Lay beside me, tell me what they've done
Speak the words I wanna hear, to make my demons run
The door is locked now, but it's opened if you're true
If you can understand the me, then I can understand the you
Lay beside me, under wicked sky
Through black of day, dark of night, we share this paralyze
The door cracks open but there's no sun shining through
Black heart scarring darker still, but there's no sun shining through
No, there's no sun shining through
No, there's no sun shining...
Come lay beside me, this won't hurt, I swear
She loves me not, she loves me still, but she'll never love again
She lay beside me but she'll be there when I'm gone
Black heart scarring darker still, yes, she'll be there when I'm gone
Yes, she'll be there when I'm gone
Dead sure she'll be there...
Lay beside me, tell me what I've done
The door is closed, so are your eyes
But now I see the sun, now I see the sun
Yes, now I see it
What I've felt, what I've known
Turn the pages, turn the stone
Behind the door, should I open it for you?
What I've felt, what I've known
So sick and tired, I stand alone
Could you be there? 'Cause I'm the one who waits,
The one who waits for you...
~ Metallica, The Unforgiven II
March 2011
The memorial service was absolutely brutal. It was her parents' wish to be cremated, so at least Bella was spared seeing their bodies. Mark had identified them for the coroner and done all of the paperwork, but we still had to work with the station on the final planning.
Bella was not present, not in any real way. It seemed she had retreated inside her head, shutting down her emotions. I called the funeral home, the florist, a caterer for afterwards. I'd called their estate planner, made arrangements to have their house closed up once we were done. Anything I had asked Bella's opinion on, she'd answered that I could do whatever I wanted.
She sat in the chair in the hotel room, not getting up, not eating, and barely responding when I spoke to her. I cajoled her into eating, but she only nibbled.
I expected it to be bad, for this sort of thing to be hard on her. I didn't expect her to be so absent.
Carlisle came to help me, and Esme tried to talk to Bella, but wound up sitting quietly next to her, holding her hand. I was grateful to have them there; the idea that your parents won't live forever is too much to dwell on, but I hugged them more tightly, incredibly reluctant to let go. Alice and Jasper arrived next, checking in to the Inn and finding our room. Bella wouldn't speak to them either, merely accepting their hugs and resuming staring out the window. Jasper tried to fill the silence with chatter, but it grated on my ears after so much quiet.
When Emmett and Rose showed up with little Vera, I finally saw some animation in my wife. It was impossible not to smile at an adorable, precocious nine month old, blonde curls bouncing as she tried to walk around holding on to the furniture. Her blue eyes were huge in her doll-like face, and she babbled away, offering toys and her sippy cup to Bella. I watched as Bella spoke softly to her, a gentle smile on her face.
It didn't last.
I helped her dress for the service, brushing her hair and offering her tissues when she teared up again. She cried endlessly that day, no matter what I said or did. The small town crowded the cemetery for their police chief and his wife, sobbing at the idea that a drunk driver caused such devastation. People offered condolences, which Bella robotically accepted. I tried to be gracious in her stead, but after awhile I was equally as robotic.
Bella flinched with each shot of the 21 gun salute and when Taps was playing tears continued to stream down her face. The interim Chief pulled his radio from his shoulder.
"5-4…5-4…Calling number 5-4…This is the last call for radio number 5-4. No response from Chief Charlie Swan. Radio number 5-4 is out of service after 34 years and 4 months of police service. Although you are gone, you will never be forgotten. Rest in peace, our friend. 10-42, end of watch."
There was nothing stopping the flow of tears that streamed down my face.
I spotted Mike Newton standing in the parking lot as we left, speaking to guests as they left as though he belonged with the family. I caught my father's eye, and he spoke quickly to Esme, who came and put her arms around a still-crying Bella.
My father and I walked calmly up to Mike, waiting silently as he finished talking to someone. When he was through, I tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to me, first with curiosity in his eyes, then recognition, and finally a kind of evil I've never seen before spread over his face. He looked to Bella over my shoulder, then sneered at me.
"How ya doin', Bella?" he asked. She turned and buried her face in Esme's shoulder. "Your mom's sweater was real pretty. Shame it had to end up with all that blood on it."
She gasped and snapped her eyes to his.
I'd had enough of the fear he put on her face. I held on to that look as I pulled my arm back, letting my fist fly with all of my pent-up anger at the way he'd treated my wife.
It was immensely satisfying to hear and feel the crunch under my fist as I broke his nose.
Carlisle rested his hand on my shoulder as I stepped back, watching as Mike doubled over, the blood pouring from his nose and dripping onto his shirt as he struggled to breathe. I think I heard him laughing.
"Don't ever come near Bella or my family again," I growled fiercely. When I turned, I realized that Emmett and Jasper were standing behind my father with two Forks deputies. I flexed my hand, enjoying the pain that meant I'd finally gotten the chance to lay that fucker out. I watched the deputies move toward Mike and speak to him before one pulled out his cuffs, then turned my back on them.
The rest of the day blurred by as we invited everyone to the Swan house. I could tell how hard it was on my wife, and I kept an arm around her as much as I could. We spent one more day in Forks before going back home.
