Katinki graciously edited this story.
Chapter 30
I clear my throat and say, "Hello, Mr. Cullen."
For a fleeting moment, Edward's face falls. He draws a quick, shaky breath before rearranging his features into the usual, composed "Mr. Cullen" expression. When he speaks, his tone is neutral, polite to the point of detachment. "Hello, Bella. Good to see you."
I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this—him saying my name out loud and me reacting to it so intensely.
His speech is just how I remember it from the rare occasions I heard Mr. Cullen speak—a perfect example of classic General American, educated and articulate, but so different from Edward Masen's refined English. And yet… the sound of his voice knocks the air out of my lungs. Warmth and longing surge through me like an electric current, and I have to look down, willing myself to get a fucking grip.
But it's so hard. Practically impossible.
What was I thinking, coming back to a job where my ex works as the boss of my boss, and expecting him not to affect me?
Of course, the fact that he knows my name, theoretically, still proves nothing.
Maybe he's just one of those old-school bosses who memorize all their employees' names. I'm sure they still exist, though they must be on the brink of extinction. But if that's not the case… does this mean he actually knows and remembers me—as me?
Before I can stop myself, I blurt, "You know my name?"
He lets out an amused, humorless chuckle and shakes his head.
"I certainly do," he replies wryly. Then he gives me a pointed look. "So… how was Norma?"
"Um, pretty good, actually…" I distractedly begin, and then the meaning of what he just said finally penetrates my clouded brain. I sharply inhale and stare at him with wide eyes. "So, I didn't dream it all? Edward?"
I search his face, and with horrifying clarity, it dawns on me that, despite everything that happened between us, I desperately want it to be him.
Like I said, some people are just masochists.
Suddenly, his jawline softens, and the brightest, happiest smile spreads across his face.
In turn, it lights up something within me, too.
This is Edward Masen.
Even if he's no longer mine, even if it hurts like hell simply looking at him, he's here and he's alive.
And that's a far better outcome than if I'd stayed with him and let things unfold according to his deal with Aro.
It was all worth it.
Edward exhales in what seems like relief. "No, you didn't dream it all. I wasn't certain if you would remember me from… then. I'm glad you do."
"Me too," I say quietly. "And I wasn't sure that all of that really happened. That you were you… and that you still remembered me. I mean, it's been a long time… for you, that is." I struggle to steady my voice.
"Yes. It's been a very long time," Edward says gently. "I'm glad that you're back. It's honestly such a relief. We weren't sure how it would work." He rakes his fingers through his hair in that heartbreakingly familiar gesture of his. "You were in London for five months. We half-expected Isabella Dwyer to wake up at the Seattle Opera instead of you and then spend an equal amount of time here. But… that didn't happen."
"Oh! Right." That catches me off guard. "I hadn't even considered that possibility. "What do you mean by we?"
He hesitates for a second. "Um, well, Carlisle and I, and also…"
"Oh!" I cut in, a little overwhelmed. My range of exclamations needs some serious work. "How is Carlisle? Is he still around?"
Jeez, Bella. Who asks that? Carlisle's an immortal vampire, for Christ's sake! Unless something drastic happened, he should be around… somewhere.
On the other hand, I tell myself, if this is really Edward Masen, he already knows to expect no better from you, so there is no need to worry.
"Very much so, and he looks forward to seeing you." There's a hint of reluctance in his voice. He probably doesn't want to resume too close a relationship between his family member and his ex-fiancée—well, that's understandable. "Only if you want to, of course."
"Of course, I do," I quickly reply. "I miss him, and I need to thank him." Despite the ache in my chest, I flash Edward a wide, perky smile.
This feels like a safe territory, and I make a mental effort to capitalize on that.
After all, we're old acquaintances, right? Very old. That's what we do when we meet—discuss our (equally old) friends, relatives, and other acquaintances.
"So…" Edward continues as we exit the elevator on the first floor and walk toward the main doors. "How do you feel? Any leftover dizziness?" Abruptly, he steps in front of me and anxiously studies my face. "Carlisle told me that you were sick before you traveled back." His voice cracks and I glance up at his face just in time to catch an expression of utter dread.
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
"I–"
"I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you. I'll never forgive myself." He practically whispers those last words.
I shrug dismissively, even though inside I'm reeling. "I'm fine, really. It's all good now. And you couldn't have possibly done anything even if you had stayed."
