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Maybe I'll see y'all Friday!
48
- half of myself without you -
Bella
"I can't believe Christmas is in less than a week," Rosalie muses as we peruse an overpriced baby boutique in Beverly Hills.
"I know," I agree, trying to muster up some surprise about time passing, but I just don't feel it.
"If you're up for it, you should come with me to Emmett's game on Christmas Day. They're playing the Rams, which is nice so we can stay in town for the holiday."
"I was kind of hoping I'd spend Christmads with Edward," I say with a somber smile. "But the game could be fun. I'll let you know."
"If you want to spend it with Edward, you should tell him," she says thoughtfully, and I just hum in agreement. Sensing my wistful mood, she changes the subject. "Have you thought about nursery themes yet?"
"Sort of, but I want to wait and see what we're having first before I really commit to anything."
Rosalie holds up a milky white tutu dress, full of tulle and sparkle. It's adorable, of course, especially when I imagine my baby in it.
"It's so sweet. How much?" I ask.
"$200."
"Put it back," I laugh.
"It's so cute though. And it's designer!"
"I don't even own designer clothes, so my baby definitely doesn't need to either. And buying a tutu before I know the gender would guarantee I will have a boy."
"Not sure that's how it works," Rosalie chuckles. "Besides, what if you have a boy who wants to wear a tutu?"
"Then he can do just that," I say honestly. "But it's not going to be one that's $200 and specifically for a newborn."
"Fair enough," Rosalie says, putting the tiny dress back.
On the shelf above the clothing rack, I spot a pair of muted pink ballet shoes. I admire them but don't touch. I also don't acknowledge the tug on my heart when I think about having a girl… or think about the conversation I had in therapy with Jane yesterday because it was challenging, and my brain and heart both need a break from the heavy.
"Maybe we could look at some furniture," Rosalie suggests. "You could buy some items that won't matter what you're having. Crib, glider, changing table. There's a store around the corner that looked like it had some good stuff."
"Maybe," I say noncommittally, walking toward a round table in the middle of the store with more basic, practical clothing. "We can look, but I don't want to buy anything yet. I still want to wait for Edward's input, too."
"I didn't want to push but… is that why you're in a funk?" she asks, her voice softer. "He still hasn't reached out?"
I shrug, my fingers caressing a sky-blue onesie and matching leggings.
Edward has been taking space since our first therapy appointment five days ago.
I get it. It stings, but I understand. I threw a lot at him in one sitting. Years and years of pain and insecurities that I kept from him and bottled up inside of me because I didn't trust he would still love me while knowing all of it; while knowing all of me.
After I'd sat back down in my own seat, Edward kept my hand in his. Angela first thanked me for being vulnerable enough to share then asked if I wanted to continue the session. I nodded because I had nothing else to hide or lose.
She then asked Edward what he was thinking and how he felt after hearing what I shared.
He was quiet for nearly a minute before speaking, and all he said was that he needed some time to think about everything.
When Angela asked him to expand, he couldn't. She guided him along, coaxing him to verbalize what was in his head. I was thankful for her gentle probing at that moment because I was desperate to know, too.
"I guess I just…" he'd paused, glancing over at me, his gaze gentle but I could feel the distance. "I need some time to reconcile the woman I thought I married with the one sitting here right now. The one you just showed me."
"In your eyes, I'm different," I mumbled. "That was what I feared the most—being viewed differently by you. Not being understood by you. It's why I kept things from you for so long, and after a while, you don't just… bring up shit from your childhood. Hey honey, pass the salt and by the way, the family dynamic I had when I was ten was the crux of why all of my anxieties started. That's not how life works."
He frowned. "Yeah, you're different. But it's not a bad thing, Bell. I guess I'm just sad. For the both of us. I don't know. It makes me feel like shit. Like you didn't trust me to know you? Understand you? And that's all I've ever fucking wanted. It also makes me feel guilty for maybe not trying harder," he said grimly. "Hearing all of that, though… I get it now, and I know why you didn't want to bring anything up. I hear you and understand you. But yeah, I just need some time, if that's okay."
His words both soothed and concerned me, but I just nodded. I guess keeping yourself from being vulnerable and not allowing yourself to open up to someone you've known and loved for eleven years can confuse them. So he deserved that time.
"Edward's reached out once, but it was just to confirm the time of my doctor's appointment that's in a few days," I tell Rosalie. "He's still going with me, so I guess that's a good sign."
"I feel so bad," Rosalie sighs. "I didn't think giving you that specific scenario to mull over before therapy would be a problem. It was just the first thing that came to mind, you know? I thought I was helping."
"Don't feel bad," I reassure her. "It was the catalyst for me opening up to him more. Without that, I don't know if I would've spilled everything to him in that first appointment or been able to tell him I want him back."
