Moment of Truth.
Thanks to everyone -- okay I'll stop talking. I know you don't want me to keep you!
It's not often Edward is rendered speechless, but at this moment, no words come easily to his mind. His hands are splayed on the top of the bar; his arms are outstretched as his head hangs low. The news from Victoria – bombshell is more like it – hangs in the air and tries to settle into his mind. But it cannot. It simply doesn't make any sense.
Rosalie is the first to attempt to try to untangle the mess Victoria has found herself in once again; her eyes closed as a questionable look crosses her features. "Victoria?"
Rosalie doesn't say much at first; she's just as shocked as everyone else.
"I don't know where to begin," Victoria stammers, shaking her head as the memories begin to bury her where she stands, everything coming everywhere all at once.
"At the beginning," Isabella says softly. "Please. I need to know all of it. Everything."
With a shaky breath, Victoria pauses to give herself a moment to sort through her time with James, trying her best to push aside the time they never got to have. "I met James at work one night," she says. "He hadn't been here long, but I had seen him a few times here at the pub. He was…." she pauses as she thinks of the first night they met. "Different."
From the booth, a sob escapes Isabella, but she muffles it quickly with her hands. With her eyes closed tightly, she nods to Victoria to continue.
"I didn't expect anything else from him that first night," she says quietly. "At the most, maybe I thought he would become one of my regulars, and for the first time in all my years of working for Marcus, I was fine with that. I found someone I wanted to see again."
Edward looks back and forth between Isabella and Victoria, unsure where he is needed more. Rosalie has Isabella in her arms in the booth, her hands smoothing calming circles on her back as they listen to Victoria finally reveal the secrets that have plagued her and Isabella for the last year. Victoria stands in the middle of them all, her arms wrapped around herself as if they're the only thing holding her together. He has seen her look like this before, and suddenly she's not the woman standing before him but, instead, she is the little girl who just learned their mother had died. Just like that day all those years ago, Edward steps toward her in hopes his proximity can reassure her, but she holds a hand out to stop him in his tracks.
He briefly wonders if she'll always keep him at a distance.
"We were going to leave the city," Victoria says. "We didn't know where exactly we were going to go, but it didn't really matter as long as we had each other. And the baby."
"Did he know?" Edward asks, his voice deep as he stares at the floor.
"That the baby was his?" Victoria asks. "Yes. I had stopped working for Marcus almost immediately after I met James, so there was never any doubt about whose baby it could have been."
"And Marcus didn't care too much for James taking you from his business, I'm guessing," Emmett adds with a shake of his head.
"So it was Marcus who killed James." Isabella's voice holds a different pain now, one that's filled with anger as well as anguish.
No confirmation is needed.
"We weren't going to be here long," Victoria whispers, motioning to the pub around her. "We only came here because I wanted to tell you in person I was leaving; that we were going to get married and raise our child somewhere safe outside of the city and away from Marcus. I know you would have been happy to know I was leaving here for good."
Edward's jaw tightens as he realizes how close his sister was to finally finding the freedom she had always wanted. But he swallows thickly and then clears his throat. "He followed you."
Victoria nods. "We never got the chance to tell you because Marcus killed him before we had the chance to open the door." She wipes the silent tear that escapes her eye quickly and shakes her head, reminding her to keep focused. "Marcus knew I'd be back. He may not have known how or when, but he knew what he did wouldn't be something I would ever be able to recover from. He knew he killed me that night just like he did James."
"What did you do next?" Rosalie asks softly.
"I held him until I knew he was gone," Victoria's voice cracks as she remembers his face staring up at her in the rain. She remembers his strong grip fading into the air around them as she cried, begged, him to stay with her. "He didn't let go of my hand until the end."
"The police never saw you?" Emmett questions.
Victoria shakes her head, not bothering to wipe the fresh tears from her face. "I left when I heard them coming," she choked out. "I panicked. I know how many police Marcus has on his payroll, and I didn't want to find out how far he would go to push any blame off himself for what he did. Especially since I was now alone and pregnant and no one, besides James and me, knew."
"That's why the investigation was never done properly," Isabella sniffles, her red, puffy eyes shifting to Victoria before landing on Edward. "Did you know?"
"No," Edward says strongly, and Isabella can see the truth in his eyes. "I always suspected it was Marcus for obvious reasons, but I never knew for sure."
