All my thanks to all of you! Let's clear up some of Isabella's confusion, shall we? :)
There aren't many patrons left in the pub, but the voices of the other guests become muffled, as if she has stuck her head underwater while they are speaking around her. Isabella closes her eyes and pretends she has done exactly that, except in her vision, she opens her mouth and screams as loud as she can, imaginary bubbles floating from her lips as she lets it all out.
How utterly naive of her to think she was the only woman he talks to like that.
Her mother's words of how she doesn't belong here in the city screech in her mind like brakes on a wet road.
Isabella can feel the embarrassment spread over her skin, visibly mocking her weak moment regarding her feelings for Edward.
Because she recognizes Victoria, she remembers what she is and what she does with the men who visit Rosalie's place.
Before opening her eyes again, Isabella sends a quick prayer that she won't hear Edward and Victoria when she inevitably takes him back to her room.
She falters for only a moment before carrying on with her duties, cleaning, stocking, and cashing out the guests until the early hours of the morning. Edward and Victoria haven't left the booth since he spotted her what feels like hours ago; the two of them with their heads and voices low as the celebration dims to the final hour.
"If you haven't proven yourself yet, you definitely have tonight," Emmett says as he stands beside her behind the bar. The two survey the floor, replaying the night's excitement in their heads. "Head on home, Isabella. Get some rest."
Her feet echo Emmett's sentiments, and she can hardly wait for the minute she can take off her shoes. Without a reason to keep her here, she nods and moves to gather her things, glancing one last time at the booth in the back before she heads to the door. She meets Edward's eye but offers nothing, instead slipping out the door and onto the empty streets. She doesn't have to work tomorrow and plans on taking advantage of it after she sleeps off tonight's celebration.
And she fervently hopes she will be asleep before Edward and Victoria find their way back to Rosalie's.
As Isabella continues her walk home, the more she replays Edward's words over in her mind. You're so beautiful it fucking hurts to look at you Isabella. She hates herself for doing this, but it continues to gnaw at her if she tries to push it away. It isn't the first time someone has told her she was beautiful.
Far from it.
But it was the first time Edward Cullen had called her beautiful, and suddenly the words she had heard so often hold new meaning. It isn't because she doesn't believe him; she could tell he was telling her the truth. It is because the words came from him – a person who prides himself on being guarded, tight-lipped, and in control.
And tonight, he was not the person he claims to be. He was a man of leisure with loose thoughts; a man who looked at her and smiled. She isn't gifted with one of Edward's smiles very often, so she vows to save the image in her mind, to remember on nights like these when she is alone while the world keeps turning around her.
Her walk ends uneventfully, the house relatively quiet given the time of night. She had treated herself with plenty of hors d'oeuvres while at The Lost Key, so she does not need to visit the kitchen, instead dragging her feet upstairs to her room. Once inside, she locks the door behind her and places her belongings on the vanity near her bed. She'll straighten everything in the morning; right now, she is too tired to do anything other than disappear into her bed. She lets her dress pool at her feet and unpins the curls of her hair as she pulls the covers back and slips inside. Too tired to change into her nightclothes, she settles for sleeping in her slip and stockings and closes her eyes. The sheets are cool against her skin, but she is too tired to let it bother her. Despite how badly she wishes them away, she tries to fall asleep to her thoughts.
Tomorrow, she'll remember her reason for coming here. She won't let deep voices, green eyes, or frowns turned into smiles distract her again. Tomorrow, she'll –
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" A voice shouts into the silence of the house. "Get up!"
Isabella shoots upright in bed immediately, her heart racing at the sudden outburst. She had been on the edge of sleep before the shouting started, and now she is wide awake.
"I am up," a responding voice answers gruffly.
Isabella listens as a struggle ensues, the walls reverberating with what sounds like pushes and shoves.
Victoria grunts against the wall outside Isabella's room. "No, you're not, Edward. You're slowly falling down the wall, and I can't carry you alone!"
Isabella hears another shove on the other side of the door, and she realizes it is Edward's body Victoria is trying to push.
"Where's Emmett?" Edward asks, sounding worse for wear.
"He's finishing up back at the pub; he's the one who sent you home."
"Am I home?"
Isabella clasps a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles.
"No," Victoria says sharply. "You couldn't make it that far. You'll have to stay in my room tonight."
"I'm not staying here," Edward tries to argue.
"The fuck you're not," Victoria replies grimly, sighing again in frustration. "Let's try this again."
