Chapter 7
Edward refused to look at me for the rest of the day. It wasn't that he was ignoring me, he spent every minute with me; whether to comfort me or watch me, I wasn't sure. But he never quite looked me in the eyes. When I spoke to him, his eyes would travel from my forehead to my chin, to my nose, to my cheeks. Around and around his eyes rolled, but they never quite met my eyes. To be honest, this sort of pissed me off. I mean, if he didn't want to be near me, then why didn't he just leave, and save me the heartache? Did he refuse to leave because he felt responsible for my condition? Was he going to leave again once I was better? Maybe I should stop trying to get better, just so that he stayed. The questions floating around in my head were the worst part about Edward leaving. Our relationship used to be so clear to me; everything was black and white. My life was completely guided by my love for Edward, and his love for me. But he muddled everything when he left. I constantly doubted myself, doubted my relationship, and doubted his intentions. I was stuck in this in-between place, where I sort of believed his proclamations of undying love for me, and sort of felt like it was all a load of crap.
For dinner, Esme made chicken and rice. It used to be one of my favorite meals— its simple flavors always comforted me. But I was in no mood to go anywhere near that food today.
When Esme told me that dinner was ready, I skipped going to the kitchen and headed straight for the living room, plopping myself on the couch and turning on the T.V.
"Would you like to eat dinner in the living room, Bella?" Esme asked.
"Nope." I replied, my voice oozing disgust.
"Well then, you'd better head into the kitchen before your food gets cold." Esme said, trying to politely get me to eat.
I pretended that I couldn't hear her.
Finally Edward cut in. "Bella, go into the kitchen and try to eat something." His voice was controlled but assertive. I could tell that he had no patience for my behavior.
I pretended that I couldn't hear him either.
Cold arms scooped me off the couch and set me at the kitchen counter within a second. I grunted unhappily.
"Fuck off, Edward." I said, extremely angry at him. I had never sworn at him before, and I regretted it immediately. His face fell, his eyes holding that ancient sadness in them.
He didn't respond, just placed a fork in my hand and waited for me to eat. I made no intention of eating, and Edward quickly took note of this. "Bella. Eat." He commanded, his face just inches from mine. I held perfectly still, keeping my face completely expressionless. I refused to acknowledge him when bossed me around like this.
Suddenly, the kitchen exploded. "BELLA," Edward roared, "EAT THE DAMN FOOD." I flinched away from him. "Just put the food into your mouth and swallow it. I don't care that you don't want to eat it. Just swallow the food. It's not hard."
I shot out of my seat. "Shut up, Edward. Just shut the fuck up. Can't you see how PAINFUL this is for me? If it was as simple as just putting food in my mouth and swallowing, then I wouldn't be having this problem. It HURTS to eat. It makes me sick. I'm sorry that I can't please you 24/7, Edward. I'm sorry that I'm such a fuckup. Why don't you just LEAVE again, if I'm such a pain in the ass? That's what you always do, isn't it? You leave and put all the problems on me." I was crying. Angry, frustrated, confused tears flowed down my cheeks in hot streams.
Edward looked disoriented, as If he just woke up on a foreign planet. His jaw was hinged open, his tongue dripping dumbly out the side of his mouth. For the first time in hours, he looked me directly in the eye.
"Is that what you think?" He asked, his voice much quieter.
I nodded.
I half expected him to sweep me into his arms, to brush away my tears, to tell me that he was sorry and that he loved me. But he did none of those things. He simply disappeared, the front door swinging closed behind him. I crumpled to the floor. His departure was like a semi-truck hitting me at 100 miles an hour. I felt my body disintegrate on impact.