song: my lady's house by iron and wine
EPOV
Bella had just told me that she was in love with me. It was simply said, not a big show or anything, but something just fucking clicked. It worked.
Carlisle had shaved his head. I knew that he did it to placate the family, and most likely because he knew that Esme couldn't handle seeing her husband's hair fall out little by little because of the chemo. He figured that if it was deliberate and self-inflicted, it would make us all feel better. It made me feel…numb. The first morning that I saw Carlisle's clean-shaven head in the kitchen, something inside of me died. It was real, and it was finally happening. Carlisle was starting chemo. He had taken a leave of absence from the hospital, but he was still trying to escape the house as often as possible. I had no idea what he was doing, but at least he wasn't in that goddamn study. He came up to my room every night for around an hour to talk with me like he thought I wanted, but I still felt that intangible distance between the two of us. He talked about everything but the cancer that was killing him, and I never tried to ask about it. I got all of my information from Emmett or Alice, and kept my parents out of it as much as possible. Emmett was still pissed at Alice and at Jasper for dating her, but the anger was easing, as we knew that we needed each other to lean on. I hated feeling so reliable on people. I always had to depend on myself, my entire life, and I hated feeling like such a pussy. But I was, and I had to get the fuck over it.
Carlisle skipped our little meeting the night that he cut his hair off, and I guess that I was glad that he did. But after that, he continued to climb the steps night after night.
The night before Carlisle was to start chemo, I told him about Bella. I told him everything—from the way that her hair smelled like strawberries to the way that she acted socially handicapped around people she didn't know. I even told him about her fucking chinchilla shit rain sticks, just because I knew that it would make him laugh. And it did. Carlisle's laughter had been strong, resonating off the walls and igniting the dead place in the pit of my stomach. But eventually, his face settled back into his sullen cheekbones, and part of me died again. It was weird, sort of like a limbo between breaking down into tears and wanting to scream as loud as I possibly could. I couldn't help but feel proud of him. He was going to start fighting the fucking lymphoma in less than twenty-four hours after he left my bedroom, and he was going to have to do it alone. Sure, we could all stand there and be cheerleaders for him, but none of us could make the pain go away. None of us could keep his golden hair on his head, and none of us could make the cancer stop destroying his body.
"Be good to her. Bella, I mean," he'd said as he rose from the foot of my bed to leave that night. I nodded, my stomach twisting in knots as I fought the weakness that was creeping behind my eyeballs.
"I will be, Carlisle," I promised.
We never touched each other. It was sort of an unspoken rule. So we didn't hug or anything like that, but the wrinkles of his face were screaming with understood love as he slipped out the door. I eventually fell asleep on my tear-soaked pillow, promising Carlisle and God and anyone else who would listen that I would never, ever fucking hurt Bella Swan.
*
And now she was telling me that she loved me. I didn't know if she was saying it because she thought that it was what I wanted to hear, but my heart began pumping furiously as I fought the urge to fucking dance. It was everything that I needed to hear. I had decided that night, as Carlisle and his uneven, shaved head exited my bedroom, that I would love Bella forever. We'd only been together for a ridiculously short period of time, but it was so much more than a relationship for us. I was under rough circumstances. Now that Carlisle was wasting away, everything was violently shoved into perspective for me. I couldn't keep dicking around. I knew that I needed to grow the fuck up, and I knew that Bella was flawless. Sure, she was a trip. She was clumsy and scatterbrained and spacey and probably insane, but she was smart and funny and beautiful and strong. She was fucking amazing, and hell yeah, I loved her back. I would be crazy not to.
"Jesus, Bell," I'd laughed at her, chewing on my bottom lip nervously. Her habits were obviously rubbing off on me. With everything that I had, every feeling and doubt and emotion that I felt inside of myself, I decided to tell her. "I love you, too." The world shook around me as everything settled perfectly where it belonged. She smiled a huge, toothy grin as her cheeks flamed brilliantly. But I saw hidden emotion in her eyes, so far from the hollow canyons that were imprinted in my mind. Her smile was triumphant, but her eyes were…sad? No. That couldn't be. I knew that I was just confusing things, so incredulous that Bella could possibly love me back, that I was going into shock.
