Chapter Twenty: Shattered
Bella
Edward is still sleeping when I wake up. And I do my best not to move too much. No more than I have to to look at him. The him who isn't fighting me, or pushing me away. Because when he sleeps, he can't tell himself to or remind himself to. And whatever he's dreaming of–on this morning, at least–doesn't do it for him.
I know this because there's a hint of a smile playing on his lips. The very lips that put a huge one on mine last night. Because they played on me... and for me... and most importantly, for him.
No matter what they did or said to me after, they'd already given me that. His weakness for me. That before we got to this place, he would have called a strength. And called it that proudly.
He truly would have...
Would have screamed it from rooftops.
How much he loved me. And wanted me. And how happy he was to have.
I'll never not know that. Or that he still would. Still wants to and be. But just doesn't believe that he should. Keep me or anything good for himself.
Because he thinks I could be happier without him.
Because his thoughts are all twisted up. Mangled. Battered and broken.
His thoughts, not him. Not to me. Not ever to me.
Me... the person who could never be happy without him. Happy at all, let alone happier, like he thinks.
And like the way that I have to find to make him stop thinking.
And will. If it takes me forever. Which is the only thing I won't accept different than from him.
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FBoFW
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Edward
Bella's not next to me when I wake up.
But she's here.
Surrounding me...
Holding on to me with an unrelenting grip...
Owning me...
With her scent. And her surrender. To my MINE stamp.
That she was always proud to wear once I put it on her. Once she let me.
Not just for this reason... this reminder left sweetly under my nose...
But for every imaginable.
Because once I made her love me she did it completely. Loved everything about me. Everything I was, and everything she knew I wanted to be for her. And do. Make her feel and make her know and make her want to keep. Forever.
And she still loves me. Just as much. Just as completely. Even though she knows I'm trying to take it all away from her.
Which is just one more reason I should keep trying.
Because she deserves better.
Better than that.
Better than this.
So much better...
Than me.
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FBoFW
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Bella
I really don't want it to take forever to show Edward how wrong he is. Is thinking...
And it may not happen today...
But I'm kind of proud of my brain right now. The thing it thought up to do to show him. The thing I left him yesterday so that I could do in the best way. Before I came back for him to do something in an amazing.
Show me how he really felt. When he was vulnerable and scared. Because he thought he might have lost me. To someone or something he couldn't see or control...
And, though the first part of that is ridiculous, it scared him enough to make him take control of me. Issue orders I was more than happy to obey.
Comes and Gos that were for him instead of for that better he thinks would be my existence without him.
An existence that will never. Whether he's sitting still unable to move or chasing me because he can.
Very soon he'll see...
That I was and will always be his either way. And his in every. And deliriously happy to be.
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FBoFW
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Edward
I don't see Bella anywhere when I emerge from the scene of my most recent crime against her. Literally against...
And she doesn't answer when I call her name.
Telling me unequivocally that she isn't here. Because she'd never ignore me if she was. If I was giving her a chance to not. And to be where she wants to be. Which is wherever I am. Near me however...
And since she isn't, I let myself relax a little. Not too much... not like last night...
But enough so that I can breathe without it hurting my chest. And my heart beneath it. For just a few minutes.
That I hope is all it will be until I can't anymore.
Because I hate it when she's anywhere but here.
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FBoFW
…
It's been an hour and she still isn't home. Where I can see her, smell her, or touch her. Not that I plan to ever do the last of those things again...
Plan to let myself...
I don't.
And even though it's early, darkness an entire day's worth of hours away, I'm having trouble breathing again. Without that pain that's becoming too familiar to me. The one I inflict daily on myself. And that she's adding to now.
The This is how it will feel when she's gone pain. The This is what winning will feel like pain. The only kind of winning I'll ever know again.
Pain, pain, pain...
That I'll suffer.
Gladly.
Gallantly.
And in silence.
For her.
So that she'll never have to.
Never again.
Once she leaves her suffering with–and–me behind.
