A Constant in The Darkness

Chapter Thirty-Five - Love is Touching Souls

Darlings,

It seems I've used up my quota of words for the year because all I can think of now are song lyrics...What a long strange trip it's been...And now we've come, to the end of the road...When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that's amooooorrrreeeeeee!...Thank you for being a friend...

Yeah, i just quoted the Golden Girls theme song.

n7of9 is beta supreme and I can't wait to go to her planet. In my life, I love you more, bb!

Disclaimer: It's not mine

...

EPOV

I thought I saw her again. It happens almost daily, long mahogany hair isn't exactly an oddity here, but I had been seeing her everywhere: in restaurants dining with friends, in the bookstore perusing the aisles, and here in the market. My weekly grocery shopping excursion was frequently marred by the image of Bella. And that name! Fuck, that name was everywhere here and every time I heard it called out, I would turn to look. It was never really her, of course, it's insane to think she would even be here, that it was even a possibility, but I was drawn to the idea nonetheless.

Even now, as I stood behind the young woman, clearly an American, her short hair dark and wavy and soft around her slight shoulders, my heart quickened at the possibility. Logically, I knew it couldn't be her, but just like always, I took comfort in the minute possibility. She just seemed so familiar even in the way she stood, surrounded by strawberries, her very essence seemed so familiar. I felt like a fucking moron giving her the amount of attention I already had but I couldn't help but investigate the situation further. And I really did need to purchase some berries, at least that's how I rationalized my mental stalking of this poor, unknowing tourist.

I made my way through the crowd and stood directly behind the girl. She was just standing there and I took her non-activity to be awe. I understood this awe, my first days here in Rome flooding back to me as I stumbled around the city making a fool of myself and living up to every tourist stereotype. But I had lived here over a month now. My routine was settled, and I was just beginning to feel comfortable using the language and interacting with the locals.

I was standing behind her and leaning forward slightly when I caught the scent of sweet lavender blending with the fragrant fruit. She smelled exactly the same as Bella. This was torture but I wanted to subject myself to it over and over. It might be hell, but I'd take it. I hardly had a chance to compose myself when some random passerby accidentally nudged me forward, my body colliding with hers as she stumbled slightly.

"Permesso," I mumbled out of habit, hoping to blend in with the surrounding chatter. I shouldn't have been standing so close. Now she was going to turn around and I was going to look like some pervy freak. To hide my mortification, I refused to look at her, and instead moved around her to gaze intently at the baskets of strawberries, mentally kicking myself in the ass for even giving in to my pathetic indulgence. I mean, I fucking smelled her! What kind of person does that shit?

I could feel her eyes on me but I just ignored it and pretended I hadn't come over here because she reminded me of someone else, like I hadn't just fucking smelled her as I picked out a basket of berries. She still hadn't moved. She was just standing there staring at me while patrons forced their way around her and shouted various insults directed towards the perplexed woman. I couldn't ignore the commotion any longer. I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible and gave her the slightest glance out of the corner of my eye.

Chocolate. Warm soulful eyes, deep and intense, just like hers.

No, warm soulful eyes that were hers.

I almost dropped the berries I held in my hand, my muscle control failing me in an instant as I struggled to maintain normal bodily functions.

"Bella?" I managed to say. I could see the flutter of emotions behind her eyes. What was she doing here? How many times had I envisioned this moment? I'd dreamed of how I'd hold her to me and tangle my hands in her hair. How many things had I imagined I'd tell her? And now, as her deep eyes peered into mine, the only thing I could think to say came spewing from my mouth before I had a chance to filter my response.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked in disbelief. Her face fell, apprehension clearly taking over her features.

"I need to talk to you," she stumbled over her words as shoppers behind her got more and more adamant with their insults. Before she could say anything else, I dropped my strawberries and grabbed her hand, the skin warm and familiar against mine, and a stir of current radiated up my arm as I pulled her out of the way.

I wanted to cry, I wanted to laugh, I wanted to fucking throw something and smash my fist through a goddamn wall. Fuck, my heart was racing and my whole body ached to hold her but I didn't want to assume too much. I knew I shouldn't. Or maybe I couldn't. I didn't know what to think, what to do, what to say, my entire mind, body and soul were in constant battle over the girl before me.

And I wanted to kiss her. More than I've ever wanted anything in my life.

I dropped her hand and her arms clutched around her tote as her eyes watched the ground. I took the opportunity to look at her. Her delicate face, as beautiful as always, was now framed by twisted layers of dark brown hair. Her cheeks were pink and full as she chewed her lovely lip nervously. Her observing eyes were worn and tired, the color so comforting I wished she would look at me again. God, I just wanted to feel her, inhale every bit of her scent with my nose pressed into the nape of her neck and my arms pulling her to me, but I forced myself to refrain. I still had no idea why she was here. She knew where to find me so she obviously spoke with my family and I wondered if they had told her about all the shit that had happened since she'd left. I assumed they would have and wondered if she was just here to appease her conscience. If that were the case, I didn't want to come off as some clingy pathetic asshole who couldn't get over a girl.

But that's exactly what you are, I thought to myself.

"You came all the way to Italy to talk?" I asked in disbelief. I couldn't believe she was here, actually here in Rome.

"Yeah, I guess I did," Bella said, her eyes still on the ground. "Is there some place we can go? I mean, obviously you're busy, but do you have some time later, or something?"

I almost chuckled. I had all the fucking time in the world. I had thought I could just get a job here, start at the bottom level as an assistant or a fucking dishwasher even, all the while observing, working, learning the ins and outs of the restaurant business. I went into dozens of cafes, restaurants and hotels, practically begging for a job, but I didn't have a visa and apparently, getting a job as a foreigner in Italy is extremely rare, like nonexistent rare. Most apartments for rent here are used as vacation homes and to declare permanent residency, you need a visa. Luckily, I was able to find a place that would rent to me by the month instead of weekly. I could stay in Italy for ninety days before I needed a visa, and the easiest way to get a visa would be to apply for one as a student. Which meant I had to enroll in some kind of school. I tried the culinary academy but the courses offered here in Italy were supposed to come after the ones in New York, so I was left with having to forge an entirely new plan.

