Right Through Me
Chapter 4: Revelations
Carlisle was standing against a column at the front of the inn, a lit cigarette in hand, when a familiar white Escalade pulled up to the driveway and stopped directly in front of him. He immediately crushed the butt and flicked it into the garbage can nearby.
Alice, dressed in another one of her designer wrap coats, eyed him strangely as he slid into the passenger seat. They sat in silence, unmoving, for a few moments before she finally said, "How was your night?"
"Fine," he said, staring blankly ahead.
"That's nice," she hummed, tapping an impatient nail against the wheel. "Sleep well?"
"Like a baby."
Alice sighed exasperatedly then, shifting the car in park as she turned her body to face him completely. "You left in the middle of a festival you suggested we sponsor, leaving Edward––who you know isn't as good with the locals as you are––to fend for himself. I had to fucking babysit the idiot. You have got to give me something at least."
"Are you saying the festival wasn't worth it?" Carlisle said, tilting his head.
"Well, of course it was," Alice grumbled. "Our visitors from neighboring towns…I was able to close some deals with a lot of store and bar owners." She huffed. "Still, I'm curious. Why did you leave in the middle of it to follow Bella back here?"
He sighed. "Because I had to. I had a bad feeling."
She narrowed her eyes, and puckered her lips in deep thought. "And? Did you…fuck her?"
"No."
"Then I still don't get it, Carlisle," she sighed, leaning back in her seat.
"She was going to drive all the way to Seattle while intoxicated," he said. "She wasn't thinking straight. I couldn't let that happen."
She raised an eyebrow. "Because you're suddenly a fucking good samaritan now?"
"When I benefit from it."
"That's not what a good samaritan means, but alright," Alice said dryly. She shifted back to drive, and began to pull the car out of the driveway. "Or…is it possible you're more than attracted to her or something?"
"Oh, Jesus." He put a finger on his temple and began massaging it.
"I'm just making sure," she laughed. "We can't afford that again, can we?"
Carlisle didn't respond and stared straight ahead. A few seconds later, he agreed, "No. We can't."
"Leaving so soon?"
Despite her throbbing hangover-induced headache, Bella managed to smile politely at the young, raven-haired girl at the desk who'd replaced Cora in her shift. "Yeah, as much as I'd love to stay, I have to be getting home."
The girl nodded and accepted Bella's card for payment. As she worked her way in the computer, she said, "The gentleman who was in the room next to you. Mr. Cullen. Do you know him?"
She held her breath. "Yes…Is he still here?"
"No, he left very early this morning. But he also left a package for you." The girl stood up and gave Bella back her card, together with a small paper bag.
Bella released her breath slowly, taking the bag gingerly in her hands. "Right. Thank you."
She only decided to open the bag once she was settled in the driver's seat. Taking another deep breath, she pulled out the items: a bottle of sparkling water, some hangover pills, and a few packets of convenience store chocolate and treats. There was also a small post-it note on the inside fold of the bag, with neat, professional handwriting.
Your hangover must be pretty bad right now. Drive safe. -C
She tried to force herself not to blush, but she couldn't help it. Groaning frustratedly, she shoved the items back in the bag and threw it on the passenger's seat next to her.
Not even a full minute later, she sighed and reached back into the bag, pulling out the hangover pills.
After a few hours, Bella finally arrived at her apartment. She stood outside for a few moments, staring at Mike's loafers lying on the mat, before pressing the doorbell.
The door opened a minute later, and Mike's babyfaced head popped out of the gap, his light blue eyes bright and his lips in a genuine welcoming smile.
Bella smiled back. "Hey, you."
He opened the door fully then, and Bella's breath hitched as she took in his outfit: a navy blue button down––the one that complimented his eyes so well––and a pair of tight jeans. He also revealed a whole bouquet of sunflowers in his hand, which he handed to her.
She bit her lip as she closed the door behind her and put down her luggage with the flowers."That's the shirt I like, isn't it? The one I said you look absolutely dashing in?"
Mike pursed his lips and pulled her by the waist gently closer to him. He even smelled so good…a new cologne, she guessed? Whatever it was, she liked it.
He lifted his fingers to caress the side of her face. She shivered immediately. "I fucking missed you, Bella."
