~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~
Chapter 13
BPOV
The door whooshes behind him, closing quietly, but I jump out of my skin as if he's slammed it anyway.
He's gone.
The immediate sense of emptiness I feel takes my breath away and I sway, reaching out to hang on to the arm of the sofa so I don't collapse into a heap on the floor.
I want to though. Lord, do I want to. Just curl up into a ball and cry or go to sleep or … something.
I close my eyes for a moment, trying to keep it together long enough so I can get into bed, even though there is no chance in hell I'll be sleeping in it. A gust of wind makes me snap my head toward the front door and I hear the wood of the front step creak.
He's still here.
I take a few steps to the right so I'm able to see out the window in the middle of the door, and my hand flies up to my mouth, muffling the sob that wants to come out. I can't see his face, but his head is tipped down and his shoulders shake as he stands there. I move forward and stop, not sure what I'm doing. I want to go to him, but my feet won't take another step.
Prison.
Drugs.
Gun.
Blood.
Words that by themselves are menacing enough, but put them all together and then attach them to Edward, and I can barely make sense of them.
He takes a step, then another, and I watch until I can't see him any longer, my heart growing heavier by the second.
I close my eyes and a crystal clear picture of the way Edward looked when I told him to leave assails me, and this time I do fall against the sofa, unable to catch my breath. Oh my God. What if he leaves Corea? What if he thinks I don't ever want to see him again?
Without even thinking about it, I slip and stumble over my feet as I run toward the door, yanking it open.
"Edward!" I scream frantically, tripping down the stairs. My bare feet hit the ground, cold mud oozes between my toes, but all I can think about is him. "Edward, wait! Please don't go!"
He stops walking and turns around.
We're standing across the front yard, me at the bottom of the stairs and him in the driveway beside his bike, staring at each other. He's confused, but I don't stop to think about that before I take off running, throwing myself into his arms as soon as I'm close enough.
"Please … I just … don't … need ..." I sob incoherently. I don't even know what I'm trying to tell him; I just know I can't let him leave the way he did.
"Shhh, Bella," he whispers unevenly.
My legs wrap around his waist and I cling to his neck. I squeeze, afraid to let go. He doesn't speak; he just holds me as I shake in his arms. His hands run up and down my back, and he presses me tightly against his chest. I try to take a deep breath and it takes a few attempts before I'm able to do so without feeling like I'm going to fall apart.
He shifts me in his arms and I lift my head, our eyes both searching, both waiting.
"Better?" he asks, watching me take another breath. His voice is gentle, completely at odds with the thumping of his heart and the way his fingers grip almost too hard at my sides.
I nod, my throat too tight to be able to speak.
His eyes are the grayest I've ever seen them, the color of the morning fog that rolls in over the water. They're full of so much pain, so much fear, that I can't help but lay my hand along his cheek.
"Bella." My name is a strangled breath forcing its way out of his mouth.
I shift in his arms and then slowly he sets me down on the ground. I gasp when my bare feet meet the cold, damp pavement.
We stand in an awkward, tense silence. There aren't any other sounds except for the wind that rustles through the trees and the occasional hoot of an owl. The front porch light does little to cut through the darkness that surrounds us, but since the storm has passed, the moon's silvery glow is enough to allow us to see each other.
I can tell he's waiting for me to say something, after all, I was the one that chased after him after telling him to leave, so it's no wonder he's afraid to speak. The only problem is now that I've calmed down some, I have no idea what to say to him. Everything is still so confusing but there was just no way I could let him go without telling him … something.
"Don't leave Corea," I whisper. "I know I told you to leave, but I don't want you to go away. I just need some time to think, Edward, to process everything," I say as I wave my hand around. "But please don't go away."
A thousand emotions play out over his face, in his eyes, changing faster than I can even possibly register them. I want to comfort him or offer him some sort of promise, but the words die in my throat when I remember why I asked him to leave in the first place.
"Whatever you need, Bella. I understand," he says sadly, looking so damn exhausted.
Suddenly an image of Edward, distracted and tired, working on the boat, getting hurt or worse yet falling overboard, sears itself to my brain. Frantic, worried, I reach for his hand, gripping it tightly in mine.
"Promise me you'll be careful today," I sob. "Be safe, please. You're already so tired, and now you're upset and I didn't mean to hurt you. I just don't know what to think of everything you told me, but I'll never, ever, forgive myself if something happens to you, too, because of me. Oh God, Edward, please," I wail, trying to catch my breath. I bend over, wrapping my arms around my waist and squeeze my eyes tightly closed.
"Shit. Bella, stop. Take a deep breath, baby," he tries to soothe as he rubs my back, his strong fingers massaging my tight muscles. He keeps doing it until I'm able to finally breathe normally. I stand up, feeling embarrassed and really, kind of like a heartless bitch at the fact he's comforting me when he's the one that has to be up in mere hours to go to work.
"Promise me," I beg, needing him to say the words.