"As irrational and impulsive as it sounds," I continued, shrugging off my insecurities, "it's fucking true." Her eyes watered up, and my insides felt like I was going to explode. Then suddenly, her smile fell and her jaw tensed.
"You don't have to say it if you don't mean it," she said softly, her eyes dropping to her bare toes. Her face, which was between my hands, sulked downward. I shoved her chin up with my thumb.
"I mean it, Bella," I swore. "With everything that I have."
And then I fucking kissed her. Because it seemed to be the right thing to do, and also because I didn't want anything more in that moment. Tears fell rapidly from her eyes then, and I swiped them away with my fingers before they could get inside of my mouth, because that was kind of weird. She moaned underneath my lips, still fucking crying and digging her fingernails into my back.
And that's when it all started.
*
"Did you know," Bella slurred, "that I have never, ever, ever drank Vodka before in my life?" She giggled loudly, and I pushed my pointer fingers against her lips.
"Shhh," I cautioned, hiccupping slightly. "Keep quiet, or Emmett will come up here." I chuckled, pouring another shot and pushing it towards Bella. Her cheeks were bright pink and her eyes were glassy as she tossed the alcohol down her throat. I wondered briefly why tonight, of all nights, Carlisle had decided to stay in his study rather than resuming his nightly routine hanging out in my room. He hadn't come up after dinner, and I'd heard his bedroom door close hours earlier. My attention was diverted as Bella suddenly winced, screwing her face up and sticking out her tongue. I looked to her attentively, despite the alcohol that was rolling uncomfortably in my stomach, and she twisted her grimace into a wasted smile, pointing to the shot glass she'd just emptied.
"Keep Emmett away," she giggled, her tongue still hanging ridiculously from her mouth. "This stuff is aaaaallll mine!" I grinned back at her as I threw back my own shot. It burned as it traveled down my throat before finally settling into my empty stomach. Bad idea. Bella crossed her legs beneath her Indian-style, bouncing up and down and clapping her palms against her knees. "Let's do something!" she exclaimed, reaching for the bottle. I snatched it away from her. Drunk or sober, I could still tell that Bella was the last person on earth who needed more booze in her tiny frame at that precise moment.
I couldn't even remember whose idea it had been to start drinking. Maybe it was Bella in the midst of her new euphoric state of mind, or maybe it was me just being a horny teenager and knowing that Bella wouldn't ease up for once without the help of a little liquid courage. A small part of my mind recalled Bella suggesting it, her face drooping with imagined sadness, but I was happy that she'd brightened up after a few shots. It didn't matter who started it. Because in that moment, I felt nice and warm, and Bella looked beautiful. She had a light sheen of sweat on her brow, and her eyes were slightly crossed, but she was still Bella and we were in love with each other. I thanked Emmett silently for deciding to use the freezer of my mini fridge as his main location of alcohol storage.
"Well, what do you want to do?" I asked Bella lazily, leaning my head against the side of my bed. I was so sleepy, and Bella was so hyper. It made my brain rattle. She cocked an eyebrow mischievously.
"I dunno," she sang. "What do you wanna do?" She was doing the little bouncing thing again. I wished she'd stop. It made me nauseous.
"Bella, just pick something," I answered harshly, closing my eyes. I was too drunk to put up with the game-playing shit. When I finally forced open my heavy lids, she was sitting there, fucking crying. Like, honest-to-goodness, legit crying, like she had been before. Cry, cry, cry. That was all she fucking did.
"Aw, come on, Bella. Why are you crying?" I asked, feeling bad that I made the girl I was supposed to be in love with so upset, even though I had no idea why.