I applied for a culinary internship for the winter semester which started in January and ran through March. It's unpaid, so basically I'd be doing grunt work for free, but they would place me in a restaurant in Rome or Florence, and sometimes the interns get hired when the internship is over. If I could make a good impression I could maybe get a job out of all this. So right now, I didn't really have shit to do. I was living off of my small inheritance and Bella's educate Edward fund, and cooking often, trying out different recipes, perfecting my techniques and just trying to acquaint myself with my new existence.

"I was just picking up a couple of things for dinner. You can join me, if you want," I offered. "We can talk at my apartment, it's not far from here."

"I know, I followed you," she said absentmindedly. My eyes shot up to hers as she stared at me, her eyes wide as a pink tint spread over her cheeks and the back of her neck, and my heart stuttered at the sight of her blush.

"You followed me?" I asked her, smirking a little in spite of myself. Fuck, it was so hard to appear nonchalant. I was dying to find out why she was here, why she would travel half the planet just to talk when we could have easily done that over the phone. My only guess was that she had something to say that could only be said in person, and this was either very good or very, very bad.

"Yeah…um…" She tugged at her ear and chewed her lip as she tried to explain. "Alice, she's here too, she saw you leaving your apartment from the taxi and I…I followed you."

"Alice is here? In Italy?" I asked incredulously. Fuck, could this day get any more bizarre?

"Yeah, she's at a hotel," Bella responded. My hands were shaking as I tried to control my emotions. I stopped to grab a bundle of basil in an attempt to mask my nervousness, bringing the fresh herb to my nose and inhaling deeply, letting the sweet fragrance invade my nostrils. Everything smelled so much more potent here. The tomatoes were sweeter, the bell peppers crisper, everything was just fresh and pure, the way food was supposed to be.

Bella smiled sadly beside me, her forehead creased as she watched me inhale the flawless leaf, and I let her eyes hold mine for a long time. I still couldn't believe she was here, that this was real, but I let myself drink her in, wading in the depth her liquid eyes offered before I broke our connection to pay the vendor.

"What hotel are you staying at?" I asked her as we continued to walk, trying to make normal conversation. The booths started to thin as we made our way to the end of the alleyway. I stopped at one of the flower booths on the outskirts and grabbed a bouquet of sunflowers surrounded by tiny blooms with petals like little purple stars, and paired with indigo stalks and dark orange seeds of some sort. I didn't have any real need for the flowers, they were just nice, the large and bowing sunflowers contrasted with the tall thin stalks. And I just felt like buying them. I needed them, for the apartment.

For the apartment. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, you pathetic lovesick fool.

"Um, we didn't have time to make reservations or anything so Alice is going to try to get a room at the Marriott," Bella murmured. So they had left Forks in a hurry. Yep, this was either going to be very good or very bad.

"The Marriott. That's close, like a block north from where I live," I observed, gently placing the flowers in my bag and paying the vendor.

"Yeah, I know. We kind of planned it that way," she said. I couldn't believe we were talking about such frivolous shit. I wanted to know everything right now, but I had to stop getting ahead of myself. Just focus on the present, Edward, fuck. Right now, what's happening right now?

Right now, the most beautiful girl I've ever seen was blushing vehemently in front of me, her eyes cast down and her lips pulled into a tiny smirk. And I wanted her. Right now.

I sighed and her smile faded, her fingers resuming their twisting, playing with her hair, pulling at her ear and all at once I realized: she was nervous.

Of course she was nervous, she came here to talk to me about something really important and the last time I heard bad news I acted like a goddamn fool. I kinda wanted to punch myself in the face over that, but it was the truth. I was notorious for overreacting. No wonder she was nervous.

We walked a while in silence and I stopped to pick up a few more things I used frequently in my cooking and was running low on, like garlic, almonds and oats. I had planned to make Chicken Piccata tonight but now that Bella had shown up I'd opt for a vegetarian dish.

I wondered if she was eating. She didn't look as skinny as she did when she had left Forks. Her face looked fuller but that could have been because of her new haircut. She was bundled in a large sweatshirt and jeans so I couldn't really tell by looking at her if her eating habits had changed. There were good indicators, though. First and foremost, she was still alive, so that had to count for something. I honestly had my doubts, torturing myself with thoughts of her passing out somewhere and nobody there to help her. But I shook those thoughts from my head. She was here. She was right here beside me and she looked…good. Her eyes seemed brighter, still wide but less consuming of her face and no longer rimmed with black circles. These had to be good signs, right? And she was here. This had to be the most positive sign of all.

She licked at her lips as if she were about to say something, and I watched her tongue trail across the pink fullness of her mouth. God, all I wanted to do was kiss her, it was all I could focus on, how she was over there and I was over here and we should be connected in some fashion, hands, lips, arms, it didn't fucking matter.

I tried to relax. My shoulders felt tight and my heart was tap dancing against my ribs. I knew I ought to be upset. I mean, I know why she did what she thought she had to do. I know why she sent the money. She always wanted care from her father and the last thing he left her with was cash so she could be cared for, and she sent that cash to us. It was her way of showing us she cared. Even when she was trying to give me my freedom, as she put it, she still wanted me to know she cared. I get that now.

What I didn't get is why she was in Italy. I was having a hard time making sense of the situation and I guess that's why she wanted to speak with me. To make sense of this immensely fucked up situation.

And all I wanted to do was hold her hand.

We walked in silence back to my apartment, the large stone building located on the outside of the piazza. I unlocked the main door and held it open as she walked into the small foyer. My apartment on the fourth floor really wasn't much. One bedroom that wasn't even a full bedroom, separated from the living area by a raised platform and a tiny bathroom with a pedestal sink, a toilet and shower. The living room housed a couch and a coffee table and television, and the disturbingly small kitchen had an old gas stove that was honestly the best range I'd ever cooked on. The best thing about this apartment, by far, was the terrace off the living room. The tiled balcony housed many potted plants and I had immediately bought a couple of long rectangular planters so I could plant my own herbs. In the center of the terrace was a square table and four chairs and I had made this my dining room.

Best fucking dining room ever.

I made my way to the staircase as Bella followed behind me, my groceries heavy on my arm.

"No elevator?" Bella asked, and I shook my head no. "What floor are you on?"

"Fourth," I said quietly as I led her to the stairs. I allowed her to go first and she began the march up to the fourth floor. I had to stop myself from watching her climb the stairs, remembering how her long braid used to swish across her backside when she walked. There wasn't a braid there any longer, just a small span of sweatshirt, but fuck how I wanted to touch her. The recollections were vibrant in my brain: my hands on her hips, gliding over her stomach and across that lovely behind. I knew every inch of the body before me, every freckle, every curve, every bend, and yet here I was strangling the urge to indulge. "I like your hair," I blurted out like a fool when we reached my door, and we just stared at one another.

