Howdy dear readers. The fixation continues as I scribble away my weird little sentences for this fic. JOY ATEARA IS LIFE, JOY ATEARA IS WORLD! Quimbry tenderness/angst incoming. Bella reflections incoming. I've been craving cinnamon rolls since I started this chap. Anyway! Here's a nice lil chap that won't make you rip your hair out, I think anyway? ENJOY! TY for reading and commenting as always 3 Makes my day!
Here is the current timeline for Golden Hour, btw. It was jumping around a little bit due to the dual POV, but now we're synched back up in this chapter.
Ch 1-4: August 13th, 2006
Ch 5: August 14th
Ch 6: August 15th-16th
Ch 7: August 20th
Ch 8: August 16th
Ch 9: August 27th
Ch 10: August 27th
Listen if the timeline gets wonky or if I mess things up, don't sue me, I'm writing this solely off of vibes. But nothing could be as bad as Smeyers Breaking Dawn timeline... the 28 day pregnancy haunts me.
--
At long last, you brought the changing of seasons
You are the summer that drove out the cold
You're the summer
Your shining light will lead me steadfastly into winter's cold veins
Your warmth gives me refuge from the frigid air biting my neck
I drown in your radiance
I drown in your radiance
Long since I've felt whole
Long since I've been safe
I feel both in our silence
--
The days were bleeding into each other—so much so that I was surprised to see on the kitchen calendar that it was the end of August already.
Soon, the warmth would trickle away, and the frigid, rainy days would take over. The sky would hide the sun behind its oppressive overcast, and the winter chill would settle in my bones.
I'd grown to appreciate certain things about Forks, like the way the rain made the plants flourish and how the forest was always abuzz, but I could never get used to the bitter cold or the near-constant rainfall. I must've inherited the seasonal affective disorder from my mother.
I thrived in the heat—this was something I knew very young. It was why I avoided it here when I was younger and had Charlie vacation with me in California instead. The sun made me feel normal. Like I was alive. Meanwhile, the cold made me feel trapped and isolated.
Summer was coming to an end, and it felt symbolic in many ways.
In the past couple of weeks, things have felt calm. Suspiciously calm. Edward had actually left me alone as I requested, and none of the Cullens had reached out to me at all. No new rogue vampires were trying to kill me (that I was aware of), and according to Quil, the only person I hung out with now, there wasn't any new drama with the wolfpack.
Aside from the typical horrific nightmares, aching void in my chest, guilt, utter confusion, and feeling of impending doom, I felt…okay.
Another thing aside from the dreary weather I wasn't looking forward to was having to go back to work. Alice or Edward—I wasn't sure whose idea it was exactly—had quit for me at Newton's before the wedding. Initially, I planned to take 2-3 weeks off for the honeymoon, but I suppose it made more sense to quit, considering the very real possibility that I would've never made it back to Forks alive or as myself.
I cringed the whole time when I'd called Mike about getting my job back, especially after he'd witnessed me run at the altar like a coward. But I needed some money now that I wasn't attending college this year.
Mentally, I couldn't imagine college at this time. Also, it was obvious for anyone to see that I didn't get into Dartmouth on my own. Edward had pulled some strings and likely even paid for my full ride. There was no way I could go under those circumstances—I didn't want to take the spot away from someone else.
When I do eventually go to college, if ever, it'll be a school of my choosing, one that I earned to get into.
Right now, though, I knew not to plan too far ahead.
After locking up the house, I idled in the driveway to soak up the sunshine, taking in every last bit of the summer before it faded away in the upcoming weeks. Begrudgingly, I dragged my feet to the hideous Mercedes' and climbed into its cold, pristine leather driver's seat with a deep sigh.
—-
"One second!" Joy called out from inside her home. My knock on the front door was so weak I was surprised she even heard it.
I didn't want to show up at the Ateara's house out of the blue, knowing that Old Quil wasn't my biggest fan. Of course, he had every right to be wary of me, especially now after his encounter with Edward. Thankfully, his car was not parked in the driveway today. But Quil had been asking me to come over, and I figured it was time to finally pick up the wedding dress that had been lingering in the back of my mind.