~~~oOo~~~
April 2011
Bella was always either in bed or in a chair, staring at the wall or out the window. I couldn't get her to talk to me anymore. She skipped any form of hygiene and almost never ate. Her face was sallow, her eyes dull and sunken. I was very worried about her as March came and went.
I pleaded with her to speak to a counselor, a psychiatrist, even just our friends. She would just shake her head no. I found myself yelling at her, hoping for any kind of reaction.
I started working from home at the beginning of April, just to keep an eye on her. Emmett kept me in touch with what was happening in the office and if a client needed a face-to-face, he took the meeting for me.
As the days ticked by, I suddenly realized it was our second anniversary and Bella hadn't really spoken to me in about two months. I couldn't take it anymore, and searched until I found her upstairs in the bed. Frustrated, angry, and fed up, I walked to her side of the bed and yanked the covers off.
Bella looked up at me, blinking rapidly. She looked ill, and my fury stuttered. "Bella," I pleaded, much more gently than I first intended. She merely stared at me. "I know you're hurting, and Lord knows I'm aware how bad it's been for you." I knelt by the bed, running my hands through my hair and pulling on the ends. "The thing is. . .have you thought about me at all? I know you refuse to think of your own health, but has it occurred to you how hard this is on me?"
I felt like such a dick as her eyes welled up with tears. I'd hoped to gain a reaction, but not to make her feel worse. I sighed, scrubbing my face and trying to clear my head.
"At least have a shower and something to eat. It's been so long since you've done either. You're so thin, I'm worried about your health." When she still just looked at me, I went with the low blow. "It's our anniversary, Bella. This is not how I pictured the next year starting off." Something flickered in her eyes, hopefully a recognition for what I was saying. "Come on, please? I can't stand to be without you anymore. I miss my wife."
I held my hands out to her, shocked when she took them in hers. I helped her sit up, giving her time to adjust. I was so relieved that she was cooperating that I didn't think past my own agenda. After a few minutes, I picked her up, carrying her into the bathroom and setting her on the closed toilet as I started the shower.
I adjusted the water; even though she loves it hot, I was worried about burning her because she was so frail. I turned back to her, helping her stand and stripping her shirt and sweatpants. She was lifeless, a human shell just letting me go through the motions.
Squashing my own feelings, I urged her into the shower, soaping her hair and eventually stepping in with her to wash her off.
When she was clean, I handed her the toothbrush she kept in the shower, and was pleased when she took it and used it. There was more life in her eyes as we finished and turned off the water. I dried her off and wrapped her up in a towel, dragging off my own wet clothes.
I was stunned when I felt her arms around me, her small form pressed to my back. She was damp against my skin and her breath was hot on my shoulder blade. I turned in her arms, crushing her to me. I breathed in her clean hair, holding her tightly. I wasn't surprised when tears pricked my eyes and dripped onto her head.
She cleared her throat. "I'm so empty, Edward." Her voice was whispery, almost nonexistent. "Fill me up. Please, Edward."
Unsure, I stood frozen in my spot. It seemed like a bad idea. It was wrong.
"Please!" Her voice rose in a wheedling tone. "I need you, please, Edward."
I could never deny her anything, but hearing her beg almost killed me. "Are you sure?" I breathed.
She nodded against my skin. I lifted her gently, carrying her back to the bed. I frowned, thinking of how dirty the sheets must be. Setting her on her feet, I used one hand to pull the comforter up to the top, keeping the other hand on Bella in case she wasn't strong enough to stand alone.
She climbed onto the bed, smiling serenely up at me. I was still conflicted, but she opened the towel, tossing it away and beckoning to me. I wasn't sure what I was most ashamed of; the fact that I was agreeing to this, or that for once I was not aroused by my wife.
I settled on the bed next to her, running my hands soothingly up and down her body. Her arms, her legs, her belly. She quivered, shifting her legs, as I finally touched her breasts. Hesitantly, I stroked around each breast, then back to her throat, her arms. She rolled to face me, and I rubbed over her back. I was trying to relax, soothe, and reconnect, more than I was trying to entice.
She started to reach for me, then pulled back. She started again, this time connecting her fingertips to the skin of my abdomen. My body reacted, the muscles contracting and tensing, my dick now eager to play. It seemed I would always be attracted to Bella, and it took no more than her presence and her light touch to turn me on. I hissed as her hands roamed lower, seeking the hardening flesh between my legs. Tentative, hesitant touches and strokes flowed between us, like water over river rocks. Panting, kissing, low moans and loud sighs filled the air until I loomed over her, and she looked as gorgeous to me as the day we met. I gently slipped into her warmth, feeling her walls contract. She moaned quietly, and I felt like a new man after I'd starved so long for her affection.
Bella spurred me on with her delicate hands, clutching at my body as she trembled beneath me. I moved slowly, carefully, still afraid to hurt her. I braced one hand by her head, the other stroking her skin, tweaking a nipple, sliding down until I worked over her clit, feeling the corresponding flutters of her pussy. She was close, I could always tell, so I leaned down and captured her nipple in my mouth, gently biting down as my fingers circled and hips moved in and out.
High pitched, keening and sexy, Bella came undone in my arms. I followed her orgasm with my own, then rolled to her side and held her closely for several minutes until I heard her breathing even out as she fell asleep. I lay there awake, wondering what the fuck I had just done.
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