A/N:
Real life has finally slowed and I'm looking forward to responding to reviews and spending time on the Twilighted thread.
Thanks to Team SGMR: Orangeapeal, Robsjenn, Sunshine, and my beta, PaintedTeacherLady.
Not safe for work… but read it anyway, you know you want to.
This chapter is dedicated to Jeanne, aka Einfach_Mich
Chapter 13
Pretending
Eleven, twelve, thirteen… I drop the knife and raise my arms in victory. "And the crowd roars. Ladies and gentlemen, Edward Masen has managed thirteen slices out of one tomato! It is a new personal record." I laugh to myself; I love pretending my daily tasks are being broadcast through sports radio. Grabbing another tomato, I try for new record.
Dear Lord, thank you for this chef's knife. Really, thank you for Esme who gave it to me. I never took it out of the package because it looked too expensive, but now that I cook every night, I understand the power of a good knife. It might be my favorite Earthly possession… well… I like my iPod, too…
I hear her key at the front door.
"Hi honey, I'm home."
"In the kitchen."
Bella walks in and drops her bags in the doorway. "Mmm… something smells good." She gives me a quick peck and, with a little boost from me, takes her typical seat on the counter below the breakfast bar.
"Roasted chicken." I give her another kiss as I stand between her legs. "What can I get you to drink?"
"What are you having?"
"Sauvignon Blanc."
"Sounds good, a small one. I'm famished." Bella takes a tomato slice, tilts her head back and feeds it to herself.
"Really?" I've learned over the past few days that Bella always eats when I cook.
"Really, Edward. Tell me about your day."
I take a glass from the rack above her head and pour a glass of wine.
"Good, pretty busy. I got an A on my paper."
"You did? The one from this weekend?" Bella looks as if I won the Nobel Prize.
"No. I didn't get that one back yet. This is a paper from last week— my Methodist Doctrine Seminar."
She claps her hands. "I'm so proud of you. We should put it on the refrigerator."
"It's already there." We both turn to look at heavy-duty magnet holding the paper with a red 'A' on the title page.
"Will you tell me all about it over dinner?" And I know it's not an empty offer. Bella sincerely seems to enjoy talking about my research.
"Yes. I'd love to… it's about The Methodist Church linking to The Evangelical United Brethren in 1968. Several fractions of the religions went ballistic." No, Edward, this is not interesting dinner conversation.
"Ooooh. I love church drama." Thanks, Bella. We clink glasses and take a sip. "Mmm. That's good, really good. Gosh, you buy good wine." Bella takes a big breath and asks the question we ask around this time every night, "So, are you ready for real life talk?"
"Ready." This is the time that we stop pretending we're playing house. We discuss the real life matters that would penetrate our happiness if we didn't compartmentalize them.
"Rose said I just missed you at the hospital. I got there around four," Bella says.
"Yeah. I was there this morning and stopped back for a few minutes after lunch. How did she seem for you?"
"Good. I think she's ready. The doctors, her parents, even Alice… everyone sounds very optimistic about the surgery."
"Alright. Good. Yes, she seemed good for me, too. Ten o'clock?"
"Ten o'clock."
"And The Outfitters will survive without you tomorrow."
"Yes, Edward, in fact, that is real life agenda item number two."
"You're quitting?"
"Stop." Bella glares at me for a moment, then breaks into a smile. "I picked up my paycheck today, with a couple of little surprises."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yep: a big old raise and a letter waiving the condo loan."
"Well, no kidding." Bella raises her glass to me and I join her. "Way to go Mr. and Mrs. N." Since Bella's story of the Newtons' apologetic breakdown, I'm finding more compassion for the couple.
"Last agenda item…" I know what's on Bella's mind.
"The apartment is getting there. It will be ready when Alice moves home next week."
"Is the apartment manager still giving you a hard time?"
"No. I stuck Mr. Brandon on him. He was looking for a job to do and that man is a force to be reckoned with. The manager… the owners, are imbeciles—horrible businessmen. They are getting a wheelchair accessibility renovation at cost and they're complaining. They will be able to charge a fortune for that unit after you two move out."
"They can't do that; it would be against the Americans with Disabilities Act."
"There are ways around the ADA. You can't charge more for the same unit, but this unit would no longer be the same." Bella looks disgusted. "I know, Bella, it's business."
"It's sick. I should get my law degree and work for the ACLU."
"I am completely in favor of that plan." I stand between her legs and give her a kiss. "All done with real life?"
"All done. We're having chicken for dinner?"
I drag my nose along her jaw and inhale deeply. Her scent comforts me, grounds me.
"Mmm-hmm… roasted chicken." I trail feather-light kisses along her neck, "And mashed potatoes," I murmur on her skin and make my way across her collarbone.
"I love mashed potatoes. I can make them while you finish your plate of tomatoes."
"I got a little knife happy again tonight." I feel Bella gently finger my hair as I bend down and kiss her sternum, saying, "I'll make the potatoes. That's my job. I got fresh cream and buttah."
"Mmmm. Buttah? Someone's been watching Paula Dean again."
I start to unbutton Bella's lavender blouse and continue my path to the swell of her breasts.
"Tomorrow night, I'll cook for you. Name anything you want…. you like steak, right?"
"Don't like my cooking?" I undo the next button and continue my descent.
"I love your cooking. I just want to take care of you."
"I don't need you to take care of me."
I go to touch her breast, but her chest caves, pulling away… she stops playing with my hair. I meet her eyes and lean back to get a better look at her.
"Is something wrong? You look pale all of a sudden."
"Um… no. I'm fine. I think I'm just tired."
"Don't you feel well?" I feel her forehead to check for a fever, but she pulls my hand away.
"Edward. No, I feel fine. I'm… tired. I don't want to mess up dinner. What time do you think it will be ready?"
"I can turn it off. Lie down, take a nap, we'll eat later."
"Edward, please… I just… twenty minutes?" I think she's upset, but I have no idea why.
"Yeah, sure… twenty minutes. I'll come up and get you."
"Okay, thanks." Bella slinks down from the counter, grabs her bags, and walks out of the kitchen.
For twenty minutes I try to figure out what went wrong. Alice is well… Bella's job—which I hate—is good. She's famished… she likes mashed potatoes. It must be me. I'm the problem.
I climb the steps and find Bella under a blanket, holding Pedi and a handkerchief. I lie down alongside of her and stroke her cheek with the back of my hand. "Are you crying?"
"No," she whispers, and reciprocates by stroking my face.
"I said something wrong. What did I say?" She says nothing for a moment, but gives me her sad smile.
"Edward…" she begins, but pauses. Uh-oh. She has her Professor of Grace face on, the same expression she used with the Newtons. I must have really messed up. "Why do you like doing things for me?"
"Because I care about you."
