Chapter 49.

~ Bella ~

Home. His lips on me feel like home.

His hands first cradle my face, but then they wander down, to my arms, to my hips. They clasp and release, uncertain where to land.

"Edward," I barely whisper, as his lips press on my neck. He moans a little, in pleasure or pain, I'm not sure, until his hands grip my waist, bringing me to him. And then his lips find their way back to mine.

I'd thought about the possibility of this moment for far too long. During my time at the rehab facility. Back at my parents' house. In Forks. In Texas. And every second since I've been back. But I never dared to hope that it would actually happen—that he'd allow it to happen—that he'd let me back in after blowing us apart with the lie that I thought was the only way to protect him.

Phil had made lots of threats. He recognized that I was starting to think for myself, that I had a newfound confidence that was all thanks to Edward. He also saw that Edward was my one weakness, and he chose to exploit it.

I couldn't let him.

I wouldn't let him crush Edward's dreams at my expense. He had worked so hard to make it as far as he did, and it was only just the beginning for him. He had such raw untapped potential.

Edward breaks the kiss for air, panting as his forehead drops onto mine. His hand threads through my hair, gripping the strands.

I wasn't lying when I told Edward I'd give him all the time he needed, but now having had his lips on mine, I don't know how we could ever go back.

My hands cup his face as I pull back and look up at him. His eyes are still closed, and his face is contorted in a slight wince.

"Is your nose hurting?"

"Like a motherfucker," he says, and when he opens his eyes, he chuckles.

"I'm sorry…" I can't help my own laugh as my fingers trace on his jaw. "Do you think it's broken?"

"Probably not." He shrugs while his eyes inspect mine. "I iced it already, and I'll ice it some more tonight." He exhales roughly through his mouth as his hand reluctantly leaves my waist. He takes a step back then, his fingers reaching into his hair.

They don't go far though, his fingers, as they return to my face, his thumb gently rubbing on my cheek. A pained expression clouds his features. "You don't know how hard I tried to keep myself from wanting this."

My knees feel weak at his confession, my heart crushes at the pain I see in his eyes. While I am relieved that by keeping myself from him, I was able to keep him safe from Phil, I do regret the pain this caused him.

My hand closes around his wrist, my face leaning into his touch. My eyes bore into his, and the world around us disappears. I hold his gaze, never wanting to let go. "I love you," I whisper, elated that I finally get to tell him. "I never stopped wanting this—wanting you."

"What the fuck do we do now?" His hand closes behind my neck, as he leans back onto me.

"I don't know," I say honestly. "Talk, probably?"

"Yeah," he says and smiles. My heart soars. "Probably."

"Okay," I say, as he steps away from me, his fingers pulling nervously on his neck. "We should get your nose checked first though, just in case?"

"I think it's fine," he says casually. "If it was broken it would still be bleeding. Does it look messed up?"

I smile at his question, inspecting his face. "It's a little swollen, but not crooked." I place my hands on his face, making him look up. "Did you take something for the pain?"

"Not yet…" His eyes are back on mine when he looks down.

I want to take him home, let him rest, help him ice his nose and take care of him. I want to cook for him. Show him how I take care of myself now. But all of those things sound too rushed, too soon. He barely just let me back in and I don't want to scare him away.

"Okay, so…" I twist and untwist my fingers, desperate for ways to prolong my time with him. "Do you want to talk here, or go somewhere else, or…?" The nerves are clear in my voice, and I think he notices it because he smiles like he knows.

"Can we go get something to eat? I know just the place," he proposes. "I'm starving."

Before I can answer, his eyes are on mine, and I can almost see the wheels turning in his head as regret—and pain—flash in his irises.

"Sorry," he backtracks quickly, but I shake my head, taking a purposeful step closer to him, while my hand—acting on its own—runs down his arm.

"Don't apologize," I add softly. "I am hungry, too." I smile tentatively while looking up at him, my fingers lingering on his forearm. "We can eat," I offer, smiling as he relaxes. "And talk."

He nods, agreeing quickly—almost in relief. He looks at my hand then and hesitates briefly before wrapping his fingers around mine.

~.~.~

The walk is quiet, but he never lets go of my hand.

I recognize where we're going and it makes me smile, tightening my fingers around his.

Of course, the only place to eat open on campus at this hour is the burger joint next to the Subway he used to work at. Where he took me one night, when we were barely just friends, it feels like a lifetime ago.

He orders two cheeseburgers with fries and a chocolate milkshake to share—the same thing he ordered that night—and when he brings the bottle of malt vinegar, my eyes water.

"You remember?" I ask, trying to control my emotions.

"Of course I remember." He sits with a huff, looking at me expectantly from across the table.

I pick a fry between my fingers, dipping it in the vinegar before biting half of it off. Edward follows, taking a bite of his burger.

"You don't have to tiptoe around my ED anymore, Cullen," I try, and when he doesn't object, I smile. "Can I still call you that?"

He nods sweetly, before chuckling.

"Is there anything you want to know?" I ask between bites. "Because I have like a million questions since you're so annoyingly private!"

"Honestly, I'm still processing everything." He puts his burger down and subtly rubs on his right shoulder, circling it a couple times. It makes his shirtsleeve ride up, revealing more of his new ink. "But I'm sure I'll have a million questions, too." He smiles at me, grabs his burger, and takes a bite. "What do you want to know?"

Anything I want to ask seems inconsequential and non-important.

"Everything. Nothing," I say with a shrug. "I just want to be here with you."

He smiles, taking another bite of his burger.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" I ask him.