"Because you yelled at me. And because I fucking suck. I suck so fucking hard." I felt my eyebrows raise. Bella never cussed. But I was also confused about something else, and I tried not to let my perverted teenaged boy mind misconstrue her pained words into something disgusting.
"Why do you suck?" I leaned forward and placed my hand tenderly on her knee. She stared at it for a moment before putting her warm little hand on top of mine.
"Because I always hurt people that I love," she whined, looking so pitiful that I wanted to scoop her up and hold her. So I did.
"Don't be silly," I whispered into her hair as she cried against my shoulder. "You love me, and so far, I'm just fine." I thought she'd laugh, but she just kept crying. I hated crying. "Look at me," I said, turning her head carefully to face me. Her eyes were still glassy, partially from the tears and partially because of the fact that she was completely plastered.
"I'm so sorry, Edward," she cried, her bottom lip quivering.
"There's nothing to be sorry about," I soothed, sweeping her hair from her face. I wasn't expecting what happened next. Bella threw her arms around my neck uncharacteristically, shoving her tongue between my lips and sobbing into my mouth. It was kind of a funny feeling to have my girlfriend cry while physically assaulting me, but I didn't pull back. I was always the one who had to instigate things, what with Bella being shy when it came to absolutely everything. But then, she was kissing me with so much fervor and passion that I did what any other asshole would do. I fucking kissed her back.
*
"Are we going to do this?" I asked as Bella shivered below me.
"I mean, I guess," she muttered, taking her lip into her mouth. I was so thankful that I'd left my desk lamp on, because I could see everything. And prim, reserved fucking chinchilla shit rain stick Bella was fucking stellar.
"Okay, as long as you're sure," I said. I wanted to tackle her, even if she wasn't sure, but I had to fight it. I was an asshole, but not to that extent. My head was fuzzy and my mouth tasted stale and I honestly just wanted to grind into Bella but I resisted with everything that I had until she said the word.
"Yeah, I'm sure," she said, locking my gaze. And even though we were both thoroughly shit-faced, her expression was so sure and so determined that my stomach did a little twist. Not the kind that let me know I was about to vomit, but the kind that reminded me that what I was about to do was completely right and perfect and, well, real.
She was perfect.
"Did you do it? Am I okay?" she'd asked, and I pursed my lips to avoid laughing at her.
"No, Bella," I said tolerantly. "You keep squeezing your legs together and I can't move." Her eyebrows pulled together, and she pulled her shaking legs apart for me. For the first time in my life, I was afraid to fuck a girl. Bella was so vulnerable and new that I didn't want to ruin her. She looked so innocent, sprawled across my bed and all glassy-eyed in the light of my desk lamp as she waited for me. I almost pulled away from her before I heard the next words that slipped from her lips.
"Edward, I trust you, it's fine," she said in a clipped tone, scratching her fingers into the skin of my back anxiously as her eyes burned into mine.
It was everything I wanted in that moment, as her brown eyes stared into mine. They were no longer hollow like they always were in my head, they were full and certain and sure and so fucking glorious like the day I'd first climbed into her window. I blinked, to make sure it was real, her brown eyes that stayed forever on the back of my eyelids gaining a sudden depth that had never been there before. I grinned to myself, opening my eyes, and taking all of her in before doing anything hasty.
Her tangled hair spread over my pillow, her body shaking like hell but her eyes so locked with mine with unbreakable intensity that I had absolutely no doubt in that instant. It would be fine, and there was nothing to worry about. She would be there beside me when I woke up, unlike fucking Jessica Stanley, and she would still love me in the morning even when her head was clear and her thoughts were straight. I loved Bella. I loved Bella. I loved Bella, and it would be perfect.
"Okay," I answered, placing a hand on either side of her face, supporting my weight over her with my arms. I'd been with people before Bella, and even though she was so blameless and exposed, I already knew that it was right.
