Chapter 5

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Chapter 5

Edward sighed and shifted uncomfortably in his chair while his wife looked intently at him. Like on the plane when Seth had stared at him, as if he was being evaluated and measured for some unknown reason, the experience was less than enjoyable. But he endured, because he owed it to his wife to do so. For every tear, for every doubt, for every icy glare and cold shoulder he'd ever given her over the course of their marriage thus far, he owed her a hundred times over.

Even then, he would never be able to make up for the time he'd lost with her.

He lowered his eyes and took a few deep breaths and tried, as best he could, to keep from falling apart at the words Isabella had just uttered.

"Edward, look at me," his wife implored him and in a moment of complete and total trust, held her hand out for him to take.

Without any hesitation at all, he reached for her hand and wrapped his around hers and gave her a very grateful smile.

"Do you want to talk about what has happened over the past few days to make you behave as you have since you've gotten home? Not that I mind, just so you know, the afternoon…um, activities were a most unexpected, but pleasant surprise," she told him and then blushed when Edward's eyes darkened at the images that immediately filled his mind.

"You're so beautiful, but especially so when you blush like that, Isabella," Edward said as he lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a soft kiss across her knuckles.

"Edward," she said with a mixture of pleasure and frustration.

Her husband was the most maddening man, even though he could sweep her of her feet with no effort at all.

"What? Can I not compliment my wife?" he asked with a self-satisfied smirk.

Reaching the end of her seemingly limitless patience, she pulled her hand back and looked at him, eyes furious.

"Edward Cullen, don't you dare try to dazzle me! If you don't want to tell me what is going on with you, fine, don't tell me. It's not like it would be any different than the past five years anyway. But, you asked me a serious question and I was going to answer you. I had hoped you would do the same for me. If you have no intention of listening or talking, then just let me know right now so we can eat, fuck, and then sleep in separate rooms, like we do every damn night anyway!" Isabella said, her temper threatening to take over and make her say something she would really regret.

Oh, there was much she wanted to say to her stunned husband right at the moment, she thought angrily as she began serving the mushroom ravioli. Insufferable ass was the chant currently racing through her mind followed closely with arrogant bastard and both were rather apt descriptions at the moment. How dare he, how fucking dare he, after all she'd been through and after all the time she'd spent trying to get him to this moment, how dare he carelessly discount the serious discussion they were having!

"'Can I not compliment my wife?' my ass," she muttered, loud enough for Edward to hear. "Ha!" she exclaimed heatedly and then turned an icy glare of her own on her husband before handing him his plate of food.

"Damn it!" she muttered in extreme annoyance when she realized she'd forgotten the freshly-grated Parmesan cheese inside.

Edward watched, totally dumbfounded as his wife stomped from the deck into the house, her arms flailing about as she continued to mutter to herself. His wife just said the word fuck. He'd never heard that word come out of her mouth…ever. And the fact that she said it in terms of their lovemaking left him shell-shocked. Finding out about his impending death, being in an almost plane crash, the introduction of an angel into his life all paled in comparison to the despair he felt right at the moment that she would believe he felt that way about her.

"What the hell just happened?" Edward said as he ran a hand through his hair and took a drink of his wine. The wine, supposedly delicious because he only bought the best of the best, was bitter and left a horrible taste in his mouth.

"Edward, my boy, you really are the dumbest bastard on the planet," Seth said when he suddenly appeared in the chair just vacated by his wife.

"Excuse me?" he asked, clearly not understanding.

The angel laughed heartily, shaking the ground and the table with the sound and then looked at Edward. "Would you like me to enlighten you on why your lovely Isabella just turned into an Italian spitfire in the blink of an eye? You are obviously completely clueless when it comes to your wife."

"If you think you know then by all means enlighten me, oh angelic one," he sneered petulantly.

While he didn't understand why Isabella was upset, it was obvious she was. He could faintly hear the sounds of her slamming things in the kitchen coupled with her obvious string of colorful Italian words. He didn't know what she was saying, but there was no doubting the tone or whom they were directed toward.