"Mmm, yes. Because you care about me." She continues to stroke my face and play with my hair. Her voice is so calm, soothing. I don't feel like I'm in trouble. "I'm a lucky, lucky woman. And, what if I didn't have you? What do you think I would do?"
"I don't know."
"Do you think I could survive on my own?"
"I don't know… I guess so… I… I don't like to think about that. I don't like to think about us not being together."
"Me neither." I'm relieved that her response is so quick, but I'm confused, I don't know where this is going. "But if I had to, if I really had to… I could find a way to survive. I'm glad I don't have to, but I can take care of myself, Edward. Okay?"
"Okay." Are you breaking up with me?
"Oh, Edward. Don't look so sad. Come here."
I scoot up to her and rest my head under hers for a change. She wraps her arms around me and I let her rosemary and peppermint fragrance envelope me.
"What's the matter, Edward?"
"I don't know what I did wrong and I'm afraid I'll do it again."
"You didn't do anything wrong. You feel good making me dinner and I feel good that you made me dinner, right?"
"Right."
"But they feel good for different reasons. I want the joy of taking care of you… I want to express how much I care about you, by doing things for you."
"Like making me steak?"
"Like making you steak."
I look up at Bella, my angel, and recite a line from St. Francis, her prayer, "For it is in giving that we receive?"
"Exactly. Thank you," she whispers and kisses the top of my head.
I get it. Balance. I rest my head back down on her chest.
"So, Edward… tomorrow night, I'll make steak?"
"Mmm." I nuzzle her breasts. I'm so happy here. At the moment, I don't care that I'm not the man.
"Is there something else you'd rather have?"
"Do you make lasagna?" I ask against her skin.
"I make a kick-butt lasagna."
~0~
"Boy, I like this bathtub," Bella says as I lather the front of her body with my soapy hands.
"I like having you in this bathtub," I say and kiss her temple.
Successful dinner, 'A' on my paper, nude girlfriend in my arms… life is good.
"Mmm. I really like this." Bella strokes the showerhead anchored to the side of the tub.
"Yeah. I guess it's nice. It um… matches the other fixtures."
Bella doesn't respond, but continues to run two fingers over the showerhead.
"Um… here, Bella, do you want to use it?" I lift it from the cradle and hand it to her. Bella's breath hitches… I'm missing something here.
"You… you want me to use it?" Her breath quickens.
"Sure, if you want to." Reluctantly, she takes it. Yes, I'm definitely missing something. Showerhead, showerhead… think, Edward. No, I haven't read anything about showerheads.
"Do you want to use it on me?" Her voice is careful, but sultry.
"Um… sure." Turning the showerhead away from her, I pull the lever. The cold blast falls into the water and I wait until feel the water warms against my hand. I rinse the suds from her neck.
"Edward, do your magazines mention anything about showerheads?" No, and I'm fucking clueless right now.
"Enlighten me." Yes, that sounds much better.
"Well… a good showerhead can be a girl's best friend… especially to a girl like me." A girl like her…? Um… from Forks… brunette… Catholic… oh, wait… no… no… no, it couldn't be for...? Could it? Yes. Please yes.
"Show me." I take her hand and place it over mine, holding the showerhead. Bella uses it to rinse away the suds on her chest. Pushing her head into my shoulder, she arches her back, bringing her breasts further above the water, her rosy nipples dipping above and below the water line. My erection thickens as I twist the lever on the back to create pulsating blasts of water.
"Take it, Bella, you hold it," I speak into her hair. Without pause she takes the head, and I use my hands to rub, pull and tease her nipples. "Lower, Bella… go lower." She slides the head to her stomach.
Bella exposes her neck, and I suck a long line of wet flesh from her shoulder to her ear, pulling and pinching her nipples until her moans sound pained. I soften my touch and ask again, "Lower, baby, I want to watch… let me watch."
Finally, Bella submerges the showerhead deep into the water. I use my legs to widen hers. Her back arches further and I feel the movement of water against my thighs as I watch her arm move, circling over her sex. I wonder if I could see more if the lights were on. I'm growing to hate these candles.
My cock wants in on this, and frankly, so do I. Reaching between us, I grip the base and slowly pull my skin, rubbing the head against Bella's back. Fuck, yes. From over her shoulder I watch her rhythm and meet it with my own rough strokes.
"That's it Bella, keep going..." My breath is ragged; I'm already close.
"Wait…" Wait? She suddenly stops and sits straight up. "Are you touching yourself?"
"Yeah, I want to come with you… let me come with you."
There is a surge of water, and suddenly Bella is sitting opposite me on the other side of the bathtub.
"I want to watch you, too," she says.
"You do?" She does?
"Yes… please," she breathes, her dark-chocolate eyes gazing into mine.
Alright, Masen… make this good. I drape one arm over the tub and flex the muscles in my arm and chest. I use the other to return to my stroking. I try to give her my best Ryan Gosling GQ Cover look—I'm squinting, it's a sexy squint—I think. I give a little groan for added effect.
"Stop it," she laughs and splashes me. I shake the water from my face and hair. Good, splash. "You're faking it," she continues to laugh.
"Faking it?" I sound insulted.
"Yes. You don't look like that during hanky panky… you look… different… better… sexier."
"Better?" I can't argue with this.
"Yes, better," Bella says in her sweet, flirtatious way.
"Here, let me show you how it's done," she says slinking further down into the bathtub with her showerhead, her knees in the air. Bring it on.
"Mmm… ohhh… ooohhh… baby. Oh, baby."
I splash her back, and hard. Her stunned eyes spring open, bathwater dripping off of her face.
"Faker. You never call me baby," I accuse.
"You're baby in my head, but I can't quite get it to roll off of my tongue," she mirrors my words from last week and my mouth drops in shock.
I grab her ankles and pull her across the tub, splashing water everywhere and saying, "You bad girl."
She's hysterically laughing as I pull her up to my thighs and begin tickling her.
"No… Edward… stop," she keeps laughing, but I don't let up. I grab both her wrists in one hand and continue my torture tickling of her waist. "Stop… oh, God… stop."
"Say you're sorry."
"So- sorry." I stop and let her catch her breath. I flash my hands, as a tickle threat, at her and she squeals again. "No… no… please."
"So, you're mocking me?" I narrow my eyes at her. My tone is filled with teasing and sarcasm and flirting and love.
"No… no… don't tickle me again…" she's still catching her breath, and sitting on me, her slippery nude body is sliding over mine. Have we never sat like this?
"It's true… what I said was true." Her voice lilts, "You are my baby. I don't say it out loud, but you're my baby."
I'm your baby? It's not very manly. Her baby?
