Summary: Edward, a political dissident, is a world champion in Tetris. Bella, too, is pretty good at Tetris… a traumatic kind of Tetris. The kind that makes her agree to a deal when she hears that he'd be fired within a month, voiding his H1-B visa and giving him a grace period of 60 days to find another job to stay in the US. Roommates/Fake marriage/Olderward. Slow burn, AH

A/N: Thank you all. I'm so lucky to have you here.

Tetris
by Anton M.

2: To Help a Friend


Thursday, November 21
Three weeks earlier

"Why me?"

Wearing winter's clothes that didn't fit quite right, Bella pushed up her almost-round glasses and slid her damp hair inside her scarf. For as long as Edward had known her, she'd been obsessive about her cleanliness, always showing up freshly showered to their volleyball practice and never leaving with dry hair. She wore her hair in a pony tail, made her words count, and dedicated her social media to animals.

Bella spoke her mind unless she was faced with a topic that shut her off. The disjunction between her casual boldness and her vulnerability often took Edward aback, but when Bella hit him with one of her unicorn smiles, he forgot reason.

But, most importantly, she hadn't run to inform the authorities of his offer. Instead, two big, inquisitive eyes met his, and Edward was relieved that she didn't reject his proposal outright.

"I trust you."

She squinted. "Why?"

Edward pulled Bella on the side of the trail before a racing bicycle brushed past them so close that the cyclist grazed Edward's elbow. Wind ruffled his hair.

"Fucking idiots," the man cursed, flashing his middle finger.

"We are literally on the grass next to the trail, asshole!" Bella shouted before she unraveled her scarf and looked up at Edward. "Bet you feel real warm and fuzzy with how welcoming the locals are, huh?"

He felt the warmth of her small waist in his palms before he remembered to let go of her.

"That was just small talk for Moscow."

Her eyes lit up with humor but she didn't reply.

Glancing back and forth on the Big Dry Creek Park Trail to make sure they weren't in danger of being run over by another cyclist, Edward returned his hands in his pockets, unwilling to admit how nervous he felt about his offer. It should've been a big deal to screw over the US government, and it was, were it not for the alternative.

Bella observed him before she returned her gaze on the Rocky Mountains in the distance.

"This was not quite how I imagined being proposed to."

Edward pursed his lips, ready to apologize for his business-like proposition when Bella nudged him.

"Chill. I've never imagined being proposed to, so whatever you did would've qualified," she continued, glancing around them before she repeated, "Why me?"

Edward ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "I've known you for five years. I trust you. You keep to yourself, at least when it comes to social media, which works heavily in our favor if you agree. You're currently single and I heard—"

Bella stiffened. "Heard what?"

Eager to soothe her, Edward hovered his hand on her back before pressing it gently against her shoulder, suppressing the annoying burst of tenderness that ran through him. He had chosen her partially because he'd never allowed himself to think of her like that, and today was certainly not the day to discover that there was something there for him.

"Angela mentioned you'd do anything to move out of your parents' house," he said in a low voice. "Nothing else. But I know you have student debt and more awaiting if you continue with a graduate degree. I'll cover it."

Relaxing, she assessed his face with a calculating gaze. "If you're so rich why won't you just buy a visa?"

He returned his hands in his pockets. "EB-5 requires an investment of 1.8 or 0.9 million in a US company. I have savings but I'm no oligarch."

"That's a shame."

Edward laughed.

"How much does a financial analyst make, anyway?"

"Me? 80K, give or take."

Bella's eyes widened. "Holy shit that's nothing in Denver at your age."

"H1-B is no walk in the park. Being underpaid is often part of the deal."

"But aren't you, like, forty?"

Relieved by her candidness, Edward smiled but placed a dramatic hand over his chest. "Ow."

"Sorry. I just meant that you're… experienced." Pushing up her glasses, she gave him a sheepish smile. "How old are you?"

"37," he replied with a wry smile. "I'll buy you a used car if you pretend I don't look a day over 30."

"A used car?" she repeated, a hint of a smile glinting in her eyes. "Aren't you a charmer."

"Have you seen the prices of used cars lately?"

