109Disclaimer: I don't own twilight.
A/N: Sunflower Fanfiction is my kick-ass beta. A big thanks to her for taking out the time to correct my mistakes. I also want to thank Eduardiana and Nicffwhisperer for recommending this story to people and every single one of you who read and reviewed. You guys are awesome!
Happy Reading!
The Road Home Chapter 2
A large, white envelope hits my desk with a loud thwack and I look up to find Jamie grinning down at me. His long, blond hair is tied behind him in a small ponytail and he wears a Led Zeppelin band T-shirt I gifted him two Christmases ago.
"Here are the pictures you asked for," He nods at the envelope, throwing himself in one of the chair facing me.
I sip on my coffee and open the envelope, taking out the stack of photos. I love the feel of the photo paper under my fingertips; it's cool and smooth and my fingers slide effortlessly across the paper.
It's an astonishing view on paper, no doubt about , but the snapshots feel empty to me. The ocean doesn't seem deep enough; and, the mountains, not high enough.
There are no goose bumps, no heartbeats.
It's hollow.
I slide my thumb over the watermark of my initials at the right hand corner of each photograph and sigh.
These photographs don't justify the real experience.
No photographs ever justify the real experience.
"Nice job on these, Iz. They look amazing." Jamie acclaims.
I shoot him a smile.
I go through the pictures quickly and separate them into neat piles. I put the ones that highlight the ethereal beauty of the island back into the envelope and hand it to Jamie saying, "Send the soft-copies of those to Marcus. Tell him he can pick any for that article on skydiving."
Jamie takes the envelope from me and nods, but doesn't stand. I gather the rest of the pictures and put them in my desk drawer.
"I can't remember the first photo I ever took. It was so insignificant. I mean, back then I didn't even know I wanted to become a professional photographer." Jamie speaks randomly, staring upward, his arms behind his head.
"You're not alone there, bud. Most photographers don't remember." I tell him.
Jamie grins but shakes his head. "Do you remember yours?" He asks suddenly.
Of course, I remember.
I shake my head, forcing memories of mud fights and stolen kisses away from my mind. Instead of answering, I check my phone for what seems like the thousandth time today.
The screen is black, indicating that there are no missed-calls.
"Any important calls?" My question stirs Jamie awake from his silent musings.
"Nah. I'm the one calling people like crazy to cancel your appointments for the month. I swear to God, Iz, the amount of work you do in a week is downright scary." Jamie fakes a shiver, saying, "I've cleared your schedule for the month, though. You're good to go."
I mumble a thank you to Jamie and open the recent call logs on my phone, calling the first number I see. I've been constantly calling this number since yesterday and no one has picked up yet. It was driving me crazy.
"So … About that di―" Jamie starts to stay but stops, looking at me and frowning. "What is it? You look worried."
I end the call, sighing. "It's Em. He isn't picking up his damn phone."
"You think this has got something to do with your friend getting married?"
I look at him, biting my lip. "Maybe."
Slouching in my chair, I push myself in circles, thinking, as my eyes sweep over the pictures on the walls. Em is in almost every single one of them, always smiling or laughing. He's got one of those smiles that are contagious and it makes me smile.
I straighten up in my seat as an idea suddenly hits me.
"Do you remember the guy that Em brought with him to the bar a couple of times—the one that works with him?" I turn to Jamie, almost bouncing in my seat.
He looks up at me, wide-eyed. "You mean the gay dude who forcefully installed his number in my phone?"
I nod vigorously. "Do you still have his number?"
"Yeah, I think so," Jamie pulls out his phone from his pocket and I all but rip it away from his hand. I scroll down his contacts, muttering, "What was the guy's name?"
"Gabe? Gale? Gary?" Jamie scrunches up his face, trying to remember.
"Garrett?" I stop at the name on the screen.
"Yeah, that's the guy." Jamie nods.
I hit call and wait for someone to pick up.
"Hello?" A masculine voice answers.
"Hi. You may not remember me but I'm Bella Swan, one of Emmett's friends."