He nods. Slowly he reaches out and grabs my hand. When I don't flinch from his touch, he takes a deep breath and his face immediately relaxes. "I promise."
It's all he says, but it's all I need.
There's no doubt he wants to say more. He keeps swallowing like he's forcing the words back down his throat. I'm grateful. I'm not anywhere close to being able to hear anything else tonight … well, more like this morning. After another moment passes, he squeezes my hand slightly and then lets go.
"Are you going to be okay?" he hesitantly asks.
The question has about a hundred different meanings, but knowing he's asking about the immediate future more so than the more difficult answer of dealing with what he's told me, I can only nod my head and whisper a very unconvincing, "Yes."
The effects of what's happened tonight, and I'm sure reliving what happened in the past, are evident on his drawn face and in his haunted eyes. Without thinking twice, I step forward once more and reach for him.
"Just give me some time," I ask him again. I'm not sure exactly what I need the time for, but I know my mind is spinning off in a hundred different directions, like a spirograph, each thought like the different holes, each changing the final picture.
"As much as you need. I'm not going anywhere," he tells me again.
His voice wavers. I know I'm hurting him but I have more than myself to think about.
A gust of wind makes me shiver. "Go inside, Bella, before you get sick."
I don't want to tell him goodbye because it feels like it means so much more than that, though at the same time I realize I'm being foolish. He has to go to work in a few hours and so do I. It doesn't make it any easier to say the words … so I don't.
"I'll see you soon, okay?" My heart breaks just a little bit more when I see the spark of hope those words give him.
He steps forward and kisses my forehead. He leaves his lips pressed against my skin and all I can feel is a rush of warmth and an instant sense of comfort and home … and love. I swallow a sob, and he whispers in a rough, uneven voice, "I never meant to hurt you, Bella. I never expected to find you and Peyton. If I'd have known you both would be in my life, I would have done so many things differently."
I clutch at his chest burying my nose in his shirt. We stand that way for a few moments before he kisses the top of my head one more time and then takes a step backward. My heart feels like it's shattering in tiny increments and it's on the tip of my tongue to beg him not to leave but I know he has to. He obviously feels the same way, and his gray eyes shimmer beneath his tears. Wordlessly, he steps forward again and takes my face in his hands. His lips close over mine and he kisses me, gently, lovingly, even though his hands shake as he holds me.
He ends the kiss with a swipe of his tongue over my lips and then a whisper in my ear, "You know me, Bella. The real me. Remember that."
And with that, he walks toward his bike, gets on, and then drives off … all without looking back.
I stand unmoving, watching until the sound of his bike fades and I can no longer see the red of his taillights. As soon as the silence envelopes me, I can feel myself falling apart. Tears spill as I make my way back into the house, falling to the floor as soon as the door closes behind me.
He's gone.
I sent him away.
For hours I sit, my mind like a swarm of bees, buzzing and flitting in mindless chaos. Edward, prison, Evan, water, Peyton, smiles, touches, death, blood, fear, hope, new beginnings, goodbyes … love. A hodgepodge of words and feelings without rhyme or reason and that only serve to leave me more confused as each minute passes by.
I stand and stretch when I can no longer sit on the floor and walk toward the window. The sun has just begun to rise and it's raining again. Fitting, I think, because today I want to cry. I rest my fingers against the cool, wet glass, staring out into the gray morning, the gray of Edward's eyes I immediately think, and with that, the tears come again as I wonder where in the hell I go from here.
~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~
Charlie POV
"Née, are you okay, honey?" I ask, coming to a stop when I see my wife staring out the window in the sunroom.
She doesn't turn around and look at me, which is something that's totally out of the ordinary. From the tilt of her head to the left and not the right, and the way her shoulders are tense, to the fact that the coffee pot isn't even turned on yet, I know that there's something brewing in that gorgeous head of hers. I'm not talking about what today's special at The Breakers is going to be or what to buy Peyton the next time she goes to Ellsworth either, but the kind of thoughts that swirl and howl like the storm last night.
I wait a moment before going to her, my heart expanding and my stomach bouncing around like a damn beach ball; the same as it has every day for over thirty years. Even after all this time, Renée's still the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on. I love her more, standing here in the house we've raised our kids in, than I did on my wedding day when my old man handed me a scotch and cigar and told me if I ever hurt her, he'd stuff me in a lobster pot and throw my ass overboard in the middle of the Atlantic.
Our life hasn't been easy. There have been days when leaving her in the morning feels like I'm ripping my heart right out of my chest and I'm positive when I get home, she won't be there, but the good days far outweigh the bad ones. It hurts like a bitch at times knowing I've put her through hell and back, but she's always there to give me a smile or a swift kick in the ass when I need it.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
I walk up behind her, wrapping my arms around the waist that's barely bigger than it was the day I first laid eyes on her in a tiny blue and white polka-dotted bikini. Every guy on the beach stared at her that day but luckily for me, it was my eyes she looked back at and gave a flirty, sexy smile to. I've never regretted a moment since.
