Bella is going to be explicit with her injuries, which several people asked about.
When I woke a few mornings later, I heard angry voices exchanging beyond my door, with Edward's voice being immediately familiar. I thought the other belonged to his father. Shifting, I pushed myself up in the bed, adjusting the cannula that had replaced the hated mask. I coughed, and my chest ached it's rebuttal.
"Bella?" Edward stuck his head in the door, and I waved him in, still studiously trying to dislodge a lung.
He came in, tentatively creeping toward the bed, as though a threat lurked below it. His father hesitated in the doorway, and I thought I could understand the reluctance from Edward.
When the coughing subsided, I swallowed most of the water left on my small rolling table. "Hey," I croaked.
Edward fussed, patting my pillows and smoothing my hair. If it wasn't such a normal gesture for him I'd have assumed he was stalling.
"Dad wants to visit," he said quietly. He met my gaze, a crease marring his brow. "He's not your physician, you can say no," he said on a breath.
I shook my head. "It's fine. Really," I assured him when his frown deepened.
Carlisle cleared his throat, stepping with a colt's unsure gait toward my bedside. "I want to say thank you."
He stopped several feet away to make his declaration. I studied the lined face, the weariness obvious in the bags under his eyes, at the tight set of his lips.
"Why are you thanking me now?" I panted a bit at the end of my sentence.
"Because I should have before. I should have thanked you, and apologized to him." It didn't go unnoticed that he didn't meet my gaze.
Edward snorted. "It's too late for any of that, like I told you."
"It's never too late for gratitude, though I think the forgiveness might be harder won." I watched them, two people standing oceans apart. Not looking at each other, tucked into themselves. I took Edward's hand, tugged him to sit and relax.
"Well, I'm trying to make amends, but I know I'm too late for that. Still, I have to try." Carlisle licked his lips, gesturing uselessly with his hands. "I'll leave you be. I hope you get better quickly."
He backed out of the room, never looking directly at me. I knew that only the nurses truly looked at me, saw me. My parents and brothers stared at a spot over my shoulder, and Edward… he looked me right in the eyes.
"Sweetheart, you should work on forgiving him for your sake. It's a heavy burden to carry that around." My breathing wheezed in and out.
"What if I don't want to?" He shifted in his seat to better face me. "What if he doesn't deserve it, and it helps fuel my determination to be better? To be something other than him, what about that?"
"I think- I think your therapist would tell you that's unhealthy." My lungs labored with the effort to hold a conversation.
"Being in prison is like a slow death- fading away little by little each day until your basic humanity is lost. If you're lucky, you have a family member that visits you often enough to remind you of who you are. So, no, I don't feel any particular need to forgive him for not being that person. You want to know what I thought about, all those long and lonely days in prison?" he asked with a sudden burning intensity.
I frowned. We'd discussed it enough times that I thought I knew where he was going. I was wrong.
"You." I opened my mouth, but Edward stopped me. "Not you, because that would be freaky. But I dreamed that someone would come find me, someone that believed in me. I waited so long for you, Bella, and I almost lost you."
I lay there speechless as he folded over, dropping his head to my chest. I stroked his hair while the tears flowed down my cheeks. I knew he loved me; I could see it in his eyes every time he looked at me. My chest throbbed, and not from the pneumonia.
"Edward," I whispered. "I need you to look at me. To- to actually see me."
He sat up. I read uncertainty and reluctance on his handsome face, but there was no fear or doubt as he gently cupped my jaw and looked me over. My forehead had a healing gash from the car window, closed up with seven stitches. My left cheekbone had a long, jagged cut from the screwdriver he'd used to torture me. There was one by my right eye, and another down my throat near my jugular. The bruises that bloomed behind the force he'd used to cut my flesh with a dull tool had deepened to shades of amethyst and onyx. Which just made me feel better to say than black and purple. That inspection only included from the neck up; there were more on my arms, and they all had ugly bruises and stitches to go with them, with colors I didn't have the heart to name yet.