"Edward, really, my young friend. You seriously don't know what you did just then?" Seth asked incredulously, shaking his head. When Edward still looked blankly at him, Seth began. "Edward, think back to the conversation you were just having with Isabella. You asked if she hated you, which I must admit, took a lot of guts to ask and she answered you, honestly, after giving the question a good amount of thought. When she realized what her answer made you feel, without even a hint of hesitation, she gave you her hand to hold onto so that she could touch you, and more importantly, you her, while she explained her answer. And what did you do? Completely disregarded that and thought with the little head instead of the big one! I understand, Edward," the angel said indulgently, "that your emotions are all over the place right now. You've learned a lot of hard truths about yourself and your life. You are seeing your wife through new eyes and in a new light, but the way you just casually threw a discussion that she has been waiting a long time to have with you to the side, is almost unforgivable," Seth finished with a sad shake of his head. Seth understood, he really did, how hard and difficult all these new revelations had to have been for his assignment, but Edward needed to understand, fully, the ramifications his past actions had wrought.

"Fuck…Jesus, I'm an idiot," Edward groaned as he bent his head forward and banged it on the edge of the table.

"Well, I'm not Jesus, but I have to agree with you," the annoying angel person said with a guffaw.

"What the hell do I do now? I keep screwing up with her every damn time I turn around. At this rate, I'll be dead before I make any progress with Isabella at all," Edward said offhandedly, and then realized the truth of his words.

He paled instantly and his face belied the fear he felt at the words he'd just spoken. He wanted to mend his relationship with Isabella; he wanted it more than anything. Even more than the assurance that he would live a long and happy life.

Seth sighed, though it sounded more like the wind during a thunderstorm. "Edward, enough. Stop with the self-pitying bullshit and get your act together. Apologize to your wife when she comes back out here. Beg, on your knees if you have to, for another chance to talk with her and for cripe's sake, listen to the woman. You owe her this, you owe her your honesty and you owe her the respect to listen to what she has to tell you. You're not going to like it all, but you got yourself into this mess, so it's no less than what you deserve. Time to face the demons that have come home to roost, my young friend. If you're lucky, she'll just let you have it in English. I'm not sure you're ready to face the wrath of Isabella when she's in full Italian spitfire mode." Seth chuckled with a rumbling laugh.

"She's magnificent," Edward breathed out as he caught a glimpse of her as she walked to the stereo to change the music.

Gone were the soothing sounds of Coldplay from before and in its place was Evanescence. Fucking hell, angry chick music...great.

"Shit," he groaned when the music began to play. Yep, he'd really dug himself a hell of hole just now and it would be a miracle in and of itself if he managed to come through unscathed.

"Buck up, Eddie, you may enjoy a tongue lashing from your beautiful bride. Think of it as foreplay," Seth said with a smirk then he was suddenly not there anymore.

"Damn know-it-all angel," Edward muttered and then sat up straight when Isabella slid in the seat across from him again.

Isabella had calmed down from her outburst from before. It was amazing the satisfaction one could garner from the slamming of drawers and the muttering of every curse word she knew in Italian. During her tirade she had come to the realization that Edward was new at all of this and he was making an effort. He might be a bit misguided, or a lot as the case was, and he was bound to make mistakes, but he was at the very least trying.

So, she told herself before walking back out to finish their dinner, she was going to have to be patient, even more so than before. She was also going to have to try to keep better control of her temper. Isabella was a tiny bit embarrassed at her outburst from earlier, not to mention the English curse words she'd used, but at the same time she was pleased that they were finally even attempting to have this discussion. Isabella knew intuitively that things were going to change between her and Edward once they took this first step. She couldn't help but feel slightly aggravated at his careless remark but she knew tempering her temper was imperative if they were to move forward.

"Would you like cheese for your pasta?" she asked Edward in a voice that was still laced with lingering frustration and hurt, but one that was much gentler than before.

Edward was most grateful for the slight reprieve and took the olive branch she offered. "Yes, please," he answered his wife gently and gave her a sincere smile when she looked at him.

"I'm sorry for upsetting you," he began tentatively when he took his first bite of his dinner.

The exquisite tastes exploded in his mouth and he groaned appreciatively, causing Isabella to smile at him in return.

Small steps, she reminded herself as she ate slowly, watching her husband enjoy his meal. Isabella had no doubt the apology he just gave her was sincere and it was the first small step toward a new beginning for the two of them.

After they ate for a few minutes, Edward took a sip of his wine and then looked at his wife. "Isabella, if it's okay with you, I'd like to continue our conversation from earlier," he said with trepidation.

Isabella heard the anxiousness that eked out and said, "Edward, I'd really like to continue as well, but if you aren't ready, I'd understand." It was a gracious offer, but there was no doubt she'd like to get some answers.

Edward grinned sheepishly and then rolled his eyes at his wife. "I do believe you've waited more than long enough, don't you?"

