TWENTY TWO
"She's absolutely stunning," the woman says from the tv.
I curl up in my chair eating my bowl of cereal as I watch them discuss me. Playing footage of my interaction with Lily.
"How come you never told me I look so fat when I lean down," I glare at Angela.
Angela rolls her eyes, not bothering to look up from her phone. "Because you're not fat, you drama queen. And I'm not here to feed your insecurities."
I turn back to the TV, where they're now dissecting my outfit choice. Apparently, the blue dress was "inspired" but my shoes were a "misstep." I shovel another spoonful of soggy cereal into my mouth.
"You know," Angela says, finally glancing up, "you don't have to watch this stuff. It's just going to make you crazy."
"I'm not crazy," I mutter, "I'm informed. I'm reading the little news sentences along the bottom of the screen."
Edward waltzes in and his eyes narrow on me watching the TV.
"There was a fall in the dow jones," I say to him.
"We both know you don't give a shit about the stock market," he takes the remote out of my hand and turns the TV off.
I let out an indignant squawk as the screen goes black. "Hey! I was watching that!"
Edward sighs, running a hand through his perfectly tousled hair. "Baby, we've talked about this. Obsessing over what they say about you isn't healthy."
"I'm not obsessing," I protest weakly, but even I can hear the lack of conviction in my voice. "I'm just... staying informed."
Angela snorts. "Yeah, because you really needed to know that your left eyebrow was 'on fleek' but your right one needed work."
I feel my face heat up. "They didn't say that."
"No," Angela admits, "but they might as well have, with how nitpicky they're being."
Edward sits on the arm of my chair, his proximity making my heart skip a beat despite my annoyance. "Look, I know this is tough. But you owe them nothing."
I sigh, setting my bowl down on the coffee table. "I know, I know. It's just... hard to ignore. They're talking about me constantly."
Edward's hand finds mine, his thumb tracing soothing circles on my skin. "That's because you're newsworthy. You're doing amazing things, and people are noticing."
"Yeah, amazing things like tripping over my own feet and spilling coffee on the Prime Minister," I grumble.
Angela laughs. "Hey, that was the highlight of my week. I've never seen a politician look so flustered."
Despite myself, I crack a smile. "It was pretty funny."
"See?" Edward says, squeezing my hand. "Focus on the good stuff. Like how you've inspired young girls all over the country."
I lean my head against his arm, feeling some comfort.
"Angela can you leave the room. I'd like to have sex with my boyfriend," I look up at him lovingly, "he's saying really sweet things and I want to reward him."
Angela's eyes widen and she lets out an exaggerated groan. "Gross! TMI, you two." She stands up, grabbing her phone. "I'm out. Try not to break anything this time."
As she leaves, slamming the door behind her, Edward chuckles softly. "You know, there are more subtle ways to get some privacy."
I shrug, a mischievous glint in my eye. "Subtle isn't really my style. Besides, it worked, didn't it?"
Edward slides off the arm of the chair and onto the couch beside me, pulling my legs up into his lap, "It certainly did," he murmurs, his lips brushing against my ear. "Now, about that reward..."
I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "I think I promised something along those lines, didn't I?"
EDPOV
There's papers all over the dining table. Edward's mother frowning at them.
"They've dug into every corner of her life," she sighs, "she waitressed for Hooters in her first year of college?"
I feel my jaw clench at my mother's words. "So what if she did? It was a job. She needed money for school."
My mother looks up at me, her eyes filled with concern. "Edward, darling, you know I adore her. But the press will have a field day with this. They'll twist it into something sordid."
I run a hand through my hair, frustration building. "They can try. But she has nothing to be ashamed of. She worked hard, paid her way through school. That's admirable."
"Of course it is," my mother says softly. "But you know how they are. They'll make it sound like..."
"Like what?" I snap, my patience wearing thin. "Like she's not good enough? Because she didn't grow up with a silver spoon in her mouth like I did?"
My mother's face falls. "That's not fair. Edward, she's beautiful. There's no denying that. I worry this will be too much for her."
I feel a surge of protectiveness wash over me. "She's stronger than you think. She can handle this."
My mother sighs, shuffling the papers into a neat pile. "I hope you're right, dear. For both your sakes."
I'm about to respond when I hear the front door open and close. My heart rate picks up, knowing it's her. She walks into the dining room, her face lighting up when she sees me.
"Hey," she says, dropping her bag on a chair. "What's going on? You look so serious."
She notices my mother and stills. Dropping into a polite curtsey.
"Your majesty. You look beautiful this morning," she says.
My mother smiles warmly, though I can see the tension around her eyes. "Thank you, my dear."
There's an awkward pause, and I can see her eyes darting between my mother and me, sensing the tension in the room. "Is everything okay?" she asks hesitantly.
I open my mouth to reassure her, but my mother beats me to it. "We were just discussing some... concerns about recent press coverage," she says delicately.
Her face falls slightly, and I feel a surge of anger at the world that constantly tries to tear her down. "Oh," she says softly. "The Hooters thing?"
My mother looks surprised. "You know?"
She lets out a small, humourless laugh. "Of course I know. It's all over Twitter. Apparently I'm a 'royal harlot' now."
I clench my fists, fury rising in my chest. "That's ridiculous. You worked a job to pay for school. There's nothing wrong with that."
She shrugs, but I can see the hurt in her eyes. "It doesn't matter what I did or why. They'll spin it however they want."