"Yeah, I get that." She smiles sadly. "But still."
An associate walks over and asks if we need help, and Rosalie tells her we're just browsing. We head over to the area with books and trinkets, and I peruse the greeting cards. I find one with a cake and candles, immediately thinking of Esme's birthday tomorrow. I think about buying the card then decide against it, knowing it won't make it in time and that I need to just call her.
After looking at a few more items, Rosalie and I make our way out of the store and leisurely walk down the street.
"Furniture?" Rosalie asks, pointing up ahead, sliding her sunglasses over her eyes.
"We can look, but I can't buy any furniture until I clear out my second bedroom. There's a computer desk and a dresser that I can't move by myself."
"You know Edward would be there in a heartbeat to help you if you asked him."
"I know," I murmur. "But he also asked for space and I want to give that to him. I don't want to bother him with this stuff right now. Because it also opens up a whole other conversation. Are we calling off the divorce? Where's he going to live? Are we going to have two nurseries? Is he going to eventually move in with me… or if he buys a place, will I move in with him? Do I even want us to stay in the house I'm currently in when it was the place I ran to when I abandoned him?" I list off, uncertainty building in my chest. "What about our house in Seattle? It's been vacant since November 30th. Are we going to sell it? There's no real reason to keep it since we're both living and working in LA, but…" I trail off, leaving all my questions unanswered.
"Damn," Rosalie breathes out. "That's a lot of unknown."
"I know."
"I wish I could help."
I shake my head. "You do enough for me. It's okay."
"Maybe I can help in a small way, though? Since Em is home for the next week, he can move whatever furniture you want out of that room. He has some time in a few days. Maybe distracting yourself with decorating will be good."
"No way," I tell her, and we pause by a shop to look in the window. "I refuse to be the reason why Emmett accidentally pulls something just days before his game and can't play. My conscience couldn't take that, and the Broncos need this win."
"Oh, they do, huh? What do you know about the Broncos?" she challenges with a knowing laugh, but I just fight a smile. "Sounds like you've been watching SportsCenter."
"Guilty," I sigh. "I have a crush on your co-anchor who just happens to be my husband. Awkward, right?"
"You poor thing." Rosalie laughs softly and we start walking again. "I'm serious about that offer, though. Emmett would be happy to help move that stuff for you. And if he doesn't want to for some reason, which I highly doubt, I'd be happy to force him to," she says with a smirk.
"I don't know," I mumble, and even behind her shades, she gives me a look that lets me know I have no choice. "What would I do without you? Seriously. I don't even know where my head would be right now if you and I hadn't become friends. I'd be so lost."
"What would I do without you?" she asks in return. "The couple of girlfriends I do have are in their child-free eras. They don't want kids, so I can't do stuff like this with them or talk about baby stuff. And… I know that telling them that Em and I are gonna try again for a baby after the new year won't mean as much to them."
"What?" I blurt, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and scanning her face. She slides her sunglasses onto her head and smiles, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Really?"
"Yeah. I'll have had three periods by then, so the doctor said it was okay to try again. In the past, I've been too scared and have waited as long as six months. But it didn't matter, you know? I'm still scared, but I'm ready, and I honestly think that's because I have you in my life now. It's not as daunting knowing I'll have you to lean on."
I hug her, squeezing tight. "Of course, I'll be here for you. No matter what happens."
"I appreciate it," she says as we break apart. "I know it's sappy, but you're the first true friend I've made in LA and we moved here like, seven years ago."
"You're the first real friend I think I've ever had, so I have you beat."
"Well, damn, it's not a competition to see which one of us has been starved of friendship for the longest," she says and we both laugh.
We walk another block, pausing when we reach the furniture store.
She looks at me. "No pressure. We can just look, but I can tell Emmett to pencil you into his schedule between napping and purposely driving me crazy."
I crack a smile. "Ohhh, I see. This is more about me helping you, huh? Getting Em out of your hair and giving him something to do?"
She laughs but doesn't deny it. "Guilty."
"Well, okay. If you don't think he would mind, I'd appreciate the help moving that furniture. On one condition," I add. "As a thank you, I'll make y'all dinner afterward."
"Umm, sold. Food is the best motivator for my man," Rosalie says with a smirk. "Well, that. And me putting out."
XXX
The next day after coffee, breakfast, and a self pep-talk, I decide to call Esme.
I sit in Edward's chair for courage, the leather enveloping me with the comfort I crave.
With the phone to my ear, I'm so nervous that I almost end the call the second it begins ringing.
But I don't.
I remind myself this is a necessary step. One that I've selfishly put off for a long time because that was easier than owning up to my mistakes.
But regardless of whatever happens with Edward and me, I need to do this.
