CHAPTER 18

So take my pockets, take me whole

Take my life and take my soul

Wrap me in a wedding ring

You know I swear I'd give you anything

~ Halsey, Ya'aburnee

BPOV

I had worked myself to my breaking point enough times to recognize the signs that I was nearly there again. The few hours I allotted myself to sleep were often restless, even though I was always exhausted by the time my head hit the pillow. Food tasted like sand in my mouth whenever I managed to force some into my system. Songs that I adored when I wrote and recorded them sounded like shit when I got the final master back. Scenes I loved when shooting looked horrible to me when I saw early edits.

I needed a break that I didn't have time to take. More than a few hours of restless sleep or a rushed dinner before I passed out on my plate.

I felt his eyes on me throughout the whole Sunday family dinner and I knew he saw all the signs, too. Probably long before I did.

Edward reached over and grabbed my free hand, the one that wasn't shoving lasagna around in a circle on my plate with my fork, and pressed a tender kiss to my knuckles.

It was a fraction of a second of peace before Claire and Kate barged in.

"We have a problem," Claire said quickly, eying the way the jovial conversion amongst my family fizzled out.

I sighed, dropping my fork. "Is the problem that you're hungry and so you both came over for a relaxing dinner with me and my family?"

Claire looked at me like I had lost my mind. Kate gave me sad, pale blue eyes.

"No," Claire scoffed. "The problem is TicketGeek is now saying they can't handle the demand for your ticket sales."

Ticket sales. For the twelve shows I had booked at the nearly-finished new stadium here in Chicago going through my past work and then the subsequent tour for the documentary album. All of which I haven't even started rehearsing for.

Excellent conversation to spike my anxiety and help me get less sleep tonight than usual.

"Did they think we were joking when we asked them half a dozen times three months ago if they could handle the demand?" I grunted, not bothering to get up from my seat.

Claire and Kate took a few empty seats down the table from me. Both happily took a bite of lasagna when Alice and Rosalie scooped them each a plate.

"The stadium is pissed. TicketGeek has been causing all kinds of problems these days, and now they're not using them for any other events either. They have a decent system in place, we'll just have to space out sales to make sure nothing crashes. There is still the problem of the demand, though."

"In my experience, demand has always been a good thing. Makes a lot of people a lot of money," I grumbled, angrily cutting up a stray green bean into tiny pieces on my plate.

"It becomes a problem when you're doing twelve stadium shows and there's enough demand to fill a few hundred stadiums."

"What the fuck am I supposed to do then, Claire? I haven't started a single rehearsal, I'm four days behind schedule for folklore, and the stage has been delayed in production half a dozen times. I'm doing the best I fucking can," I snapped.

She didn't deserve it. None of it was her fault. It was mine, because I never was great at moderation. I couldn't just do a regular tour or album or film. I had to do all of it all at once within a few months like a goddamn idiot.

"This seems like a very bad time to tell you they want you to do a month-long residency at the stadium," Kate murmured.

"Horrible fucking time," Edward said with a frown. It barely drowned out the hushed gasps and musings from the family that sat around the table.

With my elbows braced on the table my head fell to my hands. My nails dug into my scalp, barely resisting the urge to pull at my hair hard enough to rip it out. I squeezed my eyes shut and took three deep lungfuls of air.

"Book the month," I said slowly. "Void the contract we had with TicketGeek for the rest of the tour. If any of the stadiums have a problem with it, find new ones." I took another deep breath as I stood slowly from the table. "I'm sorry for snapping at you."

I retreated to the kitchen. It was the closest place where I could close the door and not have a dozen pairs of eyes on me. The first tear slid down my cheek as soon as I was out of eyesight.

The door didn't stay closed for long. I heard it swing open and shut again but didn't need to look to know who it would be.

Strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me against his chest. A comforting motion that only made the tears come faster and made my throat close up as I fought against a sob.

Edward said nothing. He stood in the middle of the kitchen with his arms wrapped securely against me and let me use his chest to muffle the sounds of my crying so I didn't ruin the nice family dinner everybody but me had been enjoying.

