27
Edward gripped the top of her arms, and while Bella expected him to pull her closer to return the kiss, he surprised her by pushing her away. Gently, of course, but still away. When she tried to move back to him, he tightened his grip on her arms and held her away.
"Edward," she started, but she sighed when he released her and put several feet between them. "This is what you want. You want me, right?"
"Of course I do, but . . ." Edward shook his head. "Not like this."
"What do you mean not like this?"
"I mean . . . You're not ready to be all in with me, Izzy." When she started to argue, he put his hands up and said, "You're not ready, and I won't . . . I won't be my brother's replacement."
"I don't want you to be his replacement."
"But you don't want me for me, either. You want me because I'm safe. Because I'm the closest connection you have to Carlisle, Izzy, and that's not fair. Not to me, and not to Little Bit, either."
"Leave my baby out of this."
"I can't leave him out of this, Izzy. You're fucking pregnant."
"I know!" she cried, dropping her hands to her stomach. "I know, Edward, I fucking know!"
"I'm sorry. I am . . ." Edward took a deep breath. "I don't want you to be with me and one day decide I'm not the man you want. If I have you, I will never, ever want to let you go again."
"I don't want to be let go again, Edward. I don't. I'm telling you I want to be with you. This is what you wanted, right? You wanted me to feel the same as you."
"But you don't," he murmured. "You don't, Izzy. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone, but you are not in love with me."
She couldn't deny it. "So, what are you saying? You don't want to see me anymore because I'm not ready to declare my love?"
"I want nothing more and you know that Izzy, but I can't . . . I can't until you're ready. Really ready."
"Edward, I —"
But before she could utter another word, the doors opened, and they looked over to find Ben and Angela walking in. They stopped, their eyes shifting from Edward to Bella and back. Not wanting to embarrass herself more than she clearly already had, she gave Edward a look before wrapping her arms around her torso and walking away.
He called out for her to stop, to let him explain, but the last thing she wanted was to be humiliated further. She'd put herself out there for him, giving him what he wanted, and he'd rejected her.
She was truly alone.
—RtW—
"Izzy. Izzy, are you listening to me?"
"Yes," she lied.
Dr. Sanders sat across from her in the same brown leather chair as usual while she was on the sofa. Their time was almost up, but she hadn't spoken much. She hadn't spoken much in the last four weeks and three days, either. He asked the same questions each time she attended one of her sessions. How are you feeling? Have you been sleeping okay? Do you have anything you want to talk about?
She didn't have answers to those questions. She wasn't okay; she hadn't been sleeping, and the only person she wanted to talk to was avoiding her. Edward hadn't responded to her texts and refused to answer her calls since that day in The Oasis. She'd even gone to see him at the bar, but the doors were locked, and he refused to open them when she knocked.
Of course, she hadn't made much effort to speak to anyone else, either. Her father came over twice a week, and they sat in awkward, uncomfortable silence while they ate the dinner she had thrown together. More than once, he suggested she move back home and let him take care of her and Little Bit. But after she all but kicked him out, he stopped mentioning her moving in, and instead, they sat in silence.
Jasper tried to get her to come over for dinner and to talk her into going Christmas shopping with him, but she refused. She ordered gifts online, and when she sat in her father's living room and watched the girls open their presents, all she could think about was who Edward was spending Christmas with.
Even Emmett and Rosalie had come by, and she pretended she wasn't home. The only person who hadn't attempted to see her was the one she missed more than she thought she would have.
"Izzy."
"I'm sorry," she murmured, biting the inside of her lip. "What'd you say?"
"I asked if I'm wasting my time with you."
"Oh."
"Am I?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "I don't . . . Are you married?"
"Yes."
"How long?"
"Almost twenty-eight years."
"You have a good marriage?"
"We've had more good years than bad."
Bella nodded.
"Do you think you and Carlisle had a good marriage?"
"I don't know," she confessed. "It wasn't always easy, especially in the beginning. He was in the academy, and I was so focused on my career. There were times when we were lucky if we saw each other for an hour, but I never . . ."
"You never what?"
"I never thought he kept secrets from me. But he did. His sister. Why didn't he trust me enough to confide in? Did he think I would stop him from helping her?"
"Would you have?"