The line rings and rings before going to voicemail, and my nerves are replaced by disappointment, proving that deep down I do want to make this call.
I hang up, not wanting to leave a message because there are so many other things I need to say to her other than happy birthday and thank you. And all of those things need to be said to her, not her voicemail.
I'm about to get up and go shower for the day when Esme's name appears on my screen, calling me back.
Heart in my throat, I answer.
"Esme? Hey. Hi."
"Hi, sweetie," she says, and the kindness in that simple term of endearment makes me want to cry.
I'm reminded of how easily she accepted me into her family.
How loved she always made me feel.
How she felt like more of a mother figure to me than my own mom.
How, on my wedding day to her only son, she gave me sapphire earrings that had been in her family for more than ten decades and had been passed down from her grandmother to her mother, then to Esme on her wedding day to Carlisle.
"Something old, new to you, and blue," she said as she fondly watched me fasten them. "But not borrowed. These are all yours now."
Mine.
A family heirloom.
I remember my eyes shifting to Renee to make sure she hadn't caught the tender moment, then to Allie, wondering why she hadn't received them on her wedding day just nine months prior to mine.
"Esme, thank you. But I shouldn't," I told her. "For today I will, but…"
"But what?" Esme asked, genuine concern and curiosity in her tone and on her face. "Do you not like them?"
Mortified, I mumbled, "No. No, I love them. They're perfect. But something like this should stay in the family. I mean, they should probably go to your daughter."
I don't think I grasped the concept that I was gaining a family along with a husband.
I'll never forget Esme's soft smile or the gentle way she squeezed my hand when she said, "You are family. After today, you're my daughter, too."
My eyes sting now from the memory.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't catch the phone in time," Esme says, bringing me back to the moment.
"It's okay," I breathe out, swallowing back emotion. "Totally fine. Thanks for calling me back."
"Thank you for calling me at all. I've wanted to reach out many times since Edward told me about the baby, but I didn't want to overwhelm you."
I think about how she reached out after I initially left Edward. Some were calls I didn't answer, and a couple were emails, telling me she was willing to talk if I ever needed to and that she prayed for Edward and me every day.
"How are you?" she asks.
"I'm okay. I just wanted to call and say happy birthday. And to thank you for sending those baby items. Edward gave it all to me a few weeks ago, and yeah. Sorry it took me so long to reach out, but it was really sweet and so appreciated, Esme. So, thank you."
"Of course. I'm so glad you liked everything," she replies, the soft cadence of her voice warming me. "I don't know if Edward told you, but my mom used to knit all of her grandbabies' blankets. It breaks my heart a little that she isn't around to make one for her first great-grandbaby," she murmurs, making my own heart yearn and ache for a woman who was gone long before I ever met Edward. "Unfortunately, knitting was never something I was able to pick up easily, or was even really interested in. That's why I wanted you to have Edward's."
"It means so much," I whisper. "Seriously. Thank you."
"You don't need to thank me. We're just so happy. So over the moon for you and Edward regardless of the circumstances. Babies are such blessings," she tells me, and I can hear the smile in her voice. "Do you have some time to catch up or do you need to go?"
"I have time," I say, nervous. "I mean, if you want to. I'd like that."
"I just have to meet Allie in an hour for lunch then to go look at wedding dresses," she says.
"Oh, wow. Dresses already," I breathe out a small, surprised laugh.
"They're moving a bit fast, but you know Allie. Once she gets her mind set on something, there's no going back."
"Do they have a date yet?"
"Likely the end of May, depending on which venue they book."
She says it casually, but I have to wonder why Allie chose the end of May because that's when I'm due. Maybe it's a coincidence and not everything has to do with me, which is why I don't say anything to Esme now. I doubt I'd be involved in the wedding in any way—not the photographer nor a bridesmaid. And I'm not even sure I'd be invited. So maybe her wedding date shouldn't matter to me.
"Well… I'm happy for her," I say, keeping it drama-free.
"I'm happy for her, too. A baby and a wedding—May is certainly going to be a busy, busy month for all of us!" she says excitedly, and maybe it's silly, but her acknowledgment of my due date momentarily eases my anxiety over the future. "How far along are you exactly?"
"Eighteen weeks."
"Almost halfway there! Edward said you have an appointment soon to find out what you're having."
The mention of his name makes my heart clench. "Yeah, it's in a couple of days."
"Will you let me know what you're having so I can start buying stuff? I have so many darling items in mind."
"Of course," I agree softly. "I'm sure Edward will let you know after we find out."
"I'm sure he will, too. But I'd love to hear from you more," she says sincerely. "And if you need anything from me, anything at all, I'm just a call away. Pregnancy can get weird but there are no weird questions. Google is helpful but it also hands out healthy doses of hysteria. I don't need you stressing over something that could potentially be normal."