Isabella couldn't help but nod her head in agreement and they both sat back in their chairs after he refilled their glasses.

"Now, if I'm not mistaken, wife of mine, I believe you were going to inform me, gently I hope, why you dislike me so and I in turn will tell you about my trip," Edward said endearingly.

Isabella hung her head and closed her eyes. Yes, she wanted to have this talk with him, had wanted it for a long time now, but telling the man you loved more than life itself you didn't particularly like the person he was, wasn't really something she was looking forward to.

"Hey," he told her as he lifted her chin with his fingers. "Isabella, it's okay. I've been a damn idiot for a long time now, but I'm not stupid. I'll admit that hearing you don't like me very much isn't my favorite thing I've ever heard come from your beautiful lips, but I deserve whatever you have to say to me."

"Oh, Edward," Isabella said softly as she looked at her husband. His face was relaxed and his eyes sparkled and he looked completely ready for whatever she had to say to him.

"Love, really," Edward motioned with his wineglass, "go ahead. Just try to be gentle, or as gentle as your Italian temper will allow you to be," he said disarmingly.

"I'm sorry about earlier, too, Edward," she began, looking for a starting point.

He chuckled at her and then flashed a drop dead sexy grin. "Well, I'm sure we would both agree I deserved that wholeheartedly. I also must say, wife of mine, it was incredibly sexy to see you get so worked up. Next time, however, I think I'd much rather see about getting you worked up in bed."

Isabella rolled her eyes at his blatant flirting, but she couldn't deny the tingles she felt between her legs at the sexual innuendo.

"Isabella, you're stalling," Edward prodded and she took a deep breath and dug in.

"Edward, I'm sorry if what I said before hurt you, but you asked and I felt it was only fair to be honest with you," Isabella said quietly. She looked at her husband and said just as softly, "You haven't been the easiest of people to live with and you've tried, and done a damn good job, too, of keeping your distance from me. You spend your time hiding away at the office downtown or here at home in the study. If we are in the same room for any length of time, you get agitated and then run away. Hell, Edward, we haven't shared the same bed for over a year," Isabella said and took a drink of her wine, carefully watching her husband. Noting that though he looked distressed at her words, he was still sitting and waiting patiently, so she decided to go on. After all, this might be her only chance to say what was on her mind and she was not about to let the opportunity pass her by.

"I've seen glimpses of the person I believe you to be, Edward. During our engagement and honeymoon and at times since we returned from Italy, your walls have fallen and I see the man I fell in love with, the man I pledged myself to, and the man I hope you allow yourself to become. I know there are things that haunt you from your past, Edward, things I'm sure you've never shared with anyone. Whatever those things are weigh heavily on you and make you hesitant to trust people and even more hesitant to allow yourself to get close to them. It has also made you cold and distant and more often than not, unnecessarily cruel as well," Isabella finished.

"All of that and yet you don't despise me?" Edward asked sadly. "All of that and you still allow me to make love to you, to take you as I did this afternoon?"

"When we are making love, Edward, you are a different man. You become tender and gentle. You hold me and kiss me and make me feel loved and worshiped. Sometimes that feeling even lasts as much as a day or two afterward. You allow me to love you the way I want to; allow me to lay in bed with you. There are times you even kiss me before you leave for work or grace me with a special smile. Those are the moments that make even the most difficult of days worth it, Edward," she said.

Her words cut him to the core, completely ripped his heart out and obliterated it into unrecognizable pieces. She didn't yell, she didn't cry or get hysterical. Instead she spoke in a voice so sweet and tender that Edward wasn't sure he would ever be worthy of her, even if he had a multitude of lifetimes to try to be. That she only felt loved and worshiped when they made love devastated Edward. The fact that she took pleasure in something as small as a kiss goodbye or a smile made him feel like the world's biggest piece of shit.

"My God, what you must think of me," Edward choked out, the words barely able to leave his mouth. "Why haven't you ever said anything?" he asked. There is no way anyone should be subjected to the emotionless environment Isabella found herself in day in and day out, yet she was still here, still hopeful and still willing to give him a chance.

"I never said anything, Edward, because you never asked. If I would have approached you with any of this, without you asking, you would have run a hundred miles in the other direction. I imagine if I would have told you this before you were ready, as it appears you are, to listen, hell, it could have been weeks, months, before I saw you again." Isabella chuckled at that, though it was a mirthless one.

Edward at least had the ability to acknowledge the truth of her words. If he wouldn't have been forced to re-examine his life there is no way in hell he ever would have been able to handle the admissions Isabella was offering him right now.

