Thanks, as always, for your patience.
The next morning, before she even opens her eyes, Isabella's first thought is to wonder if it had all been a dream. In all her years, she has never felt like this. One time back in Forks, she thought one of the boys in town was rather good-looking, but that was it. Nothing had come of it for several reasons, and it never bothered her that it had ended before anything began.
She isn't the same person she was back then.
Now, hours after Edward brought her back to Rosalie's, her lips still tingle from when he had kissed her last. She can still feel his chest pressed against hers, how his arms wrapped around her had made her feel wanted for the first time in her life, and how her need for him made her never want to let him go. He had awakened a part of her that she never knew to be real; she had read of it in books and seen it at the pictures, but she thought it was exaggerated and overdone.
That is, until now.
Now she not only believes in the power of desire but also welcomes it. She loves how her body responds to him, even now when she is alone and thinking of him. Stretching her arms above her head, with her eyes still closed, she feels the smile spreading on her face and cannot stop it. She hopes she will be able to go about her day as if nothing has changed; she doesn't want to draw more attention to herself than necessary.
That lasts all of an hour.
"Good luck, sweetheart," Rosalie tells her later that morning in the small yard behind the house. They are taking advantage of the sun and plan to spend the morning hours washing their clothes in the basin and hanging their clothes on the line to dry before work starts for both of them. "Edward Cullen steady with a girl? It's never been seen before."
"It's for Marcus," Isabella says, rinsing one of her favorite dresses in the soapy water. "To keep him away."
Rosalie laughs and places a hand on her hips. "I've seen Edward at the house more in the last few months than I've seen him in the years he's been in the city." She points at Isabella. "He's here for one reason only. You."
That tingle in her lower stomach appears again, which seems to activate a flush against her skin. She giggles at herself. "Am I stupid for feeling this way?" Isabella asks out loud, feeling silly for sharing her thoughts and feelings about what happened last night with Edward. She sighs in defeat as she looks over at Rosalie. "I know I still have a lot to learn around here, and maybe I trust people I shouldn't, but I can't deny how I feel."
She thinks back to the beginning days of her arrival here in Port Angeles and how she was instructed not to ask any questions; that knowing less would be better for her.
It's funny how differently things have fallen into place.
"We're all stupid," Rosalie says, sitting down on a small, rusted stool. She brings a cigarette to her mouth and shrugs her shoulders. She thinks for a moment before answering, and soon enough, a slight look of approval appears on her face. "But Edward's a good man to be stupid with."
"I didn't come to Port Angeles to meet a man," Isabella says. Rosalie nods. "I came here to find out about James and —"
"You found yourself instead."
Frozen at her words, Isabella eventually smiles at the realization. "Do you think that's what has happened?"
Rosalie laughs. "What do I know?"
"A lot more than I do," Isabella replies with a laugh as well.
They leave it at that for now, finishing the laundry and hanging it on the line with ease. As they head inside, Rosalie places a hand on Isabella's shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen. "Even if you never find out what happened to your brother, you'll leave here with a new piece of yourself that all women must find at some point in their lives. Some find it early, others later. But the point is that you discover something while you're here, so it's not all for nothing." She smiles. "Don't you think your brother would want that for you?"
"I think he would," Isabella answers. "He wanted to explore a life outside of Forks, and unfortunately, it ended differently for him than he thought it would. But the James I remember would never hold any regrets in his heart about coming here, and neither will I."
Rosalie gives Isabella a light squeeze on her shoulder, leading them inside towards the kitchen. They stop when they enter and notice Edward waiting quietly at the table. Isabella's heart leaps into her throat at the sight of him, unprepared to see him before work.
With a laugh, Rosalie opens the door to the refrigerator, looking over her shoulder at Isabella. "So, I guess you should enjoy your time here in Port Angeles then, right?"
Edward looks up from the paper at the sound of her voice, his eyes looking around the room until they land on Isabella leaning against the kitchen door. Unlike the persona he plays, he gives her a shy smile before rising and walking to her.
"Absolutely," Isabella answers Rosalie with a laugh before Edward leads her out the front door.
——-TLK——-
By the time Isabella and Edward make their way through the city, the sun has disappeared beneath light clouds, but the air remains pleasant. Unlike the walk they shared near the docks months before, today they walk without a destination in mind. They stroll comfortably, not in a rush to be anywhere. Edward takes his time to point out places in the city Isabella had overlooked, only making her appreciate the little hidden nuances of Port Angeles even more. Times like these make her forget how dangerous and dark the city can be.
And also the man she's with.
She listens as Edward spends a few minutes engaging in polite conversation with one of the grocers near the docks. While they prattle on about the fresh fish that had arrived earlier today, Isabella watches his face as he talks and tries to see in him the stone-faced man she met the day she arrived. Right now, at this moment, it's hard to believe he is the same person. He knows everyone by name, and in turn, everyone knows him and welcomes him in stride. His voice is just as deep as it was that day in his pub, but perhaps now that she knows the man beneath the voice, she detects a softness to it that makes her feel safe. At first, she felt his simple responses were signs of disinterest, but now she sees it as his way of keeping close to the point of the conversation, as if no moment between Edward and anyone he comes across is wasteful.
As if every moment counts.
Even if he never speaks of it again, she knows meeting with Marcus last night in the pub was not for nothing. He keeps his head held low when he can, hoping to diminish the evidence of the altercation with Marcus' men. If anyone dares look at it, they know better than to bring it up.
