Edward isn't here now, but he was. He helped me off the floor the previous night and asked me gruffly what I'd gotten myself into.
"I can't tell you," I'd mumbled, like a song you hated played on repeat. I needed to fire my inner station manager.
"Of course not," he scoffed, turning from me as I adjusted my clothing and rubbed at the bruises forming. I took the opportunity to stare at his profile, with his sharp jaw clenched tightly in his anger. His brow was furrowed, tempting me to smooth the wrinkles over them.
"Did you really call the sheriff?" I questioned, hoping to bring my thoughts back to the present.
"No, I was bluffing, but I would have if I'd needed to." He finally turned the furnace of his gaze on me, and I stifled a gasp.
"I do want to tell you some things, and I'd like to think you can put the rest together after what you just witnessed." I motioned to the only chair in the room, which was usually pushed under my bistro table, but had been knocked over in the earlier scuffle. When he sat in the chair he righted, I took the edge of the bed. He looked on me with an inscrutable expression, and I fidgeted before beginning.
"I want to start by saying I was happy. My mom and I, we were happy." Something ugly flickered in his eyes, but I plowed on. "It took some work, I admit, and I always… I always missed us, you know? What we had, and the possibilities we dreamed about but that never came to fruition."
His long fingers scrubbed over his face and through his hair, but he said nothing.
"I hope you were, too," I said softly. "I hope you found happiness here without me, because that's all I wanted. I know I screwed everything up, and I know you hate me." I dropped my gaze to the comforter. "I thought it was because you found out I testified against Emmett."
"You did testify against him, Bella. Regardless of anything Ben or anyone else swears isn't true, that one huge fact is true. That fact will always be against you, sitting in the 'cons' column." His breathing became heavier, his fists clenching and unclenching in his lap. "You left total fucking chaos in your wake when you ditched town, and you want me to know you were happy?" he spit in indignation.
"I know. I know I did, and I want you to understand I had no choice. I can't tell you-"
"You can't tell me why, yeah, I got it." Edward stood, looking down on me.
"Please, Edward, I haven't finished!" I shouted in a panic, standing in front of him. "I want to make it right, tell you what I can. Maybe it can help your brother."
We stood there, staring each other down, my chest heaving and his eyes blazing. Finally his shoulders sagged and he sat back down. I tried to even out my breathing as I sank back to the bed. "I was coerced to testify." His head jerked in my direction and his eyes bored into mine. "I was threatened, and your life was threatened. I had no choice, Edward," I whispered.
He was silent for an interminable time as my mother's heirloom clock ticked loudly from my bedside table. Finally, he spoke. "And if you admit you lied, what would happen?"
"It would mean my life," I answered so quietly that it was an exhaled breath.
"Can I have his case appealed? He told me not to, you know. He said he would do the time and for me not to worry. Our parents have begged him, but he doesn't… he doesn't want us to waste our time on him." The anguish on his face was hard to deal with, especially now that I was trying to make it right.
"I don't know. I didn't see him that night, but I wouldn't be able to recant. You can't have my testimony thrown out." I trembled at the thought of Jacob finding out I'd gone against him with Edward's help. It couldn't possibly end well for either of us.
"At the funeral, when I spotted you. Charlie told me you were moving back because you were getting married."
Ah, it looked like that one stung. I narrowed my eyes. "My father is a pathological liar." I sighed heavily, shifting on my bed. "There was an… offer. I ignored it, and it was made again. The second time I ignored it, my mother was murdered to gain my compliance." My words fell heavily from my lips, the reality still brutal in my heart.
He gasped. "Renée was murdered? Charlie has told everyone it was a blood clot."
I closed my eyes against the compassion I saw in eyes so familiar they haunted my dreams. "I found her in the back yard. She was planting daisies." I swallowed, but the lump remained. "She had a rather large inheritance, which I believe was the sole reason Charlie married her. Only he didn't realize it was put into a trust by my grandfather- to be passed to her children- so Charlie eventually started beating her for failing him. After I paid for her final expenses, I put everything back in a trust, except what I'll need until her house sells. I don't want him, or anyone else, getting their hands on that money through me." I sensed movement, and I opened my eyes to find him standing in front of me, hand outstretched. I sat, frozen, as I watched him move incrementally closer, the fingertips of his right hand twitching just before making contact. The nerve endings in my cheek caught fire, skin tingling, body yearning. Hearts hoped, recognizing mates, pounding furiously. All at a simple stroke of warm fingers.
And then he was gone, striding out my door and slamming it behind him. I refuted the finality of that sound, racing behind him only to lose my courage and stop on my side of the barrier, flipping the locks and standing with my cheek pressed to the coolness, hoping to quell the burn. He'd listened, though I could tell him a thousand more things about my life and never grow tired.
"I have a daughter." I startled at the sound of his voice through the door. He hadn't left yet. Was he pressed to the other side, reflecting my pose?
"I- I know. Angela told me." I held my breath, waiting for him to make another sound, anything to indicate he was going to stick around.
"So you know… she's mine, but she's not… mine." His voice was muffled but clear, and I realized I could feel his presence.
I smiled, though of course he couldn't see. "She is yours, and she's beautiful." I bit my lip, trying not to cry.
"I have to go," his disembodied voice said before I heard footsteps retreating.
I thought maybe there was hope again, and when my heart settled its crazy throbbing, I smiled until my cheeks hurt.
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