There is one who you belong to, whose love- there is no song for.
And though you know it's wrongful, there is someone else you long for.
Your heart was once a vessel, it was filled up to the brim;
Until the day he left you, now everything sings of him.
Of the two who came to love you, to one, your heart you gave.
He lives in stars above you- in the love who came and stayed.
December 2011
BPOV
(36 weeks)
I feel as big as the house itself. I intended to get dressed for the library Christmas party, but I'm so bloated and fat that nothing wants to fit. Struggling to pull on fleece-lined leggings, I find myself panting and exhausted on the bed. I may just have to stay home until I deliver.
After catching my breath, I manage to pull on my maternity sweater and shove my swollen feet into soft boots. Baby girl must be sleeping, because she's been very still and peaceful. I rub circles over the distended part of my fuzzy sweater, and I find comfort in that. The thought of the baby reminds me that I've spent so much time writing letters back and forth with Edward lately, and I feel like we're ready to see each other in a few weeks. Things are looking bright for our future. If I can just get off the bed.
Heaving myself up, I grab my coat and scarf, adding the gloves and hat before dashing out the door. It's so damn cold out, my nose is icy by the time I get in the truck. I turn the heat up all the way, letting the truck idle until it's comfortable. The drive to the library is fairly short, almost making waiting on the heater pointless.
I scan the faces as I step in the front doors, and they close behind me with a quiet whoosh. I see Carmen and Eleazar, the assistant librarian Charlotte and her husband Peter, and the other volunteer, Kate. I think she told me her boyfriend's name is Garrett. Though I may live to regret it, I invited Jacob, and I crane my neck to see if he's there; why, I'm not at all sure, since he'd tower over the stacks. Not seeing him, I decide to make my way to Carmen's side as I peel off my winter wear. Things like this make me feel incredibly uncomfortable, which is in part why I invited Jake in the first place. I need someone to hide behind.
"Hello, Carmen, Eleazar," I say as I approach.
"Chabela, how are you and the tesoro? Feeling well?" Eleazar asks.
"Ah, Bella," Carmen says as she hugs me. "I'm so glad you made it. . .Um, are you alone?"
Before I can answer either of them, I turn to look in the direction of Carmen's raised eyebrows and see that Jake has just come in the doors. I watch as he looks around the room the way I did, and then he heads towards our little group.
"He's a friend, that works in my obstetrician's office. He had nowhere to spend the holidays." I feel defensive, then shake off that ridiculous emotion. He is a friend. And then he reaches us, and I see the possessive gleam in his eyes as he looks me over, see his hand twitch towards my belly, and I hold out a hand to stop him. In an effort to make it not look like a rebuff, I take his hand to draw him to us, then let go.
"Hey, Bella," he says comfortably. Nothing ever fazes Jacob.
"Jake. This is Carmen, the head librarian, and her husband Eleazar. This is Jacob; he and I played together as kids in La Push, where he's from." I ignore the look on Eleazar's face as he and Jake greet each other. He looks less than happy that I brought someone along.
Jake and I got past our argument when he apologized for overstepping and invited me to the reservation for Thanksgiving. I admitted that I'd probably overreacted. It was nearly impossible to stay mad at Jake, since literally nothing bothered him. We spent the day in his dad's tiny red house, the rooms almost too small with Jacob's large frame taking up so much space. Billy, who I remembered was at the funeral for my parents, refrained from commenting on my situation, instead treating me exactly like the daughter of one of his oldest friends. He and Jake had an easy relationship, ribbing each other constantly. It was comfortable, and Jacob behaved. We didn't have a traditional Thanksgiving, which was fine since it was just the three of us. Jacob's sisters rarely came home for holidays anymore, according to Jake. I guess the small reservation was too bumpkin for them, now that they were city girls.
Jake was my driver that day, so I napped on the way back home. It was the first time I'd allowed him to come to the house, and it was only a little awkward. It was strange to see him occupying the same space that used to contain Edward. He'd only been there a few minutes, sticking to the kitchen area, and leaving on his own suggestion. I was grateful for the way he treated the day, like we were friends and nothing more. Those were the times I felt closest to him, as though we could remain friends long after Edward and I reconciled.