All except for Isabella.
"Does it hurt?" She asks, pausing their stroll to lean against the railing separating the land from the sea. Edward stops as well, turning back, so he faces her. He places his arm to rest near her on the railing. Beneath them, the water ripples softly against the dock from the anchored boats. He looks at Isabella briefly before turning his gaze to the water.
"I've had worse." Edward replies, "Like I said last night. It's just a scratch."
"Because of me," Isabella reiterates. She sighs, crossing her arms across her chest. She feels disappointment in herself before Edward can stop her, and he shakes his head.
"Because of Marcus," Edward corrects her. "It's one thing for him to conduct his business on his terms. It's another thing when he demands non-negotiable things."
Their eyes now meet as they stand in front of each other, the tone of his voice reminding her of what set off this chain of events in the first place. She offers him a grateful smile before her eyes drop to the side of his face.
"It looks better," Isabella notices, reaching to press soft fingers against the roughened skin beneath his eye where a small cut can be seen. He winces slightly at her touch, turning his head to the side where she can see black and purple dotting his cheek. She drops her hand at the sudden movement just as Edward clears his throat and nods in greeting to an acquaintance passing along the dock. Isabella realizes she has overstepped. "Sorry."
"Let them look all they want," Edward replies. "It'll get back to Marcus."
Realization settles in the depths of her stomach, and she nods slowly in understanding. She can see his visit has a purpose slightly different from what she had hoped. "So you need people to see us together. That's why we're here."
She thinks about the distance they walked together to get here from Rosalie's. While not exactly far, she most definitely didn't mind. She wonders what it must have looked like to others, her almost floating on air, while Edward remains as calculating as he always has been.
Once again, her naivety and foolishness are never hard to find.
She breaks their stare and turns her head; she never feels as small as she does when she is next to the sea.
And now, when she stands next to Edward Cullen.
He watches her eyes cloud over. Watches as she takes a small and subtle step away from him, crossing her arms across her chest again. He sees and feels the moment she turns back to the woman he met that first day at The Lost Key.
The one whose heart had been broken.
He sees that side of her again and feels that foreign squeeze of his heart once more. Everything about this is new to him. Even before he went to war, he had never felt like this. He never had the time. Their mother had died, and Edward had no choice but to grow up overnight. He was too busy trying to find work and keep a roof over his and Victoria's heads to think about women and dating.
A moment too late, he realizes that Isabella has misunderstood him once again. His dismissal of her hand was not because of her touch — God, he fucking craved more of it, but he didn't want to waste their time together fussing over a minor scratch. Unable and unwilling to stop himself, he cups her chin with his hand and turns her face to his. He holds her gaze again, this time making sure she understands why he has brought her here.
"We're here because I wanted to see you again, Isabella. We're here because I couldn't wait any longer, and just the idea of waiting until your shift tonight to see you was incomprehensible." His hand drops to hers, and he presses both of hers against his chest before covering them with his. He feels her relief as she steps closer. "People seeing us together and reporting back to Marcus is just a bonus."
Isabella sighs as she lets her head fall against his chest. The breeze off the water soothes her aching body; she is on fire whenever she is close to him like this. He smells of tobacco, vanilla, and cedar, and it overwhelms her in ways that make her want more. "I'm not sure I know what I'm doing," she confesses, stepping back slightly to look up at him.
The smile he gives is one he unknowingly saves just for her. "When it comes to you," Edward says, pausing as he looks around the dock, "I also know absolutely nothing."
And he then kisses her for everyone to see.
——-TLK——-
What he told her by the docks that afternoon wasn't entirely true.
There are quite a few things he is absolutely sure of.
While the bruise and scratch on Edward's face fade with time, his feelings for Isabella do the opposite. While he has always spent most of his days and nights at the pub, he finds himself there for every one of her shifts instead of letting Emmett handle the front-of-the-house business while he handles the back-of-the-house business. He tries to tell himself it's mostly to make sure she's safe and Marcus and his men stay far away from The Lost Key, but it's mostly because he can't stand to be away from her.
She draws him in like a parched man eyeing a river in a steaming desert, leaving him practically salivating as he watches her behind the bar. He nearly stops breathing every time his lips find her skin once the pub finally closes each night, her little gasps in his ear when he touches her drive him insane with want. He becomes blind with rage at the thought of other men wanting her just as much as he does.
He lies in bed at night and wonders if he is doing the right thing. Is he keeping her safe enough? Is Marcus only biding his time? He dreads the day his nightmare of Marcus finding his way to Isabella comes true.
One morning, after a particular dream had rattled him awake in fear, Edward barges into Victoria's room at Rosalie's, not caring she had probably fallen asleep not long before. She flies up in bed, her eyes squinting at the sudden intrusion. Realizing it's only Edward, she rolls back over and covers herself with the single raggedy blanket she owns.
Anger misplaced, Edward reaches and pulls the blanket off her, throwing it onto the floor in a heap. One look into his eyes, and Victoria can see the boy she grew up with. The one who kept his fear in his eyes but not in his voice. Like she predicted, his voice was calm, but she could see how scared he was; his green eyes pierce her frozen against the rising dawn behind him.
"I know there's more you're not telling us," Edward states.
Victoria recognizes the look on his face. She knows it all too well; she wore it herself not too long ago.
It's the face of someone terrified to lose the person they love.
"Please, Victoria. Tell me."
Thank you for reading while I stumble through some writer's block!