She sighed as he pulled her in for a deep kiss. Yes, this felt right. This was where she belonged. Mike's kiss was desperate, and she felt a familiar wanting as his tongue snaked its way between her lips. His hands began trailing up and down her waist, until they finally reached under her shirt.
She groaned when Mike led her backwards into the kitchen, where he pressed against the counter. She moaned again against his lips when she felt his hands graze over her breasts, and squeeze them gently.
"Babe," she whispered. "Let's move to bed."
"No," he said, before flipping her swiftly around, and pushing her stomach roughly down the counter. Before she could react, he shoved her pants and underwear down together to pool at her feet.
This is new, she thought. Although Mike wasn't necessarily bad in bed, he wasn't usually very adventurous either. Sex usually just occurred between the four walls of their bedroom. She never really minded before. But now, feeling his need pressing up against her on the counter…
She realized she'd never been more physically attracted to her fiancé until that moment.
She heard him pull down his own pants behind her, and the familiar sound of a packet being ripped open. She later felt him position his cock at her entrance.
"You like it like this?" he said, still not pushing inside her, his hands cupping her breasts underneath her shirt.
"Yes," she breathed. "Please, Mike."
Without further hesitation, he shoved himself to the hilt inside her, and leaned down to groan in pleasure against her ear. He twisted her nipples as he thrust erratically inside her.
"You're gonna be my wife," he said roughly. "You're all mine."
"Yes," she moaned, feeling herself getting closer and closer to the edge.
"Say it," he ordered, a hand shooting up to hold roughly by the neck.
Bella struggled to form her words coherently, but managed, "I'm––I'm gonna be your wife. I'm all yours. And you'll get to fuck me just like this forever. Would you like that?"
He groaned in appreciation at the words. "I fucking love you."
When he reached down between her legs to rub her clit, she was thrown completely off the edge. She practically yelled his name as she came, and not a moment too soon afterwards, she felt him throb inside her as he climaxed as well.
As they descended slowly from their high, Mike slowly pulled himself out from her, and peppered small kisses at the side of her neck. Bella turned herself around and leaned her lower back against the counter, looking up at his satisfied, pink face. She was sure hers looked quite similar.
"That was…" she began.
Mike hummed and kissed her forehead. "Good, I hope?"
"That's a given," she said, stepping out of the pool of clothes at her feet. She bit her lip and pulled her fiancé by his hips towards her, leaning up to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "And different. Where'd you learn how to do that, hmm?"
His brows furrowed for a second and he pursed his lips. "I just wanted to show you exactly how much I missed you, and how sorry I was for how I acted before."
"Well, message received," she chuckled. "I heard there was lasagna. I'm starving."
"Anything for you, sweetheart." He gave her a lopsided smile before kissing the tip of her nose.
Bella was undeniably chipper for the next two weeks.
Her relationship with her fiancé was getting better, and not to mention, her own sex life was improving as well. Her positive response to the sex-on-the-counter thing he pulled probably inspired him to maintain that standard, much to her pleasure. Additionally, she was able to catch up on work and meetings, and later secured the partnership with a popular singer-songwriter as an ambassador for Swan Markets––an outcome she'd been manifesting for several months.
Things were looking well for her. Forks felt like a fever dream more than anything now.
"Good morning, Bella," her personal assistant––a mousy freckled girl named Lauren––greeted as she entered her office. She set down a set of folders on her desk. "Here are the details on the partnership, which you asked for."
"Thanks, Lauren," she hummed, leaning back on her chair and flipping through the first file.
"Can I just say that you've been absolutely glowing this week?" Lauren commented, tilting her head. "That vacation you took must have been something."
Bella looked up and smiled politely. "I suppose. Forks was…good."
Strangely, Lauren frowned. "Oh, Forks? That's where you went? Huh. We all guessed you'd gone to something a bit fancier. Arizona, maybe, like you did before."
That was odd, but Bella couldn't put her finger as to why yet. "Right. Well, Forks was charming, in its own way."
"I'm sure it was," Lauren nodded, before turning to leave.
"Hold on, Lauren." She cleared her throat. "No one in the office knew where I went?"
She nodded slowly, her expression unsure. "Not that I know of…We thought since you didn't disclose it yourself, you didn't want us to know. So we never asked." She pursed her lips. "Should we have?"
