Usual disclaimer applies.
March, 2012
~51~
I make my way to Edward Cullen's front door, conscious of the fact that his Evo sits in the driveway, and I know both of his parents are at work. It makes me feel a little bit better, realizing that our conversation will be in complete privacy.
When Edward opens the door a few short minutes after I knock, I wonder what my body language is telling him. I am standing as far away from the door as the small concrete landing will allow me, my arms are crossed tightly over my chest, and my angry eyes are moist with tears.
Shit.
I hate feeling vulnerable.
"Bella? What—"
I don't let him finish. I need to get this out.
"So Jessica said you and I were in bed together the night of her party last year. Care to elaborate?" I try to spit out the words, to show him every bit of anger that I am feeling. I just need to know…
Yeah, Edward was drugged that night too. But if he remembers, if he remembers and never discussed it with me…
He knew I was a virgin. He knew I was in love with him and that he broke my heart.
Two months before.
Isn't the fact that you sleep together at some party a reason to say something, to perhaps apologize?
And I can't even contemplate if the act was more sinister than sex, if I was passed out during it…
I cringe.
So instead of actually sounding angry, my voice is quiet and a tremor runs through my words. At least I manage to keep eye contact with him.
"What?" Edward lets out a disbelieving grunt, his eyebrows shooting up. He takes a step away from the door and closer to me. "What are you talking…"
I stop his movement and his words by putting my hand out, fingers extended, palm facing his chest. "I want to know what happened." Finally my voice contains some strength, some potency.
"Do you know how wasted I was at that party? I barely even remember it; the whole night is a blur." And his hand is out, moving with his words just like I remember it doing whenever he was speaking passionately.
He's making excuses.
A sob escapes my throat without my permission, but I know I need to push through. "Jessica said she walked by the guest bedroom and you," I shake my head, still in disbelief. "You were taking off my underwear!"
His eyes widen, but then look heavenward, probably seeking guidance to address the crazy girl on his front steps.
I'm suddenly hysterical. "You were the one who raped me!"
This causes him to look back at me.
And he's angry.
"I raped you?"
I reply by letting out another sob, tears leaking down my cheeks. I turn my face away, no longer able to look at him. Taking a few steps back, I stumble over the cement landing. Edward catches my arm, preventing my fall.
I wrench it out of his grasp.
"What are you doing? Why are you acting like this? Why are you acting like you weren't there?" His words have taken on a remarkably high pitch, each one sounding more and more alarmed.
"What?" The word is a gasp, torn from my chest.
"You were there too you know! I thought we had some unspoken rule, like we're never going to talk about it, but now I raped you!" His hands pull at his hair, his face scrunching up tight. He brings one hand down and slams it, in a fist, against his thigh.
I flinch.
After several moments, and countless deep breaths later, I can tell Edward is somewhat calmer. I remain quietly crying and sniffling, standing on his sidewalk a few feet away.
When he speaks again, his words are much softer, gentler.
"I need to tell you what happened?"
I nod.