A/N: I'm not too late this time, am I? If I am, I have a really good excuse. Two words: Leon Kennedy. Lord, these video game boys are killing me.
The response I got last update really made me smile. Apparently I was meant to lose readers, not gain them. You guys are awesome, and I want you to know that. I love you all.
Just a reminder, I have no beta for this fic, so it's not going to be perfect. I think I do alright though.
Anywho, I'll shut up. Enjoy.
Footprints in the Sand
Chapter 29
I wake the next morning to the theme of Dr. Who pulling me begrudgingly from memories of Alice's wedding recapped in my dreams.
Groaning impatiently, annoyed by the presence of daylight and the uninterrupted sunshine pouring between the semi-parted curtains, I reach out clumsily for my phone. I'm met with nothing but crumbled, empty sheets.
Sitting myself up, I stretch my arms high above my head as I scan the room for the whereabouts of the devilishly handsome man I fell asleep with just before dawn this morning. He enters the room a moment later, bare-chested and carrying two steaming mugs.
Flashing me a quick grin, he places both mugs on the nightstand and picks up my phone, as that ever-constant frown of his immediately knots in his brow.
"What's this?" he asks, turning the screen to me.
Birth control, idiot, is lit up across it before Edward switches it off and hands it to me.
"My alarm," I mumble, my voice still hopelessly clogged from lack of sleep as I toss it back to his nightstand. "What was that face?"
"What face?" he asks, sitting himself beside me on the edge of his bed and leaning over me.
I imitate him, and only succeed in making him laugh. There's a rustic huskiness behind it, suggesting that he's not long ago woken himself.
"Bella..." Taking my wrists in both his hands, he lays me back against the mattress, and by the notable strain behind his Calvin Klein boxer briefs, he woke in a good mood. "Why do you refer to yourself as an idiot?" he asks, kissing me tenderly but briefly, and momentarily flooding me with the spearmint-flavored heatedness of his breath.
"If I don't remind myself, I'll forget," I explain, turning my head to the side when he again presses his lips to mine. "Edward... my breath has to be hideous."
And I really do have to take my birth control.
"It's not," he assures me, burying his face against my neck and trailing his lips down to my shoulders. "Good morning."
I think about holding out for a few seconds before conceding, but Edward has way too much power over me, and he's well aware of it.
"Morning..." I reply, releasing my breath into a long, wavering sigh.
I'm still hopelessly tangled in his robe, I realize; something Edward quickly peels from my naked body, and replaces with his own.
"You're not an idiot," he promises, continuing to envelop me in the warmth of both his lips and that long, lean body of his, but he's taking things slowly, and just as he moves himself between my legs, the sound of someone knocking on his front door breaks between us.
With a deep languid moan, Edward momentarily collapses against me. "It's probably my mother with Addie."
Dragging himself from over me, he pulls himself to his feet and disappears behind his closet door.
"Can you let them in, please, sweetheart?" he puts to me from the other side of it when the knocking continues.
"Sure," I reply, and hastily wrapping his robe back around my shoulders, I practically skip down the stairs.
Edward was right about it being his mother, only Addie isn't with her.
"Hi, Mrs. Cullen," I greet her warmly as her gaze instantly zeroes in on my left eyebrow, reminding me of a certain event with Rose the night before.
"Where's Edward?" she asks in a notably stiff voice, and it's not so much a question than it is an accusation that immediately takes me aback.
Her lips are thin and her expression is hard; I've never seen this side of her before.
"He's u-upstairs," I stammer in tune to softly thudding footsteps behind me.
"Where's Addie?" Edward asks, coming to a standstill beside me. He's wearing a pair of black jeans and a white t-shirt, and if it was under any other circumstances, I might have jumped him. Never before have I ever witnessed him so ruggedly unkept, but he's noticed his mother's expression, as well. "What—"
"A word, Edward," she says curtly, motioning to his open study with a subtle tilt of her head.
"What's this about?" he asks, his frown returning as he folds his arms across his chest.
"I'd like a word with you in private," she reiterates, roughly clearing her throat, and before he can respond, she turns and walks inside the room.
Edward follows behind with a quiet huff, throwing me an apologetic smile as he does, and while I can only guess what the issue is, I'm quickly filling with dread that it concerns me.
Perhaps Addie repeated something she saw while she was in my care that Mrs. Cullen doesn't approve of.
Perhaps Mrs. Cullen doesn't approve of me.
I had no intention of eavesdropping, but barely before Edward can close the French doors behind him, Esme begins her tirade. It stops me short, and I can only stand, frozen in shock in the foyer and bear witness to it.