"No, that's not it," she assured her, putting down the file on her desk.
Babe, why are you in Forks?
I called your office when you wouldn't pick up.
"But Mike," she began, feeling her eyebrows furrowing, "my fiancé, he called here a few times, no? While I was gone?"
Lauren nodded quickly. "Oh, yes. Quite a few times. He sounded pretty worried about you and kept asking if you were in."
"And what did you say?"
"Just that you'd taken a leave," Lauren said slowly. "We didn't know where you'd gone or when you would be back."
"Okay," Bella sighed, clasping her hands on her desk. "Thank you, Lauren. That will be all."
"Did I do something wrong?"
She shook her head. "Definitely not. You can get back to work."
It was Saturday night, and Bella sat across from Jessica and Angela again at a corner table at a new French restaurant that had opened up near the office. She was slightly buzzed, after the few glasses of wine she'd inhaled after the heavy pasta.
"This is insanely good," Jessica hummed, sipping on her glass. "We should come back every weekend."
"I'm down," Bella agreed immediately. "New tradition."
She turned to Angela, who she realized had been generally quiet the entire night. The girl, while looking beautiful in her perfect makeup, clearly looked sullen as she stared blankly at her barely eaten pasta, twirling her fork.
"Are you alright, Ange?" Bella asked, reaching out to touch her hand. Immediately, Angela jumped, as if she'd just disturbed her from her thoughts.
"I'm fine," she said quickly, dropping the fork loudly on her plate. "I just don't feel very well, that's all."
"Oh, no," Jessica said, worry etched in her face. "What are you feeling exactly?"
"It's nothing," Angela assured again. She twirled some of her pasta and took a bite.
Bella and Jessica looked at each other meaningfully for a moment, before the latter continued the conversation. "Right, Bella. You haven't told us much about your vacation. Did you meet Jacob? Was he nice to you?"
Bella chuckled nervously. "Um, yeah. I met him. He showed me around Forks and brought me to this bonfire festival. It was pretty neat." She cleared her throat. "But yeah, Forks is probably just a one-time thing. I missed SM the whole time, and of course, you guys."
"And Mike?" Angela asked, looking up at her. "How are you guys doing?"
Bella pursed her lips, before revealing a knowing smile. "Yeah, we're good. Very good. As soon as I came back…I don't know. I mean we've fought and made up before, but this is different. I think we're really okay again."
"That's good," Jessica said, though her words slurred in her slight intoxication. "Whatever makes you happy, Bells."
"Yeah," Angela said with a small smile, before taking another bite of her pasta.
They'd taken Bella's car––she'd brought the Toyota this time––to the restaurant, so naturally, she was the one who had to drop them off at their homes. She'd dropped of Jessica first, since her apartment was nearer.
When she pulled up to Angela's apartment, Bella grabbed the girl's wrist before she could open the door. "Wait," she said.
Angela turned to her, panic momentarily flashing across her pale face. "What?"
Bella sighed, shifting the car to park and facing her completely. "I know something's bothering you, Ange. You can tell me anything."
"I don't know––"
"Ange," Bella said with emphasis, turning completely serious. "Please."
Suddenly, Angela's face contorted into pure pain, and her eyes turned glassy with tears. "I––I can't. Not now, Bella."
"Are you crying?"
"No," Angela shook her head, before burying her face in her hands. "Please, don't worry about me. I'll…I'll tell you about it real soon, okay? I just need time."
"Come here," Bella whispered, pulling in her friend for a hug. She felt Angela shake as she finally gave in and released a sob. Bella gently patted her back as she cried on her shoulder. "What happened while I was gone? Whatever it is, Ange, I'm here. Always remember that."
"You're too kind, Bella," Angela said, pulling away and wiping her tears away with her hand. As a result, the perfect mascara she had began running down her cheeks. "You know that, right? That you're too kind?"
"I thought I was more of a bitch, but okay," Bella joked, trying to lighten the heavy air.
Angela gave her a small smile. "I'll be alright. Thank you for taking us out tonight."
"Of course. See you Monday."
Angela took her purse and left the car, and Bella watched as she walked through the doors of her building. Angela crying…That was rare. The woman was one of the most cheerful and kind people she'd ever met, and Bella was usually the one crying about her problems to her.