"Touché." Annoyed by the summer feel of the winter day, she unzipped her puffer jacket. "What happens if I say no and you can't find anyone else? Suicide by seven bullets in the back of your head?"

Edward laughed so hard he had to stop walking, but since his laughter was silent and he turned away from her, Bella backtracked with fast-paced apologies.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I have fucked-up humor sometimes. I'm sorry. I know it's serious."

"Don't worry about it," Edward finally replied, straightening, grinning as he untied his own scarf. "Had I known you loved black humor I might've proposed the moment you set fire to your ex."

Bella's mouth twitched before she gave him her widest, warmest smile, and it took everything in him not to beat his heart into proper rhythm again.

Fuck if he wasn't fucked, but it was too late to backtrack now.

All the other women in his circle were either his colleagues—all too aware of his H1-B visa—married, or untrustworthy. Bella was a shot in the dark, more volleyball buddy and acquaintance than a close friend, but he trusted her, and they got along.

"Was I close though?"

Preferring not to linger on his past, Edward said, "Add a taste of throwing myself out of the twenty second floor after those bullets and you have a winner."

"Fuck." Bella's voice had a low, disturbed edge to it. "I'm basically responsible for your death if I say no."

"No." Edward faced her and took hold of her shoulders. It felt new and strange to touch her so much, but while they weren't close friends, they were casual friends, and he needed her not to feel an ounce of guilt if his gut feeling was correct.

He'd been a reckless, idealistic idiot in his twenties. He'd felt the unfairness of his government deeply, fought for justice with a vengeance and temerity that cost him his family, and while he regretted little, he knew he couldn't have Bella's guilt on his conscience—even if he wouldn't survive long enough to feel it.

"No," he repeated, softer, releasing her shoulder to tilt up her chin and lock eyes with her. "No, Serve. Whatever I did in my past, none of it is on you. None at all. It's not a foregone conclusion that the worst happens but if it does, you hold no responsibility. I'll walk away myself now if you feel like it would be on you. Just say the word."

Bella stared at him for an uncomfortably long time before she bumped Edward's scarf with her own and pushed up her glasses.

"Nobody will believe we're together."

"I know I'm old—"

"Not that. I mean, yeah, everyone will explode at the news and shit on our age gap, but, more because…" Bella trailed off and waved a hand in front of him, glancing at him with amused shyness.

"What? What's the problem?"

"I mean, you look like—" Smiling and shaking her head, she motioned at his jeans and peacoat. "While I look like—" She shrugged, took hold of her slightly-too-big jacket and pulled it side to side.

"I don't understand."

"I can't believe I have to spell it out to you." Bella swatted him with the end of her scarf and laughed. "Kill, every few months, our volleyball team gets an extra few girls just dying to hook up with you, pretending they are so, like, passionate, and, like, athletic, and, like, totally play volleyball all the time. Like, totally."

Edward groaned.

"They disappear after you ignore them, but man. Girls buy you drinks when we go our to a bar. You and I don't exist in the same wavelength."

He scowled. "That's not true. I've seen plenty of guys buy you drinks."

"For guys to buy girls drinks you only have to have a pulse. The other way around though… damn." Bella smiled. "It's okay. I'm not mad. Age notwithstanding, guys like you don't make passes at girls like me. I don't have the Instagram face or the flirting skills or the whatever. It's fine. I'm just worried that this mismatch will raise more eyebrows than our age gap ever will. You'll have to convince your friends I give you blowjobs on the daily, or that I do something dirty and specific in the sheets that you love so much you'd totally overlook that I'm painfully ordinary next to you."

Edward coughed a laugh, admiring her candidness while feeling taken aback by it. "I'm pretty sure they'll agree that I got the better end of the deal, here."

Bella stifled her smile and scoffed but didn't continue the topic. Instead, she gave him a small, twinkly-eyed smile.

"So when's our big day?"

Edward's lips parted, registering her words before he lifted her up and circled her around, feeling lighter than he had in years. Bella's feet dangled in the air as she laughed into his neck.

"Wow, aren't you easy to please."

"Easy to please?" he repeated, putting her down, his face almost cramping from the width of his smile. "Serve, I don't want you to do this to save my life—but you would effectively be doing just that. Don't you want to sleep on it? Take a few days?"

