..::.. Chapter 63 - Stupid Man ..::..

I dreamt of my bed when I was eighteen. The mornings I woke wishing he was beside me, I'd just have my window to watch him the moment I opened my eyes. Then that one night he did sleep beside me, it didn't feel right. I saw my future as such: my husband sound asleep, me, eyes wide, with all the worry in the world on my shoulders. That's how our lives would have been.

Despite it all being wrong, and I knew, I still craved his touch.

I wake with his caress. Not in a dream, but in this cell. I open my eye and he's here.

"Edward." His fingers fan over my cheek in the darkened room, where he's crouched by me. Not my room; it's another room, another scenario, but he's the same. I sit up and I hug him. I squeeze him so hard he has no choice but to wait.

I begin to cry. "I'm not dreaming?" I ask over his shoulder. It takes a moment of hesitation but his arms wrap around me and he's on his feet holding me off the floor.

We drift to the table. He sits me on top of it. I'm not letting go until he pulls me. He tries until he has to yank me away. He places my hands on my lap and firmly keeps them there as he stands back.

He looks … terrible, maybe more so than me. His clothes are clean and pressed but they're just a shell. Dark eyes and dry, sun-kissed skin from our time away, but over-sunken cheeks.

He stuffs his hands in his slacks, his suit folding over his wrists. The little light coming from the open door under dawn reflects around his watch. His hair is wild with fret. All I can stare at is his neck, the bit exposed down to his chest.

"Where's your tie?" I ask. A rarity for him. He's come so dressed and together I wonder if it's to taunt me.

"A precaution," he says with a pointed glare. I chuckle once. Caution for him, me the threat.

"You sent them in here, knowing me well. What did you expect?"

He looks elsewhere.

"You know what the worst part was? Your fucking voice in my head every step of the way." I catch his eyes. "You created this."

He blinks slow. This deep throaty chuckle from him. His soft lips turn up.

"I always was resourceful without you. I realize this," I say, folding my legs over the table where I sit to ponder. "I've had time to think. To remember things." I sniff back tears, wiping them away. "And I remember very, very horrible things. Not a time did you have my back. You've never saved me, Edward. I've always saved myself."

I see the hurt in his eyes, his words defensive. "You're alive now…"

"Barely…" I interrupt.

"I'm risking a reputation for myself, everything," he says. I scoff. "That's how much I've saved you. You have no idea what I've had to do. So, shut your mouth." His lips white.

I was getting ready to fire off words, but they catch. I look long and hard at him.

"Is that what you want from me, Edward?" I curiously ask. "Sealed lips, obedience, like your mother around your father?"

This halts his advance into an angry tangent.

"If things were different, and my mother and your father were alive, we would be married now," I say. He's stunned into silence. "Think of it. A big wedding. The word around the city. Everyone who is everyone would've been there. My mother would be grinding her teeth through the ceremony and reception—powerless. You and me, infatuated, anticipating a honeymoon. A lifetime together, tied like a knot." I smile.

"At first, I think it would've been blissful." I say, amused. "We would have fucked day and night in our own house. A fence, and a summer house." I trail away, eyes full of images. I put those in this mind, too as he stares blankly. "You would've gotten all the babies you wanted. Five, was it?" I ask. "I would've given you anything."

His lips part slightly, sorrowful eyes mesmerized with the mental image.

I shrug. "But then you'd feel suffocated and you'd stay away to work; diapers, milk, and kids forgotten. Your eyes would settle on other skirts and curves that aren't mine. And you'd make your father proud.

"But I'd be, what? What would I be?" I ask. "Just like her," I whisper with a nod. "Dead, her mouth shut." He watches from under his lashes. "At the least, beaten to a bloody pulp."

He moves quickly to turn the bulb on above me. My face inches from his, in plain sight. His breath staggers when he sees just that; fat lip, fat eye, bruised and beaten.

His face crumbles. He can't seem to touch me. Trembling hands hover around my cheeks.

"Fate. It would've happened anyway." I finish saying.

He cries. His forehead touches mine, his teeth grind through a sneer as he closes his eyes.

"You make me so angry," he says with an agonized growl. His fists move around my tattered robe I still keep to warm me. Nothing else has. I feel his snarl against my cheek, then the heaving of his silent cries. He sucks in a breath. "I don't know whether to kiss you or strangle you." His hands cup my neck, but all I feel is gentleness.

I turn my head. As defiant as I am, I try to kiss him, because I've missed him. I don't get to catch his lips, he pulls away.

"I do look desirable," I say to his back.

