Right Through Me

Chapter 11: Reinforcements

The next couple of weeks at MCB were tense.

To Carlisle's confusion, even Edward seemed to be avoiding him as much as possible. Perhaps it was just his tired, overworked imagination, but it seemed as if his closest friend was holding back some form of anger towards him.

It wasn't like Edward to act this way. If he was angry, he usually just said it.

It didn't help that Carlisle's almost-fiancée seemed to have settled in at Forks, at least for the indeterminate time being. She even frequented the headquarters in the guise of consulting the local business strategy. He felt completely helpless, as if the past year of healing had been all for naught. Here he was again, unable to stand up for himself, under the high-heeled shoe of Esme von Platt.

He didn't understand himself, either. Her hold on him was more than just because of her lion's share of the company. Esme's cunning words and innocent smiles––Carlisle knew she was manipulating him.

But she just knew him so well. Knew the right strings to pull, and which to leave untouched. And the broken, mangled piece of Carlisle couldn't help but feel that maybe…Just maybe, she was exactly what he deserved.

Do you still love me? Esme had asked him sweetly, during the date she had requested.

No, he had responded, and it was the truth. This wasn't love. The closest thing he had for that was long gone, running far away from him in an emerald green ensemble.

Esme had still smiled sweetly at his response.

As for Bella…

Alice had announced that their global marketing consultant was taking a leave of absence, at least at MCB. Something about her presence being required to welcome the new quarter over at Swan Markets. Edward hadn't said much about the situation, which Carlisle absent-mindedly found strange. Edward always had something clever and witty to say.

It was as if Forks had officially ceased to become his safe haven.

"You're a fucking coward."

It took Edward Masen too long before he finally said the first honest thing to Carlisle, ever since the ball.

Carlisle shifted slightly in his seat in his office, not meeting Edward's eyes since he entered he room. "What?"

"A coward," Edward spat, closing the door behind him with his foot. A storm brewed in his eyes. "You're putting everything we worked for at risk, all because you can't admit that you. Need. Help."

"What would I need help with?"

Edward sat down on the lounge in front of Carlisle's desk, leaning over the table to face him dead in the eye. "We have to kick Esme out for good."

Carlisle's nose twitched. "You know we can't do that."

"We can't?" Edward repeated, shaking his head. "Or have you just lost the balls to do so? For fuck's sake, do you have any idea what it's like for Alice and I to watch you like this?"

Silence.

"How about Bella Swan, then? Have you stopped giving a fuck about her, too?"

That caught his attention. Carlisle's blue eyes had an ignited glint to them now, and the hands on his desk were now clenched. "What are you talking about?"

"She told me everything," Edward said, crossing his arms on his chest. "After that night, she told me everything. I've––You're a fucking coward, Carlisle."

"That's none of your business."

"Damn right, it shouldn't be," Edward chuckled humorlessly. "But somehow, it is now."

Carlisle studied Edward's face then, which had morphed into something other than contempt. It was a weird expression, most probably because Edward was never sad. Not since they were kids.

"What do you want me to do?" Carlisle asked seriously. "I thought our hands are tied."

"We always find a way to get what we want," Edward said coolly. "From now on, avoid humoring von Platt. And leave the rest to me and Alice."

He stood immediately, heading straight for the door. But just before he opened it, Edward decided to say one last thing.

"I don't have to fully understand what you're going through," he started, not looking away from the mahogany door. "No matter how hard I try. I've never…experienced anything of the sort that you had, for any woman so far. It was never in my nature."

Carlisle was silent behind him.

"But at the very least, I know what being played looks like," he finally spat, before exiting the room.

"Are you serious?" Angela said incredulously.

Bella was curled up next to her best friend on her living room couch. She had called Angela to come over during the weekend, desperately needing a girl's night after getting through the past terrible weeks. While Swan Markets seemed to be doing well, her mind definitely wasn't.

It didn't even take more than twenty minutes into girl's night before Bella finally exploded and spoke about the situation over at MCB…and Carlisle.

"I wish I was kidding," Bella sighed, reaching over the coffee table for her glass of wine. She gulped half of the glass. "I don't know what to do with myself. On the one hand, I want to be professional about it, but on the other hand, I just can't stand seeing Carlisle with that woman."

"Jesus. You think they're back together, then?"

