Chapter 4
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Edward stared at his wife, dumbfounded by the way she spoke, but even more than that, the way she looked.
In the muted light of the evening, with the flicker of candlelight illuminating her body and shimmering off her hair, she was mesmerizing…and Edward reacted as any man would when faced with such a sight.
He was hard again, painfully so. He was torn between throwing her over his shoulder and racing up the stairs to his bed where he could take her again or keeping her in the aggravated state she was in right this moment so he could look at her longer.
To him, both options were equally advantageous so there was no clear cut correct answer.
Isabella must have seen his indecision, and knowing her husband much better than he ever realized, she pointed a delicate finger at him, again, and said, "You stay right there, Edward. You may have swept me off my feet and we may have just had the most amazing and intense sex we've had in longer than I can remember, but I know that look. You are not going to use your gorgeous eyes or that sexy as hell smirk to get your way until we talk. Now Edward, tell me exactly what happened to you, please?"
The Italian siren stared at her husband and had to take a few deep breaths to calm her excited body. Edward was still distractedly naked and as soon as she mentioned their previous lovemaking, her body reacted in ways she never dreamed. Her heart rate picked up, her skin tingled, her nipples got hard, and that was nothing compared to the ache and wetness she felt between her legs. The cooler night air was not helping that situation at all.
Edward watched his wife in a sort of stupefied state. The comment she'd made about knowing his 'look' threw him for quite the loop. How did she know him so well when he worked so hard to keep his distance from her, he wondered? He couldn't argue with her though, he did want her again and had every intention of following through on his desire until she called that to a screeching halt.
Isabella shivered when an unexpected breeze blew across the yard. He suddenly realized he was still naked since he had been too busy ogling his wife, as any man in his right mind would when faced with such a sight, to bother to get dressed. He suddenly felt it a bit strange to have this discussion without his clothes on. The same went for his luscious wife.
That was way too much temptation for any man to have to fight.
"Isabella," Edward began hesitantly as his wife coolly looked at him. "I know you've prepared a delicious meal for tonight and I would hate to have all your hard work go to waste," he said truthfully.
"Edward, I really want to talk about this," she stated as she walked toward her husband. Edward reached down and pulled on his boxer briefs when he stood up. He didn't see his wife swallow a few times and take a few much needed breaths to calm her rapidly escalating desire for her husband. The thought of him covering his magnificent body with clothing of any kind felt positively sinful to her, but she did realize that if he didn't, absolutely no talking would be done.
As much as he was not looking forward to having this discussion, Edward knew the sooner he faced the music the better and hopefully he could convince Isabella for round number two. A man could only hope.
"Isabella, I know. I promise I'll tell you what you want to know," he said, sounding anything but excited at the prospect.
Edward had no idea how he was going to navigate this particular conversation and while not an overly devout man, he hoped for some angelic guidance at the very least. What the hell good was an angel if he couldn't help you figure out what to say to your wife?
Isabella stood and stared at him, suddenly a bit afraid of what the discussion would bring to light. His more than unusual behavior sincerely caused her great amounts of worry and trepidation. If there was something seriously wrong with him, she didn't know how she would handle it. The brief glimpse she'd just gotten of the true Edward Anthony Cullen, the one she'd known was there all along, made her fall in love with her husband even more than she already was. She said a very quick prayer for the strength to listen and to help if he needed her.
Needing nothing more than to touch him, she held her hand out to him so they could make their way into the house.
Edward hurried to his wife's side, needing to touch her just as greatly and when her tiny hand was enveloped in his large one, Isabella turned and looked at her husband. "Thank you for this afternoon, Edward. I can't remember the last time I've been so happy." After speaking her heartfelt words, she stood on her tiptoes and brushed her satiny soft lips across his stubbled cheek then sighed softly when she had to remove them.
They entered the kitchen where she hurried to the oven to check the food. Thankfully the dish she had made especially for Edward hadn't been overcooked and she breathed a sigh of relief.
Oh , she was still anxious as all get out over the impending conversation she and Edward were about to have, but she couldn't help but feel quite satisfied that the meal she had so lovingly and carefully prepared was cooked to perfection.
Edward, for his part, looked even more anxious than his wife, which came as no surprise. After all, it as he who was on the proverbial chopping block...for good reason.
"Sweetheart? Why don't you go and take a shower and change your clothes while the pasta cools? I'm sure you had a long day followed by a long flight home," Isabella spoke to her husband.
While she was a bit shocked at how easily the term of endearment slipped out of her lips, Edward was positively speechless. Yes, she'd called him sweetheart outside, but he attributed that to the heat of the moment. Hearing it now, effortlessly and without a second thought, touched him in a way that completely took him by surprise.