Whatever was bothering her must be bad. She made a mental note to herself to keep an eye on her at work.
Angela didn't show up for work in the morning of Monday.
Again, odd. She was usually the first person at the office, even coming in as early as six a.m. on some days. If she wanted to take a sick day, she would never fail to inform her.
Bella didn't get so much as a text, and that worried her.
Throughout the day, she kept trying to call the girl. She even asked around the office if they'd noticed anything strange about Angela, but no one came up with anything concrete. Maybe a private family thing, Jessica had surmised.
Whatever it was, it was bugging the hell out of Bella.
She was about to head out for the day after the meeting with their new ambassador and drop by Angela's home when she was interrupted by the knock on her office door.
"Come in," she called immediately, zipping up her bag.
"Bella."
She looked up immediately, and widened her eyes as she saw the woman she had been planning to hunt down. "Ange, thank God. I was so worried about you."
Angela looked absolutely terrible. She wore a worn-out sweater and leggings, and her pale face was bare. Her eyes were puffy, as if she'd been crying all day. "I can't do it anymore. I have to tell you."
"Please, sit down," Bella said, gesturing for the chair in front of her desk, while she leaned on the edge of her table.
Angela stepped forward but refused to sit. "Please know that I wanted to tell you as soon as I…But I was worried. And confused. You were having such a great week and you've been so busy––I wanted to be a good friend, believe me. I'm sorry that I've only come to realize now that telling you should've been the priority from the start."
With a shaky hand, Angela reached into her duffel bag to pull out a folder. She held it out to Bella.
Bella stared at the folder, and was already beginning to feel her heart sinking with dread. "Angela, what is this?"
"I'm so sorry," Angela said again.
Bella sat motionless on the park bench, waiting patiently with a cup of coffee in her hand. She wasn't even halfway through it, but it had already turned cold. She tapped a nail in a consistent beat against the side of the cup as she waited, staring blankly at the loud fountain in front of her.
"Hey, you."
Mike finally showed up, dressed in his work suit and holding his brown satchel. He smiled genuinely and stood in front of her, kissing her forehead in greeting.
"Hey," Bella greeted.
"I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long," he said, sitting down next to her and setting down the satchel on his side. He turned to face the fountain. "Wow, I haven't been to the park in ages."
"Same," she said simply. "How was work?"
Mike's smile widened. "Really good. This new case I got, it's a no-brainer. A sure win this time, I'm telling you. I just need enough time to prep my client."
"That's good," Bella said.
He tilted his head. "So…why did you want to meet here, and not back home?"
She finally turned to completely face him, her expression stoic. "For witnesses."
He frowned. "What?"
Bella reached into her bag and pulled out the folder Angela had given her. She laid it on Mike's lap and opened it.
His expression immediately turned dark.
"This first photo," Bella began, her voice unnaturally calm despite the situation. "It was taken a couple of days before I got back. That's you, isn't it? Inside your car?"
"I don't…"
Bella moved the photo to reveal the next one, and she watched as her fiancé's face turned bright red and his forehead begin to sweat. "And that's still you. Except there's someone else who got in the car with you."
"Bella, I––"
"You know, at this point, I was still willing to give you the benefit of the doubt," she cut off, a dark smile playing across her lips. "I don't mind you getting into a car with a girl. Or even go out for lunch, or whatever. You know I'm not the type, right? After all, at our line of work, socializing is a must."
Mike gulped and continued to stare at the photos on his lap.
"But the context was strange," she continued. "You see, Angela…She passed by Jessica's office when she was out for lunch earlier that day, and heard the voicemail. Your voicemail, asking to meet up."
"Angela…"
"After hearing the details, she couldn't help but go and see it for herself. Thinking it was important, she started taking pictures. She was hoping that it wouldn't get any worse, that it was just a friendly meet, maybe to talk about me…That's how you knew I was in Forks, right? From Jessica?"
He remained frozen.
"But of course, it had to get worse. Naturally."
She moved the photo and revealed the last set, at which Mike instinctively looked away from. He looked like he was turning green and ready to hurl right then and there.