She gasped slightly as I slid into her, and I darted my eyes to meet hers to make sure she was alright. Her bottom lip was pale from the pressure of her bite as she tried to restrain herself from making noise, but she nodded tersely and bucked her hips slightly to let me know it was okay to keep going. She tightened around me, her eyes pinched closed, and I wanted to fucking sing. It was tense, Bella and I together, and so against the grain of everything that I'd ever seen in movies or read in the romance novels Esme kept in the downstairs powder room. But in spite of the slight awkwardness and gasps that slid from Bella's tightly clenched teeth, it was perfect. Perfect, perfect, perfect. Eventually, Bella loosened up and it didn't hurt her so bad anymore. She rubbed my hair softly as she held her other hand to the back of my neck, planting gentle kisses down the side of my face as I hovered above her.
"Are you alright?" I gasped as I moved against her, her legs wrapping around my calves and her little toenails digging into my heels. She nodded quickly, her eyes welling with alien tears as her breathing grew ragged. Her fingers traced up my ribcage as I wrapped my hand around her hip, her thighs pressing against my hips firmly.
"Edward," she gasped, turning her head sharply as her hair toppled into her eyes. I brushed it from her face, hating that her new eyes were hidden from me as I fucking made love to her and felt like a fucking queer for putting it that way. It was not sex, and it was not fucking. It was straight out, unadulterated, unconditional and irreversible love. And her eyes had been hiding from me for too long to let her fucking hair hide them away from me.
Her fingers dug into the flesh of my back, pushing me down on her, my eyes wide and unmoving as I stared at her face. I was glad she kept her eyes closed, because I would have looked like a fucking creeper as I gaped at her. But through the goggles that liquor had created, I still understood what was happening. I was in Bella. The day I thought I would never see until we were seventy-years-old, was here. Bella was beneath me, not some other guy, and she was in love with me.
"Edward," she'd sighed over and over, and I felt like the luckiest motherfucker in the world. She was so good to me, so perfect and blameless, that it made my chest tighten. I decided right then and there, as Bella called my name in my bed, that I would do everything in my power to make sure that she never sighed any other fucker's name, ever.
BPOV
When I was eight, I fell from a tree house and broke my leg. My mother's boyfriend, Samuel, had built the wooden thing high up in a spruce just beyond my back porch, undoubtedly trying to win her affections as well as mine. Well, that wasn't happening, as far as I was concerned. But Renee had gushed over and over about how perfect it was, how well-made and intricate, littering his face with kisses and blowing up his ego like a helium balloon. It disgusted me.
Go on up, Bella!" she'd squealed, practically pushing me up the rungs of the rope ladder that hung from the platform. I was gangly and awkward, even then, stumbling up the ragged rope and splintering my fingers as they slid stupidly from the wooden slats. I really, really didn't want to do it. I hated the tree house. But I did it anyway because I knew it would make Renee happy. All my life I'd been a people-pleaser, being a doormat against my own will because I knew that it would make somebody happy.
"Smile, Bella!" Samuel called, snapping a picture of me as I leaned against the wooden banister and forced a smile on my eight-year-old lips. His voice was very unpleasant, high and slightly nasally, and I hated him. But Renee loved him, so I posed for the picture like a good little girl.
Before I could do anything, before the flash even went off, before my mother could scream, the wood beneath my elbows gave out, breaking in half and sending me sprawling through the air. I tried to catch myself as my fists grasped at empty oxygen, my lips squeezed so tightly together that I was unable to make a single sound. I remember the color of the ground. It was dark, a sort of brownish green, fading into a miserable scarlet red just as my face planted into it. A sharp pain shot through my right shin, and a rusty, metallic scent was somehow wafting through my nostrils as they squashed into the earth. I don't remember much else—I fainted from all of the blood I absorbed with my heavy pupils. But what I do remember was my mother's face when I opened my eyes in the ER.
