A/N: ummm hi! not sure if anyone remembers me after all of this time... but i'm still here... and this is a short story i wrote in the midst of trying to figure out what to do with TPSIC (my seemingly abondoned LONG story) and, guess what! i figured out what I need to do, and it's simply that I have to rewrite the entire thing
ok not really but I am reworking it and then, hopefully one day soon, COMPLETING IT, so I'll post the whole reworked thang when the time comes (if anyone is out there and still cares a lil bit about that fkn story that i love too much)
anyway... thats it. this might become a kind of series (maybe idk i got a lot of shit in my brain/google docs rn) hope u enjoy :-)
.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*
Jacob swears this is the last time he'll bother me until the morning.
"I just don't want you to be nervous. My parents love you, ya know?"
"I know, babe," I grumble, exhausted and wishing he would just let me fall asleep. "I'm not even nervous anymore. I'm excited." I yawn – exaggeratedly, desperate for his questioning to relent. "Goodnight, Jacob."
I roll onto my side, pulling the blankets up high against my chin and let out a deep breath when Jake finally lets his head drop to his pillow beside mine.
.*.*.*
The morning comes too quickly, and the churning in my stomach reminds me how big of a fat lie I told Jacob last night; I am nervous. Downright scared, actually. Or maybe terrified is the better word.
It's not that Billy and Sue aren't kind-they are, exceedingly so. And I know them well, considering I've only been seeing their son for eight months, so my fear seems unfounded to a guy like Jake. A guy like Jake can't imagine how scary it will be for a girl like me to spend a week with his entire family… on their Private Yacht.
Yet only two hours later, I find myself standing on a dock, facing a gigantic boat named Suzanna.
"After my wife," Billy tells me.
"Beautiful," I respond, trying to be gracious without gawking.
Jake's parents welcome us onboard with glasses of champagne with cherries in them, which I'm appreciative of. I don't realize I've chugged it until Jake lifts an eyebrow. I feel myself blushing during the entirety of the tour Sue takes me on, which takes a long time – the word yacht is not an exaggeration.
"Jake will show you to your bedroom," Sue tells me as we make our way back to the bar on the top deck. Billy and his son are still there, their champagne glasses still half full. "Settle in. Rebecca and her date should be here soon-then we're off."
Rebecca is Jacob's sister that I've yet to meet. I've seen photos – framed photos of a tanned woman in lavish gowns at upscale events. Jake, despite the wealth he grew up with, does not come across as such. His sister appears to be the opposite. The idea of meeting her, the overwhelming anxiety of trying to impress someone so above my social standing, is frightening.
I suck in a deep breath and force out a smile as Jake takes my hand, leading me back inside and down a long hallway to our bedroom. I return his kisses, allow him to pull my shirt off and wonder if he notices the way my body is trembling as he crawls on top of me. I wonder if he thinks it's because of him. I wonder if he knows how far out of my league I am here.
Still, I am compliant in our love-making – if you can call it that. I open my legs for him. I moan at the right times. I smile and kiss him when he comes before me, because he apologizes and because I know I'm not in the headspace to get off, anyway.
I hope I can relax for even a moment on this boat. I pray I didn't make a mistake.
.*.*.*
We hear the ruckus of luggage coming aboard, a sure sign Rebecca has arrived. I decide to take a shower before we head out to greet them, hoping the warm water will help wash the insecurity off my skin. It doesn't. I let my wet hair fall around my face in waves. I slide on a sundress from Old Navy, feeling the way the cheap cotton swishes against my body while I walk out to the main deck. I wish I had the foresight to buy something nicer, though I know my wallet would suffer for it.
Jake would have paid for a shopping spree, had I allowed him to. Now I'm wondering if his offer came with an ulterior motive – one that involves me not embarrassing him with my ratty clothing.
It's too late now. I suck in another deep breath and try to let the warm sun on my face lift my spirits just enough to pull a half-genuine smile on my face.
.*.*.*
"There they are!" Sue calls from the back deck – the one with an infinity pool hanging off its rear. She's gathered at the bar with Billy, a beautiful young woman – Rebecca – I recognize her from the pictures, though her blond hair is dark now, matching her brother's - and a tall man, familiar in his stance, but I can't see his face as he gazes off the balcony towards the open ocean to our East. I wonder if he's as anxious about this endeavor as I am.
"Rebecca – this is Jacob's beautiful Isabella," Sue introduces me to Rebecca, who reaches out a dainty hand. I take it between two of mine.
"And this, Bella," Sue continues, reaching out a hand to goad the tall man towards us. He turns with a smile that dies on his face the instant he sees me. My ears start ringing – I can't hear the rest of Sue's introduction. I can't tear my eyes from his face to read her lips, but I know how the sentence ends.
"This is Edward."
.*.*.*
"Edward Cullen!" Miss Cope screams his name, as is status quo. This time it's because she caught him hitting the joint I stole from Mom's medicine cabinet.
"Snuff it out!" I whisper yell, waving my hand around to swat the incriminating evidence out of his his. He easily dodges my attempts. Miss Cope is getting close, so I'm trying to hold back my laughter and avoid any additional trouble, but I can't help the giggle that slips out.
"Mr. Cullen," our homeroom teacher huffs, finally reaching us. We're perched on a tree stump at the smoker's corner… which is technically considered school property but… Edward's never really subscribed to that rule. "Not only are you smoking on the premises, but you're smoking an illegal substance this time?"
"How would you know?" He asks. Again I'm stuck sucking down a chortle. Mrs. Cope eyes me momentarily before turning her attention back to Edward.
"And you're roping Miss Swan into this?" She ignores his goading question, instead using me as her target against him.
It works, just as she knew it would. "She didn't do a god damn thing, Michelle, so leave her the fuck out of this."
And Edward knows just how to get under her skin. She dated his father back when we were in middle school and – they're on a first name basis, now, according to Edward.
Not according to Miss Cope.
"If you want even a dream of seeing graduation," the teacher spits through clenched teeth, "I recommend you and your little crony get out of my sight. You're suspended – the both of you."
Edward springs from the ground in only the way a teenager can do. "I said leave her the fuck out of this," he growls, hands clenching into fists at his side.
"Edward…" I try to stop him, but it's too late.
.*.*.*
Dad is infuriated. Mom's having a bad day, so she hasn't come out of her room to defend me from the onslaught of verbal assault. I shrink into the couch and hold back tears that are only brought on from anger.
"You are not going to see that boy ever again, do you hear me?" He screams.
I know it's bullshit. People have been trying to keep us apart for our whole lives. They never succeed.
"Whatever, Dad," I grumble, choking back a lump in my throat. I will not cry, I will not cry.
