A/N: this is not a drill. Yes I'm updating another chapter less than a week after the last. Yes, we should all buy a lottery ticket. Yes, it's probably the Apocalypse. Yes, I have nfi what's going on, so let's just go with it.
This one's a bit longer than usual, too. I know right? What the ever-loving fuck is happening? But a few things needed to be said in this one. Can you pick up any clues? Let me know if I'm doing a good/shitty job of subtle foreshadowing.
A reminder; I don't write smut, so if there's a sex scene added, it's because it's a part of the plot. Was that a spoiler?
Alright, that's about everything. Hope you enjoy, and lastly, I have no beta, so if you review simply to point out an error, I'm gonna think you're a snot.
Footprints in the Sand
Chapter 31
It's everywhere; all over her bed, the floor and Addie herself. A huge puddle of sticky, god awful-smelling mess.
"Oh, dear," I say, looking down at her with an edge of teasing in my tone.
"I frew up on Gooby," she declares, her eyes huge and slowly welling with tears.
"It's okay, sweetie. We'll get him all cleaned up," I assure her, and glancing over my shoulder, I seek out her father. He's leaning against the frame of the door, a greenish tinge to his face. "You okay, Daddy?" I put to him, fighting the urge to all-out laugh.
"Fine," he answers behind the hand he has clamped to his mouth. "Can you take care of this?" he practically pleads with me, sounding like he's on the verge of gagging.
I do laugh, this time. He did warn me he was faint-hearted, but he also promised me he was good with holding back hair. "I can. Put you head between your knees."
Making a strange kind of moaning sound, he promptly leaves the near vicinity, keeping his nose and mouth completely covered.
"That daddy of yours..."
Addie has bile in her hair and needs another bath, and after running one in her adjoining bathroom, I prop her on the vanity to help brush her teeth. Despite Edward's concerns she has the stomach flu, she appears completely fine. I'm convinced it was just the fact she went to bed so soon after working herself into such a state beforehand.
On top of eating barely any pizza and way too much ice-cream.
"How's your tummy?" I ask her regardless.
"It's okay. I'm hungry," she confirms my theory.
"We'll get you something to eat when we're done. 'Kay?"
"'Kay," she happily agrees. "Bella?"
"Hmm? Big gulp and then spit." I hand her the plastic cup I'd just filled with tap water.
"How come you didn't have your shirt on?" she asks innocently after wiping her mouth dry with the back of her hand.
"Oh, I"—I hastily wrack my brain for an excuse appropriate for a five-year-old—"I spilled coffee on it. I'm such a goofball." She giggles. "And your daddy is such a gentleman he helped me clean it up."
He was a gentleman, alright.
"Bella?" Dropping her voice to a whisper, she inches closer to me.
"Yes?" I respond in kind, angling my head so she can speak into my ear.
"Did Daddy see your bra?"
Pulling back, I gasp jokingly. "He did," I reply, placing my index finger to my lips as Addie's giggling increases, her shoulders rising with it.
"When can I have a bra?" she asks after I ease her back to her feet and help her to completely strip.
"Not for a very long time," I answer, imagining Edward's reaction and coming close to laughter.
"When I'm big like you?"
"When you're big like me."
"Are my boobies gonna be big like yours?"
"Uh... Jump in," I encourage her, clearing my throat awkwardly and tapping the rim of the half-filled tub in emphasis.
"Bella?" she continues her line of questioning after she resurfaces in the soapy water, her hair rinsed clean of shampoo.
"Hmm?"
"How old are you?"
"How old do you think I am?" I tweak her nose.
"Um... maybe eighteen?"
"Eighteen?" I joke, making her laugh again. "How old do you think Daddy is?"
"Daddy's thirty-three. It looks like this." She holds up both hands with three fingers displayed on each.
"Very good, but I'm a little bit older than eighteen."
"How much older?"
"Nine years. I'm twenty-seven.
"Twenty-seven?" she echoes, tilting her head in contemplation. "That's when I'm gonna have a bra?"
"Maybe a little bit earlier," I reply as she begins to make calculations on her fingers.
"Twenty-two. That's a long way away."
"You added that up all by yourself?" I put to her more than impressed.
"Uh-huh." She nods fervently.
"You are as clever as your daddy."
When she giggles again, she covers her mouth behind a chubby hand. "Daddy showed me."
"He did, huh?"