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FBoFW
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Bella
"Hi there." Edward is on the couch when I come through the foyer. And when I smile at him he pretends not to have been waiting to see me do so. Or for me at all, I suppose...
But I don't let that bother me. That, or anything else he may be planning with that twitching-in-thought jaw of his. Not that I can see much of it under all of the scruff he's let cover it...
Which, if I'm being honest, bothers me a little. Not because he looks bad... Edward couldn't possibly. And not because it felt bad against my skin when his mouth was against my most sensitive... AS IF. But simply because I miss seeing the chiseled perfection of it. My most favorite of all of his all.
Which he knows... though unfortunately doesn't seem to remember, since he's been so focused on another of his chiseled parts. That I could never deny I loved, too, but by no means loved more than him. The man deep inside all of that chiseled perfection. Deep inside and lost...
Inside something even harder. Now that he's dug his heels back in.
But I won't let that bother me, either. And head up the stairs with the bags full of the last part of my plan to fight it and him. "I'll be back down in a minute and whip us up a tailgate-style lunch. It's just about time for Emmett's game."
That I'm hoping will distract him from thinking about anything. For three hours, anyway.
So after it I don't have to ask Emmett if he has enough energy left to kick his stubborn, beautiful ass for me.
Which he would do without my asking if he had any clue how stubborn his best friend has been being with me.
And how stupid.
Which is exactly why I haven't told him anything.
Because stubborn or stupid or not...
I like his beautiful ass the way it is.
In one beautiful piece.
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FBoFW
…
Watching Emmett's game did seem to distract him. But as soon as it was over, he was back to trying to distract himself. With anything but me.
So I made it easy for him.
I removed myself from his ignoring-me side and went back upstairs. To work on my distraction. The one that I hope will put his focus back where it should be. On us. The happy to be alive and happy to be it together us.
But once my happy distraction was ready, I decided to give it to him tomorrow instead of today. Because tomorrow I won't be able to give him any of me–whether he looks at or not–for several hours because I'll be giving my attention to the sweet faces who don't hide from me what it means to them.
Or what I do. Ever.
One of my students even told me a couple of days ago that he wished he could be in the first grade forever. Because it was the best grade he'd ever be in, he was sure. Because I was his teacher and the best one ever in the whole world. And the prettiest, he added after, with the sweetest turned-shy smile...
That made me, because what girl doesn't like hearing that once in a while? Even if it's not from the person you want to hear it from most.
Edward never used to let a day go by without telling me that exact thing. Or some variation of it.
A him variation. That always earned him at least a special only-for-him smile. Or a weakened pair of belonged-to-him-only-too knees. Mine, of course...
But he doesn't remember that now. Those never-let-one-go-by days. Or the things he made sure I'd never not know he thought.
Because there's only one thing he wants to tell me every now. "Go upstairs, Bella. And do NOT tell me no. For one night, don't."
"How about you for one night don't say that thing that gives me no choice?"
"I already said it."
"Yes, you did. So... NO."
"Bella–"
"No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no–"
"Enough!"
"Okay. Because really, Edward, the NOs have been wearing me out."
"Well, then you surely must be EXHAUSTED now. So, please, use what little bit of energy you have left after your incessant repetition of said wear-you-out words, and go to bed. In the one UPstairs."
"Actually, sweetheart, I'm so worn out from being forced to repeat them so incessantly that I couldn't possibly make it up those stairs again today."
"Bella, I'm not asking you."
"I know you're not."
"Then why are you still where I can see you?"
"Because where you can see me is where I belong when it's time to say goodnight to days we were blessed with the gift of having lived to see the end of."
"Are you trying to make me angry?"
"I've never once done that, Edward."
"You're doing it now."
"Making you angry? Well, I'm truly sorry for that, but I promise you that I'm not trying to."
"GO. UP. STAIRS. BELLA."
"Give. Me. One. VALID. Reason. To. Edward."
"Because I said so."
"Ah, your favorite reason. And mine too, not so very long ago... making you the luckiest man alive... but not so very long ago does not include today, so try again, my love."