She takes my face in her hands, "You're my baby. Please be my baby." Bella pulls my face to hers, opens my lips with hers, caresses my tongue with hers, sucks my mouth with hers. It's the kind of kiss that says she owns me and I like it. I'll be your baby.
Bella deepens the kiss and reaches down to my need under the water. She grips me the way I like… firm, long strokes, and muscles clench while everything else puddles. But I want to watch… She wants to watch. I pull away from our kiss.
"Bella, wait. I have an idea… Here, put your legs around me."
Bella clings to me like a limpet and I lift us out of the water giving a little grunt as we rise.
"Am I getting too heavy?"
"God, no."
I place her down on the floor and wrap a towel around her shoulders before grabbing one for myself. Quickly, I rub my hands over the fluffy white towel to dry her, warm her.
"What are we doing?" Excitement fills her voice.
"You'll see."
"Edward…"
"Patience, Bella…"
After I secure the towel around my waist, I drop to my knees and pat the water off of each leg.
"Edward…" Her face is splits in a grin and she starts to shift the weight between her knees, squirming with anticipation.
"Okay…" I rise, hold onto her shoulders and begin to walk her backwards. "Ready, Bella?"
"Yes."
In one motion, I turn her to the full-length mirror and whip her towel away.
"Let's watch."
I've never seen this expression on her face before. I think it's excitement… I put my arms around her and move her hair to give me access to her neck and shoulders. Showering her body with kisses, I feel her breath become deep, heavy. Each remaining drop of water becomes my destiny, my next kiss.
"This is my fantasy," I murmur against her skin, making my way down her shoulder blade.
"It is?" she whispers, her voice barely audible.
Bella says something else but I can't hear it. I keep touching my mouth to each drop, feeling one after another vanish under into my lips.
She speaks again.
"What's that?" I ask as I continue on my journey to the next drop.
"Blindfold me."
I peek my head up and lock eyes with her in the mirror.
Blindfolded?
Bella turns to me, her words rushed, "Yes… blindfold me. This is your fantasy… to watch, right? And, and, and mine… my fantasy is to, to be blindfolded. So… so we can have both fantasies at once."
"You don't want to watch?"
"Yes… um… but not right now. I will another time. I want to be b-blindfolded."
"Blindfolded?"
"P-P-Please, will you blindfold me?"
Wake up, idiot, she's asked four times.
"Yeah, of course," Bella's grin widens and I start to laugh, running my fingers through my hair, "sorry, you just surprised me." A jolt of electricity shoots through me and I'm suddenly elated by this prospect. "Um… yeah, okay, well… we need a blindfold."
Blindfold, blindfold, blindfold—where the fuck am I going to get a blindfold?
"Stay here, Bella, I'll be right back."
I rush out of the bathroom and into my closet, frantically searching my clothes for a blindfold. Blindfold, blindfold, blindfold—I don't own any blindfolds. Dear God, help me find a—sorry, not appropriate—never mind. Ties, yes, ties. I quickly pull out each one. Too thin, too thin, too thin… fuck fashion trends.
Suddenly, Bella is behind me, wrapped in a towel. I grab more ties and hold each one up to her eyes.
"Too thin, too thin, too thin," she says after each try.
"Socks," I say and Bella follows me as I hurry to my chest of drawers. Somewhere along the way, I lose my towel. I'm flopping around, hunting through my sock drawer. Real attractive, Edward. Again, I hold each sock—in every variety I own—to Bella's eyes.
"Too short, too short, too narrow… is that one dirty?"
"How'd you get in here?" I run the sock to the hamper in the bathroom and when I return I see Bella heading for the main handkerchief drawer.
"Good call," I say as I join her.
"Wow, you have a lot of these," she says.
"I was about to order more."
"What, do you own stock in the company?" She asks as she lays one out on the top of the chest.
"Yes. A lot."
Bella flashes a quizzical look, but we have no time for this discussion. "Use two," I say and she makes two layers.
With shaky hands, Bella doubles them into a triangle and then carefully folds it into thirds. Watching her work meticulously, instead of scrunching the material together, makes me hard.
"Turn around," I say, she does—a quick measure for length and, "Okay, we're good." I grab her hand and we run back into the bathroom.
"Okay, we need some ground rules first…" I say as photos and articles flit through my mind and organize into a list. "I've read a lot about this. So, first rule, we need safe words. There are three…" Bella looks at me intently, nodding. Yes, there will be a quiz on this. "There's yellow, and yellow means… um… Edward, I'm not really liking this too much and I think we should consider stopping."
"Got it."
"And then there's red… and that's like… Whoa, stop right there. I totally hate what's going on." I am talking so fast, that I have no idea if I'm making sense, but she seems to be following.
"Got it."
"Good, okay so… green, yellow, and red…"
"Wait, what's green?"
"I don't know… um… it must mean, Hey this is great, keep it up?"
We shrug at the same time.
"Okay, got it… Edward, wait… Are you going to tie me up or spank me or gag me or something?"
"God, no… Wait, do you want me to?"
"No… wait… um… " it's only a slight pause, but it thrills and terrifies me, "no, not this time." Thank God. "Maybe never," she says apologetically.
"No problem… "
"Hold on… Edward, if you aren't doing those things, do we need safe words? Can't I just tell you what I like and don't like?"
"Oh. Yeah, good point." More to discuss. "Second rule, Bella… I don't think I should, you know, be inside of you. Not this time." I hate saying this rule, but the thought of getting past Bella's internal wall while blindfolded is frightening.
"Okay…" she looks a little confused, "so, what are you going to do?"
"Um… touch you, make you feel good?" I shrug.
"Sounds good, I'm in."
"Okay, third rule… we need music." Ah, FUCK! As soon as I say it, I want to kick myself. It will take me at least an hour to create a playlist for this.
"No, no, no… don't worry about it."
"No?"
"No, I just… I just…" Bella looks around, a bit bemused, then grabs my hands and takes a few deep breaths, slowing down both of us. "Talk to me… I only need your voice."
"Okay." I decide to ditch the rule about no talking… as well as all the others. I swallow and wet my lips, trying to gain composure. Leaning down, I brush my mouth over hers for a kiss, but stop and whisper, "Are you certain about this?"
"Yes," she breathes, squeezing my hands and then kissing me gently.
I straighten my posture and look down at my little Bella. Stretching the blindfold out before her, I look to her once more for assurance, and she gives me a small, comforting nod.
This is it.
I turn her around by the shoulders and I watch in the mirror as I secure the blindfold.
"Too tight?"
"No," she says, and already her voice sounds as if it is falling away to a different place.
"Tomorrow we order you the finest silk blindfold in the world." Must call Tabetha.
Carefully, I pull at the towel tucked under Bella's arm and slip it away from her body. As if it has become an automatic reaction, Bella covers her breasts and hips with her arms. Huh, so modest… even now?