He lets out another faint, bitter chuckle and closes his eyes for a moment, slowly shaking his head. We're still standing in front of the main entrance, and it hits me that people are staring. Not at me, of course, but at Edward. Some even lean toward each other, whispering without bothering to be subtle.
Heat rises to my cheeks, and I quickly say, "Listen, I was just heading out to grab a sandwich from around the corner. It was a pleasure…"
"Do you mind if I keep you company? We need to catch up," he says matter-of-factly.
Predictably, my blush intensifies. I can practically feel it shifting from my go-to "Baby Pink" to "Burgundy Bliss," a shade I mistakenly purchased and couldn't return. Eager to get away, I nod and step through the automatic doors.
Edward walks by my side in silence as we head to the sandwich shop. He keeps a polite distance while I order my usual turkey avocado panini and a cappuccino to go. When I step aside to the corner to wait for my order, he glances around and waves to a table outside.
"Would you like to have your lunch here? You still have 42 minutes left of your lunch break." His lips pull up into his signature adorable smirk, and I say, "Yes," before I even have a chance to think if it's wise to spend time with him like this.
Old acquaintances, I remind myself as I grab my food and drink and follow him outside, where the weather has cleared just enough to make a lunch outdoors seem like a good idea.
I'm a grown woman, after all! I can behave normally around my ex, right?
My supernatural, beautiful-as-god CEO of an ex, also known as the Love of My Life.
Challenge accepted!
Inwardly shaking my head, I take the first sip of my cappuccino and moan. Alistair's coffee was good, but he didn't have an espresso machine, not to mention a milk frother. This is pure heaven.
Edward gives me a funny look and averts his eyes while I desperately rake my brain trying to start a conversation.
"So… catch up?" I finally say in a forced cheerful tone. I even add a giggle for a good measure, while silently congratulating myself on projecting a far more convincing façade than I'd dare to hope for. "It's so strange to hear all these modern expressions from you. And you speak like a born and raised American now. How did that happen? Did you lose your British accent on purpose?"
"Not exactly. It was more about wanting to blend in. Carlisle and I already stand out as it is—"
That you do, I think to myself and give him an exaggerated eyebrow waggle. He laughs quietly and rolls his eyes at my antics.
"You know what I mean. Anyway, drawing even more attention because of our accents would've been unwise."
"I know! Sorry for teasing you. So, tell me… anything? How have you been? I tried—"
It's probably not very smart to admit to cyberstalking your ex for the whole weekend, but hey, my circumstances were extraordinary. More than anything, I was trying to find proof that I wasn't crazy.
"I tried to google you, or rather Edward Masen the musician last night, and I couldn't find much. Why is that? What happened?"
He sighs. "As you can imagine, thanks to technology, life has become a bit less comfortable for our kind over the last few decades. We have to closely monitor and control the information about us that's available online. Luckily, we have the resources to do so." He clears his throat. "Another member of our family handles those matters for us. Whatever you find online is there because we allow it to be. We carefully erase anything that could pose a risk of identification or exposure."
"Another member?" I ask, confused. "Is that Rosalie? I hope she's okay. I read something horrible about her."
"Rosalie is fine," he assures me. "And I didn't mean her. While you were absent, four more of our kind joined our family. Rosalie is one of them."
Four?! My heart pounds loudly, and Edward blinks.
"Are you okay?" he asks, worry thick in his voice.
Damn vampires and their super-hearing.
"I'm fine," I assure him a little louder than necessary. "Glad to know that Rosalie joined your family… but then again, she was always close to you… you guys. Um, who else? If it's okay to ask," I add hurriedly and hide my blushing face behind the excessive wrapping paper of my panini.
Truth is, I don't want Edward to see how disconcerted I am by the fact that a bunch of strangers have become his family, while, I, well… I'll always be just his ex.
And dang, it hurts.
I wonder what kind of relationships they have. Edward specifically. Yes, I remember all too well that I'm supposed to be his mate, although the whole idea of mating with a human was indeed unclear, so maybe both Edward and Aro were wrong. But if being with me is off the table, then Edward's free to be with anyone, isn't he? As Aro said, mating is rare, and it doesn't mean a vampire has to live like a monk for eternity. I always thought that Edward and Rosalie would make a perfect couple. Actually, better her than some unknown vampire who might be a—
"Bella, you can ask me anything," Edward says softly, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. "The other three are Rosalie's husband, Carlisle's wife, and another of our kind who found us while seeking more civilized ways of living. But that's a really long story, and I don't want to keep you here forever."
