23
"Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me, Masen?"
"The more you say it, the more annoyed I get."
Bella glared at him, her eyes shifting to the gold ring with the Cubic Zirconia gem he was holding up. "We don't need a ring!"
"We do if we want people to buy our cover story," he argued.
They'd been arguing for over an hour and needed to leave five-minutes ago if they didn't want to be late. They, along with Esme, Carlisle, Peter, and Garrett, had spent all day Sunday hashing out their fake — yet very real — marriage, deciding to hold a small, private ceremony with the Justice of the Peace. While both Bella and Edward wanted Carlisle and Esme with them, they knew it would only draw more attention than they were already getting. Peter had tried to talk them out of it, of course, but they refused.
"Just wear it, Swan." Edward grabbed her left hand and all but forced the ring onto her fourth finger.
"It feels weird," Bella grumbled, holding her hand out in front of her. "I don't like it."
"Well, deal with it," Edward laughed. "If we're getting married, we're going to do it right."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's go, hubby, before we get spanked for being late."
Edward moaned at the thought of Carlisle spanking him.
"Ew," she grimaced.
"Sorry," he snickered.
"No, you're not, and you shouldn't be. Somehow, Masen, we're going to make this work."
"I hope so," she heard him whisper.
When they arrived at school, they found Emmett, Rosalie, Jasper, Alice, Ben, and Angela waiting for them in front of Jasper's truck. Bella and Edward shared a look as they parked in their usual spot. It took everything in Bella not to drive away, but then Carlisle would worry, and she wasn't about to make him worry. He had become just as important to her as Edward was.
Carlisle Cullen had become her friend.
Edward climbed out first, ignoring his friends as he walked around the front of her truck and opening the door for her. She placed her hand in his, allowing him to help her out. It was something he said straight couples did, which was weird to her. She was more than capable of climbing out of her truck on her own, but she humored him. Just like wearing an engagement ring. If they were going to fake it, they would fake it the right way.
"Hey, guys," Emmett said, clearing his throat.
Bella glanced at Edward, before the two tried to walk past them. Tried, but failed because once again, they blocked their way. "Move."
"No," Rosalie said. "We just want to talk."
"Well, we're going to be late."
"Too damn bad," Alice added. "You seem to think we don't care about you, about both of you, but that's just not true."
"Sure it's not," Edward scoffed, his fingers tightening around hers.
"It's not!" Jasper said. "Dude, you've been one of our best friends since like fifth grade when we started playing football together. It's always been you, me, Em, and Ben. Always."
"Has it?" Edward asked, tilting his head. "If you knew me, the real me, you wouldn't be saying that."
"What is that supposed to mean? How do we not know you?" Ben asked. "I'm genuinely asking."
But Edward simply shook his head. Bella understood how he felt. They would never understand that he was gay, that he craved the feeling of a penis in his mouth, or up his ass. While just the thought made Bella gag, she could respect Edward for wanting to be true to himself.
"Look, we love that you two are together," Angela said. "But you've only just started seeing each other and now you're what? You're getting married? Don't you think it's kind of . . . I don't know, fast?"
"No," they said together.
"Look I'm going to be the asshole and ask. Are you getting married because you're pregnant?" Rosalie asked. "Because you have options, Bella. You don't have to get married."
Bella laughed. "Oh, so the only reason he would want to marry me is because he knocked me up? Thanks, Rosalie. I appreciate that."
"That's not what I said!" she argued. "But did he?"
"No," she replied. "No, I am not pregnant. I love him." she added, swallowing the bile that crept up her throat. "I can't . . . No, I won't live without him. We're getting married, and you can either accept it, or go back to ignoring me. Not like it would be something new."
She glanced at Edward. "I'll wait for you inside. I can't deal with them anymore."
"Me either."
And this time, when they tried to walk between them, they moved and let them by. They may claim to be supportive, but if they knew the truth about them, about their relationships with Carlisle and Esme, would they say the same? Bella knew the answer. After all, being gay in high school was an insult ninety-nine percent of the time.
—S&S—
By the time school was over, Bella's head hurt. Like they had since the day they announced they were dating, their classmates stopped and stared, whispered, and more than once, Bella heard people talk about how she was already showing. It was enough for her to want to fight, but she didn't.
Jessica hadn't come to school, not that Bella expected her. The girl had lost her mind over a boy who had never shown her any type of interest. Bella felt sorry for her, only because she didn't see that she deserved better than crying over Edward and letting Mike Newton use her like a whore.
Mike, of course, didn't miss an opportunity to give them a hard time. He was the loudest of everyone, telling people how he'd seen Edward and Bella having sex in the janitor's closet. Because if Bella was going to let Edward penetrate her with his penis, she would do it at school and in a closet.
When they walked into the house after practice, they found Peter and Garrett sitting in the living room with Esme. Bella felt her shoulders tense, knowing that he'd gotten the results of her father's tests.
"Hey," she murmured, hurrying to Esme and wrapping her in her arms. She needed the comfort her lover provided. "It's bad, isn't it?"
"Yes," Peter said, drawing her attention to him. He frowned. "Why don't we sit?"
"Just tell me."
Peter sighed. "They found a tumor."
Bella sat, bracing her hands on her knees. "A tumor."
"Yes, it's located on the right side of his brain, it's . . . I'm sorry, Bella, but it's terminal."
"Terminal," she whimpered. "He's going to die."
"Yes, from what I've been told, where its placement makes it too difficult to remove, and treatments . . . Well, it doesn't matter, because your father is refusing treatment."
"He is?"
Peter nodded.
