A/N: I was going to split this one up between B/EPOV, but i forgot. haha. but it's now or never, because i'm taking a week long internship in New York next week, so..i won't be updating for a little while. get ready, because this chapter is angsty. i wrote an extra-long chap for you to hold you over :)
EPOV
I had no idea where in the hell I was. I didn't recognize the setting, and the air was a touch too warm for my taste. I knew that I probably wasn't in Forks, because it was sunny, although the ferns I sat among grew from terrain very much like the traditional dark soil I was used to. I was in some sort of clearing, the sky a trippy purple color as the sun set against the earth. I wasn't familiar with anything other than the face that stared back at me. I would know that face anywhere.
Bella looked at me tentatively with understanding eyes, eyes that knew something that I didn't. I hated that fucking look. It was how everyone at school always looked at me, how my sister looked at me, how my father stared down his nose at my face. I hated that look, but it was so fucking divine. Because Bella had somehow changed between just over a day ago until now, managing to acquire a glowing tan and grow her chocolate-colored hair out several inches. Her shiny waves tickled my nose, the smell of strawberries swimming beneath my skin as she licked her thick, open lips.
I wanted to touch her.
But right when I reached my hand for her face, she pulled away. Her brown eyes pinched shut as she dodged my reaching fingers, a grimace taking over her angelic features as she danced away from where I sat.
"Bella," I called. She smiled a vengeful smile as I took all of her in. She was mostly undressed as she tore through the tall ferns, disappearing behind me. She didn't speak or make any sort of noise at all. Her silence bothered me; it was uncomfortable. I rose from the rolling ferns, whipping around to search for her as my fingers itched to feel her skin. And that's when I saw it.
It creaked and groaned with age and knowledge, inky clouds billowing in the violet sky behind it as the light faded into a muted darkness. I gasped as I stared at the structure in front of me. I hadn't remembered coming here, and I wondered how Bella had found her way. But she danced up the steps to the big, white house as if she owned the place, turning to smirk at me as she pushed open the heavy door.
"Bella," I called again, falling into a slow run as I tore through the thick vegetation. She stood there, barely clothed in the open door of my favorite place, and I wanted her more than I ever had in my life. More than any other day I'd spent with her, and more than I had in my bedroom when she'd taken her clothes off for me.
The stairs groaned in protest as I skipped up them towards her, a smile ripping over my cheeks as my eyes flitted over her body. I slowed my pace, nearly dragging myself as I approached her, my chest aching for the feel of her skin. But then the weirdest thing happened.
She snatched her smile away from her face, her brown eyes melting into a fuzzy mess like watercolor. A sick, devastating sadness screamed from her cells as she shrunk away from my extended arms, weakly closing the door of the white house inch by inch to hide her face from me.
"Bella," I called for a third time, my voice laced with irritation. She shook her head slowly, a fat tear rolling down her perfect cheek.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice cracking as she spoke for the first time. My chest was thick as I drew in ragged breaths. She retreated further, pushing the door shut between us.
"Bella! Bella, please!" I shouted, running to the door and pounding my fists against it angrily. "Bella, no!" The sound of the lock clicking into place shattered me as I stared at the faded red door. I wasn't sure what was happening or why I was reacting this way, but something in my head told me that for some reason, what was happening was very, very bad.
I reached for the doorknob, rattling it uselessly as I screamed for Bella to come to me. She never came. I stood on the porch until the sun was gone, shouting her name and pounding at the door until my knuckles bled.
And just as I knocked for the last time before the sun disappeared, the house trembled beneath my fist. "Bella!" I screamed as the wooden planks groaned furiously. I barely had time to run from the porch before the home—my refuge, the only thing I had left now—crumbled to rubble.
It happened so quickly. I couldn't scream for help, and I couldn't call for Emmett to help me like he so often did. I looked around me for my father, trying to almost will him into existence so he could push the walls back together. But there was no one, and the girl that I loved was locked inside of a house that she'd tried to keep me out of. Had she known that the house would destroy itself? My big, white house had once been indestructible. It had stood, strong and old, for as long as I could remember. Why was this happening now? Why was this happening as soon as Bella closed the door against me? Why had she closed the door in the first place? I could see her eyes on the back of my eyelids as I so often did, full of tears and identical to the way they'd been as she shut me out. And now, she was going to die.