The warm, blissful feeling he'd felt on the plane washed over him and he basked in it for a brief time. The thought that it was his own damn fault that he hadn't experienced this feeling of contentment and joy much over the last five years did not go unnoticed. But as much as he wished things had been different, they weren't, and now he needed to use whatever time he had left treating his wife like the treasure she was.
"You don't need my help with anything?" he asked as he stood and watched her move purposely around the kitchen gathering the things she needed for their meal.
Isabella shut the utensil drawer with a bump of her sexy and partially naked hip and Edward's breath caught in his throat…for the umpteenth time since he'd arrived home. His wife was most definitely the most bewitching creature he'd ever encountered. He felt as if he was under a spell and it wasn't until Isabella dropped the silverware on the island with a clank that he was shaken from his stupor.
She looked at her husband, partly annoyed at his just standing there like a statue and partly terrified by his completely unfathomable behavior. "Edward, are you sure you're all right?" she asked as she blew the wisps of hair that had fallen in her face with a frustrated breath.
"Yes, love. I'm fine," Edward said softly as he moved, finally, forward and brushed the hair out of her face. "I won't be long," he finished as he kissed her forehead and then reluctantly pulled away and turned and walked toward the stairs where he'd left his bag.
Isabella watched him walk away, the lean and toned muscles of his back and legs flexing enticingly as he moved. If anything, during the five years they'd been married he got even better looking and certainly sexier. Men like Edward always got better looking with age; it was a fact of life women the world over bemoaned, but Isabella really couldn't complain too much. After all, she got to look at him every day.
She shook her head when he disappeared up the stairs and she frowned when she heard him move above her in his room. The night she moved her things from their marital bedroom into her own room was a night she wouldn't ever forget. She was a private person, preferring to rely on her own instincts and feelings when it came to making decisions. Her complete dedication to her studies and her sport, coupled with her determination to remain a virgin until she got married, left her with few close friends.
Isabella was well-liked by all who met her and the other tutors at the after school program adored her. Her parents' friends always marveled at how sweet and kind she was and when she accompanied her Nonna to Sunday Mass, she was hugged and kissed more than she felt comfortable with. She could have talked to her mother or grandmother about the state of her marriage, but she didn't. She could have talked Esme or Rosalie also, but again she chose not to.
While the decision to leave Edward's bed was supremely painful, she also knew, deep down in her soul, that she needed to protect him as well. She was well aware of his difficult manner, but she also knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was a reason for his behavior. She'd seen enough glimpses of the true Edward Cullen during their dating and engagement, not to mention their honeymoon and off and on during their marriage to know that beneath the hard shell there was a kind, tender, and loving man.
"She's something else isn't she?" Seth smirked at Edward as he exited the bathroom after taking what had to be the world's shortest shower.
Edward glared icily at the annoying angel person who was still dressed in his Chicago Cubs regalia and stomped toward his dresser to pull out his own pair of cargo shorts and a t-shirt. Studiously ignoring the deep chuckle that rumbled from the unwelcome presence in the chair by the window, he marched back into the bathroom to get dressed.
"Damn nosy, know-it-all, pain in the ass seraph," Edward muttered under his breath as he yanked on a clean pair of boxer briefs and then his khaki shorts and black t-shirt.
He wrenched the door open and stared at the being across the room. "Edward Anthony, you do realize I possess extraordinary hearing, don't you? And while I readily admit to knowing it all, I'm neither nosy nor a pain in the ass, as you so eloquently put it," Seth said, quite amused at his young charge.
"Whatever," Edward said in a voice that sounded much like a surly teenager being lectured by a parent.
"You want to tell me what's bothering you? It is, after all, my job to help you navigate these types of situations," the angel stated, tempering his amusement for the time being.
Edward sighed deeply, trying to articulate exactly what he was feeling. He was raw, the reality of the day hitting him like a tsunami. He walked toward the large windows that faced the backyard and realized with a start the he had only to take a moment…just one fucking moment at anytime …to look out of these windows and he would have been granted an insight into who his wife really was.
"I'm such a fucking idiot," Edward said sadly and rested his forehead against the cool glass. He tried to keep the melancholy he was feeling from spilling out of him, but he was having a hell of a time doing it. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture he'd done thousands of times before whenever he was upset.
Seth snorted, the sound filling the large room and Edward turned and narrowed his eyes at the angel. "What, you want me to disagree with you?" Seth asked smugly. "Edward, you are not a stupid man. Of course you're an idiot. You've lived the last twenty odd years with a chip on your shoulder the size of the moon, not to mention you've been burying your head in the sand like the world's most stubborn ostrich. Besides, I can't lie to you, so why even try?"
"It's not fair," he said pitifully and Seth couldn't help but laugh, shaking the glass beneath Edward's head.
"You want some cheese with that whine?" the angel retorted sharply.
