Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all.
Rated M for several reasons.
Chapter 37
BPOV
What?
"What?" Oh brilliant Bella, thousands of dollar's worth of media courses and the best you can come up with, is what.
But, what?
A part of me, the part that's mad at him for being mad at me, would very much like to know who the fuck he thinks he is asking me a question like that. Mister 'I don't know if I can love a woman but I'd like to try it out on you'.
Another part of me, the wretched well balanced sensible part, is perfectly well aware of why he's mad at me, possibly even understands it and might be able to guess where he's going with this.
And yet another part is horrified by that guess. Am I supposed to be able to explain this love stuff to him? Who died and made me the expert? I've no real experience with it and I sure as shit don't understand it.
Edward leans forward to grab his coffee, hiding his impassive face briefly in the steam.
Alright. I started this conversation, I'd better pull the big girl panties up over the boobs . . . .
"You think I don't love you because I didn't tell you about Trevisano?"
He nods, tightly, his face emerging from the vapour cloud.
"You don't think that maybe I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want anyone to worry unnecessarily? Demetri, Steve, the NYPD, they were, are, on top of it."
His cheek twitches but he doesn't speak.
My voice drops to a whisper.
"You don't think that maybe I didn't tell you because I was scared that you might not." Swallow. "Give a shit?"
His eyes are hard, very hard. Can you have flinty emeralds? I think you can.
"Crap!" He snorts after a moment. "You know I would have. You know me."
Yes I do. And yes you would have. How to explain?
"I told Rose about Trevisano while you were in the shower. She's mad at me. Em's gonna be mad at me. Char's gonna rip me a new one and your Mom is probably gonna hold me down while she does.
I . . . . I understand that, now, I think. Because I'd feel the same way if it was them. I love them.
But . . . ."
I drag my eyes up from my twisting hands and take a deep breath.
". . . . I want more than that from you."
There I said it. Okay. I didn't actually say it but he's an intelligent man, he can extrapolate the rest from there.
"You want me to don a suit of armour and ride a white horse into New York brandishing a sword?" He asks. "Is that how I prove to you that I love you?"
"Edward." I practically snarl. "This is not a time to be funny."
"I'm sorry. It was serious question badly phrased." He sighs.
I sigh too because I'm not sure how to tell him what he wants to know. How would he prove to me that he loves me? If he does . . . .
"I'm sorry." He apologies again. "I know that telling you I love you isn't going to make everything sweetness and light between us. You've no reason to trust those words from me. I'm going to have to prove it. And I want to prove it. But, this Trevisano thing and your general desire to keep your problems to yourself? These are things that make me feel that no matter how long or hard I try I'll never get the chance, that you'll never let me have the chance."
Oh. Is he right? Is this my last stand to cling to my belief that he can't love me? To not really give him a chance to convince me otherwise? Disappointment dodging for the win . . . .
"It's not deliberate. I never want to be a burden to anyone. Ever."
"You can't be a burden to me Bella that's what, in my incredibly inept way, I'm trying to explain. I love my family, god help me I even love Rose, and I would do anything for them if they asked. But that pales into insignificance beside what I want to do for you. I've always admired your strength and your innate ability to put everyone else's needs before your own. And I love you for it. I know I do. I want to be the one that shores you up. I want to be the one that gives you what you need and puts you before anyone and anything else. I want to be what you deserve."
Uh-oh. Water works alert.
"Bella . . . ." He groans, starting to heave himself out off the couch. "Don't . . . . oomph . . . . damn . . . . I didn't mean to upset you."
"Stay." I command, flapping my free hand at him while the other scrubs ineffectually at my cheeks. "I'll come to you."
After a bit of squirming on both sides he finally has me where he wants me, wrapped in his arms and tucked under his chin. I don't know what I need or what I deserve but I could happily add this to a list if he wants one.
"Why are you crying?" He asks softly.
"I don't know."
"That's not very helpful." He observes wryly.
"I know. I don't know what's wrong with me."
"You're an intelligent woman, I'm sure you can hazard a guess."
"We haven't worked out what's wrong with you yet." I hedge.
"Yes we have." He says sagely. "I'm insecure and new to this love business. It freaked me out that I didn't know about Trevisano and couldn't do anything to protect you from him. And it freaked me out that you didn't trust me, us, enough to tell me so that I could at least support you. "
I want to ask him if he really does love me but I don't because I realise he's right. The words aren't going to make an impact on me, he's going to have to prove it. Which means I do too.
Which is a shame because for some reason I'm terrified that the big girl panties will shred if I try an' pull 'em up any higher. Does everyone else have this problem, or is it just us, me? And is it worth it?