Garrett chuckles on the other end. "No, I remember you. The hot brunette, right? How is that blond friend of yours? He never called."
I stifle a smile and look at Jamie. "Oh, he's good."
"How may I help you, Bella?"
"I was wondering if you know where Em is. I've been calling him but he isn't picking up and I'm getting worried. Isn't his assignment in Virginia supposed to be over by now?" I speak into the phone, nervously toying with the ends of my hair.
Jamie stares at me impassively.
"As far as I know, his assignment completed over a week ago. He's back in New York but he hasn't been in the office. I think he's taken a couple of weeks off for personal reasons."
"Oh, well, thanks. Please call on this number if you happen to hear from him."
I hang up and give Jamie back his phone.
"Em is MIA," I say, grabbing my phone from the desk and standing up. "C'mon," I usher Jamie out of my studio office.
"Where are we going?" Jamie gets into the passenger seat of the car and pulls on his seatbelt while I start the engine.
"To Em's."
"You look so tired, Iz. Didn't you get any sleep last night?" Jamie frowns at the bags under my eyes.
"Jet lag sucks ass." I put on my shades to cover my eyes.
"Yeah tell me about it." Jamie massages the back of his neck.
The flight back from Hawaii to New York was a long one. I was barely able to sleep as my hyperactive mind kept mulling over Rose's call. I hadn't been home in so long. When I left Forks after the funeral, I never thought I'd be returning. There were too many hateful words, too many broken promises, even to consider returning. I had turned my home into my personal hell without even realizing what I had done.
I pull up in the drivewayin front of Em's house and let out a breath.
The outside of the house looks perfect.
There's no broken doors or shattered windows.
Jamie gets out of the car and walks slowly to the door, ringing the bell twice. I press my ear to the door but don't even hear a whisper of life inside.
Jamie backs away from the door. "So, do I kick it down?"
I roll my eyes.
"That's not necessary." I walk over to the lawn and turn over a flowerpot just enough to swipe the key from underneath. Using the key, the door clicks open.
The inside of the house is dark. I remove my shades and switch on my phone to give us some light. The curtains are drawn so I walk over and yank them open. As the light through the window illuminates the living room, I gasp aloud.
Countless empty bottles of beer and other alcoholic beverages cover the floor. Clothes are strewn all over the place. The kitchen countertop is stacked with empty pizza and take-out boxes, and there is an overflowing pile of dirty dishes in the sink. The acrid smell in the air makes me gag.
A groan reverberates around the inside of the house and I follow the source of the noise to one of the bedrooms with Jamie hot on my heels.
The sight inside makes me palm my face.
Em lies sprawled across the mattress, his face digging into one of the pillows. Half of the covers are on the floor and half of them are cocooned around his legs. He's only in his boxers and just as in the living room, the floor in the bedroom is also littered with empty beer bottles. From where I'm standing, I can't get a good look at his face, but I can see enough to tell that he hasn't shaved in days.
Jamie shakes him. "Em, man, get up."
Em doesn't move a single inch so Jamie tries again.
"Don't bother," I tell him after his fifth, unsuccessful attempt. "He won't get up."
Jamie's face blanches. "What do you mean?"
I ignore his question and go to the kitchen, returning with a glass filled with coldwater. Jamie's eyes pop open and he backs away as I dump the water over Em's head.
The effect is immediate.
Em jumps awake, turning over in a blink of an eye.
"What the hell?" He roars at me.
I grab a towel from the cupboard. Leaping on top of the bed, I literally start kicking him out. He instinctively shies away from my hits until he's precariously hanging from the edge of the bed.
"Get.
The.
Fuck.
Up."
I throw the towel in his face.
Em falls on his ass with a loud thump and pulls the towel away from his face, raising his hands in surrender. Jamie helps him up and that's when I get a good look at his face.
There are dark shadows under his eyes and his greasy hair has grown way past his ears. Half of his face is covered with a rough beard. The haggard look on his face makes my eyes tear.
"Go take a shower. You stink." I point at the bathroom door.
He acquiesces, walking to the door and closing it behind him.
