A/N
Hello everyone! Thank you for those heart-felt reviews to the last chapter.
I hope our friend Real Life is treating you well. She is kicking my butt.
A special thank you to songster51 and xoEMC – lovely choices.
And to the usual suspects: orangeapeal, Sunshine (who beta'ed this), and robsjenn for all they do.
So… where were we?
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From Chapter Twenty-seven:
I hate this waiting room. The furniture is uncomfortable and looks cheap. When I'm a therapist, if I'm a therapist, Esme will help me design my office.
Even his wood laminate nameplate looks cut-rate: Dr. Jack Sparrow. As soon as I saw his name on Jasper's list of recommended therapists, I knew this was my guy.
Oh, please God, let him have eyeliner and a braids in his hair. It would make my day.
"Mr. Masen," the tall receptionist calls to me, "Dr. Sparrow will see you now."
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.
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Chapter Twenty-eight
One of Two Ways
.
.
"Ed, it's nice to meet you, I'm Jack Sparrow," he shakes my hand as I enter his office.
"Edward, it's Edward," I gently correct him. No, absolutely not the Jack Sparrow I was hoping for. There are no earrings, no eyeliner. He looks more like Benjamin Franklin than Jonny Depp.
"Have a seat." He gestures to a couch and two wingback chairs, prompting me to make a choice. I'm being tested. I pick one of the two chairs and the founding father picks the other.
"So, Edward," he pronounces my name carefully to demonstrate he's listening, "tell me what brings you here today." He takes out a folder with the intake papers I filled out and a yellow legal pad as he looks at me through his small, frameless glasses. I'm reminded that Benjamin Franklin invented the bi-focal.
"I, I um… I'm sorry, how would you prefer to be addressed? Dr. Sparrow? Jack?" Captain? I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. How does Ben Franklin get through the day when people ask him about his namesake?
"You can address me in anyway you feel most comfortable." Another test.
"Okay, Jack… why am I here? Um, well, one of my friends, Jasper Hale, he's a psychologist here in Seattle… he suggested it might be time to return to therapy."
Jack Franklin begins to scribble on his pad and asks casually, "So, you've been in therapy before? How long ago was that?"
"The last time was the college counseling center, about six years ago-just a couple of sessions."
"And before that?"
"I'm sorry, can I ask you something, Jack?"
"Certainly, Edward."
He crosses his legs, and I do the same.
"How do you handle the teasing? I mean, people must ask you about your name all the time."
"My name? I'm not sure I follow you."
"Jack Sparrow… Captain Jack Sparrow?"
He cocks his head, perplexed. "Captain Jack Sparrow?"
"Yes, the pirate. Captain Jack Sparrow, the pirate."
He pauses for a moment, then laughs a round, jovial sound. "Is there a pirate with my name? I had no idea."
No idea? I picked a therapist who lives under a rock? I miss Liam, my child psychologist… but I'm not a child. Should I let it go? No.
"He's a fictional pirate, from The Pirates of the Caribbean movies."
"Sorry, I'm not familiar with the movie," he smiles and forces a chuckle.
Movies, plural… and how the fuck can you not know about them?
"So, Edward, let's get back to your counseling history. You saw a counselor before college?"
"Yes. Ages sixteen to eighteen."
Jack begins to flip through my papers, getting a quick picture of my background. He should have done this before I walked in.
"You're twenty-six now, right?"
"Yes."
"And you started counseling for?"
"Um, I was having a hard time."
"With?"
"My parents were murdered and I had to move in with some friends of the family. Um, I guess I took it a little hard. Can we get back to the movie thing for a minute?"
"No, I'd like to stay on this."
I groan and shove my fingers in my hair. "You've never heard of the Pirates of the Carrabin films? There were like three or four of them. Don't you go to movies?"
"Actually, my wife and I consider ourselves film buffs."
I stand and start to pace. "Do you mind if I stand?"
"Whatever makes you comfortable, Edward."
"Okay, okay, Jack, this makes sense. So, you and your wife probably go to small indie films, right. No block busters?"
"We like the block busters, too."
Clutching the back of my chair, I quietly ask, "Then how the fuck could you miss The Pirates of the Caribbean?" This makes no sense, who is this guy?