"Try again? Okay... how's this? I don't want to look at you! You, with your needs and your wants and your stubborn and selfish disregard for mine!"
Well, that was... harsh. Whether he meant it or not, it...
Well, it...
Hit.
Landed.
And hurt.
And... "Okay," I tell him. And then repeat it. "Okay, Edward." And give him some ground, since he's willing to fight me–and hit–so hard for it. "You don't have to. Look at me... see me for me to keep my promise to you."
"What are you talking about now?"
"I promised you for better or for worse. This is obviously the 'worse' part. So, okay." I grab my pillow from the bed and walk around it and out of the room. Making him think he's finally won, I'm sure. Something I'll let him think for a minute. Which is all it takes me to run upstairs like he wanted me to. Go to the linen closet and grab a blanket. And then run back down.
To show him how hard I'm willing to fight.
By–this time–giving him exactly what he said he wanted.
In a way that he'd never expect.
And won't like...
AT. ALL.
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FBoFW
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Edward
She went. She actually went.
Gave in. Gave up. And went...
And...
I feel like I've been punched in the gut.
And, with every passing second, punched again. Again and again and again and again and...
I can't breathe. Because she gave up. Easily.
Too easily.
Making every time she didn't suddenly and painfully not exist.
Fuck, it hurts...
It hurts so bad...
To get the thing you want but don't.
Never did and never could.
It HURTS.
Like– She's back.
With her pillow and– No...
Bella, no...
"What are you doing?" I ask her, though I know.
"The only thing I can," she answers, the knowledge of how much I don't like it all over her face. "To be fair to both of us."
"Bella, don't. I mean it. Don't you dare..."
Please don't...
Do that thing she just did.
That thing that hits me harder than the other thing she did before it. "Get up, Bella."
"No can do. The trip upstairs for the blanket took all of the energy I could muster."
"You're not sleeping down there."
"Not yet, no... but I will be soon. I really am very tired."
"Dammit, Bella, don't do this!"
"I'm doing what you wanted. Going to sleep where you can't see me. You can't, right?"
"It's not funny, Bella. You know it's not, so please–"
"Yes, I know. And it's not supposed to be. It's merely me obeying my husband. And giving him what he wants. To not have to look at me, like he made clear he doesn't want to do. While I do what a wife should. And do it happily. And easily. And because it's not only my duty as a good, but my honor. To stay by his side. Even if he doesn't want to see me there."
"Please... "
"Goodnight, Edward."
"No! Not goodnight! Get up off of that floor right now!"
"Can't. Too... tired... "
"Bella! Stop this!"
The next sound from her isn't a word. Or a string of them. It's simply a sound. A small as it leaves her lips...
But a huge as it reaches my ears. And my heart. And my mind that can see her even though I can't at this second.
I can see her. Lying there. By my side but not.
Because she lowered herself from it while she stayed at it.
As low as she could.
Knowing it would kill me.
"Bella, please... "
I know she hears me. Isn't asleep yet. Is wide awake and fighting to stay. As hard as she's fighting to stay with me. Where I want her more than anything.
But not like this.
Beneath me in this way.
This way that's wrong. The most painfully wrong way I could imagine...
And never did. NEVER would have wanted her to imagine. Think up or do...
Especially not do... "Bella... PLEASE get up. I know you can hear me. I know you're listening. Please, Bella? Please... It's too much. You know it's too much. Please... "
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FBoFW
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Bella
I knew he wouldn't like it.
Knew he'd hate it...
Knew it would kill him to see me like that.
Beneath him. As low as I could put myself. For him.
And so willing to be there. And to stay there.
No matter what he said. How he pleaded with me. Begged me...
To move. Get up. Rise up...
And fight for myself.
For where he thinks I belong. Above him but no longer with. No longer by his side. Where I'll stay no matter how high or low I have to go to.
I knew he'd hate it... this thing I did...
But I never imagined this. That it would push him this far. To this desperate pulling. His on me as he leans over the side of the bed. Tries to find leverage. Tries to lift me despite not finding it. All the while still pleading... "Don't do this to me, Bella. I can't stand it. You know I can't. Please... "
"I'm not doing it to you, Edward," I whisper, because I can't ignore him. Can't pretend I don't hear him and feel him...