"And shave off that damn beard!" I shout as I hear the shower begin.
I walk back to the kitchen and pull a few bills from my purse, stuffing them in Jamie's hand. "Get us some food." Opening the refrigerator door, I scrunch my nose in disgust. "And pick up some groceries on your way. There's barely anything edible in here."
As soon as Jamie takes my keys and walks out, I get to work.
I pick up the empty bottles and stow them in a plastic bag, making a mental note to put it in the garbage bin later.I collect the clothes strewn all over and strip the bed of its covers, and then put them in the washing machine. After washing the dishes, I go and sit down on the couch and wait for Em to finish.
Putting my feet up on the table, I adjust the cushions to get a bit more comfortable and that's when I feel something beneath the palm of my hand. Pulling it out, I curse aloud.
Barging into the bathroom, I find Em standing in front of the sink, shaving. Glaring at me, he tightens the towel wrapped around his waist and opens his mouth to yell, but I cut him off, "What the fuck is this?" I hold up the packet containing fine white powder.
His face pales and he quickly reaches for the packet, but I'm faster. In the blink of an eye, I have the top of the packet opened and hovering over the open toilet. "So, is this how it goes, things don't work out the way you want them, so you turn to drugs? You fucking coward!" I yell.
Em shakes his head frantically, looking desperate. "I swear to God, Bella, I didn't use. I just bought it on a whim."
My eyes sweep over him, checking for any sign that he maybe lying. But as horrible as he looks, he doesn't look as if he's on coke, so I roll my eyes and let the packet drop, flushing it down quickly.
"Finish and come to the living room. We have to talk." I tell him and leave.
I find an egg in the refrigerator that doesn't smell too bad, so I heat up a pan and fry it. By the time I'm finished, Em is sitting on the couch, his face clean of facial hair. He looks emaciated, his expression forlorn, but at least now, he looks like himself. I hand him the plate and take a seat beside him.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask as he takes his first bite.
Em swallows audibly. "I just couldn't."
He wasn't going to make this easy.
"What happened? Why'd you break up?"
He sighs. "You were right before, when you said I'm a coward. I really am a fucking coward. I always knew we'd somehow end up together and I knew I'd marry her." He gulps. "I guess I just took her for granted."
I wait silently as he continues. "She kept talking about rings and the kind of gown she'd wear for her own wedding and I just freaked out, Bella. I felt like I was too young to get married and I told her so."
"And?" I probe.
"She told me we should take a break … A break, Bella. That was all this was supposed to be. She wasn't supposed to go and get engaged in the meantime." He cradles his head in his hands.
I pinch the tip of my nose, huffing. "You idiot."
"When Edward called me a couple of weeks ago, telling me about the wedding, I thought he was joking." Em says, his voice muffled by his hands.
I ignore the way my heart jumps at his name, instead concentrating on Em's words. "I mean, nobody even bothered to tell me about her engagement. If I knew, I would have … I could have …" His voice falters and I can almost hear the choked sobs in them.
"How'd you know?" He questions suddenly.
"Uh, Rose called me a couple of days ago. She … She wants me to be her bridesmaid."
He nods silently, looking resigned.
"I take it you won't be going to Forks then." I say.
He shakes his head. "It's too painful. I won't be able to just stand there and watch her marry another guy." Em says the last part with acerbity that surprises me.
I keep silent because I don't have any words to comfort him. Maybe it was because a tiny part of me that still foolishly believed in love and forever was dying.
"If marrying that guy is what will make her happy then I'm happy for her." Em announces in an emotionless voice.
At these words, the last of my hope withers away.
Suddenly, I'm angry again.
I want to shake him, kick him, and slap him until he cries for her.
I want to scream at him until he realizes what an idiot he's been.
I want him to go and get her back.
Instead, I just sit there and stare blankly.
Nana Hale lied.
I narrow my eyes at the car speeding towards me and hold my breath. There's only one person in this small town who owns a silver Volvo, so I'm not surprised when the door opens and Edward gets out.