"Uh-huh. He said I'm not allowed to be a bimbo. What's a bimbo?" she asks when I nearly choke.
"It's um, it's a girl who acts..." Oh god, I have no answer for her, but luckily for me, Addie's already past it.
This child is entirely too much like her father.
"Can we finish watching The Incredibles?"
"We'll ask Daddy when you're all cleaned up, 'kay?"
"'Kay."
After dressing her in a fresh set of pajamas and somewhat drying her hair, Addie heads downstairs in search of her father while I strip her bed and clean the mess from the floor. After locating the laundry, I stuff Gooby and her bedding into the washer, turn it on and then follow the sound of her high chirpy voice to the kitchen, where she's sitting at the same counter her father not long before ravished me, eating a bowl of ramen.
"Good at holding hair back, didn't you say?" I murmur in Edward's ear after he draws me against his side.
"Holding hair back, yes. Cleaning it from the carpet, no," he clarifies, pressing his lips to the top of my head.
"How have you survived the last five years?"
"She's never thrown up in her bed before. She threw up in the car a few years ago, but I sent it to get dry cleaned."
"You've been lucky."
"I have. I owe you one." He expels a heavy breath. "If you weren't here, I'd have my head down the toilet right along with her."
Chuckling lightly, I nudge him gently in the ribs. "She's fine."
"How the hell do you tolerate it?" he asks after a moment or two of watching his daughter loudly slurp noodles.
"I'm used to it. It's very common for women in labor to throw up."
"I am aware," he replies, his voice becoming notably strained.
Pretending I don't notice, I change the subject. "She wants to watch The Incredibles again."
"I know," he says with a sigh.
"Can we?" Addie pipes up, her tone full of hope after evidently overhearing me.
"I suppose," Edward reluctantly replies.
"Yay!"
"I give her twenty," I predict, folding my arms over my chest and leaning against him.
Physically, he's worn me out, but my mind is a complete and utter mayhem. I don't remember the last time it was this bad. Not since I was a teenager at the very least.
. . .
Once we're positive Addie's stomach is behaving, we sit down to watch The Incredibles, take two. Addie squeezes herself between me and her father, and once again gives us a running commentary.
"He can run really fast, can't he, Bella?" she remarks during the scene where Dash runs around the dining table at break-neck speed.
"He can."
"He reminds me of someone," Edward adds drolly.
"They're like us, Daddy," Addie continues after a fit of giggles.
"How so?"
"You're Mr. Incredible. Bella's Elastigirl. I'm Violet, and the baby in Bella's tummy is Dash."
While Edward turns five shades paler, I'm forced to bring his daughter back down to Earth.
"Sweetie, I don't have a baby in my tummy."
"You don't?" she asks completely crestfallen. "But..."
"I really don't. Where did you get the idea that I do?" I put to her gently, tucking a semi-damp strand of her hair behind her ear.
"Today, Daddy Told Grandpa he'll marry you when I stop nagging him," she completely outs her father, "and Jessica said you get married when you have a baby in your belly."
"Only sometimes, sweetie," I say, fighting off the urge to laugh as Edward bows his head and rubs laboriously at his brow.
"You want to watch this, or talk all the way through it?" he demands a moment later, his voice almost comically stiff.
"Daddy..." she complains as if he's the child an she's the parent, and the instant I meet Edward's gaze I break into laughter.
His expression is an amalgamation of alarm and mortification.
"You okay, Daddy?" I reach over Addie and grab his hand.
He laughs once and without a shred of humor. "You've asked me that already."
"Daddy?" Addie begins, turning to face him and pulling herself on her knees—and almost taking out the Cullen family jewels in the process. "Bella said you saw her bra," she whispers in his ear, loud enough for me to hear, only to descend into giggles again.
Edward's eyes meet mine over his daughter's blonde head, wide and slightly cynical.
"She wanted to know why I wasn't wearing any shirt—because I spilled my coffee over it," I say, raising my eyebrows pointedly.
"Ah..." he acknowledges, turning back to his daughter. "I didn't see her bra because I wasn't looking. Now no more talking or I'm turning this off." He motions to the movie with a slight tilt of his head.
Sighing in over exaggeration, Addie maneuvers herself back between me and her father and continues with her commentary.
Until she falls quiet.
I notice first, holding my finger to my lips when Edward glances down at her a moment later.