"What's got you all wound up this morning," I whisper against her bare shoulder, kissing right in the middle of the smattering of freckles that always drive me crazy.
She relaxes against me, her body molding against mine, and sighs. She runs her index fingers over the multitude of scars that cover the backs of my hands, and her touch is as soft and gentle as ever. I watch her fingers, the same ones that wiped the tears from Bella's face when she'd fall down and scrape her knees trying to keep up with the boys and the ones that shook the first time she held Emmett after he was born.
The strongest hands I know.
"Do you think she was okay last night?" she asks softly, leaning her head back against my shoulder as I hold her closer.
"Hmmm, I'm sure Xavier stayed with her like he always does. I'm sure she's fine, honey," I tell her, wincing a little. The fact that Bella is still so terrified of storms after all this time weighs heavily, like an anchor. The worst part is knowing there isn't a damn thing I can do about it either.
For all that I adore and cherish her, Bella's as headstrong as the day is long. Until she asks for my help, I'm relegated to the sidelines, watching and waiting. I'd like to say she's just like her mama, but she's even more stubborn than Renée.
"She spent the night over here on Wednesday," Renée says after a few minutes of silence.
That surprises me … a lot. "Is she okay?"
She turns her head to the side and gives me a smile … one of those that lets me know she knows way more than she's telling me. "She will be."
I raise my eyebrows. "Care to elaborate?"
Renée turns back toward the window. I wait. I learned long ago never to rush my wife when she has something she wants to tell me. It's as infuriating as all get-out at times, but it's who she is. I wonder for a moment why she didn't tell me last night about their talk and then fight back a grin as I remember neither of us were up for much talking by the time I made it home. A few days away from my woman always makes coming home worthwhile.
"She had some questions. We had a good talk," she begins and when I snort to let her know she needs to give me more than that, she goes on to tell me what they talked about. Most doesn't surprise me, some does, though, especially the part about Evan.
"Do you really think she's ready to let him go?"
She sighs and shrugs her shoulders. "I know she wants to, but whether she can or will is something only she knows. It's time for all of you to let him go," she says, mincing no words.
I huff and tighten my grip on her. Laying my chin on her head, I close my eyes, fighting back the guilt I still feel whenever I think about Evan. It's a constant battle because every time I see Bella or Peyton, I'm reminded of what I've done.
"Renée," I whisper roughly. I don't want to argue with her about this again. It's truly the only thing we've never seen eye to eye on.
"No, Charlie," she answers back, spinning around to look at me. She reaches up and grabs my face. Her eyes are pained, but determined. "You, Emmett, and Bella have to deal with this once and for all. What happened to Evan was a tragedy, but it was an accident. None of you forced him to be on that boat."
I'm shaking my head before she's even finished, gritting my teeth and clenching my jaw.
"Née," I say brokenly, all the remorse and anguish I carry with me rushing to the surface.
"It. Wasn't. Your. Fault!" she raises her voice and says again, fighting her own internal battles.
Neither of us say anything for a few moments as we let the tension lessen between us. "Charlie, we all have to deal with this; it's way past time. Bella really cares about Edward. Hell, she's half in love with him already, even if she's too scared to admit it. Peyton adores him and they both need him every bit as much as he needs the two of them. It's going to be hard enough when she finds out where he's been the last seven years. She doesn't need to add Evan's ghost following her around on top of it."
"I loved that kid, as much as if he was our own," I murmur.
"We all did and we always will. Without him, we wouldn't have Peyton," she says, her voice instantly soft. "It's even worse because we lost Peter and Kate because of what happened. Peyton only knows one set of grandparents, not the people who used to be our close friends. She doesn't know what an amazing man her father was. It's way past time to let it all go, Charlie; for Bella's sake, for Peyton's, and for yours and Emmett's. If Bella wants any chance to make something with Edward, you all have to do it."
I sigh, knowing she's right and I tell her so. "You're right." I smile at her. She grins and snorts, enjoying my admission way too much. I reach for her again, needing to feel her close to me. "How do you think she'll take it when Edward tells her? That kid's been worrying himself sick about it."
He has, too. Every day I watch him and every day I can see it take its toll on him a bit more, the last three days especially. Something happened between him and Bella on Sunday, I'm sure of it, because when he showed up for work Monday morning, he was a million miles away. All throughout the day as he worked tirelessly beside Emmett and Jasper, he'd reach up and rub his pocket and the goofiest smile would appear on his face. The boys teased him mercilessly about it, but he never answered their questions, no matter how much they nagged him about it. One night while Emmett and Jasper were below deck, I was working on charts in the wheelhouse, plotting out the next day's dropping points, and watched him walk out onto the deck. The wind had picked up so the boat shimmied back and forth quite a bit, but it didn't faze him in the least. The boy definitely has his sea legs. He stood with his hands draped over the side, holding something in the palm of his hand. I couldn't see what it was from where I was sitting, but there was no mistaking the way he looked at whatever it was when he ran his fingers over it. Somehow I knew it was from my little pumpkin and though it made me a little sad to know I've got to share my time with her with one more person, I don't really mind so much.