I reach over to the wall and slide the dimmer switch until the room is fully illuminated.
Bella gasps, "What's that?"
"The lights."
"Oh."
"Can you see?"
"No, I heard." The switch is silent to my ears; her senses are heightened—exactly as the articles said.
I step to the side and look at her. My eyes shift from her flesh to her reflection. When? When did she get so thin? Has she always been…? I don't remember her being so…? Remember? But I see her every night. There's something about a bathroom—nude in a bathroom. When was that?
I begin to take inventory of her body. Her hips bones jutting out… translucent skin stretched over her ribcage… even on her exhale, I can count each rib—and I do … her collarbone… I'm stunned...
"Edward, what are you doing?" Bella's voice is laced with anxiety.
"I'm… I'm looking at you."
"Oh."
"You're… stunning."
"Oh." A shy smile eases her worried face. "Can you hold me?'
"Yeah, yeah, of course." I break out of my revere and slide my arms under Bella's, holding her across her breasts and hips. She's cold, too cold. Reaching over to the wall, I flip the switch for the heat lamps. Bella startles at the sound.
"It's the heat lamps. I want to warm you."
"Oh."
I don't know how long I hold her like this, but I feel and see her body transform in my arms: from nervous breaths and tight muscles, to steady inhales and a relaxed face, to parted lips and loose limbs.
"You're doing so well, Isabella." I'm not even sure what I mean, but it feels like the right thing to say. There's no response—she's completely relaxed.
Taking one of her hands in mine, I rest it on the vanity next to us, her other arm drops to the side, and I step away. I walk backward, keeping my eyes on Bella until I reach my cabinet, open the door and hunt through bottles of GQ's top rated toiletries, until I find what I'm looking for, but never thought I'd have the chance to use. Opening the bottle, I take a whiff—not rancid—and hope Bella doesn't have a nut allergy.
I walk back to her, pouring oil into my hands.
She speaks for the first time, still quiet, "Are you baking me almond cookies?"
"Almond oil," my voice sounds different, deeper, more assured.
I move her lush hair away and find my destiny—the place I first yearned to touch her. Starting with one finger at the nape of her neck, I begin my slow journey down her spine, sliding over each vertebra, and ghosting over the meeting of her cheeks. She does not flinch.
In amazement, I stare at the pink line that remains from my touch. Will she turn pink everywhere? On my knees, behind her, I lubricate my hands again and press them onto her left foot. I stroke my hands over her ankle… calf… knee… thigh… stopping inches before her sex: one leg crimson, the other, alabaster. I continue with the second leg, but when I reach her upper thigh, a soft cry falls from Bella's lips.
Holding her hips, I blow between her legs and she whimpers.
"Patience, Isabella," I say before I plant a kiss on the small of her back and stand.
I begin to massage her neck and shoulders, letting the sweet, earthy scent of almond oil fill the room. And the whole time, I stare; now fully realizing the gift of the blindfold. I can study her body, note reactions to my touch, scrutinize each breath and flush—ogle without insecurity. It is a seminar in Bella.
I massage her left arm and place her hand on top of her head. Bella doesn't move. The right arm, now pink from my touch, joins the first. Moving in front of her, I take in this erotic image—blindfolded, legs, arms, and lips parted for me.
An alarm sounds in my head—this is wicked, dark, ungodly. This isn't me. I close my eyes and bury the thought. Keith Richards wants to keep playing, and I let him.
Now my own body demands attention. Leaning against the wall, I take my warm, throbbing flesh into my oiled hands and stroke myself as I look at her. Before my eyes, her breasts swell, nipples harden, bottom lip reddens and thighs flush pink. I tighten my grip and speed my strokes… I'm rising… close… maybe I'll come right here.
"Kiss me," Bella suddenly cries a desperate plea.
Immediately, I go to her, holding her face in my hands, and plunge my tongue deep into her mouth, controlling her jaw with my hands and tongue. Bella keeps her hands above her head and moans in my mouth; she allows me to take and to give.
This is for her; take care of her. I remind myself, as I pull away.
"Are you okay?" I ask with her face in my hands.
"Yes," she rasps.
I walk behind her again, feeling ashamed, and murmuring, "So good, Isabella… you're doing so good."
"Don't leave again." Remnants of panic ring in her voice.
"I won't. I'm right here."
I slide one hand from her collarbone, dipping between her breasts, to her stomach. I alternate with the other hand, in long smooth, circular strokes. Caressing her belly, under her arms, above and below her breasts, I touch her everywhere she almost needs, until her body begins to quiver.
"Where do you want me to touch you, Isabella?"
"My breasts… please." Always polite. I knead her breasts and tug at her nipples, watching her breath become ragged until she cries out.
"Do you want to come, Isabella?"
"Yes," she mewls.
"Yes what?"
"Yes… please."
Fuck, this is hot.
As I slide my cock between her legs, she brings her feet together, tightening the hold. I don't know if this is something I've read before or if it's my original idea—either way, it's genius.
I begin to move between her slick folds, and just when I'm worried it's not enough friction for her, I observe her husky breath and changing body.
I watch myself in the mirror, my head repeatedly poking out from between her legs. For a moment, I'm reminded of Alice's stuffed turtle and turn my attention back to Bella.
Reaching up, I thread her fingers in mine, and bring them to the apex of her thighs. Our fingers graze my cock as I continue to move.
"Tell me you want to come, Isabella."
"Please let me come."
From behind the blindfold, I see her anguished face. I slide our fingers between her folds, over her clitoris, and Bella's knees buckle as she climaxes. Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her up and continue to ride out her orgasm until her body stops jerking and stills.
I reach over for a washcloth and hold it in front of us as I thrust three more times. Bella's hand covers mine; I shudder and I come forcefully, but silently, filling the cloth with hot streams of my fluid.
I place the washcloth down. For a moment, I stand there holding Bella, catching my breath, and trying to process.
"Are you okay?" I finally ask.
"Yes," she sounds surprised by this fact.
I reach for her blindfold, but, "No…" she stops me, "bed."
Though I'm not sure if I'm strong enough to do so, I sweep her legs, steady myself, and carry her to bed.
"T-shirt," she says, when I reach for the blindfold again.
I put her grey Forks High School t-shirt over her head and, after she slips her arms through the holes, she reaches for the blindfold.
"May I?" I interrupt her.
"Yes."
I take the blindfold off and see her blink and adjust to the light.
"Hi," I say.
"Hi"
"I missed your eyes." I give her an innocent kiss and sweep her hair from her face. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah… I'm… great." Great? Oh, thank God. My body slacks with relief.
"Oh, Bella, I'm so glad." Her grin widens and I feel a new surge of energy.
"You're sure, that was okay?" Too excited to sit, I stand, elated by the success. I pull on my boxers.
