AN: I don't know if this would be the way things happen these days, but I'm writing from experience with my former roommate. His career was cut short and A LOT of things happened personally. Don't come for me with rules and regulations. Just don't.
The summer has been pretty amazing, if I'm honest. Edward and I have spent a lot of time together, navigating this new solid relationship. Something about us being so comfortable with each other that we don't question anything anymore … It almost makes us forget about what happened in the past.
Except we can't forget; little reminders pop up constantly, and we deal with them accordingly. I think it's more a testament to how far Edward has come as a person than anything that's getting thrown at us. We've been able to talk everything out, and since communication was never our strong suit, it's nice to know we're doing something right now.
The first and what I thought would be the biggest problem was Makenna coming back into the picture. Our chance encounter with her at the beach so many weeks ago had put Edward back in the forefront of her mind. She'd been calling and texting him like crazy. She'd even gone so far as to be in some civilian parking lots down by base, waiting for Edward to leave so she could follow him.
I'd be embarrassed for her if I wasn't worried for Edward and his safety … and my own. More often than not, we'd seen her car cruise up and down Edward's street. It wasn't until I'd had enough and called the police to report her when she got stopped for making an illegal U-turn. When Edward came out to speak with her and the cops, Makenna got huffy but hasn't shown her face again.
Edward's been on a few weeks-long underways, so we're apart here and there, but when he comes back, it's like no time has passed. He still has his apartment, and I have my condo, and we have our own time separate from each other. One thing Edward realized from therapy is that he had an issue with being alone; he always felt like he needed to fill the time with people and activities. He didn't know how to be content on his own, so we make sure he spends time alone to figure out who he is as a person.
His therapist thinks it's important to be comfortable with one's own company and thoughts, something Edward has never mastered. So, while most weekends are just for us at one of our homes, one weekend a month, we spend apart. I get to read all weekend or watch the old black and white movies that he can't stand, and he gets to play video games or do whatever it is that occupies his time.
It's one such weekend where I'll be Edward-less, and I don't have plans with anyone else. Jasper and Alice are gone for the weekend, Emmett and Rose are checking out venues, and most of my other friends have plans or we just couldn't agree on anything.
I'm scrolling on my phone, trying to decide what I'm going to order for dinner to send to Edward, as per our tradition, when I see a text notification drop down.
Jake: Can I call you? I really need someone to talk to.
Jake and I have barely spoken since he showed up on my doorstep the night of Rose and Emmett's engagement party when I blew him off. I did text him a few days later to make sure he was okay and not hurt or anything, but he brushed me off. We've basically been going back and forth with each other, one of us reaching out and the other brushing them off.
I'm hesitant to respond. This isn't the normal text, and if he needs someone, I don't want to turn him away … but. This is the friend who all but kicked me out of my home. The person who let his boyfriend walk all over me and the rest of his roommates without a second thought.
Edward and I have a few rules for our weekends apart: no phone calls. Texting is okay, but no long conversations. I think it's okay to break the rules for this.
"Bella? Babe, is everything okay?" My whole body relaxes at the sound of Edward's voice on the line. I hadn't realized how wound up I felt until he answered my call.
"Um, I don't know. I'm okay, I'm fine, but, um, Jake texted me." I can hear him sigh on the other end.
"You two have been dancing around each other for months. What did he say?" I can hear him take a seat in his used leather recliner we found last month.
"He just asked if he could call because he really needs to talk to someone." I'm pacing in my living room, unsure what Edward will say and what I should do. I desperately wish this wasn't a weekend away from each other.
"Call him; clear the air. Find out what's going on and either make things right between you two or end it once and for all." Edward's voice is soft and kind but firm. He knows how much this has bothered me; after all, Jake was my best friend, and I never wanted for us to end up estranged.
"You're right; thanks." Sighing, I realize how grateful I am. It's been almost a year since Edward and I had our first drunken hookup. If all of this with Jake had happened before then, I don't know who I would turn to for help.
"I know we have our rules, but you call me if you need me. We know better than anyone that some rules are meant to be broken." After saying goodbye, I pull up my messages and click on Jake's name.