Say what?!
Rosalie and Edward are not a couple? Both she and Carlisle found their spouses?! And who's the fourth? Is she Edward's wife, or girlfriend, or whatever?
"Um, it looks like I've missed a lot," I chuckle, aiming for a carefree tone. It lands closer to hysterical. "At least tell me about yourself then. You left…" My stomach uncomfortably twists, and I force the words out. "You left for America. How did that go? Did you tour or just settle in one place and perform there?"
Edward is silent for a few seconds. "As a matter of fact, I quit playing soon after I arrived here. I guess, the place just didn't do it for me."
"But… why? Wasn't there some impresario to arrange a series of concerts for you? Did he go back on his word?"
Oh no… What if Edward just made it all up, and there wasn't anybody waiting for him in Philadelphia?
"I fulfilled my contractual obligations to Monsieur Pernauld. But that was it. It was time for Carlisle and I to change our identities anyway." Edward's tone is clipped, and I get the distinct feeling that he's not keen to linger on this period of his life.
"I see," I say quietly, not wanting to seem like I'm prying. "What happened next? Did you stay here in the US?"
"We did, for the most part. Europe wasn't attractive for either of us anymore. Rosalie, who joined us shortly after, had even less desire to see London any time soon, if ever, but that's her story, and she'll tell you herself. She has a lot of respect for you, do you know that?" He smiles warmly, but I can't tell if the smile is meant for me or Rosalie. "Honestly, the first fifty, maybe sixty years, were a blur. I'm not sure what I did all that time."
He shoots me a mischievous wink as if hinting at some grand adventures and distractions, but there's no genuine sparkle in his eyes. So, I don't really buy it.
Nor do I call him out on it.
"In the late 1880s, Carlisle and I decided it was time to see the world, so we began to travel extensively. Carlisle worked as a doctor wherever he could, and I wanted to contribute as well. So, I earned a medical degree and completed the necessary training to assist him. We spent years on missions in South America, then in Northern Africa, the Middle East, and later even in Australia. Those were good times for me—my mind was always occupied.
"Eventually, we returned to the US and settled in Ohio. Soon after, Carlisle met his wife Esme, and Rosalie met Emmett. We all lived together, two mated couples, and I. Fun times." He laughs again, though the sound of his laughter has an edge.
"I'm very happy for them," I say sincerely. "It's quite rare to find your mate, right?"
I wince, cursing my word vomit.
Edward just nods. "Despite being mated, Carlisle could never stay in one place for too long. When the First World War began, and later the Second, we volunteered as medical workers. That experience was both humbling and eye-opening. Don't get me wrong, it was incredibly hard and horrific, but in a strange way, I miss those years."
"I'm so proud of you both. I would love to hear your stories someday." Attempting to lighten the conversation, I smile and tease him, "But tell me, how did you go from being covered in blood and grime at a makeshift hospital to wearing an Armani suit as the CEO of one of the largest companies in the US?"
"That was Carlisle, again, but also you." I stare at him in astonishment, but Edward just grins and slowly shakes his head. "He wanted to tell you himself, so don't look at me like that."
"That's unfair!" I whine, but he's unrelenting. "Okay, so you're now making health and beauty aids, and just to be clear, you're exceptionally good at it, but what about music? Edward, you are a world-class musician! Like, one in a billion! It's…" I want to say, "Such a shame", but I bite my tongue. "What about Rosalie? Does she sing?"
"No, unfortunately, she doesn't," he replies somberly.
"Let me guess, she'll tell me about it herself," I say wryly, and sigh. "Okay, just give me one last thing, and I'll go back to my desk. Two things, actually."
"Of course, go on."
"First of all, was me being hired at Cullen Platt a coincidence, or did one of you somehow orchestrate it?" I study his face. "Not that I'd be mad if you arranged that because I really, really needed a job at the time, but I'm curious."
He shakes his head. "You were hired without any, not even minuscule, assistance from my side. That was a pure coincidence—or maybe fate. Mark Bradley needed an admin as soon as possible, and the company was willing to hire someone without experience. That's something I've learned post-factum, by the way. At the time, I was abroad."
He goes quiet.
"Abroad?"
"Yes. I made sure that I stayed on a different continent from the moment you were born. Until half a year ago."
"Oh. But why?"