"Bella, you're going to die today and I can't stop it. That's why I came."

This is it. I nod. I won't ever show it but my heart breaks.

"I told you I would hurt you," he says, turning to look at me. He's sobbing. His eyes are blotchy, wet, and lost. Like he's revving himself up to say what his eyes aren't.

"I know. I'm sorry," I say.

"They can't let this pass. There are rules that surpass even me …" He makes fists at me, distressed.

"I know." We speak over one another.

"If not here, they'll kill you out there. I could fight like hell. I could kill every man in my path, they'd still take you away from me. I can't stop the inevitable …" He pulls at his hair. Devastated.

"I know. It is," I say. "Just like Major killing Mom was inevitable. I've learned to accept that," I add.

His lips part, a single tear hangs on the top there. His eyes flutter like he couldn't quite hear, sending more streaks down his cheeks. But he's confused now.

The last time I saw Edward like this was when his mother died and he cried on my porch in his funeral suit. Completely disarmed. Rendered to a crying child. My heart squeezes despite his spearing words.

"Did you give the order yet?" I ask, thumb over my shoulder. "I'd hold off … until I can explain some things," I say to him.

"What … what are you talking about?"

I let out a laugh. "It's incredible how much you don't know." He glares. "But … did you at least know that Major, your grandfather, could walk?"

Now, that strikes him.

"How did you …" He pales, speechless.

"I see, you knew. Maybe you'll believe me then." I nod. "Me and Mom found out, but the hard way." He looks at the door.

I reach for his arm and pull. "Not yet."

He shakes me off and walks there anyway.

"Emmett is a McCarthy, he's half blooded. Major made your grandmother raise him after killing his mother." I shake my head. "He told me himself. Then he killed Mom and tried to kill me."

He looks back.

"Bella, you do realize you will die today. It's done." He says with fire. The light reflecting in tears still in his eyes.

"Then let me get this out. Everyone gets a last word, don't they?"

He's quiet.

"I remembered all of it. I figured it out; Mom's killer. I knew all along, buried in my memory loss, but Jasper confirmed it."

He turns from me. His hands behind his neck.

"Listen to me, Edward." My throat catches, desperate. "You can leave now, but you'll leave knowing you never gave me a chance!"

He turns. "The only thing I ever did was give you a chance!" he roars. "You betrayed me anyway, Bella. You killed me!" He bangs his chest.

I sob. "I had no choice. Look at you! I have to suck the venom out." I claw my chest over my heart. "I want to free you from this addiction, from the lies!" I pull at the lapels of his suit.

"They're using you. They put you in that house to play a part, to get you out of sight. And you willingly do it every time! Emmett has taken over this mob with his family who mourned for him, their lost child. You're surrounded, Edward. Mac, Bo, God knows who else. I've seen it.

"This isn't your job anymore. You're just the enabler, the signature," I assure.

"Half-blood," he utters, eyes averted, his jaw going sharp with anger.

"Yes! Major's secret backup plan was to bring two families together, to grow and take over more territory. And Jasper has kept it from everyone. He heard Major's confession when he told me. That day I left the hospital, I went to your house, Mom's gun in my hand. I almost pulled the trigger before he confessed it all to me. Jasper heard him. He's known all along. And when he found out how vile your grandfather was; sending men to kill me, grooming Emmett since birth for his wishes he kept from all of you," I say through teeth, "He killed him himself. His own father …

"Jasper saved my life on that dirt road, but he couldn't save Mom's." I cry. "He told everyone Major died in his chair—he died chasing after us on his own two feet. I almost killed him, but I couldn't. I tried!" The gnashing of my teeth.

"You don't know anything!" I bang my fists over his chest. "They will kill you! Jasper, Carlisle, everyone has fallen into Emmett's grasp, his plans, they believe in him. They all want you dead."

I grip his face. "You've never saved me, and still, you won't. But I'm going to save you from this hole until my very last breath." I shake him by his ears, whatever it takes. "I want you to live, you stupid, stupid man!"

Eyes so bright with trepidation, emptiness, confusion. They swim in wet and red. I look into them and they're wild and animated. All the connections flash behind them. I can almost see them. But he pushes me away.

"No." I grip him in a hug. His arms by his sides. Motionless.

"Your mother would want you to fix this. Give her back her voice, Edward."

"I …. I came to see you for the last time," he mutters definitively. My arms fall away from him like a weak link.

I hold myself and I cry. I've done what I can. His back to me, walking away, feels like I've wasted my life.

I've wasted my life.

….