DISCLAIMER: The story doesn't belong to me; the characters are property of S. Meyer, and the plot belongs to Annalau Thank you so much for letting me share your story in English!
Gracias Laura, por darme esta oportunidad!
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Chapter 10
"We're going out of the city," I comment, looking at the sign indicating that we're leaving the Chicago limits.
"Yes, we're going to Wisconsin," says Edward, very focused on the road. "We have a long three-hour drive ahead of us."
I nod without taking my eyes off the whitish landscape in the middle of the darkness.
I press my lower lip between my teeth as I hear Pat's soft snoring in the back seat. Through my peripheral vision I notice that Edward keeps his jaw tense while his big hands are still firmly on the steering wheel.
"I like your look," I finish without thinking.
I never think, I just talk on and on. Edward gives me a sidelong glance and smiles shaking his head; that little ponytail goes very well with him as does his beard, it makes him look very wild.
I rub my face.
«What's wrong with you Isabella? Control yourself!»
"I like your truck," I slide my fingers across the screen, his musical tastes aren't that bad, although I admit I have better tastes than him. "Can I change the music?"
He tilts his head and I assume it's a yes. It's all a simple tap and I play some Harry Styles music.
Golden starts to play and I hum along.
"I'll make an exception." I hear him say after a while, I turn to look at him. "I don't like my music to be changed for other music, I'm very strict about it," he gives me a wink, "but with you I'll make an exception."
I smile. My face hurts so much that I think it will split because of the huge smile on my lips.
"Guns N' Roses are classics, I like them too" I explain. "However, it never hurts to listen to new talents; for example Harry Styles."
His eyebrows are raised when he looks at me.
"I have no idea who that is."
"It's this one," I point to Harry Styles' name on the screen, "Just listen to him, he's good. I like him." I search my gallery for some pictures of Harry, I show him. "Look, he's the one who sings, he used to belong to a boyband. One Direction, do you know them?"
"It's the first time I've heard that ridiculous name," he laughs. Instead of being annoyed by his mocking my musical tastes, I laugh along with him. "I imagine your tastes in movies are similar, aren't they?"
I bite my lip. I'm debating whether to talk or not.
"Well... for now I only watch Korean series on Netflix. There's an actor I really like," I keep scrolling my finger on my cell phone screen. "He's Lee Min-ho."
Edward lets out a chuckle with more gusto as he looks at the screen.
It's the first time he laughs nonchalantly, I don't know why he doesn't do it more often. He has a melodic and quite infectious laugh.
"You should smile more often, it makes you look good," I confess.
This time I bite my tongue at the sight of his dry face. I don't understand why I can't keep quiet.
"I stopped laughing at everything a long time ago," he reveals, as he adjusts the rearview mirror with his hand, checking that his son is still asleep in the back seat. "When you are a parent many things become irrelevant, you can only focus on your child. You worry that his environment is safe, that he grows up healthy and happy. Suddenly in the blink of an eye life happened and you're still happy watching him grow up and knowing that everything you've done for him has been worth every fucking second, no matter that your life is full of bitterness and shit."
"What happened to Pat's mom? Why did she leave you your son?"
I see him shaking his head.
I don't know if I've struck a chord with him, it's understandable that he refuses to talk. Charlie still can't manage to talk about Renee without his voice breaking at the memory of her.
"I'll never understand what happened with Charlotte. We were boyfriend and girlfriend since we were fourteen and from then on we played at being adults until the pregnancy. That was the trigger for her to change so much overnight. We were very young; I can understand her panic at being a teenage mother because I was too and of course I was terrified. However, I don't understand her disinterest in our son."
"Can I confess something?" he says very quietly. "She tried many times to get rid of him."
"Even knowing her detachment from Pat, you make him live with her. What's the reason?"
He sighs noisily.
"I want my son to have as normal a life as possible. I don't want him to complain to me when he is an adult for not having given him time with his mother."
"Well, if I knew Renee didn't want to have me today I would be telling her that she should have, because I would have preferred a thousand times not to be born than to feel like a hindrance in their lives." My lower lip trembles as does my voice. "I give you a piece of advice: don't force your son to live with someone who doesn't want him. I assure you he'll never complain about his time with her. Pat realizes that his mother shows no interest in wanting to be in his life, you must let him choose."
Edward is silent. I don't know if he's pondering what I've said, I hope he is.
I curl up in my spot and close my eyes letting myself be lulled by the ride.
I wrinkle my nose as I feel something tickle my skin, I'm sleepy, cold and hungry and I need to keep sleeping.
A soft giggle makes me open my eyes: Pat has a bird feather and is sliding it across my face, his cheeks have turned pink and he is laughing at me.
"We're here, come on down. We have to help Dad."
I stretch out my arms as I yawn; in one big leap I'm with my boots buried in the snow. The landscape is beautiful and very white, it's postcard worthy.
"How can I help?" I ask.
Edward is pulling out some huge backpacks; Pat puts his on quickly, you can tell he has practice, as the boy knows what each harness is for.
"Don't even think about it" Edward takes the small backpack off my back. "This thing won't do you any good to survive a night in the intense cold. Use this one" he hands me a big and heavy backpack. "We'll walk uphill" he says, "I'm giving less weight to you."
«Less weight? This backpack weighs three times as much as I do.»
Not to look weak, I put it on my back without protesting. They have started to walk without me. These men have no chivalry in their veins, they seem to be made in the pure cave style.
"Hey!" I run after them, it's hard to do it in the snow, "wait for me!"
"We can't waste time!" shouts Pat without turning to look at me.
I exhale: the breath I blow is vaporous. It's cold, very cold.
"Men," I snort. Without wasting time I follow their steps, "they look like Neanderthals."