"Is this how we raised you? Is this who we are—is this the kind of example you want to set for your daughter!?" Her voice raises with each word spoken until she's on the verge of shouting.
"What are you talking about!?" Edward demands in reply.
"You know very well what I'm talking about," she snaps caustically. "I'm honestly disgusted in you—this is why you should have stayed in therapy."
"Okay, before you condemn me any further, do you mind filling me in on what I'm apparently already aware of?" Edward's tone matches his mother's in intent, only it's overrun with sarcasm.
"The entire family is talking about it—I've had to turn my phone off. We're mortified—"
"Is it so hard to get a straight answer!?" he cuts her off sharply. "What the hell are you talking about!?"
"Rose witnessed what you did to Bella, Edward, and your brother cannot verify that you didn't do it."
Edward doesn't immediately reply, and I can only assume he's been rendered as mute as I am.
My heart's beginning to hammer, and before I'm aware of it, anger is beginning to simmer along my flesh.
"And what exactly did I do to Bella?" he eventually challenges his mother just as I burst through the double doors and round on her.
"You think Edward did this to me!?" I declare, hastily pointing my finger to the cut on the corner of my brow. "Do you think I'd ever tolerate a man putting his hands on me?" I add before she can open her mouth, as she stares at me, her pale blue eyes widening in surprise. "I'd never disrespect myself like that, and I'd never disrespect my father's memory. Edward's been nothing but a gentleman, Mrs. Cullen—he's never even raised his voice at me! He's an amazing father—amazing! Addie adores him, and-and—"
"Bella..." Edward interjects with a sigh, but I only continue to rant without direction as emotion steadily converges on me.
"How could you—how could you just blindly accuse him? He's your son—doesn't he deserve at least to be given the benefit of doubt, or is he automatically guilty until proven otherwise?!" I stop abruptly as my breath draws sharply in my lungs and tears well in my eyes.
"Sweetheart..."
I look up and meet his eyes as he stands rigidly across from me, and while there's a definite tenderness behind them, a storm is brewing just as equally. He's angry. He's more than angry, and there's suddenly something incredibly formidable about him.
"It's reassuring to know nothing's changed," he says with cynical bitterness to Esme as his expression continues to darken.
"Are you telling me, Rose... is lying?" Mrs. Cullen asks after several moments of gazing at the both of us almost blankly.
"Rose was the one who hit me," I set her straight as I attempt to pull myself together, but I'm struggling. I suddenly feel like I'm coming apart. Mrs. Cullen actually thinks her own son assaulted me? "And Alice's two other bridesmaids saw it happen."
Technically, they never actually saw the moment she hit me. Jess said she and Angela heard Rose call me a bitch and then the sound of the slap. They missed it by mere seconds.
"Where...did this take place?" Esme asks, her voice becoming as subdued as it is troubled.
"The bathroom," I answer.
"The bathroom?" she echoes, and while I don't think it was her intention to come across as skeptical, that's exactly how she sounds.
Edward laughs, once and without an ounce of humor.
"Do I need to subpoena the security footage from the venue last night to prove to my family that I don't abuse my wife!" His voice rises hotly, and for a single moment, it doesn't register with me what he just said.
Did he just refer to me as his—
"Bella—that I don't abuse Bella," he quickly amends, rubbing his eyes and the bridge of his nose with tense fingers.
"Why would Rose lie about such a thing?" Esme voices her confusion after several seconds of scrutinizing him; only her question is directed to me.
I practically have to force myself to pull my gaze from Edward and turn to her.
"I'm not sure. A few weeks ago, she invited me to breakfast and admitted she's in love with Edward and that she's settling for Emmett," I admit in a small voice, lowering my gaze to the hardwood floor beneath my feet, hating that I've found myself in the middle of all this. "Ever since then she's been increasingly hostile toward me."
"Oh my—"
"You want to know the irony?" Edward interjects, his voice hard as he stares down his mother with his hands on his hips. "When I asked Bella whether she wanted to press charges, she declined."
"Why would your brother—"
"Where's my daughter?" Edward questions her with deathly calm.
He's wrestling with his emotions, and never before has he ever been more intimidating.
"Your father took her to breakfast. He'll bring her back shortly. Edward, I'm—"
"I don't want to hear it."
"Darling..." she beseeches him, but it's obvious she's aware of the damage she's done. "I'm very sorry, Bella, dear."