Utterly pathetic…he muttered angrily to himself. Five fucking years he'd wasted, hiding from the glorious woman across from him. She loved him, faults and all and holy hell there were plenty of those. Even though she'd been emotionally neglected for years, she'd never stopped loving him and just as importantly, she'd never stopped believing in him, either.

That thought took his breath away and gave him hope. Hope that he could fix their marriage but also hope that she would help him fix all the other areas of his life as well.

"You really don't despise me?" Edward asked again, praying that she still gave the same answer.

Isabella looked at him warmly and reached across the table to take his hand in hers once more. "No, Edward, I don't. I love you and adore you, probably more today than I did the first time I told you that, more than the day I became yours in every way possible, and more than every day since. Loving you has never been the problem. I pray for you every day, pray that you see the man I see. I pray that one day you'll let me in and trust me with your secrets. I hope that you'll share your pain with me because it's obviously too great for you to carry alone. I hope that you allow yourself to be happy, because I think you deserve it, even if you don't believe it. I hope and I pray that one day you'll love me the way I love you," she finished the last part barely louder than a whisper.

The words might as well have been yelled through a bullhorn they reverberated so loudly inside Edward's brain.

"Isabella, I…" he began but was cut off by his wife who stood and then leaned across the table and placed her soft fingers over his lips.

"Edward, don't. Don't say the words because you think you owe them to me. Don't say them in response to what I've told you. You're not ready to say them yet, I know that. I gave my heart to you the moment I laid my eyes on you and it belongs only to you. Yours is still buried deep beneath iron fortified walls. Until you are ready to give me your heart, I don't want the words. They go hand and hand. I'm a patient woman, Edward Cullen. When you're ready, I'll be here," she whispered and leaned her head down and her lips took the place of her fingers and she kissed him softly.

"Now before it's your turn on the hot seat, how about some mint chocolate chip ice cream for dessert? I know it's your favorite and I bought some especially for you, my handsome husband," she said with a wink and picked up the pasta and their dishes and carried them inside.

"That went surprisingly well, I must admit," Seth said, appearing the instant Isabella entered the house. He was dressed in khaki dress pants and a navy blue button-down and had a different pair of Italian leather shoes on his feet, loafers this time.

"Easy for you to say," Edward grumped with a huff and then ran his hands through his hair. "Damn, I feel like I've just been punched in the stomach by Emmett."

"I have to say, Edward Anthony, you handled that much better than I thought you would," the angel said, somewhat grudgingly Edward noticed.

"You knew she was going to say all that?" he demanded.

Seth shrugged his shoulders and waved his hand dismissively. "Edward, my boy, you do understand that I have been privy to the lovely Isabella's pleas, at least as they pertain to you, do you not? Of course I knew she was going to say all that. In fact, there is more, but that is for her to tell you, not I. Your job," the annoyingly bossy angel said in a stern voice, "is to allow her this time to express her feelings. Isabella has many years' worth of frustration and heartache built up, mostly, if not all, due to you and your actions. The least you can do is allow her to speak her mind."

"Damn," Edward muttered under his breath.

Not that he didn't know the damn angel was right, but Edward was rather hoping for a repeat of this afternoon's activities. The kiss she'd given him just moments ago stoked an already smoldering fire, especially when he noticed she didn't have a bra on, which led him to believe her panties were also absent. He knew the timing was all wrong, but he was a man for fuck's sake and he was being tempted by the world's most alluring woman, at least in his mind anyway.

"She's going to think I'm stark raving mad if I tell her what happened to me on that plane," Edward moaned pitifully.

"I'm not sure I'd be that specific with her, Eddie." Seth laughed. "Isabella is definitely a believer in our kind, but I'm not one hundred percent positive that she won't call the men with the white coats to come drag your ass off to a padded cell if you tell her everything. Your track record in dealing with all things heavenly is not the best by any stretch of the imagination."

"You got that right," Edward said, feeling suddenly very guilty for his reticent attitude toward going to Mass.

The music changed again and Edward smiled at the sounds of Dave Matthews floating from the speakers. At least her mood had changed, he thought to himself and when he went to say something to Seth, the angel had already taken his leave.

Isabella grinned adorably at Edward as she handed him the extra big bowl of his favorite ice cream and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "For you, husband of mine, I think you're going to need it," she said sassily as she sat in the chair across from him. She pulled her leg up and placed it on the seat of the chair and began eating her own dessert.