On the way I get distracted by some pines lined by snow, my head is held erect and my mouth open as I remember that in a movie they pull a branch, and the snow falls like drizzle producing a beautiful landscape.
My intention dies when Edward clears his throat; he waits for me without removing his wild posture. Although he's not wearing a trench coat this time, his special snow gear makes him look devilishly good. Also catching my attention is the hat he wears and hiding that ponytail that makes me question if his hair is soft or will it be like him: coarse.
I roll my eyes as I pass him. This time Edward waits for me, motioning me to walk in front of him. On several occasions he helps me by pulling my hand when my boots sink into the snowy mountains, that's how we walk on a slope. He is almost pushing me all the time so that I don't give up.
I can say that after walking and walking I can no longer feel my limbs and my face hurts from the cold.
"Dad, this is a good place," says Pat as fresh and exhilarated with energy as if an hour's walk is nothing to him.
I look everywhere; there is nothing but snow around us.
Tiredly I drop the backpack while they start setting up the tent. I'm hyperventilating from the altitude.
"What are we going to do here?" I ask when I see that the house is finished.
"We'll sleep here," answers Edward, who finishes securing the tarp with some ropes.
"Are you kidding? When night falls the temperature will drop to such an extent that our bodies won't resist, and we'll die of hypothermia."
"It's not the first time we've camped in the snow, Bella." Pat mentions proudly throwing a snowball at my legs. Let's play! Come on dad!"
I put my worries somewhere in the back of my head and start enjoying my day on the mountain. Snowball warfare is definitely the ideal game to warm up. At least I enjoy it when they land on Edward's face. Right now I can be sure he hates me for attacking him relentlessly.
"I give up!" cries Edward, dropping down on the cold whiteness. "I need a break."
It's useless to keep my eyes off him; he's not as bitter as I imagined. Still with my smile on my face I lie down beside him.
"You're pretty slow at dodging snowballs," I tease.
"You two are bullies."
"We humiliated you, admit it."
He rolls onto his side, watching me.
"Do you want to go with me to get some dry branches? I'll make a fire for the night."
I lean back on my elbows, sit down and he smiles broadly and standing up, extends his hand to me:
"Come on, miss," he asks.
I accept, taking his hand; our touch is fluffy and warm as we wear gloves. He gives Pat some directions and then we walk into the pines without letting go of each other's hands.
It's impossible to let go of my memories as slowed down images invade my mind; my mouth on him... Embarrassed, I let go, putting distance.
He looks at my refusal to continue holding his hand, but says nothing.
"Are you still thinking about leaving town?"
His question makes me look at him. He crouches down gathering some branches without raising his head.
"Yes. I've made up my mind."
"Why?"
"I have no reason to stay."
"I could help you."
"You've helped me a lot. That's enough."
"In case Carlisle comes near you again, could you tell me? No matter what time it is, speak to me at once," he begs, standing up.
"I don't think he will. He thinks we're dating," I mutter.
He nods.
Our conversation flows as it becomes insubstantial as we both gather branches.
When we return to the tent Edward manages to light a fire which we quickly surround drinking hot chocolate. Pat makes a few jokes and retreats inside the tent leaving us alone in deep silence.
"I can tell you are comfortable in this place," I explain. "You look different, more peaceful."
His intense gaze is on me, I avert my eyes from him. Every time he looks at me that way it makes me feel strange... nervous.
"I am a solitary being. I'd rather be surrounded by nature than by fake people who claim to love me."
"Oh..." I ponder. "I guess I've been lonely all my life and I was feeling like I was in company."
"You mean your dad?" he asks. Seeing my discomfort, he moves to my side and gives my arm a light squeeze. "I didn't mean to overhear your conversation with him."
I bite my lip. I'm avoiding talking about more; I don't know him, and I don't want to involve more people in my life. Jessica and Tyler are enough for me.
"Trust me. I can hear you without saying anything."
Our arms are very close, brushing between the thick fabrics of our coats. The blanket around my shoulders falls and he settles it over us. I watch him for a few seconds, and he keeps looking at me waiting for an answer.
"I am the product of a teenage pregnancy." I end up revealing. "My parents got married believing it was the only solution to my waiting. It didn't work out. I was seven years old when Charlie discovered Renée with his best friend and from then on my ordeal began. Never in my life do I remember seeing my father so destroyed as he was that night," my tears are spilling over without any reparation. "I swear I didn't understand. I swear I didn't understand why Harry was at home all the time, nor did I understand why he locked himself in the room with my mother. I was very innocent, because maybe if I had spoken..."
I sob.
His arm around me, pulling me close to him, still rubbing my coat.
"You're not to blame for anything," he whispers over my head.
"You should have seen Dad, he was devastated," I continue sobbing, his humiliation etched in my mind.
"You think that's why you deserve his neglect," he cradles my face, his eyes undecipherable. "Don't justify his abandonment because of some cheating."
"My dad is good."
"I don't doubt that he is, but in this life it's not enough to be good. You have to prove it."
"Charlie has had a hard time getting over and trusting again. Now he has rebuilt his life and is working hard to take care of his new family. He's betting on his happiness."
"What about you?" He asks. "Where do you stand?"
"I..." I close my eyelids at the sight of his face so close to mine."
"If I ever fall in love…" he whispers and his breath hits my face, "I'd rather shoot myself than hurt my son."
I open my eyes... his mouth is so close to mine.
As promised, here's the second chapter. So, Bella and Edward are confiding in each other. And honestly, Bella putting Harry Styles and explaining his story reminds me of me because I've done it too. Leave me your opinions, let me know what you think of the story, the chapter, and the characters, I'm all ears. We are still missing two more chapters of our main characters on their weekend with Pat, so don't leave me alone.
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THANK YOU FOR READING!