I saw fear. I saw love and I saw agony. Samuel was nowhere to be seen, and we were alone in the tiny section guarded on three sides by a sick, pastel-colored curtain. She raked my mud-caked hair away from my forehead lightly with her fingertips, tears streaking down her face as she soothed my eight-year-old heart. She was so beautiful, and she was so full of love. Whenever I missed her as I sat alone in my bedroom on the second floor of my father's house, I thought of her in that moment.
Love could be broken so easily. A moment could be lost as soon as it came, and sometimes it was necessary to be prepared if everything you ever planned for fell to dust. Looking back on it, the tree house incident wasn't a life or death situation, of course, but it taught me something. My mother was scared. Absolutely paralyzed with maternal fear for her only daughter. Everything could have been gone. Because of Samuel's simple mistake on the craftsmanship of the tree house railing, I could have easily landed on my neck or my spine and Renee would have nothing.
Eyes open, peace.
Blink, destruction.
It was a vicious cycle. And it scared me to death.
But I had accepted reality. It shouldn't be so difficult to stare at Edward in the face as it was right now. He glanced up at me every now and then from his cereal bowl, his green eyes swimming with compassion and wonder. I shuddered.
*
I woke up in Edward's bedroom. In his bed. Without clothes on. Oh my god. I looked up from where I was nestled in the crook of his shoulder at his jaw, my head spinning from alcohol consumption and wondering where all my luck had come from. My body was turned toward him, our legs intertwined, as he slept lazily on his back. His mouth had fallen slack as he snored softly, one arm folded with his palm behind his head. Trying remember the night before was like seeing through fog. My head spun, and I couldn't even remember my first name. I nuzzled further into the sheets, tensing slightly and holding my breath when he stirred. His eyes opened, and he blinked several times before turning to squint at his alarm clock.
"Bella? You okay?" he muttered foggily as he sat up, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands. I pushed away from him, pulling the sheets up to my neck.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Go back to sleep," I whispered. "I'm sorry I woke you up."
"Don't be silly," he purred, tugging my arms towards him again. "Why are you running away from me?" His eyes were slightly bloodshot, a shadow falling over his features as his desk lamp continued to burn dimly from across the room. I snuggled back into him as he wrapped his arms around me. Edward yawned noisily.
"What time is it?" I asked groggily, trying to sit up but failing beneath the restraint of Edward's pale arms.
"A quarter past five," he sighed, burying his face in my hair. I winced at the thought of what it probably looked like—I wasn't exactly beautiful in the mornings. "You have a couple hours before Alice rises from the dead." I could feel him smile against my head. He rolled me onto my side, twisting so I was facing him. His fingers dragged lazily down my spine.
"I have morning breath," I murmured as I tried to hide against his chest, embarrassed. He laughed roughly, planting a kiss on the top of my head.
"It happens to the best of us," he said. After a few beats of stillness, he added, "If last night had happened with anyone but you, I probably wouldn't be able to remember anything right now." I smiled hugely, and I'm glad that he couldn't see my face as I hid.
"I'm glad you remember," I replied pointedly. "But I hope that that was the last time you try to bed an innocent drunk girl, Edward."
"If I remember correctly, I didn't force those shots down your throat, Sweetheart." Though the nickname was patronizing, I still enjoyed the sound of it more than I should have.
"I'd never been drunk before, you knew that," I grinned stupidly at him as he kissed my temple softly.
"I know. But I hoped that it would work to my advantage." He wiggled his eyebrows impishly, and I frowned at him. "Re-lax, woman," he mumbled. "You know I love you."
"I do." I did. But my stomach did a sharp flip when recollection suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks. I told Edward I loved him. He was in love with me, and had said so because he knew how I felt about him. I told Edward I loved him, and was going to tell him that I knew Carlisle was dying. That was one of the main purposes I showed my feelings in the first place, to let him know that I was there for him and would be, always. But I wouldn't have told him if it hadn't been for my premeditated confession. Edward would not be in bed with me right then if I hadn't known that his father was dying. I had to swallow back the bile that rose in my throat.