"No," Bella said at first, before admitting, "I don't know. It's complicated. You know how they work, they always have some hidden agenda. I can't tell if they're seeing each other again, but…I really don't know."

"What does your gut tell you?"

Bella pursed her lips. She recalled that night at the ball again, which she had been doing far too much during her leave. She'd practically memorized Carlisle's face from that encounter. While they didn't share a lot of words, she knew his expressions, and can guess how he must've felt…

"He's unhappy," Bella decided. "Whatever the set-up is, he's not happy."

When she turned to her companion, Angela had a pensive look as she stared at the coffee table. "Hmm."

"What?"

"I think…I think I get it now."

Bella pulled her legs up and tucked them under herself as she faced Angela directly. "What do you mean?"

Angela bit her lip, looking unsure of what she was about to say next. "I warned him to tell you himself. Threatened him, actually."

"What are you talking about?" Bella asked, feeling some dread.

Angela cleared her throat and twirled a lock of hair between her fingers a few times before finally speaking. "Okay. Bella, I wasn't completely honest with you about how I found out about Mike and Jessica."

Bella froze, not expecting those names to be brought up in the conversation. "What?"

Angela sighed. "I mean, everything else was true, obviously. Mike was a dick this whole time, and Jessica was…Jessica. But I wasn't the one who caught them. The information was just delivered to me. The pictures weren't even mine."

"That's…Then where did you get it?"

Angela merely stared at her pointedly, and after a few seconds, Bella's mouth was agape.

"Oh."

"Yeah," Angela nodded grimly. "It's the reason why I recognized him during your birthday. He gave me the information, from the answering machine recording to the motel pictures. The only catch was that I never get him or MCB involved."

"That's insane," Bella said, her mind still reeling. Why? Carlisle barely knew her then––

"He never told me the reason," Angela said, as if reading her thoughts. "My first guess was that it's part of their plan to absorb you at MCB. If you had no ties keeping you here…"

"…Then it was easier to seduce me to their side," Bella finished, her throat closing up. "That's fucking extreme. But it's definitely something they would do."

"But it still never clicked to me," Angela continued, shaking her head. "I mean, Carlisle had a lot of resources. He should've known deep down that Mike would never have kept you in Seattle. He has no relation to MCB or SM. There were much, much easier ways to seduce you, if that was the only plan."

"Where are you going with this?" Bella said slowly, her brows furrowing with the information.

"I just think that wasn't the only reason he felt compelled to out Mike like that," Angela said. "Carlisle saw something in your relationship with Mike that he immediately recognized. And saved you from it."

"That's…" Bella tucked a stray hair behind her ear, deep in her thoughts.

"Maybe I'm crazy," Angela admitted, chuckling softly. "But he was a good samaritan, in the end. And…"

Bella tilted her head, waiting for Angela to continue. "And?"

"When he brought me to my car during your birthday, he told me he was in love with you," Angela said, her lips curving to a sad smile. "You don't have to believe me, but on my end, I think he was more than sincere. And falling for you was never part of the plan."

It was as if Bella had just woken up. Her skin tingled at Angela's words, and even though the words didn't come from his mouth, it affected her just the same.

Carlisle was in love with her.

"He never told me," Bella whispered, as if to herself. "I mean, he told me he'd wait, he promised me all sorts of things, but he never…"

"I'm sorry, babe," Angela said, putting a hand on Bella's shoulder. "I just think you need to have all the information in your hands before making a decision."

"And what do I have to decide?"

Angela laughed softly, running her fingers through Bella's curls. "On whether or not you should save him back."

Edward awoke at noon on Sunday, which was rare. He'd always prided himself on his efficient, maximum productivity schedule, even on the weekends.

But he was having trouble sleeping that week.

He turned to the other side of the bed, and almost jumped at the sight of the bare back of a woman that was sharing his king-sized bed. After a few seconds of processing, he finally recalled events from the previous night.

Oh right, he thought to himself, remembering his quick trip to a club a few towns over. What the fuck is she still doing here?

The girl––Rosetta, he remembered––rolled over to face him, her eyes still closed. She was not his usual type. Edward usually preferred the curvy blondes. She was much skinnier and smaller, and had long chocolate locks that reached her waist.

It was only when the girl's eyes opened her dark brown doe eyes that it finally clicked, as to why he'd subconsciously brought this girl home.