Then he spits words between clenched teeth that send me over the edge and into a puddle of blubbering mess.
"Edward's expelled – fucking finally-and God knows he's not coming anywhere near my property again. Hope you had your chance to say your goodbyes, Bells, because it's over." He walks away, leaving me to sob into the couch, but not before adding, "Oh, by the way, you're grounded."
.*.*.*
I sneak out my window around one in the morning, once I finally hear Dad's snores. It's a long walk to Edward's, but I have a feeling I won't need to go all the way there.
I'm right. Sitting on a bench at the park on the corner of my block is Edward. I expected him. He looks forlorn, staring at the ground, but when the sound of my footsteps reach him and he looks up his face explodes into his sunshine smile – my favorite one.
"I'm sorry, baby," He breathes into my hair after pulling me onto his lap. I tuck my face under his chin and breathe in his smell – he's sweaty from skating all the way here – and savor the feeling of his arms winding around me.
"My dad is so fucking pissed." I grumble into his shirt. "I'm grounded. And suspended for three days, by the way."
"Well, they fucking expelled me." He says into my hair. "Fuck them, though. I'm fuckin' out of here."
I look up into his angry eyes and watch them melt into love as they scan my face.
"I'm hoping you're coming with me," he adds.
.*.*.*
I think I'm going to faint. I sway on my feet and I really, really think I'm about to pass out.
"Bella," my name leaves his mouth in a whisper and suddenly my dizziness isn't out of panic but instead a sheer swoon. I'm thrown back in time to high school, to Long Island suburbs and real, true love in deep green eyes.
"You know each other?" Rebecca's squeaky voice snaps me from my reverie, but I'm still stunned into silence; I don't know how to respond.
Edward picks up the slack after a beat. "We went to high school together."
His eyes scan my face and I see his mouth twitch up. I'm sure the words understatement of the year are burned into my forehead.
"Well that's kind of fabulous, huh?" Sue asks with a grin, no doubt savvy to the new discomfort in the air and wanting to squash it.
Fabulous indeed.
Jake comes out of the bathroom, then, patting his stomach as if to say I just took a huge shit in the way only a man could. He beelines towards me and his sister's new boyfriend and I find whatever opportunity I can – the bathroom will have to do – to excuse myself.
.*.*.*
Eighth grade has to be the worst year to start a new school. It just has to be. Next year would have been better – at least everyone in ninth grade is starting over for High School. By the eighth grade all the middle schoolers have established their friends and their enemies. There's no wiggle room – the status quo has been set.
Of course, it's even worse when you're a mousy little girl from Upstate. My school had a hundred kids in my class – this one is nearly five times the size. I'm unequipped to deal with the hubbub of a packed hallway. I'm terrified, and it shows.
I begged my parents to stay. "Just one more year, Dad. Please," but it was fruitless.
"Mom needs help that we can't get up here," he told me, and I knew that he was right, even at thirteen years old. Mom was getting crazier by the day. She went from cooking nightly to barely getting off the couch. She spent her time flicking between news channels and booting up the desktop computer to research conspiracy theories.
She needed help, so I bit my tongue and packed my things and moved to the suburbs.
It was just as bad as I anticipated, if not worse.
It wouldn't be so bad if I just didn't have any friends. I didn't, but on top of that I'm the butt of every new joke, the topic of the popular kid's gossip. They make fun of my hair, my clothes and my voice. Even the nerds have something to say, gaining ammo on test days where I'm surely bound to fail.
School is much harder here.
I suffer every day. The weekends are no better; with no friends, I'm stuck at home with my crazy mom and asshole dad. My teenage mind is constantly reeling with possibilities of how to end my suffering – none of which I would ever have the courage to attempt,-and I find I have nothing to distract me besides the park down the block. I sit on the swings with my headphones in and lament until dinner time, where I go home to a foodless kitchen and make myself a bowl of cereal or Ellio's Pizza in the microwave.
I do these things until the day a boy takes the swing next to mine. He swings towards me, kicking my shoe a few times before I angrily pull my headset off.
"What?" I growl, aggravated that I can't catch a break from the bullying.
"You're kinda pretty, actually," the boy sounds like he's talking to himself. "I don't know what Mike and Ben were talking about."
I just stare at him.
"I'm Edward," he says eventually. "You're Isabella, right?"
"Bella," I correct him.
"Bella," he says my name slowly, like he's testing it on his tongue. "Do you want to be my girlfriend, Bella?"
I'm sure he's making fun of me. "I don't know you." I grumble, tearing my eyes away from his handsome face and staring down at my feet.
"So?"
"So. You don't know me. How do you know you even like me?"
He kicks at my shoe again until I look up. His face is close, right beside mine, and he's smiling. "I can just tell."
.*.*.*
It's almost an hour later when Jacob pokes his head in the bedroom. "Hey, Bells, you okay?"
I'm on the bed with my face stuffed into the pillow, so my voice comes out muffled when I say "I'm fine."
He's sitting on the edge of the bed, then, and runs a hand through my hair. I suppress a shudder and look up at him. "I'm fine," I clarify. "Just a little seasick, I think."
"Oh, I'm sorry, babe," he murmurs, leaning in to kiss the top of my head. "I guess it's a bad time to tell you dinner's almost ready?"
I groan, the thought of food turning my stomach. Seasickness may be a lie, but I'm clammy and nauseous nonetheless.
"There's something in the bathroom closet that should make you feel better. Mom's got this place stocked up."
"Thanks," I mumble, pushing my head back into the one-zillion thread-count pillowcase.
I know I'll have to face him eventually. I want to, but I'm terrified of the magnetic pull I feel towards him, as if over a decade hasn't gone by. I'm terrified of the way my heart dropped into my stomach when he said my name.
I'm especially terrified to feel all these things on a boat with my boyfriend and his family. To feel all these things for his sister's – his scary, rich, perfectly-beautiful sister – boyfriend.
Her boyfriend. My Edward.
.*.*.*
Life is a whirlwind after Edward is expelled. He drops out, enraging his father enough that he's nearly kicked out of his house; I think the only reason he's allowed to stay is because his sister gave their dad an ultimatum – if he goes, she'll follow. Carlisle Cullen has always preferred Alice to Edward and it shows.
My dad doesn't know I sneak out to see him nightly. My mom doesn't have a clue what's going on.
On weeknights we meet at the park. On the weekends we're blessed with Carlisle's promiscuity and usually have the Cullen household to ourselves until Sunday morning. Edward spends much of this time plotting our escape from this town-from our parents and school and the bullshit that comes with it. I feel a bit in over my head about it; I didn't get expelled. I hate my dad, but my mom… I don't know if she would survive me leaving her. She's already got one foot on the edge of a proverbial skyscraper-it wouldn't take too much of a proverbial push to send her flying off.