I chuckle but her affection softens me. "Thank you. Seriously. You might regret that offer, but… thank you."
"How's work?" she wonders. "I hope you're not overdoing it?"
"Work is decent. I haven't pushed it too much, and I guess once I get further along I can pick and choose which jobs I take, which is nice."
"That flexibility does sound nice, especially after the baby comes. I just hate the idea of you being on your feet often or lifting too much. Do you have an assistant or anyone to occasionally help you?"
"I don't have an assistant and usually work alone," I tell Esme now, not bothering to tell her how I had to hire Peter for a while because weddings were debilitating to my heart. "But… but Edward went with me to a shoot at the beginning of December. This family wanted photos on top of Runyon Canyon, and Edward was worried about me going alone. Hiking when it was dark. Just… yeah."
"I'm glad he decided to go with you."
The way she says it makes me think she already knew about it. "He told you?"
"He did. Apparently, he was asked to co-host the SEC Championship game in Atlanta that day, but turned it down to go with you," Esme tells me.
My heart softens to the point of feeling like I want to cry. "He did?"
"Yes. I figured he wasn't going to tell you, but I do think it's important for you to know. I'm not saying it to make you feel guilty, but so you know how much he cares. It's so easy to get caught up in our heads. I know all too well. But I hope you can see how hard he's trying. I know he's recognized how hard you're trying, too."
"I wish he would have told me. I would've told him to go to Atlanta," I mumble, feeling guilty and grateful all at once.
"You and I both know he wouldn't have been able to concentrate if he wasn't at the photoshoot. So, he was right where he was supposed to be," Esme reassures me. "Where he wanted to be. With you."
She says it with conviction, and her honest words inspire me to open up a bit more.
"We went to couple's therapy the other day," I tell her, maybe to show that we're both putting in effort.
"He told me that, too," Esme replies, and I'm so overwhelmed with gratitude that he's been talking to her and opening up.
"Did he tell you details?" I ask, needing to know what I should and shouldn't say.
"No. Nothing specific, just that you both agreed to go and did. He's still private and protective when it comes to you and your marriage," she reassures me. "I hope you know I'm really proud of you both for putting in the work."
"Thank you," I murmur, swallowing back emotion from her support. "That first session was hard, but I want to think it was helpful. He's taking some space right now because I threw a lot at him, but… I don't know. I'm scared."
"I understand," she soothes. "He's scared, too. Just give him time."
"I know. I'm trying. But if he decides he doesn't want us to stay married, I don't think I could blame him. After everything I did. After my insisting we should ever divorce in the first place," I mumble, feeling ashamed.
"I can assure you, sweetheart, that is the very last thing he wants."
"Deep down I know that, but I just… worry," I admit, feelings of inadequacy slipping in. "I didn't deserve for him to pass up that work opportunity. I know I didn't deserve him to put our problems aside and be there for me while we're in this limbo. And I know I don't even deserve you being so kind to me right now, but—"
"Oh, honey. Don't. You deserve so much. Please don't think like that. It—"
"No, just. Please let me say this before I lose my nerve," I whisper, needing to get so much off my chest. "Because I owe you an apology, Esme."
"You certainly do not," she softly chides. "This is between you and Edward. I'm happy to listen and support you in whatever way I can, but you have nothing to be sorry for when it comes to me."
"But I do because Edward's and my issues affected our entire family. It made things strained and awkward and confusing, so… yes, I do owe you an apology. It's been a long time coming, and I know nothing I can say will ever take back the mess I made but I'm so sorry for leaving without a word. I'm so sorry for not being strong enough when I needed to be. I'm working on that in therapy. I'm working on a lot of things, but… I'll never be perfect."
"You don't have to be perfect, sweetheart. You just need to be you. That's all Edward ever wanted. You're all he's ever wanted and he'd do anything for you. Please know that."
I nod even though she can't see, and tears sting my eyes before rolling down my cheeks.
"I'm sorry for not loving your son the way I should've," I cry, my voice breaking. "I'm sorry for not taking care of his heart. I'm sorry if I ever gave you sleepless nights worrying about him. I'm not yet a mom, but I can't even imagine how hard that would be," I sniffle. "I'm just so, so incredibly sorry."
The line is quiet until I hear Esme sniffling, too.
"Oh, Bella. I've had sleepless nights over my children since 1987. Nothing you did or didn't do attributed to that," she says with a small, kind laugh. "I just want all of my kids to be happy and healthy, and that includes you. So while I appreciate your heartfelt words, honey, they certainly are not necessary. But if it makes you feel better or helps in any way… then you wholeheartedly have my forgiveness."