Charlotte's message simply said: I love you, sweet girl.
"Um," she said, laughing. "I don't know. I'd love to sketch the Grand Canyon, or The Great Wall of China, maybe the Pyramids, but I'd also love to see the Mona Lisa in person, or the works of Henri Matisse, Da Vinci, Van Gogh." She paused. "Why?"
Edward shrugged his shoulders. "Just thinking it might be nice to travel some. You know, when it's not for work."
"You'd want to travel with me?"
Edward grinned. "Sweetheart, I want to do everything with you."
"Oh." Bella pressed her lips together before she turned back to her painting. "Where would you want to go?"
"The Grand Canyon, The Great Wall of China, and the Pyramids sound pretty nice, especially if I can watch you sketch."
She turned back to him. "What do you mean by that?"
"You're sexy as hell when you're focused on your art."
He said it so matter-of-factly, like it was common knowledge that she found herself surprised. "I'm sexy when I paint?"
"I mean you're sexy all the time, but when you're painting, you get this look on your face, a look of pure, utter contentment. Makes me wonder what you look like when you're sculpting with clay."
Bella snorted and shook her head. "I'm a hot mess when I use clay. It's messy and I get it everywhere, which is why I only allow myself to use it in my studio, and not my apartment. Not worth losing my security deposit, you know?"
Edward nodded. "What's your apartment like?"
"My apartment?" she asked. "It's an apartment. I have a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, small laundry room. Kind of standard."
"Just the one bedroom?"
"All you need when you're alone all the time," she quipped.
"Where do you paint?"
"On the balcony mostly. Sometimes in the living room. Why?"
Edward shrugged his shoulders. "Just curious, I guess."
"You are, huh?"
"Yep," he said, smiling. There was a moment of hesitation before he asked, "Do you think I'd fit in your apartment?"
Bella dropped her paint brush into her cup of water before she turned and looked at him. "What?"
"Do you think I'd fit into your apartment?" he asked again. "Like permanently."
Bella put her hands up, ignoring the paint that covered her fingers. "Wait, just wait. Are you . . . are you asking to move in with me?"
Edward shrugged his shoulders. "Would you freak out if I said yes?"
"Probably," she admitted, watching as he frowned. "We just met, Edward. We've only known each other like a week. Shit, not even a week."
"Okay, duly noted." Edward stood up and walked into the house, closing the back door behind him.
Sighing, Bella scrambled to her feet and followed him, finding him leaning against the kitchen counter, his head hung low. "It's not that I don't want you with me."
"You just don't think we've known each other long enough to live together." Edward turned and looked at her. "I love you, Bella. I don't . . . I can't . . ." He brought his hands up in front of him, clenching his finger into fists as he took a deep breath. "I don't want to live without you. Not for a second, and I assumed that you don't want to move back here in order to be with me, so I figured I'd have to move to you."
"Oh." Bella brought her hand up to her chest, toying with the neckline of her T-shirt. "You've given this a lot of thought, haven't you?"
Edward nodded. "I know it's fast, and if you're not ready, then I guess I can find an apartment, but . . ." He took a deep breath as he walked over to her, placing his hands on either side of her face. "I can't lose another person I love, Bella. I can't . . . I can't lose you."
"You won't," she whispered, placing her hand on his chest. "I just . . . Your family is here, Edward. Your career. You're talking about giving all of that up for me, and I . . . I don't want to resent me if you're unhappy in L.A."
"I won't," he said, quickly.
"You can't know that," she whimpered.
"I can and I do!" he promised, leaning his forehead against hers. "My future, sweetheart, is with you, wherever you want to be. I love you."
"I love you, too, and if you're sure, like really, really sure this is what you want, then you can move in, but, Edward, I'm not an easy person to live with. I keep weird hours, and I'm messy."
"Good thing I like weird hours and messy people."
Bella laughed and shook her head. "You say that now, but wait until you find me in the living room at three in the morning with paint all over me."
Edward stepped backward, his eyes traveling down the length of her body. "All over you?"
"Sometimes," she said, smirking. "What can I say? I like to paint naked."
"Oh, that is something I most definitely want to see," he moaned, wrapping his arms around her and hoisting her onto the counter. However, before he could kiss her, someone rang the doorbell. Edward groaned and dropped his head onto her shoulder. "Ten bucks says that's my Mom and Dad."