"Red Fish Motel," she said. "Real classy, Mike. Couldn't afford a five-star hotel for your affair with my best friend?"
He pushed the folder roughly away from him, and let the photos scatter on the pavement. He couldn't look at her, and kept his eyes fixed at the fountain across from them.
"How long has this been going on?" she asked quietly.
He didn't answer for a few moments. "Just the one time."
Bella couldn't help but release a barking, bitter laugh. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Mike, I'm giving you a chance to finally come clean, and yet you're still choosing to fuck me over again and again." She narrowed his eyes at him. "Angela heard from the voicemail that you specifically said 'I want to see you again'."
Mike buried his face in his hands.
"I'm going to ask you one more time," she said in a dangerously low voice. "How long has this been going on?"
Still without looking at her, he finally admitted, "A while. I don't know. Couldn't be more than five times."
"Five times since when?"
"This year," he said, his voice strangled. "I…You know how fucked up I've been lately. I've been consistently swamped at work, I haven't won a single case all year, I get berated every single day––"
"Yeah, yeah," she cut off. "And?"
"I just feel…undervalued, sometimes," he said. Then, hesitantly, "Even at home."
"Don't you fucking dare," she swore raising a finger. "Don't you dare pin this on me. I have been nothing but loyal and supportive to you. I don't even ask for a cent from you for the house, I let you treat me like shit when I know you've been stressed––"
"I know, I know," he cried. "I wasn't trying to pin it on you, I was just trying to explain how it felt on my end. What you do for me…I appreciate it, Bella, I really do, but I just feel immensely useless in our relationship. I didn't feel good about myself. I was in a bad place.
"Then…Well, Jessica approached me first. At first, it was to tell me off for being a shit boyfriend, and eventually I opened up to her as to why I did all those things. And she––She understood me. And I felt like I could tell her anything, and shit just snowballed from there."
Bella was strangely silent.
Finally, Mike turned around to look at her, his expression purely remorseful. He reached out to hold her hand on her lap. "I'm so sorry, Bella. I didn't…I'm so sorry. There's no excuse for it. But I can promise it would never happen again. I love you and only you."
She narrowed her eyes. "Is that what you think this is? Another problem that we're going to bounce back from?"
"We can bounce back from it," he protested, squeezing her hand tightly that it almost hurt. "Bella, we've been having a good thing going on for a while now, haven't we? We––We can fix this. We can fix anything."
Bella roughly pulled her hand from his grasp. "You think I can ever stand to look at you or even touch you after realizing the way you've been fucking me, you've learned from railing my best friend?"
Tears began to swell in his light blue eyes. "Bella, I'm begging you. Don't do this."
"No, this is closure, Mike," she stated, standing up and walking a few paces forward. She pulled the ring from her finger roughly––grunting slightly when her nails accidentally dug into the skin too deeply, drawing blood––and hurled the little band across the park and directly into the fountain.
She turned around and found Mike on his feet, shoulders shaking uncontrollably. He approached her, and to her dismay, sank on his knees and clutched her by the arm. The passersby began staring, but he didn't seem to care.
"Please, Bella," he begged. "Just one more chance. I can't…I refuse to live without you. I refuse to marry anyone else but you. I love you too much."
Bella pulled her arm away. "Get up."
He remained on his knees.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down to avoid making this scene get any worse. Finally, she said, "I'm giving you until ten p.m. tonight to get all of your shit out of the house, leave the key, and move the fuck out. If I see you or any trace of you in the apartment after that, I swear to God, I'll call the fucking cops. Is that understood?"
He looked up at her. "I'll do absolutely anything. Debase myself, if I have to. Don't do this to me."
"You can travel back in time and choose to keep your dick in your pants, Newton, then maybe I'll consider it," she said dryly, before turning to pick up her bag and now-cold coffee and leaving the park, not taking a single glance back.
Bella came in at SM at seven in the morning and settled with waiting in the small, pink-themed office, patiently for its owner to arrive.
Jessica, dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans, came in at 8:00 on the dot, probably hoping Bella wasn't there yet. When she opened the door, she froze immediately at the sight of the woman at her desk, dropping the empty boxes in her hands at her feet.
"Good morning, Jess," Bella greeted, pulling her vape pen to her mouth.