My worries, haunting as they may be in the light of day, fade into the night when we are alone together. In the darkness of his bedroom, into the early hours of Saturdays and Sundays, when he holds me against him and there's no room for words against our colliding lips-I am happy. I am in love. I feel loved.
He pushes in and out of me, keeping me locked in place with his strong hands around my waist and his mouth in my ear, panting my name. I feel hot, like I'm burning up from the inside out. I tangle my fingers in his hair and hang on for dear life because this moment-this earth shattering moment as he writhes against me and I explode around him-is everything. It's all I need to hold on to when the sunrise beams through his eastern facing window and I know I have to run home before Dad wakes up and sees me gone.
It is what I hold on to when I see him on Monday night and clench my teeth through his plans for departure.
.*.*.*
Its nearly eight o'clock when I find the willpower to rise from the king size mattress and face the music and the salty air. I splash my face with cold water and glower at my reflection, deterred all the more by how haunted I look. With a deep breath, I reason with myself. I told Jacob I was feeling sick, and I certainly look the part. At the very least my appearance may halt anyone's idea to question my disappearance.
I can hear chattering coming from the top deck and delicately make my way up the short flight of stairs.
"There she is!" Jake is the first person to see me, but of course, my eyes go straight to Edward. He's looking at me, too, and our gazes lock for just long enough for me to watch some feeling pass across his face. He regains composure quickly,-a skill I would not have attributed to him when we last met-and then Jacob is at my side.
"You feelin' any better?" He asks, his words rolling off his tongue in the way they always do when he's had too much to drink. I inwardly sigh, disappointed that on top of everything else I will be forced to deal with his sick later, but outwardly smile and hope that against all odds it's believable enough to get through the evening.
As it turns out, Jake is not the only over-indulgent member of the Black family. Billy, Sue and Rebecca are all far under the influence. Luckily, unlike my family, they appear to be fun drunks. If I stand on the far end of the deck-far enough away from Edward that I can't feel his presence radiating through my bones-and relish in the burn of the martini sliding down my throat, I can admit I'm even having a little bit of fun.
By quarter to midnight, the lot of them are wasted. Large speakers blast pop hits while Sue and her daughter dance across the deck. Jake and Billy are lounging on patio chairs with cigars and a bottle of whiskey. I'm milking my third martini, leaning over the railing to stare at the open ocean, so dark and endless, and feel the warm wind against my face.
Edward, who I've been trying hard to lose track of, is suddenly in my peripheral vision.
"Bella," my name is a whisper from his lips, but it still shocks me out of my skin. I try to keep my cool as I turn my head to face him, but he's right there, and my breath comes out in a rush, giving me away.
"Can we go somewhere to talk?" He asks me with pleading green eyes. I'm momentarily stunned by how gorgeous he looks-his sharp jaw and high cheekbones are still so much the same as I remember, but he's different, too. The set of his full lips is no longer a permanent scowl. He's older, he's matured, and it looks so damn good on him it leaves my knees weak.
When I regain some composure, I glance to my left where Jake and Rebecca are consorting with their dear parents. "They're trashed," Edward says. "They won't notice if we're gone for a few minutes."
Just a few minutes. Right. "Okay," I stutter out, nodding. His responding smile is small but astounding in its beauty; I am once again rendered breathless.
I feel the heat radiating off his body as he leads me down to the lower deck. It feels as though he knows his way around the boat as he leads us down the hallway towards the bow. I wonder if he's been on board before, if this isn't the first time Rebecca has brought him along for a week with her family. Perhaps they've been together for a long, long time. Perhaps that's what he wants to tell me now-to get this look off my face and get the idea of him and me out of my mind forever. The thought is painful.
We turn a corner that leads us back into open air, but is still hidden between two thin walls-a storage area, I realize-when he abruptly stops. He looks out to the ocean, the set of his jaw is taut and his brows are furrowed, but I can't stop to read his body language while I'm so distracted by the way the salty air tosses his messy copper hair around his face.
After a deep breath, he turns back to face me with a strange look of conviction in his eyes. It reminds me of his face so many years ago, desperate with dedication to leave it all behind. This memory is painful, too.
He opens his mouth as if to speak, but snaps it closed again. He takes a step toward me, backing me against the divider wall. His eyes are wide and searching, desperate once again, and I wish I could know what he saw when he looked down at me.
In a rush of bravery, I decide I'll have to be the one to break the silence. I suck much needed air into my lungs-but I've made a grave miscalculation of Edward's proximity and the way I would be able to nearly taste his breath on my tongue. A wave of something - desire? - washes over me, a thick blanket of it, and I can almost feel my pupils dilating as they hone in on him; this specter of a man standing in front of me.
Whatever he sees in my expression suddenly changes his. Before I have the time to process what I am watching explode across his face, he's against me, his long, hard body pressing me harder against the wall, and his lips fall down to mine.
A blissful sense of comfort is the first emotion I feel. It's followed closely by a sharp rush of lust that leaves me gasping and clawing at Edward's button down shirt in desperation to get him impossibly closer. His arms wrap around my torso in kind, holding me so tightly against him that my feet are nearly off the floor. His tongue sweeps my lower lip, and I open my mouth, inviting him in. I melt into the taste of him between his lips, he breathes my name into my mouth-we hear the sound of footsteps descending the stairs. He yanks away from me, leaving both of us panting. I wipe my hand across my face to disguise the remnants of his kiss and feel dampness on my cheeks-tears, maybe.
We're left staring at each other and catching our breaths. His gaze is intense as it burns into me, and I'm sure mine is the same. I wish there was time for words - not that I could possibly fathom what to say, - but there isn't. Jacob stumbles around the corner, stopping short when he sees us.
"There you are, Bells! I've been looking for you," his words are slurred, and he's smiling, so I'm confident he doesn't feel the tension radiating between Edward and me. I still need a long, shaky breath in before I can respond.
"Hey, yeah, I'm here," I try my best to smile. "Edward found me trying to look for the bathroom. We were just catching up." The lie slips out so quickly I surprise myself.
"Oh, thanks, bro," Jake grins at him before looking back to me. "You ready for bed, babe?"
I silently nod in agreement, afraid of what will come out if I open my mouth. I don't look back towards Edward as I follow Jake back to the bedroom, but I feel his eyes on me the entire way.
.*.*.*
The worst day of my teenage life comes on Christmas morning.
At seventeen years old, I'm confident that Charlie doesn't feel the need to play Santa anymore, so I feel no concern when I take up Edward's offer of spending Christmas Eve in his bed. Carlisle knows his kids have no interest in Holidays with him any longer-if they ever did,-so he is states away with his current mistress.
