Again: Chapter 10

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Chapter 10

Chicago, 2012
"I met Edward for coffee last week." Rose drops her fork and I lean over the
table to grab her water before she has a chance to repeat her last performance.
"You know, you really need to get your reflexes figured out."

"You did what?" There's an equal combination of irritation and astonishment in
her voice. Thankfully, I'd prepared myself for her reaction before even leaving
for our lunch date.

"I met Edward for coffee. He wanted a chance to explain some things to me,
and I wanted a chance to pick his brain about life after Bella." I shrug. "It was
nothing, Rose. It meant nothing."

"I've been your best friend for years, Swan. I know when you're lying and right
now, it's a good thing you're not Pinocchio, because your nose would have
grown at least three inches with that last statement."

I roll my eyes and dig into my pasta. "It really wasn't a big deal. We drank
coffee, he told me about his life over the last ten years, and then we went our
separate ways."

"What was there to tell you about? The accommodations at various rehab
facilities in the Midwest?" Rose is a fiercely loyal friend—and a fierce bitch when
she feels like one of her friends might need protecting.

"Ha ha, very funny. We talked about his time in rehab, yes, but we spent more
time discussing his art and why he's in Chicago."

Rose stares at me for a beat, and then goes back to her salad. "I hope you
know what you're getting yourself into, Bella. It's not like this is some new guy
you met on Match that you're infatuated with. This is the one man who has the
power to completely wreck you, and he's already done that once."

"I'm well aware of that sweetie, and please don't blow this out of proportion. We
had coffee, we caught up a little, and that was that." I stab a piece of cavatappi
with my fork. I can feel my friend's stare, but I refuse to look at her. I have no
interest in receiving a lecture today, regardless of how well intentioned it may
be.

Rose pushes her plate away and takes her water back. When I look up at her,
she has her fingers steepled beneath her chin and her eyes have softened. "I
would never want to trade in my best friend role. Ever. But it's so hard
sometimes. Like when I had to sit on the sidelines and watch you get your heart
broken repeatedly by the same guy." She slides one hand across the table and
covers mine with it. "We're adults now, and I know this. We were technically
adults back then, although sometimes I wonder if we really grasped that
concept. In any case, you can make your own choices and you'll be the one to
deal with the consequences of those choices. Just … please don't let any sweet
nothings he might whisper drown out everything that he did before. He treated
you pretty awfully, Bell, and I know it's in the past. I know everyone always
preaches about the importance of forgiveness, but please don't forget what
happened."

I squeeze Rose's hand and smile. "I love you for sitting on the sidelines. I had to
learn those lessons for myself, but don't you ever for one second think I didn't
appreciate the support I got from you and Kate. And as far as forgetting goes, I
could never forget all the bad things that happened. But if I'm being honest,
after talking to Edward and reading some letters he wrote to me during rehab, it
makes the blow from all the bad things just a little bit less intense."

Our mushy moment ends and we get back to our lunch. Just when I think we're
about finished, Rose orders a dessert and settles down further into her chair. I
raise an eyebrow and she smiles mischievously. "All right, Swan, let's hear the
details about this chat. I'm sure you're dying to spill the beans."

This is precisely why I love my best friend.

.

.

.

I spend the next hour telling Rose all about Edward's letters and the things he
shared with me during our chat over coffee. She's just as shocked as I was to
learn that Kate had something to do with his recovery. I make myself a promise
then, that if I ever see my old friend again, I'll be nothing less than gracious for
what she did to help him.

We wrap up lunch so Rose can get back to work. I have the day off and plenty
of errands to run, but I find my feet carrying me in the opposite direction that I
need to go. Before I know it I'm standing in front of the building that houses
Edward's studio. I have no idea what I'm doing here, but I creak the door open
and step inside anyhow.

I wander through the halls until I find the space with his name next to it. The
heavy door is already ajar and I can tell Edward is in here. I poke my head in
and look around. Loud music fills the air and all the windows on the far side of
the room are open, letting the fall breeze waft around the space. Edward has a
large canvas stretched over one of the walls, and that is what he's working on. I
slide the door open enough to step inside and then close it most of the way
again. I'm a few feet away from him when Edward turns around.