The woman didn't respond, and chose to quietly pick up the boxes instead. Her fingers trembled as she did. She awkwardly stepped forward and set the boxes on the desk, and began slowly putting in her office belongings inside.
"I didn't receive your official notice of resignation," Bella said in a monotone.
Jessica froze again, before reaching into her bag and pulling out a sheet of paper. She placed it gently on the desk in front of Bella, whose eyes immediately flitted across the words.
"Funny," she muttered. "Not a single line here apologizing for grossly betraying my trust."
Jessica made a choking sound. "I'm sorry."
"Why, Jess?" Bella's voice finally disclosed her true emotions, and she looked up at her with frustration and absolute betrayal. "Mike, I can probably get over, but you? You're my oldest fucking friend. We grew up together. We went to high school, college together. We moved to this fucking state together. How could––Why would you let this happen?"
Jessica looked down at her feet. "I'm sorry."
Bella stood up. "Is that really it? You have nothing else to say for yourself?"
Jessica stood up straight and looked up to meet her in the eye. "Okay. Yes, I'm sorry. I liked Mike before you did, you know. We met him for the first time together, and––Yeah, he chose you, but I liked him first."
Bella quirked an eyebrow. That was news to her.
"It's no excuse, I know. But I––I never really got over it. And when you told me how he's been treating you…It wasn't right, of course, but I reached out to him to find out why. That's not the Mike I used to know."
Bella couldn't help but scoff.
Jessica cleared her throat and continued anyway. "Then I found out about his situation…And I don't know, Bella, I just––I realized I was still in love with him. And I wanted to help."
"By bending over? Really, Jess?"
Jessica banged her fist on the desk, much to Bella's surprise. "I knew you wouldn't understand! You never understood what he wanted. You never gave him the appreciation he deserved. And he's right, you know. You can be really. Fucking. Spoiled."
"You've got some nerve," Bella said darkly. "Get out."
"But my things––"
"This is all company property now. Did you not read your own contract? SM reserves the right to claim items within its office after an employee is terminated, for any reason they see fit. Now, get the fuck out of this office and never, ever step foot in this place again."
Jessica screeched in utter frustration and stormed out of the room. Before she could get very far, however, Bella reached her and stopped her by the wrist.
"Wait."
Jessica turned to face her. A few employees had also arrived, and were staring at the altercation with curiosity. "What more do you want?"
"I accept your resignation," she said in a monotone. "You are no longer affiliated with Swan Markets through any means."
"I don't give a fuck."
"Nor are you part of the company's Code of Protection from Corporate Harassment and Bullying."
Before Jessica could process the information, Bella's slap had turned into a rough smack on the way to her face, and the force caused the girl to trip over backwards. She knocked herself over another employee's desk and fell to the floor.
"You two-faced dirty fucking whore," Bella swore as she towered over her cowering form.
Jessica scoffed as she struggled back to her feet. "Y––You're fucking crazy! I could still sue you! There are witnesses."
Immediately, the employees––one of which was Bella's own assistant, Lauren––turned away and looked at anything but the scene taking place, going back to work. Others even began to take phone calls.
"Feel free to challenge Swan Markets' lawyers," Bella said. "I wouldn't be surprised; you have a lot of nerve, after all. Now get the fuck out."
The whole situation––her breakup with her now ex-fiancé, her best friend's betrayal––only sunk in several days later, when she stood in the living room and was face-to-face with a vase of wilted sunflowers. The sunflowers that she had been given when she got back from Forks, the day that she fell in love with Mike all over again.
Which was only two days after he fucked her best friend.
Bella grabbed the vase and hurled it across the room, and watched as the expensive glass broke into a million pieces.
Like her heart had.
She sank into the floor and released, for the first time, the tears that she had been holding back since the day she forced Mike to leave. The tears began falling uncontrollably, and she wailed like a child at how utterly unfair the world was to her. Every single time she would think things were going well, the universe would always pull shit like this.
She received her dream dollhouse for her sixth birthday, then her dad said he wouldn't make it to her preschool graduation.
She got into her dream course in her dream college, then her mom died from cancer.
And now, just as she thought her engagement and company were going well, her fucking fiancé had been apparently cheating on her for a year.