"Oh, yes, the Pirates of the Caribbean, I think I do remember that film. I'd like you to have a seat, Edward. Let's just relax for a minute."
Oh, shit, I think I've scared him. I quickly sit down and calm myself. What were we talking about?
"Sorry, Jack."
"Edward, it says here that you aren't currently on any medication. Is that correct?"
"Yes."
"And you've never been diagnosed with anything other than depression and anxiety."
"Correct, well, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder." I say quietly, showing I can be a good patient.
"Can I get you a glass of water? Something to drink?"
"No, thank you."
"I'd like to put away the movie talk for a few minutes, okay?" Shit, he is using this cajoling voice that drives me insane. Hold it together, Edward.
I nod and avert my eyes, giving him control.
"We don't have to talk about your parents right now. How about you tell me a little about yourself. What do you do for a living?"
This I can do.
"I'm a student, a seminary student. I'm on the ordained track to become a Methodist minister."
"Oh, I'm a Methodist," he continues to write on his pad. He really should be better at making eye contact during a session; maybe I should tell him that.
"I'm not certain about it though, um, recently I've thought about going for my PhD in Clinical Psychology."
He stops writing mid sentence and looks up at me. "Really, interesting, why the change in plans?"
"Um… well, Carlisle, he's the guy that took me in after my parents… you know, he and his wife Esme, and anyway, he's also my mentor at the seminary, and he thinks I should consider going for the PhD."
"And what do you think?"
"Ahhh, I don't know. I keep thinking God is going to give me the answer, but it hasn't happened yet… Can I ask you another question?"
"About the movie?"
"Mmm-hmm."
"Sure, Edward." He's resigned to letting me have my way, but he seems in good humor about it.
"You know who Johnny Depp is, right?"
"British actor?"
"No, no," I shake my head, and calmly continue. "He is an American. He started on a TV show called 21-Jump Street and has had an amazing career since then. Oscar nominated…"
"Oh, yes, I do know who he is. I don't know why I thought he was British or French or something…"
"Yes, yes, I think he lives in France with his girlfriend."
"Okay, yes, glad we cleared that up. And he was in the pirate movie?"
"Yes, exactly."
"Okay. How about this, Edward, I'll rent it and the next time you come, we'll talk about the film. How does that sound?"
I don't know how to respond. Is he mocking me?
"Do you… often think about this movie, Edward?"
Uh-oh… he thinks I'm crazy.
"I, ah, no… no I don't. I'm sorry... I just thought that… I figured that… I don't know…" I sigh, swimming through frustration and embarrassment and try again. "I thought that with your name, every time you used a credit card or introduced yourself, maybe you'd get the same questions and jokes… and…"
I keep my elbows on my knees and play with my fingers, but we both stay quiet.
"And…?"
"I thought it would give us something to talk about."
"Edward, you said your friend Jasper thought it was a good idea for you to return to therapy, do you think it is a good idea?"
Good question. Things have been great with Bella the last couple of weeks, really good. Maybe we've made it through the tough spot.
"Murdered parents? That's some pretty heavy stuff."
"Yeah, I know." I say, continuing to crack each knuckle.
"You don't want to be here, do you, Edward?"
"No, no I don't, Dr. Sparrow."
I meet his eyes and I know he can see my fear.
"But you know you should?"
Reluctantly, I nod. "I don't know, maybe."
He's quiet for a long time. I now notice the clicking clock on the end table. It is very loud. I should tell him how annoying it is when there is silence like this. It's pounding in my head.
"Can I get that glass of water, now?"
"Sure." He goes to a small refrigerator and retrieves a bottle of water.
"Do you have Tylenol or Advil or something?"
"Yes." He says, walking to his desk and getting a bottle of Tylenol. "Headache?"
"Yes. It just came on."
I thank him and take the pills, sitting back more comfortably in the chair.
"I'm just going to ask a few simple questions, Edward."
"Okay."
We spend the next several minutes going through the basic details of my life. Where I grew up, when I moved to Seattle, hobbies, college major, nothing of great importance. My answers are honest and brief. For some reason, I become very tired and close my eyes while we talk.
"How do you sleep, Edward?"
I open my eyes. "Too well."
"What does that mean?"
"Um, my girlfriend has nightmares, or had nightmares. She would wake up in the middle of the night, but I slept through most of it."