It turns out I've severely underestimated Charlie's dedication to keeping his little girl a little girl.
It's near four in the morning when I'm stirred from my sleep by a series of loud bangs. Naked and swathed in my love's arms, I pull the pillow over my head, hoping the noise will go away and I can fall quickly back into the peaceful rest I was torn from.
I am not so lucky.
The banging soon is accompanied by a booming male voice. I can't make out what he's saying until Edward sits up and yanks the pillow that's covering my ears. Then it's crystal clear.
The man is shouting my name. And it's not just any man-it's my father.
We've been found out.
Charlie is livid.
The screaming match that ensues in the Cullen's front yard between Edward, dressed only in flannel pajama pants and slippers, and my father, is epic. I'm sure half the block can hear my shrill screams as I beg them to stop.
Edward steps toward my dad with intent, and my heart drops in my stomach. I place myself in front of him, my freezing hands pressing into his heaving chest and plead. My face stings from the cold wind on my wet cheeks and my voice cracks on nearly half my words. I've nearly given up when Edward's eyes, green and cold, snap from Charlie's face to mine.
They soften in their gaze, but his jaw remains taunt and angry. "I will not let them take you away from me, Bella," his voice is rough and quiet. "You're mine, forever."
In a millisecond, his face softens and then crumples as though he were in pain. "Promise me, Bella. Promise me forever."
My answer slips out easily, as it is the most natural thing in the world for me to say. "I promise."
.*.*.*
Jacob is out cold when the sun streams through the window and wakes me. It's very early and the ship is quiet, so I pull on a robe and tiptoe to the upper deck to watch the remainder of the sunrise.
I'm blessed to find an espresso machine behind the bar. With a cappuccino in hand, I fold myself onto the patio sofa and let my mind roam.
Despite the myriad of questions running through my head, about one thing I am certain; there is no part of me that regrets the fleeting moment Edward and I shared last night. Kissing him again, after all of this time, relit something inside of me that I was sure had died forever.
The torment of losing your soulmate is unrelenting. Of this, I am also sure. I did what I had to do to survive it, even if it meant stuffing myself inside a little box that does not fit the shape I'd envisioned for my life.
There is peace with Jacob; a type of peace I haven't found with any other man.
Perhaps it is just because he's simple. There's no room for me to stress over his feelings and intentions; he lays them out with perfect clarity. No cryptism or dating games like the many men I've been with in the decade between Edward and Jake.
Am I happy with him? Of that I'm not sure. I think I am - or, at least, I think I was.
Now… Now, everything is different. Or it's all the same, depending on how you look at it.
Hadn't I always known that Edward was The proverbial One? The years without him may have gone by, but with only a rushed kiss, the fire he's always ignited within me was roaring with a frightening familiarity.
No, nothing is different. It's just as it's always been, this life of mine. It's Me and its Him and there is not, nor has there ever been, anyone else.
I do not find any particular comfort in these sleepy revelations, but I am consoled to be able to experience them in the private tranquility of a sunrise at sea. For that, I am thankful to Jacob. In part, my gratitude lies with him in my reunion with the love of my life. On the other hand, the situation is so complex and uncomfortable, and I am so unsure on where this new development will bring me, that I'm cursing myself for ever having met Jacob Black.
I retreat back to the bedroom and into a warm shower when I sense stirring on the boat's lower level. Jake bursts into the bathroom as I'm drying off; shadows under his dark eyes and his unkept black hair signify a sleepless night, a common weekend occurrence for the heavy drinker that he is. Still, he smiles down at my wet form as all six and a half feet of him tower over me.
"Good morning, sunshine. Are you feeling as beat up as me?"
I shake my head, closing my eyes while he places a soft kiss into my hair and wishing he were someone else. "I feel fine," I lie, though my ailment is not at all alcohol related. "I didn't drink too much last night."
"Hmm," he muses with a smirk. "Maybe we can change that today. We should be circling Cuba by now - I'll bet it's a beautiful day to swim."
"You wanna get trashed and swim in the open ocean?"
He laughs. "Hells yeah, baby. Don't you?"
I shrug. Perhaps if I were in better spirits, it would sound like a great idea. Right now, everything just feels unsettling and… blah.
Jacob plants one more kiss into my hair. "Don't worry, babes. I won't let anything happen to you. Let's go have a good day, yeah?"
I hope my disingenuous smile is convincing enough. When it seems like it is, I pray I can keep it up once Edward and I come face to face.
.*.*.*
Everything comes to a head when Carlisle's car screeches to a stop in his driveway.
"Do you want to tell me what the hell is going on, Edward?" He seethes between his teeth. He puts on a good performance; from Charlie's point of view, he must seem like a caring father, scorned. Edward and I know he's just angry that he was forced to come home and parent.
"Don't act like you give a shit," Edward spits at his dad. At this point, I look up at the two story house and find Alice peeking through the curtains of her father's bedroom. I thought I must have cried all the tears my body can possibly store within itself, but it's not true; the knowledge that we've now ruined sweet, innocent Alice's Christmas sends me back over the edge.
My father gruffs from beside me, making Edward turn his focus towards us. His eyes heat the moment he sees the tears falling down my cheeks.
"Fuck!" He exclaims, tossing his arms up in wild abandonment. "Now she's fucking crying again! Is this what you want?"
"Edward, please," I try to plead with him, though I am silently pleased with his rage. It's how I know how much he loves me and that he will never let them tear us apart.
"You want to make your daughter cry, Charlie?" He ignores me, reassigning his ire from Carlisle and back to my dad. "You wanna get me in trouble," he uses air quotes around the word, "and break Bella's heart?"
"Now, son," Carlisle tries, forgetting that Edward hasn't considered him a father in years. "Why don't we let Mr. Swan take Bella home so you and I can talk, huh?"
His piss poor excuse for patience makes Edward laugh. It's a bitter, unhappy sound that makes me cringe. I just want this to be over.
"Fuck you, Carlisle," he seethes. "And fuck you too, Charlie Swan."
With two long strides, he's across the driveway and pulling me into his arms. I press my cold, wet face into his even colder bare chest and wish he'd taken a moment to put on a sweater an hour ago when Charlie first showed up.
"Go home, Bella," he whispers into my hair. "I'll come get you soon, okay?"
"What?" I'm so distraught I can barely comprehend his words, instead just trying to find a fleeting moment of comfort in his arms while I still can.
"Just be ready for me, okay? This shit is over, baby. I promise."