"Yes, Edward…" she shakes her head as if she cannot believe it herself, "it was better than I imagined."
"Better? Better than your fantasy?"
Bella gives a little laugh, "Yes, better than my fantasy."
I'm now dancing around the room, on the balls of my feet, completely overjoyed. "Oh, Bella, baby. You should have seen yourself—God, you're gorgeous. Oh, man… so, you'd do that again?"
"Um… yeah… I think so."
"Oh, yes… that's awesome… it will be better next time, I promise… Holy shit, you should have seen yourself—so sexy. Oh, and when I touched you… you got all pink…" She needs to see this. "You need to see this," I grab her hand and try to pull her out of bed, towards the mirror.
"No, Edward, not tonight."
"Aww, come on… you're going to love this…"
"Please, Edward… I'm tired…"
I tug again a little harder; she'll see, it will be worth it.
"Come on, Bella, one look."
"No!" Bella snaps and yanks her hand away. What the fuck? Her eyes blaze with rage for only a second before I lose her and she curls away from me on the bed. What just happened? What is happening?
"Bella?"
She doesn't respond. I look around the room as if there will be some clue, some answer to this mystery. Silence roars in my ears as pieces to a puzzle I did not know existed fall into place:
I tried to open her dress out in the woods—tears
Her reaction to the full-faced photograph
Never any lights… always half covered… in and out of the bath alone… I never see her nude
Oh, fuck.
This isn't simple modesty…
The blindfold
Oh, no. No. No. No.
I clamber onto the bed and trying to turn her towards me. "Bella… Isabella… please." I don't know what to say, "Please let's talk about this."
"No. Edward, not tonight… please, let's go to bed." She pulls away. Her voice is distant, matter-of-fact.
She wore the blindfold for me. I don't understand… I want to understand.
"Bella…" I try to calm the panic in my voice, as I cling to her upper arm. "Bella I want to talk now. I think we should talk now."
Why won't you talk to me? I want to fix this.
"There's nothing to talk about."
"Yes. Yes, there is… "
Bella quickly crawls out of her side of the bed and says under her breath, "I have to go to the bathroom."
She starts for the stairs. Why downstairs? Oh, no. I jump out of bed and grab her wrist before she makes it to the second step. "There's a bathroom up here, Bella."
She freezes, still turned away from me.
"I… I need water," her voice, strangled, distressed. She takes more steps, our arms are outstretched, but I won't let go.
"Isabella, wait…"
"Oh, God."
She clasps her free hand to her mouth and hunches over, pulling at my hand. I grab the banister; if I let her go she'll fall… if I pull, she'll fall. She's teetering on her toes, headfirst, unbalanced.
"Sit."
Our arms are like a tether rope, holding her as she hovers there. Her body swings until her shoulder meets the wall and she slides down to a step.
In a second, I'm there. "You're okay. I got ya."
Her arm, now free, wraps around her stomach. I pick up her shaking body, carry her to the edge of the bed, and kneel in front of her. I can't see her face with the curtain of hair surrounding it.
"Breathe through your nose." Her hand still covers her mouth. Her inhale stutters as she tries to slow her breathing, stop herself from vomiting. "Think of something else… think of something nice… picture something nice." I'm afraid to touch her; I don't want to make this worse, but she's quivering so forcefully, I can see it. I can see the vibrations in her hair, her t-shirt. I hold onto to her bare, shaking knees, hoping to absorb the vibrations.
"Bella, it's passing. You're okay… It's almost done. Keep breathing."
She nods, takes her hand away from her mouth and clutches the comforter on either side of her. Her breathing slows, but her shaking does not.
"See that. You're picturing something nice… are you picturing something nice…? Are you going to your happy place, Bella?" I try to peek up and see her face. "Do you have a happy place?"
"No."
My wounded angel.
"Yes you do. Right here, right here is your happy place." I pull her weary body off the bed and into my arms; she curls willingly into my lap. Gently, I rock her and coo in her ear, "This is your happy place."
Father in Heaven, what do I say? What do I do? My own adrenaline from the near fall fades and I no longer know if it is Bella's or my own shaking that I feel.
"Tell me what you need, Bella. Can you tell me?" Please. "I just want to look at you. I just want to see your pretty face." I tilt her chin up to me and find her eyes squeezed shut, her anguished expression. My voice, barely a whisper, "Open your eyes."
Her face further contorts as she brings herself to blink her eyes open. As soon as she does, her lids brim with tears and she begins to sob.
"Okay, Bella. You're alright." I press her head back into my body and feel her hot tears on my naked chest. "Tell me what you need."
"I… I… need Alice."
It's not about you, Edward. I push away my injured ego and focus back on Bella. It's too late to call, isn't it?
"I know. I know, baby. Do you… do you want me to call her?"
Bella roughly shakes her head and I feel a concoction of relief and fear.
"Okay, we don't have Alice. I'm all you have right now. Will you talk to me? Please talk to me."
Her fierce eyes look up at me and she grabs the flesh of my neck and shoulders, "I'm b- b- begging you. I d-d-don't w-w-want to t-talk about it."
And who am I to force her?
"Okay, okay. You don't have to talk about it. We're done talking about it."
As we rock there, sitting on the bedroom floor, Bella's sobs quell, but her tears continue to flow. She needs this, crying is good, I remind myself. But really, when she cries, a piece of my heart dies.
I think back to a conversation with Alice after Bella retreated to Forks:
"Why was she with him?"
"Edward, I spent a lot of time over the years trying to answer that question. I think she finally agreed to date him when her self esteem was at an all time low. He spent years following her around like a puppy. But once he had her… something changed. She wasn't a person; she was a prize he won. I think Mike convinced Bella that he was the only one who would ever want her."
"How would he do that? How could she believe him?"
"I have my theories."
I have my own theories.
"Bella." She looks up at me with tear-streaked cheeks, but no new tears. "Do you feel a little better?"
She nods and I carefully wipe her tears with my thumbs. As long as she lets me, I'd rather my skin, not handkerchiefs, absorb her tears.
"Do you trust me, Bella?" It takes her some time, but she nods, nearly imperceptibly.
"Good, because I want to show you something. Will you let me show you something?"
I barely give her enough time to consider my request, and I'm bringing both of us up to standing. "I want to… I want to show you my Bella Swan." I hold her hand. We just stand there for a few minutes as I rub my thumb over her knuckles.
"Trust me."
She is clearly frightened, but nods. The responsibility of holding her trust feels heavy, but I'm able. I'm strong enough.
Still holding hands, I lead her to the large mirror over the chest of drawers, and stand behind her. I watch her eyes dart around the mirror, searching for a comfortable place to look.
"Hi," I say, and her eyes snap to mine through the glass.
