Bella wasn't sure she wanted to reach the cabin, considering the discussion they'd have once they arrived. Edward's silence was like a third passenger that sat between them, with a blank look on his face. He'd yet to meet her eyes since the moment she insisted on driving after his seizure. He hadn't fought her, but there was no doubt he hated that she had asked. He saw it as a weakness.
Being the kind of man he was, she could understand where he was coming from. He'd always been the one to take care of things, and now, as she drove them to their destination, she was taking care of him.
"You're not supposed to be driving, are you?"
"No," he grunted, leaving it at that. She purposely drove into a deep hole on the dirt road, causing him to curse and grab hold of the "oh shit" bar over his window. He leveled a look at her that would have melted titanium, but instead of cowering as he expected, she met him head on with a glare of her own. His gaze dipped down to her lips, and for just a millisecond, he appeared amused before he schooled his features. "I'd like for us to make it to the cabin alive, Bella."
It wasn't often that he said her name, and she could count the number of times with both hands. Yet, every time he did, often in the heat of a moment and whispered against her neck, she melted. The man had too much power over her and yet seemed unaware of it. Hell, she was positive that he wouldn't want it anyway. She was angry that he kept something so vitally important to his health from her, especially since she was staying with him.
Since they arrived at his cabin days earlier, she had worked up the courage to explain her past to him. Every time she had, she utterly failed when faced with the possibility that he'd send her packing. What would she do then? Turn tail and run; it was something she was good at when faced with uncertainty. Finding a new identity wouldn't be hard, and maybe it was time to leave the states. Her Italian wasn't so bad. Yet, the idea of leaving Edward, sweet Esme, and cute Carlisle made her sick to her stomach.
It was clear that it was time for each of them to face their pasts, and see if there was a possibility of a future. If only Edward would stop appearing as if he was facing an execution, she wouldn't feel so nervous.
It was dark by the time she pulled up to the side of Edward's cabin. They hadn't left any lights on, since they usually made it home just after sunset. Circumstances being what they were, Bella felt out of place, awkward in her own skin. Edward's silence didn't help, especially once the truck's headlights turned off after the engine stopped.
"I'm not going to like what you have to say, am I?"
"It was the past, Edward, remember that going in. It'll only affect us if you let it." He only nodded in response, exiting the truck without any assistance. She tried to catch up to him when they reached the door that led into a mudroom and laundry. "Wait up."
"I can fucking walk," he hissed, toeing out of his boots. His hand rose to the collars of his shirts at the nape of his neck, and he removed them, tossing them in a basket near the washer.
"Did I say you couldn't?" she asked, removing her shoes, since there was some mud on them, too. "You were a horrible patient, weren't you?"
"They called me Satan's Twin during my stay at the center," he said. His tone was flat and uninterested, but quick to add, "No idea why."
"Really? I find that so difficult to believe," she said with sarcasm heavy in her tone, pasting a smile on her face.
He walked right into the kitchen, not even bothering to see if she'd follow. The fridge was his destination and its door was almost a casualty of his growing anger. Looking in, he searched the contents inside with unseeing eyes.
"I was a pissed off asshole that wanted out of the damn hospital and away from nurses poking and prodding me with needles and machines. I felt like an experiment and caged in those same four walls."
"So you went about as far from that place as you could the moment they set you free."
He shut the fridge without getting anything, and walked the length of the kitchen with his hands in his hair. Anxiety tensed every single one of his muscles, and Bella had no doubt he was feeling as caged as he had in that hospital.
"How are you driving?" she asked after a minute of watching him.
He spun around as if she startled him. "The weed and Emmett's baby girl."
"Emmett's daughter," she said softly, her heart breaking a little as he explained. She'd only met Jasmine once, and realized that something was different about the little girl. A person wouldn't know it with just a look, but if they watched her, they'd notice she didn't use her right arm much and walked with a slight limp.
Edward's voice was warmer as he told her everything about Emmett's daughter she hadn't known. By the time she reached two years of age, she had undergone three brain surgeries and would always have neurological and other health issues. He explained that the poor little girl would have seizures for the rest of her life. As an alternative to the drugs she was on to combat it, Rosalie looked into using other methods, including a cannabis oil made with a strain that didn't produce the high of regular marijuana. California had waiting lists a mile long, and Jasmine had another two years before they could do it legally.
Edward had already found a friend of a friend, and was growing the strain for his own use. He gave them the oil in exchange for Emmett to turn his cheek about growing it and driving. He had the perfect place for the small crop up on the mountain.
"I take medications for anxiety, but smoking every couple of days helps with the seizures."
"Did you think I'd give you shit about it?" He shrugged, not really looking at her. "Edward, I've smoked pot, too, and not the kind you have here."
His eyebrows rose high, his gaze finally meeting hers, surprised by her revelation. "High school?" he said, stating it like a question.
"Not really, but for me to explain all that, I pretty much need to start from the beginning. Are you feeling up to it?"
"No," he said, roughly rubbing a hand over his face. "I think I need to sit down."
She nodded and made her way around the island that stood between them. Keeping her eyes on his, she wrapped her arms around his waist, just to see if he'd turn her away. He shivered and it broke her heart a little more.
"It's going to be all right," she stated softly, pressing a kiss to his chest. One of his idle hands lifted to the small of her back, a fingertip there swirling in a small circle. He looked down at her, his brow furrowed as his eyes roamed slowly over her face. "I'll leave if you ask me to." His eyebrows rose, as if he couldn't believe that. "All right, I'll bitch for several minutes, then leave."
"Always have to have the last word," he said, leading them to the living room. He sat down, but as she was about to sit on the other end of the couch, he seemed to have second thoughts. His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, tugging her down beside him. "You're too far away."
Bella always found that moments like this with Edward were rare. From what she gathered in their interactions so far, physical contact was limited to his parents for him since his arrival atop the mountain. She tried to give him space when he seemed to need it, but more than half of the time, he pulled her closer instead.
She had to take a few seconds to make sense of everything in her head. There was no unraveling it or easy way to tell him. "I married my best friend the day after I turned eighteen and he left for basics a month later." Edward's body felt like it turned to stone beside her. "I stayed behind to finish my senior year, and I moved on base once housing was available."
"Jesus, you were an army wife and just a kid," he said, shaking his head, and then eyes narrowed. "Tell me he didn't hurt you." His gaze darkened, and from the tight-lipped words, she knew where his thoughts had led him. He knew from experience.
She tried not to read too much into the fact that he placed her beside him. "He didn't mean to."
"Christ," he hissed and jumped up, but gestured for her to continue as he paced.
Bella tugged on her hair for a moment, trying to dispel the images that started to come at her from all sides. "He was my best friend since I was ten and when he finally had the balls to tell me how he really felt, it was a few months before he graduated. We had a great summer before we married and he left. I visited when I could after he finished Basic, and things were good, at first. It took some getting used to. Best friend or not, I didn't know everything about him. It was like you said, we were kids, not used to all of each other's habits. I had the freedom to do what I wanted—work, go to school, and take pictures during his deployment. Anyway, it was after his first tour that things dramatically changed. He was gone for a little over a year and the homecoming was subdued. He'd lost a friend, had seen things. I knew it would take time to acclimate afterward, especially after the first deployment. Some of the other wives warned me. It was the third night that I realized he wasn't sleeping in bed. I checked on him, found him asleep on the couch and…"
Edward had his back to her, but his words felt like arrows. "He attacked you."