Suddenly, there was nothing. I stood there, unmoving, as the roof caved in, the shingles and the wasting wood that I knew like I knew my own face collapsing into an unrecognizable heap of nothingness. Nothing survived. Not even the staircase, not even the piano, not even Bella.
I was alone, in a sea of ferns.
*
My eyes shot open. My shirt was fucking disgusting and soaked through with sweat, my head pounding furiously. The extending white drywall ceiling above me calmed my raging nerves as I struggled to breathe, pulling me back to reality as I realized that I was on my mattress and not in the clearing in the woods.
"Fuck," I muttered, raking my fingers through my matted hair. "Just a dream." I choked out a humorless laugh as my heart rate returned to normal, mumbling to myself as I unknotted the sheets from my ankles. It was just a dream, Cullen, it was just a dream.
But there was something strangely realistic about it, something I couldn't put a finger on. I was used to my dreams being really fucked up, like mini acid trips, and while this one was pretty trippy, something about it made me uneasy. There was a hidden accuracy, a certain truth to it, and it bothered me. Something in the worry of Bella's face, something about the way that my house crumbled to the ground…Fuck.
The air felt different.
Alice was edgy. I had no idea what was going on with her, but I didn't really appreciate her being a bitch when I was worried about other things. Primarily Bella, and her tits, and the fact that she may or may not think that I was bad in bed.
Alice's voice was worsening my headache as I shoved down a Nutra-Grain bar, grimacing at the combination of her squeals and the shitty excuse for sustenance I was scarfing down.
"Hurry, Edward!" she shrieked. "I'm supposed to meet Rose at the school early this morning to copy the Spanish homework, and we're going to be late!" She was almost vibrating with anxiousness, and that shit was annoying.
"Fine," I muttered, tossing the rest of the bar into the trashcan and grabbing my book bag. I wasn't really hungry anyway. I just wanted to see Bella, and make sure that she wasn't anything like the Bella in my dream. I knew she wouldn't be, and that my imagination was just going fucking crazy, but it still worried me.
Carlisle and Esme were in Illinois to visit Carlisle's mother for three days. I guess that he wanted to be with her during this time in his life, and she was too old to fly all by herself. I wasn't sure how that trip would work out, what with Carlisle starting chemo recently. He was to have one straight week of treatment, followed by another two and a half weeks of rest before starting right back up again. But he was a doctor, as well as a major string-puller, so I tried not to be so neurotic. Plus, he'd worked at the hospital in Chicago before he moved to Washington, so maybe he could work something out with the doctors there. Alice was running the house now that they were gone, and it was driving me crazy. I'd almost begged Esme not to leave. Carlisle had vomited on the floor as they scurried to the car to get to the airport, but he'd just smiled weakly and walked off to brush his teeth. It was so goddamn Carlisle. He was always passing things off as nothing. He looked more and more like a corpse everyday, even though he was just three days into his chemotherapy. Obviously, he'd already taken away all of his hair, and he was having a hard time adjusting. He started retching Sunday night at dinner, and Esme was concerned. Generally, patients didn't experience side effects like that until later. Carlisle had assured her that it was nothing, and politely excused himself to hide in his goddamn study. I wanted him home, where I could keep an eye on him. I knew I couldn't help him, but it still made me uneasy.
Alice opted to drive today without even asking me, starting the car and turning on the stereo full blast. The pounding bass made conversation virtually impossible, and something told me that it was purposeful. Alice was being just the same as Bella, but it was harder for her because we lived together. What the fuck was going on? She'd taken Bella home Saturday morning, and after she'd gotten back, she just ran up to her room without a word. That was the last time I'd heard from Bella all weekend, too, and something in my gut told me that both issues were related.
"Okay, so we can make this easy, or hard," I spat, clicking off the radio station that Alice was humming to.
"What the hell, Edward? I was listening to that."
"Honestly, Alice, I really don't give a damn."
"You don't have to be such a dick all the time," she said, irritation lacing her voice. "Now, what do you want? Make it quick, because I like that song."