"It's f—"
"Don't say it," Edward murmurs, speaking more or less to himself, and reaching out, he takes my hand in his. "This morning I sent Emmett a copy of the contract she breached. You might want to look through it," he concludes, and turning his back on his mother, he pulls me from the room after him. "You can see yourself out."
"Edward..." I begin, but without a word, he releases me and heads straight for the second floor, bringing his phone to his ear as he does.
"Emmett...!"
"Please come over for tea tomorrow, dear," Esme offers as she prepares to leave. "I'd really like to get to the bottom of this."
I nod. "Sure. Mrs. Cu—?"
"Please call me Esme."
Shaking my head to myself, I start over, "Why were you so sure Edward did this to me before you even got his side of the story?"
"I... had no reason to believe Rose would ever lie about such a thing," she answers after a short pause, her eyes beyond me.
"You believe your son is capable of..."
"No." She breaks to expel a heavy breath and momentarily cradles her brow in her palm. "I'm sure you're aware by now of the circumstances surrounding his late wife..."
"I am." I deliberately lower the tone of my voice, concerned Edward will hear.
"It's not that I believe he's capable of... Well, anyway," appearing to pull herself from it, she doesn't elaborate. "I'll see you soon, dear."
Mrs. Cullen leaves, looking as lost in her thoughts as I am, and turning, I head toward the stairs and Edward's increasingly irate-sounding voice.
He's in his room, still on the phone to his brother, and not wanting to interrupt him, I wait outside in the hall.
"Full disclosure, but I'm letting you know now—I've been here before, Emmett, and this time, I won't hesitate to destroy her to protect my family," Edward practically growls, and after, there's silence.
I wait several more seconds to make sure the conversation is absolutely over, before I quietly enter. He's standing in the center of the room, his head lowered, his hands propped on his hips, and his expression absolutely lethal.
Looking up, he meets my gaze, only to throw me a very disjointed smile. "I'm sorry, Bella," he says regrettably, but it does nothing to lessen his very real anger.
"It's not your fault," I assure him softly as I make my way toward him.
Taking a deep-seated breath, he exhales stiffly through his nose. "I need to deal with this," he says, pressing the heel of his palm against his eyes.
"You don't need a reprieve?" I ask, being deliberately coy in an effort to distract him.
He almost smiles and faintly scoffs to himself, and placing both hands to my shoulders, he slides them up to gently cup my face. "Not right now," he says against my brow after planting his lips to it. "Come on, I'll take you home."
Pulling slightly back, I stare at him for a moment, angling my head as I attempt to gauge his expression; it's indecipherable. "...What about taking Addie to get her—"
"Shit." Closing his eyes, he groans lowly to himself, and appears to let go of every molecule of air in his lungs. "I... We'll take her next weekend."
"Edward..." I appeal to him. "She'll be heartbroken. You can't..." Knowing it's not my place to tell him how to raise his daughter, I try another approach. "I can take her."
He observes me for a moment, his furrowed eyebrows low. "I can't ask you to do that."
"You're not. I offered," I point out simply.
His frown deepens, but something else is suddenly reflecting in his eyes, before it disappears behind a definite smile this time. "Take my car," he decides.
"Sure." I return his smile; silently thankful it was so easy to sway him.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Hm? Oh, I mean... Do you?"
"I don't want you coming to your own conclusions," he explains, meeting my gaze only fleetingly before he breaks it.
"Edward, I..."
"Come downstairs—actually..." He sighs again, his shoulders sagging behind it. I can't stand to see him so defeated, but at the same time, this man looks like he could commit absolute murder. "Addie will be home soon. Stay over tonight?"
"Okay, but I need to go running at some point. My head is...loud," I mumble, self-consciously.
"I'll sort that out for you, too," he leans down and promises against my ear in a very dark tone that erases none of his current mindset, and I'm more than on-board.
. . .
After Edward retrieves my suitcase from the trunk of his car, I get dressed, but not before examining myself in his bathroom mirror.
"Oh, wow," I say to myself, arching my cut eyebrow and wincing. A bruise is swelling roughly the size of a quarter and threatening to blacken half my eye.
Leaning over me, Edward places another mug of coffee on the vanity, before gently kissing the side of my neck. "Does it hurt?"
Meeting his eyes through the reflection, and noting the frown on his face, I decide to sugarcoat it.
I shake my head and offer him a reassuring smile. "It looks worse than it is."
"Hmm..." I'm not sure he believes me, but he doesn't push it. "I'll be in my study. Take your time."
"'Kay," I reply, and digging through my toiletries bag, I grab my concealer and do my best to cover it up.
Addie arrives not ten minutes later with Dr. Cullen following close behind.