When we made it back to the docks last night, the storm had just started and from the way Edward kept looking at the sky and then to his phone, I knew he was worried about Bella. He could barely stand up straight he was so tired, but I won't be at all surprised to find out he went to see her last night. He cares about her - there's no question about it.
He cares a lot.
Renée hasn't answered my question yet and when she gazes back at me, I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. Her eyes are pinched and her mouth's in a tight line - a sure sign she's about to say something I probably don't want to hear.
Damn it.
She moves to sit on the loveseat and I dutifully follow. Where she goes, I go. It's always been that way, always will, too. Pulling her legs up beneath her, I'm momentarily taken aback at just how much Bella and Peyton act like her, let alone look like her. Bella's been sitting that way since she was younger than Peyton.
Leaning forward, she rests her chin on her knees and looks out over our backyard. Speaking softly, she says, "I've watched Bella since the first day Edward arrived. Each day that's gone by, even those first few days when she was trying to convince herself she didn't want anything to do with him, she smiles a bit more … she laughs. That haunted look that's been there since the day Evan died fades a little bit at a time. I watch Peyton with him, the way her entire face lights up whenever she's talking to him. I watch the way he looks at the two of them, like they're his saving grace, a gift he never expected to find. I watch the way Jasper and Emmett interact with him, like he's their long-lost brother. Even Rose and Alice, I swear, between the two of them, always fawning over him or patting him on the shoulder."
I laugh along with her, and she turns to me, a soft, knowing smile on her face. "And you, Charles Alan Swan, that boy's had your number since before he even got here," she teases as she reaches over and swats my leg. I grab her hand and hold on to it, wondering where she's going with all of this.
I shrug my shoulders, not even bothering to deny what she's said. "It's true. After Carlisle first told me what had happened to him, I was already in his corner. He hasn't done anything since to make me regret my first impression either."
"Which is why there's so much more at stake now," she answers back immediately. Her voice is … fearful almost and my stomach twists itself into a knot. A chill walks up my spine. "Charlie, I can't watch Bella lose someone else … I just can't. She'd never recover if something were to happen to Edward. You know that's nothing but the truth."
Her words are like a bucket of ice water. I'm looking at her like an idiot with my mouth hanging open and my eyes blinking rapidly. "Née," I choke out, suddenly unable to breathe over the lump in my throat.
"When Edward tells Bella about Boston and if she still decides she wants him in her life, in Peyton's life, are you going to be able to handle the responsibility of making sure he comes home to her every night, safe and sound?" she asks quietly.
It's not like I haven't thought about it before, in passing, but to hear the question in such a concrete manner makes me sag against the back of the loveseat. I have the same responsibility to Rose and Alice as well, of course, hell, to Renée, too, but the fact that Bella has already lost someone to the ocean makes her different.
Not any better, not any more deserving … just different.
"Ah, hell," I groan, closing my eyes as I rest my head against the back of the couch.
She curls up beside me, wrapping her arms around me and laying her head where she's always fit like she was made solely for me. "I know." She sighs, twisting my shirt in her hand. "I was as honest as I could be with her the other night, Charlie, but until Bella decides what she wants as far as Edward's concerned, it's just a waiting game for all of us. I don't think she realizes how much her decision will affect everyone, not just her and Peyton. We all need him as much as he needs us. I don't care that he's been in prison for the past seven years. He's a good man, and he's what she needs. She's scared, and rightly so, and unsure if she can handle watching him leave every day. On top of that, she's going to have to deal with his past, one which has left an indelible mark on him. He's seen things, probably done things in order to survive, to keep himself safe while he was incarcerated … it's just going to be a lot for Bella to deal with."
I take a deep breath again and then bend forward, running my lips along the side of her face. "I'm sorry that who I am makes your life so difficult sometimes," I whisper. I've never had a problem showing affection toward my wife - hugs, kisses … touches that make her squeal in delight, are an everyday occurrence. However, I know I don't tell her with words as often as I should that I understand how hard things are sometimes. Not that she doesn't know that I worship the ground she walks on, because everyone knows that, but I'm not the best at acknowledging the things she's sacrificed so that I can do what I was born to do.
She growls then raises her head, her eyes alight with fire and ice at the same time. Reaching up, she grabs my head firmly in her very strong hands, holding me in place as she stares at me. I try to look away from the anger and the hurt I see shining back at me but she holds me still. "Oh no you don't, Charlie Swan. You don't get to say shit like that then try to hide when I call you on it."