.*.*.*
When I return to the top deck with Jacob, its been transformed. The large, empty space that was used for a dancefloor last night now hosts a large, round table that's set for six. Billy and Sue are already seated and I breathe a sigh of relief that Edward and Rebecca aren't here yet. I do my best to ignore any intrusive guesses as to what they may be doing, remaining grateful that I have a moment to collect myself before I have to face him.
Jake takes the seat next to his father, putting me between him and one of two remaining empty chairs. With a smile and a gratuitous sip of mimosa, I silently pray that, against all odds, Rebecca will forgo the seat next to her mom and choose to sit next to me.
Of course, I'm not so lucky. Ten minutes later, the couple ascends the stairs, dressed to the nines and fashionably late. Again, I'm embarrassed by the cheap quality of my sundress, noting that Rebecca's satin romper looks as if it costs more than I make in a week. After greeting her family, she sits beside Sue with a smile, leaving Edward with nowhere to go but beside me.
I don't look up from my plate as he lowers himself into the chair, but I feel the electricity of his nearness immediately. I nearly choke on air when I feel an arm slink around my shoulders, but it's only Jacob, so I slump down and take another gulp of my fizzy drink.
"Now that we're all here," Sue starts, forcing me to look up from my plate so that I can see Edward in my peripheral vision. I can't make out his expression, but I can tell there's tension in his jaw. I wonder if Rebecca notices. "Billy and I just wanted to have an official welcome breakfast for Suzette's newcomers. So-welcome!"
Newcomers. With an S, as in more than one. So Edward's not been on this boat before. I exhale in relief; not subtly, apparently, because I hear Edward's breath catch and I know-in that way where it comes to Edward, I know-that it's in response to my sigh. I know that he knows what I've figured out-that he and Rebecca could not have been together for that long. We've yet to speak-I've yet to say a single word to him-but we are communicating effortlessly in this silence. My heart rate picks up at the thought.
"Thank you, Mrs. Black," he says after a beat, regaining composure much quicker than me. Another thing that's changed.
"Please call me Sue."
"Sue," he corrects, and I'm not looking at him-can't look at him,-but I hear the smile in his voice. I squeeze my thighs together. This morning's revelations have brought an unwelcome urgency in my body, a waking need that I have not felt since I was a teenager.
As I got older, I realized it was probably just hormones. Now I remember-it's just Edward.
We get through most of our meal before Rebecca can't hold it in any longer. "So," she breathes the word so quickly, as if she'd been itching to ask for hours. "You and Bella went to high school together." My gaze snaps to Edward's face. It's the first time I've really looked at him all morning, so I'm momentarily distracted from the frightening conversation his girlfriend has just started. "Were you guys, like, friends, or…?"
I'm sweating. I swear to god, actual beads of sweat are instantly dripping down my neck. I wish that we had the chance to come up with a story-or did he want to tell the truth? It's ancient history, isn't it? Or not, because he kissed me last night. He kissed me.
I wish he would just tell her the truth-tell everyone the truth. Let's get it out in the open, let's admit how we feel so maybe they'll just leave us alone, drop us off on a deserted island or something and we could be happy, finally -
"We had some mutual friends," Edward says, and he says it so casually, as if I'm not sitting beside him planning our lives eating coconuts and fishing for dinner by the fire. "We hung out sometimes, yeah."
"That's so funny, man, isn't it?" Jake chimes in.
Edward smiles at him.
"Why didn't you keep in touch?" Rebecca is talking to me now, and I don't know what my face looks like, but it can't be good. Edward places his sandaled foot over mine gently, a signal to pull myself together.
I try to regain composure, but I can't think of what to say. "Uh, well," I gaze at him for help, and he looks nervous, and just shrugs. "I don't know, I guess-" I'm trying to sound nonchalant, like I couldn't care less, but I care desperately. I do know why we didn't keep in touch. "I guess life just happened. Right?"
He nods. "Right. And you know I'm not on social media or anything, so…"
"Right," I agree.
"That makes sense," Sue says, because she's intuitive like that. She knows it's time for this conversation to move along.
"It just seems like you guys know each other, is all. Like, you know each other well." Rebecca doesn't want to drop it.
But Edward just laughs, leans back and drapes his arm around the back of her chair. "We have some memories together, is all. A lot of crazy shit went down back then."
I lift my foot, still being gently pressed by Edward's. This is the understatement of the year, I'm telling him, and when he wraps his foot around my ankle I know he's saying, tell me about it.
.*.*.*
We don't get a chance to speak for the rest of the day. It's mostly spent in the ocean, and despite my anxiety and unrelenting desire, I do enjoy floating in the warm salt water and feeling the sun on my skin. I put my sunglasses to good use and gaze at Edward periodically, admiring his muscled chest and the spattering of hair that certainly wasn't there in high school.
Of all the times I've imagined what he'd look like as the years passed, never did I fathom it would be this good.
I have to turn away occasionally to smile at Jake or avoid a moment shared between Rebecca and her boyfriend. When she jumps off the boat into his arms, they laugh and laugh, and my stomach rolls and I'm sure I'm gonna be sick.
"You okay, babe?" Jake asks, so I excuse myself out of the beautiful ocean and hole up in our bedroom, feigning yet another case of seasickness.
I sleep through dinner. Jake barely tries to rile me, instead just sighing and leaving me to wallow alone. It's what I want to do. I'm secretly hoping that there will be a knock on the door that brings Edward in, here to make sure I'm okay, but it doesn't happen. Of course it doesn't.
I'm reading too much into the kiss, I decide. It was just a kiss in a heated moment between two people with a shared history. Nothing else has happened. Some looks, sure, and he did that thing with his foot at breakfast. But that's because we have this connection-had this connection,-and we've always interacted that way.
He's not coming. I'm reading too much into this.
It's with that thought that I finally decide to haul myself out of bed. I look exhausted, but the sun has kissed my skin in a way that is undeniably enhancing. I pull my salted hair into a bun and throw on yet another shabby dress, this one short and tight because, fuck it, right? I'm going out there, going to go up to the top deck where I can hear music and laughter and I'm going to at least pretend I'm happy.
I was happy just yesterday. Wasn't I?
I'm not sure anymore.
.*.*.*
Charlie drives me home. I'm a blubbering mess in the passenger's seat, and he sighs often, but doesn't say anything. I'm miserable. All I can think about is what Edward said before he walked away. This shit is over. Over. He's coming to get me. He's ready to leave.
I am not.
I trudge to the front door while Charlie says "don't you dare even look at the Christmas tree. All of those gifts are going back." Fuck the gifts, I want to say. Fuck you and fuck the gifts, but I say nothing because I can't formulate words through my sobs.
