Bella
I get the feeling Edward needs some space. And yeah, I accept that. But that doesn't mean that I actually like it. But maybe a little space wouldn't be the worst thing for us. For both of us. All my thoughts have been consumed by Edward, lately. And I know that's not exactly the healthiest thing in a relationship. If you can call whatever the hell is going on with us a relationship…So I admit that I need to think. To ponder everything over that seems to have happened in a tempo the Flash might be jealous of.
My thoughts drift off to my mother, to her behavior, to the husbands she has collected before settling down with Edward. It makes no sense to me for her to pick a man like Edward Cullen. He isn't anything like the men she used to date. Or marry.
Mother usually goes for investment bankers, for businessmen, not handymen or landscapers. It makes me think about how the fuck she actually met him, and how she started dating him. And how did that all lead up to her actually proposing to him? I can't wrap my head around it. No matter how hard I try. Hard work and honest living have never been Renée's type.
Mike's phone ringing pulls me out of my head and into the real world. He takes the call, voice down before glancing at me and disappearing out back.
I don't really dwell on it, though. There's more than enough work here to keep me busy. E-mails with cancellations keep coming in, too. It might be better to keep that to myself a little bit longer. But instead of entering the client's information into the new database I worked out, I find myself tapping my phone screen. But I have no unread notifications. And yeah, it bugs me. So I take matters into my own hands, type up a message and send it right away.
Are you okay?
It's a simple text, and maybe it's not the most personal message, but I'm genuinely concerned since Edward's eyes were so sad as he left. It's almost as if his eyes were the grass and drops of dew were hovering above it. They were glimmering and dim at the same time. He deserves to have so much more in life than he has right now. I wish I could give him more than I can right now. I wish things really were different, even though I probably never would have met Edward Cullen if my mother hadn't decided to marry him. And he wouldn't even have known I exist. I guess fate is doing a number on me right now.
I guess I have one thing to be grateful for after all when it comes to my mom.
My phone beeps once, about seven minutes later. Mike still hasn't come back inside yet.
I will be. Don't worry about me, doll.
Why do they always do that? They tell you not to worry, which always makes me more worried. I sigh audibly. And decide to just…go for it. Edward is what I want in life. I can figure the rest out later.
You mean the world to me, daddy. More than the world, honestly. More than the universe, and all the rest of it.
My heart thumps loudly behind my eardrums, deafening me almost. I've never really confessed my feelings to a guy like this. Or ever. I'm falling for Edward. And I'm not just falling for him. I think I might be falling in love. Something I thought would never happen to me.
You're the sun to my earth, sweetheart. Don't you forget.
I smile so hard my cheeks hurt, and I bite the inside to stop myself from losing it. Call me crazy, but I screenshot the text and make it my background. No one's ever said something so beautiful to me. This little conversation makes me feel a little bit better.
"Yeah, babe, love you. See you tonight." Mike's voice is low, but I still hear him as the song in my AirPods fades out. I thought Edward told me Mike wasn't seeing anyone special right now.
"Girlfriend, heh?" I ask, glee little smile on my face.
Mike scratches the back of his neck nervously.
"Who says it wasn't my sister?"
I snort, downing my glass of water.
"Sure, I'd call my sister 'babe', too. Whatever, sleazeball."
He laughs at my remark but ignores it otherwise. I guess he really is a fuckboy, if it's possible to be called that when you're in your late thirties.
"How's your mom doing?" he asks suddenly.
My head shoots up immediately, heat crawling up my spine, giving me goosebumps.
"My mom?" Flames shoot up to the tips of my ears.
"Renée…You know, Edward's wife…your mother?" He acts like I'm stupid.
I blink, surprised. I thought we agreed to keep that little detail to ourselves and not tell Mike who I was.
"Honey, she was at the company barbecue, I've been to your house a couple of times. She has a few pictures of you on on display there."
"Oh, I didn't know you'd been to her place before."
"I've had a dinner or two there, yeah." He smiles obnoxiously. "You know, boys nights, and all."
Mother doesn't cook. Ever. At least not how I remember it. Then again, I lived at my dad's place more than I ever did at her place.
I just give him a smile and focus on my work again.
"Does she like it that you work here, now?"
"I really don't want to talk about my mother right now, Mike. If you don't mind," I start. "I have work to do."
"Such a good, eager girl, Bella," he smirks dirtily. I feel sick to my stomach.
"I'd appreciate you not patronizing me, thank you." I don't even look up, crunch numbers, and type in silence with my music turned up, all the way until four p.m.
"Any more screen time today and I'll go cross eyed," I announce after the next hours have crawled by, getting up from the desk chair, smoothing my dress down my thighs. "I have to go, I have somewhere to be," I lie.
"Cool, see you Monday." Mike's busy tapping away on his phone, perched on top of his desk, the laces of his work boots dangling in the air.
"Have a good weekend."
I procrastinate going home and make a detour, and I find myself wandering around Target for an hour and a half, picking up a few bits and bobs for my room when I hear them, and I get that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. It's not quite regret, but more like I grieve never having what these people have.
It's a mother and her son, and he can't have been much older than thirteen. They're laughing about something, and I hear the mother promise her kid she'd make his favorite for dinner tonight. Something about the moment brings tears to my eyes, and I walk closer to the aisle they're in, seeing her arm draped around the blond boy's shoulder, giving him a sideways hug. Somehow, this little affectionate moment makes me feel a little healed about my childhood. She's such a great mom. He's so lucky to have her but probably won't realize that until he's much, much older and she's gone.
I stare at the box of cereal in front of me, not really seeing anything at all except for blurry tears and the ground through my cart. That's when it hits me. I don't have to take this shit from my mother. If I find another part-time job, I can save up for a deposit, rent a little place for myself, and untangle myself from my mother's web of toxicity. I could be myself there. I could be with Edward there. For real. We could be real.
I'll do anything in my power to make that happen as soon as possible. I'll work so hard she'll never see it coming when I leave.
