Hey Y'all, I know I'm posting this pretty fast, but I wanted to get a head start, especially with RL catching up with me, a lot of work had to be done on a piece that I'm getting published, so yeah, life's been tough.
Anyways, no copywright infringement intended, all the lovely characters still belong to SM, I just play around occasionally.
And as ever, humongous hugs to my beta, for being such a star and her wonderful work on this.
Chapter Three
I phoned Angela the next morning. There was no sign of Edward yet, so either he wasn't up yet, or he had already gone to the practice for the morning. I prayed it was the latter, otherwise it meant that he was still here. She answered on the third ring, seeming so relieved to hear from me. She kept asking after my head, how Edward took it and if I was okay. I explained that he was upset, understandably. It wasn't everyday that your wife came home with a cut above her eye, covered it blood with her dress soaked from god knows what. Angela breathed a laugh and I said my goodbyes.
The second I put the phone down and turned to walk into the kitchen, Edward was standing right before me. I looked at his face, but there was nothing there. He'd always had an excellent poker face; he never gave anything away.
"Who were you talking to?" he asked.
"Angela. I phoned her to thank her for last night, bringing me home and all. She asked how I was and how you'd taken me coming home like that. I said I was fine and that you were upset. Though I'm guessing you heard it anyway," I sighed.
"Not upset, Bella, fucking pissed is a more apt description. I'm still really angry about it all, and now, you accuse me of eavesdropping on your conversation."
"Come on, Edward, you and I both know you've never before asked me who I was on the phone to. You were eavesdropping because you were worried I'd tell Angela what really happened last night," I seethed.
Bad choice of words—his eyes tightened as he glared at me. I never did know when to shut my mouth. My ribs ached suddenly from the memory of last night. I didn't think they could take another round. I bowed my head and murmured an apology. I heard footsteps as he retreated, but not before he came back grabbed me by my hair and yanked me to his face.
"I'm warning you, Isabella, if you carry on, you won't like where this road will go. I promise you that."
I crumpled to the floor as he released me and once more left the room. So there I was a few minutes later after he'd stormed out of the house, my wedding photos in front of me, wondering where the hell it had all gone wrong. All the times that I'd been stopped from going out, they all suddenly fitted into place. He was jealous and possessive. I'd been too naive and stupid to see the signs. Too in love to see what was right before my eyes—a future filled with nightmares.
Another thought occurred to me—his parents. They'd come to the wedding. I was looking at them in one of the group photos. But they'd never contacted us in any way. Well, I received birthday and Christmas cards from them, always with money in, which was thoughtful, but never a call, or a text, or even an email. Nothing. It was like they only cared when it came to a memorable occasion. The rest of the year we were no one, or was it me? Was I no one to them? No! Of course, I wasn't. They'd been so pleased at the wedding, almost sad. I'd put it down to their eldest boy growing up and getting married. Your first born is always the most special, though no parent would ever admit it. I'd tried to call them so many times in the past, to thank them for the money they always sent. Edward would always find a reason not to though. A meal he'd planned, yet there was never a reservation. A trip to the cinema, except he never knew what was on at the time. There was always something planned, yet they always appeared to be spur of the moment things—deterrents. Another thing I had been blind to.
Why wouldn't he want me seeing or talking to them? Surely they weren't cult members who ran around sacrificing goats and babies? I shrieked as a hand clamped down on my shoulder. I looked up in dismay to see that Edward had returned. Worse still, I'd been crying. Fear raced through me as I prepared for the onslaught that I knew what about to happen.
"Why are you looking at our wedding photos and crying, Bella?" he asked softly.
"Because it was such a beautiful day, we were so happy that day. Then I got to thinking, it's so sad that your parents don't visit or call," I sighed, maybe I'd get away with it.
"I've told you before, Bella, my family are extremely fickle. Just because they looked happy for us doesn't mean that they were. They'd had high hopes for me to marry a woman in the same business as myself, they were disappointed that I had chosen you. You had no job, you came from no money, but I loved you and they hated it. I knew you'd make a brilliant wife. They wouldn't hear of it, though. So they chose not to contact us."
"Be that as it may, Edward, but I was employed when we got married. You were so distraught at the thought of my walking home late and working in a hardware store that I agreed to stop working there. When we discussed me looking for another job, you were happy to have me as a stay at home wife," I retorted.
"Don't be so ridiculous, Bella. I'd never ask you to quit a job you enjoyed. You wanted to leave it all behind and when you said it'd be nice to do some stuff at home, I agreed. My salary was and is more than enough to keep us comfortable."
"it doesn't alter the fact that you wanted me to leave, Edward. It wasn't an issue then, so it isn't now."
I never saw the hand that flew at my face, not until it struck me square on the cheek. I staggered back clutching my stinging cheek in horror. I didn't know what had become of my husband. I seriously disliked the one I had now.
"I don't know why you are telling these lies, Bella, but if I find out that you have told others, you'll be in a place you don't want to be. I didn't ask you to quit your job, you chose that path on your own. Got it?"
Without waiting for an answer, he left the room. It was as I heard the door slam shut that he shouted back. "This house better be spotless by the time I return. You have photos all over the place."
I dared to breathe only after I heard the engine of the car start and fade. I moved a few moments later, once confirming that he wouldn't be returning. I sighed, began my clear up in the living room and thought about everything that had happened since the reunion. It was if overnight Edward had become someone else. Sure he'd always had a controlling side, I guess. He'd never hit me, though.
As I went from room to room tidying, I glanced at the mirror on my dresser. My lip had split, the blood drying on my chin in a crimson stain. I sighed once more and went to the bathroom to clean it off, mentally reminding myself to put a wash on so that he couldn't complain about the blood stain on the face towel.
Done, I resumed my room to room cleaning. The more I went on, the more the thought that something wasn't right niggled me. I still couldn't understand why the Cullens didn't want anything to do with me. Why come to the wedding if they thought so little of me? Surely it wouldn't matter if I came from money or not. Money was material and if they were so bothered, then maybe they should have checked my background. My stepfather, Phil, had given me a sizeable amount of money, mostly to keep quiet about his gambling habit, but hey, he had the money to burn. I didn't know about the money until the bank had called saying that someone had just deposited one-hundred million dollars into my account. I'd had to go to the bank to clarify who it had come from and that the person was not using my account as a means to hide dishonest money. The second I'd mentioned who my stepfather was it was fine and they were practically bowing to me as I left.
It still irked me that his parents could be so callous. Besides, they had come from little money and built there way up. Carlisle, his father, was a highly sought after surgeon, who only stayed in Seattle because he enjoyed the hospital that he worked at. Esme, his mother, had her own interior design business and often did the work for many celebrities. His two sisters, Rosalie and Alice, were models for a magazine. Finally, there was Jasper, his brother, had made detective within Seattle's police department in a matter of weeks. The whole family was made of goal achievers, yet none from money, especially considering that Jasper was adopted. I remembered that their number was in the address book. I resolved to call them as soon as I had finished my clean. If one thing was for certain, I would get my answers from them.