"I don't know! He never gave me the chance to decide for myself, did he? And then he just . . . he died and left me alone to pick up his mess. It's not fair. It's just not fair."
"Life isn't fair."
"I know that. I do."
Dr. Sanders tapped his pen against his yellow notepad. "Do you think he would want you to grieve like this for him, Izzy?"
"Probably not."
"Why?"
"I . . ." She paused before saying, "He wouldn't want me to put my life on hold because of him, especially with the baby coming. But I don't know how to live without him. I don't."
"You've been living without him for over five months, Izzy."
"No, I haven't. I . . ." She sighed, her hand sliding along her belly. "I tried, but . . ."
"But what?"
Instead of answering, she simply shook her head. He wouldn't understand why she found herself missing Edward more than she missed her dead husband. How could he when she didn't understand?
—RtW—
Bella wasn't ready to return to her little house in Woodbury after her appointment with Dr. Sanders. So instead, she found herself wandering through a small flea market on the northern side of Minnesota. She wasn't looking for anything in particular, just wasn't ready to be alone again. She wanted to go to Edward, but he'd made his feelings clear.
He didn't want her anymore.
"Izzy."
Turning, she was surprised to find Garrett a few feet away. His hands were filled with plastic shopping bags. He tilted his head to the side as he smiled and said, "I'm surprised to see you here."
"Why?"
"You just don't seem the flea market type, I guess."
Nodding, she turned away. "Wasn't until we moved to New York. You never know what you'll find with these vendors. Sometimes, only junk. But then, every once in a while, I would find a piece of art or jewelry someone had spent hours making. The time and dedication to their craft was . . . Anyway, I'd buy stuff all the time. My husband used to laugh at what I brought home. Why do we need a lamp shaped like a chicken? We don't, I'd tell him, but it's funny. Eventually, he'd surprise me with a trinket that he found. He was full of surprises."
Garrett shifted the bags into one hand, reaching for her, but stopped when she moved backward. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she lied. "How are you?"
"Busy. Esme and I spent Christmas in Kentucky with my folks, though we left early."
"Why?"
"My folks, they're good people, Izzy, they are. They just don't understand why I don't want the same boring life they have. They think I'm wasting my time trying to become a chef. They said I needed more stability. And they blame Esme for me not coming home more often, too, I guess."
"Oh. I can understand that."
"Yeah?"
Bella nodded. "My husband and I left Woodbury for New York and never looked back. Never."
"Why?"
"That's a long, complicated story."
"I like long, complicated stories."
She shook her head.
He sighed but then said, "Esme told me she's tried calling you a couple of times. Said you never answered and didn't call her back."
"She did, huh? Noticed she hasn't cashed my check, either."
"Not from a lack of trying on my part. She doesn't like being dependent on people."
"She didn't seem to have a problem being dependent on my husband when he was footing her rent, though," Bella quipped before she walked away from him.
"Whoa, whoa, that's not fair," Garrett argued, falling in step with her. "She thought she'd earned a scholarship through a foundation. She worked her ass off to be independent, Izzy, only to find that someone's been pulling strings behind her back."
"You're right. I'm sorry."
Garrett grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop. "She misses you."
"Misses me?" Bella rolled her eyes. "She doesn't even know me."
"She wants to. Hell, I want to know you."
"Why? Because my dead husband used to be her brother? Guess what, Garrett? He's dead, and I'm all that's left. Maybe she should give her other brother a call."
Bella had barely taken two steps when Garrett said, "She has."
She looked back. "She's talked to Edward?"
"I wouldn't really call it talking, but yes. He's . . . Well, he's almost as hard to get a hold of as you are."
Bella sighed.
"Esme's birthday is next week, Izzy. I'm throwing her a party on Saturday night. It would mean a lot to her, to both of us, if you were there."
"A party? I don't think that's the best idea."
"Why not? She doesn't have a lot of family, Izzy. Her mom . . . Well, the woman is batshit crazy, and don't even get me started on her piece-of-shit father." Garret paused before saying, "Birthdays have always been hard for her, so I'd like this one to be better."
"Garrett . . ."
"Please, Izzy?"
"I'll think about it. I'm not making any promises, of course, but I'll think about it."