Hearing him–even the things he doesn't say–and feeling him are what I'm doing it all for. All of the fighting. And all of the not when I think I shouldn't. When what I hear tells me to be quieter than it is. And he is.
Be softer. Sweeter. Gentler... "I'm only doing what my heart tells me to do. What it needs me to. To keep it whole."
"You're breaking mine," he admits, his desperate pulling becoming more. And becoming too much for me. Not because his strong arms are proving to me just how much they really are, but because his heart is. Proving how much it is. And how beautiful. And full. Of good... and right... and me. Still...
"I'd never do that."
"You are, Bella. You're doing it right now."
"Then let me stop. And yourself stop trying to make me."
"Please get up."
"I will. I'll get up for you, Edward... if you give me another place to go."
"You know where I want you to go."
"Yes I do... nowhere. Only that's not where you tell me to go."
"Bella... I'm begging you... "
"You never have to do that. You know that."
"Stop twisting everything I say."
"Stop twisting us. And me out of. It won't work. I won't let you do it. I'll never let you, Edward."
"Get up, Bella, please. Don't twist the knife. I already know you're better. You know I do. So, get up and be. And go... leave me... to have."
"There's only one place I'll go, Edward. If I get up from here... this place where I'm willing to be for you... only one. And it's easy... I promise you it is... to get me to go there. You have only to tell me... only have to say the words... "
Please say the words, Edward...
The ones you want to say so much it hurts...
You...
And me...
"Bella... "
Please, baby... you can do it...
Tell me what you want...
Tell me where you want me to be...
"Please come back up here."
Just. Like. That. "Okay."
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FBoFW
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Edward
I couldn't stand it. Just like she knew I wouldn't be able to when she did it. Put herself in a place I'd never want her. At my feet, so to speak. But not...
Not the way I liked.
Not the way I loved...
The way that felt good...
Felt amazing...
Beyond amazing...
The way she meant for it to...
All of those other times...
The times I asked her to. Be at my feet. Or told her to. Ordered...
In a way that she loved. Because I did. Because she let me. Love it and love her and...
But this wasn't like that. Wasn't like that at all. The way that she did this time...
The way that didn't feel amazing or beyond. Didn't feel good. And couldn't have felt worse.
For me. To me...
To see my beautiful, sweet, perfect wife be so strong...
By making herself look weak. And beaten. And defeated. While kicking my ass.
Beating me. And winning. This battle. With grace.
Because she didn't rub it in my face once she had. Didn't gloat or boast or look smug. She didn't do any of that. She didn't do anything at all.
But say thank you. And sweet dreams. And goodnight.
Before she closed her eyes again. Not even allowing them to take pride in her victory. Or my loss.
Because as long as she still had me...
She didn't need anything else.
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FBoFW
…
Just like yesterday morning, Bella isn't next to me when I wake up.
And when I make my way out of our bedroom, I don't see her.
But I do, too.
See her. And myself.
In every room of our house I roll into and then out of trying to get away...
I see us.
Very specific and meticulously chosen-by-her versions of us.
They're everywhere...
She's placed photographs on literally every available surface. Happy moments shining proudly and brightly under their shiny glass windows into our past. The past she's telling me once again that she wants to be our present. And our future. And our always.
The past in which she's made sure I look the same as I do now.
Not the length of my hair, or the scruff on my prized-by-her jaw, or anything so obvious...
But something even more. To me. Because in every single photograph I'm sitting.
In some I'm beside her. In some she's in my lap. In others she's standing behind me, leaning down to my lowered level.
In photograph after photograph after photograph...
That she's made me the star of. The SITTING star. Who was too happy feeling like one to think about how I was doing it. Or that it could ever be used against me. Or to keep me against her, no matter how much below.
I see it, Bella... I see what you wanted me to...
But I had a choice then. I could have gotten up. Stood, jumped, or flipped if I'd wanted to...
Flown...