Bella shifted her position and laid on her back on the floor, and stared at the shiny chandelier above the room. She was unsure again on what to do. She'd been going to work and doing what needed to be done, and despite her recent successes, her heart was just not into it. She couldn't even bring herself to go out and celebrate with the staff like she usually did. Instead, she sulked at home, licking the wounds of her broken heart.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out and read Angela's message.
Hey, Bells. I have a bottle of wine I can't finish. Can I come over?
She smiled. At least Angela was still around. She was constantly worried about Bella, and would constantly offer to check up on her this way from time to time.
Bella typed out, Not tonight, Ange. How about tomorrow?
She put the phone back in her pocket and went back to staring at the ceiling. After what was between five minutes and an hour––time passes strangely when you're sad, she noticed––her phone vibrated again.
Except it wasn't Angela, like she'd expected.
It was from an unsaved number, but there was a message history. She had previously sent details of her car's mechanic to this number.
For the first time in a few weeks, she felt…something besides her usual emotional cycle of anger, betrayal, and nothingness. Now, she felt curious. And suddenly very, very much awake.
Carlisle's message was simple. Check your email.
Bella sat up immediately and ignored the dizziness she felt from the sudden movement. She leaned her back against the foot of her couch and opened the page of her email.
Ms. Dwyer,
Congratulations! After a lengthy consideration due to our competitive pool of applicants, we are happy to inform you that your application for the position of Junior Finance Consultant for the Masen-Cullen Brewery Group – Washington has been approved. Should you choose to accept this offer, please find attached your expected responsibilities and the date for your first day.
Should you need any assistance (e.g. transportation logistics for out-of-town employees, housing availabilities in Forks) please feel free to contact me.
We look forward to working with you.
Alice Brandon
Head of Human Resources
MCB Group
Bella scoffed. What. The. Fuck?
Before she could react any further, she felt her phone vibrate again. It was Carlisle again, but this time, he'd sent a video clip.
It looked to be a video that he had just taken right then. There, Edward Masen was leaning against a table with lined up bottles in what looked to be a room in their factory. Carlisle zoomed in his camera to the labels on the bottles.
"Look, Bella," Carlisle said in the video, his voice amused and as angelic as ever. Despite herself, Bella felt her stomach twist at the sound of her name. "We're testing out our spirits."
He shifted the camera to Edward again, who seemed to be talking animatedly to one of the employees. Despite this, Carlisle called out to him, "Edward. Do you have a message for our new Junior Finance Consultant?"
"Junior F––" Edward began, then saw the camera. Suddenly, his lips broke into a smirk, and to her surprise, he raised a dirty finger. "Fuck you for getting in my head, Dwyer. That's my message."
Carlisle suddenly flipped the camera to himself, and Bella's breath hitched as she took in his familiar, beautiful, cherubic face. His cheeks were light pink––was he drunk?––and he smiled apologetically in the video. "That was quite rude. Sorry about that. See you soon, Bella."
The clip turned dark as it ended, and Bella saw her own smiling reflection; she hadn't truly smiled in days. Surprised with herself, she cleared her throat and took a deep breath.
What the fuck was going on?
She had forgotten she had even applied for the stupid company. She had almost forgotten about Carlisle Cullen and his friends. She was pretty sure she'd bombed that interview and yet…
Well, Jacob had said Carlisle and Edward were strange business owners.
She remembered that a few minutes ago, she'd been thinking about having no idea what do next. And now, she gets the acceptance letter, and the message from Carlisle…Was this the universe sending her a sign? Maybe its apology?
She had nothing to prove. Mike wasn't even in her life anymore. And yet, why was the thought of being able to sway the stubborn, arrogant Edward Masen to follow her advice––which she'd thought of on the spot during that interview––more satisfying than any of the work she'd done recently at Swan?
She was screwed.
Bella found herself typing back a message to Carlisle. See you soon.
She was so screwed.
After visiting Bella at her apartment for some wine, Angela left at around midnight and stepped inside her car. Sighing, she began to drive.
But she didn't go straight home.
Instead she drove to the park, where she positioned the car between two trees at the end of the lot. She cut the engine and gulped. She was right where she was instructed to go at this exact time.
She left the door unlocked. However, she also had a hand inside her purple purse, clutching her pepper spray. Just in case.