He hasn't texted me again in the past thirty minutes, which almost has me just as worried. Usually, if he's trying to get your attention, he'll pester you until you can't ignore him. Tapping on his picture, his number comes up, and I hit the phone icon.
It rings three times before he answers, and his voice is quiet. "Bella?"
"Hey, Jake. Is everything all right?" Sitting down on my couch, I hold my breath. It could be anything; it could be nothing.
"Thank you for calling. I—" His voice catches, and I can tell that he's not only trying not to cry with me on the phone, but he's already shed enough tears. Squeezing my eyes shut, I take a deep breath.
"Do you want to meet somewhere? Remember that park we used to go to and swing late at night?"
He sniffs a few times. "Yeah, I do. I—" I can hear some commotion in the background. "I'm on the phone with my chief. If you need someone to take the duty, I can cover it. I understand. 1800 hours. Bye."
I'm staring down at my blank phone screen, trying to figure out what the hell just happened until it hits me. Jake will meet me at six at the park. Now to worry about why he's talking in code.
I call Edward back immediately and tell him the situation. He's not thrilled about the idea of Jake apparently lying to someone, so he's sitting about fifty yards away from me in the park, looking like an absolute creeper. He's wearing dark sunglasses, a ball cap, and reading a newspaper. It's absurd.
I'm idling on the swings when my phone buzzes with a text.
Jake: I'll be there in 5.
When Jake comes walking up, not only is he in uniform, he's sporting the freshest black eye over some obvious older bruising. His face and neck are a myriad of colors ranging from bright purple to garish green.
When he registers the horror on my face, Jake grimaces. "If you think this is bad, you should see my back."
"What do you mean I should see your back? What the hell happened to you?" My hands reach for his cover, but he bats them away.
"You know who did this. Embry. I've gone to my command; I've gone to legal; I've gone to every resource. I need help to get out and away from him. I don't know what to do." Jake looks broken, as if I'd say no or anything else negative to him, that he's just going to accept this as his fate.
"What do you mean you've gone to every resource? No one is helping you?"
Jake tells me that while the military repealed "Don't Ask, Don't Tell", that doesn't change the fact that so many people in power have no desire to deal with LGBTQIA+ service members. Embry's been slowly putting everything in his name, in the vein of "protecting" Jake. Financial abuse is real and so hard to detect until it's usually too late. Like when Embry bought a huge new truck. Or when Jake informed his command that he was diagnosed HIV positive four months ago, they tried to medically discharge him. They've been blackballing him ever since. He can't do a plethora of things because of his "condition".
"How did you get HIV, Jake? You've always been so careful?" My voice is barely above a whisper. It's always been a fear for me regarding my friend. Maybe unfounded or irrational, but maybe not.
He doesn't look up. "Embry. It was a bad night."
He went to his chief to report the assault. Embry is also enlisted, and Jake was scared. Embry outranks him, even in a different class. Nothing happened. Then he got the diagnosis. Again, he went to his chief because he needed to tell him. Word got back to Embry, and that's when he started to abuse Jake.
"At first, I just thought he was angry, and frankly, I understood it because I was angry too. Angry with him, angry with my chief and the Navy. Maybe even angry for being made this way; I don't know." He looks over at me, his big brown eyes full of unshed tears.
"And then Embry went out one night, and I was watching TV, you know, flipping channels. I landed on some TV movie where the woman was being abused by her husband, and I saw myself. And I just … I don't know." He sighs shakily, as several of those tears finally fall.
"Didn't want to be a Lifetime movie?" I reach out for his hand slowly, and he grabs onto me like a drowning person reaches for a life preserver. "What can I do?"
"You're already here. That's more than I expected."
Inhaling sharply through my nose, I smile tightly. "Okay. You're coming home with me. We're going to the police; they'll love seeing me again."
"What?"
"I'll fill you in. Edward can go get you what you need. You'll stay with me." I inform him, dropping his hand and standing. "We've got a lot to do. Let's get to it."