"Hi," she quietly says and returns my shy smile.
"Bella, look at your eyes for a minute. What do you see there? Can you describe your eyes for me?"
"Red… puffy…"
"Don't do that. Tell me about your eyes."
Bella raises her shoulders to shrug, but doesn't let them rest back down. "I have brown eyes." She says this like she's coming to terms with a genetic disorder. Keep it light, Edward, keep it light.
"Mmm. Yes, brown eyes… chocolate brown eyes. Well, at least right now they're chocolate, but there are different shades at different times."
"Different shades?" Her shoulders rest back down.
"Yeah. Didn't you know? Sometimes… when we're outside, they get really light, like caramel…"
"Really?"
It's a new discovery. She never noticed… no one ever told her; he never told her.
"Uh-huh… and when you look at me in that way…"
"In what way?"
"That way you look at me when we're making love… your eyes turn to dark chocolate…" I bend down and whisper in her ear, "And I love dark chocolate."
Bella dips her head, shy, but looks up at me through her long lashes. I think I have her. I think she's with me.
"And look at that face. My God, that face. Your skin… so soft, so creamy…"
"My bruise," she cuts me off and turns her face, presenting the fading yellow shadow.
"What bruise?" Her eyes come back to mine. "I don't see any bruise."
Her eyes return to her reflection.
"And, just so you know… I could suck on that bottom lip all day. I dream about that bottom lip."
Closing her eyes, she points to her bottom lip and painfully whispers, "My scar."
"It's fading, Bella. Your scar is fading."
"No, no… it's going to stay forever, I know it." I'm not used to this. She works so hard to hide her insecurities.
"And so what if it does, Bella? It will be the prettiest scar the Earth has ever seen because it's your scar. Yours, Bella. Do you understand me?"
She pauses, blinking at me. I almost have her again. Quickly, I shove both hands in her hair and push her locks around her face.
"And this… only this beautiful head of hair is worthy to frame your face." Why can't you see it? I bury my head into her hair and inhale through my nose, cleansing myself. "Fuck, you smell good."
Releasing her hair, I show two fingers in the mirror. "And this, wait until you see this… I just discovered this..."
"What?"
I lightly drag my two fingers along the length of her collarbone, leaving two perfect pink lines showing through the opening of her t-shirt. Bella squints and leans into the mirror before leaning back again to get a better view. Her jaw drops and her eyes meet mine.
"I know, Bella… it's amazing, isn't it? Your blood comes to the surface whenever… wherever I touch you." I raise her left arm and skate one finger over the ivory flesh of the inside, leaving my pink mark. "It's like I can paint on you."
"My God," she breathes, staring in awe.
"Have you even seen anything like it, Bella?" I continue to paint on her other arm.
"No."
I brush the back of my hand over her cheek and watch it turn deep pink, obscuring the yellow.
"It's like… it's like your blood sings to me."
I drag one finger from behind her ear to her sternum and the long, curved red line remains.
"Only for me, Bella…? Tell me it's only for me."
"Only for you."
"And let me show you…" I reach for the hem of her shirt.
"No!" Bella yanks down the hem of her shirt and my hands fly up, palms facing the mirror.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Her chest caves and muscles tense. She is a wild animal protecting her wound, pulling her shirt taut to her thighs.
I pause for a second, but I am on a fast track to fury fueled by unresolved vengeance. I don't know how, but he did this to her—I know it—and there is nothing, nothing I can do to hurt him. I am sorry, Lord, but I am incapable of forgiveness. Burn in hell, you motherfucker.
"You know what, Bella…?" There is no concealing the anger in my tone. "Right now, your body looks…" fragile? thin? injured? each word a judgment, "different… different from what it used to, and I'll tell you why…"
I thread one arm under hers and pull her roughly into me.
"…It is because of this," I say, splaying my other hand over her chest, feeling her thin skin and bones, "your heart. Your heart is so big and open and beautiful…" I try to control my voice, but seeing her tear-filled eyes meet mine in the mirror only intensifies my ache.
"And he… he crushed it. He did not take care of this heart. Did he, Bella?"
"No." Her voice is so small.
"When did you forget how beautiful you are?"
Her lashes flutter over wet eyes, but she doesn't respond.
"He never told you, did he?"
"No."
"He said mean things to you, didn't he?"
'Yes,' there is no sound, only the movement of her mouth.
I press her body, her heart, firmly to mine with my hand and speak in slow, certain terms, "I will take care of this heart. I will protect this heart. Trust me."
It is a command, not a question, yet I wait for her response; it doesn't come. I turn her to me and dig my hands into her hair, lifting her face to mine. "I won't hurt you, Bella. With God as my witness, I won't hurt you. Trust me." My fingers press into her scalp and I feel my own hair stand on end, as I fear the inability to fulfill my commitment.
As her brow creases, she says with little breath, "I trust you, Edward. I trust you." I press my lips to her forehead and say my silent prayer: Dear Lord, protect her from my mistakes. Strengthen me; empower me to keep my promise.
"You're so beautiful, Bella… so beautiful," I mummer against her skin. Gently, I turn her back to the mirror, and see the imprint of my hand remaining on her flesh.
Bella traces my mark with her fingertips and lets her hand fall the front of her shirt. Shaking her head, and fighting for a smile she says, "I used to have boobs."
I wrap my arms around her middle and Bella reaches behind us and holds the back of my thighs.
"You still have boobs, Bella." Raising my arms, still crossed, I cradle each soft breast in my hands. "I love your boobs. At any size… I love your boobs."
"Can you hold me for a minute?"
"Like this…? Hold you like this?" I feel her thumbs make small circles against my thighs.
"Yes… like this."
I watch us in the mirror, just breathing. And Bella is watching me now. Relaxing my jaw and softening my face, I will my frustration and anger to lift. I don't want to ruin this picture… this exquisite picture of my love and me.
"You're beautiful," she says softly, warmly.
Strangely, for the first time in my life, with Bella in my arms I feel I might be.
Bella's head falls back to my shoulder, exposing her elegant neck. I tilt my head and suck the skin where her neck meets her shoulder. Her thumbs circle deeper, harder into my thighs and I match the rhythm, gently brushing my own thumbs over her nipples.
The flesh in my mouth grows warm and salty with her sweet sweat. I lift her breasts together and roll her stiff peaks in between my fingers and thumbs. I feel her heart thunder against my chest.
My thighs tingle and I swell against her body.
In a voice deeper than my own I say into her neck, "I wish you could see yourself come. You are glorious when you come."
Bella releases her hold and rests her forearms on the dresser.
"Show me."
Oh, God. My stomach coils and my erection hardens. I place my hand on the small of her back. "Are you sure?"
Her eyes stay fixed on her own, only inches from the glass as she says, "Yes," as if she's answering her own silent question.