Edward lifted his head quickly and sucked in a sharp breath. "What the hell? How can you say that? I found out today that I'm going to die! I found out that I've pretty much wasted the last five years of my life! I found out that the greatest gift I've ever been given lives in the same house as me but doesn't share my bed! I found out that my life is nothing close to what I want it to be," he finished and fell to his knees and held his head in his hands.
Immediately he was engulfed in a warm and comforting embrace that held him until his sobs stopped and he was able to catch his breath.
"Yes, Edward Anthony, what you just said is all true, but you have to look at the other side as well. You've also been given the time to right the mistakes you've made, ask for forgiveness from those you've wronged, and do what you can in the time you have left to make your life what you want," Seth said soothingly. "It's a gift, Edward, and you must treat it as such."
Seth waved his hand over Edward's head and instantly he was calmed and felt more relaxed, a fact of which Edward was most grateful for.
"Do you think that will help me with my wife?" Edward remarked seriously, even though the angel let go a booming laugh.
"I'm not sure even my angelic powers can help you with the lovely Isabella, Edward. Now shoo, I have places I need to be and I want to see this up close and personal," the angel stated excitedly, with a wicked gleam in his eye to boot. "You might as well face the music. Chances are it won't even be as bad as you think."
Edward got up off the floor and smoothed down his shirt before he started walking toward his bedroom door. He spun around so quickly, he caught the normally observant angel off guard. "Wait a damn minute!" Edward exclaimed heatedly. "What do you mean you have places to be? What if I need your help?"
The angel shook his head at his young friend. "Edward, my boy, all you ever have to do is call for me, and I will immediately appear. However, you are not my only responsibility at the moment," Seth told him indulgently.
As Edward stood with his hand on the doorknob he asked a question he'd always wanted to know the answer to. For as long as he could remember, he'd wanted to know. Well, to be more specific, since he was fourteen-years-old and had witnessed things he never spoke about…ever…he needed to know. "Where do you go when you leave me?" he asked quietly.
Seth sighed, the breath he expelled was cool and floated through the confines of Edward's room. "Ah, my young friend, that is a discussion we must save for another day. You already have much to discuss with your beautiful bride; you don't want to have to explain ruining her dinner as well do you?"
The angel was stalling, he was well aware of that fact, but he also knew that Edward was procrastinating having the discussion he was about to have with his very perceptive and brilliant wife.
"You'll be close by if I need you?" Edward asked, his voice shaking as he stepped out the door.
"I'm always here if you need me, Edward, never doubt that. Now, get your ass down there and face your wife," the angel said with a wink then disappeared with a soft laugh as Edward took a deep breath and began to descend the stairs.
"Damn angel," he muttered again.
While Edward showered and changed clothes, Isabella finished getting dinner ready and hastily cleaned herself up as well in the downstairs bathroom.
She had retrieved her pants and tank top from the deck, blushing profusely as she stepped outside in nothing but Edward's ruined dress shirt. As soon as she tiptoed back into the house she shook her head as she tried to clear her mind of what had just happened with her husband and tried, instead, to focus on the discussion they were about to have.
The guest bathroom she slipped into was well-stocked, as any good hostess would provide. She was able to clean up quickly; slipping both her pants and shirt on, leaving the lacy undergarments she'd chosen for her husband in the laundry room. The action left her feeling rather sexy and naughty which caused the normally demure woman to chuckle at herself.
Taking a deep breath as she looked in the mirror, Isabella noticed the flush to her cheeks and the way her eyes danced with hope and excitement. The conversation that was forthcoming not withstanding, the afternoon had turned out better than she could have ever dreamed. Edward had acted and spoke to her like the man she knew he was. He'd let her have a glimpse of him, walls down and open, and he was breathtaking.
She straightened her shoulders and vowed to do whatever was necessary to make sure THAT Edward was present more often. She had no doubt it would be a struggle to keep those walls from going back up, but as Edward would come to find out, she was most diligent when she chose to be.
"Love?" Edward called for his wife as he descended the last step. His heart was beating quickly and his palms began to sweat as he thought about how important the conversation he was about to have was. Not because of any angelic prophecy, but because Isabella deserved for him to be honest.
After five years, it was way past time for some honesty. Edward always chose to hide, it was easier that way. Today had taught him that not only did that particular mechanism harm himself but Isabella just as much. Perhaps even more so.
Isabella walked in from the deck, a soft breeze following in her wake and she gave Edward a brilliant smile. "I thought we could eat outside, is that all right with you? It's a lovely night out," she said as she walked toward the island to grab the salad and the basket of bread she'd just cut and wrapped in a linen napkin.
Edward, was- as was becoming a quick habit- totally enamored with his wife as he watched her move around the kitchen. Finally coming out his stupor when he heard the oven door close, he moved to help her.