"No way in Hell I'm taking that bet," she scoffed, pushing his shoulders to move him backward before she jumped off the counter and left him standing with a grimace on his face. She laughed as she hurried into the living room and pulled the door open, feeling all sense of happiness leave her body. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to see you." The tall, thin brunette in standing in the doorway to Edward's house, raised her perfectly styled eyebrow as her lips curled into a smile. "Aren't you going to invite me in? I'm dying to meet . . . Edward, was it?"
Bella sighed, took a step backward, and waved her inside, shifting her eyes over to Edward, who had moved so that he was leaning against the doorway between the living room and the kitchen. As she walked into the house, she looked around, folding her arms in front of her. Her eyes lingered on Edward for a moment before turning back to Bella.
"Well, aren't you going to introduce us?"
"Do I have a choice?" Bella deadpanned, but stretched her hand out toward Edward, who was quick to cross the room, slipping his finger in with hers. "Edward Masen, this is Angela Weber. Angela, this is Edward Masen."
"It's nice to meet you." Edward offered her his hand. "How do you know Bella?"
"I'm her shrink." Angela smiled. "Sorry, therapist. Supposed to use proper wording when introducing myself, but I figure if people are going to call me a shrink, I might as well embrace it."
"Oh, okay." Edward shifted his eyes down to Bella, who shook her head. "It's. . . it's nice to meet you, I guess."
Angela smiled, glancing at Bella before looking back at him. "You, too."
Bella rolled her eyes. "He called you, didn't he?"
"He did," she admitted. "The better question, though, is why didn't you call me?"
"I was going to."
"Liar."
Bella huffed. "I was going to when I got back."
"You should have called me before you came back here," Angela argued.
"Why? So you could tell me not to?"
"Yes!" Angela exclaimed, throwing her arms up in front of her.
Bella sighed and shifted her eyes up to Edward. "Can you give us a few minutes alone? Please?"
"Um, sure," he said, leaning down and kissing the top of her head. "I should probably check in with everyone anyway."
"Thanks."
Edward shifted his eyes back to Angela for a moment before he hurried upstairs. Bella bit the inside of her lip before gesturing for Angela to have a seat on the sofa, which she did.
"Want some coffee?"
"Nope," she said, patting the sofa next to her. "Sit. Explain."
"Ang." Bella shook her head before she walked over and sat next to her. She placed her hands on her knees. "He was dying. I had to come back."
"No. Try again."
"That's the truth!"
"That may be what you told yourself, Bella, but that's not the only reason you came back."
Bella leaned back, pulling her knees up to her chest. "I wanted closure, Angela. I needed . . . I needed to see him die, to know that he could never hurt me again. And then I got here, and he said my name, he smiled. He fucking smiled, Angela, like he hadn't beaten the life out of me for years. Why would he smile at me like that?"
Angela just stared at her.
"What'd he tell you?" Bella asked.
A sly smile crept over her lips. "It doesn't matter what he told me. I want to hear it from you."
"I want to know what he told you!" she argued.
Angela laughed. "He called and said you needed me. Told me that your father had finally died, and that you were having a hard time."
Bella bit the inside of her lip. "He did?
She nodded. "He's worried about you."
"Yeah, I know." Bella wrapped her arms around her knees, laying her head on top. "I thought I could come back here, sign some papers, tell him to go to Hell, and go back to L.A., finally move on with my life."
"But?" Angela prompted.
"But it wasn't that easy," she whimpered, feeling her eyes fill with tears. "His walls are filled with pictures, Angela. Of me, of us. We're laughing and smiling, happy. He has . . . had all those good memories, but I don't. I've been trying to remember one. Just one good memory with him, but all I can remember is the pain, the beatings, the way he called me ugly and stupid every single day. He said he loved me, Angela. My father held my hand, and told me loved me, but he couldn't have loved me, could he? Could he, Angela?"
"He could have," she admitted. "He may have been a bastard, Bella, but that doesn't mean he didn't love you."
"How? How could he beat the shit out of me every fucking day if he loved me?"
"What did I tell you when you asked that very question ten years ago?"
Bella rolled her eyes. "That I would never know why he was the way he was, that I can't control what he did, only how I handle what he did to me."
"That's right," Angela said, shifting so that she was facing her. "Tell me about him."
"Him?" Bella asked, before biting the inside her lip.
Angela laughed and gestured toward the stairs. "Tell me about him."
"What do you want to know?"
"Everything," she snickered. "You look at him differently than you did Carlisle."
"He makes me feel differently than Carlisle ever did," Bella admitted. "He's . . . I don't know if I can even explain him, but he . . . he makes me feel again."