I had to touch her, the need for the connection smothering my self control, so I gently slid past her and let my hand rest on the small of her back and my chest graze against her arm. The contact only lasted an instant but as soon as I touched her I felt her body sigh. I felt her spine sink into my hand and it took every ounce of strength I had to allow my hand to drop.

I needed more. Like a fucking junkie falling off the wagon, my mind started looking for reasons to touch her, looking for my next fix, and I shook my head and tried to abate the compulsion. I didn't want to cross any lines or assume too much.

I turned the key in the lock and opened the door for Bella. Once inside, she plopped her tote on the kitchen counter, the space instantly more complete with this addition, like her bag should be there every single day. She inspected the space as I hung up my jacket and put away my groceries, placing the bouquet of flowers in a clear glass pitcher. Lingering at the terrace door, she peered out the windowed doors and I smiled to myself. I knew she would love the terrace. Every morning as I sat out there sipping my espresso and smoking a cigarette, I thought of Bella and how she would love this terrace.

"May I?" she asked, motioning to the doors.

"Sure. Um, that left door sticks a little…" I trailed off as she yanked the door open, with impressive force, I might add, and walked out onto the balcony. She wrapped her arms around herself as she peered out over the edge, the square below a flurry of activity with honking cars and zipping scooters and peeling voices drifting upward.

"Wow, this is so amazing," Bella gasped as she looked out across the street at the piazza.

"It's pretty remarkable. You should see the view in the morning, at sunrise, the whole piazza looks like it's on fire," I responded from the door frame. Bella looked shyly over her shoulder, the pink blush creeping up her neck and it dawned on me that my comment sounded more like an invitation than an observation. I just wanted to tell her everything I could about this place, about living here, and the plan I'd concocted for staying here. But it wasn't my turn to talk. No, Bella was the one that had something to say.

"I bet it's something spectacular," Bella said, a sad smile on her lips as her eyes held mine, her dark twist of hair masking the intensity of her gaze. I wanted to go to her, push the hair from her face and let my hand linger on her cheek. She'd close her eyes and rest her face against my palm, and I'd kiss her, press my lips to hers and welcome in her heavenly flavor, relishing the sweet taste on my lips.

I turned my back to her instead and walked into the kitchen and pulled the coffee maker from the cabinet. I had taken to drinking coffee here, the aromas too potent to ignore, and now I was a slave to the caffeine. Coffee in Italy means espresso and is made with a special kettle using espresso grounds purchased at the market. It was strong as all hell but I could hardly function now without it.

Bella followed me into the kitchen and leaned on the counter. "You drink coffee now?" she asked, and I nodded, unsure as how to explain. Not that it really needed explaining, but the comment intensified the reality that there was a huge distance between us, one that wasn't entirely physical.

Bella nodded back and I spooned the grounds into the filter and filled the bottom of the kettle with water. I placed the filter into the kettle and screwed the pot onto the top. Putting the kettle on the stove, I lit the burner and let the espresso fill the carafe. I poured the coffee into two ceramic cups, adding only a bit of cream from the fridge.

"I love that smell," Bella noted, a bit absentmindedly.

"Here, I made it for you," I offered her one of the cups but she shook her head no, her fingers tracing the patterns on the tile countertop. "Can I get you something else? Water or something?"

"Yeah, water would be good," she muttered. "Actually, I should probably eat something. I couldn't really eat on the plane."

I have to admit, it was hard for me to hide my surprise as these words tumbled out of her mouth. I paused mid sip for at least a full minute, a full minute of awkward, horrendous silence in which my complete shock was fully disclosed. And I felt like a complete asshole for it too. I mean, here she was obviously making some strides and all I could do was make her feel self conscious about it.

"Do you want to go out for something to eat?" I offered. I just couldn't get over this, was Bella Swan asking me for food? Did she actually want to eat? "I was going to make a Chicken Piccata for dinner, but we can go out if you want. You know, to talk." I quickly added that last part as an attempt to salvage my pride, but really, who was I kidding? This girl could ask me to go hunt down a mountain lion and barbeque it up for her and I'd gladly oblige.

"Can we make marinara? I've been craving your marinara," Bella said, suppressing a smile. She was being cheeky, damnit, and it was fucking cute. A fluttering of hope tingled in my chest and I had to snuff it away, cage it off, because we were still walking around on those goddamn fucking awkward as all hell eggshells. And taking into account Bella had just said she's been craving my marinara, I quite literally was at a loss of what to expect next out of her mouth.

"Um, okay. Marinara it is," I responded, finishing my coffee as Bella moved to the fridge and began to lay the ingredients upon the counter. I watched her for a moment, a little taken aback as she took it upon herself to search the cabinets for a pan. She stood at the sink filling the pan up with water when her eyes finally met mine and I realized I'd been staring. I couldn't help it. I was just amazed, charmed really, at her eagerness.

"I know," she said, reading my thoughts, it seemed, and I felt my heart swell and break simultaneously, a great tidal force in my chest. She was different and I hadn't been there to witness her change at all. It had nothing to do with me, in fact one could argue that it was in spite of me. In spite of all the ways I had tried to help her, it appeared, she was only able to do it by herself. I had to admit, this made me feel slightly less than worthless.

This worthlessness, of course, was immediately overshadowed by the extreme pride I felt in knowing Bella had finally realized the strength she possessed. I mean, I didn't want to jump to conclusions as my confidence in what I thought I knew was completely obliterated. But I was starting to think this is what Bella was trying to show me.

She had placed two pots on the stove to boil, one for the tomatoes which she had placed in it, and one for the pasta. She tried to set the burners ablaze but the left one had trouble starting, the click, click, click of the igniter failing to light. I reached around her, not quite close enough to touch but my body warming in her radiance nonetheless, and without really knowing what I was doing, I inhaled her lavender scent. She quickly turned her head and suddenly her face was inches from mine. Her lips mere centimeters from mine, that damn twist of hair interrupting her ardent eyes burning into mine and my fingers twitched as I repressed the urge to push the hair from her face. I noticed her lashes flutter, heard her inhale, an almost noiseless gasp from her pout. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted it so fucking bad, but I just didn't know what the fuck to do. So I dropped her gaze and occupied my fingers by picking up a book of matches from the countertop instead. She slunk out of the way, her hands running through her hair before she unzipped her sweatshirt. Fuck, now she was shedding clothing. I turned back to my task and struck a match against the box, bringing the flame to the gas, and the burner immediately blazed blue before I tossed the match into the sink.

