A/N – Surprise! Bonus chapter this weekend
Soooo … I get it. I really do. I understand why some of you are not happy with Edward.
. I'm a HEA-after girl through and through but have put some soul-searching bumps in the road for Edward before he gets there.
A lot of you feel like Edward has been playing both sides between Kate and Bella, and I get it. You're angry that he didn't tell Bella about Kate right away and feel it's not fair to Kate either. I'm angry too. Believe me; he knows how it looks and owns his part in that. Edward is nothing if not self-flagellating. If you can't forgive him, that's okay.
I appreciate you reading, and if this less-than-perfect Edward isn't for you, I don't begrudge you that at all. But this was my plan for his journey from the beginning. Kate has her own journey, and I think you'll find she's not perfect either.
I hope this chapter can provide some more insight.
Also, a few of you indicated you were confused about the timeline of the last chapter. Sorry, I can see how that might not have been clear. Edward's visit to New York is taking place the week AFTER the snow day but BEFORE the conference room debacle. Snow day was Saturday, and he jumped on a plane on Monday after talking to Garrett. Conference room presentation will happen on Friday when he gets back from New York, and well, we all know what happens then.
If you're still with me, thanks. Now let's see how this tough discussion between Edward and Kate will go.
S. Meyer owns all things, Twilight.
Chapter 9
EPOV
The slider to the balcony is open, and the breeze from the unusually mild day ruffles my hair as I stare at my open laptop. The sounds of the traffic below float into the room, but instead of the soothing hum I remember, now, it seems irritating. Each loud blatting horn is jarring, and the pounding of a jackhammer grates my nerves. I realize I've read the same email three times without comprehending it. With a frustrated expletive, I get up and close the door.
I can hear Kate, down the hall, talking to a client.
I walk to the refrigerator to get a water and push aside a six-pack of beer, wondering when she started drinking Heineken. I consume half the bottle and lean back against the counter. The kitchen is different too. She painted it a dove grey color. It used to be blue.
I stare up at the ceiling, knowing that our conversation is going to be hard. I have no idea what she's thinking. We haven't effectively communicated with each other about anything other than surface pleasantries for months. Rose, of all people, helped me decide what I was going to do about the situation. When she sat down beside me after I hung up with Garrett, she quickly knocked back her drink and hit me head-on.
"You know you have to end things with Kate, right?" Her tone was direct, but it wasn't as clipped and brusque as usual.
"I know," I said. "I'm going to go out on Monday."
She watched me silently before she looked down at her hands and picked at her nails.
"It's my fault," she said, and her voice was quiet.
I was taken aback by her statement.
"What?"
Her eyes stayed downcast. "It's my fault that your relationship imploded. It's my fault you're here and not in New York."
"Rose, no," I said. My voice was soft. She looked up, and all the pain and anguish she'd been carrying since my brother died was on full display. The mask she liked to wear was gone, and the vulnerable girl who was abandoned as a baby stared back at me.
"If you weren't so worried about us," she said. "If I hadn't made you feel that we needed you so much, maybe –"
"Stop," I said, looking into her eyes with determination as I slowly shook my head. "That's absolutely untrue."
She didn't respond, and I could tell she didn't believe me.
I sighed. "Things between Kate and me weren't good way before Riley died."
I leaned forward, rested my arms on my knees, and put my head in my hands before I shot her a sideways look.
"Honestly? We had problems over a year ago - before he even got sick."
I reached over and picked up the bottle of alcohol and raised my eyebrow at her in silent question. She nodded once, and I filled both of our glasses.
It was true. I had doubts then. But I brushed them off as ordinary nerves any long-time bachelor feels when he gets into a serious relationship—cold feet. But there were times, especially when she'd had too much to drink, when I thought Kate might have been uncertain too. Like when I floated the idea of moving in together. I assumed it was the next step; what people did. She rejected the suggestion and told me it was healthy to keep a bit of independence from each other. Looking back, I think I was relieved.
And then Riley was diagnosed. And when that happened, I pushed aside any lingering doubts floating around my mind's periphery. I told myself they were trivial and inconsequential and that I was lucky to have a kind and gentle partner, especially when I saw what my brother was facing.
In hindsight, I should have listened to my inner voice, which told me we weren't right for each other. If I had, we probably would have realized sooner that we both deserved more.
"Well, coming out here didn't help the situation," Rose said.
I leaned back and rested the ankle of my right foot against my left knee. "Actually, I think it did."
She studied me.
"It was probably the best thing that could have happened," I said. " I just went about it wrong and fucked it all up."
"Because of Bella," she said, and there was no accusation in her voice.
I looked up quickly.
"It's obvious you have feelings for her," she said.
I ran my hand through my hair. I couldn't deny it, and I was tired of trying. "Yes," I admitted. "But Bella's not the reason I'm confused, Rose."
She arched an eyebrow at me as if in disbelief, and I rolled my eyes. "Okay, poor choice of words. Yes, I'm confused because of my feelings for Bella, but she's not the reason I realized I need to end things with Kate."