"I haven't put clean sheets on her bed," I say, keeping the tone of my voice deliberately hushed.
"I'll do it. You've done so much already."
. . .
It's just after ten when we tuck Addie into bed for the second time, and after tip-toeing out of her room and closing the door behind us, Edward takes both my hands in his and walks me backward against the wall.
"Didn't look, huh?" I tease him as he breaks into a not-so-conspicuous smirk.
Without a word he bends down and kisses me, before pinning my hands above my head. "Go get some sleep," he says softly against my brow. "I still have work to do. I'll join you soon."
"Everything okay?" I ask, noting the frown lightly knot in the middle of his forehead.
"Rose is coming to the office tomorrow. She wants to talk," he mutters bitterly in explanation. "She can talk all she wants, but she's still out, and I'll still be slapping her with a defamation suit."
"Good, and if she doesn't go quietly, tell her I'll sue her for assault as well."
He pauses for a moment, gauging me closely. "You sure?"
"Positive. It got back to Alice and Jay on their honeymoon, and after that... Fuck her," I mumble, feeling my expression darken.
"I'd rather not," he says lightly, "but I heard. Bella...?"
"Hmm?" I mumble, my thoughts already beyond the both of us.
Releasing one of my hands, he wipes a stray strand of hair behind my ear, and I realize it's to draw my attention back to him. "You're not okay, sweetheart." His frown this time is open.
"I'm fi—I'm just tired," I quickly amend. "Mind if I use that ginormous shower of yours, first?"
He breaks into a tender smile, his breath shooting through his nose like it often does just before he speaks my name. "Of course, I don't mind."
"Well, let me go then, Daddy." I'm deliberately coy. "And don't be too long."
While I enjoy the scent of him all over his sheets, I prefer that warm body of his close to me.
. . .
By four a.m., Edward still hasn't come to bed, and I'm still wide awake. I'm so restless I can barely lie still, I can't shut my mind off for the life of me, and a sense of despair is beginning to set in like it so often does in the darkest hours before dawn.
Another half an hour passes before I finally hear movement from below. Edward creeps into the room a few moments later, making every effort not to disturb me as he strips off his clothes to his underwear and crawls into bed.
Reaching out, he wraps his arms around me, and before he can pull me to him, I curl myself against his chest.
"Sorry I woke you, sweetheart," he says, sounding as tired as I feel, as he plants his lips warmly to my hairline.
"You didn't. I can't sleep," I admit, my hitched, broken voice giving away the fact I've been crying.
"Hey..." Concern immediately floods his voice, and pulling me upright beside him, he leans over to switch on the bedside lamp.
I'm almost blinded, and as my eyes adjust to the sudden light, the first thing I see is that intense gaze of his boring into mine behind his open frown.
"Bella..." His breath gushes from him.
Shaking my head, I hastily wipe my face dry. "It's just...so frustrating when it gets like this."
"I promised to take care of it for you," he says, speaking more or less to himself as he brings his hand to my face, his thumb running gently over my lips.
"It's f—"
"No, it isn't," he corrects me before I can get those two words out.
"Edward!" I burst, but I'm more frustrated at myself than I am at him. I know how to combat this brain of mine. I've known for more than two decades. I let it get to this point knowing it was starting to get on top of me. "Just..." But, I'm so scrambled I'm barely coherent, and closing my eyes, fresh tears slip silently beneath my lashes.
"Don't cry, baby," he murmurs against my ear, pulling me to my knees and tightly against him.
"I'm s-sorry," I stammer, allowing my head to flop against his naked shoulder as I attempt, and fail, to get a hold of myself.
"What can I do?" he whispers huskily, and placing both palms flat to the sides of my face, he draws me back to look into my eyes.
Shaking my head again, I grab his forearms and tug his hands free from me. "I-I'm exhausted, but my mind is wide awake."
Sitting on his knees, he hoists me into a straddle over him. "I don't want you to move at all, okay? Lie completely still."
"Huh...?" I ask vacantly, and in the next instant, I'm flat on my back with him between my legs, tearing my underwear from them.
"Edwar—"
He kisses me, effectively cutting me off, before he drags his nose, his lips—what feels like his entire face—lower; down my throat, between my breasts, over my stomach. Kissing, tasting, biting on his way back up again.
Alice always told me sex is more often than not therapy, but I've never experienced it; not until this very moment.