"I promised you to stay away, and I kept my word. Another factor was my fear that staying in the US might somehow interfere with or alter your future, although Carlisle always doubted it was even possible. Knowing what you told me about your parents, friends, and that excuse for a man, James, I was terrified I'd accidentally—or deliberately—interact with them… or even with you, and in doing so, compromise your future. There was no me in your narrative until six months ago when you were transferred to Marketing, and I didn't want to take any chances."
"I never thought about that… But it makes sense. Thank you." I'm completely thrown off by this revelation. "So, what did you do while you were away?"
"Some soul-searching, mostly." He chuckles. "What's the other thing you wanted to ask?"
Hmm… I might be completely off, but I can't shake the feeling that I'm not the only one trying to project a convincing façade here.
Is that what exes do after they meet centuries later?
I take a cleansing breath. "Edward, listen. I don't want this to linger, so I'll just ask now. Are you… Is the company planning to let me go? Because things are bound to get awkward, and I don't want them to. I'll start looking for a new job right away, but I might not be able to find one quickly, and I honestly doubt that Tanya will give me a glowing letter of recommendation. The problem is I need a job—you know, to pay my bills. So, if you don't mind, can you give me a heads-up on what you're going to do and when? A colleague told me that he'd heard Tanya and you mention my name in a conversation this morning. Am I fired?"
Something between horror and hurt flickers on his face.
"No, no… why would you think that? Absolutely not! You're not fired. We would be happy to have you for as long as possible. Please don't worry about it." He pauses and then continues in a much softer voice. "But if you think that this is going to be awkward, and if you feel like you need to find a different job, I'll understand... No hard feelings," he adds with a small smile.
"Oh," I say for the umpteenth time today. "That's very kind and generous of you. Thank you."
"It's my pleasure." His eyes train on me. "Bella, I realize that what happened between us… it's literally been days for you. Your desire to have nothing to do with me is perfectly understandable. One word of yours, and you'll never see me around.
"But just keep in mind that I've had almost 200 years to—what's the appropriate word for it—process what happened, and believe it or not, I now understand you infinitely better than I did then."
His Adam apple bobs as he shifts his gaze toward the busy street in the distance.
"What I want to say is that it doesn't have to be awkward. The person I was in the past, with you, I wouldn't want to be around him myself. But I think, or better I'd say, cautiously hope, that I'm a new man now, and I intend to give you all the space and support you need to thrive. At Cullen Platt or elsewhere."
A huge lump rises in my throat, and for a moment, I can't breathe.
Damn it, Edward, you're not making it easier. Do you have to be so freaking nice?
"You said that vampires don't change," I say, forcing a half-joking tone while silently praying to every deity out there that my tears don't fall.
"Maybe we're just slow."
He flashes me his best grin, and this time, it shatters my already broken heart all over again.
It's only as we part ways at the elevator that I suddenly realize he successfully avoided saying anything about the fourth addition to the Cullen family—a vampire I had instinctively assumed was female.
Maybe Edward thought that from my perspective, we just broke up, and it might seem to me like he moved on too quickly.
Always so considerate.
XXX
When I step into the open space on the 11th floor, it's immediately clear that something is off. No one is working. Instead, the room hums with whispers and tense conversations.
I lean toward Garrett and ask, "What's going on?"
It's like he's been waiting for my cue.
Without a second of hesitation, Garrett rolls his chair over to my desk with a sly grin on his face, making it clear that he's in possession of the juiciest of juicy pieces of gossip.
"You will not believe it!" he whisper-yells. "Tanya quit."
"What?" I blink at him, struggling to process the words. "Why? When?"
Tanya always seemed like the last person who'd ever leave this company. This whole day is getting increasingly bizarre.
"Half an hour ago. Effective immediately," he replies, leaning in conspiratorially. "But that's not all. Mr. Cullen took it upon himself to step in as the interim marketing director. He's in Tanya's office right now."
I stare at him, completely dumbfounded. "No, that's impossible. I just, um… saw Mr. Cullen downstairs near the elevator."
Garrett snorts, clearly enjoying my confusion. "You probably mean Edward Cullen," he says with a smirk. "I'm talking about the founder of the company, Carlisle. He's there with his…"
My jaw practically hits the floor. I barely have time to think that even Garrett doesn't deserve to endure my coffee breath when Tanya's office door swings open, stealing everyone's attention.
None other than Dr. Carlisle Masen pokes his head out, and his face lights up the moment his eyes land on me.
"Bella!" he calls. "Finally! Get in here."
.
.
.