"Daddy?!" she choruses, having just ran straight past him in the foyer as her eyes zero in on me and widen. "Hi, Bella!"
"Hey, sweetie," I greet her as she attaches herself to me and wraps both arms around my waist.
"In here, Tiger," Edward calls, distracted from his study.
"Did you sleep over with Daddy, Bella?" Addie asks innocently as I'm sure I burst into flames under the close scrutiny of Dr. Cullen.
Like his wife, his gaze cavasses my injured eye, but instead of jumping to conclusions about his son, he offers me a charming smile and hands me Addie's backpack. "Miss Swan."
"How are you, Dr. Cullen?" I ask with a jittery nervousness, but Edward's father is just as intimidating as he is; though, for entirely different reasons.
"I'm well. Please call me Carlisle."
I nod my head and echo his expression, as Edward walks into the foyer.
"How was she?" he asks his father, his eyes on Addie as an immediate smile lights up his face.
"As entertaining as she always is," Carlisle answers, his grin hinting with amusement.
"Did you miss me, Daddy?" Addie asks, grabbing her father's hand and swinging from it.
"Terribly," he teases her. "Say goodbye to Grandpa."
"Bye, Grandpa!" Addie says on cue, immediately flitting to him to hug him in farewell.
Without another word, Dr. Cullen leaves.
"Daddy—"
"What have you spilled over yourself?" Edward asks, hoisting her into his arms.
"Maple syrup. Daddy, are we—"
"Great." Edward smirks as Addie wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him to her.
"Are we going to get my ears—"
"I have to work, Tiger," he lets her down gently with more than an edge of culpability behind his voice, as Addie's face immediately falls, crestfallen.
"But..." she pouts, her bottom lip jutting out adorably.
"But Bella's going to take you," Edward hastily discloses as her expression immediately reverses.
"Really?" Her tone rises happily by several decibels.
"Really, really." I play along to her continued giggles.
"Yay!"
"Maybe we should get you changed first," I suggest, playfully tugging on a strand of her wayward hair.
"Okay," she agrees chirpily, wriggling from her father's arms as he places her back on her feet. Then grabbing my hand, she tugs me in the direction of the stairs. "Hurry, Bella."
"Hey—no running," Edward reproaches her, but he's not even remotely serious, and paying him no regard, Addie drags me to her bedroom.
After helping her into a pair of denim Oshkosh overalls and a pastel-colored rainbow turtleneck—that Addie picked out—I tie the laces of her red chucks, and braid her hair. She's bouncing, and I'm beginning to worry how the hell I'm going to keep her still when she's getting her ears pierced.
"Can I take Gooby, Bella?" she asks, after I take her hand to leave.
"Sure you can," I reply as Edward appears in the doorway.
"Ready to go?" he says, both his eyebrows rising.
"Yes," Addie answers, nodding her head fervently.
"Okay..." He enters the room and approaches the two of us. "No—"
"Talking too much," Addie cuts him off in imitation as I break softly into laughter.
Edward fleetingly closes his eyes, and with a subtle smile, he sighs to himself.
"You're a handful," he notes with more than an obvious edge of affection behind his voice, and placing his palm to the top of her head, he shakes it lightly.
Addie chuckles this time, one hand clamped over her mouth. "Daddy, are we still watching The Incredibles tonight?"
"I suppose," he exaggerates it jokingly.
"Can Bella stay?" she doesn't miss a beat.
"Have you asked her?" He arches a pointed brow.
Whipping her head to me, she opens her mouth, but I immediately preempt her. "Of course, I'll stay. We should get going, sweetie. We don't want to miss your appointment."
It's for one o'clock at Claire's in Westlake Center. I made it not long after Mrs. Cullen left.
"Okay," she says in her high, chirpy voice, all but jumping up and down. "Bye, Daddy!"
"See ya, Tiger," he replies, handing me his car keys.
I take them and stretch on my toes to meet the kiss he presses briefly to my lips. "Any time you want me to bring her home?" I enquire.
He half shakes his head. "I'll leave that to you."
"Alright. See you soon, Daddy," I banter with him.
He smirks in return, but by every definition of the word, he's off, and behind those sharp green eyes of his, the storm is steadily becoming a hurricane.
. . .
By the time I find a park along Pine Street, adjacent the mall, Addie's noticed the condition of my eye.
"What happened, Bella?" she asks, after letting herself out of her booster seat and leaning over the driver's seat to press her index finger gently to it.
"Oh, Uh..." I hastily wrack my brain for a plausible excuse that will placate a five-year-old, "when Alice threw her bouquet—"
"What's a bouquet?"