"Do more than think." He shifted the bags into his other hand. "I have to run. My shift at the pub starts in an hour. The party is at her place; it starts at seven. Don't need to bring anything other than yourself."
Giving her a look, Garrett turned and walked away.
—RtW—
"Where are you going so dressed up?"
Biting the inside of her lip to keep from rolling her eyes, though why that worked she couldn't explain, she shrugged and said, "To Ro's. Her momma invited the two of us over to help prepare for the spring season at the club," she lied. "What are you doing here?"
"Do I need a reason to come see my daughter?" Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow.
She'd just finished dressing in a pair of black leggings, boots, and a royal blue sweater when he knocked on her front door.
Though she wasn't sure why, she had found herself getting ready for Esme's birthday party. Another mystery was why she felt it necessary to lie to her father about where she was going. Though, to be honest, Charlie hadn't hidden his irritation that her husband had kept his half-sister a secret. In his world, Bella would be better off with Esme or Edward in her life.
Another five days had passed, and she hadn't heard from him, and it wasn't for a lack of trying.
"No, but seeing as I have plans . . ."
"Fine, fine. Lunch tomorrow? Please?"
"Okay, we can have lunch tomorrow."
"Thank you. Jay, Alice, and the girls are coming, too. Just letting you know ahead of time."
"Thanks. I appreciate it."
"You okay, honey?" Charlie placed his hand on her shoulder. "If you don't want to go with Rosalie, I'm sure she'd understand. We can order pizza and watch the Hallmark Channel."
Bella almost smiled. "I'm fine, Dad. Just . . . just a little tired. Lunch tomorrow, though. I promise."
Charlie clearly wasn't convinced, but he left anyway. Bella gathered her bag, phone, and keys before setting the alarm system and heading into the city.
Forty minutes later, she parked across from the brownstone with the bright purple door. There were half a dozen cars parked in front, and she could hear the music as she approached the door. She knocked and looked around, only turning back when she heard the door opening.
Garrett grinned as he waved her inside. "Glad you came, Izzy."
"Thanks," she murmured as she stepped inside.
He led her up a small flight of stairs, and into a large living room. Esme was standing next to a sliding glass door with two blond women. The first was almost as tall as Garrett. She had long, wavy hair and bright blue eyes. She had her arm around the other, who was closer to Bella's height and build, minus the pregnant belly.
"Oh, my God, Izzy, you're here." Esme placed her beer on the top of the entertainment center before she rushed over. And in a move that surprised even her, she threw her arms around Izzy. "I didn't think you'd really come. Garrett told me he invited you, but . . ."
"Yeah, I'm sorry," she whimpered, bringing her arms up and returning the hug. "I'm just so sorry I haven't called you back. Things. . . I don't know. Things have gotten complicated, I guess."
"It's okay. You're here now." Esme pulled back, hooking her arm in with Bella's as she led her over to the two women she had just been in conversation with. "Kate, Heidi, this is Izzy."
"Oh, the Izzy?" Heidi asked, lifting an eyebrow.
"Yeah," Esme said, cringing a little as she looked over at Bella. "Heidi and Kate are in medical school with me. I kind of, sort of, vent to them a lot about things."
Bella nodded. "It's fine."
"We're sorry to hear about your husband's death," Kate said, wincing when Heidi nudged her in the ribs. "What? We are."
"You don't need to remind her," Heidi quipped. But before anyone could say anything else, Bella turned and walked away.
"Izzy!" Esme called out. But instead of giving her the chance to make things better, Bella walked through the living room, past a couple of guys who looked like bodybuilders, and into the kitchen. However, she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Edward leaning against the counter, talking to a woman with long, silky-looking black hair, creamy tan skin, and dark eyes.
His eyes met hers as the other woman placed her hand on his chest, his expression widening. "Izzy."
But once more, she turned and hurried out of the kitchen, past Esme, Garrett, and their guests, and down the short set of stairs to the front door. Edward grabbed her arm at the same time she yanked it open, both gasping when they found themselves face to face with the one person neither had ever wanted to see.
Peter Cullen stood there on the stoop, his beady eyes shifting menacingly from Edward down to Bella and back again.
Thank you for all the AMAZING reviews! Big shout out to Sunflower Fran for cleaning up my mess.