She sits up on her knees and I wrap my arm around her waist, holding her close to me. "You know that from the very first moment we met, or rather your dumbass friends bet you to come talk to me that I've been head over heels in love with you. You told me right away what to expect from you and I've never regretted one second. Sure there are times that are hard, and sure I sometimes wish for vacations in sunny Mexico, or hell even the shore in New Jersey, but I've never, ever had second thoughts about loving you. You and I have made our life here and I couldn't imagine a better one if you gave me my choice from all the fairy tales ever written." Her voice falters, her eyes shimmer with tears, and my heart thumps in my chest. "Emmett has Rose, Jasper has Alice … Seth has Xavier, and it's time for Bella to have the happiness we all have. Our lives aren't easy, but they're full of love and family and friends. She deserves to enjoy that with someone, Edward if that's who it winds up being, instead of watching from the sidelines. I just want her to be happy. I think Edward will be her Prince Charming if she listens to her heart and not her head."
"Am I your Prince Charming?" I tease, waggling my eyebrows just enough to make her giggle, sounding every bit like Peyton.
She looks at me shrewdly and tries to keep a straight face until she can't help but grin back at me. "Yep." She nods and then kisses me until I see stars. "Always have been, always will be."
I take a breath, feeling lightheaded and punch-drunk, but I need to get moving. It'll be a relatively short and hopefully easy day, just a quick trip out and back today. I know the guys are exhausted and we just need to catch enough for local sale and then we'll be done. I have a sinking feeling that even a short day is going to be too long for Edward and Bella. Between the storm last night, the way Edward looked, and hearing what Renée and Bella talked about while we were gone, it's only a matter of time before everything comes to a head.
"Okay, you sexy woman you, enough of this funny business." I pinch her ass and then lift her off my lap, setting her on her feet. "I need to get to the docks and check on things." I stand up, kissing her one more time because, well, she's my wife and I always want to kiss her. "I'll see you tonight for dinner," I tell her. Even with the dread that's clawing at me, I can't stop the smile that spreads across my face when I see her cheeks flush and can tell she's breathing faster.
Once my coffee is made and I have a breakfast sandwich in my hand, I'm off and heading toward the boat. When I pull up to the docks and Edward's bike isn't anywhere to be found, I groan and mutter a quick, quiet, "ah fuck," because Edward's been here before me since he started working.
I don't wait for him, though I'm tempted to, and make my way to the boat. I've been in the wheelhouse a good ten minutes when I hear footsteps on the deck and frown when it's just Emmett and Jasper. I glance at my watch and realize that if Edward's not here in another few minutes, I'll be going without him. Just about that time, I hear his bike and glance in his direction. As soon as he's off the bike and walking toward the boat I can tell that something most definitely happened last night - a feeling that's only magnified when he steps on the boat and walks straight toward the bait table without saying a single word. Jasper and Emmett both look at me like I'm supposed to have all the answers, and I simply shrug my shoulders and go back to the wheelhouse. I don't have time to waste nor the inclination to butt my nose in where it's not needed or certainly not wanted.
I watch Edward all day as he works, rigid and tense. He looks positively haggard: dark circles under his eyes, a somber expression on his face, and an air of total resignation hangs over him like a rain cloud hanging over Eeyore. Emmett and Jasper try to engage him in conversation only to have their attempts fall on deaf ears. Even during our break in the afternoon, he remains in a stony silence. As each hour passes, I watch his insides eat him alive as he fights whatever internal battle he has going on, and my trouble radar is on in full force.
The day is as short as I'd hoped this morning. When we dock, Emmett and Jasper give it one more try to engage Edward, inviting him to grab dinner inside and then go play some pool, but at the mention of The Breakers, Edward looks positively green.
"Shit," I mutter, realizing exactly what happened last night.
Emmett and Jasper give him one last hopeful look but when he doesn't move, they make their way to the restaurant.
"Bella knows?" I ask as I step beside him.
The breath he lets out is shaky. It sounds as if just letting the air out of his lungs is painful.
"Yes."
Well that certainly explains a lot. No wonder it looks like he's barely holding it together. Ignoring my usual inclination to let things play out, I ask carefully, "How'd she take it?"
Part of me is bracing myself for him to tell me she freaked the hell out and screamed bloody murder while threatening to call 911, but the other part is holding out hope that she heeded Renée's words and thinks before she acts.
I love my baby girl with a sickness, but damn if she doesn't make me crazy at the same time.
He snorts and then runs his hands through his hair. He turns to look at me and his eyes are haunted, almost desperate. "Better in some ways than I thought she would, worse in others," he trails off, choking on the words.
"What happened?" It makes me a bit uneasy to ask, but I do it anyway.
Knowing what Bella and Renée talked about the other night, the fact that she's trying to move past what happened with Evan is all the incentive I need. If I need to give a little push here and there to help both Edward and Bella deal with the truth of his past, I'm going to do it … and do it willingly. Ever since he came to my house and laid his cards on the table as far as Bella and Peyton are concerned, I've known his feelings for both of them are strong, stronger even than he's probably admitted to himself. Same as my Bella's for him.
She's made her choice, even if she can't see it yet.