I looked up to find Bella folding her sweatshirt on my couch and my eyes hungrily scanned every inch of her more exposed frame. She was wearing a white long sleeved shirt, the material thin and transparent and revealing one of her black tank tops underneath. She was still thin, but the image I had burned in my brain of her before she left had been distorted, her features intensified in my memory, and I couldn't remember exactly what she looked like before she left. Not that it mattered, as long as her body was healing, as long as she was healthy and happy, I didn't care what she looked like. She always just looked like Bella to me.

But she was different now. Her posture, her demeanor, her entire aura glowed with a whole new vibrancy. I almost didn't recognize it, and it bothered me. I hadn't been there for the shift and I found myself wondering if I still knew her, if that made any sense at all.

"You look different," I said quietly, unable to hold it in any longer. I had to know what was going on in her mind, why she had flown thousands of miles to talk to me.

"It's the hair," she said as she walked over to check the tomatoes which were boiling fervently down. They were probably done so I moved to turn off the burner but found Bella had beaten me to it. She pulled the pan off the stove and set it in the sink, running the cold water over the tomatoes. Huh? I didn't really know what to think of this. That was my job, and here she was basically taking over my kitchen. But the most shocking part of it all was that even after all this time, cooking with Bella felt natural. I mean, shit, this whole thing was pretty much freaking me the fuck out, but it was natural. What was unnatural was the way we kept dancing around the issues, making awkward small talk and ignoring the huge monkey in the room. Or is it an elephant? I don't know, whatever the fucking pretend everything's fine jungle animal is, that's the one we were ignoring.

Bella stood at the sink and I could feel her there, her very presence pulsing next to me as we worked together in the small space. Her hands were nimble and swift as she removed the skin from the tomatoes, a small knife in her hand removing any of the blemishes that happened to remain. It was starting to get dark in the apartment, the natural light streaming in from the terrace having retired for the evening. I moved to flick on the light switch, flooding the room with white fluorescence. I ran a heavy blade through a small onion, the overwhelming fragrance burning my eyes, and I tossed it into a frying pan with a splash of oil. I set the pan where the tomatoes had been, reigniting the flame and letting it sauté. I reduced the heat and added some minced garlic before helping Bella pull the skin off the rest of the tomatoes.

"Your hair looks really pretty," I said, my voice almost a whisper before taking the soft fruit in my hand and gently peeling away the skin. "But that's not it."

"You didn't get them…" she trailed off. I heard her mutter something under her breath but my cell phone was ringing from the pocket of my jacket. I reached for a dish towel, my hands a mess of tomato juice and pulp and seeds, before hurrying to pull the phone from my coat.

"Alice," I said looking at the display. She probably wanted to know if I found Bella, or rather if Bella found me and if we were okay.

"Hi, yes, she's here," I said, answering the phone.

"Oh. Okay. Um…tell her we have a room at the Marriott," Alice said.

"Sure," I responded, the thought of letting Bella out of my sight again literally sickening. But I really didn't have any say, this wasn't my choice. I looked over at her, still peeling tomatoes at the sink, her brow creased, her eyes far away as she pulled the skin from the flesh absentmindedly. What was going on in that head of hers?

"And I love you, both of you," she said knowingly. She was trying to let me know she had forgiven Bella, like that was supposed to make this easier or something. It has never been a question of forgiveness. I understood all her reasons for leaving. I was just sad she hadn't included me in the decision.

"Love you too." I hung up the phone and set it on the countertop.

"She just wanted to know if you were here and to tell you she's at the Marriott," I said quietly to Bella who was now squishing the tomatoes through her fingers into the frying pan holding the sautéed onions and softened garlic.

I followed her lead, tearing half a dozen basil leaves into the pulpy tomatoes now sizzling in the pan, the aromas wafting around us as Bella searched the drawers for a wooden spoon. I quickly found the coveted spoon and handed it to her, a smile spreading across her lips as she mixed the ingredients in the pan. She poured a bit of salt into her hand and added it to the sauce before grinding some pepper over the top as well. She looked around searching for something before I realized what she thought was missing.

"You don't need to add sugar with these tomatoes. They're fresh and naturally very sweet," I advised and her eyes looked at me, inquisitively.

"Really?" she asked, abandoning her search. She dipped the wooden spoon into the tomatoes, and brought it to her lips. I stared enviously as her tongue gently licking at her lips as she pondered this idea. She didn't even hesitate, the action natural and normal. This shouldn't have been so strange to see, but for Bella, eating always seemed to be a struggle, the effort constant in her demeanor.

"Oh my God, those are the best tomatoes I've ever tasted in my life. They're like huge mutant grapes or something," Bella said incredulously.

"Well, tomatoes are technically a fruit, you know," I said to her. "And they're chocked full of antioxidants."

"Yeah, I know. I, um…I took a nutrition class while I was in Florida," she said quietly as she stirred the sauce again.

"You took a class?" I asked, my heart stuttering at the mention of that place. I had this detest for Florida now, like it was the state's fault Bella had chosen to leave me and hide out there.

But it's not like she was really hiding, was it? I knew where she was. She hadn't tried to mask the fact that she was there and I could have gone to her. What was my excuse? Why hadn't I tried harder, why hadn't I chased her? I could have fought for her but I didn't. I guess I had been preoccupied with the trial, serving time for my mistakes and having epiphanies and shit. But I could have followed her.

After all, she had followed me, all the way to Italy.

"Yeah, at the community college in Jacksonville," she replied as she looked up at me and set the spoon on the counter.

"With your mom?" I asked. I was pretty sure that was where her mom worked.

"No. I haven't spoken to her in months. I kinda disowned her," Bella said, her hands twisting together as she spoke.

"You disowned her? Then why were you in Florida for five months?" I asked confused. Why would she stay there if she wasn't even speaking to her mother?

"You didn't read them at all? Any of them?" she asked desperately. I probably shouldn't admit I carried around with me the letter and the short note she sent with the check. Fuck, I had read them so many times, I could recite them by memory.