"Bella, what's the matter?" he asked, smoothing the crease between my eyebrows with his thumb. "Do you feel sick?" I did. I was hung over, and I was a liar. I had cheated.
"Can I go take a shower?" My voice was small and shaking. I sounded like a child.
"Do you need help? Not with the shower, I mean, unless you want me to. I just mean, like, in general."
I shook my head quickly as I tore from his arms. Despite my extreme guilt, I still had enough within me to blush slightly as Edward's eyes raked over my naked body in the dim light of the room.
"There's a robe over there on the couch that you can wear," he offered. I slid his plaid robe over my bare shoulders as he smirked in approval. I gave a half-hearted smile as I slipped from the confines of his room, trying to wash the images of the night before out of my mind before I could vomit all over the wooden floor.
*
I allowed my brain to wander over the events that had taken place between us. It had begun so seemingly simply, just another sleepover with Alice as Charlie slept alone in our home. But hidden behind keeping up appearances for my dad was the awful truth that Alice had exposed to me. I wanted to vomit.
I'm not sure why I did what I did. I remember throwing my arms around his neck and kissing him, not nearly as careful as I'd been so many times before, swallowing back all the embarrassment that I should have felt. I knew that I was damned if I did and damned if I didn't, so I kissed him. I kissed him hard, our lips crushing against each other, as I forced everything building in my ribcage into the way that we held each other. It didn't take long for him to pull away, looking into my eyes with confusion as he probably wondered what the hell I was doing. My mind raced, trying to figure out anything that could distract me from what I knew and what I couldn't tell him. Aha. Emmett and Edward were utterly and completely disobedient, and I knew for a fact that Edward would have a stash of something lying around.
"Edward?" I'd mumbled, my eyelashes wet. "I'm sorry I'm like this. I have no idea what's going on with me."
He bought into my lie. "It's okay. Alice is my sister, after all, so I understand." I forced a barking laugh as I wiped my nose with the back of my hand. "Are you sure you're okay? We can talk if you want."
Think, Bella, think. Keep your stupid mouth shut, whatever you do.
"No, let's not talk about it, okay? Can we...do something else?" His cocked one eyebrow, his eyes swimming.
"What did you have in mind?" His voice was laced with suggestiveness as I rearranged my face, clinging on to nonchalance with my fingernails.
And that was when it all started.
I could barely recall giggling like an idiot, collapsing into fits of laughter only to cry like a drunken moron. I could recall Edward's mild annoyance as I bounced feverishly, and I could remember the burning as the vodka slid down my throat. But most of all, I could remember the feeling of the air from the window as it hit my naked body.
It happened almost as if it was completely out of my control, although I knew that all I would've had to do was utter one word of distaste and Edward would stop himself. But I didn't, because I knew what I wanted. I wanted Edward, all of him, forever. I wanted Edward everyday for the rest of my life. But I couldn't, even if I didn't tell him that I knew, not ever. Even if I waited for me to tell me himself, even if I stood by him as his father wasted away into nothing. Because I would always know that I'd betrayed him, and I couldn't do that to him. So, through the haze of my drunkenness, I undressed in the middle of his gently lit room as he sat on the floor, his eyes glassy as he watched me.
I mentally cursed myself for making Edward take his fingers out of my gray sweatpants. It was like a homeless man refusing shelter; I had turned away the only thing I wanted now. I felt as if I were being smacked into coherence as the friction of my body against the bed sheets warmed me, and everything was alive. The liquor had tied my tongue, and for that I was thankful. But I hadn't planned for this. I hadn't planned for everything to be so clear, for Edward's eyes to be so focused as he gazed at me. But they were, and the truth was resurfacing.