He goes slowly, the entire length of him over mine and moving into me with carefully-measured movements, it's near maddening, but to have my mind focusing on him and only him is so incredibly peaceful I'm able to separate myself and let completely go.
My body instinctively reacts to him, my hands raise to grab fistfuls of his hair, or wrap around him, but each time he removes them, until he anchors both my arms above us against the crumpled sheets with a single hand clamped around my wrists. Any movement I make he immediately absorbs, and that includes any sound I make; any words I speak. His lips, parted, hot and supple against mine, trace a path from my shoulders, neck, face and then back again, taking me down with him body, soul and one very overactive mind.
Physically I'm so beyond exhausted I feel like I could throw up the contents of my stomach like his daughter did earlier, but as I'm riding the peaks with him in such quick succession, my thoughts begin to stray from this gorgeous man on top of me and dissolve.
Running centers my mind on the long stretch of road before me, but sex with Edward centers it not only on him, but the energy he draws from me. The same energy that, when stationary, puts my mind into such a hyperbolic mess.
I stop counting at three. That's how many times he's made me come, until I'm no longer sure I'm even lucid anymore, but as I freefall back against him one last time behind my failing breath, and completely silent mind, sleep suddenly feels effortless for the first time in my life.
His body stops, but he continues to kiss me, pressing his lips to mine, again and again until he moves them to my forehead and turns to the side, taking me with him.
We're at the foot of his bed, I realize, but that's as far as my cognitive ability extends.
"Better?" he utters breathlessly, his chest continuing to heave against mine.
"Better..." I repeat in barely a whisper, but the instant that one word passes my lips, sleep takes hold of me.
. . .
"Sweetheart..." Edward's voice, echoed and sounding miles away, interrupts my dreams.
Groaning, I push my face further against the plush bedding that smells of him as the feel of a hot pair of lips plants tenderly to the nape of my neck.
"Bella..."
"What...time...is it?" I utter out croakily as I reluctantly squint my eyes open against the brightness of daylight.
"Almost midday."
"What!?" I blurt, pulling myself up instantly in his hopelessly chaotic bed. I'm completely naked, and with the sound of Addie's voice nearby, I quickly draw the sheet to cover myself.
Edward's smiling down at me, dressed for work in a black three-piece suit, blue shirt and red tie, his hair neatly combed, and for a moment I can only stare at the complete and utter beauty of him. "I'm going in late today," he explains quickly kissing my lips. "I brought you coffee."
"Why'd you let me sleep so late?" I ask, beginning to feel disoriented as he sets down the mug on the side-table and disappears behind the bathroom door.
"You needed it," he says over the sound of running water. "You've got ten minutes, gorgeous."
"Bella, are you dressed?" Addie's high-pitched voice choruses from the other side of the door.
"Almost, sweetie," I call out, coming close to falling out of bed in my haste to get myself in order.
"Daddy said I'm not allowed to wake you up," she continues. "Are you awake now?"
"I am. Give me a moment, 'kay?"
"'Kay."
Five minutes later I'm somewhat dressed, albeit disheveled, and grabbing my toiletries purse from my overnight bag, I follow Edward into the bathroom.
He's brushing his teeth, flashing me a warm smile behind his toothbrush, and making me feel somewhat disjointed. I'm completely drunk from sleep and the number of times he ravished me in the early hours this morning.
"You're doing that to me again—soon," I insist, biting down on my bottom lip from the memory alone before squeezing toothpaste onto my for-sleeping-at-Edward's-house toothbrush.
"Deal," he replies, continuing to grin to himself as he splashes cologne on his neck and tightens his tie.
"Did I take my pill?" I ask blankly, staring into the empty, foiled shell.
"You did, and then promptly fell back asleep."
"Bella, can I come in!" Addie calls.
With a sigh, Edward walks back into the bedroom and opens the door for her. She attaches herself to my leg a moment later.
"You slept a long time, Bella."
"I did," I agree, running my fingers through her long hair. Probably too long, and it tends to have the same effect on my mind as sleep deprivation.
I really need to push myself today. Seven miles at least.
"Daddy, I don't want to go to Grandma's," Addie complains, jutting out her bottom lip when her father comes back into the bathroom.
"I don't exactly want to take you there, myself," he mutters to himself, too quietly for his daughter's ears.
"I can take her," I offer.
"Can I stay with you, Bella!?" Addie completely misconstrues it, her voice rising by several decibels.