"Of course I read them. How do you think I knew you were in Jacksonville? Fuck, Bella that was all I had, that fucking letter, the note you sent with the money. And I get it, okay? I understand why you left, what you were trying to do. But it was just such a breach of confidence, you know? Like you thought I couldn't handle this shit, like you didn't trust me to do what was good for myself, what was good for us." It just came pouring from my lips, all the thoughts I'd been harboring inside, the outlet I had needed so badly back in Forks. I needed her. I needed to talk to her, just fucking talk to her about this so I could work it out in my head, and she didn't even give me the chance.

Great tears rolled down her cheeks now, but she didn't wipe them away. She hardly flinched, she just stood there with agony in her eyes as the sauce began to burn on the stove, big hot bubbles splattering onto the range. I quickly turned down the heat, frantically stirring the marinara and trying to salvage the dried tomato by adding a bit of water to dislodge anything stuck to the bottom of the pan. I gave the sauce a quick stir and a big hot bubble splashed on my left arm, the hot liquid searing into my skin.

"Fuck!" I shouted and quickly grabbed a towel to wipe the scalding hot sauce from my arm. Bella's hands gently cradled my arm, her touch so familiar, so comforting, yet so unexpected that I almost didn't feel the sting of my now blistered skin.

"Here, let me see," she said softly, leading me to the sink and running my arm under the cold water. The sting was palpable, the pain searing as the water washed over the blister, and then slight relief as Bella tenderly held my arm. I fucking knew how to take care of a blister and yet, here I was, letting her tend to my ailment, desperate just to feel her touching me, to have her close, displaying acts of care and compassion toward me. I didn't want her to stop. I didn't want her to let me go. I just wanted to live in this moment, scalding blister and all, because I was the most fulfilled I'd been in the last five months.

Bella turned off the tap and carefully used the dish towel to pat the wound dry. Her fingers grazed my skin as she ran them over the scar along my wrist and hand, and as her tears dotted my arm and I felt a clench in my chest as well. She brought my wrist to her lips and kissed the marred skin, a long careful press, before letting my hand drop and moving to dump the dry pasta into the now boiling pot of water on the stove. I resumed my task as well, giving the sauce a slight stir and pulling some produce from the fridge for a salad.

Bella stirred the boiling water with her back facing mine as we finished preparing the meal in silence. I didn't know what to do, especially now, especially after she had kissed my wrist and let her tears fall onto my skin. All I knew was that I wanted to know everything now. Every tiny detail about her time in Florida, I wanted it all.

When we sat down on the terrace to eat, I was fully prepared to question the living shit out of her, but I soon found out I didn't need to. I lit the lanterns surrounding the table, casting a soft glow in the outside space, a deep contrast to the harshness of the fluorescent lighting.

I took a small bite of my pasta. I wasn't even really hungry, my stomach quite unable to process food in this moment. No, it seemed my entire body was focused on what Bella was going to say, anticipating if she was actually going to eat. The sauce was slightly bitter, a tangy aftertaste of burnt tomato, and I frowned. It wasn't bad, I mean, it was still edible, but it wasn't the marinara I knew Bella had been craving.

Bella pushed the pasta around her plate, taking small bites as I watched her. I couldn't help myself. It was a habit, not only because I liked to gauge reactions to my dishes, but because I knew what a struggle it was for her to provide her body with nourishment. She really must have been hungry though, because she ate quickly, leaving a small amount of pasta on her plate before taking a few bites of her salad.

"I went to Florida to die, Edward," she said quietly as she set her fork down. "I knew if I tried to explain, if I tried to tell you I was going to Florida so it wouldn't hurt you as much when my body expired, you wouldn't let me go. I could see what I was doing to you, and the person I was when I left Forks, that person didn't see any other choice. I couldn't keep hurting you. I couldn't stand myself. Oh God, I'm so sorry for how I've hurt you." Bella wiped at the tears streaking her cheeks.

I had never guessed that she really thought she was going to die, not until I got the money, and at first I was furious with her choice to leave, to choose to go away and die and deny me even the opportunity to love her through that. Then, my anger fizzled as I thought of the misery she must have been living in, the sense of utter hopelessness it must have taken her to walk out that door, and I wanted to move across the distance between us, the square table seeming far too wide.

But she kept talking and I listened, starved for information and grateful she was choosing to share it with me now.

"I went to Renee's because I wanted her to see what she had done. I wanted to hurt her, destroy her like she had destroyed everyone else, but I was completely useless. I once used the hunger as a distraction for the pain I had in my soul, but it just didn't work anymore. I got nothing out of starving myself except hunger pains and irritation. One day as she was cooking I just snapped. I was going to tell her I knew everything, I was going to tell her about the pills and the miscarriage and just how destroyed my body is, when I realized she wasn't worth it. But that I was. So I walked out on her forever.

"I was staying at this hotel, just me and my brain and a pack of cigarettes, and I tried to make sense of what was happening, of how things were so different from when I had started this cycle of self hatred and how I didn't know how to deal with it. I didn't know how to handle all the good that was happening in my life. Does that make sense?" Bella asked me, but I was a little confused by what she meant. I mean, I get the whole pattern of behavior cycle, I had just stepped off that carousal myself. She must have seen the confusion on my face because she continued to try to explain.

"It's like…it's like Pluto," she said, trying to find a way to relate it to me, I guess, and I smirked that she chose to use this analogy. "I mean, we grew up thinking Pluto was a planet, right? And physically, it's not like the other planets but we think it is, because that's what we've always been told. And then you accidentally bump into the most remarkable human being, and he tells you it's not. He presents evidence, shows you pictures and graphs and shit and you try to understand, but it's just too unfathomable. I mean, now the whole mnemonic device thing you were taught in fifth grade doesn't even work anymore, it totally throws off your whole foam replicated solar system, and scientifically, yeah, Pluto isn't a planet, but you never really let go of the idea because it's just easier to believe as you always have." I understood this. Belief is a tricky bastard. Once you believe something, truly believe it, it's damn near impossible to accept anything else.

"I don't know," she continued, "maybe it's not the same at all. But I just, I've just never felt worth it. And then, all of a sudden I was, and it was just hard to believe, hard to accept that someone would accept me with all my flaws. But you did. What I didn't realize, until after I had already left, is that I had to accept me too.