"I was game the moment you explained why you needed a green card," she replied with a rueful smile. "Plus, I'm a giant fat gold-digger. A sugar daddy offering me a place to stay for the next five years at no cost? Paying off my student debt? In exchange for, what, not being on the riveting dating market? I mean, damn. I'll have your babies if you ask nicely."

Edward felt an irrational surge of affection at her easy-going words.

"Your commute to Fort Collins will be longer."

"By, what, ten minutes? Hardly a sacrifice for an infinite upgrade in living situation."

That was saying a lot since Bella hated I-25, doubly so on Fridays, but at least she didn't have to take it to the Springs.

The pair slowed their walk as five professional-looking cyclers raced past them. Bella melted at the sight of a jogger's husky, and the runner nodded at her but the two passed. Edward accepted Bella's water, but even still, he struggled to wipe the smile off his face as he returned her bottle.

"I have two conditions," she continued, her eyes following the husky as she tucked the water bottle back in her backpack.

Still in a light-headed daze from her acceptance—as she so casually saved him from becoming cannon fodder in Ukraine—Edward said, "I can transfer you your tuition money before our wedding so that we can write a prenuptial agreement and you can be assured that I won't back down on my word."

"Not that. Don't do that. It'll look suspicious if anyone ever needs to dig into our records. I trust you."

"Fair point," Edward replied, frowning. "Your conditions, then?"

Bella gave him a long look full of meaning. "I understand if this is not possible, but I need to move—yesterday. Today. The second you have room for me."

Edward breathed a sigh of relief at the simplicity of her request, but her big, vulnerable eyes told him not to pry further.

"Tonight is perfect," he said, hoping he hadn't left his apartment a mess. "I'd be happy to drive and help—"

"No!" Bella shouted before she cleared her throat. "I mean, it's fine. I don't have much and I'd rather not bother you."

"It's no bother—"

"I'd like to do it myself," she interrupted, resolution in her eyes and tone more than in her polite words.

"As you wish. And your second condition?"

Bella slid her palms up and down her scarf, deep in thought.

"Whatever is in my power to give you I'll give you, you know that. If you want all my savings instead of having me cover your tuition and monthly allowance, I'll do it. You hold all the power in this relationship, Serve. Just ask."

"I have no interest in your savings."

He knew it, too. Because if he wanted to effectively buy himself a wife, he would've had options. But he wanted to marry a woman he could trust. No actual gold-digger would've touched the word with a ten-foot pole, much less joked about it.

"Then…?"

She stared at his scarf. "It's a bit embarrassing."

For a crazy split second, Edward considered that Bella wanted him to have sex with her or something equally tempting, but he shrugged off the thought.

"I'd like to…" Bella brushed her scarf over his arm but the fear in her eyes was unmistakeable. "I'd like to take your last name."

Edward nearly stumbled on the path.

"Really?"

Bella cringed. "I know it's a strange request. I just… I loathe mine. I've been itching to change it since I was nine. I'd like to keep yours even after we go our separate ways if that's acceptable to you."

Edward felt an odd sense of intimacy at the thought of her becoming Mrs. Masen.

"It's the least I can do," Edward replied, putting casualness into his tone that he didn't quite feel. They had a mountain of issues to discuss, a wealth of questions to answer, and a plethora of practical matters to figure out, and yet, her acceptance to his proposal barely even registered. Were they really doing this?

They locked eyes. Fear, disbelief, and a glimmer of surreal excitement reflected back at Edward. Feeling strangely like a high school boy with his first crush, he slipped his hand into her small, freezing one, an action that felt more intimate than it should've.

Startled, Bella stiffened, but she relaxed, squeezing his hand, and the two shared a surreal, conspiratory smile.

"I guess I've been secretly crying on your shoulder every time my ex and I took yet another break," Bella improvised with a light in her eyes that lifted a weight off Edward's shoulders.

"I mean, what can I say? We've fought our attraction for years," he shot back, earning a shy but brilliant smile that did things to Edward he was not ready to admit to.

A/N: Thanks for giving this a shot! I adore your thoughts :)