"What does she have nightmares about?"
"She was in a car accident the day we met." I stop myself from going into the details, when I play this all back in my head, it sounds like too much to go in to. "Yeah, they're related to that."
"There's a lot you need to talk about, isn't there?"
"Yeah, but… not today." I meet his eyes—the final test. Will you let me off, Jack?
He looks at his watch, then at the clock, and finally the legal pad. Come on, Jack, you don't want to get into this either.
"Well, we're almost out of time."
Oh, thank God.
"I'd like to see you again next week, Edward."
"Next week? I was thinking that maybe I could just call for a session when things come up," I say, with hapless guilt.
"Edward, if you leave without making an appointment, I doubt you will come back." He gives a concerned frown with his wiry brows pulling together.
He's right. Is he the right guy for me? Maybe I should try someone thinking about my past tires me.
"Edward, we can take this slowly."
Slow is good.
"Do you have anything available on Monday?" he asks.
"Monday? Today is Friday; Monday isn't taking this slowly."
"Do you know what the MMPI, Edward?"
"Yes, the long diagnostic test. I'm familiar with it."
"I'd like you to take it before our next session. If you take it on Monday, we can meet again on Friday."
I drop my head back.
This is it, isn't it, God? I'm starting therapy again.
"Okay, Monday." I give in.
"I'll watch that pirate movie this week. We'll talk about it on Friday."
I press my lips together and give him a nod. He's trying. Maybe I can help him; he could use some guidance.
~o~
I drive to campus, and stop at the chapel before my meeting with Carlisle. This is my preference, me alone in His House.
Hi God, the question about my future came up again today, and I'm wondering if you have any messages you want to send. What is my calling? Where do you want me?
I sit listening for the quiet voice of God for a long time.
We do still talk, don't we God? I worry sometimes we don't as much as we used to. I'll keep working on that. Well, Jasper suggested I apply to PhD programs now, and make my decision later. I'm going to go with that as a message from you.
If you want to give me a more obvious sign about my future, I'm open. I laugh at myself, knowing how ridiculous I sound.
My cell phone buzzes in my pocket and I know who's texting.
Hold on, God, it's Bella.
Edward,
How was your session?
Sent you prayers
all morning.
-me
Me,
My session was fine.
Yours?
-E
It was fine.
Looking forward
to date night.
-me
Date night. I'm performing a wedding with Carlisle tomorrow and insisted on having date night tonight, but haven't planned anything. Halloween disco dancing and spanking one weekend, and now I have nothing… and I'm thinking about this all in the House of the Lord, fantastic.
Bella,
What would you like
to do tonight?
Haven't made any plans yet.
-E
I cringe and press send.
The phone rings:
"Hi, Bella."
"Hey, Edward, how are you?"
"I'm okay. You?"
"You don't sound okay. Your session was fine? You don't use that word much."
"Yeah, I know. It was… I don't know… good? I'll tell you about it later."
"Okay, later, I'm holding you to that. Listen, don't worry about tonight. Let's play it by ear. We don't need any big plans, right?"
"Yeah, we'll play it by ear."
"You're going to be on campus all day?"
"Yes, I'm here now. I have a paper to finish and a bunch of stuff to do for the wedding."
"Edward, are you sure you're okay? How about I come over there and take you out to lunch?"
"Wish I could, but I don't have time. Just looking forward to this day being over. And for the record, I take you to lunch, not the other way around." I can't hide that I'm temperamental right now.
I hear her breathing on the other end, but she says noting for a long moment.
"Okay… give me a call when you get in tonight. Bye, Edward."
"Bye… I love you, Bella."
"Love you, too."
Well, that went over well.
~0~
At 6:27, I pull into my parking garage and text Bella. It feels much later than it really is, but at least I got some things accomplished today.
Love,
Just pulling in.
Starving. You?
Eat, drink, man, woman=
Date night.
Looking for her response again, I grab a beer from the fridge, and walk into the living room. Something comes into my peripheral view and I snap my head to look at it.
Dear God, she bought me a piano.
No.
Why did she do that?
As if the piano is crushing my chest, all of the air leaves my body. I turn a living room chair around, sit, and stare at the thing fitting perfectly at the bottom of my stairs, like the space was made for a piano. I don't have to move any closer to see it is an antique, restored, Steinway upright. If I could move, I'd look up price estimates. I know it is worth more than a new car. That fucking Escort.