"Bella! I've been wanting to see your gorgeous face! Come in, sweetie." Joy ushered me through the doorway and into her quaint living room. "Sit, sit. Quil's upstairs in the shower. Hold on."
She shuffled out of the room as I lowered myself onto the couch, fidgeting with my fingers.
The Ateara home was instantly cozy. There was something about the photos covering its walls, the aged paint job, the comforting clutter, the sweet scent of something freshly baked that made me feel safe. I felt similarly in Angela's home, but the Ateara home felt more honest. Here, I didn't have to hide or pretend to live in a reality where the supernatural didn't exist.
Maybe it was validation that I wasn't insane.
Joy's steps were unsure when she slowed back into the room. She held a folded-up black garbage bag with one of my sapphire hair combs on top.
"I'm sorry that I haven't come by sooner to pick this up…"
"Shhh. I understand," she said, placing the bag in my outstretched arms.
Feeling the weight of it, a flicker of dread lingered in my chest for a moment. What was I going to do with it? Hang it up in my closet? Throw it out in the trash? Neither felt exactly right.
Joy sat down at the further end of the couch to face me, the same way she had the last time I was here. She wore a turquoise peplum blouse and dark jeans; her feet were in the same moccasins she lent me.
"There were two of these. Did you happen to see the other one?" I asked, inspecting the floral design on the teeth of the hair comb.
"No, sweetie, there was only one."
I frowned.
"It must've fallen out in the forest. They were a gift from my parents."
The sapphire cast a glittering reflection upon the olive-green walls.
Nobility, truth, and the ability to make wise and good choices.
"That's a lovely gift from them, indeed. We could make Quil scout around for the lost one," she said conspiratorially. Joy's crinkling smile was contagious; I mirrored it despite my slight sadness.
"That's not a bad idea." The sweet smell in the air couldn't be ignored any longer. "Did you bake something?"
Her smile didn't waver.
"Well, I am a mother of a growing wolf, so, yes."
"What is it? It smells amazing."
"Homemade cinnamon rolls. Would you like one?"
"No, no, it's okay; save them for your growing wolf." I laughed, gesturing upstairs to wherever Quil must've been.
Joy swatted her hand as if what I said was ridiculous, rose to her feet, and whirled her way to the kitchen.
The plate of oversized cinnamon rolls she brought back looked incredible. She handed me a napkin and lowered the plate so I could take one. I picked up the smallest one from the batch, yet the amount of icing dolloped on top still made it look big.
Placing the plate on the table, she took one herself and sat back on the couch.
"Speaking of your parents, is your mother still here?"
"Oh, no. She left the day after, I think," I said, tasting the vanilla icing.
"You didn't speak with her?"
"Um, I did, very briefly. We spoke afterwards a few times but her schedule is all over the place. I typically wait for her to call me."
Joy took a bite from the cinnamon roll, wiping the icing off her lips. After she swallowed, she spoke.
"Did she have to go back to work?"
"No, she's a teacher; school starts on the 1st, I believe."
"Oh, I see," she said, semi-perplexed. Her brows furrowed as if contemplating something, but I couldn't imagine what I'd said was so confusing.
"Why do you ask?"
"I, well, to be frank, I'm trying to imagine myself in her situation."
I sunk a little in shame.
"Yes, I know; I mean, I felt horrible that she had to fly out for nothing, essentially. She seemed excited." Renee's beaming face when she'd seen me in the dress lit up in my mind.
"No, no, that's not what I meant. I meant I'm trying to imagine myself leaving my child after they'd gone through something like that. And I can't."
I paused mid-chew, still not quite grasping what she was getting at.
"Of course," she continued, "she did not know the truth about… the groom, right? "
I nodded slowly.
"Regardless of that, you were very, very upset. I am also surprised she didn't go after you to make sure you would be okay."
I swallowed the sweet, doughy bread before I answered.
"Well, my mother knows I work through things on my own; she probably figured I wanted to be alone. I also wouldn't want her to deal with it, so I'm glad she didn't run after me or stay. I would have told her to go home anyway."