After five minutes, the passenger seat door opened and a man slid smoothly inside. To her surprise, he looked nothing like she'd expected. She'd imagined the man she was corresponding with to be sketchy, dark, and mysterious. But in her car was a blond man in his thirties, wearing a cozy grey sweater, and smelling like expensive cologne.
"Um, hi," Angela managed when the man turned to face her, a gentle smile on his face.
"Hello, Angela," he said smoothly. "It's great to finally meet you in person."
"Likewise, I suppose."
The man––who hadn't ever fully introduced himself before––reached into the binder he'd brought with him and pulled out a letter envelope. He proceeded to hand it directly to her, but was stopped when she raised a hand against it.
"No," she said firmly. "I changed my mind. I don't want to be paid for this. It feels…dirty."
The man tilted his head, waiting for her to explain further.
"Look, I don't know who you really are, though I can tell you're like, important," she stammered, keeping a hand gripped tightly on the wheel. "And you probably have some hidden agenda as to why you gave me all that information and the, um, incriminating photos. But the fact that you gave them to me and insisted I tell Bella about it, instead of using it as blackmail material, or how this shit usually goes…I don't know. It's a kind thing."
"Kind?" He sounded amused.
"Yeah, kind. Bella has been stuck in that relationship for years and was forcing herself to stay for an absolute idiot, when this whole time, he's been fucking her over like this. I'm only sorry I'd never seen it before and that I couldn't protect her from it. So, no, I don't want to be paid to be a good friend and to finally help her heal from all this."
The man nodded slowly, putting the envelope on his lap. "Except I'm not only paying you for doing a good deed."
Angela narrowed her eyes at him. "You mean, you want me to keep my mouth shut about how I got the information?"
He shrugged.
"You don't have to worry about that," she laughed nervously. "I don't even know who you are."
"Eventually, you will," he said, giving her a small smile. "Tell me, how's Bella? Has she told you about any new developments?"
"Thankfully, she seems to be a bit more chipper than before," Angela said. "We just talked shop again, though of course we avoided any mention of the…incident. Have I told you she punched Jessica Stanley across the face in the office? And apparently called her a, what was it, 'two-faced dirty fucking whore'?"
The man laughed genuinely then, throwing his head back. "No, you haven't, and I'm glad you told me. That's fucking hilarious." After he calmed down, he kept his smile and continued, "What else?"
"She's…also thinking of quitting," Angela remembered. "Just a thought, she said. She's been feeling unhappy and thinking about converting her position into shares instead. She asked me how I'd feel about it."
"What did you say?"
"I said she's insane," Angela said, shaking her head. "No one could do her job better than her, there's no one capable of replacing her. Plus, Mr. Swan would never approve that anyway."
"Her father?"
She nodded. "So now, she's thinking of being a more remote, less hands-on CEO, so she can undertake other business pursuits. Now that I said I supported. Swan is doing well on it's own anyway, and more work would keep her busier and hopefully happier."
"Interesting. Did she mention what business pursuits she had in mind?"
"I'm not sure, she didn't go into much detail on that," Angela admitted. "Though she's planning on moving out of Seattle."
The man's lips twitched. "To Forks."
She raised an eyebrow. "Yeah…Forks. How did you know?" She looked him up and down. "You're not a creepy stalker, are you? Oh, God, please don't tell me I've been feeding a perv's delusions."
He laughed again. "Believe it or not, I'm far from it. The reason I know these things is because it's my job." He pursed his lips. "Now, I must insist you take the payment anyway. To be sure."
She sighed. "Trust means nothing to you, no?"
"Oh, it means everything to me," he insisted, leaving the envelope on top of the dashboard. "It's just easier to ensure it when there's money involved." He turned to her, his expression turning somber. "You're a good friend, Angela."
She smiled. "Thanks."
Before he left, Angela grabbed his arm and stopped him. "Wait. Just one last question."
"Hmm?"
"You said that eventually, I'll know who you are," Angela said. "So why not just tell me now? You know what, I promise to take the money, as long as you tell me. You can trust me then, right?"
He looked her over several times and seemed to ponder over it seriously. Eventually, he released a deep sigh, and reached out a hand.
"Carlisle Cullen. Satisfied?"