I can barely see through the tears. Charlie opens the door, and all I can see is red. Red, red, red. It's all over the kitchen floor and the cabinets and -
"RENEE!" My dad screams her name, shoving me out of the way to nearly slip in the puddle of blood that holds my mother in the center of it.
"She's gone! They took her!" She's crying, my mother, but her voice is so low. She's trembling and pale and-I think she's dying. Right now, in front of my eyes, I think she's dying.
"She's here, Renee! Bella's right here!" Charlie's on his knees, covered in red, grasping at my mother's slippery wrists as if trying to hold them together. It is not working. He looks up at me with desperate hate in his eyes. "Call 911!" He shouts. "Damn it, Bella, do it now!"
The ambulance takes her and my father away. I try to come, but Charlie refuses. "Stay the fuck out of my way, Isabella," he growls, and they slam the door shut and turn on their sirens and drive away.
I don't clean up the blood. I go into my room and lay down and I close my eyes and I wait. I wait for the world that's been falling for years to come crashing down.
It's very dark when Edward comes to my window. I did not sleep, but I have no idea how long I've been laying here. I don't respond to his calls-not because I don't want to, but because I can't.
I know he'll find his way inside, and he does. I hear the front door creek open and I hear him shout "holy shit!," no doubt seeing the mess my mother made. "Bella!" He cries my name, and it sounds like the way Charlie called for my mom. It makes me want to cry, but I can't.
He's in my bedroom a second later. "Oh, god, Bella," he exhales, falling to his knees beside my bed. I open my eyes for the first time in hours. My room is dark, but my eyes adjust to find his desperately handsome face right beside mine-it's marred by a black eye and split lip. "My Bella," his voice cracks when he says my name, "what happened, baby?"
I can't talk, so I reach out and let my fingers gently trail over his wounds. He looks sad. I'm asking him what happened, and he's answering me. We don't need words anymore.
"We have to go, baby. I have to leave this place and never come back."
Leave. It's over, he said, and he meant it. We have to leave. He has to leave. I-I don't know if I can.
"My mom," I finally rasp the words, and he nods because he knows. "She thought they took me," I tell him.
"You're right here, baby," he says, reaching out to place a gentle hand on my cheek. His thumb strokes under my eye. It's dry because I can't cry anymore.
"I can't leave her, Edward. She'll die."
His face turns to stone. His hand retreats from its resting place on my face. "You have to," he says, and his voice is cold, cold, cold. As cold as the kitchen is red.
"Edward," I say his name and suddenly, would you look at that, I can cry. The tears leak from my eyes suddenly and silently, and they make his face soften a little, a small advantage to this never ending barrage of wetness falling from my eyes. "Edward," I'm pleading now, reaching for him, but he's pulling away. He's standing up, his hands are flying to his hair and he's pacing back and forth, back and forth.
"I can't go back to that house, Bella. I can't. I can't see that man ever again."
"She'll die, Edward. She's going to kill herself."
"She can go somewhere! She needs to go to a fucking mental institution, that's what needs to happen-"
"I can't force Charlie to commit her!" I'm yelling, now, so I sit up and use my sleeve to wipe the tears and snot from my raw face.
"Bella," he says, and now he's the one pleading. He comes back to the side of my bed and falls to his knees. "Bella, you promised me, Bella. You promised me forever."
"J-Just stay, Edward! Just stay a little longer, please. Please, baby-"
"I will not stay!" He shouts, and then his head falls onto the mattress and he lets out a deep and guttural sob. My heart shatters in my chest.
This shit is over. It's over.
.*.*.*
The Blacks are officially wasted when I make it to the top deck. They're laughing and dancing and making jokes. Jake cheers when he spots me, jogging over to plant a sloppy kiss on my lips. "You feel better, baby?" He shouts, even though I'm right in front of him, because he's so, so drunk. I feel an odd sense of relief where I would usually feel annoyance. At least he'll be oblivious to what I'm sure would normally be my very apparent discomfort.
Edward, who's sitting on the couch with a cocktail, gives me a tight smile. I try to return it, probably fail, and then head over to the bar for a cocktail of my own. I settle myself into a bar stool, far enough away from Edward that I can't feel him like electricity through my veins, and watch the familial antics in front of me. Sometimes I even laugh. Seeing them like this clarifies a lot of things about Jacob. They're just… happy. They're happy people, and it's maybe more uncomfortable to realize than it is to be stuck on a boat with Edward Cullen.
I've never seen anything like it.
.*.*.*
Eventually, Sue and Billy bid their children adieu, holding hands like newlyweds as they head downstairs to the master suite. Rebecca passes out on the couch soon after, and watching Edward lift her to carry her off to bed makes my chest ache. Jake decides to hit the sack then, but I tell him I'm not tired, so I'll meet him there later. I wonder if he notices I've been avoiding the bedroom with him, but I think he's too drunk to care. Plus, I'm telling the truth-I'm not tired, not in the slightest. In fact, my veins are on fire. I'm wide awake.
I stare out into the endless black ocean for god knows how long, imagining what happened once Edward placed his lover down on their shared mattress. My heart feels broken, shattered, nearly the way it did that night eleven years ago. I love him. I've always loved him, I'll always love him, and it will always hurt.
I wish I was far, far away from this boat, this tiny dot on this vast open sea.
Footsteps tear me from my lamenting.
"Hi," he says, pausing at the top of the stairs. His hair is standing up in all directions, like he'd been rolling around in bed. Or like he'd been tearing at it, the way he used to do. He's wearing pajama pants and a white wife beater-the moonlight reflects off his arm muscles. My mouth goes dry.
I love him, and it will always be this way.
"Hi," I say.
He walks towards me slowly, taking a seat at the farthest end of the couch. I cringe. "I was hoping you'd be out here," he says after a length of silence.
I exhale. "I'm not tired," I tell him, and he smiles, but his eyes are sad.
"Me either,"
"I don't know what to say to you," I confess, because there's nothing else to say.
"I-" he starts, then pauses as if collecting his thoughts. "I thought I died. When I saw you, I thought I must have died and gone to heaven. Or hell, maybe, considering…"
"Considering," I whisper, and he smiles sadly again. My heart feels so broken.
He stares at me for a moment. I feel his eyes scan my face slowly-my eyes, my mouth, down to my neck. "You can't even talk to me," he sighs. "You've been avoiding me."
"I don't know what to say," I repeat, and, fuck, I wish I knew. I really wish I knew.
"You look beautiful," he says, and then he laughs and hangs his head. "I don't know what to say, either, Bella,"
I shiver at the way his voice curls around my name. "Say that again," I tell him.
His head pops back up. "Say what?"
"Bel-la," I mouth the word slowly, don't dare spoil it by saying it aloud.