"What are you doing here? I called for Rose." I stop swinging my legs through the open truck door and cross my arms in front of me.
"Well, hello to you, too." One corner of his mouth pulls up in his trademark smirk as he surveys the damage around me. "How do you always manage to end up in these situations, Bella?" He stares pointedly at my truck tires, which are currently drowning in mud.
I roll my eyes, hopping off my seat. This is my fifth, car disaster in a year. Okay, maybe my sixth. My point is cars and I don't actually get along.
"It just won't budge." I groan.
"Okay, get in and restart it while I go push from behind. If that doesn't work, I'll drop you home." Edward starts to roll up the end of his jeans as I get in the truck.
"You ready?" I shout glancing back to see Edward position himself behind my truck, his palms flat against its body. Beneath his T-shirt, I can see the muscles in his arms straining, and I can't help but stare. He looks up and catches me, as I quickly turn back around, blushing slightly.
The air carries the sound of his chuckles back to me, and my blush deepens as I hit the accelerator as hard as I can.
"Fuck!" His angry voice comes from behind.
"Dammit, Bella, stop!" Edward growls.
I cut the engine and jump out.
"What's the pro―" I stop dead in my tracks, a sudden laugh bursting out of my mouth.
Edward stands behind my truck, his arms in the air and covered in mud from head to toe. His fiery, bronze hair that somehow always manages to stand on its ends, is now plastered to his forehead. The expression of shock on his face pushes me over the edge and all of a sudden, I'm laughing hysterically, clutching my stomach for dear life.
I'm too busy getting my laughter under control and I don't notice when Edward moves out of my line of view. Suddenly, out of the blue, something hits me hard in the back of my head and the resulting force makes me double over, falling face forward into the puddle of mud.
Resounding laughter hits my ears and I get up slowly, wiping the mud off my face. Turning around, I find Edward leaning on my truck, a satisfied grin etched across his face.
Without thinking about the consequences, I lunge at him, throwing us both off-balance, and tumbling down into the knee-deep mud. Edward's arms go around me and he turns us slightly so that he falls on his back with me above him.
He grunts below me and I look down at him.
"You okay?" I ask, concerned the fall might have hurt him.
He stares at me, his eyes full of mirth and I realize a second too late that I'm in trouble.
I squeal as Edward rolls us over and pushes me down in the mud, his lips inches from mine. My eyes bounce from his eyes to his lips and suddenly I find myself wanting him to close the distance between us.
Edwards cups my cheek and lightly touches my lips with his thumb, almost as if he's asking for permission.
I reach up and pull his face down to mine.
Our lips move in perfect synchronization.
I think back to all the moments I wanted to run my hand through his hair, so I go ahead, throwing caution out the window, and tug on a fistful. Edward moans slightly in my mouth and the sound sends a shiver down my spine. I let my hands wander over his back and gasp aloud when he nips at my bottom lip.
A car zooms past us, and a voice bellows, "Get a room!"
We break apart, smiling at each other like idiots.
I pull the zipper of my suitcase closed, and roll it to the door. I have to get up at four in the morning to catch the flight. All I want now is to get in bed and get a good night's sleep.
My mind refuses to shut up.
I toss and turn for a couple of hours, trying desperately to sleep. When it doesn't work, I begrudgingly get on my feet and walk to my closet, knowing full well sleep won't come until I get this over with.
Standing on my toes, I reach for the black box on the highest shelf and blow off the dust. I settle down on the hardwood floor and breathe in deeply. Opening the box, I avoid looking at most of its contents because I simply can't bear that right now. My hands search for something in particular and I pick it up when I feel it under my fingers.
The photo is one from an instant camera.
It's a little blurry, a little unfocused; but, even through the sheets of rain, the green eyes are piercing.
"Take a picture, Bella. It'll last longer."
I smile at the memory of his voice ringing in my ears.
I had done what he asked.
I did take a picture.
I took this picture.
And now, after all these years, I wish I hadn't.
Sighing, I put the photograph back and close the lid over the photograph of the only boy I've ever loved.
The boy I never deserved in the first place.