"I wrote you emails, lots of them. When I figured this out, I wanted to share it with you. I just wanted to talk to you about all the things that were buzzing through my mind. When you didn't respond I thought you had moved on or that you despised me for leaving, and I vowed to tell you the truth." She wrote me? I hadn't checked my email in, fuck, over a year. I don't even know if I still knew the password. I was shocked at hearing this, that I could have been there, if not physically sharing the experience with her, at least hearing about it, at least I could have been able to offer her some kind of kinship from across the country. I was about to tell her this but she continued to talk.

"But I didn't want to come back until I was a whole person, you know? I needed to know I'd be able to do this whole eating thing permanently, that it wasn't just a temporary fix. So I started cooking your recipes, trying to recreate the dishes I'd watched you prepare. I made marinara because it reminds me of my father and I was missing him. I made it perfectly, Edward. And I was eating and I was content. I knew in that moment that I could do this. I can be healthy. I can be strong. I can deal with any fucked up shit karma throws at me, but I don't want this life without you." Bella's hands were pressed into the table as her words resonated in my chest.

"I don't know what's going to happen in the future, Edward, but I do know that it is a true testament to the character of a person in how they choose to handle what has been dealt to them. I was dealt a shitty hand and I've made poor choices, but those choices have led me here, back to you. It always comes back to you," Bella paused, her fingers pressed together, her previously downcast eyes suddenly boring into mine, every inch of her face and posture saturated with resolve.

"I just came here to tell you that I love you. I had to make sure you knew this. I mean, you're my match," she said with a slight smile, her eyes glistening. "My love for you was never a question, ever. I want…I want to be the binary stars, you know the healthy ones that are held together by gravity, spinning together through the darkness while the universe tries to rip them apart. I'm not afraid of the universe anymore, but I just don't want to face it without you. Loving you makes my life better, makes me better. And I don't care how many lifetimes it takes, I won't be content until you understand how much you mean to me. It might take forever. So I guess that's all I'm asking for. Forever." Bella's lips pulled into a slight grin, realizing the contradiction in her statement.

"Forever, huh? That's an awfully tall order," I responded, unable to resist the joke. My heart thumped wildly against my ribs and I cursed this fucking table between us. Oh God, I just wanted to pull her against my body and give myself to her forever. It's not like she didn't already have me.

"I know. But I'll prove it to you, whatever it takes, Edward. I'll wait until you're ready. I understand you're here now and you're going to focus on your career and I realize this is seriously fucked up timing. But I'll wait, if you'll let me, if you want me to. I'll wait even if you don't want me to." Bella's liquid eyes seemed to swirl in the low light as she gazed at me earnestly, and I waited for her to continue but she just sat in silence, staring into me, pulling me in as I leaned further into the table, our connection humming into the dark starry night muted by the bustle of activity from the street below.

"I'd like to read the emails. Fuck, I haven't checked my email in months. I don't even have internet access here. I have to go to one of those internet cafes if I want to look stuff up. But I'd really like to be a part of your healing, even if it's already over. That was the thing that hurt the most, that it seemed that you had cut me out of your life. I just want to be a part of you, a part of your healing, a part of your pain even, and a part of your successes and failures. I just want to be there," I said as her face trembled, the tears again spilling onto her cheeks.

"I'm not healed, not all the way. I don't know if I will ever be healed, Edward. My body is still a mess. But my head's in the right place, I think. And my heart is close, so very close to being home." She folded her arms around herself and I understood what she meant. Home. A place that hadn't always been available to me, a place I had found with Bella. When she left, I drifted like a boat cut loose from the buoy, but I always knew where I belonged. And it was anywhere she chose to lay her head.

"I'd like that. To feel home again. I'd really like that," I managed to mumble as Bella nodded and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

We talked for hours on the terrace. I told her about all the shit I did while she was in Florida, how I cried when I heard that Joni Mitchell song, how I had to get a fake tooth, and how Rosalie had let me babysit Charlie. I mentioned all the interesting things I'd been learning in Italy. I told her how I couldn't get a job and had to apply for school, and she was really excited for me about the prospect of employment through the internship. She had so much confidence in my cooking, it was hard not to be optimistic with her. She told me about the emails and her job at the market stocking shelves, and I almost shit at the thought of her walking home from the late shift in the dark to an empty apartment. We talked about her class and how she loved college and was looking forward to taking more classes.

And then it hit me.

Bella was going to go back to Forks. Or Jacksonville. She had an apartment there and a job. She was going to leave me again. Shit, she was going to leave me tonight. Fuck, I just wanted her to stay the night, but I didn't know how that was going to work. I mean, things were different now and we loved each other, that was undeniable, but I wouldn't be the one to rush her into anything she wasn't ready for. I was just getting to love this new Bella. I didn't know how this would change our physical relationship. The attraction was still there, that fucking magnetic hum between us still radiating even in our distance, but I would resist if that meant a stronger, healthier relationship for us.

It was with this thought that I offered to walk Bella to the hotel. It was late, just before midnight, but the streets of Rome were still bustling with activity. I helped her back into her sweatshirt and she zipped it up as we walked through the softly lit piazza and past the large clock tower that rarely chimed. Couples and groups of friends congregated around the fountain, laughing and speaking in expressive Italian, the language now sounding natural to my ears. It was a little cool out and I was glad I had grabbed my jacket as I stuffed my hands into the pockets. Bella walked quietly beside me, her tote slung over her shoulder, taking in her surroundings as a light breeze ruffled the dark layers twisted around her face. God, she really was a beautiful creature and I wanted to touch the porcelain skin of her cheek, the flesh tinted pink from the chill, and I practically had to clutch the insides of my pockets to make my hands behave themselves.

Bella looked over at me, her wide eyes shimmering as she smiled, a tender glow about her grin, and at once I had to know what she was thinking.

"What?" I asked her.

"I can't believe you moved to Italy. This might sound completely corny, but, I'm just…I'm really proud of you for coming here. For not giving up on yourself," she said, her fingers brushing through her hair and forcing it behind her ear.

It did sound corny but I didn't give a fuck because I was kinda proud of me too. It reminded me of my conversation with Carlisle and I couldn't help the smile now spreading across my lips, knowing I had at least this small step to stand upon.

"I never gave up on you, you know," I said to her, her eyes surveying my face as her features darkened.

"Well, that makes one of us," she muttered.