Edward hums deep in his chest and snuggles me tighter.
Damn him.
"I can hear the gears in your brain grinding." He observes.
"Rude."
"Are you annoyed again?"
"Yes. It annoys the ever loving shit out of me that you, you, find talking about this stuff so easy and I'm finding it almost impossible."
"I don't find it easy, I just find it easier than the alternative."
"The alternative?"
"I hope that you'd never cut me out of your life completely, but in all honesty I'm not sure that you wouldn't. For a long time I was worried about what that would mean for me. But recently I've been more concerned about what that would mean for you. My family are your family too. You need them as much as they need you."
Silence.
"Are you crying again?"
"Maybe? But could you please stop pointing it out?"
"Okay."
"Okay."
Silence.
Okay.
"I don't know if I could explain it." I murmur eventually.
"Explain what?"
"Why I love you."
"Ah."
"Ah." I agree.
"I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing." He admits.
"Neither do I but many women's magazines would insist that we both be able to do so and would consider it healthy."
"Are these the same sort of magazines that Rose reads? Because I'm not sure any publication that thinks your human rights are being abjured if you're not getting ten orgasms a day is qualified to make a judgement on a healthy relationship."
I can't help but laugh.
"What's funny?"
"I was thinking earlier that I should make a list of things I love you for, maybe I could add ten orgasms a day to it?"
"I'd be willing to give it a try, what else is on there?"
"Cuddles, you give good cuddle."
"You're the only woman other than my Mom I've ever 'cuddled' and I'd rather you didn't spread that round, its not manly to be cuddly."
"You make me laugh, that's got to be on the list."
"Absolutely, I would have that on mine for you."
"Is it acceptable to put your good looks and manly physique on the list?"
"Of course, and that would be on mine, minus the manly part."
"I love that your intelligence makes you the tiniest bit geeky and real world stupid."
"Nice. I love how sharp you are and the way it makes interviewers and such look dull witted by comparison."
"Don't tell Aro that, he's been trying to get me to tone that down for years. I'd have to put your jealous caveman on the list, it always made me feel secretly special."
"I do not get jealous."
"Yeah, you do."
"For the record Laurent, as much as I like him, is a sleaze ball when it comes to women. And as for those guys in college, you needed a man, not a horny puppy dog. I was just looking out for your wider interests."
"I used to love how serious and intent you could get about things. Your football, your studies, your career. I envied that."
"You were always serious about literature, we used to call you the Library Ghost for a reason."
"I was not always in the library."
"Yes you were, always. We had to have your birthday party in there once as I recall."
"I was revising until you lot came blundering in and got me thrown out."
"You passed, you were just overdoing it as usual."
"Can I have a why I don't love you list?"
"If you must." He allows.
"You're argumentative."
"And you're stubborn but I'm putting that on my plus side because I love that about you."
"You're suave."
"Ouch." He drawls. "Are we sticking with the negatives now?"
"Not strictly. One of the things that made it difficult to be offended by your womanising ways was how nice you were about it. I never once saw you be deliberately mean to anyone, even a girl you rejected used to float away on a little cloud of bliss afterwards. It was when they woke up the next morning some of them used to turn nutso and start stalking Rose and me."
"I'm sorry, I never realised."
"Its okay, we had our three step Suaveward program down pat with an almost 100% success rate."
"Dare I ask?"
"They didn't actually know you so it was fairly easy to convince them that despite evidence to the contrary you were the biggest asshole in Christendom. Rose was particularly good at it."
"That answers a few lingering questions I've had about college." He drawls.
"I'm sorry Edward we discovered that it was better to be cruel to be kind, getting over a nice guy turned out be hard for some of them."
"I never promised them anything."
"We knew that, but some girls will still see a turd and think they can turn it into a My Little Pony with glitter and spray paint."
"You have a wonderfully visual way with words." He laughs, jostling me. "That's going on my list even if you are often using them to my detriment."
Silence.
"I have another one." I whisper. "I love the way you know how to get me comfortable enough to talk and that you care enough to put that effort in."
"I'm not sure I'm doing it consciously." He admits, squeezing me so hard my ribs creak in protest.
"Then I should love it even more."
"Bella . . . ." He breathes, gently tilting my head back so that he can see into my eyes.
"I have one more." I manage to tell his blazing green eyes.
"You do." He queries as his lips descend to mine.
"I do."
Deep breath Bella, deep breath.
"I love how you . . . ."
"Hello!" Moira booms from the bottom of the stairs. "You two love birds ready for a home cooked dinner?"
Oh for the love of . . . .
A/N Sorry this has taken so long. Hopefully, if you are still here, you won't have to wait so long again!