"How long does he have?"
"A few months, maybe. Doctors believe the accident he was in caused the tumor to become more aggressive, which is why his behavior escalated the way it did."
"So the tumor made him an asshole?"
"It changed his behavior."
"The tumor is to blame for . . . for all of it? That's what you're saying."
"No, honey —"
"Don't call me honey!" she wailed. "He called me a whore, tried to force me to go out with a boy I hate. He put his hands on me. He wrapped his fucking hands around my throat and told me I was a worthless whore! How can you sit there and say that a fucking tumor is to blame?"
"I'm not!" Peter exclaimed.
"Sweetheart," Esme cooed, wrapping her arm around Bella. "That's not what he is saying."
"Then what is he saying? Explain it to me, love. Explain it to me, please!"
"Just based on the scans I've seen, his blood work, etc. The tumor started growing years ago. Sometimes, a head injury can . . . jumpstart the growth, cause it to grow faster, be more aggressive than normal. The brain is sensitive and it takes years to heal from trauma, and he doesn't have years, Bella."
"He's going to die? You're telling me that my father is going to die?"
"Yes. I'm sorry, but . . . yes."
Bella's eyes closed, causing tears to cascade down her cheeks. "I don't. . . I don't . . . I can't do this right now. I just can't. . ." Scrambling to her feet, Bella rushed out of the house and into her truck.
Her father was going to die, and he'd spent the last month hating her for not being the daughter he wanted.
—S&S—
"Thought I might find you here."
Bella sighed and looked behind her, finding Carlisle standing behind her. When she ran out of the house, she hadn't had a plan on where she would go, but she found herself parked in school parking lot. She'd climbed out and walked across campus and settled on the cement table in the small clearing.
"How'd you know where I was?"
"Edward."
She nodded, watching as he walked over and sat next to her. "Did he tell you everything?"
"Yeah," Carlisle sighed. "Sucks, Bella. It really sucks."
"Yeah, it does," she whimpered, and she felt him wrap his arm around her, nestling her against his chest. "He's my father, Carlisle. My fucking father! You know, my mom never wanted me. She walked out the door without even looking back. But he did. He'd take me to baseball games and watch horror movies with me, even though I'd have nightmares. And then he just . . . he just changed. He wasn't my father anymore. Now I'm going to lose him. I'm really going to lose him."
"You are. I wish I could tell you otherwise, honey, but I can't. But you're not alone. You have Esme and Edward. Me."
"You?"
He nodded. "I care about you, Bella. You're my family, too."
Tears cascaded down her face as she nodded. "Thanks, Carlisle. Just . . . thank you."
"You're welcome." He kissed the top of her head. "You hungry?"
"A little," she admitted.
"How we go grab some dinner? Just us. Maybe get to know each other a little better."
"You'd do that?"
"Of course I would."
"Okay," she sniffed. "Where should we go?"
"There's a little pizza place in Port Angeles that's good."
"Okay, let's go."
—S&S—
"How'd you know you're gay?" Bella asked. They'd been sitting in Panther Pizza for fifteen minutes and were waiting for their pepperoni and sausage pizza to be delivered while sipping on their sodas. "I mean, when did you admit it to yourself?"
"I've always known, but it really wasn't until our parents informed us that we were expected to be together that I told Esme."
"And you've been with other men, right?"
Carlisle sighed. "I have. I'm not proud of my . . . dating history, Bella, but I needed to explore my sexuality, find out who I was, what I liked, what I don't like."
"You discovered that you like to be the more . . . controlling partner?"
He inhaled a deep breath.
"I'm not judging. Trust me, I'm not judging, because I love controlling Esme. When she's on her knees, waiting for me to tell her what I want, is . . . Well, it's a turn on."
"Edward needs controlling. He thrives on it, Bella. I know exactly how hard to push him, how slow to take it. He's young and still trying to figure out what he needs, but I know that he needs me. And I need him."
"And you're not worried about the age gap?"
"No. Are you?"
"A little," she admitted, leaning her elbow onto the table. "I know she loves me, Carlisle, but she's more experienced than I am."
"Is that what you're worried about?" he asked, taking hold of her hand. "Bella, honey, I've seen her with other women, and she . . . she's never looked at them the way she does you."
"Yeah?"
He nodded. "She told me about you when she first met you. Not everything, of course, but that she'd met this amazing, beautiful woman who made her want to be true to herself. The only reason she's been holding back was because she knew I was seeing Edward, knew that our relationship could cause a lot of problems for me. But he's worth losing my job for."
"He is?"
"Yeah, he is."
"Maybe it would be better if we all just left town, you know? Started new instead of pretending we're something we're not."
"We can." Carlisle released her hand. "Just got to convince them."
Bella smiled. "I bet we could persuade them."
He tilted his head back and laughed. "No doubt, honey. But running is only going to take us so far."
Their waitress delivered their pizza and a couple plates. They each helped themselves to a slice, but before she took a bite, she heard herself ask, "Are you prepared for losing your family for him, Carlisle?"
"Yes," he answered immediately. "My parents, Bella . . . if they really loved me, like they should, they would never have forced me to betray who I really am. I love Esme, don't get me wrong. She's my best friend, she was the only person I had for a long time, but we're not alone anymore, are we? We have you and Edward, and you two are all we need."
Bella smiled. "That was smooth. Real smooth, Coach."
"Shut up," he snickered. "Eat your pizza."
"Yes, sir."
After they finished their pizza, Carlisle paid their check and the two headed back to Forks, back to their lovers, back to pretending they were straight. Bella was tired of pretending, though.
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