Southern Comfort: Chapter 8

Southern Comfort

Chapter Eight

The silence... is deafening.

I feel a shard of my tea cup dig into the pad of my thumb, but I'm unable to relax my hands. I stare down at my beautifully painted toes and try not to think about the fact that I'd borrowed the color from Jessica. She loaned me her nail polish and I've loaned her my entire heart. I'm twenty-eight years old, but I feel like a fourteen year old being crushed by her first crush.

Edward by no means is my first crush. I've had boyfriends and a lover or two in my past, but that was before I met him. Unknowingly, Edward managed to ruin any other man for me. And I knowingly destroyed everything.

Blood slowly pools into my hand from the cut on my thumb, but I'm still stiff as a board. My mind begins to race in an effort to find a way that we can come out of this with our friendship intact, but as the minutes tick by, I know it's not possible.

I've been too dramatic and he's been too quiet.

I'm out of tears, but it doesn't keep me from hiccupping and sniffling away.

"I think you should go," I say when I'm finally able to find my voice.

The sound causes him to jump because we've been sitting in silence for so long.

"Bella..." He takes a step towards me with his hand outstretched, but I take a step backwards.

"I think we both need some time, Edward. Please."

He sighs and leaves the room.

I wrap my arms around my torso as if that will hold me together. I listen to him stomp into his boots and grab his jacket. The door opens and a small whimper escapes my mouth. The door closes softly as it returns.

The sobbing, the ever present tears… and the pain... the pain is so intense I wonder if I've inherited my father's bad heart. It feels like it's cracking, straight down the middle. As I fall to the floor of my kitchen, I catch a glimpse of the tattoo on the inside of my wrist. I remember the calm words he whispered in my ear while the artist finished, the way he ran his thumb over my puckered brow like clockwork in an effort to calm me.

Less than a minute later I hear something rustling around my living room. There's a stray cat that hangs out outside my door on random nights and she's manage to break into the house a few times in the past couple of months. I enter the living room ready to fend off a feral feline, but stop short when I realize I'm not alone.

Edward never left.

He's standing next to my stereo in his boots and heavy wool jacket. His head is bowed, but I know he knows I'm here because his thumb and forefinger begin rubbing together the instant I step into his vicinity.

"I understand why you didn't tell me," he says almost so quietly that I don't hear him.

I look down at my hands. "I don't regret keeping it from you, Edward," I explain. "The past seven years have been wonderful. Had I told you back then, we wouldn't be standing here right now."

His head raises and he looks at me intently. "Had you told me all those years ago... you're right we wouldn't be standing here."

My breath hitches.

"Had I been able to man up and tell you the way I felt, we wouldn't be here. We'd be living our lives together." He reaches out for me. I let him pull me towards him until we're almost touching. "The moment I saw you sitting in that shitty ass bar, I knew I wanted you. From the first words we spoke to each other, I knew I wanted to spend every moment of forever showing you that I loved you."

I'm confused.

Is he really confessing this?

"It's true, Bells." He leans down to my ear. "I love you. I'm in love with you. And I'm so sorry I wasn't enough of a man to do you right."

Our eyes meet. I'm trying to decipher him, and I'm elated when I see that his are full of genuine emotion and love. He reaches out and caresses my cheek in his warm hand.

I don't think I've taken a breath since I saw him standing in my living room.

We're flush against each other. He pulls my chin up again and leans his head towards mine. "Lord, I've been wantin' to do this for years."

And he presses his lips onto mine with so much love and passion that my knees buckle. But it's okay because he knows. His arm wraps around my waist and he holds me to him. Our sweet and innocent kiss is short lived. Seven years of repressed passion ignites a fire that Smoky the Bear couldn't prevent. Tongues tangle together as our teeth clash and I finally catch up.

I got my Edward. And I'll be damned if I ever let him go.