"I see you, and you're beautiful. It's your strength, and compassion, and intelligence that shine out of your very pores. Don't think I don't see what that fucker did, but it doesn't define you. What I see when I look in your eyes is your soul. Your soul is what defines you, Bella, and it's goddamn gorgeous."
A sob escaped my throat. "I love you, Edward. I love you so fucking much." All of my emotions rushed out of me and spilled onto him as I grabbed his face. I could only kiss his cheek, I was still contagious, but I did so gently. "I want out of this stupid bed so I can kiss and hold you properly."
"Here," he murmured, shifting so his hip lined up next to mine. I moved over, giving him room to sit next to me. He snaked his arm around my shoulders, and I snuggled into his side.
We sat quietly for a few minutes, until my door burst open. Our fathers stood there together, mine striding in purposefully.
"Bella, Edward."
Charlie came to a stop at the foot of my bed. Carlisle stayed near the door, looking only at his son.
"Aro DeLuca has been arrested. He was found on your property, Edward, attempting entry to the back of the house. Esme called the police, but I had a detail out on the road that had already called it in and moved in on him. He's facing a long list of charges, adding to what Varner was already laying on him for prisoner abuse."
"How is Mom?" Edward asked of his dad.
"She's coming. Her police detail is bringing her here," Carlisle replied stiffly.
There was a knock, and Rose stuck her head in. It seemed the party was in my room today. "Can I come in?" she asked in her soft voice.
Charlie looked back at her and held his hand out. She came fully into the room and accepted his hand, and his one armed hug. Dad glanced back at me.
"Mrs. Denali's being released today. Her husband and son are picking her up in a few hours. I thought you'd like to know."
I beamed at him. "Thanks, Daddy." I was thrilled to hear that Carmen was better, and I knew she was safe now.
"Well, I'll come back later, since you're full-up here." Dad gave me a kiss on my unmarked cheek, briefly touched Edward's shoulder, and headed out. Carlisle followed silently.
Rose took the unoccupied chair, her heeled boot bouncing as she crossed her knees.
"I'm glad you came," I told her sincerely.
She smiled. "I wanted to check on you, instead of taking Emmett's word."
I watched her push her long blonde hair behind her ear, saw the uneasiness on her face. Watched her eyes flick to Edward and back over my shoulder. I sighed.
"You don't have to tell me what he's saying. I've heard his opinion, and he's gotten an earful in return."
For the first time in our lives, my brother and I were at a true impasse.
"I don't agree with him, and I told him that." Rose's gentle admission gave me some hope, and I loved her even more for it.
I tried to shift my thighs, it felt like I'd been in the same position for years, but I couldn't quite manage. Edward took over, getting up and taking me by the hips, helping me reposition. He moved my pillows around, placing them under all of my pressure points like we'd been taught by the nurses.
"Thank you," I murmured, and he kissed my temple in response before sitting back on the edge of the bed.
"He loves you, anyone can see that," Rose spoke up.
"That's not enough for Emmett. I guess Edward should suffer for my choices." My voice was bitter; I couldn't see Emmett without fighting with him, and he wouldn't even come if Edward was here.
"I suppose he's trying to deal, in his own way. He's been working more, and picking fights with me." She shook her head. "I told him I see through him, and I refuse to play his game. You can imagine how much he liked that."
I snorted. "Not at all."
Edward sighed. "I understand. He's feeling like he's got to blame somebody, and Mike's dead. It's easier to punish me than a corpse."
"I'm still working on him, because I disagree." Rose stood, offering me a small wave. "I'll come visit again soon."
I watched her leave before turning to Edward. "You better not be blaming yourself still." My ire was less impressive due to the coughing fit that followed.
After I'd settled and Edward had put down my water glass for me, he framed my face with his long fingers as gently as he could. "I did. I do, but I try not to. I know it's always been him, but he's a ghost, a shadow that's still following us. It's easier to blame myself, and I'm working on not falling into that trap. Because he can't touch us anymore, and that's what I want to focus on."
My eyes were drifting closed as I answered. "Good, cause I'd hate to kick your gorgeous ass."
I'm so proud of Edward.
No comments:
Post a Comment