I was stressed and spread too thin across a dozen different projects I had going at once. It was my own doing, but it also wasn't. And that was the main reason I had let myself fall into such a sour mood.

Because, usually, when my job started feeling more like a job and less like fun I called Lawrence. He knew the industry inside and out, always had a plethora of stories of his own, and was always there to help me refocus myself when it got to be too much.

I had never had great luck with father figures, but he had been the closest thing to one I had. It still left me feeling like I had a knife sticking into my spine whenever I thought too hard about why I was doing what I was doing.

Despite popular opinion, I wasn't a cold-hearted bitch. I had a feeling or two. And they were currently shattered beyond recognition.

I managed to pull myself together enough to take an unsteady breath and mumble an apology against his chest.

"You don't have to apologize."

"I…I still can't believe he's doing this," I whispered, my throat tightening up again. "Making me do this."

Edward's fingers brushed through my hair before cupping my cheek and angling my face up toward him. "I know. I'm sorry."

I didn't hand out my trust easily. Had stopped giving it freely to people at around eighteen. Lawrence was one of very few people outside of my family who had earned it. Coming to terms with the fact that the man who was always the first to call me to congratulate me on anything was the same one currently using every traumatic experience I had ever had against me was excruciating.

–Love|Power–

"You don't have to go, Bella."

He told me the same thing every year. And every year I had to remind him that I was not going to give a single police officer or detective or member of the Chicago social scene the satisfaction of saying I had been scared off.

The annual Chicago Police Department benefit was always conflicting for me. I loved it, because it reminded me of meeting my husband. Usually Edward spent the evening whispering dirty things in my ear to distract me and I enjoyed every minute of it. It was also, however, the bane of my existence because every single person besides the dozen at our table constantly sent glares my way. Always whispered as they walked past.

You end up on trial for murder once and nobody lets you live it down.

"Will you zip me up?" I asked, wandering out of our closet to where Edward was straightening his tie in our bedroom.

He hummed to himself as I turned my back to him and took his time slowly–reluctantly–sliding the zipper up my back. His fingers traced along the very visible Cullen family crest that was inked between my shoulderblades.

Typically, especially to events like this, I tried to remember to cover it up. I was whispered about enough, I didn't need the glaring confession of murder inked into my skin to start the conversation.

I didn't really give a fuck about it tonight, though. Purposely chose a simple blood-red dress that was cut low enough on my back to show it and twisted my hair up in a knot to keep it out of the way, too.

The entire evening was a big fuck you to the police department.

We were invited, as we always were, because they wanted money. They expected generous checks from every Cullen family. They did not expect to be served with papers for the hefty lawsuit Edward had decided to throw at them.

It was the only reason I was going. It would be better than any academy award winning film, watching the faces of the officers and higher ups at the department realize how utterly fucked they were.

Once my dress was secure Edward wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, pulling me deliciously close to his chest.

"I'm going to thoroughly enjoy unzipping that later," he whispered, his lips brushing against my neck.

My own lips twitched with a smile. The dirty talk was starting early this year.

Edward's hand squeezed mine as we walked into the lavish ballroom. It was probably paid for with what was left of our own donations last year.

They would not be getting a check from any member of the Cullen family this year.

I shook my head as a waiter walked by with a tray full of champagne. Edward did the same, though I knew it was because he wanted something stronger and not because he had a call time of four in the morning like me.

Our table was on the outskirts of the room, as usual. And as usual, as Edward and I took our seats there were glares sent our way from just about every direction.

"Ah, Bella, Edward," Embry Call's slimy voice said as he approached our empty table. He took a seat across from Edward and I.

Edward squeezed my thigh underneath the table and I knew it was as much to comfort me as to remind me that this was why he hated being early or on time to things.

I liked being punctual.

Neither Edward nor I said a word to him.

He smiled, leering over at us as more of the family showed up and took their seats around us. Emmett's hand landed on Call's shoulder from behind him. "I believe that's my seat, counselor."