He throws himself down on a flipped-over bait bucket and bangs his head against the railing. I lean against the wheelhouse, arms crossed over my chest, and wait. He picks his head up and shakes it, saying, "I got worried about her and Peyton being alone in the storm, raced over there like a bat out of hell, burst through the front door like a man possessed, turned into an over-dramatic pussy because Xavier was there, then blurted out I'd been in prison for the last seven years, like a complete dumbass."
I stare at him, wide-eyed, and then chuckle. When he glares at me, I hold my hands up. I don't want to piss him off or make him think I'm laughing at him … even though I am. "I swear between the two of you." I shake my head. "The timing probably wasn't ideal, but it's probably better you told her that way. Lord knows you've been giving yourself ulcers trying to figure out how to tell her. At least this way, it's done."
"I guess," he says, though he doesn't sound terribly convinced.
"What did she do?" Again, I brace myself for the worst because really, the kid looks like utter hell so I can only imagine how Bella might look.
Edward bends over and rests his elbows on his knees, holding his head in his hands. "It was so hard, Charlie," he says quietly, his voice laced with years and years of regret and pain. "She was shocked of course, didn't believe me when I first told her. Then she asked me to tell her everything and I did. I didn't want to tell her because I knew it would hurt her, but I want her to know. She's the first person I've told everything to."
Edward repeats what he told Bella, including what happened the night he was arrested. I knew most of it of course, but hearing the details directly from his mouth is even worse than reading it in black and white. My God, what the poor boy has been through. When he's done talking, a heavy, tense silence fills the air for a moment because I have to let Edward wrangle his emotions back under control. I can't imagine it was any easier talking about it all the second time around than the first. As he sits there, breathing in and out, my respect for him grows even more than before. To listen to him accept his fault for what happened, to admit he made horrible, life-altering mistakes … to hear his true remorse for the pain and suffering he caused his grandfather tears me up inside.
He doesn't move as he continues to take deep breaths in and out. I hesitantly ask, "What happened after you told Bella everything?"
"She told me she needed some time and that I should leave."
Hearing that kills me, but in all honesty, it's a good thing because it shows that Bella is going to think before she acts … a huge thing as far as she's concerned.
I tell Edward exactly that. "That's good, Edward." He lifts his eyes to mine; eyebrows raised and looking at me like I'm stark raving mad. I nod. "It is," I reiterate. "Normally Bella would pop off the first thing that she thought of, but in this case, she's taking some time to digest it all. Give her some credit, son," I say, a bit over-protectively. I like the kid, but Bella's my baby … she comes first … always. "It's a lot to take in at one time. Give her a chance to think things through. I'm sure she'll come to you before too long. She really cares about you."
I feel a bit uneasy, like I'm giving him permission for something he hasn't even asked me for yet, but I don't take the words back. I'm not sorry I said them either. I keep hearing Renée's words tumble around in my mind, reminding me that there's a lot more at stake here than just the two of them.
"She ran after me and made sure I wasn't leaving Corea," he says as he stares off into space. "As if I could leave her or Peyton now." He shakes his head and I'm not sure he knows or even meant to say those words out loud.
If I needed any additional proof to show me how he feels about Bella and Peyton, I sure as hell don't anymore.
"Just give her the time she needs, Edward. Things will be okay."
He shrugs his shoulders but I can tell that my words have helped, even if just a little.
I start to stand up straight again but he surprises me when he says, "Bella thinks it's her fault Evan died, doesn't she?" His words are said quietly, but they knock the breath out of me as if I'm a wave crashing into the rocks.
I don't answer him. I can't.
"That's something you'll have to talk to her about, Edward," I tell him when I'm finally able to find my voice. "I didn't tell her your story; I won't tell you hers, either. You two need to talk, tell each other everything. There's more to consider than just the two of you, you know," I warn. I might be overstepping, but there's no way in hell I'll let either of them forget that Peyton has as much at stake as the two of them do. "There's a little girl that lights up brighter than the sun whenever you're around. We all love Peyton. I have not one doubt that you do, too. I also don't doubt that she loves us just as much, but you, Edward, you she loves more than her little body is even capable of holding."
I swipe at my eyes and notice him do the same. Pumpkin tends to bring out the sap in all of us it appears. "You don't have any idea how much you've affected Peyton, changed her since you've been here. You've done the same for Bella, but it's like Peyton has blossomed right before our eyes. She's been waiting for you; we just didn't know it until you got here."
"I … I ..." He tries to speak, but can't and I don't force him. I know what he's going to say anyway.
"Be patient, Edward. Bella will come to you once she's had time to process everything. Keep the faith; things will work out." I squeeze his shoulder and then step off the boat, leaving him to his thoughts.
The drive home passes in a blur and I'm surprised when I pull up in the driveway and find Emmett's Jeep parked behind Renée's car.
I walk into the house and am greeted with angry voices, one on top of the other.