"If your Daddy doesn't mind."
"Sweetheart," he says behind a heavy breath. "I can't—"
"This again? I offered."
"Are you sure?" He's not sold by any stretch, and his frown is threatening to return.
"Positive."
"I probably won't be back until after eight."
"That's fine—it really is," I interject before he can bring those two words to my attention.
Breaking into a broad grin, he smothers his laughter silently beneath his breath. "Fine," he teases me anyway, before curving his hand around my neck and pressing his lips to my temple. "We'd better make a move."
. . .
Edward escorts me and Addie to my apartment, and after kissing his daughter in farewell and making her promise she won't talk my ear off, he stands before me in the doorway, his frown a prominent feature on his handsome face.
"What is it?" I brave, because his mood is most definitely the reason behind it this time.
"If you need me, you need to tell me. I don't want to see you like you were last night ever again," he says, and he's one hundred percent serious.
"Okay," I agree, reaching up to straighten his tie.
He often tugs on it as a subconscious mannerism when his own thoughts are drifting, I realize.
"Promise me." He's persistent.
"I promise."
"Good," he replies satisfied, before bending down to plant his lips to mine.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I immediately return it, not wanting to let him go, while behind us, Addie giggles.
"You're going to make me late, woman," he speaks gruffly against my ear.
"Well, get going."
Kissing my brow one last time, he turns and makes his way back down the stairs, and while I really want to lean against the frame of the door and watch him, I don't.
"Okay, Missy Moops," I turn to Addie, "how would you like to go running with me?"
She gasps, her eyes widening to the size of saucers that anyone would think I offered to take her to Disney Land. "Really?"
"Really, really." I made sure her father packed her sneakers and appropriate running gear before we left. "Hop up here and I'll braid your hair." Motioning to one of my dining chairs, I scoop her up and place her on the table.
Two Dutch braids later, Addie follows me to my bedroom where I dress into my active gear. She's practically bouncing, and almost trips down the stairs, taking me with her, in her haste to make it onto the street to begin.
I show her how to warm up, and she watches me carefully before following.
"Okay, we're going to take it nice and easy, and when you're tired, you have to tell me, and we'll walk for a while, 'kay?"
With a sunny smile, she nods her head with enthusiasm. "Okay."
"Take my hand," I hold it out to her, and when she grabs it, we start off in a very slow jog.
Addie lasts a full minute before we slow to a walk, but not a minute later she wants to run again. That's how we manage it, stopping and starting along a shorter route than I usually take, and by the time we approach the Dutch Colonial, she's so exhausted I'm forced to piggyback her the rest of the way. I continue to run regardless; I need it as much as she does.
Mrs. Cullen is in the front garden as we pass, pruning her roses, a wide-brimmed straw hat on her head.
"Hi...grand...ma," Addie greets her breathlessly.
"Goodness, what have you two been up to?" she straightens herself up and asks, flashing me a very sheepish smile in the process.
"Bella took...me...running," Addie explains, slumping further against my back.
"I can see that. Bella dear," she turns her attention to me, "I have your mail. Would you like to come inside?"
I hesitate for a moment before conceding and nodding my head, but I'd really rather not, right now. "Sure."
Stepping forward to open the gate, Mrs. Cullen ushers the both of us toward the front door. After easing Addie to her feet, I take her hand and follow close behind, concealing my groan from the both of them.
"Your father told me you were staying with Bella today. I hope you're behaving, sweetheart," she puts to Addie with a warm smile.
"Uh...huh," Addie barely articulates, gripping my hand tighter as if she fears I might leave her with her grandmother.
After digging out a juice box from her refrigerator, Mrs. Cullen directs her into the family room where she turns on the Disney channel.
"Don't forget to take me with you, Bella," Addie practically whimpers from the sofa, her cheeks bright pink, and whisps of her blonde hair plastered to her forehead in sweat.
"Of course, I won't forget, sweetie," I reassure her. "We have to watch Moana soon, remember?"
With her smile tugging wide, she turns back to the TV and takes a rather noisy sip of her juice.
"She looks like she could sleep for a week," Esme notes, flashing me a very uncertain smile as she makes her way into the kitchen, placing a palm to my shoulder as she does. "Take a seat, Bella, dear."
She makes coffee this time—I have a horrible suspicion Edward told her I don't actually like tea—and after placing two mugs on the breakfast table, she takes the seat opposite me.
