Usual disclaimer applies.
March, 2012
~70~
I tell Dad.
About inadvertently confronting Esme.
About her little freak out.
The ice wrapped in a cloth that Edward gave me is still tucked away in my hand, and I know my cheek must be bright red considering the numbing cold sensation I feel.
Edward also said a handprint was visible.
And I can tell that Dad is beginning to lose it; that his mask for dealing with police matter, which I guess he would consider this to be, is starting to slip. His eyes have hardened; they aren't the brown pools of warmth that I'm used to. He sits rigidly in his chair, absorbing all that I'm telling him, trying to figure out what to do.
What can we do?
Everyone in this town loves the Cullen's. It is Carlisle's company that brought people here, that made Forks prosper. The Cullen's are the reason the east enders have money; the reason this town has money. And I know my Dad. He is not going to just charge Esme with something that will amount to a fine and that's that. He will want a trial. He will rack up the charges so that she ends up with jail time.
This entire thing is about to go public, and I can't help but think that it's the Swan's that this town is going to sharpen their pitchforks for, not Esme and Carlisle.
After Dad takes a couple pictures of my cheek and lip, I go to bed. I'm too weary to deal with much else; too apprehensive for what tomorrow might bring.
~SW~
Today when Edward passes me in the hallway, he doesn't just look the other way, he doesn't simply use the fact that I'm a foot shorter than him to look over my head and pass by like every other day.
Today Edward smiles at me. His eyes are concerned, wondering how I am. He eyes my cheek, which looks much better today and is lightly covered in foundation anyway. He is about to speak.
But with a quick glance, I look the other way, stifling the eye contact, piercing the connection. I just…can't go there. Not yet. Not when, after everything with Esme comes to light, Edward is bound to hate me. I know he said yesterday he would support me, but call me a skeptic because I'm doubtful.
I also can't help but feel resentful. I know Edward was hurting over the whole Bella-is-my-sister thing, but he still could have at least been decent to me this past year. He could have stood up for me. Why does he suddenly care? How can he go from ice cold to warm in the span of a day?
It's confusing. It's hurtful.
~SW~
Dad isn't home by the time supper is on the table.
I eat alone.
And I know why he is putting in the extra hours. He is doing everything he can to ensure Esme doesn't get off. He is researching all the legalities that will support his case.
I wonder if he is going to look for Mom, too.
Because if he needs to turn his harassment charge into a criminal offense, having Renee as a victim would be extremely helpful. She was the one, after all, who was terrified enough by Esme's threat to leave town, to desert her family. And even though I doubt Dad ever wants to see her again, I know he will shelve his pride and seek her out, if it helps his case.
I dish a plate for Dad and leave it in the fridge. I wipe the counters and table, and just as I finish washing the day's dishes, I hear the front door open. Dad finds me in the kitchen and the weariness, the exhaustion, is evidence in his features.
"Hey, Dad." I give him a sympathetic smile. "I made your favourite today."
He sighs, and a smile graces his fatigued face. "Bella, you're the best."
A/N: Sorry for this delay. I have no excuse, except being addicted to Pintrest lol.