"I want you to tell me what's going on with Bella. And don't say that you don't know, because I know that you know." I stared at her, waiting for her to answer me. She kept her face turned towards the road, staring pointedly out the windshield. Her knuckles paled as she gripped the steering wheel.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Edward," she mumbled, so quietly that it was nearly a whisper.
"Don't lie to me." What was with women and keeping secrets? It was beyond fucking obnoxious.
"Honestly, it's nothing. It has nothing to do with you." Her eyes shifted a bit in their sockets, and I knew that she was bluffing. I ran over the possibilities in my mind. Naturally, I'd already made a mental list, and all of the things I came up with were completely bizarre with the exception of a few.
"She's not like…with somebody else, right? You'd tell me if she was, wouldn't you?" I could hear my voice cracking, and I wanted to punch myself. Alice sneered.
"Come on, Edward, don't be ridiculous." I released the breath I'd been subconsciously holding, crossing out that possibility in my mind. What else could it be? What could Bella possibly be—fuck. Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck.
"Alice," I growled. "Alice. Alice…Did you…did you tell her?" We both knew what I was talking about. My vision clouded as I glared at her, rage building on the back of my tongue.
"I…Edward, no," she stuttered, glancing at me as I fumed. "No," she repeated, and my chest loosened infinitesimally.
"You swear?" I asked, my teeth clenched. Her eyes flickered to me again before she looked back to the road.
"Yes. Now calm down." I exhaled again, unclenching the fists that I didn't remember making.
I wasn't sure why I was so angry about the possibility of Alice telling Bella. It was something that I couldn't explain, something that sounded stupid even in my head. But it was sort of like this loyalty thing, this bond that I felt with my brother and sister. It was something that united us, something that gave us all common ground. I regularly got along with them, anyways, but we were always so different. I always felt like I was missing what they had. I always felt like I was the one coming up short, where Emmett and Alice succeeded. But now, despite the hole that my father's sickness had made, I felt as if another hole that had already been there was filled. Emmett, Al, and I were all in the same boat, in the same situation, and we leaned on each other. Sure, Rose was there for Em and Jasper was there for Alice, but we were all still alone. Rose and Jasper could never really understand. They could help, but they couldn't heal. We only had each other.
And the thought that Alice could even possibly bring Bella, faultless, innocent Bella, into the middle of all of that killed me. I knew she'd never do that to me. I was waiting for the right time to tell her. I knew I had to tell her eventually, because I was in love with her, and I wanted to trust her. And, of course, I couldn't just avoid the truth and make up some lame excuse when Carlisle came around the house with a shaved head. It would be even more difficult to lie when Carlisle just randomly dropped dead. But this was my issue, and I wanted to do it on my time. Alice wouldn't tell. It meant too much to me. She'd probably been unintentionally avoiding me. I was a fucking psycho for jumping to conclusions and thinking that Alice and Bella's issues were related.
"Sorry," I murmured. "I didn't mean to get all Jerry Springer on you."
"It's okay," she whispered, her eyebrows pulling up. She looked concerned, or sad, even. But I decided not to push her even further.
"If you find out what's going on, just…let me know, okay?"
She nodded before reaching over to turn the radio back on.
*
I was walking. Nothing weird in that scenario. And Bella was beside me, which was normal, too. And I was looking at her like she was made of sparkly shit and rays of sun were coming from her ears like I normally did. I mean, I had just fucked her two nights ago, and I was willing to brush it off when her phone remained busy for a solid forty-eight hours. I knew Alice would tell me what was going on when she found out. But other than that, everything was going normally.
I suppose it all seemed that way, because her thoughts were silent and protected in her skull. But I'd reached to cup her little face with my hand to kiss her before going off to my English class to endure yet another day of Ms. Berry molesting me with her eyes, and Bella just…she…she pulled away.
She jerked her face from my touch, my hand falling lifelessly from her face as she threw me a weak smile and walked away in the opposite direction. I stood there for a good minute stupidly, my mouth hanging open as I watched her retreating form.
"What's wrong with her?" A musical voice asked me from over my shoulder. Rose stood there, Emmett's arm around her waist as they watched Bella crossing the courtyard. I glared at her, a growl building in my chest as I shoved past Emmett towards my next class.