His face lights up into a grin that sends my heart racing. "Bella," he sighs, sliding across the couch until he's right next to me, where he belongs. Where I can feel the heat radiate off his bare skin. "My Bella. I can't believe it's you,"
I don't want the tears to spring from my eyes, but they do. "Holy shit," my words spill out in a sob. "It's you."
He's on me, then, lips colliding against mine with a force that leaves my lower lip bleeding. He takes it into his mouth and sucks, groaning as my blood slides over his tongue. It's intense. It's erotic. It's so fucking Edward.
I'm grasping at him, my hands unsure of where to go, needing to feel every piece. I manage to slide his shirt off, barely letting our lips disconnect in the process because the need, the aching need is so strong, as strong as the first time. As strong as it was the night this man-a boy, then-brought me into his bed and looked me in the eyes and told me he loved me. I believed him- still believe him-because I love him.
"Wait," he pants against my lips, but he shows no sign of slowing his mouth as it crashes against mine. "Wait, Bella,"
"No," I gasp, tangling my fingers into his hair, holding him in place. I won't let him go. I can't.
"I don't want to-"
"Because of her?"
We're still kissing, he's still grinding himself against me and lighting me ablaze. "Because of him."
"Fuck him," I say, and he growls. He wraps his long arms around my waists and hoists me so I'm straddling his lap. I melt into his chest, releasing his lips only so mine can explore down his jaw, to his neck. I breathe him in-he smells like Edward. I shiver at the overwhelming sense of comfort his scent brings me. Home. It feels like coming home, nestled here.
He yanks the hair at the nape of my neck to pull my face up and smash his lips back against my own.
"Edward," I cry his name into his mouth. His hardness is very apparent in his cotton pajamas, and I'm grinding myself against it. There is only the fabric of his pants and my underwear between us.
He's gripping my hips so hard it hurts, but I love it. His big hands maneuver me down, against his length, then back up again, over and over. I'm gasping so much against his lips that he gives me a break, trailing open mouthed kisses down my jaw, my neck, finally settling behind my ear. "Say it again," he whispers, his breath hot against my sensitive skin and I'm-I've transcended my body, I think.
"Edward," it comes out as a plea, and he's groaning into my skin and I can't take it anymore. I pull away from him just enough to shove my panties to the side-he gets the hint. His cock springs free of his cotton confines and there it is-I only have a second to look at it before he's guiding me over him but, god, he's perfect. If I thought he was back then -
He thrusts his hips up, and then he's inside me, and maybe-maybe it's just because I got so worked up rubbing against him, or maybe it's just because it's him,-it's really fucking him. I don't know why, but the moment he fills me I'm coming. I'm coming and gasping and grasping on to him for dear life. My ears are ringing but I hear him say, "oh, fuck, Bella," and then I'm flat on my back and he's on top of me.
He's still inside me, and when my eyes manage to flutter open he's gazing down at me with this-this look of reverence or something. My emotions get trapped in my throat, a big lump ready to spill out, but he leans down on his forearms and takes my face in his hands and starts moving again and-oh, god -
I can't help the tears from slipping from my eyes, but they don't stop him. Thank God, they don't stop him-he keeps moving inside of me, slowly, tantalisingly slowly, using the pad of his thumbs to wipe the wetness from my cheeks. "Shh," he whispers, leaning in to plant small kisses across my cheek, stopping at the corner of my mouth. "Shh, baby," he says into my skin.
"You left me," I say-I don't know why, can't imagine why I say it, and a fresh round of tears spill from my eyes, spurred on by the overwhelming pleasure of him moving inside of me.
"Bella," he groans, and I feel him twitching inside of me, know he's getting close but he's holding his breath the way he used to do-he's trying not to come yet. I don't want him to-don't want this to be over-but I can't help but lift my hips to meet his thrusts. The sound of our flesh slapping nearly sends me over the edge again, but then he says "You didn't follow me," and it cools me off-I'm glad for it. I'm not ready to give in, either.
His lips find mine again-I open for him immediately, loving the way his tongue tastes against mine. "You promised," he says into my mouth. "You promised,"–he's gasping between words-"and then you didn't follow."
"Stop," I say, sliding my hands up his toned back to twist my fingers in his soft hair. I'm still crying, and he's still wiping the tears from my face. I pull his face up by his hair to look at him–he's crying, too, fuck,-his green eyes bore into mine and there's so much emotion there, and I think it's love. I think he still loves me, too, and I can't help when the words slip from my lips.
He pauses inside of me. His gaze turns dark and his hands, still holding my face, tighten their grip to hold me in place. "Bella," he chokes my name out–it looks like it hurts him to say it. "Bella," he's pleading now, and his lips are crashing back into mine and he's saying "I love you, I love you, I love you," each time our mouths disconnect, as if he doesn't need the moment to breathe.
I'm the one gasping for breath–it's because I think I'm sobbing, now, and he's quickening his pace inside of me and it feels so good, so perfect that I'm coming and, fuck, so is he. He buries his face in the crook of my neck and cries my name as he comes. I wrap my arms around him, hold him to me–he's shaking. I am, too, I think, and I think we're both crying and coming down from what now feels like flying too close to the sun.
.*.*.*
I'm in his arms, my back to his chest, lounging on this oversized, over the top comfortable couch. We're staring up at a starry night in the middle of the open ocean. I think about that night so many years ago, the last time I saw him before he boarded this ship. I can't reconcile the memory with the present-it doesn't fit.
This was never supposed to happen.
I think Edward feels me tense up, because he leans in to place a soft kiss on my shoulder. "What is it, baby?" His voice is low and gruff and sends vibrations through his chest that I feel against my skin. He is all consuming.
"How did we get here?"
"If you're asking about navigating a yacht through the middle of the ocean, I'm of no help." He makes me laugh and–I don't know the last time I laughed. That sobers me, so he plants another kiss on my skin. "Tell me. Is it what we did?"
"God, no," I huff out because God, no. I crane my neck so I can look up with him-my eyes meet his stubbled jaw, but he dips his head and rests it against mine. "No, what we did was…" His eyes are portraying what I can't find the words to say, so I leave it at that.
"Then what, Bella?"
"Where have you been?"
He smiles that sad smile again, but it doesn't hurt as much now that I'm in his arms. "Too many places."
"You left me."
"I had to go." I stare into his eyes, searching for some kind of answer there, something more than what he'd told me then and what he's telling me now. "I was gonna kill him, Bella. I really think I would have killed him."
The thought makes me shudder and, for the first time, I feel a little bit grateful that he left.
"It was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life, if that's any consolation."