I step away and pull off my boxers. Lifting her hips, I place her farther back, straightening her body. My arousal mixes with insecurity. A new position... I've never done this before. Of course I haven't… I haven't done anything before, why would this be any different? Big night.
I glide my finger over her slit and slide it into the hot opening of her sex. She's so ready. "Open your legs a little more."
She does, but her eyes don't leave the mirror.
I say a silent prayer... please no pain… and I slide into her… inch by blessed inch without resistance. She trusts me. Dear God. Both of our heads drop as we share a collective moan.
"Bella… do you… can you…"
"Yes, I feel it…"
I begin to rock into her with shallow, gentle, slow movements. I relish how her body pulls me into her… it's a new sensation. I look down and watch myself slide in and out of her… alternating between warm liquid and cool air. I stare at my erection coated in her come disappear inside of her, over and over again.
Bella moans and I look back up to see her head drop.
"Tell me how it feels, Bella…"
"I want… I want to feel all of you…"
I hold her hips and fight against my aching need for speed; slowly, I slide into her… feeling her stretch and clench around me. When I think I can't go any further, I do, thrusting the last inches of myself until my hips meet her backside.
Bella cries out. I want to see her. I run my fingers along her scalp, curl my fist, and, as gently as I can, lift her head. "Watch. Look… look at your eyes… those eyes are for me. Fucking beautiful."
"Beautiful," she whispers back, looking at me. I release her hair, but she continues to watch.
"Oh, God…" I groan and start to experiment with each stoke… tilting my hips down and feeling her back wall… grinding in circles… lifting my pelvis and diving into her with short shallow…
"Augh…" Bella cries, "right there… right there…" Did I find the ridge? I concentrate on hitting the spot in short, quick strokes. I feel my legs weaken as my own need for something else begins to grow. I lift the back of Bella's shirt and lick the sweat off her spine. Looking up, I see her breasts sway with each movement—her dark eyes glancing between us.
"Bella… I need to…" Oh, God. My stomach clenches at the words that waver on my lips… "I want to… " be rough, thrust hard. "I need to… ungh…" muscles in my thighs quiver with my restraint.
Bella lays her body flat on the dresser; her hands stretch out and press against the mirror. "Take me," she whimpers and I nearly climax at her words.
I place one firm hand on her back and one on her hip. Pulling out nearly every inch of myself, I pause for a split second and thrust everything into her, meeting my hips with hers. We both cry out as bottles and loose change and, who the fuck knows what else is on this dresser, crash around us.
I wait… hold… "Bella…?"
"Again."
Thank you.
Slowly, I slide out of her and slam back in, feeling my skin slap against skin. And I don't stop—slow then fast… skin meets skin in steady, powerful movements. I look down to see her ass redden by my force. I want to drive the belief of her beauty into her until she owns it for herself.
"Faster… please…"
And I feel that everything that ties me to this Earth has been cut free. I reach over her and grip her shoulders, holding her steady as I begin my assault. I pump into her quick and hard, feeling her walls pull at my cock. I'm rising… my fingers, my toes, all of me comes alive as sweat pours off my face.
I watch the obscene film play out in front of me and I'm glad Bella isn't watching. I bite my lip and try to stifle my mangled cries and double my efforts to send her over the edge. Her body hardens…
"Oh, God… I'm gonna come… too hard," her voice is high pitched, frightened.
"I got ya…" I slide my arms between her sweaty body and the polished wood. "I have you… Bella, let it go."
"No… too much… too…"
"Come on, Bella." I continue to drive into her; I want her orgasm more than I want my own. I struggle to hold onto my release so I can be strong enough to carry Bella through hers.
I lift her body and slip one hand towards her sex. With slight contact, she explodes. Bella's back bows and slams into my chest… arches… and slams again. Her entire body flails as she convulses; I use all my strength to hold her. There is a ferocious tightening around my cock and then I feel her body pushing me out.
I slam back into her and she cries out. A flush of hot liquid hits my pelvis… my balls… my thighs. I can take no more. Holding Bella, I drop to my knees and thrust up into her once more, finding my release and losing myself… I roar her name as I pulse my seed into her.
I am dripping and numb and tingling and happy… and Bella is… silent… lassitude….
"Bella…?" Her folded body is still. "Breath, Bella."
Birdlike ribs expand against my body and she exhales a mournful keen. It is the sound of slipping off the edge. I know that sound. I've made that sound.
I feel her sobs from the inside.
My heart shrivels. There are no words.
Carefully, I lift her as she reaches for the bed a few feet away.
I mean to mutter something soothing, but I don't know if I do. She is inconsolable. I'm bewildered. I steady her as she crawls into bed and seeks, in vain, to find the corner of the sheet.
I stand and pull the covers over her. I put on my boxers, looking down at my shattered woman, and search for something to say. Some words, Lord, please.
"T-T-Ten…ten…" she manages between the sobs.
"Ten what, Bella?"
"M-minutes…"
I look at the clock, 11:27, what happens in ten minutes?
"I… I n-n-need to… cry… f-for ten… f-f-fifteen mi-mi-minutes." Bella reaches for the nightstand drawer and retrieves a fresh handkerchief. I should have done that for her. What am I doing? Finally, I clear away the fog and stop observing her devastation.
I clamber into bed behind her, prop myself up on my elbow, and pull her into me.
"F-F-Fifteen…"
"Shhh. You can cry as long as you want, no time limits."
Bella holds the handkerchief over her eyes and I know this is her cue for embarrassment.
"Are you… why are you… " Fuck. Where are my words?
"I'm so… em-em-embarrassed… I'm s-s-sorry."
"What? You're sorry? What the fu- What are you sorry for?"
"I… I… I…" She's spinning out of control.
"Slow down, Bella. Let's take a minute to breathe. I want you to breathe with me."
I give slight pressure to her abdomen and feel her exhale. I loosen my hold and Bella gulps a belly full of air, sending her into a fit coughing, sobbing, and gasping.
"Slow… Breathe with me, Isabella. Inhale… exhale…"
After a minute, the tears continue to flow, but her breathing steadies.
"There you go, little one, you're alright."
"I… I… don't know what happened. I… lost control… and, and, and…"
"Slow," I say, and it sounds like a warning.
Bella swallows and takes a breath before continuing, "I'm s-s-sorry for what I did."
"For what you did…? You mean the way you… you orgasmed?"
Bella gives a small nod and weeps harder, burying her head in the handkerchief. Oh, damn it.
"Bella, what you did was… special. I think it's a special way some women can orgasm. It's just another way that you're you… and unique… and wonderful… and special." I sound like an idiot.
"I think I p-p-peed on you."