"Edward's still so very angry at me—not that I can blame him at all. He must see my actions as a betrayal," she tells the coffee she has warming in her hands before taking a small sip.
"Well, he—"
"Bella, I'm not sure whether he'll be happy knowing what I'm about to tell you, but will you let me explain?" she cuts me off, her expression beseeching.
I nod once, but I don't like the idea of being put in such a difficult situation.
"Edward didn't even call me this morning to say Addie wasn't coming. He texted me. I messaged him back to tell him I was planning on talking to you. He replied, informing me that you already know about his late wife, but that was all. Are you comfortable enough for me to proceed?"
"Go ahead," I say quietly.
"Katherine..." she begins when I immediately interject.
"Katherine?"
Adalyn Katherine Cullen—Addie told me her full name the day we met. Addie's middle name... Why the hell was Addie given her name?
"Are you quite alright, dear?"
"I—y-yes. I'm sorry. Please continue," I stammer, struggling to pull my thoughts back.
"She, Katherine, made a point of getting close to me while she and Edward had only just started dating. I'd known her for years prior—she was the daughter of one of Carlisle's close colleagues." She gauges me, and when I nod, indicating that I'm already aware of it, she continues, "She was older than Edward, and I never believed they were quite right for each other. She was a wayward girl—very wayward, and Edward was always a quiet, serious boy. Very sensitive. Anyway, we did eventually become close. I thought of her as a daughter, but what I failed to realize was she was manipulating me no differently than she was Edward."
I nod again, almost completely unaware of the fact that I'm sitting on the edge of my seat.
"It was probably around two years before Addie"—she clears her throat abruptly—"that I started to notice the bruises on her face and arms. She never openly admitted it was Edward, but everything she said, pointed to him. There were also several times I personally witnessed Edward..." Her eyes nervously flit away from me to Addie, slumped to the sofa half-conscious. She starts over, "I personally witnessed Edward put his hands on her."
"What?" I utter, barely able to find my voice.
"It was all orchestrated, Bella. She created these charades where she goaded Edward into reacting to her, making sure I would see. But to see your son grab a woman and push her into a wall... I..." She breaks, needing a moment to compose herself, while it's everything I can do to pull my thoughts back to the present moment.
This is not news to me. Edward told me all this himself, but I still feel the need to come to his defense. To grab his mother and shake her.
"Of course, it was never anything more than that, but this was a woman presenting with bruises—a pregnant woman—and... His father and I eventually had an intervention with him, and at that point we could see Edward had become a shell of the man he once was. He was devoid of all emotion, and very frank. He said if he didn't leave her, he'd kill her, and that was it. He walked out of the house. Several months later, he presented us with recordings, mostly audio, but video as well, and the way she spoke to him, the way she—Carlisle calls it gaslighting. It was such a dreadful shock. I felt like an utter fool. I could not understand how anyone could be so calculated, so cruel. The things she was emotionally blackmailing him with. The baby... I had no idea this woman was so mentally damaged, so..." she doesn't elaborate. Instead, she bows her head to her outstretched hand and expels a wavering breath.
"He won't get angry, Mrs. Cullen. He's already told me all of this," I feel the need to reassure her.
Raising, her head, she flashes me a grateful smile. "I shouldn't have been so surprised. Women like her aren't exactly uncommon in our social standing. Some of the wives of Carlisle's colleagues... Well, anyway. When Rose told us her version of events from the wedding, it all came back, all the same feelings of confusion and denial, and I'm afraid, I reacted the same way I did when I accused my dear son of abusing his pregnant wife." Bursting into tears, Mrs. Cullen clumsily pulls herself to her feet and hurries from the room.
"Is grandma alright, Bella?" Addie's little voice pipes up from the family room.
"She's fine, sweetie," I promise her as Esme returns, a handkerchief covering half her face.
"I'm so sorry, dear," she apologizes, taking her seat with a shaking hand.
"It's fine. I-I mean, it's—"
"Pardon me?"
"Never mind," I murmur.
"Edward emailed his father with the contract Rose signed this morning, and all the evidence proving his innocence. He should never have... Bella?" She sets her gaze squarely on me in a way that takes me slightly aback.
"Yes?"