"Get out," he immediately said.

Rosetta rolled her eyes, sitting up on the bed as she stretched her arms. "Not even a good morning?"

"Out," he repeated, sitting up on his side of the bed and immediately grabbing his phone from the bedside table. It was in that moment that he felt the throbbing in his head. Damn, how much did he have to drink last night? How did he even drive home?

"Fuck you," Rosetta spat, roughly putting her shorts on. "You weren't this much of a dick last night."

"Tequila does that to you," Edward said simply, rubbing his temples.

"Hmm." She pulled down her crop top. "I mean, you couldn't even get my name right––"

"Please," Edward groaned, events from last night suddenly emerging in his mind. "Just get out."

Rosetta simply scoffed before exiting the room. Edward waited until he heard the sound of his front door closing. When Rosetta finally slammed the said door closed, he sighed loudly before collapsing back on his bed.

He hadn't even had five breaths when his phone buzzed. Edward kept his eyes closed as he pulled it from the sheets and put it on his ear.

"Hello?"

"Um, hi, Edward."

His eyes immediately shot open at the familiar voice. He sat up too quickly––which was a horrible idea, obviously, because another round of throbbing in his temple ensued. "Bella. You don't usually call."

"You don't sound too good," she said slowly, a tinge of concern in her voice. "Are you okay?"

"Bad night," he said simply, clearing his throat. "And morning. What do you want?"

He stared at his sheets, an irrational wave of guilt tingling on his spine.

"I actually texted this morning, but you didn't respond," Bella explained. "Sorry, I know it's a Sunday, but it's a kind of important."

"Yeah, I was just sleeping," he said, rubbing his eyes. "What is it?"

"It's about MCB. And a lot of things, actually. Can we meet?"

Edward had arrived to the Italian restaurant ten minutes late. Bella recognized him immediately by the bronze-colored mess of hair he had. Despite the restaurant being more casual than anything else, her MCB mentor wore a white dress shirt, which he had tucked into a pair of midnight slacks. As soon as he sat across from her in the booth, she smelled his familiar cologne.

"Hey."

"This is new," Edward noted, running a hand through his hair. "I've never been in this part of town."

"Yeah, this one's got no Michelin stars," she joked. "But I tried their mushroom ravioli one time, and it's above average, I think."

"I love your nonexistent standards," he said, though there was no trace of a smile on his face. He gestured for the waiter to attend to them, before briskly ordering two orders of the mushroom ravioli.

"So what's this about?" he finally asked, entangling his fingers together on the table.

Bella bit her lip. "I need your honest opinion. About Carlisle."

Edward's expression remained unreadable. "Whatever it is, you can always ask him yourself."

"You know I can't. Not about this."

He pressed his lips into a hard line, before giving in. "What else do you want to know?"

Bella squirmed in her seat. She knew this was going to be an uncomfortable conversation, but she knew she had to try. "Does he need help?"

Edward narrowed his eyes, but didn't respond.

"I think Esme is more than just manipulating him for the company," Bella continued. "She wants him. And she's not going to stop there."

Edward tilted his head slightly. "Yep. She's a deluded narcissist. Called it several years ago. Either way, there's a lot of that in our line of work. And no, she won't stop. Ever."

Bella gestured wildly. "So what are we going to do about it?"

Suddenly, he laughed. The waiter arrived around the same time as well, setting down the two plates. Edward took two bites of the pasta before speaking. "You have no idea how much I've been wrecking my brain to figure that out. But that's the thing. It's difficult to help someone who can't even admit he needs it."

"So you do think he needs help," she said. "And he's unhappy?"

"Bella," Edward sighed, wiping his lips with a table napkin. "Is this strictly for MCB, or is this just for you and your feelings?"

Bella opened and shut her mouth a few times while simultaneously blinking rapidly. She felt her cheeks burn at Edward's words. It didn't help that Edward met her eyes as he waited for her response.

"He said he loved me," Bella said in a soft whisper.

Edward's face was still frozen, but his hand had dropped his fork onto the ceramic plate rather loudly, maybe accidentally.

"It's stupid, I know," she retracted, closing her eyes with embarrassment for a few seconds. "And he didn't even say it directly to me, he confided it to my closest friend. Like it was a secret. And he…He did me so many favors I never asked for, and he never asked for anything in return. I just––Be honest with me, Edward, was that all just for nothing?"