She scoffed, and I gave her a serious look. "She's not. This entire fucked up situation is my fault. I came out here and pretended I didn't have to deal with the fact that I wasn't in love with Kate—at least not how she deserves. And I used my love for Riley and the boys, and yes, even you, Rose, as a convenient excuse not to deal with it. But Ri dying? That made me realize life is too short not to do what makes you happy."
I thought about Bella and the pasta.
Rose looked at me, and the pain was back on her face.
"And that's not your fault," I said, and my voice was firm as I tried to get that through her head.
"I want to be here. I need to be here. For all of you, but also for me, and through that," I fisted my hair. "I finally realized what I want."
"Bella," she said.
I sighed. "I'm going to tell her how I feel, but I don't expect anything to happen between us, even after I end things with Kate."
"Why not," she said, and I could hear the surprise in her voice.
I looked up at her and was hit with a longing that threatened to overwhelm me. "Because I wasn't honest with her, and because I don't deserve her, and because I still care about Kate's feelings. But more importantly, because right now, I think I need to concentrate on straightening out my shit before I can be with anybody."
Her expression softened.
"And while I might be late," I said, "on Monday, I'm going to get on a plane, and I'm going to do the right thing."
~!~
I push away from the counter, replaying my conversation with Rose, before walking to the recycling bin. Lifting the lid, I notice an appointment card on the side of the refrigerator: Dr. Banner, Kate's therapist. Kate's been seeing her since she returned from her first visit to see me in Chicago. Riley had just died, and she came for a long weekend. We hadn't even discussed the possibility of a permanent move yet. I told her it was premature, but she insisted on researching law firms.
And that's when Mr. Volturi's wife, Heidi, got the impression that we were engaged. The way Kate tells it, things got lost in translation. While I was working, she'd gone to lunch with Heidi, and after a few cocktails, they began discussing the two firms Kate was considering. By their third mimosa, Heidi had a house picked out for us, and she was showing Kate photos of dresses from a designer friend. And somehow, that boozy lunch resulted in Heidi telling Mr. Volturi we were engaged.
Kate was mortified, but I brushed it off and told her it wasn't a big deal. But she couldn't let it go. She insisted her drinking had become problematic, that the stress of Riley's death and my move to Chicago had put her on edge. She started seeing her old therapist immediately, and from the date on the card, it looks like her next session is tomorrow.
I walk to the guest bathroom and pass her office. The door is closed, but I can hear her on the phone. Her voice is low, muffled.
"Don't you think this is hard on me too?"
There's silence, and then she speaks again.
"I have to go. I can't … I can't deal with this right now."
I go into the bathroom and close the door. When I come out, she's in the living room. She's changed from her sweatshirt and leggings and wears a short-sleeved T-shirt and jeans. The sweatshirt hid it before, but it's glaringly evident now. Looking at her, I'm surprised at how thin she is.
"So, um, I'm finished," she says. "But if you've still got more to do …"
I shake my head. "No, I'm good."
I look out the window and notice the sky has turned pink as twilight engulfs the city.
"I, um, haven't gotten to the store, so there's not much to eat here. I just ordered a stromboli from Nino's. Is that okay?"
"Sure, that sounds good," I say.
We look at each other and know the moment of truth is upon us.
"Okay," she says, and her voice wavers. "It should be here in a few minutes."
She goes to the kitchen and pulls out plates and napkins before opening the refrigerator.
"I have beer," she says. "Do you want one?"
I clear my throat. "Um, sure. When did you start drinking beer?"
She whips around, her face slack.
"I just keep it for guests."
She swallows and turns to the silverware drawer but doesn't say anything else.
~!~
"Coming, Kate," I say. "I'll be right in."
I'm out on the balcony having a cigarette. When I come back in, I see her curled on the couch. Her face is pensive. I sit in the chair opposite her and steel myself for what I'm about to do. I hang my head and then look up at her. Her eyes are on me, and there's anguish in them.
I'm an asshole.
"Kate, I –"
She sits up suddenly, and her eyes dart across the room before settling on me.
"It's all my fault," she blurts.
I look at her, and my brow furrows at her statement.
"No, it's not, I'm …" I search for the right words that will convey all the guilt I feel, but all I come up with is what I know to be true since admitting my feelings about Bella to myself.
"I'm an asshole."
She pulls the sleeves of the sweatshirt she's donned again down over her hands and crosses her arms over her chest.
"No, you're not," she says, and her voice is barely above a whisper. She doesn't look at me.
When she finally lifts her head, her eyes shimmer with tears.
"You're not an asshole, Edward. I am."
I look at her incredulously and wonder if I can really do this —if I can hurt her more than I have already. I shake my head.
"I should have –"
I stop and look at her, my heart wrenched by the tears that spill down her cheeks. She grips the couch cushions underneath her like they're the only thing holding her in place and shakes her head back and forth like she doesn't want to hear what I'm about to say. My gut churns, and I know I'm the lowest form of scum to walk the earth. And then she speaks, her voice low as she raises her head and looks at me with the most pained expression I've ever seen.
"I slept with Garrett."
A/N
Well, I guess she has some explaining to do ... as does Garrett.
Thanks for sticking with the story.