"But that's what mothers do, honey. Deal with it all, no matter what it is."
The staircase began to jostle as heavy feet staggered down them.
"Cinnamon rolls?!" Quil called out, running down the stairs into the living room. His black curls were dripping wet, soaking onto the collar of the lavender robe he wore.
"Hey, Bella," he said, unphased to see me. It must not have been my weak knock that notified Joy I arrived, but instead, it was Quil's supersonic hearing.
I waved.
He grabbed the biggest roll off the plate and immediately bit into it, leaving a mess of icing all over his face.
"Finally, you came. Now she can stop bugging me," he said, leisurely trailing into the kitchen.
"Don't even think about it, Quil. Get back here," Joy called out, hovering above the couch and peering around the kitchen.
"I'm getting a napkin!"
"You don't use napkins."
From the kitchen, a door squeaked, followed by a rustling of plastic.
Joy gave up and lowered back into her seat, massaging her temples with one hand.
Quil came back into the room grinning mischievously, and I didn't understand why until I saw the giant chunk of…meat on top of his cinnamon roll.
"W-what is that?" I asked, squinting.
Quil took another large bite.
"Needed something salty with it."
"Joy?" I asked, deeply concerned.
She dropped her hand from her face and looked at her son in disgust.
"Don't ask me, sweetie. I didn't raise him to be like this."
"You guys are so dramatic! It's jerky. Basically, the same thing as bacon, which people, including you mom, love to eat with sweets."
He shoveled the rest in his mouth, swallowing with an audible gulp.
"And he has to wear my robes too; look, is that a stain already?!" Joy said, pointing a finger to the side of the robe.
"No! That was already there."
Joy rolled her eyes, shaking her head.
"See what I have to deal with every day, Bella?"
Quil and I made eye contact, which caused us both to burst out laughing.
"Now, go get dressed; we have guests!"
"But it's just Bella."
"I don't care. Upstairs, now!"
Quil lept upstairs with a few graceful strides that otherwise would've been very clumsy if he weren't a shapeshifter.
There was a brief silence as I finished the last few bites of the cinnamon roll.
Joy turned back to me, and I saw she turned serious again.
"How are you doing, Bella?"
For a reason I couldn't pinpoint, the question made me want to burst into tears. But I kept my composure and crossed my arms tightly against my chest.
"I'm okay. How are you?"
"I am good," she laughed dryly. "I think we both know why I'm asking you."
I looked down in my lap as I replayed the panic attack I had in her shower. Heat flooded my face.
"I'm better. Really," I squeaked.
"Have you been speaking to anyone else besides my son?"
"Um, no. Not really."
"Why not?"
"Because…who else? And I don't need to."
"You know, you don't always have to be so strong."
Again, I wanted to cry.
"I'm not sure strong is the right word to use. You saw that firsthand."
She looked at me in disbelief.
"Bella. Emotions aren't weakness; emotions are human. Quit being embarrassed by them. And what I saw was a young girl who held too much in, who hasn't let herself feel for a long time, and now it's flooding out of her."
I stared at the stairs, hoping for Quil to cut the conversation short.
"Uncross your arms, relax. For once, just relax. No one expects anything of you here. You can just be."
Her words were simple, but they hit me like a truck. I let my arms fall to my sides, but I still couldn't look at her.
"Talking through it is what's going to help you. Look at me, honey."
Unwillingly, I did, but Joy smiled warmly, making me feel safe. Her dark brown eyes were sincere, not filled with pity but with care.
"I'm here for you. We all are on the rez. I know not everyone will be friendly towards you, but they will come around." She shifted her position, crossing one leg over the other.
"They hate me. Old Quil, Embry, I'm sure the rest of the pack. Billy…Jake." I twitched.
"No one hates you. If the pack hated you or saw you as a threat, they certainly wouldn't continue to protect you. They may be frustrated, and they may not understand, but it isn't hate. Quil's grandfather is a tough one to crack. He's a grumpy old man who likes a select few people. Don't worry about him."
"Still, I feel awful that Edward did that to him. And somewhat responsible," I whispered.