"That's okay. You're allowed to give up once in a while. We just can't both give up on the same day," I told her, letting my arm gently graze against hers, her lavender scent blooming around me. "As long as one of us is willing to fight, we'll be fine, right? I mean, if we could survive all this shit, even a continent apart, we can survive anything together."

Bella closed her eyes and nodded, one tear forming in the crease of her eye, and I used my thumb to wipe the tear from her face, my hand grazing over her cheek as her teary eyes met mine. I let my hand fall into hers and her fingers entwined with mine. She gripped my hand, tight and secure, and I let the tingle spread up my arm, the current warming through my shoulder and up my neck and through my spine, the swelling in my chest bursting against my ribs as my breathing stuttered. It was there, the connection, the comfort, the universe realigned in our elemental bond.

We walked the rest of the way in silence, letting our connection say what we could not put into words, and before I knew it I was walking her through the glass doors of the hotel. She walked to the front desk to pick up her key to the room and I was dreading this moment. I was going to have to let her go, leave her here in a hotel room when all I wanted was to bring her to my bed and curl around her. But we would have that soon enough.

Besides, I couldn't have Bella loving some possessive creep.

Bella turned towards me as we waited for the elevator. It would be best to say good night now and keep my distance from that room. I would be tempted to follow her inside and I knew that I couldn't, not yet.

"I'd like to see you tomorrow, if that's okay," Bella said, her hand still clutching mine.

"I'll bring you breakfast," I responded. It was only a few hours away, after all, I could make it through the night.

"I'll look forward to it," she said with a smile, and I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that she could actually look forward to a meal.

The bell chimed and the elevator doors opened. I wanted to kiss her, place my lips on hers and hold on for dear life, but before I could make the decision she had dropped my hand and stepped into the elevator, the opportunity missed.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Edward," she said as the doors closed before I could properly respond, and I frantically punched the buttons on the wall, trying to force the doors open again.

"Shit!" I cursed out loud and I stifled the urge to punch the steel door. Instead, I spun around, shoving my hands in my pockets, and left the building.

I stepped onto the street and quickly lit a cigarette, the smoke fuming around my face as I inhaled a quick drag, trying to silence my still pounding nerves. What a fucking night, man. I turned to leave, flicking the ash from the cigarette and trying to tell myself to relax. I needed to read those emails. I quickly made my way to an internet café downtown that I knew would be open and was only a ten minute walk from the hotel.

Finally at the terminal, a handful of tourists using the other computers mainly to chat with family in other time zones, I logged into my email. I tried three passwords and luckily, on the third try, I was able to access my inbox. One hundred and seven emails, each one of them with the simple subject "Hey."

I scrolled to the bottom of the page, clicked on the first message, and I began to read.

I read all night. I ordered coffee from the bar and sat at the terminal all fucking night. I just kept clicking on those emails, greedily soaking up her words, and I could almost hear the emotion in her voice as I read. The first messages spoke of her argument with her mother and I could see her confusion in the text, the sentences continuing forever as she poured out all her frustration onto the page, the bold capital letters interspersed with mostly lowercase text. She had been angry, her fingers flying across the keys as she released all her insecurities and self loathing. And she had sent it all to me, so I could share this with her, so I could hear her realizations as they were happening. She wanted me to know, she wanted me to understand.

I chuckled to myself when she described her cooking disasters and how she couldn't get the recipes quite right, knowing full well the disappointment and irritations of a recipe gone awry. The way she was writing about food and cooking shocked the hell out of me, and I sat there, incredulous, as she documented restoring her relationship with food. She spoke of how she went to a restaurant but couldn't eat because she was distracted by all the happy couples dining cozily at the booths around her. I giggled at her cynical recounting of the event, how she almost wished they would get food poisoning and spend the rest of the evening on the toilet, but then rescinded the spiteful wish, knowing full well the wrath of karma. She was completely honest sharing her fears, her gripes, her pleasures, and her pains, with no sugarcoating, just gritty, raw emotions, complete with typos and misspelled words.

I sobbed like a fucking infant when she described our time together, how I'd made her feel alive and awake, how I incited feelings in her she hadn't ever thought possible. She wrote about my family and how she already regarded them as hers, how she'd learned of what a family should be through knowing them. And then she described me and my heart pulsed in my chest, how she felt watching me cook, how she felt listening to me speak, how my hands felt on her body, and in that moment I craved to touch her more than I could ever remember. Every intimate detail in her mind, the insignificant and the monumental, she shared with me. There was no room left for interpretation, no misunderstandings to be had, just everything laid out on the page.

She had given herself completely to me, and allowed me to read her thoughts, granting me access to the complexities of this most remarkable person. I knew she had suffered much loss and pain in her young lifetime, and I knew she had been living behind this shield she had erected to protect her soul from further injury. And yet, she summoned the strength to stand before me completely exposed and offer every part of herself to me. The magnitude of this was overwhelming, and I struggled to wrap my head around the enormity of what Bella had done. But no matter how I tried to make sense of it all, one thought pounded in my mind, soared in my heart and raced through my veins.

Go to her. Now. And give her forever.

I was out the door in a flash, my shoes pounding against the pavement. I had to see her now, to tell her how much I love her and how I never want to wake up without her again, how I want to see her clothes on my floor and her tote on my countertop forever. God, I just couldn't believe what it took to get to this point. Even a world apart, the two of us were still cosmically bound in our journey to self realization, our two paths running side by side, and now they shall converge as one.

I slowed my pace to a walk and reached into my pocket for my keys, struggling slightly to unthread my mother's ring from the key ring, Bella's ring, the delicate loop of gold interrupted by a single stone. I slipped it onto my pinky. Bella didn't need me to protect her, she didn't need me to save her, she just needed me to be there. And I intended to be there every day for the rest of my life.

I couldn't stop the smile from spreading across my lips. I wanted to laugh, I wanted to cry, I wanted to tell everyone I passed on the early morning street that I loved Bella and she had followed me all the way to Italy to tell me that she loved me too. I just couldn't wait to see her face, to wrap her in my arms and press my lips to hers, accepting everything she had disclosed in her emails, her revelations, her insecurities, her apologies, and fully realizing the magnitude of her presence here.

I quickly dialed Alice's number, the phone ringing and ringing on the other end. The digital numbers on the screen said it was just before five in the morning, but I called again, letting the phone ring and ring and ring.