I close my eyes and can smell the lemon oil, see Bella giving it one last polish.
There is a letter in Bella's fancy stationary sitting on the music desk. I'm not ready to read it.
Holy, shit. A fucking Piano? It's too much, way too much. Clearly, she has no idea how much money I have. If she did, she'd never squander her small savings on a present for me. She's worried about health insurance, but bought me a piano. I can't accept this.
I continue to drink my beer and consider how I can return it without hurting her feelings, or maybe keep it and somehow pay her back.
Why does love feel so heavy?
It sits quietly seducing me, tempting me to touch. It is so beautiful. I bet the sound is unsurpassed by anything I've ever played. I would like to keep it. My mouth begins to water. I'm salivating over a piano?
I snatch the letter and sit back in my chair, rubbing my hand over my whiskers as I prepare to read. Another wax seal, broken:
My Love,
I've been searching for this since the night you told me you played.
This is for me as much as it is for you.
Play for me, Edward.
Play this piano.
Accept my love.
-Me
PS-call when you are done freaking out.
.
Bella Swan, you know me so well.
The letter goes in the back pocket of my jeans. I sit on the bench and fold back the key cover.
"Alright, beautiful. Let's not get too attached, but I want to see how you sound."
One lay of my fingers on the keys. Sonorous. Mellow, rich perfect sound. Yes, the finest I've ever played.
I skate my fingers over the keyboard. Where to begin? Where to begin? My mind quickly sails to a vision of my mother. Für Elise, my mother's favorite.
Half way through, I feel so light that I begin to laugh. I can't even remember the last time I played, nor know why I don't play at Carlisle and Esme's house.
I've already fallen in love with this piano, an extension of me. Can I keep it?
My cell phone buzzes and I force myself to stop to look at the text:
Edward,
Heads up-Bella is
on her way over.
Be gracious or
you will crush her.
-Alice Brandon
No, I can't crush her.
Music for Bella… I can't decide.
The first melody that comes to mind is Billy Joel's, She's Got a Way. As I play, the lyrics are sung in my mind. 'She comes to me when I'm feeling down, inspires me without a sound, she touches me, I get turned around…"
The locks on the front door click open. I feel her walk towards me, sliding over on the bench giving her room, I sing aloud, "She's got a smile that heals me I don't know what it is, but I have to laugh when she reveals me…"
Bella sits next to me, and though I don't stop playing, I tip my head, touching hers. Before I finish the song, another comes to me, Etta James, At Last. I sing what I can of the song and when I don't know the lyrics, I mumble something silly that makes Bella laugh.
More songs come to me, and I play them all. Sometimes just a few bars, sometimes the whole piece, sometimes with words and sometimes not… but it all pours out of me so simply and the sound of this piano is so rich, I cannot stop. The selections are a musical recollection of my parents' love for each other.
Paul McCartney's, Maybe I'm Amazed … Van Morrison's, Have I Told You Lately…
Each time I look at her and sing, "Have I told you lately that I love you?" She responds softly, "Yes," and continues to beam at me. Her smile is like the sun… "You are my sunshine my only sunshine…"
I take note of each time she sighs or clutches her chest.
Thinking of last weekend, I play a few bars of Somewhere Over the Rainbow, she claps and laughs when I sing, "Macho, Macho, Man…"
I can't quite get the melody of Love to Love You Baby, and it's probably because there isn't one, but Roberta Flack's song is like second nature, my parents loved it so.
"The first time, I ever I saw your face…"
Bella jumps in to sing in her thin, high voice, "It had a bruise on the cheek and a cut on the lip…"
"Even-with-the-bruise-and-cut-lip," I squeeze in, "I still thought the sun rose in your eyes, and the moon and stars were the gifts you gave…"
Using my best impersonation of Joe Cocker, I give her, "You are so beautiful to me…" By the end of the song, it is my own voice.
I don't want our musical interlude to end, because I don't know what I'll say. Butterflies swarm into the light space around my heart, so I keep it going with one last song:
"It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside…
Bella makes a soft "oh" sound and wraps her arm around my waist as I sing Elton John's, Your Song. I wish I wrote it—mine to give to her.