She was afraid of meeting Edward's eyes as she spoke, but when she finally did, she was surprised there was no hint of incredulity or disgust there. He was simply pensive, deep in thought as he stared back at her, not even blinking once.

Bella was about to open her mouth to speak just to fill the silence, when he suddenly adjusted his posture in his seat.

"If we're going to take down Esme, we have to have a solid plan and reinforcements."

She couldn't help but crack a smile of relief. "Right. Okay. I'm already working on something, but I'm not sure it'll lead to anything." She looked up at him. "You trust me anyway?"

Edward raised an eyebrow. He took a forkful of his ravioli, chewed a few times, and swallowed before he said, "Of course."

Coming home to the large, empty craftsman house was becoming less and less welcoming recently––but it was home, nonetheless. It probably didn't help that her eyes always ended up drifting towards the house at the other end of the street as she did, subconsciously noting whether or not the lights were on.

The second floor balcony lamps were on this time.

As she practically threw her bag on the kitchen counter and hastily pulled her vape pen from her back pocket, she tried to stop her mind from wondering whether he was alone that night. As she sucked in a deep drag, she tried even harder not to think about who he'd be with, if he wasn't.

Decide whether or not you should save him back, Angela had said.

Her mind was just about to recount the last conversation she had with Carlisle when a loud ringing came from the bag on her couch caused her to jump.

"Jesus," she muttered, pulling out her phone from the bag, and without even checking for the caller ID, she put it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, Bells."

Her slight nicotine high quickly dissipated and her eyes widened at the familiar, low voice that she hadn't heard in a long while––at least, not outside the clips in the business news columns she frequented.

"Char––Dad. Hey."

"I, er, got your email."

"Right," she said, remembering.

"It sounded urgent––"

"Yes, but I didn't expect you'd call," she blurted out. She quickly blanched at her own tone and sat herself down on the couch. "Not that it's unwelcome. Sorry."

She didn't see Charlie's face, but the long pause said it all. He continued, "You asked about the von Platts. I'm familiar with the family. Evan's death is felt over here in Europe."

"Right," she found herself saying again.

Another pause. "Can I ask what this is about?"

In just a split second, Bella lost her nerve. "I don't know. Forget it, Dad. It's nothing––"

"And this has nothing to do with your involvement at MCB?"

Bella's breath hitched. Well, she knew Charlie was aware about everything she was doing, especially that she had to disclose her affiliation to the board. But it was the first time he ever showed any form of reaction about it.

Slowly, she gathered up her her strength to speak. "I just really need your help on this one. No questions asked. Just this once."

She found herself fidgeting with the hem of her top as she waited for his response.

"I know."

Still not an answer.

There was a slight rustling on Charlie's end, as if he was reclining in his seat, before he continued to speak. "But I'll need some answers. To know exactly what it is you're looking for."

"Anything really. About Evan…and Esme."

If Charlie was any bit surprised at her request, his smooth and quick response didn't let it show. "Alright. The kid. This…might take a while. And I'm not sure we'll be able to find anything."

"Thank you anyway," she immediately said, closing her eyes in quick relief.

Now that seemed to surprise him. "I––Of course, Bells. I trust you know know what you're doing. Have a good night."

"Hey, Dad?"

Bella thought for a moment that he'd hung up already, until he responded, "Yeah?"

She stood up and walked towards the window, taking a short drag from her vape. "Um, where are you right now?"

"Home," he said slowly. "Amsterdam."

She pursed her lips. "Oh. How's––What's it like there?"

"It's…alright," he decided to reply. "It's just over 6 A.M. over here. I'm catching another flight later, to Germany."

"Then you didn't have to have to call so early," she said, feeling awkward again. "I hope you're getting enough sleep."

"Of course," There was a hint of something light in his voice, which she rarely heard. After a while, he continued almost hesitantly, "I heard Forks is all rain and clouds. Are you holding up okay?"

Bella felt herself smile, and something twist at the bottom of her stomach. "It grows on you."

"I'm sure it does."

Silence again, but it was comfortable this time. "I should get ready for bed."

"Of course. Have a good night, Bells."

"You too. And…thank you."

A/N: This story has been haunting me for two years that I can't stop writing about it now. Especially since my personal favorite arc is coming up in a couple of chapters. Hope this one was good!