"Jesus Christ—Bella! Wow, you're here!" He drops his palette on an overturned
milk crate and turns down the music. His hands and the front of his jeans are
streaked with paint. He has the top four buttons open on his shirt and part of
his chest peeks out. I used to think there was no way Edward could get any
more attractive than he already was, but age has done wonders for him.

"I'm sorry I startled you. I was in the area and thought I'd stop by…" my words
trail off and I look down at my hands. Edward grabs a towel and wipes at his
fingers, then strides over to the mini fridge across the room. He comes back
with two Cokes and hands me one.

"It's okay. It's a nice surprise." He takes a pull from his soda and I can't take
my eyes off him. My eyes follow the sharp lines of his jaw to his neck where his
Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. I bring my own bottle to my lips just as his
eyes find mine. A smirk spreads across his face and I feel my cheeks warm.

"What are you working on?" I ask in an effort to hide my embarrassment over
being caught ogling him.

"It's a watercolor rendition of The Bean," he explains. "There's a new PR film
opening in Lincoln Park and they commissioned me to paint it. I'm not sure I
like how it's coming together so far, however."

"I love it," I tell him with sincerity. I step closer to the canvas and point to an
area with many bright colors. "I love the excitement you've created in this area,
just by using the colors you did. I know you aren't finished yet, but looking at
this the way it is now reminds me of the picture perfect summer day in Chicago.
Blue skies, sunlight, food vendors, and tour bus ticket sellers running all over,
while tourists try to navigate their way around and natives curse them under
their breath. It's all here, in just this one part of the canvas."

He looks at the canvas again and shakes his head. "I can't see it. But, I'll take
your word for it." He motions to a small table he has set up in the corner of the
room. "I don't have any real furniture in here, because it's always just me, but
you're welcome to camp out there for a bit if you'd like."

I take another sip of Coke and look around the room. There's an open space
against the wall, just below one of the windows, with a perfect view of the
canvas. "Mind if I sit over there?" I point and Edward shrugs in response. I drop
by purse to the floor and sink down, sitting criss-cross-applesauce style on the
concrete floor.

Edward picks his palette up once more and starts working on the same section
of the canvas I just referenced. "So were you really just in the neighborhood, or
is there a purpose to your visit? I'm not complaining either way, I just wanted
to ask."

I look down at my bottle and blurt out the first words that come to mind. "I'm
divorced." The paintbrush stops moving and Edward slowly turns around to face
me.

"Okay?" The confusion in his tone matches the expression on his face, so I
continue quickly.

"You shared your last ten years with me over coffee, so I thought it would be
nice to share my last ten with you as well."

A small smile plays on his lips and he turns back to the painting, brush strokes
resuming. "I'm all ears."

"When you didn't show up for my major project showing, I wasn't just angry, I
was mortified. It was so embarrassing for me. I always had my shit together,
my ducks lined up perfectly in a row, and to have all that ruined because of poor
decisions on your behalf, well, it was awful. When I went to Mrs. Cope, I was
honest about everything—including your addiction." Edward's hand stops
moving and his shoulders bristle. "I'm lucky that she had as much respect for
me as she did, because I think that's the only reason she gave me a second
chance. Well, that and because she knew I had no control over the things you
chose to do.

"I had a meeting with Mrs. Cope the morning I saw you outside of her office.
There was an internship opportunity at a gallery in Nashville, and she got me an
interview with the gallery owner. I didn't have to think twice about the
opportunity. I knew if they took me, I'd leave in a heartbeat given everything
that had just happened between us." I close my eyes and think back to the day
that everything really ended between us. "I was so mad at you, but I felt more
hurt than anything. When I saw you in the hallway, part of me wanted to fling
myself into your arms and the other part wanted to punch you. I probably
should have at least heard you out, since I hadn't taken any of your calls up to
that point, but I just couldn't. I needed to get away from you so I could start
fresh. I knew if I gave you any time, even just a few minutes, I'd lose all the
momentum I'd built up and fall right back into the roller coaster we were on. So,
I shut down your attempts to apologize and I got away from you as quickly as I
could.