"You aren't. The Cullens should know better. No one here blames you for that."
I looked at the small clicking clock on the wall that read 1:24 PM, reminding me I'd better get home before I wasted too much of Joy's time.
"And Jacob certainly doesn't hate you."
What cut our conversation short was not excusing myself from being uncomfortable, but it was a thunderous, deep howl that reverberated throughout the living room.
Both of us sprung up off the couch as a fully dressed Quil came back down the stairs, looking concerned.
"Is that Sam?" I asked.
"Yeah. It sounds like he's close, probably at Emily's. Whatever it is, it's important."
Dark possibilities swam through my mind, but I didn't allow them to stick. I couldn't afford to think anything bad, even though I always had to brace myself for the worst.
"Come on, let's go." He turned the knob of the front door.
"I, are you sure?"
"Yes. It might pertain to you."
"But they may not want-"
"Come on," he repeated, impatiently motioning his hand to the door.
I hesitantly collected the black bag and hair comb from off the couch, sheepishly waving to Joy with my free hand.
"Bye, Joy."
"Bye, hon. Come by again whenever you want."
Quil and I stumbled out through the rickety front door onto the dirt path to the street.
"Let's drive; it'll be quicker," I said nodding to the parked Mercedes.
"Okay, yeah."
When we pulled up to Emily's house, Embry and Paul were about to walk through her door until they saw us. Embry stopped in his tracks, jaw clenched.
Paul, of all people, tried to calm him down. I was happy that I was unable to hear their conversation.
"I'll wait in the car," I said after I parked and turned the engine off.
"No, ignore him. Please don't tell me you're actually afraid of Embry."
I said nothing and unlocked the doors.
"Last week, you told me your ex used to grease your windows when he would sneak into your room after knowing you for like a week. And I guess all those near-death experiences are nothing compared to Bry, who woke up on the wrong side of the bed."
It was weird to hear Edward be referred to that. It sounded like such a normal human term to use. But was that all he was to me now? After everything? An ex?
Paul went into the house, shaking his head while Embry stayed put, arms crossed.
"It's not that I'm afraid of him; I just don't want to step on any toes. I don't need to go in, just tell me what's going on after."
"I don't want to be the one to-." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Bella, just come on."
But I still didn't move, feeling Embry's glare through the thick glass of the windshield.
"Like I said, this likely involves you or…you know who."
"Fine." I sighed as I exited the car, staring at my feet as we walked across the lot to Emily's front steps.
"What is she doing here, Quil? Are you for real?"
"Bry, give it a rest." Quil pushed past him as if he were an annoying barking dog. I towed closely behind him, unable to make eye contact with Embry as we went through the front door.
Inside, the rest of the pack was splayed about in Emily's warm living room and kitchen. The air felt thick as all eyes landed on me, conversations stopping.
"She was at my house, my mom had some things to give her. I figured this might pertain to her, so," Quil said, mostly to Sam, whose eyes were tight and unreadable.
For a second, I was relieved when Sam nodded until I realized that meant it likely did pertain to me.
As Sam was about to speak, Leah popped off the couch, glaring at me, Sam, then Quil.
"Are you fucking kidding me? Pertains to her? I think you meant to say caused by her. Did you forget that almost every bad thing that happens around here just so happens to be because of her?"
Embry stepped out from behind us and went over to Sam. "She needs to leave."
"Bro, who cares at this point," Paul groaned, rubbing a hand down his face.
"Yeah, it's not like she's not clued in. Besides, seems like she left those leeches in the dust," said Jared, who sat at the kitchen table with Paul and Seth.
"Hi, Bella!" waved Seth, to which I awkwardly returned.
All eyes stayed on me and I wondered why on Earth Quil was doing this to me.
"Now that she "changed her mind" about them, we should just accept her with open arms? Just a few weeks ago, they were going to break the treaty and turn her. She wanted that. Are you all that stupid?"
Everyone began to respond and speak over each other until I stepped forward, clearing my throat. I looked up from the floor and into each of their eyes for a few seconds as I spoke.