"Let me carry that to the table," he said quietly as he picked up the dish of pasta. He flashed his wife a quick, but sincere smile and walked to the table outside.
The plate of antipasto was already on the table as well as a bottle of wine and wine glasses and Edward couldn't help but feel overwhelmed, yet again, at the lengths his wife continued to go to reach him.
Isabella followed behind him and set the salad and bread to the side of their place setting, reaching out to touch him on the arm, causing a warmth to spread through his body from the caress of her fingers. "Are you ready to eat, Edward?" she asked softly as she tilted her head to regard him.
"Everything looks delicious, Isabella," he said. He held her chair out for her and then sat in his own directly across from her.
The candles she had lit cast a warm glow over the table. Isabella began to load up Edward's plate with food, skipping the artichokes in favor of his favorite salami and prosciutto. The woman across from him was definitely much more perceptive and observant than he ever gave her credit for. It was amazing how something as simple as knowing he disliked artichokes made him aware of just how much she loved him.
He watched as she spooned the bruschetta onto the bread and then passed him his plate.
"Will you pour the wine, sweetheart?" she asked as she handed him her wineglass, the term of endearment used again in such an effortless manner.
"Of course," he nodded, and filled both glasses. His might have been a good deal fuller than hers for he was positive he would need it to calm his quickly spiraling nerves.
Isabella filled her own plate and then smiled at him before she began to eat, a comfortable silence settling around them. Edward could not remember the last time food had tasted so good. Everything was mouthwateringly delicious…the meats and cheeses had been seasoned to perfection. The salad and homemade dressing had the perfect balance of tangy and sweetness, the bread was soft and airy on the inside and crusty on the outside. All of it was perfect and they hadn't even made it to the main course yet.
He stared at his wife across the table as she picked up her wineglass. Her soft, pink lips framed the lip of the glass and when she was done, her tongue darted out to swipe a stray drop of wine and Edward had to shift in his chair and bite the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning out in excitement. She was so beautiful and had no idea what she was doing to him.
The urge to tell her he loved her swamped him suddenly, and though he wanted nothing more than to drop to his knees in front of her and beg her forgiveness and then pledge his undying love to her, he knew he owed her much more than words for his past behavior.
"Do you hate me?" he asked quietly, the question springing forth before he could stop it.
Quite honestly, he was terrified of the answer. Oh, Isabella had every right to hate him for the way he'd treated her for the last five years, even Edward was self-aware enough to realize that. The brief and intermittent moments he spent with her as a husband should, couldn't have been enough for someone as loving and giving as his wife was. He was so concerned about himself and being scared of letting her in that he'd unknowingly hurt her…and he wasn't sure how to deal with that. And though the angel had informed him that her love for him had only grown over time, he had a hard time believing that was the truth…no matter the being's assurances that their kind could not lie. Isabella was an amazingly selfless person, he knew that, but even still…patience could only last so long.
Isabella gasped at the soft, but heart-wrenching question just uttered by her husband. She had much she wanted to say to him, but decided since this is where he began she would answer him honestly, though he might not like the answer.
She folded her napkin beside her plate and stared at him for a moment while she gathered her thoughts. Edward Cullen was an incredible looking man, strong, confident…though most would say too confident, and powerful. But as he sat across from her, she couldn't help but think how vulnerable and exposed he looked just now.
"I don't hate you, Edward. I could never hate you," she said gently. Edward let out a breath he didn't seem to realize he was holding and just as he was about to say something else, she spoke again. "However, I dislike you most of the time," she said and watched her husband pale in the flickering candlelight.
Edward felt like he'd been punched in the stomach and it twisted painfully at her calm, quiet, but piercing words. Even though he had just before admitted her right to her feelings, it did not, in any way, lessen the impact her vocalizing them inflicted upon him. Somehow the realization that while she may love him, she didn't necessarily like him very much, hurt him more deeply than if she would have simply said that yes, she hated him.
Isabella cringed internally as she watched her husband's face fall at her admission, but he asked and she knew that if the two of them had any hope at all of moving forward, Edward would have to face some difficult truths. If she didn't love him so much and so irrevocably, she would have given up on him long ago. Five years was a hell of a long time to live with someone who barely registered your existence unless it suited him, but as Edward would soon discover about his wife, Isabella was as tenacious as the day was long.
She believed, without the benefit of angelic assurance, that her husband loved her as much as she loved him. She believed with all her heart that at some point in time something would happen and Edward would realize all the time he'd wasted keeping himself at an arm's distance from her. While she never, in her wildest imaginations, envisioned it would take five years, it seemed that some sort of reckoning was upon them. She was determined to find out what happened to the man that left Chicago a few short days ago and turned him into the man that sat before her now.
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