"Apologies," he chuckled, standing up and holding the chair out for Emmett. "Just catching up. I do miss our time together, Bella. We had such pleasant chats."

I saw Edward go rigid. Because the chats he was referring to were the days on end he kept me on the witness stand taunting me with my husbands supposed death.

"You know," I sighed. "I've never met someone so hellbent on constantly reminding people how he failed horribly at his job."

Call froze, the sneer immediately falling from his face only to be replaced with a gaping look of shock as he processed what I said. I heard a few gasps from Rosalie and Alice, and a louder one from Adeline as she sat down at just the right time to hear me.

Emmett chuckled. I saw Jasper shake his head in my periphery.

Call's voice was cold and gruff. Saturated with a few decades of hate and failure. "Did you just admit to murdering Aro Volturi?"

I gave him a pleasant smile. "I never denied it. He broke into my home and assaulted me."

"Did you–" he snapped. "Did you just admit to planning the murder of Aro Volturi?"

My smile grew teasing, taunting. "Of course not," I told him, taking a quick sip of whatever amber liquid had been placed in front of Edward.

"Jesus," he grunted. "You cold-hearted bi–"

"Say one word about my wife, Call, and you won't make it home to yours. Or to any of your many mistresses."

Emmett's jovial laughter boomed through the ballroom, following Call as he retreated in a daze. Chatter broke out amongst the table, but I ignored it. My patience was thinner than usual these days. I took one final sip of Edward's drink before placing it back on the table in front of him.

His fingers were firm underneath my chin, his lips immediately on mine in a quick, hard kiss. "I fucking love you," he breathed out when he pulled away.

I leaned forward for one more quick kiss before sitting back in my chair. The evening was as boring as ever until my eyes caught the more casually dressed man as he entered the room. I nudged Edward's calf with my own.

He sat back in his chair, crystal glass to his lips as he watched the captain of the precinct that couldn't seem to keep away from me take the papers from the man. His jaw went slack, his eyes wide.

Call had been conveniently sitting beside the man and turned in his chair to stare at Edward in shock.

I didn't have it in me to pretend to be sympathetic.

Edward leaned over and pressed a kiss to my temple. "Stay here, please."

I sighed, but let him go. I did enjoy watching him walk away, appreciating the confidence that dripped off of him with every step. That is until an all too familiar head of graying-blonde hair caught my eye.

I froze, watching him mingle with a smile. Looking utterly relaxed. Jovial. He was tearing me apart from the inside with a grin on his face while he did it.

Aiden saw where my attention was locked, his hand wrapping around my bicep as I stood.

"Ma, I don't think that's a good idea."

"I just need to talk to him."

"Mom…"

I knew I was in for a lecture when he called me Mom instead of Ma.

I pressed my palm to his cheek, appreciating for a moment the handsome face that he got from his father, even if it came with that same overprotectiveness his father had, too. "I'm fine. I promise. I'm just going to talk to him, it'll be fine."

Even as I said the words, I knew it was a lie. One way or another, it would not be fine. But it needed to be done.

Aiden hesitantly dropped my arm and I crossed the room before he could change his mind. I felt the presence of three hulking men following me but ignored it until I stood in front of Lawrence. They had a whole table, the lot of them. Lawrence and Colton and Duncan, their wives and collaborators. The whole team was out for a fun night of tormenting me.

You did not get a table at these things unless you promised a hefty donation, or had donated in the past.

The knife in my spine twisted.

Lawrence smiled as he saw my approach. He stood from his spot and walked off to the side of his table, waiting.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, hating how unstable my voice sounded.

He didn't have to stop and think about his answer. "Because I can."

"No," I snapped. His reasons were much more trivial than that. "You're doing it because you're a petty, insecure little man who can't handle the fact that while you might have plucked me off of the street, I outgrew you by the time I was eighteen. I have a career and a legacy worth something on my own. You are only anything now because of me."

I didn't see it coming. Never would have thought it a possibility. But I felt the sharp sting in my cheek at the same moment I heard the skin of his palm slap against it. His fingers dug into my chin, immediately hard enough to bruise as he forced my head up to glare down at me.

