Yup, Edward again... he's got a lot to say

Chapter 33

~Edward~

It had been a week or so since the eyepatch was removed, my eye still sensitive when I first woke up and when I got tired.

It had also been a week since I'd removed the patch from the hole where I kept my demons and laid them out at Bella's feet, asking her to understand.

And amazingly, like the person she was, she did. It felt like a fifty pound block of crumbling concrete had been lifted from my chest, allowing me to breathe again. My personal crater of hell had begun to be sewn up.

We'd settled back into a routine. She'd get up early and take the camera somewhere, always using my first one—she hadn't touched the digital again—while I finished the side of my multi-colored house. I had decided I wasn't going to do the whole thing in the colorful stripes, but had thought I'd do the back of the house at least, so when Bella looked out, she'd smile.

But that had grown into an odd thought over the last few days because she hadn't left my bed even one night. I could no longer picture Bella loping across the field to come see me because in my new, nightmare-free dreams and resurrected reality, she was always already there. In my kitchen, in my clawfoot bathtub, stashing things in the corner of my bedroom like she thought I didn't notice. Hell, maybe she didn't even realize she was doing it.

Mostly her books had been making their way over, but there were a few other items mixed in. A choker necklace that looked really old, a hand-carved box that could've been ivory, and a few random pieces of clothing. Her toothbrush sat next to mine in the bathroom in the built-in ceramic holder, and her hairbrush lived inside the rusted medicine chest.

I still didn't really have anything I owned, except for what was up in the attic, so having her things scattered throughout the house made me feel less alone— something I hadn't realized I'd felt the whole time I'd put my career first and moved from city to city, hotel to hotel, disaster to disaster.

Her photos were popping up here and there too. I didn't know if she hung them for me, or if she wanted to display them, but I knew that depressing house across our field wasn't the place to stage them. Like she felt that it wasn't her home anymore, much like I did. I'd smile when I'd find them because they were almost as beautiful as she was. She reminded me that pictures could be happy and have no agenda, and I found that I'd look around the house each evening, following her afternoons in the darkroom, to see if there were any more hidden pictures.

I loved watching her work in there, after I'd be done painting or fixing a few things that needed attention around the house. A railing here, a birdhouse there.

But Bella's stood there across the way, all but forgotten. I hadn't fixed another thing over there since she'd had that fit—what I could only describe as a meltdown—and I brought her back to my place, where it felt like she belonged.

Taking a break from painting the last section of trim, I drank straight out of the pitcher of lemonade she'd made me and toed my way inside her darkroom. It might've been my shed, but this was all hers. Dozens of photographs were pinned up along the walls, some still on the line drying. Extra reserves of chemicals were piled up in the corners, the latest shipment of film canisters lined up neatly on the shelf. She'd strung some of those fairy lights from her bedroom across the roofline, and she'd have them on when the red light wasn't needed.

Lemonade splashed on my bare chest when I heard a car door slam behind me. Thinking it was Sam coming to join me for a beer, which had become habit when he dropped off supplies, my two eyes popped clear out of their sockets when I saw Rose walking up the gravel drive carrying two boxes.

She looked good. Her face was bright and smiling, and her hair was freshly cut to just above her shoulders. She had makeup on, her clothes weren't hanging off her anymore, and as she approached, she walked with a bounce in her step.

She looked happy.

She lowered the boxes and embraced me enthusiastically, her arms wrapping around my neck as I instinctively gathered her into a hug. She smelled familiar, and I closed my eyes, pushing my face in her hair and thought of Emmett, about how he always buried himself in her neck and kissed her loudly, no matter where they were.

"What are you doing here?"

"What, you're not happy to see me?"

"Of course I am." And I truly was. So much had happened since our last phone call, and it was all her doing. "I'm thrilled."

"You're also very sweaty." She laughed and wiped her hands on her jeans.

"I've been working on the house." With that, she turned and shielded her eyes from the sun as it peaked over the roofline.

"I thought you were painting it?"

"I am—come on." I smiled and grabbed her hand, excited to show her what I'd done. Walking around the porch, she laughed when the side came into view.

"Well, that's different." Her hands went to her hips, and I caught a flash of her diamond ring, still in place, and felt a familiar wave of nausea roll through me.

Turning to the house, I swallowed it down. "Um, yeah. I'm not quite sure why it happened… but it happened."

"I love it."

I beamed at her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'd do the whole thing."

We stood for a bit looking at the circus tent I'd created until I led her back to the porch, both of us sitting on the creaky steps. "Why are you here? Is everything okay?"

"I can't come see how my brother-in-law is doing?"

It warmed me to know she still considered me that. "Don't get me wrong—you're always welcome, but it's a two hour drive."

She nodded towards the forgotten boxes on the driveway. "Thought those might be important."

"Probably not—anything I order comes through the post office in town. You could've shipped them."

"I am starting to think you aren't welcoming this visit." She smiled and bumped her knee against mine.

"I'm actually really glad you're here. I've missed you."

Her hand covered mine on the step. "That makes me happy. There was a time that being with me was a chore."

"Not a chore. It was torture." I shook my head and swallowed. "But you knew that."

"I knew that." Her hand slipped from mine, and her fingers rolled her rings around blindly. "The night you got drunk, trashed my apartment, and I left—you know where I went?"

Guilt filled me, remembering it clearly. After the funeral was done, I'd been a one-man pity party, drinking for days and lashing out at Rose because she was the nearest thing I had to Emmett. I took it all out on her, my anger and my pain, simply because if I treated her badly, she wouldn't have the chance to do it to me for taking the love of her life away. "I assumed your parents' house."