"Oh, Bella," I turn her around and pull her into my chest. "No you didn't. You came… like… hard, that's all." Eloquent, Edward, really eloquent. "I've read all about it. I have some articles downstairs. Do you want to read them?"
"No…" Bella sniffles, "maybe." I stroke the top of her head as she buries herself in my chest. So much crying tonight… we need more laughing.
"If you peed on me, do you think you'd still be in this bed right now?" She's quiet. Too soon? "I'm sorry… bad attempt at humor."
I try another approach, "Do you want me to get you a subscription to Cosmopolitan? I realized with the showerhead thing I'm only getting half of the picture." Bella is falling apart and I'm making pee jokes and talking about subscriptions to Cosmo. Yes, I would make a great therapist.
"N-no… thank you."
"Do you want to… maybe we should get some books? We can find books and read them together. We'll buy them online so no one sees us at Borders. Would you like that?"
Bella nods and I kiss the top of her head.
"Edward… I was s-s-scared."
She wanted me to stop; I asked her to trust me.
"I should have stopped… I… I'm the one who should be sorry."
"It was t-t-too late… you couldn't."
Maybe I could have. If I were a man, an experienced man instead of a boy, maybe I could have.
"Bella, I kept going because I… I don't know… I don't want you to be afraid to let go, to feel good. But I want you to feel safe with me. If you don't want to have sex ever again, that would be okay." And it would, because as good as it felt, this whole night scared me, too.
"No. I guess it did feel good. And I like making… having sex with you. It makes me forget everything."
"I know what you mean. It makes me forget, too. It's the ultimate distraction," I say more to myself than to her.
Bella lifts her head, gazing at me. Thankfully, she doesn't ask, but stretches up to kiss the side of my mouth. I return her gaze and stroke her cheek, watching her eyes fill with tears again.
I place my fingers under her chin. "This isn't only about making love, is it, Bella?"
She closes her eyes and more tears fall.
"Overwhelmed?" I ask.
She nods. "S-S-So overwhelmed."
"Mike?"
Her weeping becomes audible again. Bella turns away from me, but slides back until she is against my chest again.
"Bella, is that why you want to talk to Alice? Because you need to talk about Mike?"
I simply hold her while she cries. I'm sorry you're hurting, Bella.
"You… you shouldn't have to hear about him."
The only thing worse than hearing about Mike Newton, is hearing Bella cry.
"Bella, let's play our game… remember our game from the hotel? Tell me everything that's on your mind, no filtering."
She sniffles, "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely."
"Okay… um… he was sort of mean."
"Mean, how?"
"I wasn't pretty enough."
"He said that?"
"I was too… chunky."
"He was wrong."
"And now I'm t-t-t-too skinny… and Al-Al-Alice… and R-Rose…"
"Slow."
Bella takes a shuddering breath.
"They're the p-p-pretty ones. And I'm the nice one."
"You're nice and pretty."
"And I let him be mean to me."
"Why?"
"I don't know… and L-L-Lauren… Lauren is so pretty and he told me that… he said she was so p-p-pretty…"
Enough.
"Fuck Lauren Mallory, she's a skanky whore. She has nothing on you, Isabella, nothing and never will. And I'll tell you another thing, if Mike were alive, I'd fucking kill him. I'd kill him with my bare hands." I'm going to make a great minister.
Bella twists to look up at me, "You sound exactly like Alice."
"Yeah? Good. Maybe I should channel her more often."
Bella's bites her lip and I know there's something else she wants to say.
"No filtering, Bella."
"I don't understand… you're patient, and kind, and protective… I don't… I don't deserve you."
"Deserve me? Ah, fuck, Bella. Can't you see that I'm head over heels? I'm the undeserving one. You are the… the coolest thing that's happened to me in years." Coolest thing that's happened to me in years? Brilliant.
Bella turns fully towards me, folding her hands to under her chin, and looking up at me for a long time. Her tears have stopped.
"You're the coolest thing that's happened to me, too, Edward." she says softly, but then her brows knit together with sadness. She speaks so quietly, it is difficult to hear, "Edward, I get scared when I go to sleep."
"Nightmares?" My tenor matches hers.
Bella shakes her head. "I'm frightened you'll be gone when I wake—that you aren't real. I'm scared that I'm going to wake up and be married… or I got hurt in the accident…" Bella's eyes scan the room, "all this is a hallucination and I'm really dying in a limo somewhere… maybe I'm dead. It's not the nightmares I fear the most, it's this dream."
All my air escapes me.
"This is real, Isabella. I'm real… and so, so flawed. But if I'm wrong—if you open your eyes and you're in someplace strange—look around, because I'll be there. I'm not going anywhere without you, Isabella."
Bella wraps her arms around my neck and presses her body into mine. We don't speak, she doesn't cry, we simply press the full length of our bodies against one another. After a minute, Bella peels herself away and sits up on the edge of the bed. "I need to get cleaned up," she whispers and stands.
"Wait," I say, sitting on the edge of the bed, offering my hands. She gives me her hands… I stare at my feet, unable to look at her as I ask, "May I come with you? May I wash you?"
"No," she whispers. "I need a minute alone."
"Are you… are you going to be sick?"
"No."
"Do you think… I'm sorry to ask this, but… do you think there is a part of you that doesn't want to eat… that wants you to get sick?"
"No." So quiet, but assured.
"If you… if you think there is, will you tell me?"
"Yes."
I nod, still unable to look at her, my unshed tears building pressure in my eyes.
"You know that, when I want you to eat, it's not because I want this…" I pull her to me as I lean in and kiss her belly through her t-shirt, "to be any different. I don't care about your size or shape. You're pretty, always."
"I needed to hear you say that."
I nod and continue, "And you should know…" I clear my throat and aim to steady my voice, "when I first laid eyes on you in the hospital… I didn't see your face or body. I saw your soul, Isabella." I lay my hand over her center. "This is only a shell. A beautiful shell that I adore, but only a shell."
Bella lifts my chin, looks into my heart and says, "Thank you." She bends down, kisses me softly, and whispers, "Back in a minute."
I watch Bella retreat into the bathroom and glance at the clock. 11:42—exactly fifteen minutes of crying.
A/N:
The next chapter takes place on Saturday, one day before Carlisle's deadline. Wear your seat belts.
Although Bella's painful sex might be psychological, there are of plenty physiological reasons for painful intercourse—your gynecologist is your friend.
If you are interested, I've written an account of my WFE premier experience under the story title, "Evian for Animals."
And last, my pimp wanted me to tell you nominations for the Avantgarde Awards are now open. www (dot) avantgardeawards (dot) com. These awards are aimed to support those of us who are writing fanfic for the first time: kisbydog, phoenix fan 1, writingbabe … so many good, new writers. Share the love.
And oh, reviews are better than dark chocolate and I love dark chocolate.
Regards,
Liz x