"Why don't we spend the evening at a friends? Get away and socialise properly," I suggest, "Emmett is hosting a small dinner."
My mother interjects, "I think it's a wonderful idea. A night out with friends might be just what you both need."
I can see the hesitation in her eyes, so I step closer, taking her hand in mine. "Come on, love. Emmett's parties are always fun. And it'll be a small group, just my closest friends."
She sighs, then nods slowly. "Okay, you're right. It would be nice to get out of here for a bit."
I smile, relieved. "Great. I'll let Emmett know we're coming."
Bella sits between Rosalie and Alice. Angela had opted to remain at the estate with claims of a headache.
Rosalie hounds Bella about secrets of Disneyland.
"Do you have to do classes? How do you get to be that perfect?" she gushes.
Alice rolls her eyes. "Rose, she's not actually a Disney princess. She's dating a real prince."
Bella laughs, a bit uncomfortably. "Trust me, it's far from perfect. There's a lot more scrutiny and a lot less singing woodland creatures than you'd expect."
Rosalie leans in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "But surely there must be some perks? Fancy parties, beautiful dresses, meeting celebrities?"
Bella takes a sip of her wine before answering. "Well, yes, there are some amazing experiences. But it's also a lot of pressure. Every move is watched and judged."
"Like the Hooters thing?" Alice asks, then immediately looks like she regrets it.
Bella tenses slightly, but forces a smile. "Exactly like that. Did you know they're now analysing my chicken wing serving technique? I worked there for only three months. I quit because a job came up at a fancier restaurant down the street."
Emmett, overhearing the conversation, chimes in with a booming laugh. "Hey, I think it's awesome. A future queen who knows how to serve up a mean plate of wings? That's the kind of monarchy I can get behind!"
His attempt at lightening the mood works, and Bella finds herself genuinely smiling. "Well, I don't know about 'mean.' I once dropped an entire tray in a customer's lap. He smacked my ass and it made me jump. That's exactly when I quit."
"Oh no," Jasper suddenly whispers looking at his phone.
"What?" I ask him.
I feel my stomach drop as I look at the photos on Jasper's phone. Bella's mother, Renee, is surrounded by a sea of flashing cameras and microphones, her face a mixture of confusion and distress. The headlines are already starting to appear: "Royal Girlfriend's Mother Ambushed!"
I glance over at Bella, still chatting with Rosalie and Alice, blissfully unaware of this new development. I catch Emmett's eye and nod towards the kitchen. He understands immediately and loudly announces he needs help getting more drinks.
Once we're alone in the kitchen, I show him the photos. "Shit," he mutters, running a hand through his hair. "Poor Renee. She has no idea how to handle this kind of attention."
"I know," I feel my heart tighten.
If I were normal she wouldn't have to put up with this.
"Oh fuck," I hear Bella gasp.
"What is it?" Alice asks alarmed.
"My mother," Bella's looking at her phone, fearful.
I make my way to her, closing the distance in a heartbeat before pulling her up from the couch.
"Hey. I'm going to take care of this," I reassure her as best as I can.
"How can you? This is my mother. She didn't ask for this," she shakes her head tearful, "Edward. Is this worth it?"
My heart stops at her words. The room falls deathly silent, all eyes on us. I can see the regret flash across Bella's face as soon as the words leave her mouth, but it's too late to take them back.
"Bella," I say softly, trying to keep my voice steady. "Let's talk about this privately."
She nods, tears welling up in her eyes. I lead her out of the living room and into Emmett's study, closing the door behind us.
For a moment, we just stand there, the weight of her question hanging between us. Finally, I break the silence.
"Do you really think this isn't worth it?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Bella lets out a shaky breath. "I don't know, Edward. I love you, God, I love you so much. But this... it's not just about that is it? It's about more than us. My choice to love you is disrupting so many people."
"A choice? My love wasn't a choice. It was destined. I loved you at first sight," I stress to her, "you are worth a short time of discomfort for a lifetime of love."
Bella's eyes soften at my words, but I can still see the uncertainty there. She takes a deep breath, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.
"Edward, I love you too. So much. But this isn't just a short time of discomfort. This is our life now. My mom is being hounded by paparazzi. My past is being dissected for the world to see. And it's not just me - it's affecting everyone around us."
I step closer, gently taking her hands in mine. "I know it's hard. Believe me, I do. I've lived with this scrutiny my entire life. But we can get through this together. We can protect your mom, we can weather the storm of public opinion. It won't always be this intense."
Bella looks up at me, her eyes swimming with tears. "But what if it is? What if they never stop?"
"Baby," I whisper," "please trust me."
"I do trust you," she moves to wrap her arms around my neck, "I trust you with everything in me. I just don't trust them."
I pull her closer, feeling her warmth against me. "I know, love. I don't trust them either. But we're stronger than they are. We have each other, and that's what matters most."
Bella buries her face in my chest, and I can feel her tears dampening my shirt. "I'm scared, Edward. I'm scared for my mom, for my dad, for everyone I care about. They didn't sign up for this."
I gently tilt her chin up, meeting her tear-filled eyes. "You are the strongest person I know, Bella. You've faced every challenge with grace and humour. And you don't have to do this alone. I'm here, always."
She gives me a watery smile. "Always?"
"Always," I affirm, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "We're a team, remember?"
She nods and snuggles in closer to my chest.