"Fuck, Bella, the guy's a damn felon!" Emmett yells. "There's no way in hell you can even think about letting him be around Peyton anymore! Are you out of your damn mind? Hell, when Dad finds out about this, Edward's ass will be on his bike and out of town before it gets dark."
"You were just fine with him playing kissy face with me last weekend, Emmett," Bella yells right back. "And he saved that man's life, or did you forget that important piece of information? Yes, he made a mistake by being there in the first place, but he did the right thing when it mattered and spent seven years in prison for something he didn't even do!"
"Well, yeah, he saved the guy, but still. What else is he hiding, Bella? How do you know there's not more?" he asks and Bella doesn't answer. "It doesn't matter anyway. When Dad hears what he's done and where he's been, Edward's outta here."
I step into the kitchen and find not only Emmett and Bella, but Renée as well.
I walk toward Bella and kiss her on top of the head and then stand beside Renée, turning to face Emmett. "I know everything, Emmett. I have before Edward even got here."
BPOV
He knew?
It takes a second for that fact to compute and when it does, I'm not even sure what to think … how to feel.
I watch Emmett's face as Dad's words register. Surprise, confusion … then anger all have a turn, but it's the anger that remains once the others fade.
"What the hell, Dad? You knew and didn't tell me? Didn't tell Bella that the guy she was spending time with, that she let Peyton spend time with, was an ex-con? What in the hell is the matter with you?" Emmett rages.
I watch Dad grit his teeth and take a few deep breaths before he says, "Excuse me, Emmett. I didn't realize that who I hire to work on my boat had to be run past you."
The tone of Dad's voice stops Emmett dead in his tracks, but he's so mad that his face is beet red and I would swear he's seconds away from having steam pour out of his ears. I'm too busy concentrating on the two of them that the sense of shock I feel at hearing Dad say he's known about Edward all along is suppressed. I'm sure it won't be for long.
Emmett splutters and then glares at Dad, arms crossed tightly across his chest. Dad stares back at him, his eyes hard and unyielding, until he looks at me. They turn soft in an instant, and I can feel myself crumbling right in front of him.
"'Ah, baby girl," he says gently and then squats down beside me and pushes my hair back behind my ear. "Are you okay?"
I shrug my shoulders at him which just sets Emmett off again. "Fuck no, she's not okay! Edward's lied to her since he got here. He's lied to all of us … well, everyone except you apparently," he snaps.
Dad leaves his hand on my leg, rubbing it back and forth in a soothing motion. He sighs then faces Emmett again. "Son, he hasn't lied to anyone, he just didn't say where he's been."
"Semantics," Emmett waves off petulantly.
"I'm not going to argue with you, Emmett. I had to be told about what happened to Edward when Carlisle asked me to give him a job. I talked it over with your mom," he says and my eyes meet his and then slide over to my mom's. She nods her head and once again I'm reeling.
They both knew.
Emmett opens his mouth and Dad stands and holds his hand out. "Enough," he barks and Emmett mashes his lips closed, though it's done with difficulty.
Emmett stares at the three of us before pushing himself off the counter and stomps toward the back door. "Whatever, Dad," he hisses. "Let's just hope one night none of us wake up and find all our shit gone or a gun in our face," he says as he flings the door open then slams it behind him.
The silence he leaves in his wake is deafening. Unable to stop myself, I say softly, emphatically, "Edward would never do that." I know it, too, believe it with all my heart.
"Of course he wouldn't," Dad says gruffly and then sits down next to me.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask, turning to look at him.
"It's not my story to tell, sweetheart. I hired him to work on the boat, nothing more. I had to be told of the circumstances following Edward's parole and the special consideration he was given in order to be able to come to Corea. When I first met him, all I cared about was whether or not I could trust him to work for me, nothing more. If I didn't feel like I could, I never would have given him a job."
I think that over for a moment and feel better knowing that my dad has trusted Edward from the very beginning. Between Peyton and him, I feel like Edward has his very own personal cheering section. A quick glance at my mom, who is nodding in agreement with my dad, makes me feel even better.
"Bella, I'm sure when Edward decided to move here, he never planned on meeting you and Peyton. He just wanted to start over in a place that was familiar and brought back good memories. If it makes you feel better," he reaches for my hand and covers it with his large, strong one, "I know he's really struggled with you not knowing."
My heart flies to my throat. "How do you know that?" I'm relieved to hear it, even if I'm still upset he waited so long.
Dad scrubs his face with the hand that's not holding mine and then purses his lips for a moment before he looks at me again. "He came by the house a few weeks ago, shortly after you had him over for dinner the first time and asked me what everyone knew about him. He was worried because to him it felt like he was lying to the people he's come to care about. He also asked if I minded that he spent time with you and Peyton."
"What did you tell him?" I question, desperate to know.
"Baby, it doesn't matter what I think; what matters is what you think. How do you feel about what happened to him?"
I rub my temple with my free hand. My head is pounding, lack of sleep and crying all night has left me feeling like death warmed over. That immediately has me wondering about Edward and I gasp. "How was he today?" I cry out.