His eyes trail, from mine to over my shoulder and behind me, in the general direction of the Subway next door, where he worked…with her…while a guilty haze clouds his eyes.

I hate that that is where his mind goes, and that he feels guilty over it. If anyone should feel guilty here, it's me.

"I already know some things." I smile, trying to diffuse the situation as he returns his eyes to me, raising an eyebrow. "I know about Lauren…" I gesture with my thumb over my shoulder.

I always knew she was into him, always making him stay longer—I had my eye on her.

"Oh…" He looks down.

"Vicky told me. Well, I asked her before coming back. I needed to know if you were involved with someone…" I look down briefly, taking a deep breath. "So I could prepare myself for it."

I would have come back regardless. As soon as everything was resolved in court, my number one priority was to return to Summitt and, well, him. Edward deserved to know the truth and to hear my apology in person. If he had been with someone, if he had moved on, I would have been devastated, but I'd like to think I would have accepted it, and let him be happy.

He seems to take a second to think, undecided on what to say.

"You don't have to feel guilty about it," I say, and I mean it. "I knew it was bound to happen, and I am the only one to blame."

His eyes meet mine in a whirlwind of emotion.

"I was at least glad it wasn't with someone you partner stunt with," I joke lightly, and he cracks a smile, eyes never leaving mine.

"Outside of the team's routine and my private sessions, I don't really partner stunt anymore," he explains while my heart speeds up. "I haven't competed…not since you anyway."

"I haven't competed in a partner stunt either," I tell him. "Tonight was probably the hardest I've stunted in a long time."

"Same," he says, rubbing his shoulder again.

I have plenty more questions—two years' worth—but I decide to lighten the topic of conversation. "When did you get that?" I gesture at his arm, and he lifts it from the table, turning it over and letting me see all of it.

"That summer…two years ago." He takes a gulp of the milkshake, his eyes never leaving mine. "I've added a few things since."

"Is it one of your mom's paintings?" I ask, even though I recognize the mountains and the full moon between them. He nods softly but doesn't say anything else. "How is she doing?" I prod further.

"She's doing great, actually," he says proudly. "She even had a gallery display some of her art in the spring." The love Edward has for his mom spills into each one of his words, and it makes my heart beat harder for him.

"I love that. I've been painting a lot more, too. But no gallery has shown Marie Naws' art yet." I chuckle as his eyebrows scrunch in the middle.

"Who's Marie Naws?" he asks with a hint of a smile.

"Me." I laugh a little louder as his smile spreads. "I needed a pseudonym. I didn't want it to be associated with anything cheer—or Phil—related."

Edward's face transforms from amusement at my made-up name to utter rage.

"I fucking hate him." He groans, dropping his burger on the wrapper. "I hate them and everything they've done to you."

I hated them too, for a long time. But hatred was taking too much of a burden on me, so I focused on getting rid of them instead.

"But what I hate the most," Edward continues, "is not having been there for you."

"I'm sorry for taking that away from you, and for how much that must have hurt." My eyes water, but I try to keep it together. "I hope one day you'll be able to forgive me for that."

"I understand why you did it." His eyes are so honest and pure, fixed on mine as he shakes his head. "And to be honest, nothing would have kept me from going to find you, if I had known you were only trying to protect me. I would have crawled to Florida if I had to."

The fact that he doesn't say he forgives me for it is not lost on me, but it doesn't matter right now. I'll work every second second of every day to earn that forgiveness. As long as he'll let me.

"Is it really over, though?" One of his hands goes under the table, where I know he's rubbing his thigh anxiously. "Is Phil out of your life? What about your mom?"

Here are the million questions he promised.

"My mom can't be by herself. They separated for a while, but she's back with him again." I shrug it off—my mom's weaknesses do not make me who I am, at least not anymore. "I have an order of protection against Phil, so that keeps her away from me too. I haven't seen them outside of the courtroom. Everything was finalized about a month ago."

I can almost see the anger simmering under Edward's skin, so I reach for his hand across the table, soft fingertips tracing over rough knuckles.

"They can't hurt me anymore," I reassure him. "And they won't hurt you either."

"I'd like to see him try." He grits the words out through clenched teeth.

"He's got enough karma coming for him. Don't worry." I swallow down as my stomach turns. "I don't know how much you've heard on the news … but, during trials, a few athletes he trained way back when have come forward with some pretty serious allegations of abuse. Not to mention claims that he tried to keep other's sexual abuse accusations under the table, including Roy's. Did you hear about that? He was in on it too."

"I heard about Roy," Edward says, shaking his head. His fingers press on his chest as he vibrates in anger.

"Lots of pervs in our sport," I say with a shudder.

"Fuck, Swan…did Phil ever—?"

"No." Not really. "I mean, he would comment on my body, on the fit of my clothes. Sometimes he would touch me when trying a new outfit…like over the fabric? It didn't seem weird then, but it makes me sick now." When my eyes water, Edward is out of his chair and next to mine, wrapping his arms around me.

"I want to kill him," he says, and it makes me chuckle between my tears.

"Charlie almost did," I add softly, hugging myself to him. "And got himself arrested for assault."

"I would have helped him hide the body," Edward mutters under his breath, securing his arms tighter around me.

"Sue had to bail him out." I breathe deeply, letting it all out, and when Edward kisses my forehead, I feel the safest I've ever felt in the past two years.

"He'll never come near you again." It's a promise, and I believe him wholeheartedly.

I bury my face in his chest, and again, I'm home. This time, for good.