"Jesus, forgive me for asking, Dickward," I heard her call as I walked away. I turned back to her as I walked just enough to flip her the bird.
This was getting really old, really fast.
Bella sat by me at lunch, but she wasn't really there. She was inside of her own head the entire hour, barely nodding or shaking her head in response to the questions I asked her. Frustrated, I stopped asking the simple 'yes' or 'no' type questions, opting to ask her where she was spending Christmas. And the girl shook her head. That wasn't even a proper answer to my question. I stared intently at her for the rest of lunch, willing her to look at me as she cradled her forehead in her right hand. She never did.
"Bella?" I asked, turning to look at her for the thousandth time that day as she sat quietly in my passenger seat. We had been driving in silence. Alice had shoved her ear buds in her ears in the backseat, and I figured that it was to give Bella and I some much-needed privacy as I drove her home.
She turned to meet my gaze, the corners of her mouth turned down. "Yes?" she answered, crossing her arms over her chest. I wished that I had thought of what to say before that split second that I impulsively called her name, but I was coming up dry. I couldn't think of what to ask her, how to make her tell me what the hell was wrong with her. I needed more time to think out what to spit out to avoid looking like an asshole, so I came up with the next best thing.
"Come over tonight."
She seemed to deliberate for a minute, a crease forming on her forehead as she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. She was quiet for a while, and just as we pulled into her rain-slicked driveway, she spoke.
"Yeah, I need to come over," she said, her voice horse. "I'll call you in a few hours." I nodded once, pausing before leaning forward to peck her on the lips. It wasn't affection, or love. It was routine. And it made my chest hurt.
The few hours that I had to myself were terrible. I had just enough time to get myself worked up, going over my mental list of possible scenarios and fuming over each and every one of them. I paced back and forth in my room, grinding my teeth and was, for the first time, glad that Carlisle wasn't coming up tonight. I wasn't exactly sure what to be angry about, because I didn't know what was going on, but I was especially irritable considering all the shit going on and I was taking it out on Bella. I was mad that she was avoiding me, and I was mad at my sister for not meddling for me like I wanted, and I was mad at Carlisle for leaving even though he was sick. I was mad that Esme didn't make him stay, and I was mad at Emmett for disappearing and not hanging out with me like he used to. I was mad that he was turning to Rose and not me, and I was mad that I was the only fucking person in the dark. Bella was the easiest one to blame, other than myself.
I was waiting for Bella to call and ask me to pick her up, and the aggravation that she hadn't yet built up the towering tension even more. My phone sat silently on my desk, laughing at me as I paced. I jumped a little when the doorbell rang less than twenty minutes later, and I nearly sprinted down both flights of stairs to the door.
"Bella?" I asked stupidly as I took all of her in. She stood on my porch, her hair dripping wet as the rain poured on my front lawn. She gave an involuntary shiver, shifting uncomfortably in the drenched tan jacket she wore.
"Hey," she smiled. "Charlie fixed my truck." She gestured towards the shitty red Chevy that sat in my driveway, and I frowned. A fixed truck meant no more rides to school. Did that mean that she didn't want me to drive her anymore? Was I so repulsive to her that she spent hundreds, possibly thousands of dollars to fix her car in order to get away from me? Another shiver ripped through her, tearing me away from my reverie, and I yanked her into the warmth of my house. She pulled her jacket off, hanging it on the hook that now had a piece of tape with her name above it, her teeth chattering.
"Come on," I said, grabbing her hand and pulling her up the stairs.
"Wait," she protested, pulling her hand away. "I'm going to make some hot tea really fast, go ahead up to your room. I'll meet you there."
I cocked an eyebrow at her. "You sure? I can help--,"
"No," she answered quickly. "I don't want you to. I already know where everything is." Her words hit me like a brick as she turned towards the kitchen. Her hair was making a little trail of puddles on the hardwood as she walked, and I stood there foolishly for a beat before I lugged my ass up the stairs.