"Leah's…not wrong. I've made a mess of things, time and time again. I mean, it's embarrassing how much I've screwed up, really. I'm truly sorry for how many times you've been dragged into anything to do with me. You guys have every reason to dislike me, but I will always be grateful for all the times you saved my life. Again, I'm sorry."
Emily stepped out from behind the kitchen, her beautiful scarred face was calm and collected. "Thank you, Bella."
"It's our job, don't apologize!" Seth called out.
"Oh, give me a fucking BREAK-," Leah spat.
"Enough, Leah!" Sam commanded. "We don't have time for this. Ignore that Bella is here and listen."
Leah stepped away, her face dripping with disgust, and slunk back onto the couch.
"Are you all done now?"
Silence.
"Good." He stood next to Emily, who looked at me apologetically. "I spoke with Billy. Jacob called."
The relief nearly knocked me to my knees, and I gripped Quil's arm to steady myself. My heart hammered rapidly in my chest.
He was alive.
I hadn't allowed myself to honestly believe he wasn't. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to function. But hearing confirmation that he was alive felt like a million-pound weight lifted off my chest.
"He didn't say where he was and called on a blocked number. We haven't been able to hear him because he's been in his human form. He doesn't want us to look for him and says he isn't coming back home."
"That goddamn idiot! He couldn't have called sooner?" Jared belted out.
"Jesus Christ," muttered Embry, who walked past us, deflated. The front door slammed behind him.
"You guys are surprised?" Paul said.
"Thank god he's okay!" Seth said.
Leah only scoffed.
Beside me, Quil heavily sighed.
And I felt the room spin.
He was alive.
Knowing for certain made my body react in a way I didn't expect.
I started hyperventilating. All the built-up worry I carried inside me poured out with every gasping breath.
"Bella, what-" Quil tried to ask.
"I-I'm sorry, I need to go outside." After stabilizing myself as best as possible, I bolted outside, welcoming the fresh air in my lungs.
Sitting on the front steps, I tried to calm my breathing.
Joy was right. So much had been stored inside me, so much anxiety and dread that it practically gushed out of me now. Completely out of my control, tears flowed along with the heaving breaths.
He was safe.
The door behind me opened and closed. Quil sat down next to me, rubbing my back.
"This is great news, Bella, why're you crying?"
I felt my body shake as I bawled in my sweaty palms, feeling so much heaviness lift off of me.
He was okay.
"N-no, I know. I-I'm so relieved. So, so relieved."
"Me too. Me too. But God, is he an asshole."
We both laughed.
I sat with Quil by my side for a few minutes, grateful that no one else came out after him.
"What kind of car is that?"
It was Embry who spoke. I jumped, quickly turning around to see him leaning against the house, eyeing the Mercedes.
I sat upright, composing myself.
"It's a, uh, Mercedes Guardian." I tried to sound like I wasn't just crying, which was useless.
"Weird. Never seen one before."
He hopped down the steps and walked across the dirt lot to get a closer look at it. Quil rose up off the step to follow him.
"Hey," Quil said, but I could barely hear it from the low tone of his voice and the distance now between us.
Embry looked at him with an intensity I couldn't quite pin. For a second, I questioned if the pack was able to communicate telepathically in human form, even though I knew that wasn't the case.
"What?"
"You'll relax now? You gonna stop thinking of running off?" Quil asked, and Embry groaned, trying to back away, but Quil caught his arm.
"You need to sleep, have you seen your face?"
Embry looked better than the last time I saw him a couple of weeks ago, but he still looked exhausted and unnaturally pale.
"I haven't had time."
"Okay, well, now you do."
"Whatever," he shrugged, looking down at Quil's hand still wrapped around his bicep.
"You know you can talk to me, right? I'm right here."
"Are you?"
"God, Bry, can you stop?"
Embry muttered something I couldn't hear.
Quil matched his volume, and I could only hear snippets of their conversation.
"…hanging around her like she didn't…"
"…Jake would want…" Quil said.
"…traitor…"
"…maybe if you spoke to her like she wasn't some…"
I gave up trying to make out what they were saying, knowing that the conversation likely would've upset me anyway.