"Makes you feel what?"
"Alive. Happy. Needed. Wanted. Cherished. Loved."
Angela smiled. "Are you in love with him?"
Though nervous, she heard herself saying, "I am."
"Wow," she murmured, smiling. "I didn't think you were actually going admit it."
Bella shrugged her shoulders. "I'm tired of being alone, Ang. I want . . . I want a life worth living, and I want it with him."
Angela grinned wider.
"Stop smiling at me like that," she muttered, feeling her cheeks turn red. "Seriously, it's creepy."
"Sorry," she snickered. "It's just good to hear you talking about what you want, and not what other people expect from you."
"But?"
Again, Angela smiled, this one a little softer than before. "But you have a tendency to let the men in your life control your self-worth. First your father, and then Carlisle. And before you jump my ass, I know how important Carlisle is to you, but as I've told you a thousand times, you can't let him hold you back."
"I'm not," Bella insisted. "I held on to him for a long time, Angela. Longer than I should have. I know, but . . . For a long time, I didn't think I deserved someone to love me for who I am, flaws and all," she whimpered. "But Edward does. He lets me cry, he makes me laugh, and when he touches me, I . . . I feel beautiful."
Angela brought her fingers to her lips, not bothering to hide the way her smile grew with each word Bella spoke. "Wow."
"Stop saying that," Bella giggled through her tears. "It scares me, Angela. It scares me more than I want to admit, but I want a life with him."
"Being scared is normal, sweetie." Angela shifted closer, reaching out and taking hold of her hands. "You survived a lot, Bella. More than anyone probably knows," she hinted, her eyes shifting toward the stares. "I'm proud of you for admitting your feelings, for admitting that you're scared. Not that long ago you wouldn't have even sat this close to me, or let someone other than Carlisle or Esme hold your hand. I've been telling you for years that you relied on them too much, especially Carlisle. It wasn't healthy for either of you. And I'm not going to lie, Bella. I worry that you're trading one man for another."
"I'm not," she said, shaking her head. "I'm not, Angela. He . . . He sees me. Not the little girl covered in bruises and scars, crying and ashamed because her father hurt. He sees me. The real me, and I . . . I see him, you know? The real him. He funny and smart and beautiful."
"Men don't like to be called beautiful," Angela scoffed.
"He is beautiful, though. I love him, Angela. I am so in love with him."
"I'm in love with you, too." Startled, Bella turned and looked behind her, finding Edward leaning against the doorframe. "Sorry. I need to run out for a little bit and help Alice and Ben tie up some loose ends. I shouldn't be too long, though. Need anything while I'm out?"
Shaking her head, Bella stood up and walked over to him, placing her hands on his chest. "I probably need to head back to everyone. I know they're worried."
"They are," he admitted, bringing his hand up to her face. "But if you're not ready, they can wait. It's okay to put your needs first, sweetheart."
"Thank you, but I . . . I've been running for ten years, Edward. I think it's time I stop."
"Okay." He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. "Want me to wait?"
Bella shook her head, looking back at Angela. "She'll give me a ride back. Will you come by when you're done, though? I think Lottie would like to get to know you better. You know, since you're important to me."
Edward laughed. "Of course. I wouldn't dream of letting Lottie down, sweetheart." He brushed his thumbs across her cheek. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
Bella leaned up and kissed him once more before he turned and walked out of the house. She wrapped her arms around herself as she watched him climb into his truck, giving her a wave before he reversed out of the driveway, and drove away.
"I see what he meant," Angela said, placing her hand on Bella's shoulder, causing her to tense for a moment before she relaxed.
"Who?"
Angela gave her a look. "Carlisle. He said you'd found your peace. When he called, he said you found your peace, and he was worried that you'd let fear and hurt cause you to push away the one man who makes you truly, honestly happy."
"He did?" she whimpered.
Angela nodded, sliding her arm around her shoulder. "He loves you, Bella, and wants you to be happy." She gave her shoulder a squeeze before releasing her. "Go get cleaned up, and we'll head over."
Bella nodded before she turned and walked back into the house, heading into the backyard to put up her paints. Carlisle had called Angela, not because he was worried about how she was processing her father's death. Or not only because he worried about how she was processing her father's death, but because he worried about her bailing out on Edward. Maybe Carlisle was really ready to let her go. And maybe, just maybe, she was ready to finally be free.
Thank you for all the AMAZING reviews!