She didn't want my help? What the hell? First, she hadn't called me for two days after she basically jumped on my dick. Then, at school, she'd pulled away when I tried to kiss her. And just then, she'd pulled her hand away from mine, bossing me around in my own home and leaving me there with my mouth hanging open like an idiot. The rage that I'd tried to conceal before was now boiling in my blood. I climbed the stairs to the third floor rapidly, sitting on the end of my bed and ripping my fingers through my knotted hair. A feeling of dread was in my stomach, and for once, I knew that I wasn't just overreacting. Something was going on. Bella never pulled away from me. Was she afraid because she'd told me that she loved me? Maybe her new vulnerability was making her weird. But that couldn't be it. I sat there, deliberating, when I heard her push my door open. She stood in the open doorway, her hair twisting and sopping wet, holding two mugs of lemon honey tea. My favorite.
It didn't take long for the kindness and warmth of her gesture to wear off. I was standing across from her, screaming at her, as she struggled to defend herself. It was frustrating, because somehow, her comebacks and defenses had strengthened. Bella was usually a stammering, blubbery mess. But as I yelled empty insults at her, my three day-old frustration bubbling over, she cut me back with words so sharp that I almost didn't believe they were coming from her mouth.
"What the fuck is going on with you? Why won't you fucking talk to me?" My voice was raspy and crazed, my eyes nearly popping out of my head as I hovered over her. Goddamn fucking cheat. She wasn't telling me what the hell was wrong with her, and I'd already asked over and over. She stood in the center of my room, her shiny brown hair strangely dull and wild with static, her little fingers clenched into fists at her sides.
"Nothing is going on, Edward. Stop yelling," she growled softly, glaring at me through her eyelashes. Her tea was steaming from my bedside table, forgotten and neglected.
"I'll stop yelling if you fucking stop lying!"
"Keep it down, in case Alice is home," she hissed. I pounded my fist against the side of my bookshelf, a few books toppling down and tumbling all over the carpet.
"Is there something in particular that you wanted, then?" I roared. "Why would you even show your face here if you're just going to keep lying?"
Her chin quivered, her eyes filling with rage-induced tears as she vibrated in place.
"Just…God, Bella, just tell me. This can all go away if you just tell me why you're fucking avoiding me." My voice was calmer now. Her tears always did that shit to me. She shook her head violently, refusing to answer as she mashed her lips shut. "Tell me!" I repeated, taking her face between my hands and shaking her a little. I should have been more careful with her; she was much too fragile. But I was angry, and she wouldn't speak. It had been absolute hell the past three days, and I couldn't take it anymore. It seemed like a short period of time when I thought about it, but three days of of barely hearing her voice at all was like a hammer to the temple. I couldn't take her evasion, her vacant stares, and I sure as hell couldn't take the return of her hollow brown eyes whenever I closed mine. I shook her again, her tears spilling over as she stared at me.
"I…I can't. It's…it's nothing," she whispered, her eyes softer.
"Jesus, Bella," I spat. "How hard can it be?"
"Harder than you think," she replied shakily. Panic built in my chest as I glared at her—what if something was wrong? I went quickly back over my mental list, realizing that not once had I included something actually wrong with her. It was all about me, if Bella was cheating on me, if she didn't like me anymore, if I was bad in bed. I thought that Bella and I together had been wonderful, with doves and fireworks and stars and flying and all that shit. But then, I was concerned about myself, not really worrying about her. Nothing was about her. What if she was sick, or Charlie was in trouble…what if something was terribly, horribly wrong? I was being forceful, and unsupportive. But I wanted to know, and she wouldn't tell.
"Bella, listen, whatever it is, I'll be here. Just tell me. I want to help," I pleaded, my grip on her cheeks lightening.
And the girl just shook her fucking head again. I growled, but swallowed back the rage that was building in my throat.
"Bella," I murmured, leaning into her face. "Please." I kissed her lightly, trying to ease her into just telling me the damn truth, but she did something that drove me fucking crazy.
She pulled away. Again. She jerked her lips away from mine, her tears spilling over her lips and down her chin, onto my wrists.
"Stop, Edward," she whispered, her eyes pinched closed. "Stop this. Don't touch me." Oh my God. This was bad. Something bad was happening, something worse than I'd thought, and I still didn't have a clue as to what it could be. I was pissed off, and worried, and fuck, I had no idea.