"…I hope you don't mind that put down in words, how wonderful life is while you're in the world."
I play the last note and sit in a pause of silence. Bella takes my hands and brings each one, in turn, to her lips pressing kisses to my faint scars. It's one of those moments when I leave my body and wonder whose life I'm watching.
Bella stands and pulls my hand, I assume to lead me upstairs, but I stop her. Sitting on the edge of the bench, I rest the top of my head to her stomach and hold her hips. Her fingers go to my hair. We sit like this as I try to structure a coherent, if not eloquent, message, but I fail.
"What is it, Edward?"
Feeling small, I look up at her. "I've been trying for a long time to find the words to tell you what you mean to me… but I can't."
She tilts her head, her eyes so sympathetic. "Edward, you just spent the last hour telling me how you feel."
Though I'm glad she understands, I don't know if I'll ever believe it is enough. Now for the hard part. I laugh and shake my head, knowing this is in vain, "Bella, this gift is… really big."
"So is my love." She smiles sweetly, but then cocks her head playfully, like she's ready to argue. "Besides," she shrugs, "it's used."
"It's an antique."
"Same thing."
Feisty. I turn my attention to what she's wearing and smooth my hands down her black skirt I don't think I've seen before. It hugs her hips and legs, showing me her new, though slight, slopes and curves. I run my fingers under the hem and push up the material as I slide my hands up the black silk of her stockings.
"I wish I got you a grand… or at least a baby grand," she says, gliding her finger over the wood of the piano.
"The upright is perfect. Anything bigger wouldn't work here."
I feel lace and then the soft flesh of her thighs. I look up at her and she wears a wicked grin as I reveal her garters. I've only seen her in garters on her… wedding day.
"I like these."
"Thought you might." Bella unbuttons her blouse. She's wearing a black lace bra. "I thought tonight would end in one of two ways, so I did a little shopping- Vannina Vesperini."
"Please tell me you used the credit card."
"I used the card."
I know she did it only to make me feel better. She bought me a piano, and I bought her underwear. I rule.
I remove her blouse and skirt and gaze at Bella in her black lace and high heel glory. My glory. I have no idea who this Vannini Vesperini person is, but she's getting a thank you card in the mail from me tomorrow.
Bella sighs and says again, "I really wish I got a grand… we can't make love on an upright."
Quickly, I stand and turn her, then help her lie back across the bench. Reaching down, I hold her face and brush my thumb over her swollen bottom lip. She bites the pad of my thumb, laughing. I drag my hand down her throat, between her breasts, the center of her body, and get on my knees.
"I'm getting oral for giving you a piano?" She teases, knowing I don't need a reason.
"Mm-hmm." I remove her panties, and hook her legs over my shoulders. "I love you. I love my new piano. Thank you, Bella." It is a simple truth.
"You are welcome." She sighs and gracefully stretches her arms above her head.
My piano and my Bella—my first threesome.
I dip my head and bring my mouth to her…
~0~
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather go someplace else? Something more upscale?" I ask as we approach the door to Kell's, later that night.
"I love Kell's. We're family here… I don't know why we've never come back."
After a quick scan of the bar, I can see we are safe from the evil red head.
Bella and I share steak and crab cakes as she tells me about how she and Alice searched for the piano, as well as her shopping trip.
"Honestly, Edward, Alicia and Rachel were great. I almost went out for drinks with them, but I didn't have time. They, um, they wanted me to apologize to you again." She stifles a smile.
"Oh, so they told you about my little journey through women's lingerie?"
"Yes. And I told them they better be sweet to you the next time you come in there… but I can't really blame them, you must have been adorable looking at bras."
"Adorable?"
"Yes. Adorable. What's wrong, don't you like that word?"
"It's not very masculine."
"Awww. I'm sorry. But sometimes, you are adorable, Edward."
Bella drinks another sip of her wine, and I think back to our fist time here. I was so nervous. We've come so far.
"Edward, you promised to tell me about your session today. How was it?"
"It was… I don't know. Honestly, Bella when I think about all I have to talk about to get this guy up to date, it exhausts me. The move to Seattle, my parents, moving in with Carlisle…" My voice trails off.
"Is that why you don't talk about it with me?"
"I don't?"
She shakes her head and gives a half smile.
"We talk all the time."