"I went to the quarry Emmett used to shoot fireworks at. Remember that place?"

"I do."

"It was such a dark night, no moon. The headlights from my car shined over the rocks and the deep valley. I stood on the edge and kicked pebbles down into the bottom of the basin, waiting to see how long the muted splash from the water below would take to reach me."

My blood ran icy. "Rose, you weren't—"

"No, I wasn't going to jump. I'm not going to say I didn't think about it. Instead, I screamed and yelled, puked my guts up from the sheer violence of it all. I never told you this because I knew you wouldn't be able to handle it, but part of me was glad you were such a fucking mess."

I barked a laugh. "That's real nice."

"If you were a mess, I had something to focus on besides how mad at you I was." She fell silent, her eyes gazing out over the fields. "Because I was mad at you, Edward. Not how you think." She cut me off when I opened my mouth to speak. "I wasn't mad that you'd killed Emmett, or let him die, or whatever it was you were blaming yourself for. I was mad at you because you were with him when he died, and I wasn't."

"You wouldn't have wanted to be there, Rose."

"To say goodbye to him? To kiss him one last time? I'd have been right there, in the middle of it all, for one last chance." I covered my eyes with my hand and pressed hard. "I'm so fucking thankful you were there, Edward. If it couldn't be me, you were the next best thing. Thank you for being there with him."

Tears started to run down my face, and I felt Rose scooch over and press herself into my side. Her arm came around my back and clinched at my waist; her head laid on my shoulder as mine dipped and bowed. We sat there in our thoughts, our tears, and our memories until it was me who straightened up and inhaled, catching my breath.

Our eyes locked, and we stared silently at one another, forgiving and letting go. I was filled with an elation I couldn't fathom, happy that she'd told me what was really going on in her head through that time instead of counseling me as she'd always done.

It was the last piece I needed.

"Hey, your eyepatch—" She pointed at my face, and I reached a hand up instinctively.

"Oh, yeah."

"And you're okay?"

"Feels a bit weak at times, but yeah. It's fine. It came off the night we last spoke, actually."

"I'm glad you followed my advice. As usual, I was right." She smirked.

"You're always right." I rolled my eyes. "You were right about Bella, too."

"Do tell." She rested her chin on her hand and turned her body to face me.

"I told her everything. It was hard, but you were right. She made up her own mind I wasn't a monster."

"And you two…"

I smiled. "Happy. We're both really happy. That's her house." I pointed across the field. "But she lives here." The deer suddenly came from around the shed. "That thing, too, over by the darkroom. It's her pet."

"Her pet," Rose deadpanned. "That's the deer you mentioned."

"Yeah. Thing still doesn't have a name."

"So you live with a girl and a deer. That's quite the jump in adulthood."

"It feels right somehow. I don't know."

She sighed. "Edward, the reason I'm here—I have something to tell you. I'm moving."

My ears pounded like her words had struck me with closed fists. "Moving? Where? Why?"

"I can't stay here. In that apartment. I'm going to move closer to my sister in San Francisco. Be with my nieces."

Panic closed in, but I got it. If anyone understood running away, it was me. "What am I going to do without you here?"

"Edward, you're doing fine. We'll talk all the time, and you'll visit me."

I nodded and thought about showing Bella a city like that.

"I actually should go if I want to hit Wyoming by nightfall, but don't think I missed you saying 'darkroom'!" She jumped up on her feet. "Show me!" She walked towards the shed, and I had no choice but to follow. I wondered what she'd think of it and quickly explained.

"That's Bella's. She's been using my old cameras. She's really quite good. I built this for her, you know, so she could learn how it's really done." I rambled as Rose walked around the space, looking at the photos and the equipment.

She looked closer at one of the photos of me, sitting on the edge of the creek with the deer's head in my lap. Black and white and she'd captured a hint of fogginess from the water, making it ethereal. "I like these."

"She's a natural."

"And you?" She waved her hand around.

"No, I told you—I'm done."

"You built HER a darkroom. Yeah, right."

I shrugged, the idea of it maybe held a shred of truth. "When you're ready to get back into it, call me. I'm still up for the manager position." She winked.

I shook my head but smiled back.

She grabbed me then and hugged me twice as hard as she did when she arrived. I held her close, and we said nothing, just stayed like that until she pulled away.

"Be careful driving. Check in, will you?" I meant it more than just on the road. Goodbyes to me had always been final in my life. People came and went, and I had a sick feeling in my stomach. But I reminded myself that this was Rose, Emmett's Rose, and we'd always have him to tie us together.

"You take care of yourself, Edward. And your menagerie. I'm sorry I didn't get to meet her."

"You will."

"I will." She walked to the car and put one foot inside, smiling at me for a moment before sitting. I watched her back out of the driveway and turn into the road until she was nothing but the dust she'd kicked up.

Bella was running up the driveway, disrupting that cloud and making her own. I smiled, thinking she was anxious to show me what she'd done today. When she plowed into me, clinging for dear life, and began kissing me, her grasp was frantic, not loving, not eager. She was demanding, clawing at my belt buckle, and it felt all off. I pulled away, grabbed her hands and looked at her face.

There wasn't passion there.

"Bella, what's going on?"

It was sheer terror.

"What happened?"

Mad love to LayAtHomeMom, Hadley Hemingway, and CarrieZM for making us pretty.

Enjoy, and leave us your thoughts!

HB&PB