Hi!
Welcome to another story.
This is a sequel to #CorrectTheNarrative so I encourage you to read it if you haven't already, otherwise this won't make sense to you.
Also, I have about 12 chapters edited and ready to post so far, and about twice as much written. The story isn't complete yet, so I'll be posting every other week to begin with to allow my betas to catch up on editing and me to catch up on writing.
A note on chapters: odd-numbered chapters are in EPOV, even-numbered ones are in BPOV.
We start with EPOV today.
Usual disclaimer applies - I don't own any of it.
Team Momo wouldn't exist without Midnight Cougar and Alice's White Rabbit with their red pens, or without AGoodWitch, Driving Edward, Mel, Maplestyle, and Eternally Addicted who pre-read and tell me if I'm off my rocker or not.
Enjoy!
Chapter 1 - EPOV
Apartment 2A. This was the place. I rang the doorbell and waited.
Bella's voice filtered from inside. "One moment please!"
I hoped she wouldn't open without checking. This building was in a good part of town, but it had no security. I worried about her living here all alone when she told me her home address. I'd never pictured this before. I'd never ventured to think what her living space might look like. It was one of the million little things about her I'd denied myself while I thought we didn't have a chance at a real relationship.
But here I was. Here we were. A week after that heartfelt, soul-baring, galvanizing talk we'd had in my mother's sunroom, I stood outside Bella's apartment to pick her up for our first date.
Some shuffling sounds came, muffled by the closed door, then the metallic clink of keys in a lock. The door opened, revealing her—my Bella.
"Hi, Edward. I promise I'm ready. One minute. Please, come in?" she blurted out in one harried breath.
I chuckled. I found her worrying at not being ready to be one more sign of her outstanding manners and concern for other people's well-being. Plus, in the office, she was always prompt, never late to a meeting or an assignment. I expected her to be no less than that in her private life.
"We're not late at all. Take your time. But here, these are for you," I answered, offering her a bouquet of wildflowers.
I'd opted for these after consulting with my mother and Emmett. My brother had also provided key information that helped me plan this date. Without his input, I'd probably have chosen some pretentious restaurant I thought would make a good impression. Em had told me to forget about stick-up-the-ass places. This was Bella—and nothing about her chimed with that notion. I'd taken the advice to heart and planned accordingly.
"Thank you for the flowers. They're lovely," she replied, taking a whiff of the bouquet.
I took that moment to let my gaze sweep over her. She'd been very particular in asking questions about our date—where we'd go, what she should wear. I sensed some anxiety on her part and tried to ease it by telling her that casual and relaxed would do. After all, I was still a nervous wreck about it myself. I prayed she wouldn't notice my fidgety hands.
She seemed to have followed my advice, to a point. She was wearing dark-washed jeans that looked almost black. They hugged her every curve while looking polished. I spied a pair of neon-green ballet flats. She never wore flats in the office, always opting for elegant heels, so this must be her compromise—no heels, but no sneakers either. She paired the dark jeans with a long-sleeved, flowy tunic in blue and green swirls. Those colors made her skin even more luminous. Her entire look made it extremely difficult for me to keep my hands to myself.
Halfway through my musings on her fashions, Bella turned, walking over to her kitchenette to find a vase and water for her flowers.
This left me to survey her living quarters as I waited. I knew she lived in a studio apartment since Emmett had mentioned it in conversation in the past. I'd not imagined it would be this small. Yet, the room before me didn't look cramped at all. A breakfast counter with seating for two separated the kitchenette from the rest of the living space. A couch and a recliner sat in front of a small entertainment center, while a desk occupied a corner of the room toward the back. Books and notes dotted its surface in haphazard stacks.
"Semester's just started, and I'm already drowning under a pile of work," she said.
She emerged from a door at the back of the room, which I presumed was the bathroom. Now she stood in front of me, the strap of her purse hiked up her shoulder, and her coat in her hands.
I took it from her and helped her into it. "It's your last one, though. Right?"
She nodded. "Yes. Pressure's on."
"I'm sure you'll do well," I replied with a sigh.
The thought of her graduating from her master's program in a few months pressed more anxiety and expectation about the future into my mind. A future I wanted to spend with her.
"Shall we, my darling?"
She smiled up at me, lacing her fingers with mine. "Let's go."
Soooo? What do we think?