"Yes, but not about your past."
Huh, this is like our first time here, maybe we haven't come that far.
"What do you want to know, I'll tell you anything."
"Wow, okay… how did you learn to play the piano?"
"I don't remember learning to play. My mom told me that I always banged on the piano as a kid, and one day, the banging sounded like the melody on the radio. I play by ear. I mean, I can read music, too. But for the most part, I can pick out what I hear."
"Really? And you never thought about being a musician?"
"Oh, no. I can't compose, and when it comes to performing, well, it's like we talked about with me being a minister, I don't like an audience."
When Molly asks if we want another round, Bella and I decide to call it a night and ask for the bill.
"Your turn for questions, Ms. Swan. How was your session today?"
"You don't really want to know, do you?"
"Yes, tell me."
Bella digs both of her hands in her hair and groans.
"That good, huh?"
"It's fine. It's starting to get really hard, though."
"How so?"
"Well, I guess I'm trying to figure out the big question, you know?" Bella frowns in concentration, searching for words. "Why did I stay with him after he turned?"
"He turned?"
"Yes, that's what Doc and I call it." For a moment, Bella smiles like she's thinking fondly, of whom I don't know. Mike? Doc? "Edward, Mike wasn't always a bad guy. When we first started dating, I was the center of his world. He and I were… best friends. And when he… turned, I stayed with him thinking that it was a phase, some rough patch that we needed to work through. Well, obviously, I stayed too long and…"
Bella stops abruptly and reaches for her wine glass, but it's empty. Silently, she stares at the wineglass while she rolls the stem between her thumb and finger.
"And," I carefully prompt her.
"And, you know the rest. I wished for his death and it came true. He didn't deserve to die." She breaks out of her quiet introspection and gives a small laugh. "Okay, enough of that. Who needs Crazy Bella on a Friday night?"
"You're not crazy. I don't want to hear you talk about yourself like that—ever. Listen, Bella, maybe you're pushing this a little too hard. I mean, why are you still going three times a week? It's a little intense, give yourself a break."
"I'd rather push forward than go back. Everything is happening so fast, I feel like I have a ton of stuff to talk about."
So fast? Us? Is she talking about us in therapy?
"Yeah, a lot to talk about… Bella, do you talk about our relationship with Doc?"
She gives me a furtive gaze. "Yes…? Is that wrong? Shit, Edward, I've never been in therapy before. I don't know."
"Of course it's not wrong, I was just asking, that's all."
It feels like lead dropped in my stomach, but I try to keep an unaffected expression. All I can think about is last weekend. Was Doc somehow behind our Halloween role play? I do NOT want to know.
Just as I'm looking for a way to end this conversation, Molly approaches the table with a round of drinks.
"Oh, thanks Molly, but I think we're done."
"I know, Edward." Her voice is low and serious. "You don't have to drink them, Victoria sent them over." Molly gestures with her head towards the bar and I see the red head sitting in her typical spot at the end, by the door.
Bella whips her head, looking over her shoulder. "Who's Victoria?"
"No one. Let's go, Bella."
Bella continues to stare at her, as Victoria gives a condescending wave. "She's a friend of yours?"
"No, not a friend. I didn't even know her name until just now. She hangs out here sometimes."
FUCK. God, please, immediate transport, for both of us—I'm begging you.
"But you talk to her." Bella sounds bemused, like even she has fallen under the red head's trance.
"I don't talk to her…"
"She talks to you," Bella turns to me and I see he complexion pale.
Victoria starts her evil laugh, and Bella turns to look at her again. "She's laughing at me."
"No. She's laughing at me, Bella."
"She comes on to you, doesn't she, Edward?"
"No," I lie vehemently, but I'm not sure why. It seems like the right thing to do. Then Bella turns back around and narrows her eyes at me. "I mean, yes, she does, did… but you have nothing to worry about. You know that, right?"
"Yes," she says unconvincingly.
"Let's go, Bella." I grab her hand and say under my breath, "Don't even look at her," as I make my way towards the door.
As we walk by, Victoria cackles, "What's wrong, didn't you like your drinks?"
Before I have a chance to react, or pull her through the door, Bella releases my hand and marches to Victoria.
"I'm sorry. We didn't mean to be rude. Thank you for the drinks, but I'm really eager to get Edward home, if you know what I mean."
