I snatch up my breakfast remnants, walk over to the sink and toss them in roughly. Then, I decide that it's not enough.
Smash. My glass hits the floor, sending shards everywhere as I watch.
"Are you fucking serious right now?"
Smash. My plate.
"Everything we went through, and that's why?"
Smash. A coffee cup I've pulled from the shelf to my left.
"Bella, please calm down, you're going to -"
Smash, smash, smash. Three more cups meet their untimely end.
The loud clatter of a handful of cutlery follows quickly after.
"No! I will not calm down!"
I've never been a violent person before, but the sound of dinnerware hitting the tiles of our kitchen is making me feel just a tiny bit better.
My father walks around the kitchen island and grabs my hands, holding them down to my sides.
"Bella, stop."
"No... Let go of me! Don't touch me!"
I struggle against him, trying to smash my clenched fists into his chest, to force him away from me so I can break everything in sight.
"Bella... Bella, stop this."
His voice is low, a complete counterpoint to my hysteria, but somehow, manages to break right through it. My screams turn to sobs as I wilt in his arms. He quickly removes his hands from my wrists and wraps them around my shoulders, preventing me from falling to the floor.
"How can it all be because of that?" I whimper, broken and overwhelmed and hurting so badly that I can barely stand it.
"I know, baby girl," he coos, stroking my hair with one hand as the other holds me to him. "I'm so sorry, you'll never know how sorry I am."
"It's not... how could they do that to us?"
I'm pleading with my father, desperate for answers that I know he cannot give.
"I'm sorry, Bella," he tried again.
"It's not good enough! That reason... it's not enough! Not for all of this!"
"I know it's not, sweetheart. I know."
I shove away from him.
"No, you don't know!"
Glaring at him, I take a couple of steps backwards, directly into the mess of shattered china.
"Ow!"
"Oh, Bella," he says, lifting me out of the mess by my underarms as though I'm a toddler. He places me on the chair and I drop my head to my knees, sobbing at both the physical and mental pain wracking through my body, making even breathing feel as though it's an impossibility.
"Wait here," he instructs evenly, using his lawyer voice. "I'm going to call Carlisle to come have a look at your feet, then Dr Reynolds."
I just nod, not bothering to lift my head as I try to fight back more irrational acts of destruction.
I can hear my father's lowered voice as he speaks with Carlisle, then Garrett, who will apparently come over once Carlisle is done fixing up my feet. They sting painfully, but the tears streaming down my face are only fractionally caused by the pain.
When I hear the front door open and multiple footfalls, I force myself to sit up and hastily wipe the tears from my face. I don't need anyone else seeing me at my psychotic best... even though Carlisle's probably seen me in a worse state more than once.
What I don't expect when the door swings open is that Edward enters before his father, his eyes fixed on me.
"Holy fuck, Bella," he says, "what did you do?"
His voice holds none of the anger or irritation I would have imagined it would, and for that, I'm grateful, if not shocked beyond words.
He crosses the room as my tears start up again, a combination of embarrassment at my situation, confusion at his presence, and overwhelming relief that he's here. He gently, so gently, lifts me and seats me on the kitchen island, pulling himself up beside me as Carlisle kneels on the floor before me and opens his doctor bag. Edward wraps his arm around my shaking shoulders and I lean into him, resting my face on his body as I continue to cry.
"Does it hurt? Do you need anything?" he frets, his voice quiet in my ear. I just softly shake my head, because his being here, even though he's so angry with me, is more than enough.
"What are you doing here?" I blubber.
"My dad said you were hurt, so of course I hauled ass over here with him. He drove like a fucking grandma, I might add." I look down at Carlisle to see him scowling playfully up at his son, and can't help but smile a tiny bit through my tears. Carlisle meets my eyes and his glare softens, a small smile replacing it.
"Bella, sweetie, I'm going to pick out the pieces of... plate, I suspect, and then I'll clean you up. You'll be good as new in no time."
I just nod again and close my eyes, settling into the feel of Edward's body heat and his smell, so familiar and cathartic to me.
"Are you going to tell me what this is about?" Edward murmurs, his near-silent voice reminding me of many hushed conversations back in the room. Carlisle works diligently, obviously avoiding listening to our whispered dialogue.
"I found out why."
He doesn't need more explanation than that, and he sighs heavily.
"Shit, Bella. I know I was a royal douche to you last night, but I didn't want you to do this if you weren't ready."
"Everything you said was true, though."
"Yeah, and my mom ripped me a new asshole when she got home for 'acting like a wild animal in front of that lovely girl'." He switches to a southern accent when he quotes her, and it doesn't suit him at all. "We got properly talking after she smacked me upside the head and I realised that I really did handle things like a total jackass."
I laugh, just a little bit, at the idea of tiny little Esme sneaking up behind her much larger son and smacking him over the ear, then sigh.