I'd been euphoric when I woke up beside her that morning, and I knew that she didn't regret having sex with me from the look on her face. She'd kissed me the same, flashed me the same smile, but it was like a fucking flip of a switch. Suddenly, her face tensed up, her body rigid, and she slipped away with talk of needing the bathroom or some shit. And then…nothing.
I was a Cullen. We Cullen men knew how to handle our shit. We knew how to protect ourselves, and we knew not to get involved with a woman without wrapping our dongs first. It was like, Rule Number One in life. But the only explanation I could come up with was that Bella was pregnant. Fuck. That had to be it. It was on my mental list, and it made almost perfect sense. Something that she would avoid me over, something that had changed after we'd fucked in my bed. Something that would have her crying now, afraid to tell me, of all people. She always told me everything.
Fuck. I couldn't handle a pregnant Bella. I loved her, of course, but I couldn't take being a baby daddy on top of all the other shit going on in my life. There was absolutely no way. I knew—because I'd seen her take it—that she was on the pill. She murmured something about her mother being neurotic, but I knew she was taking it, regardless. And, drunk or not, I always used a condom. No questions asked. It was imprinted in my DNA; I put one on without even having to think about it. So, thankfully, unless some shit backfired, that option was out.
Which meant she had to be sick, or something equally as terrible. Maybe I was jumping to conclusions. Maybe since my dad was sick, anytime anything bad was going on, I automatically assumed that sickness had something to do with it. But she was positively shaking beneath my hold, jerking her head away from me as I tried to kiss her, and I knew that I should stop. But I couldn't. I was afraid, and I saw that she was too, and I wanted her to open up to me. So I kissed her again.
"Don't," she pleaded, her jaw taught beneath my fingers.
"Bella," I muttered, "trust me. I love you." I dipped down to kiss her again, her lips hard and still mashed together. I kissed her zealously, willing her to calm down and tell me what was going on. Right before I was going to pull away and try to ask her once more to tell me what was going on, her lips softened suddenly. She opened her mouth, darting her tongue in between my lips and moaning against me. Her hands unclenched from their fists, reaching around my neck and tousling in my hair so roughly that it hurt. I tensed, worried about her abrupt mood swing, but eventually gave up as the girl let out a positively heavenly purr. I was still kind of pissed, and I still wanted information out of her, but even a gay dude couldn't resist that shit.
"Edward," she whimpered, kissing the edge of my jaw before doing that fucking awesome thing with her tongue again. Worry still danced along the edges of my thoughts, but the scent of her and the feel of her hands grabbing at my hair blurred out all of the processes of my brain. My body turned to mush as she yanked at my scalp, tears still pouring out of her eyes and onto my cheeks. I thought about pulling away to soothe her, because I still didn't know what the tears were all about, and I wanted to know why she was so fucking lost. But her hands untwined from my hair, pressing firmly up against my chest as she walked me back to my bed.
"Bella, what are you…" I asked, attempting to form a full sentence before she silenced me with her urgent lips. Why was she doing this? Don't get me wrong, when I was fucking Bella I had loved every second of it, and it was the only clear memory that I had of the entire night. Bella's body seemed to take every drop of liquor from the pit of my stomach, my mind suddenly fresh and clear. But then, she just…dropped off. She did the next worse thing other than leaving me, and it fucking killed me.
But here she was, straddling me on my bed, the muscles of her thighs tight against my sides as I reached around to cup her ass. She was panting and crying and tearing the shit out of my hair, and it was erratic and crazy and I had no idea what was going on. I felt like someone was playing tug-o-war with my brain, one side fighting for coherence while the other side chanted for lust to consume me. Something was wrong, and all I could think about was fucking my obviously broken girlfriend.
"Bella," I grunted when she pulled away for air, "we should talk. This is—''
"This is what I want," she said sternly, the depths of her eyes churning with a fervor that I couldn't understand. "Listen to me, just this once."
"I can't, I'm being an asshole. You can tell me, just don't…do…this. You know, don't do this just because you feel threatened." I gripped her waist, trying to calm down my raging boner and to speak to her with sincerity that wasn't affected by my nagging hormones.
"I know what I'm doing, Edward. I'm not a goddamn child."
Ah. Lightbulb. So that was it. Bella was tired.