"Her flowers."
"Why'd she throw them away?" she asks, angling her head to the side in confusion.
"It's tradition, sweetie. The bride throws her flowers and the person who catches them is supposed to be the next one to get married."
"Did you catch them?" she asks promptly.
"No," I say as her face falls into a pout. Angela caught them, but since she's a head taller than the rest of us, it was inevitable. "Anyway, I almost caught them, but I missed, and they bounced straight off my head and scratched me. I'm such a klutz." I pull a face that brings Addie's giggles back to the surface.
"You're silly, Bella."
"Alrighty, are you ready?" I say, tugging her earlobe in emphasis.
"I'm ready!" she all but cheers.
Taking her hand, I make my way to the storefront with Addie skipping beside me. Once inside, and after the usual "this is Bella, my Daddy is gonna marry her" Addie browses the selection of earrings with the help of a very friendly technician; a young woman in her early twenties who fell in love with Addie on sight.
After much deliberation, Addie eventually settles on a pair of platinum, pink cubic zirconia studs. This is when she begins to get nervous.
"Will it hurt, Bella?" she asks in a wary voice.
"No... It's so fast you'll barely feel it," I assure her. At least, that was my impression after I got my ears pierced, but then, I was twelve, not five.
I'm instructed to hold Addie on my lap, and after picking her up, I sit the pair of us on what looks like a black leather barber's chair.
"Bella..." she whimpers tearfully as two body piercers meticulously dot her lobes with a black marker. She's getting both ears done at once, thank God, because I'm feeling almost as overwrought over it as she's becoming.
"It's okay, sweetie. Hold my hand."
She clamps both her little hands around mine as the technicians fuss over her and tell her how pretty she's going to be in overly animated voices.
The guns are placed to her lobes, Addie tenses, and with two loud, simultaneous clacks her ears are pierced.
Gasping audibly, she almost jumps out of her skin, but before the tears welling in her eyes can spill over, a mirror is placed in front of her.
"They look beautiful, sweetie!" I gush, squeezing her with as much enthusiasm.
A smile slowly pushes through her tears until it's tugging broad. "It didn't even hurt that much."
"All done, turnip," the younger of the technicians says, which strikes me as a very strange term of endearment. Gripping her under both armpits, she lifts Addie off my lap to her feet. "Your daddy's going to be fighting off hundreds of boys very soon."
"I'm gonna marry, Riley," Addie declares proudly.
"Well, Riley is one very lucky boy," she replies.
Giggling, Addie takes my hand and helps me from the chair beside her. "Can you take a photo and show Daddy, Bella?"
"Course I can," I say, grabbing my phone from my purse.
Snapping several pics of Addie smiling cheerfully, some with the technicians (at her insistence), I forward a select few to Edward.
It's all over and she was very brave. I text.
Beautiful.He replies almost instantly.
"What did he say, Bella?" Addie asks eagerly.
"He says you look beautiful," I tell her as her grin turns sunny.
After given instructions, and alcohol ointments, on how to care for Addie's ears, I pay the bill and we leave. I don't think anything of it; not until we're heading to the park for lunch.
Jesus, Bella, I forgot to give you my card. Edward messages me, and again before I can reply.Don't say it's fine.
But it is.
It's not. What's your bank details and I'll transfer it over.
Don't be ridiculous. It's on me.
I don't agree with this.
If you're going to make a big deal out of it, you can make it up to me tonight.
That's a given. What else do you want?
New underwear. You ruined mine last night, remember?
Bella.
Edward. I imitate him in turn. How's everything?
Smith-Morra Gambit.He references a particularly aggressive chess move.
I would have gone with a bird's opening. I reply. Were you just testing me?
Habit, but the fact you understood me, really turns me on.
You are so forward.
"Bella?" Addie breaks into my preoccupation as she swings my arm back and forth with hers.
"What is it, sweetie?"
"Who caught Alice's flowers?" she enquires curiously as we stop at a pedestrian crossing.
"Angela."
She ponders it for a moment, her index finger pressed to her chin. "Will you ask Angela not to get married until you and Daddy do?"
"And why do you want me to get married to your daddy so much, Miss Addie?" I tease her.
"'Cause then you'll be my mommy for real."
"Aww, sweetie..." My voice softly hitches—she's threatening to reduce me to tears—and needing a distraction to quickly collect myself, I glance down at my phone.
Edward had sent me one last text.
I love you, Bella.
A/N: thanks for reading. You can leave your thoughts if you like. If not see you next time :)