I'm so so sorry - really I am! I had no intention of leaving you all on a cliffie! I had planned on updating earlier but then life happened and I wasn't able to find the time! Forgive me :)
The good news: I'm five chapters ahead of you all so updates will be frequent!
The bad news: (Not really bad news?) I like to have a new chapter written before I post, so let's hope I can stay on this pace! (So far, so good!)
Thank you all for the love. I'm loving this just as much as you! I have a vague idea where I'm going with this story, but each chapter I let these characters lead me. It's been very refreshing to see where they take me!
"I told you I don't want your help," Victoria grunts once she has opened the door for Edward. She doesn't look at him, keeping her eyes on the floor and then closing them again once she has flopped back down onto her mattress. The bed creaks beneath her weight, though Edward notices it has significantly lessened since the last time he saw her all those months ago.
It isn't the only thing that has changed.
Her hair, once flaming red – a few shades more vibrant than his – now lies in a dull heap at the top of her head, knotted curls slipping out of the tie. It rests against a gray and dirtied pillowcase, but Edward can tell she doesn't even notice.
Or if she does, she doesn't care.
He watches her for a few minutes, cursing under his breath about his life and her life and how they wound up here tonight. Being around Victoria always leaves him lost in confusion. "Are you working again? For Marcus?"
She doesn't open her eyes but sighs. His mere presence makes her blood boil. "I needed money for the baby," she says, giving him all the answers he needs to hear and nothing else.
He exhales sharply, his anger getting the better of him. He slams his fist against the wall and watches her eyes shoot open in alarm. "Victoria, I told you –"
"Yes, brother, you did tell me I can have your money. But do you remember me telling you I don't want it?"
She hasn't wanted a dime of his money from opening The Lost Key, resentful of the time he spent chasing his dream instead of providing for their family. They remember the same events in their pasts, but they remember them differently; as if wearing two completely different lenses.
"It's not about you anymore, Victoria. You may not want my money, but your baby needs it."
She scoffs and rises from her place on her bed. When she walks closer to where he stands, he can't help but notice the sway of her body. Now that she's working for Marcus again, the unsteadiness on her feet alarms him. She readies herself by the time she stands in front of him with her finger pointed in anger. "My baby is doing fine without your money," she spits back. "And like I told Rosie, I'm working again. I pay for her to be looked after. Taken care of."
Edward's frustration softens at the mention of his niece. He swallows thickly. "It's a girl?"
With a deep sigh, Victoria sinks into a chair in the corner of the poorly lit room. "She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Edward doesn't rush his sister to say anything else; he has seen firsthand the hardships a mother may go through with her children. And while he understands, he has never found the right words to say to bring comfort, so he remains silent until she is ready to speak again. "Which is why leaving her was the best thing I could have done for her. We're no good for her, Edward."
"No." He shakes his head and steps closer to where she sits in the corner. He raises a shaking finger at her. "You're wrong, and you always have been."
"What else am I supposed to do? I can't raise her here, and I can't stay where you sent me since no one wants to hire a woman with a baby."
"I have no enemies here."
"So you think, brother."
He breathes sharply through his nose, fighting the urge to argue with his younger sister like they did when they were kids. She has always had the power to bring out the worst in him. "So this is it? This is your plan? To work for fucking Marcus Volturi as his favorite whore? Have your daughter know you only by what comes to her in the mail?"
Victoria shakes her head, ignoring all of his questions. "Why did you come here tonight, Edward?"
He pauses, defeat washing over his body. Suddenly his body realizes how late it has become, and he begins to feel it everywhere in his body. "I had to see for myself that you're okay. I won't break my promise to Mother about looking out for you."
He sees her nostrils flare from across the room. Her voice is even when she speaks next. "Well, now you see. I'm fine." She stands abruptly, walking over to the door and opening it for him. "Now leave so I can get back to work."
He wonders when there will be a day when he can leave her without his heart breaking.
—--tlk—--
By the time he makes it to The Lost Key, the rain has covered the city in cold puddles and wet floors. He is the only one walking the streets, and unlike others, Edward relishes the thought of being alone. For a brief period of time, he doesn't have to worry about anyone else; being alone is the only time he can let his guard down. The pub was set to close an hour ago, but he sees a light inside as he approaches. Annoyed for what must be the hundredth time tonight, he pushes the door open and doesn't bother to worry himself about the wet mess he brings inside.
"I'm sorry! We're closed!" He hears Isabella's voice shout from behind the bar as he shuts the door behind him in frustration.
"This door should be locked," Edward tells her as he turns to slide the deadbolts into place. "The minute the last guest leaves, you close the door and lock it. Understood?"
She watches the way his eyes focus on hers, the intensity behind them tonight almost tangible. She nods and accepts the blame. "Yes, I'm sorry. I didn't plan on staying this long, and I guess Emmett left it open for me to follow."
"Where is Emmett now?"
"He left not too long ago. I was on my way out but decided to wait a little longer for the rain to stop."
Edward says nothing, sighing in exhaustion as he takes his hat off and runs his fingers through his wet hair. He drops his hat onto an empty table and pulls the chair back against the protesting floors. "This rain isn't stopping any time soon."
The man sitting at the table doesn't look like the Edward Cullen she's come to know. This one looks like a shell of that man. A man lost inside his head.
She knows exactly what that feels like.
Instead of leaving like she had planned, she reaches for two glasses and a bottle of his favorite. "You can tell?" She asks, walking over to the table and placing the drinks in front of him. She pours the liquid into the glasses as he turns his gaze up to her. She looks down at him, her eyes never leaving his. "How?"
If it were any other night, he would avoid her eyes and focus on something else entirely, but tonight he holds their gaze steady.
"It's heavy. Slow. Not in any rush."
"Oh," Isabella replies, understanding what it is he is trying to say. "James would always be able to tell if a storm was coming. He'd go outside in the morning and tell Mama he couldn't do the chores outside."
"And she believed him?"
"Never," Isabella laughs, taking a healthy sip of her drink. She places her glass down on the table. "But I would be too scared of getting stuck in the storm, so I'd make him do mine for me."
"That seems like something a sister would do," Edward says, and for the first time, she thinks she sees a small smile lift one corner of his mouth. She isn't sure what catches her more off guard; his smile or how beautiful he looks when he's vulnerable.
"Do you have one?" She asks once she can focus again. "A sister?"
He sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. "Some days, it feels like it."
He gives her one last look and downs the rest of his drink. "Come on, Isabella. Let me walk you home like Emmett should have."
This was one of my favorite chapters, and not just because we've uncovered one of Edward's mysteries.
See you soon!