Isabella listens to their struggles, contemplating getting out of bed to help them when it sounds like Victoria is having trouble moving Edward from his place in the hall.
"Are we there yet?" He mumbles a minute later.
"Edward!" Victoria is now yelling, and Isabella throws on her robe to see if she can be of any assistance. Her heart may be conflicted, but she also knows Edward would not want to be seen in this condition. The sooner Isabella can help maneuver him to Victoria's room, the better for all of them.
She walks to her door, opening it quietly only to find Edward leaning comfortably against the wall, Victoria pushing him from behind with all her might to no avail. "May I help?"
Victoria looks up at the sound of her voice, a grateful look washing over her face. "Please! This ass can't seem to remember how to move his legs." She rolls her eyes and nods her head at Isabella. "You push him from behind, and I'll guide him this way."
Isabella nods, noting how thin Victoria is compared to Edward; there is no way she would be able to get him to move on her own. She wonders how she had gotten him this far.
As she moves to where Victoria told her to go, Edward's head turns in her direction, squinting as he recognizes who he is looking at. His eyes widen when he sees her face, only to slide slowly down her body, taking in the ruby color of her robe and the peek of a beige slip beneath it as she takes her place behind him, as Victoria asked. Over his shoulder, he says in a low voice, "I thought you were told to stay in your room at night."
"I usually do, but I came out when I thought Victoria needed some help."
"Thank you, Isabella," Victoria interjects, draping one of Edward's arms over her shoulder with another grunt. "Let's get on with it."
Isabella places her hands on his back, trying to ignore those feelings she said she would put away for good. She has never touched him before, and her hands feel like they are holding flaming coils hidden beneath the surface.
She sees him shake his head before he drops his chin to his chest. "And this is how you look at night? A fucking temptation in a place like this?"
"Ignore him. It's the whisky talking," Victoria adds with a roll of her eyes. Isabella nods, and the two of them work in tandem to move Edward's deadweight body to Victoria's room. They pause to lean him against the wall while Victoria pulls out her key to unlock the door once they arrive at the end of the hall.
Using the wall for support, Edward turns his head until he finds Isabella. While she is covered by her ruby rayon robe, his eyes land on swashes of creamy, unblemished skin that make him forget who he is. He attempts to reach a hand out to her, only for it to fall heavily back to his sides. "Where's your room? I think I'll stay there tonight."
"Just give him a shove; that'll shut him up for now," Victoria says, and before Isabella can say another word, Victoria does exactly that. She moves to stand behind him, promptly placing a heeled foot into his lower back, shoving him as hard as she can into the darkened room in front of them. He lands in a heap on the floor, and she kicks his feet to the side so she can shut the door.
They listen in silence for a moment as she locks him inside, and only when a loud snore from the other side breaks the quiet do the girls break down in laughter. Victoria motions for Isabella to follow her to the kitchen; Victoria has worked most of the night and has worked up an appetite.
"Ignore my brother," Victoria says over her shoulder once they have made themselves a late-night snack. "He's not himself tonight; I'm sure you've noticed."
Isabella cannot keep the surprise off her face. "Your brother?"
Victoria sighs. "As much as I try to deny it, yes, he's my brother. A lot of people around here don't know that. And it needs to stay that way."
"I wasn't going to tell anyone," Isabella says softly.
Victoria reaches for the plate between them and nibbles on a small piece of cheese. "Edward wouldn't let you work for him if he couldn't trust you," she says, nodding towards her. Isabella wonders what Edward must have said about her. "I guess that's one good thing about my brother."
Isabella softens in her seat, her worries tossed aside now that she knows Edward's relationship with Victoria. She doesn't know their history, but judging from what she saw tonight in the booth at The Lost Key, she can't help but think of James.
"My brother was similar in that sense," Isabella says with a small smile. She looks out the window towards something Victoria isn't sure she'll see. "Trust was everything to him."
"Sounds like he would have fit in nicely here with you then," Victoria says.
"He was here. For a while, actually. But he's not anymore."
"You speak fondly of him. What was his name?"
Isabella exhales loudly, and she isn't sure if it's because she finally has the strength to talk about him or because it could put her on the path to finally finding out what really happened to her brother. She looks back at Victoria, her brother's face in her mind as she makes her first leap.
"James."
The look on Victoria's face confirms to Isabella that she has opened something meant to stay buried.
See you soon! (Are we still loving Drunk Edward? Because I am!)