"I had the interview for the internship and the gallery owner offered it to me
right there on the phone. We graduated, I filled my Nissan with as much as I
could fit inside of it, and then I left for Nashville and told myself I'd never look
back."

"Nashville?" Edward stops painting and turns around, and I'm surprised when he
laughs. "I'm sorry, I'm not making light of things, I just can't see you in the
deep south. You're not exactly the spurs and ten gallon hat kind of gal."

I can't help but laugh myself. "No, no I'm not. But the longer I was there, the
more I fell in love with the city—especially the music scene. I used to frequent a
few clubs down on Broadway, and that's where I met Ben. He played guitar in a
local band at night, was an accountant by day, and we hit it off right away. He
was the polar opposite of you, in all these ways. He was blonde hair and brown
eyes, only a few inches taller than me, and about as straight laced as they
come. I threw myself head first into a relationship with him hoping that he could
chase away your memory and stitch up the gaping scar you'd left on my heart.
It didn't quite work that way, however."

Edward continues painting, but I can tell he's hanging on every word I say
"Things seemed to go well for me in Tennessee. Ben and I spent almost all our
spare time together and my internship turned into a full-time position at the
gallery. A year after we started dating, Ben proposed and I said yes. We got
married six months later and all was right in the world. Ben was a great man,
don't get me wrong, he gave me the world and he loved me with his all, but I
could never stop comparing him to you. You were constantly there, in the back
of my mind, and no matter how many wonderful things Ben did for me, he just
wasn't you, Edward."

He stops painting and sets his palette down once more. When he turns to face
me, my heart jumps in my throat. His eyes are red and his cheeks are damp
with fresh tears.

"Ben and I stayed together," I continue. "We got a house in Brentwood and
adopted a dog from a rescue group. We tried to be the couple everyone envied,
but the longer things went on, the more unhinged they became. Eventually, we
started fighting about everything, from the color of the walls in our dining room
to whether or not we could afford a trip up to Minneapolis to see my mom for
Christmas. Ben was a fixer, and he would always try to mend things between
us, but I'd just push him away. We kept this back and forth, push-pull stuff up
for eight years and then he finally asked for a divorce."

"God, Bella, I'm so sorry."

I shrug. "Honestly, it was for the best. I should never have agreed to marry him
in the first place, because I was doing it for all the wrong reasons."

He nods and bites down on his lip. "So you came here after the divorce was
final?"

"I did," I tell him. "Rose came to Chicago a few years after graduation, to get
her MBA. She met her husband and they settled down here. I wanted to go
someplace where I knew at least one person, and she was always talking about
how amazing the city is. So I lined up a job at Alice and Jasper's gallery, got an
apartment, and came hauling back to the Midwest. That was six months ago."

His eyes widen. "Only six months? I thought you'd been here longer than me for
sure."

I shake my head. "Nope. I'm the newbie of this duo."

Edward grabs his brush and squirts some fresh paint onto his palette. "Thank
you for sharing all of that with me. You know you didn't have to, right? I hope I
didn't give you the impression that I was expecting an explanation of some
sort."

"I know I didn't have to. I wanted to." I push myself up off the floor and stretch
my arms high above my head. "If we're going to be friends again, then I think
it's important that we put all of this stuff out in the open. No secrets, you
know?"

Edward's lips turn up in a smirk. "Friends, huh? When did you decide this?"

"Sometime between last week and today."

"And you're okay with that?" I can tell he's trying to keep his smirk from
morphing into a full-scale grin. The enthusiasm coupled with shyness is actually
cute. "Being friends?"

I nod. "I'm fine with it. I mean, we're in the same city now, and even though it's
a big city we both run in the art circle. We're bound to cross paths occasionally,
and I'd much rather be on good terms when that happens. Wouldn't you?"

The full-scale grin comes out then, along with a deep laugh. "Absolutely. I'd
much rather you smile and say hello than spend your free time locked away
with Rose, planning how you're going to kill me."

"Oh, Rose might still come up with ways to inflict bodily harm. I promise I'll
encourage her to go easy on you though."

We spend the rest of the afternoon in his studio, him painting away and me
watching. Sometimes we talk about random things, but mostly the air is silent.

It's comfortable.

It's friendly.

And it's a lot like old times.