Edward watched his wife enjoy her ice cream, totally mesmerized by the way her tiny pink tongue would dart in and out of her mouth, how she would lick her lips, and how the cold made her nipples harden. Damn he wanted her again, maddeningly so. But the words of the irritatingly always correct angel kept him from acting on his desire, no matter how desperate he was to touch, feel, taste, and kiss her again. Isabella deserved to be adored and cherished and not just while they were having sex. It was a wrong he vowed to himself to make right.

After he tore his gaze away from Isabella, Edward dug into his own dish of ice cream and he marveled, yet again, at her ability to know his likes and dislikes so well, to know him so well even though he'd unknowingly kept her at a distance. He shook his head and grinned at his adorable wife as she hummed to the music playing and shook her head, causing her hair to sway back and forth.

Isabella looked up and caught her husband staring at her unabashedly, his green eyes glinting mischievously in the candlelight. "Thank you for the extra helping of ice cream," Edward said, giving himself and internal fist bump for making that delicious blush appear on her face again.

"A treat for you, my husband, for spending the evening with me," she said with a smirk of her own.

"Do you think it's possible we'll be friends as well as lovers someday, Isabella?" Edward asked, surprising even himself with the question.

Isabella gasped and though she wanted to ask what prompted him to ask such an extraordinary question, she refrained and answered simply but with complete honesty. "I would like that very much, Edward."

He wanted to tell her so much, beginning with the fact that with the exception of Jasper Whitlock, he had never had a true friend. He wanted to tell her how grateful he was that she was willing to sit and eat ice cream with him in the moonlight as if it were an everyday occurrence instead of something that happened only rarely. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, that he loved her the very first time he set eyes on her but had been too afraid to let himself get close to her. Instead, he said, "I would like that very much, too."

He knew things were different now. He knew there was no going back to the way things were when he woke up this morning. He knew he wanted to be able to enjoy nights like this every night.

"Well, Edward," Isabella said with a knowing smile. "In the spirit of our newfound friendship, why don't you tell me what the hell is going on with you? And don't you dare tell me nothing, Edward Anthony Cullen, we may be new at this whole friendship thing, but I know you a whole lot better than you think I do."

He put his bowl down on the table, after finishing every bit of the delicious ice cream and took a deep breath before he looked at his wife. "I'm not sure what to tell you, Isabella. I realized I've been a miserable son of a bitch for most of my life and have behaved abominably toward just about everyone. Especially to you," he said, truly ashamed of his past actions toward her.

He looked at her and was shocked when he saw her staring back at him with her eyebrows raised. "Come on now, Edward, there has to be more to it than that," she said encouragingly as she took another sip of her wine.

"It was a really rough and scary flight home, Isabella," he said softly, but with much feeling.

Isabella immediately got a strange feeling and it made her shiver. She remembered her feelings of unease earlier in the day when she felt anxious about his flight coupled with the severe storms she knew he'd flown through. She was intuitive enough to realize there was much her husband was not saying, but it was a good enough start for now.

They'd made tremendous progress during the evening and she could feel the shift in their relationship as if it were a tangible thing. There was still a long way to go but the road ahead of her didn't seem as daunting as it once did. Things were still precarious and she had no doubt that Edward would try to hide from her again at some point. He had a lot of years of practice doing just that and scary plane flight or not, she knew the walls would return. She only hoped that since she'd breached them once, the second time would be easier.

By silent agreement, Edward and Isabella rose and gathered the remaining things from the table and made their way into the kitchen.

Edward watched Isabella efficiently wrap the leftovers and place them in the refrigerator and then put their ice cream bowls and wine glasses into the dishwasher. She wiped down the counters and made sure everything was back in its place. It quite amazed him the sense of completeness he got from watching his wife perform such a trivial thing like loading a dishwasher.

For the first time since the appearance of the angelic presence on what should have been a routine airplane ride, Edward truly saw what was happening to him as the gift Seth said it was. To be able to have this time, however long it turned out to be, to love his wife, to worship her, to become worthy of her was more than he truly should be allowed. If Edward Anthony Cullen was one thing, it was that he was a shrewd businessman, who had learned long ago to never let a golden opportunity pass you by. While he might never understand why he was granted the chance to make amends to his family, friends, and colleagues or why he was given the privilege to become the husband his beautiful wife deserved, he was going to take it and run with it.

So it was with that thought, Edward reached for his wife, holding her against him as he had wanted to do since the moment she left his arms hours ago and he asked, "Isabella, would stay with me tonight?"

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