"Edward," I gasped as I clutched at his shoulder blades. I hated that it was so wonderful. I hated that the one thing that was supposed to be right was the most disgusting thing in the history of mankind.
I buried myself in my mind, closing my eyes to rid of everything, hoping that I could somehow block out the feeling of Edward inside of me. He was almost glowing with happiness as I pinched my eyes shut, and that made it so much worse. My stomach jolted uncomfortably, and I prayed that sleep would come easily as Edward collapsed over me. His arms wrapped tightly around my ribcage as he breathed deeply into my hair.
"Strawberries," he whispered before falling into a deep sleep.
*
Edward asked me again if I wanted any cereal as we sat together at the kitchen table, and the thought of allowing myself to consume anything of sustenance was repulsive to me. I was empty. Edward had tried desperately to fill me, not realizing that I knew the only secret that he ever kept from me. His efforts were wasted. I couldn't be filled, no matter how hard he tried. I had fought dirty. He was the clean one now, releasing all of his filth and giving me his entire heart. It sounded stupid, and a bit crazy, but that didn't make it any less true.
He gazed at me tentatively now between swallows, exuding admiration and respect that I didn't deserve. I could tell that he was wondering what was the matter with me, but I just shook my head and forced a smile as I watched him eat. I'd barely made it to the bathroom he and Alice shared before I threw up noisily into the toilet, my eyes tearing and my body crumpling to the tiled floor. I wasn't sure how to fix what had happened. I wish that it had been different, and though Edward seemed to house no regrets, I had imagined it differently in my mind. From the first time he kissed me to the first time he told me he couldn't stay away from me anymore, it played out perfectly. I almost wanted to make a movie out of the sheer perfection of those two moments that I wanted to constantly wallow in. But this…this was different. Before I was new, but now I was used. And I was glad that it was Edward who had used me, but not under those circumstances.
I knew his father was dying, but he was completely unaware. He gave me everything he had, except for that. And while I knew that he didn't owe me the truth concerning his father, I felt filthy for stealing it from him. I'd stolen it. I'd cheated the system. I knew he had a secret, from that very day that we sat together on the porch of the big, white house. I saw it in his eyes, an electric spark of secrecy behind the skin of his face. I asked him why his home was so terrible to him, and his eyes had tightened and he'd changed the subject. But now I knew, I knew everything. I had used Alice in the midst of her vulnerability to yank the truth out from underneath her, swearing to her that I would never say anything to Edward even though he deserved to know. I knew. I knew. I could never tell Edward, but I still knew.
I couldn't stop saying it. I was beginning to annoy myself, wondering why I couldn't just shove it in the back of my head and move on. Maybe it was worse that I'd thrown myself at him. I opened the bottle of vodka to try and calm things down, to take his mind away from my obvious distress. I used him like he was an object, I got him drunk and made him have sex with me and I was disgusting. It made me want to cry.
"So, are you going to tell me why you're so pissy? Are you okay?" Edward asked suddenly. I jumped in shock at the hardness of his tone as it broke the silence. I'd been so lost in my own mind that I almost forgot to feign happiness in his presence.
"Yeah," I replied, trying at nonchalance. I failed.
"Bullshit," he commented, lifting another spoonful of cereal to his lips.
"I'm serious."
"Whatever you say, Bella." He sounded more irritated now, his green eyes flaring with annoyance. He glared at me, lifting his spoon to his mouth without glancing down at the bowl. His stare made me uncomfortable, like maybe now because he'd seen all of me, that perhaps somehow he could read my mind. Stay out of my head! I screamed internally, just in case he could. Stupid as it was, I started to wonder if maybe he could. But I was most likely just a terrible liar.
"I have to go," I insisted suddenly, picking the jacket I'd borrowed from him off the back of my chair and shrugging it on. "Charlie will expect me back." He frowned slightly, the cereal falling from his spoon back into the bowl with a plop.
"Already?" he whined. "Stay. Please."