He sits back in his chair and sighs, which pretty much tells me everything I need to know. My heart twists in my chest at the thought of how upset and exhausted he must be.
"He's fine," Dad tells me, but the tone of his voice lets me know he's just trying to make me feel better. It doesn't work; in fact it only makes things worse.
"Dad," I warn and he huffs.
Wincing, he answers slowly, "He's upset, Bella." My eyes fill with tears and he squeezes my hand and looks at me with a mixture of sadness and hurt. "He's worried about you, sweetheart, more than anything else. He knows what he told you wasn't easy to hear, and the way he told you wasn't the best either." He chuckles at that last bit.
I can't help but grin a little, because really blurting it out like he did wasn't ideal, but how he told me doesn't matter at all in the grand scheme of things.
"He told you?"
Dad nods and says, "If it matters, what he told you matches everything I've read and knew already."
I don't realize how much it does matter until the knot in my chest loosens just a bit at his words.
"I don't know what to think," I whisper. I'm not sure I intended to say the words out loud, but it doesn't make them any less true.
Neither of my parents say anything and their silence makes me edgy. I stand up and begin to pace, nervous energy pumping in my veins. Not to mention that the lull in the conversation lets all the thoughts and feelings I've been trying to ignore all day rush up to the surface like a geyser. And like a geyser, I spew.
"I mean, Edward has spent the last seven years in prison … prison!" I screech like neither one of them heard me the first time. "And yeah, I get that he was an accessory and all that, but he didn't do anything wrong. I mean he didn't know that … that piece of shit he thought was a friend was going to shoot anyone. He could've run but he didn't. He stayed and did the right thing. I mean, he saved that man's life and because of that, he'll have to live with being labeled a felon for the rest of his life."
I squeeze my eyes shut so tightly I see splotches of white and my chest feels like it did when Seth and Xavier threw me in the ocean in the dead of winter in high school. Like, I can't catch my breath and it hurts to even try. "Can you imagine what he went through when he was inside? I've seen movies; I know what happens in there! And that scar on his neck? I know that's where it came from. I can't even picture what caused it, but I know it must have been awful.
"And what the hell kind of lawyer did he have that he had to serve that sentence? Didn't it count for anything that he saved that man's life? I just don't get it," I say, shaking my head.
All the things I thought about during the day keep swirling around. I have so many questions.
I wrap my arms around my stomach and face the windows, letting my mind wander down the dark paths I've tried to keep myself from following since his admission. My heart breaks for Edward when I think about the nightmare he's had to live through the past seven years. That's what scares me almost as much as the fact he's working on the water. What has being in prison done to him? Can I expose Peyton to that? Should I?
I know he adores her. I trust him with her, without question, but is it right to subject her to the aftermath of him dealing with … everything? I have no idea what he was like before he got here or before he went to prison. All I know is the Edward I see now, the one that plays XBOX and is best friends with a seven-year-old. What if he has a horrible temper? What if he starts doing drugs again or drinking just to get drunk? I really have no idea.
I'm a good judge of character … my dad and Peyton even better. Is it possible we're all wrong about him or can I trust myself, and trust him enough to believe in the Edward I know now? The one that makes my heart soar and makes me smile like I haven't ever before just by looking at him. The one that adores my daughter as if she's his very own personal sun?
"Bella, you're going to need to talk to Edward to get those answers," my mom tells me softly after I haven't spoken for a few minutes, too wrapped up in my own mind to even finish our conversation.
I sigh. "I know."
The sound of the chair scraping makes me jump but before I can even turn around my dad has walked over to me. He pulls me into his arms and I … just let everything go. I cry against his chest, for everything Edward has gone through, for Evan, and out of sheer confusion.
"It'll be okay, baby girl," Dad whispers and kisses the top of my head. "Take some time to think and then talk to Edward. Don't let your brain talk your heart out of what it wants, if what it wants is Edward. Give him a chance to explain, listen to what he has to say, ask what you need to know, but don't be afraid to take a leap of faith either, Bella."
"Peyton would kill me if I sent her best friend away." I sniff and smile at him. It falls immediately when he doesn't smile back.
He frowns and pushes my hair over my shoulder. His voice is serious, deadly serious, and he shakes his head and says, "Don't make this decision based on what Peyton wants. There's no reason why Edward can't still be in her life if you decide you don't want him in yours. This is about you, Bella, and what you want and need. Peyton is the most important person in your life, as she should be, but your happiness is every bit as important as hers is."
I let his words hang there and I absorb them. My mind wraps around them like shrink wrap, air tight and impenetrable. They tumble around over and over again until they stop. I deserve to be happy. I do. I wanted Edward yesterday, needed him. That didn't change overnight. He makes me happy and knowing what I do now doesn't change that fact; in fact knowing more about him just makes me feel closer to him. The thought of Edward not being in my life … hurts.
A lot.
For the first time, in a long time, I want to do something for me.
I want Edward.
~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~