"I want you to know how happy I am that you and Edward are together. I was hoping when you became so close with Addie this might happen. I'm sorry if I ever pushed you into anything you weren't ready for. You were so cautious, but after getting to know you over the last year or so, I knew you were the kind of woman that would be good for him. Unfortunately, Edward had become completely indifferent to the opposite sex, that I... He's completely come back to life since he's met you. He smiles again. For so long he didn't. He was so..."
Watching Mrs. Cullen become choked again pushes me completely over the edge, and somewhere amidst trying to pull myself together so I don't alarm Addie, I end up in her arms. Or maybe she ends up in mine.
"I've failed him as a mother," she sobs into her lace handkerchief.
"You haven't!" I attest as my voice hitches in the back of my throat. "It was such... extraordinary circumstances. Have you seen a therapist?"
"I have, yes. We encouraged Edward to as well, but the baby was already born and he was so busy with her. He talks to you about this?" she asks, her eyes meeting mine, wide with hope.
"He does, but he doesn't like to talk about her in general."
"I know. Even thinking about her must be horrific for him." Sighing heavily, she dabs the corners of her eyes. "And now Rosalie. Emmet is just as blinded by her."
"She's going to leave Edward's firm, isn't she?"
"Carlisle seems to think the contract Edward made up is water tight. She's a stupid, stupid, foolish girl," she snaps bitterly, her expression darkening uncharacteristically. "She knows of the circumstances surrounding Katherine, and how Edward is now. He will never be mistreated by another woman again, so I don't know what kind of game she's playing." Shaking herself from it, she throws me a jaded smile. "You haven't touched your coffee, dear."
"I'm sorry—Mrs. Cullen, can I ask you a question without—"
"Please call me Esme, and of course you can."
Taking my seat, I wait for Mrs. Cullen to follows suit. "Addie has her name..."
Nodding in evident understanding, she reaches across the table and takes my hand. "It was Katherine's parents. They see Addie once a month or so, but I know Edward absolutely detests it. When Addie starts school, he's going to put a stop to it. Anyway, they wanted Addie to be named after her. Edward wouldn't hear of it, but to appease them, he put it down as her middle name on her birth certificate. He changed it again when Addie was six months old. Addie's real middle name is Mary, after Edward's aunt, but Addie's grandparents tell her otherwise. Every time she visits. It's a horribly strained relationship. They, of course, believe Edward is completely at fault for the problems in their marriage."
"Oh my god," I say, expelling a wearied breath, realizing the first time Edward stayed over at my apartment, Addie called from their house.
Edward reacted so stiffly. It all makes sense.
"Edward despises Katherine so much," Esme continues, lowering the tone of her voice and leaning subtly closer to me, "when he takes Addie to her mother's grave on her birthday, it's not her grave they lay flowers on. It's his aunt's. Unfortunately, Addie's learning to read..."
"Oh," is all I can say. I have absolutely no other words.
"He's up in arms over what to tell her, and when."
"He is." I nod. That, I'm well aware of.
"Grandma, who are you talking about?" Addie asks curiously, pulling herself onto my lap and taking my hand in both of hers.
I didn't even notice her approaching.
"Your great aunt, darling."
"Bella, can we watch Moana now?" she turns to me, having zero interest in her grandmother's admission.
"Sure we can," I say, as relief floods her face.
This child fully expects me to leave her here. I'm certain of it, and I'm about to rectify it.
"Let me get your mail, dear." Mrs. Cullen leaves the room, as Addie tugs me from the chair to my feet.
"Okay, Miss Impatient," I tease her. "I'm coming."
She breaks into a cheeky smile, but the poor thing is completely exhausted.
Mrs. Cullen kisses my cheek in farewell at the front door, and propping Addie on my hip, I make my way back to my apartment block, as caught up in my thoughts as I was the day before.
"Grandma's upset that Daddy's angry at her, isn't she?" Addie asks, and she's as perceptive as her father.
"A little bit, sweetie, but it'll be okay."
"But Grandma's happy that you make Daddy breathe, Bella," she changes course innocently.
"I'm sorry?" I ask, almost tripping over my own feet.
"Daddy told Grandma that you make him breathe, and Grandma said she was happy," she reiterates, wrapping her arms tighter around me as I hoist her higher in mine.
"She was, huh?" I reply, failing to hold off my grin.
I was positive Esme disapproved of me, when all along she was rooting for me to get together with her son.
How the hell did I miss so much?
A/N: Thank you for reading. Yay or nay?