He opened his mouth to sneer something at me, but was quickly pushed away by one of the men always on my tail.

My ears started ringing, but I was fairly certain I had won the fight against the sting of tears in my eyes.

A muttering of curses got through the ringing. "Shit, shit, shit. Are you okay? Ma?"

I focused on Aiden, now hovering over me. I was pretty sure I nodded.

He let out an exasperated sigh. "Some conversation, huh?"

Before I could say anything, I watched a large hand fall on Aiden's shoulder. Aiden sighed again, scooting over as Edward took his place in front of me. Gentle fingers lifted my chin, softly angling my face to the left to get a better look at the portion of my face that was still angrily stinging.

He said nothing. For a good sixty seconds he stood there and stared at my face before turning toward Aiden. "Take her home, please."

Aiden nodded. Edward shrugged out of his suit coat and draped it over my shoulders.

I hadn't realized I had started to shiver.

The drive home was quiet. I didn't even remember getting in the car. Or leaving the ballroom.

My cheek still burned.

Aiden sat me down in the living room. He sat on the coffee table opposite of me, wearing the same stern frown his father often wore.

I pulled Edward's coat tighter around my shoulders, if only to take a deep breath of his scent.

"I don't know if I ever really understood the… gravity of what you do before now," Aiden said softly. Speaking slowly, like he was choosing his words carefully. "I just thought… I thought you wrote songs and made movies because you enjoy it."

"I do," I croaked out.

"I know. But you also do it because you have to. Because people have been talking shit about you since you were sixteen and you needed a way to talk back. It's–it's easy to forget sometimes that those things that happened in your movies actually happened to you. Especially because you never let anyone see how much it still gets to you. Except Dad."

He let out a frustrated sigh. "I don't know what I'm trying to say exactly. Just that… I see it. How hard you work. How good you are at it, how much time and effort and strength it takes to do what you're doing. I see it. And I hope that one day I might be as strong as you are, that one day Ella sees it as is as strong as you."

"I don't know if it's strength as much as stubbornness," I murmured, deflecting. Because the last thing I needed was to burst into tears.

Aiden's smile tilted to the left. "A good mixture of both, I think."

He made me an ice pack and stood over me until I left it on my cheek for a full half hour. I managed to convince him that I was fine–mostly–and he didn't need to babysit me. He left begrudgingly after that.

I washed my face as soon as he was gone, pleased to see there were no bruises yet. A few broken blood vessels on my cheek, but that was it. I was distracted enough with my own reflection that I couldn't be sure how long Edward had been standing behind me.

He was frozen, solid stone as he leaned against the wall behind me. His arms were crossed stiffly across his chest. I could see the tendons in his arms tense with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

His voice was flat. "Are you okay?"

I nodded.

He didn't look convinced.

"I am. I…" It was hard to put into words. Because the moment Lawrence struck me was the moment I was able to let go of the man I thought he was and focus on me. On why I needed to do what I was doing. Why I had done it since I was sixteen.

"I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this," I told him, my throat tightening. "I hosted parties and starved my body for this. I did it. Not him. Lawrence is very obviously not the man I once thought he was, and after tonight I can finally let that man go. And not care about destroying him in the process of saving myself."

Edward lost a tiny fraction of the tension he was holding in his body, taking a few steps across the ensuite to brace himself against the counter behind me. His forehead rested gently against mine, his palm coming up and brushing feather-light against my cheek.

He winced half a second after I did.

"I'm sorry you're hurt," he said tensely, and I knew he was blaming himself.

"It's okay. I can finally let him go. And not care about what I have to do to him in the process."

A/N: The little bit at the end (I gave my blood sweat and tears for this, and I hosted parties and starved my body for this) was obviously inspired by You're On Your Own, Kid by Taylor Swift.

Friendly reminder that I'm nominated for a few TwiFicFandom Awards and Round 2 voting is open until 3.12 if ya feel like it :)

As always, thanks for sticking with me and these two. I hope you're still enjoying the journey!