Holy shit.
I lean over and grab Bella's hand, but before we can make it through the door, I hear Victoria again. "You are so cute!"
Bella yanks her hand free and strides back up, getting in Victoria's face.
"Don't let appearances fool you. If you ever touch him, talk to him, or even look at him again, I will come back here and rip your throat out." I'm shocked to watch Bella lean further in and, Lord help me, curl her lip in a snarl. Victoria cowers.
Bella turns on her heel and flies right past me, out of the bar. I go chasing after her, but as soon as I get outside, all I can manage to do is watch Bella stomp down the rain-covered street in her high heels.
"Well? Are you coming or not, Edward?" She snaps. Wow, she is mad. I can't believe I once called her 'little one.'
I run after her calling, "Bella you shouldn't have done that. She's dangerous."
She stops and turns to me. "She's dangerous? I'll tell you who's dangerous, Edward. I'm dangerous." Bella then continues her march up the street.
"I mean… she's… not like you. Women like that…" I try to explain, catching up to her.
"I'll tell you something. Edward. Women know women like that, not men. I know women like that. I'll tell you something else, you better stay away from her because I just made the fight for you a hundred times more interesting. You think she came on to you before? Watch out."
"Who are you?"
"I am Bella Swan, The Capable and Strong, beloved daughter of Charlie Swan and girlfriend of Edward Masen. That is who I am." She has definitely rehearsed that.
Again, I'm chasing after her. "Bella slow down, you're going to fall in those heels."
"I am not going to fall. I'm an adult woman who can walk in high heels."
As soon as she finishes her sentences, Bella wipes out, falling hands and knees.
"Darn, damn, fuck!"
I try to help her up, but she bats me away. "I'm okay, I just need a second." I kneel by her, but don't touch. The vision of an angry, hurt Bella sitting on the wet Seattle street shreds my heart. I just want to explain that I didn't do anything wrong. Does she know that?
I go to touch her ankle, but she shields it away from me. "It's okay."
"It's swelling."
"I'm fine." Though I don't hear anything, her phone must be ringing. Bella reaches for her purse. "It might be Alice… it is."
Bella evades my eyes as she answers.
"Hi Alice… no, I'm fine… long story… I just met Lauren Mallory the Second, and she's worse than the first." I hear Alice yelling on the other end of the line. "I'll tell you everything later… He isn't…? No, no. I'm coming home right now… Yeah, good idea... Let's do that… Oh, I think he likes it."
The piano. I mouth, 'I love it.'
Bella nods and mouths, "I know, sorry," back to me.
Bella hangs up the phone and crumples-all the adrenaline gone.
"Let me help you up."
Bella tries to hobble on one foot. I need to tell her I've haven't done anything wrong.
"I'm carrying you. You need to go to the emergency room."
"No. No hospitals, no carrying. Just… no."
She tries to continue walking on her own.
"If you won't let me carry you, at least lean on me."
Bella nods, then wraps her arm around my waist and we take a few steps in silence.
"I just need to get a cab. Help me to the cross street. I'll ice it when I get home. I'll be fine tomorrow."
"You want to go back to your place?"
"Yes. Jasper isn't home yet and Alice is having some trouble. She needs me."
We reach the corner and I can't help but to notice the swelling ankle.
"Bella, you need an x-ray."
"No, I don't. People twist their ankles every day. It's no big deal."
Bella keeps her eyes away from me. I can't read her, is she mad at me?
"Okay, we'll put ice on it."
"I think… I think I just want to go see Alice. We haven't had much time together. Is that okay?"
Oh. She is going to the apartment, but I'm not.
"Yeah, okay."
"Thanks."
When the cab pulls up, Bella finally looks up at me. "Ride with me?"
She doesn't trust me.
"Bella, I told you there's nothing going on with Victoria. I'm not going back there. I'm going straight home."
"Oh." It is such a small sound. "I didn't think you were. I just thought you'd like to take a ride together so we could say goodnight. Sorry."
I've never seen this kind of sadness in her eyes before.
Before I can say anything, Bella gets in the cab and it's driving away.
God, what do I do? Run?
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What should he do?
I would love to hear from you. Any favorite songs that Edward should sing to you?
-Liz x
PS-next post, about ten days.