We had all treated her like she was so delicate. She was stuttering, spastic, crazy, incapable Bella, and we all protected her like she was a little kid. She murmured a muffled 'thanks' every time, but I should have seen the hurt swimming beneath the surface. I saw it in her face the night I crawled through her window, and the night she yelled at me from the bench at the end of Emmett's bed. I saw it in her face on the porch of my big, white house, and I saw it when she brushed my wet hair off my forehead with tender fingers. I even saw it just then, as she yelled back at me in my bedroom. Bella was strong. She was strong, and fierce, and so fucking capable that I hated myself for never seeing it. But she buried it back, afraid in her own skin. I protected her, when she only wanted to protect herself. And by doing it, I shoved her confidence further and further back in her mind, alienating her, handicapping her. I was making her incapable. God, I was stupid. As she shuddered above me, her expression wild with a poorly masked loathing, I hated myself. I hated myself for never allowing her to be, for telling her she was all wrong, even though she wasn't. I told her she was weak, and unable. I made her think that she needed me to do it on her own, but she didn't. I'd fooled her, and myself. I had nothing without her, and I tricked myself into thinking she needed me so she'd stay.
"I know you're not," I replied, my voice thick with my shattering epiphany. My thoughts were rolling around in my skull like waves, my mind distant as Bella hesitated.
"Let me, Edward. Just…let me." Her voice was softer now, but she was still begging. She waited, and when my mind finally settled into place, I nodded weakly.
Her hands shook as she struggled to unbuckle my belt, her brows furrowing when I reached down to help her.
"Let me fucking do it," she growled. "I can do this."
Her words had double meaning, and I didn't miss that. But instead of saying anything, I just leaned back and let her do it on her own.
She yanked my pants down over my knees, not bothering to pull them over my ankles. Her hands were still trembling as she lifted my shirt over my head, her eyes hardening just barely when I leaned up to help her take it off. Her fingertips lingered at the hem of her own shirt, and the yearning in my own eyes must have been so evident that she allowed me to tug it over her shoulders and neck myself. I saw her bite her lip in fear as she stared at my still-intact boxers, a strange confidence that I still wasn't used to taking over her features as her face changed. This was it.
Bella ripped my boxers down quickly, leaving them resting over my ankles like my jeans. I lay there lifelessly as she drank me in, her eyes jolting in their sockets as she removed her pants. Her bra was flimsy, easily snatched away, as were her underwear.
The light was on, and it was cold. But we stayed there, unclothed, my feet hanging off the side of my bed.
"Edward," she whispered, a crease forming in her forehead as she leaned down to kiss me tightly. She slowly lowered herself on top of me, taking my face gently in her hands. Her gentleness disguised the determination in her eyes subtly, but not enough to got unnoticed.
I grasped her shoulder blades, the need in my broken heart building as I held her close to me. I knew now that she didn't need me around, and that was why she was crying. She could be without me, and she was letting me down easy. I made her a child. She wasn't, and she recognized that now. My fingernails dug into her back as I saw that clearly, the desperation spilling from my veins as I leaned up to deepen the kiss.
Her hips rocked against me, our skin clapping against each other as she cried and I stared. I was numb, and I couldn't do anything but fuck the shit out of her just so I could feel bad about it later. She grunted and hollered, in such high contrast to the gentle sighs and gasps that resonated in my head after we'd first slept together. She was so angry now, so strong and furious, that I was afraid. Her hands scraped up the inside of my thighs, her breath shaky as she settled into place. I slid into her, a growl building in her chest as she bucked in a harsh rhythm. I leaned against the pillows, glancing over her shoulder at the ceiling, unblinking.
"God, Edward," she hissed, catching her breath. I was still inside her as she slowed, collapsing against my chest as she came down. "I'm sorry."
"No, you're not," I countered, my voice dead. "But it's okay." She pushed herself away, looking into my eyes with confusion.
"Aren't you going to ask why I just did that? I just…I just took advantage of you, Edward." Her tone was bemused, her face foreign and unfamiliar.
"I'm not going to fucking ask you why, Bella," I replied harshly, pulling out of her and shoving her gently away from me. "All I ever do is ask you why. I never get an answer, and I'm still fucking here for you."