Fuck! Why wasn't she answering the phone? I reached the hotel and dialed the number again as I paced outside on the sidewalk. Again, it rang without answer. I walked into the hotel lobby and asked the clerk at the desk for the room number.

"I need to find a guest, Alice Cullen." I guessed Alice would have put the hotel in her name but the clerk behind the desk just shook his head, speaking in a thick Italian accent

"I'm sorry sir, we cannot give out room numbers. Would you like to phone the room?" He motioned to the courtesy phones against the wall and I moved to the pick up the receiver when my cell phone rang in my jacket pocket.

"Alice!" I laughed, just thankful as all fuck she had called me back. "Alice, I have to see her, I have to see her now. What room are you in?"

"Edward, it's five in the morning. What's wrong?" Alice croaked over the phone. She must have been sleeping.

"Nothing is wrong! For the first fucking time in forever, everything is right. Everything is so fucking phenomenally right! I'm coming up, what room are you in?" I shouted into the phone, joyful as a motherfucker as the clerk shot me a dirty look from behind his desk, and I couldn't even be pissed at him.

"Stay there, I'll be right down," Alice said quietly, and I was beginning to wonder why she wouldn't just give me the fucking room number. I had to see Bella, my whole body itching in my skin to get to her.

"Alice, just give me the fucking room number. I'll bang on every door if I have to, I need to see Bella," I said into the phone.

I heard Alice sigh before she spoke. "Room 402. Bring coffee," she said before hanging up the phone. I placed the phone in my pocket and shouted at the clerk to send up three coffees to room 402 before running to the elevator and pushing the button half a dozen times, but I couldn't wait.

I bolted up the stairs to the fourth floor, taking them two at a time, and arrived on the landing sweaty and out of breath. I shrugged out of my jacket and tried to calm my breathing as I walked down the hall, looking for the numbers on the wall. I finally found their room and knocked continuously on the door until Alice's face peeked from behind it.

"Did the obnoxious fairy bite you last night or something," she said sarcastically as I barged in through the door and tossed my jacket on the bed.

"Where is she?" I said, looking around the small space and finding it empty. She wasn't here.

"Where's our coffee?" Alice asked and I paced in the room.

"Alice! Where the fuck is she? I need to see her. Tell me!" I pulled at my hair, fucking desperately trying to figure out where she was. Where would she go at five in the morning alone in a fucking foreign country?

My eyes fell upon the closed bathroom door, a faint yellow glow under the dark wood.

"Edward, wait-" My hand was on the knob and I pushed the door open before Alice could finish her sentence. I found myself drowning in a wave of sweltering lavender warmth.

And there she was. In the tub. Shaving her legs. And she was singing. Her headphones were in her ears and her mp3 player was balancing on the edge of the tub as her voice rang out in a familiar lyrical melody. "All I really, really want our love to do, is to bring out the best in me and in you…"

The soapy water beaded on her naked skin, soft white bubbles against her pale pink flesh, and her dark, wet hair looped along her neck and soft shoulders, her skin flawless and smooth. Her eyes gazed lazily upon the razor running along her slender leg with her foot perched on the edge of the tub, and I watched the soap bubbles slide down her back and along her spine until they disappeared over the top of her lovely behind and into the pool of water. I looked upon her in awe, her ease and happiness exuding sheer vibrancy from the foggy bathroom. God, she was so fucking beautiful.

"She's been like this since she got home from your apartment last night," Alice said from her seat on the bed behind me. "She said she had hope, Edward, said it was perched in her soul."

I couldn't stand being apart from her any longer. I cautiously walked into the bathroom and she suddenly looked over her shoulder. She removed the buds from her ears and set her player on the toilet, her eyes huge and filled with complete shock.

"Edward? What's wrong? What's the matter?" she gasped as she turned to slightly face me, and I couldn't stay away from her for one more second. I climbed into the tub, water filling my shoes and soaking me through to my skin as the water sloshed around our bodies and spilled onto the floor. I wrapped my arms around her body, her wet hands running through my hair as she smiled, a sly devious grin on her lips as she gazed into my eyes.

"Nothing matters. Just you, you're the only thing that matters to me," I murmured as I kissed her shoulder, her neck, her chin. I pulled her body closer to mine, my heart pounding as my hands clutched at her slippery skin, my fingers celebrating in the contact, and I felt my whole body ignite with energy, a jolt straight through every element of my being.

"You're so crazy," she laughed, and I shrugged, my hands running up her arms and cradling her face, and I ghosted my thumb over her cheek. "And I love you."

"I told you you would," I whispered, and I pressed my lips to hers, finally, tasting her sweet flavor, a slight tinge of lavender soap, and I melded into her body, both of us floating in the softly lulling water still lapping at the sides of the tub. "I want you forever, Bella."

She kissed me again, her hands pulling through my hair and gripping my neck as her tongue licked at my lips, accepting my own into her mouth. I frantically rolled my tongue with hers, drinking her in, and my heart felt like it was going to burst. I pulled away to press a profusion of soft delicate kisses upon her lips and cheeks and eyelids, and one more right on the tip of her nose.

"Forever, huh?" she teased breathlessly, and I smiled.

"That's all I'm asking for," I murmured against her wet skin as I pressed my cheek to her chest, the sound of her erratic heart thumping wildly against her ribs, and I knew, undoubtedly and without uncertainty, that this was where I was supposed to be. This was where I found my comfort, where I felt at ease and the place where I could rest my head. I was home.

We would still have our share of challenges and disappointments, the peaks and valleys characterized by our successes and failures. Like Bella had said, healing was a process, and the two of us were very much scabbed and scarred, but the healing would come and we would have love and laughter and friendship and each other. And I knew we'd be able to face whatever obstacles stood in our way, two elemental bodies orbiting this universe together, dodging the voids and vacuums of space as we spiraled through this life and the next, through hell or heaven or whatever plain of existence we should find ourselves travelling in. We will love and be loved, cosmically bound for a truly exceptional forever.

The End

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A/N

Joni...My devotion runs deep, people, my very soul wrapped up in the life's work of this one human being.

Case of You

All I Want

And a tiny reminder of an Emily Dickinson poem, Hope is the Thing with Feathers

Thank you for letting these characters into your lives, for letting me share this story and for indulging me with conversation every week. I've loved every minute of it, and appreciate the friendships I've forged through this experience so very much. Love bbs, all I have is love. And I've heard, that's all you need ;)

Epilogue to follow...