"No, not really," I say, and then add, "Not following you was the hardest thing, too,"
He kisses me softly on the corner of my mouth. "How's your mom?" He asks.
"Dead." I tell him. He hums sadly, as if he's not surprised. He shouldn't be. "How's Alice?"
"Married," he says. I gape at him, and he laughs, nodding. "I know, right?"
And then I tell him about school, about how I moved to Manhattan and dated and dated and met Jacob. I told him that I've loved him this whole time. He tells me about crossing the country with nothing but a backpack and some money he stole from Carlisle's safe. He tells me about California girls and how they're too blonde and stuck up and yeah, he tried dating a few of them, but nothing stuck until he moved back to New York last year and met Rebecca.
"There's just something about her, I guess. When I look at her."
I try to swallow back the bile that fills my throat. I don't know why he's telling me this. He grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger when I try to turn away. His eyes are playful, but I don't understand. "Good for her."
He laughs, and it's the most beautiful sound in the world. "Are you being intentionally obtuse?" I just stare at him - he laughs again, then tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "She looks just like you, Bella."
I'm floored. When I look at Rebecca, I see the blonde bombshell from the photos Jake's shared with me. Even with her darkened hair, I can't reconcile her tan, gorgeous face with my mousy, pale one.
Edward pulls me tightly against his chest and plants a kiss in my hair. "You're far more beautiful, of course. More beautiful than I've dared to let myself imagine all these years." My heart is flying in my chest. He kisses my head again. "I love you forever, Isabella Swan."
The sky is dark when something rouses me from my sleep. I blink a few times, remembering where I am and whose arms are around me. It's the morning, I realize, but the sky is so completely overcast that the sun has no chance. A big gust of wind makes me shiver, so I spin in Edward's arms and press my face into his warm chest. I'm awake just enough to know that I should be up and sneaking back to Jacob, but not enough to be willing to do it.
Let them catch us, I don't care. What's the worst thing that could –
"Bella!" It's Jacob, calling my name, and his voice is close. I spring from Edward's arms – he's already standing – and land gracelessly on the other end of the couch. His wide green eyes glance from my face to the stairway, where a head of dark hair – no, two heads – are bobbing up to our level.
"Fuck," I whisper, and Edward gives me a look. Understatment of a fucking lifetime, he's saying. I crack a small smile and some of the anxiety melts off his face.
"Bella!" Jacob's voice shouts again, but it's swept away by another gust of wind. I can tell the sky is about to open up. It seems fitting for the situation.
The siblings reach the top deck shoulder to shoulder, with eyebrows drawn tight and mouths set in scowls. In this moment, they look exactly alike, and I can't see what Edward was talking about last night.
I know I should not be thinking about that right now, but I am.
Rebecca laughs - an eerie, miserable sound. "I fucking knew it," she says, elbowing her brother in the ribs. Her eyes are fixated on Edward. I glance at him - he's looking at me. I hate the way that makes my heart melt.
Another gust of wind sweeps by, so strong I nearly stumble. Edward reaches an arm out, as if to steady me, but I'm out of his reach. Rebecca laughs again.
"Bella?" Jake can't seem to say anything but my name, and, fuck, I do feel bad. I do, but -
A flash of lightning fills the sky, and then the rain comes down in a torrent.
I was right. This is fitting.
"Aren't either of you going to say anything?!" Rebecca shrieks, and I cringe, and Edward cringes, and then another big bolt of lightning cracks across the sky, and its resulting boom makes us all cringe.
"I'm sorry," Edward says. Rebecca starts to laugh again, but Jacob interrupts her.
"This isn't fucking funny!" He shouts at his sister. The rain is coming down impossibly hard, and it's hard to hear him over the sound of it pelting against the deck. "What the fuck is this, Bella?"
"It's…"
"Complicated." Edward finishes.
"Shut the fuck up!" Jake screams at him. Another big gust brings a large wave, and the boat lurches to the side. "Complicated my ass! I love you, Bella, and you love me. How is that complicated?!"
"Jacob-" I start, but another big wave crashes against the side of the boat and – I'm falling. I'm falling into Edward, and he catches me, but another wave is coming and –
.*.*.*
I can't breathe.
I don't know where I am, don't know why this pain is radiating throughout my body or why I can't fucking breathe.
I try to say his name, but nothing comes out.
"Bella!" Someone's calling my name, but it's not him. "Rebecca!"
"Help!" A woman's voice, coming from far away. "Edward, fucking help!"
I'm gasping at the sound of his name – or trying to. Something is pressing down on my chest, I think. I can't move.
"Where the fuck are Mom and Dad, Rebecca?!" It's Jacob, I realize. I open my eyes and I see… nothing. Darkness. I try to call out again, but I can't take in enough air to let any out.
"Edward, please, it hurts," Rebecca is crying, but I don't hear him. My eyes drift closed.
.*.*.*
"Where is she?!" I think I may have fallen asleep, but it's his voice that I hear, and I'm awake. "Where the fuck is she?"
"Fuck her!" Rebecca's screaming. "Fucking home-wrecking bitch! Let her die!"
"Jesus," Jacob mutters. I hear frantic shuffling growing closer to me.
"Bella!" He's calling my name – looking for me. "God dammit," it sounds like he's choking on tears – it spurs me on. I try to take a deep breath, but can't. "Where are you, baby? Please don't be dead."
"Edward," I somehow manage to squeak his name out, but it sounds so, so quiet, and I don't think he can hear me, but the rustling nearby grows more frantic.
"Bella?!"
I groan, and then everything is suddenly bright, bright, bright, as if the darkness was lifted from atop my body.
And an angel is there, shielding me from that too-bright light, and it's – he's the most beautiful angel, but my eyes are wheeling around in their sockets and I can't focus enough to really see him.
"Bella," his voice is a whisper but it looks like he's yelling – when my eyes stay still, it looks like he's screaming my name. "Stay with me, baby," he pleads, but it's too quiet. My eyes drift – then I'm in his arms. He's shaking me and it hurts and I try to open my mouth to tell him but I'm so tired and… I don't want him to let go, anyway, so the shaking is fine. My eyes drift, and then his lips are on mine, and they're so wet and salty with – tears. I will my eyes to open, and I see him.
"Edward,"
"Oh, Jesus, Bella! Oh, fuck!"
I can only groan his name in response. It's all I know to say.
"I love you, Bella. Do you hear me?" I want to say yes, I hear you. I hear him, finally loud and clear, and I don't even know if I'm hearing him through my ears or through my soul, but I get it.
I try to tell him, try to speak the words aloud – I love you – but I can't, they won't slip past my dry lips, but I try to tell him anyway and – he gets it.
My eyes drift.