"Are you blaming me for all this?" she asked, blinking against her bewilderment. "If you didn't want me to fuck you, all you had to do was say so." Her voice was thick with venom. God, I didn't want to get into this again. All we had done for the past hour was yell and scream and blame each other. It was exhausting, and I was tired of playing the game. Bella had gotten what she wanted, and she was bailing. She had her own confidence now, and she didn't need me. So why was she still here?
"Why the hell are you blaming me?" she repeated, her eyes wide with rage.
"Hm, Bella, I don't know. Why in the world would I blame you? I mean, all you did was have sex with me and then bolt, not talking to me for days after pulling a classic fuck and duck, and then you suddenly show up here fucking crying again, like you always do. I asked you what was wrong, and you jumped on my dick. How could I possibly think something was wrong?" My words were harsh, and I knew it. But they were true, and she didn't need me anymore, so I didn't know why she was still there with me in my room instead of halfway out the door like I knew she wanted to be.
"You're a selfish son-of-a-bitch, Edward. No, you're one better than that. You're a lying selfish son-of-a-bitch. You're a control freak, and a cheat, and a fucking liar."
"I'm a lot of things, Bella," I shouted. "I've been an asshole, I've been controlling, I've been unreasonable. But never, never have I lied to you. I would bet anything on it." My shoulders shook as I pulled on my boxers, suddenly feeling foolish as I yelled at her while undressed.
"Oh, good one," she laughed. "Well then explain this to me. What the fuck is going on with Carlisle!?" Her tears, which had been subsiding, were now leaking from her eyes like a faucet. Her nose was running, her lips pink and swollen as she hugged the sheets to her bare chest. "Explain that to me! Explain why you couldn't tell me! Explain why you had to lie! Because I couldn't handle it? Because you think I'm a child? Spare me, Edward. Spare me all this fucking bullshit." The expletives rolled uncharacteristically off her tongue as she leapt from the bed, tearing the sheet from the mattress to wrap around herself.
"She told you," I gasped. What. The. Fuck. Alice had sworn that she'd wait until it was time. She'd sworn. She'd lied to me that very morning without even a moment's hesitation, and everything was fucked up now. I would know when I wanted Bella to know. And now, beneath the weight of my new understanding, I knew why I hadn't told her sooner. Because I had no hold on her. I never had. I had only tricked myself into thinking that I did. So I kept this secret inside, afraid to tell her in the case that I would lose her. But she'd known.
"How long?" I asked. Bella knew what I meant.
"Since Friday night after we went to Port Angeles."
Unadulterated fury shot through my veins as I struggled to contain myself.
"You knew. You knew, you filthy, lying slut!" I spat the words at her, and she cringed away. I hated to see her hurt like that, but I couldn't let myself love her.
"Edward, let me--,"
"No, you let me, now." I shook so roughly that my vision was blurred. "You came up here after she fucking told you, claiming that you fucking love me. But you lied, Bella, because you felt sorry for me. So I fucked you. I fucking made love to you, and then you ditch. I waited for three days to find out what was going on, I waited for three days for you to even talk to me, thinking that you had fucking cancer or some shit like that. I was worried, so worried I couldn't sleep. And now I come to find that you knew, you knew the biggest secret I've ever had, the only thing I've ever kept from you. And you disguised your guilt and your pity as love. You took everything I had left away from me."
"Edward, I...I'm sorry," she choked, her cheeks stained with wasted tears. She was so helpless, her hair messy and tangled from the grasp of my fingers. Her strong defense was broken, her jaw falling from its hard line as she wept.
"You're sorry," I laughed bitterly. "Yeah, so am I."
A/N: this chapter was very poorly written. i apologize. but it's a bridge chapter, leading to more good stuff. carlisle will be back soon, his return bringing about more and more fucking angst. but mainly, i need reviews, because i was reading this shitty-ass fic posted two weeks ago that used this exact sentence: 'charlie rape me and pull off his pant he was mad.' and..it has about forty more reviews than 'relief.' so help me out! this is a long-ass AN, sorry. anyhoo, angsty chapter, written in the wee hours of the morning, so excuse the several mistakes that I know are undoubtedly in there somewhere. that's what i get for not having a beta. but be patient, young padewans, and review your hearts out. because reviews make faster and longer updates :) see you in a week!