I SEE, dammit! So, why can't you? See that I can't live this way with you? At this lowered level that I can never rise up from? Never be more or better than?
WHY CAN'T YOU UNDERSTAND? That it's too much? Too much to ask of me and too much to take from you or make you settle for?
IT'S JUST TOO MUCH!
And all I can do is make her see that. And hear it wherever she is that I can't see right now.
In the only way I can bring myself to.
…
FBoFW
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Bella
I wanted to show Edward something. It's why I erected the gallery of us in every place his eyes might fall or land.
And I know he's seen it now. With eyes that aren't still closed. And lips that no longer wear the hint of a smile, though his didn't on this morning. And though I can't see them now...
From our bedroom upstairs where I put our gallery together. Before I put it downstairs to greet him. Say good morning to him. And I miss you. And I love you.
All things he didn't want to hear apparently.
Because I hear something.
I hear glass breaking. Shattering as it hits walls and stair rails and whatever other places he aimed it at.
Telling me without a word how much he hates my gift.
The one I gave him of me. Telling him that he will always be mine. My greatest. No matter what. No matter what he's doing. Or how he's doing it. How he can or how he can't.
"No matter fucking what!" I declare to myself through my tears. And my constricting-with-the-pain-that-brought-them-out throat. Because it hurts. How much he hates my Good morning. And my I miss you. And my I love you.
It hurts!
How much he forces himself to. No matter what I do. No matter how hard I try to show him something that feels better. Than the hatred he has for himself. That hurts me more than he ever could.
Because I love him more than he could hate anything.
Something I'm going to go try to say another way.
Silence the shattering with.
And his determination to not hear this morning.
Because I can't bear that sound.
Like he couldn't bear a sight last night.
Before I didn't make him have to keep bearing it.
Not for another second after the ones he did.
And like I refuse to now.
Bear anymore of this 'worse'...
Because I want better from him.
And for.
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FBoFW
…
The shattering has stopped. I don't hear glass breaking anymore. Or his heart. Or mine, though that's often soundless...
I don't hear anything at all.
And I'm relieved for a moment. And hopeful. That maybe he's calmed down. That maybe he's looking. At something he couldn't help but see. Something I showed him. Something I gave him back.
A moment...
Or a memory...
Or the strength to tell me he wants more of both with me...
But then the relief starts to wander. Drift away. As I drift slowly toward the stairs. Down the first flight of.
Because maybe he'd already broken it all. Smashed everything he could reach. And is hating me for what he can't.
What I put too high. And out of his. Like he thinks I am. And should be...
I still don't hear him as I reach the second landing. The second break in this long, winding path downward. This place to rest. Before I get to the battleground at the bottom. That sounds too peaceful...
Too calm.
And too deceiving.
Like that storm that wasn't and that took my beautiful life away from me. And his from him. Because after it he decided they should be separate. That we should...
Me from him and him from me.
In different places. On different levels. Because he thinks he is...
Different. And too to deserve me anymore.
Something he's wrong about. So wrong...
Like what I see when I look down. At our lives shattered all over the stairs. The ones he carried me up a hundred times. Or ordered me to go up a hundred more. Not just the way he did last night or all of the others when I wouldn't...
But the way he used to. With that look in his eyes. The one that followed me up. And made my hair stand.
The one that sometimes didn't make it to the top. Or let me. Because it would have taken too long. And he couldn't wait...
To take me...
And I couldn't make him. Wouldn't have wanted to if I could.
And let him take me right on these stairs.
Or made him...
On them or the rail above them...
Because I couldn't wait.
Like now.
Like I can't now.
Wait to make him take control. Of our lives again. The ones that I'll never let be separate. Or shattered like this glass at my feet. Crunching beneath them as I start to move with greater purpose. Down to him. Where he is. Where I can see him now. And hear him again.
Breaking...
The silence...
With an angry, tortured scream...
As he swings his bat...
At the us he couldn't reach without it...
The him and the me...
Sending them flying...
Us...
As hard as he could...
Back...
Behind him...
And right into... … ...