"It wouldn't have done any good for us to search, either. The fact that a man was killed in front of our pub was an added bonus that put more of the focus on us than on him." Emmett spits angrily, rising from the booth to walk off a new round of frustration.
While Emmett paces, Isabella sighs and lets her head fall against the back of the booth; her eyes close as she allows it all to sink in.
This was what she wanted, right? All this time, she had been waiting for answers or clues to fall into her lap, and when they finally did, she became frozen between what happened then and what is happening now.
She feels the impact of his death all over again; her fractured heart shattering into pieces once more. The truth doesn't bring him back — she never expected it to — but it also doesn't give her the peace she thought it would.
But, she thinks to herself as she pictures him lying outside on the cobblestone sidewalk in front of the pub; at least he wasn't alone. And he died knowing he had created a life outside his own with someone he loved.
Isabella knows her brother loved Victoria. And hearing how he had vowed to save her from the life she no longer wanted, doesn't come as a surprise to her, either. But what makes her sick to her stomach is knowing how close he came to avoiding that fateful moment in front of the pub that night. She taps Rosalie quickly on her shoulder and hurries out of the booth just as fast.
"I need a minute," Isabella manages to say as her throat closes off the panic rising from her chest, only to find it robs her of her breath. Walking as fast as she can, she makes her way to the door and pulls it open, her chest heaving as it shuts behind her.
"You heard her," Rosalie warns Edward as he moves to follow Isabella. "She needs time."
Besides the large inhale he takes into his lungs, Edward freezes. His eyes never leave the door Isabella had just walked out of, and it goes against his primitive nature to stay here instead of following her. Protecting her. He grunts his displeasure and frustration, closing his eyes to prevent himself from losing it in the middle of his pub.
He doesn't see Rosalie envelope Victoria into her arms, gently sliding them into the same booth Isabella had been sitting in a few moments before. He only opens his eyes a minute later when he hears the familiar shuffle of Emmett's feet behind him.
"Go," Emmett says quietly, handing him Isabella's belongings she had left behind. "I got them."
Edward looks over at the booth, at his sister, who had kept this trauma to herself for far too long, and then back at Emmett. Since returning from the war, he has become one of his most trusted men and nods in confidence at Emmett's ability to make sure his sister is all right.
Grabbing his jacket and Isabella's belongings from Emmett, he slips it over his shoulders as he storms to the door.
"Isabella!"
He calls her name blindly into the night, the rain cold and hard as he looks up and down the street for any sight of her. Cursing to himself, he heads in the direction of Rosalie's, praying she has changed her mind about walking alone and has turned back to The Lost Key. Normally, one of his men would have been here to make sure Isabella never wandered off alone, but Edward had told him to take off for the night after the pub had closed since Edward was planning on staying with Isabella himself.
"Isabella!" Edward calls again, his voice muffled by the heaviness of the rain pounding against the roofs and sidewalks surrounding him. Just as he is about to break into a full-blown panic, he catches sight of a single figure beneath a street lamp a few blocks ahead. Relief washing over his body, he picks up his pace into a run, calling her name once more as he approaches.
"Please come back, Isabella," Edward breathes once he has caught up to her. "It's not safe."
"Will I ever be safe in this city?" Isabella asks over the rain.
"You will be," Edward replies, and she hears the promise in his voice again. "But only if you come with me."
Hesitating slightly, she eventually nods and lets him pull her against his chest, and for a brief moment, the sadness and devastation of the night leave her body. However fleeting, she welcomes it. Chases it.
"I don't want to go home," she says as he lets her go, and they begin walking back to the pub. He wraps an arm around her again as she starts to cry quietly against him.
Shaking his head, Edward stops them beneath a weathered awning. It allows them a small respite from the downpour. Now, with their feet deep in puddles and heartbreak, Isabella's eyes meet his, and she sees in them his promise to protect her from it all.
"I'm not letting you go tonight, Isabella." He leans down and presses his lips to hers. And even though it's freezing outside and she can't stop shivering from the wet and cold, his kiss warms her from the outside in. When they pull apart, Edward places his forehead against hers, their breath mingling in the gentle gray haze of winter. "You're coming home with me."
When I started this story, I knew I wouldn't create a mystery that would be hard for you lovely readers to solve. That is why I stepped out of my comfort zone and wrote this story in third person. We know all.
And now the characters do, too.
See you soon!