"No, you were right. I needed to stop avoiding it. I just wasn't prepared for how I'd deal with it."
"Apparently, it pissed you off," he surmises.
I look up then, eyes firey as some of my previous indignation resurfaces.
"Of course I'm pissed off. Weren't you?"
He smiles a little.
"Asbo-fucking-lutely, I was pissed off. We went through all of that... for what?"
"Nothing."
"Exactly."
He just holds me while Carlisle finishes stitching me up, tightening his grip as I wince at the sting of the antiseptic. I relish his support, even if it is over something as trivial as a cut on my foot. That he's here at all means the world to me.
Once Carlisle's finished, he stands and pulls off his gloves, putting all the waste in a small plastic bag.
"Alright, I'm done here. Keep off that foot for a little while, it's going to be sore."
"Thanks, Carlisle," I say fervently.
"No need to thank me, I'm just doing my job, sweetheart. Edward, I'm going to go have a chat with Charlie, let me know when you're ready to leave."
Edward nods to his father, who then leaves the room. Edward jumps off the counter, placing himself between my legs so that we're face to face. I use my feet to pull him close and rest my head against his shoulder. He drops his face to mine and we stay like that until he speaks.
"How's your foot?"
"It's ok," I say, a little embarrassed at my childish tantrum now that the angry haze has ascended.
"I really am sorry about yesterday, Bella."
"I know... I'm sorry too."
"Are you doing ok, with everything?"
"Yeah," I sigh. "I just feel so... short-changed. Some asshole that we don't even know, punishing us because of... of fucking nothing? It just makes me so angry."
"That's exactly how I felt... still feel. We're entitled to be pissed off, at least I think we are. But pissed off is better than scared, right?"
I think about that for a moment.
"Yeah, I guess it is."
He lifts his head, and I lift mine, our eyes meeting. Neither of our faces holds any particular expression, we're just taking one another in, gauging the truth of each other's words. After a few seconds, he smiles at me.
"I'm proud of you," he says, and I laugh dryly.
"Why, because I threw a temper tantrum almost level with something you'd do?"
He laughs.
"Well, in part, yes. But I'm mostly proud because you're handling all of this like a fucking champ."
I'm not sure why this embarrasses me, but it does.
"Oh... well, thanks."
He laughs again.
"You're welcome."
I place my hand on his neck and pull his face to mine, pressing our lips together. He responds instantly, but there's no lust behind this kiss - no fire. It's reaffirming, cleansing and innocent and everything lovely between us that is so real, and growing stronger all the time.
I can't help but smile, and he quickly pecks my upturned lips before pulling away, just a little, so our foreheads are still touching.
"Bella, I -"
"Bella?" I hear my dad's voice as he enters the room. Edward takes a quick step back to put us in a more socially acceptable position.
"Yeah, dad?"
"Garrett will be over shortly."
My dad quickly leaves the room, obviously feeling awkward having seen our intimacy.
Edward takes another step back. I look at him questioningly, but his face appears completely serene at the mention of my therapist.
"Well, that's my cue to get out of here, I guess," he says with a wry laugh. I look down, saddened by this news, but he takes both of my hands in his, squeezing gently.
"Hey, don't be like that. I'll you soon, tonight if you want to. Just..." he chuckles, "just give me a call."
I giggle at a little as well, the idea of Edward being a phonecall away still seeming a little odd.
"Will do."
Still smiling, he leans in and gives me one last, lingering kiss and then a peck to my forehead, then leaves to meet his father. I wait, sitting on the bench, until I hear the front door close signifying his exit, and then slowly slide myself down off the bench. Before I can go searching for a broom, Charlie re-enters the room with it in his hands. I reach out for it, and he mimes smacking my hands away.
"Not happening, missy. You take a seat at the table, Garrett will be here shortly and you guys can talk in here."
I sigh dramatically but follow his orders and hobble over to the table. I watch uncomfortably as he cleans up the mess from my outburst quickly and diligently, in true Charlie fashion, without saying a word. The doorbell rings and he brushes his hands on his expensive suit pants and goes to answer it.
Garrett walks into the kitchen alone.
"Well, hello Bella," he says casually. "I hear we've had quite an interesting morning."
I can't help but laugh a little at his playful smirk when he sits down at the other head of the six-seater table.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that," I concur.
"Want to run me through it?"
"You say that like I have a choice."
He laughs, but says nothing, leaving it to me to tell my story.
AN: OMG I stiffed you again... I double promise you'll find out why they were taken next time.
Also, do any of you write fics? I'm always on the lookout for something awesome to read (and rec to you guys) so if you write something phenomenal (which I assume you do, because all my readers are supertalented... and superattractive) let me know and I'll give it a looksee and compile a list of the most awesome of the awesome next time I post!
Love you all... please don't track me down and knife me.