"Jake, it's nice to meet you," Carmen says politely. El is not as pleasant.
"Have you heard from tu marido, Chabela?" he asks pointedly, staring Jake down much the way he looked at Mike that long ago day.
This only causes a pain to settle in my chest. I've spent so much time worrying about Edward and what he's doing for the holidays; at least I know he has his family.
"Not since his last letter a week ago. Ali texted me to ask how I was doing. I told her everything is fine, and I look forward to seeing them all at the wedding." I know that I will finally feel ready to talk to him, to all of them, by then.
"That's coming up soon, no?" Eleazar asks, and I start to feel like it's an inquisition.
Clearly I'm not the only one that thinks he's not being very subtle, because I catch the nonverbal exchange between him and Carmen.
"I'm sure Bella wishes to mingle, El. Let's let her be." She pulls him along as she heads to a different group.
I look up to Jake. "Have you grown taller since Thanksgiving?"
He laughs warmly. "I promise I haven't. Maybe if you weren't short as well as pale-faced, you wouldn't find me so tall." He grins, and it's an easy thing that passes between us, like brother and sister. We spend most of the party laughing and joking, and I get several looks from the other employees that make me wonder what they're thinking. We talk with Kate and Garrett, but they're a little young, and I find I have more in common with Charlotte. She and her husband are Seattle natives, and know everything there is to know about the city. We talk about the sidewalk cafes, and Jake and I tell them about our favorite. When Charlotte asks how long he and I have been together, I can only laugh. She's met Edward, so it seems like she's jumping to conclusions. Jake looks amused as he tells her we're just friends.
When it gets to be late, Jake asks if he can follow me home, and I readily agree. When we get to the house we run through the frosty air and I slam the front door behind us, leaning on it and laughing like a fool. When I push away from the door, I make my way into the kitchen and glance at the lovely poinsettias from Edward on the counter before setting up a tray and mugs for hot chocolate. Jake follows and sits on a stool at the counter, as I heat milk in a pan, stirring to make sure it doesn't boil too hard.
As I add the sugar and cocoa powder, I hear the stool scrape as Jake gets up. I feel his height behind me like a wall, the heat pumping off him in waves. I'm thinking he's standing too close, and as I turn off the burner, I suddenly feel very nervous.
Then his hand is on my shoulder, burning through my sweater, and he turns me around. I find myself tilting my head back to meet his gaze, my eyes traveling up his broad chest and strong shoulders, and I realize with a jolt that he's actually very attractive. I see as my eyes meet his that he's staring at me in a way that makes me think he wants to devour me. His hands run over my stomach as he reverently caresses the swell of my belly.
"It would be so perfect, Bella," he breathes huskily. "We're just right together, do you realize that? A perfect fit." His hands touch my face, and I realize how much I've missed such simple contact. His fingertips graze my jaw, and he dips his head closer to me. "You feel it too, don't you?" His warm breath fans across my face, and his mouth is mere centimeters from mine.
It would take nothing at all, I realize suddenly. An agreement between friends, my head nodding in consent, a tiny word, insignificant and monumental at the same time. I could take his hand, lead him up the stairs, and no more words would need to be spoken tonight. Could I betray my absent heart for one night of much needed comfort?
But I remember all the sweet letters, and this baby that is Edward's. That's Edward's bed, and I can't be anything other than Edward's wife.
I squeeze my eyes tightly closed. "You need to leave," I say softly on an exhale. I feel chilled as he moves away from me, taking his body heat with him.
I don't open my eyes until I hear the front door slam, and that resonating sound seems angry and final, but I can't find it in me to care.
I'm alone again, only this time I'm strong enough to endure.
The meaning behind the Poinsettia: December birth flower, symbolizes good cheer and success and is said to bring wishes of mirth and celebration.
Spanish translations:
Chabela- nickname for Isabella
Tesoro- treasure
Tu marido- your husband
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