I shook my head tersely. "I'm sorry. I promised I'd get home. I have to study for the Calc test on Monday."
He frowned at me. "Will I at least get to see you tomorrow?"
I gulped. I couldn't see him, not without the guilt that was stirring in my stomach making its way back up my throat again. God, I was so stupid. He was possibly the only guy in the history of forever that would still love a girl who'd screwed him and then tried to run away afterwards. But he was consistent, and I was flaky.
"I can't. I...um..I have to go to church." My lie was terrible. Charlie was Catholic, but he wasn't religious. And Renee was...something. I think her latest conversion was to Judaism or something. Edward's jaw clenched as he appraised my expression, a glimmer of hurt in his eyes. It killed me to lie to him so blatantly, not even trying to make it sound believable.
"You and I both know that you don't go to church, Bella. But if you don't want to see me, that's fine, too." His face was agonized, and I mentally smacked myself. So I forced a grin, for him, and walked over to where he sat.
"Let me sit," I ordered, crawling into his lap. He wrapped his arms around me weakly, still irritated, the feel of them awakening the memories of the night before. I sat there in silence, trying to figure out how to dig myself out of the hole I'd made, before he interrupted my thoughts.
"Did you...was I...are you mad that we..." He couldn't finish his sentence, nor could he look at me in the eyes. His insecurity was crippling, like a knife in my chest. He had been perfect. He'd been attentive, and careful, and so absolutely amazing that it hurt to think about. It was me who was messed up, but I couldn't tell him.
"No, Edward." I insisted, nudging his chin up with my shoulder. "It's nothing like that. I'm glad that you, that we...you know. Yeah. I just have a...a um...a doctor's appointment. You know, one of those. I guess I have to tell them now that I'm, er, sexually active. Or whatever." I hoped that the hesitation leading up to my total and complete lie sounded like embarrassment. I checked his face to make sure he hadn't caught my bluff, but I could only see a faint blush on his cheek as I fabricated a gynecologist's appointment. "But I have to go," I continued before he could speak. "I'll call you, I promise." He smiled a crooked grin, his eyes still drooping slightly, but not as pained as before.
"Okay. Do what you have to do, just don't tell me you're going to church. Make up something better next time." He let out a chuckle as I pecked him on his full lips, pulling away from his embrace. I choked out a laugh, giving him a quick wave before I ran to get Alice from her bedroom. I needed to be away from Edward, away from the depth of his eyes and the warmth of his chest.
As he looked at me from across the table I had eaten on time and time again, I thought of that tree house that Samuel built. Despite the hatred I'd felt for him, the tree house was pretty cool, sitting high and mighty in one of the only trees that the state of Arizona had to offer. He'd obviously worked very hard on it, trying to please me and make Renee happy. We were similar, in that context, because all we wanted was for the woman that we both loved to smile, if only for a little while. All that effort, all that work, had been destroyed in one millisecond because the wood had been rotten from the start. Everything could have been gone. And it was only after that I realized it, as I was sprawled across a hospital bed, bruised and bleeding.
My relationship was built of rotting wood. A house built of lies, of guilt and deceit, and I had thought that I could keep it standing. But I knew then, as I ran up the spiraling staircase to beg for Alice to drive me home, that my work had been for nothing. The wood was destined to break, and now that it was happening, I couldn't do anything about it. I was flying, twisting in mid-air, with nothing to grab onto to save myself. Everything was damned from the beginning. And Edward...Edward was the one who had tried the hardest. Edward was just like Samuel. He'd worked just as hard as I had, trying to make something beautiful and having it shoved back in his face. And all he could do was stand back and watch the one thing that seemed like it could finally be good break to pieces. It had always been that way for him. He'd always been trying, only to ultimately fail. And I hated myself for being just one other person to fuck Edward over.
It could all be over in an instant. And I was learning this the hard way.
I picked up my pace as I walked swiftly to Alice's room. I needed to get out of there, and fast.