Beside me, on Emily's porch, was a large pot of gorgeous red and yellow dahlias. The petals were so vibrant and striking I found myself sucked into their unique patterns. I remembered that dahlias were my favorite, something I hadn't thought about for a while.
When I worked at the plant nursery a few summers ago back home in Phoenix, I often got lost in the flowers, especially the dahlias. As silly as it may sound, I remember being amazed that each plant required different maintenance. Some were more fragile than others, some would die even if you did everything right. But regardless, the flower was always worth trying to save.
When they did die, I'd appreciate them more. I became better and better at my job, cautiously tending to the new ones, ensuring they had the best chance at surviving and thriving. It was always gratifying stepping into the nursery and seeing flourishing, bright petals and leaves everywhere.
I gently brushed my fingers through the dahlia leaves, leaning down to inhale their fresh scent.
"Are you okay, Bry?" Quil's voice was back to a normal volume, and I could hear him again.
Pulling away from the flowers, I observed Embry's face, curious if the question had the same strange effect it had on me when Quil's mother asked me before.
To my surprise, it softened him. His posture relaxed, his face less irritated.
He nodded, keeping his eyes closed. Quil slowly raised his hand to move a stray hair from Embry's face. If I looked away for a second, I would have missed how his fingers lingered for just a little too long, the way they hovered over Embry's face.
But when he opened his eyes, Quil shoved his hand into his pocket before he could see.
Now, what was that?
"I'd better get some sleep. Now that I can."
"Yeah, yeah, go do that." Quil stepped away, rubbing the back of his neck. Embry didn't seem to notice his flustered expression.
"See ya," Embry said, and before he took off, we made eye contact for a few seconds—his eyes were blank and dark.
After he left, I unlocked the car and silently walked over to it with Quil. I didn't mention their conversation or the tension between them on the car ride.
—
Later that night, I felt an itching paranoia. This wasn't unusual, as I've constantly felt like I was being watched because oftentimes I was. It wouldn't go away.
No one was in my closet, my bathroom, or under my bed. I even checked on Charlie in his room just to make sure nothing or no one was lurking.
When I lay in bed, I couldn't sleep.
Then, I remembered.
The stupid security cameras.
I never thought the baseball bat that Charlie stuck under my bed would ever be useful, but I suppose now was the time to use it.
Opening my squeaky window, I stuck my head out to gauge whether or not it was worth trying. Grabbing the handle of the bat, I slowly inched it through the window until the end hit the lens of the camera. Leaning myself slightly further out, my armpits digging into the sill, I swung the bat against the body of it. With a few hard hits, it became loose at the base, merely dangling by red wires.
I continued to hit them until, eventually, both cameras clattered to the ground, completely smashed.
Breathless, I dropped the bat on the floor of my room, but it didn't sound against the wood since it landed on top of the bagged-up wedding dress that I had haphazardly tossed.
Resting my cheek against the open window, I let the cool, almost-autumn air hit my face. The brilliant moon hung low and massive in the sky, resting just before the trees. There was a comfort in knowing that it could unite people; we could all witness it at the same time. We could see that its beauty didn't belong to us, that we were lucky to see it at all.
It instantly grounded me in my small room. I felt insignificant, but not in a negative way, more so in a way that there were things so much bigger than me, there was so much more out there. So much I haven't yet seen.
Was Jake looking at the moon tonight, too? Did it look the same to him, wherever he was? Was it as vast and bright? Did it bring him the same sense of comfort?
Was he actually okay?
Of course, I wanted to know where he was, but I think all I truly cared about was that he was out there, somewhere. Anywhere. Maybe the moon was what would connect us from now on. I could be okay with that.
If where he was made him happy, then I was happy too. He deserved it. He deserved to be far away from the mess that has become life in Washington. From the mess that has become…me.
When I crawled into bed, I fell asleep quickly. For the first night in a while, I didn't have any nightmares.
Instead, I dreamt of dahlia flowers and Phoenix's open skies and enormous cinnamon rolls and the luminous moon and Jacob's sunny smile.