Chapter Fourteen

~Bella's Story~

"Talk to me, Bella. Where is everyone?"

She follows my movement to the bed, making eye contact with me at the sound of my question and then looks away; staring out her door to the deck and the ocean beyond. 

"They're dead, Edward. They're all dead."

EPOV

I hear her. I know I'm hearing her…but…how…when…wha—?

"I don't have any family left. Didyme was my great aunt on my father's side and when she died in April, that's all she wrote. I've got no one now."

"But Bella, I…I…," I pause, completely flabbergasted and stumped…how is all of her family dead and gone?

"They died in a car accident." She answers, almost anticipating what I'm thinking. "I was an only child. Am an only child? I don't even know how to label it correctly. Can you be an orphan at 22 years old?" She turns to look at me, running her fingers back and forth across her forehead.

My mouth is opening and closing, over and over again, wordlessly. I'm pretty sure I look insane.

"Well… anyway, whatever I am, I'm all alone."

"Bella," I stop again, still not having a clue on how to continue this conversation. "I—… I'm so sorry you lost your parents. I'm— I'm sorry for not knowing sooner."

"You don't need to apologize. How would you know? It's not the best conversation starter, 'Hi, I'm Bella. I've got no family to speak of since they were killed in a car accident the night of my wedding, and you are?'"

My eyeballs triple in size. She looks at me quizzically.

"See what I mean? You're stumped and you've been speaking to me for, like, three weeks now. Well, not really; you've actually avoided me like I'm a leper, but whatever. You get what I'm saying." She shrugs, shaking her head as she turns back toward the door.

"Bella. You meant on the night of your wedding to…"

"Alec King."

God, I hate that name.

"Right, Alec King. You're saying that your parents were killed in a car accident?"

Bella widens her eyes and raises her eyebrows to accentuate the news she's about to deliver.

"Oh, not just my parents, my new husband, too." She says matter-of-factly as if she'd just told me her shoe size.

"Wait…whe…where were you? You weren't with them?"

"Oh, I was with them, apparently. At least, I've been told I was with them," she shrugs again.

"You've been told. You mean you don't remember?"

She lets out a frustrated sigh and buries her head in her hands. Her fingers start to dig in her eyes and when she looks up, her mascara has smudged over the upper half of her face. Between the splotchy, tear-stained skin and the now smeared make-up, Bella looks like she's just gone nine rounds with Mike Tyson.

"No, Edward. I don't remember it. I don't remember any of it. Not only do I not remember the accident, but I don't even remember meeting Alec. I don't remember dating Alec. I don't remember when he proposed or where we were or what he said, or if I cried or anything. I don't remember planning my wedding with my parents…," she starts gasping intermittently, fresh tears streaming again. "I don't re—remember my Dad walking me down the aisle. I don't remember dancing at my reception and I don't remember when my world…we— went black and altered my life forever."

At this point, she's sobbing with her chin tapping on her chest. Her shoulders are shaking and her body gives in to the sorrow that engulfs and overwhelms her.

I raise my right hand, very tentatively, and put it on her left shoulder. I start rubbing her there and then move to the middle of her back, swiping slowly from shoulder blade to shoulder blade.

In slow motion, she tips her body toward me and plants herself into the side of my chest. I freeze, but only for a second. This girl just needs a warm body to be here for her. I'm that warm body. It could be anybody. I'm not reading anything into this. I'm not allowing my imagination to run away with itself…I'm simply going to be here…for her.

Minutes pass. After her heaving sobs subside, she sits up again, but doesn't raise her head to look at me.

I need more information. I need to hear her story. I think about how I've evaded her all week long. What a dick move that was! She needs as many friends as she can find and all I did was blow her off and second guess everything she said and did!

Who does that? 

Suddenly, the most awful thought pops unbidden in my mind.

What would I ever do if I lost Mom, Dad, James and Tori? All at the same fucking time?
I feel my heart start racing. I bend forward, putting my head between my knees as I start ripping my hands through my hair, trying to erase all the shitty things I thought about her for the last few weeks. Good God. The horrible things I've accused her of in my mind.
What can I say to her? Do for her to make up for all the crap that's been running through my head?

No.

Stop.

I can berate myself for being a selfish prick all I want after I've left. For now, I need to get my shit together, pull my head outta my ass and start acting like a decent guy. Be a fucking shoulder to lean on. What happened years ago doesn't matter right now. She's all alone.

It's time to step up.

I look at her after a minute and realize that she's staring at me. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out. Are you alright?" She whispers.

"Yeah. I'm okay. I just…I just really wasn't expecting you to say that about your family. It's a little shocking."

"Well, listen, I'm truly sorry I unloaded on you. I think I heard you say you're taking off now?" She stands up and turns toward the door to the hallway.

"What? Bella, no! I'm here now. I could never just walk out after hearing what you told me. I…I know I haven't been decent to you, and I'm sorry about that. But I'd like to hear your story. I know you told me last week that you wanted to talk. If you can talk about it now, I'm more than willing to stay and listen."

She looks a little surprised by my confession, but a slight smile comes across her face and she nods.

"Do you mind if we sit out on the deck?" She requests, hopefully. "I could use the fresh air."
"No, let's do it. I could use some fresh air, myself."

I follow her out the sliding doors and we take a seat at the two deck chairs in the corner. The motion lights flick on as soon as we make our way outside, but she turns back to the house and flips the switch off. It's better that way anyway, neither of us wants to deal with night-flying bugs swarming the floodlights.

I sigh and follow her closely with my eyes while she sits down.

"So, I guess I should start by letting you know that this story is all second-hand information. My aunt told me everything she knew, and the police reports from the limo driver and witnesses filled in the rest of the blanks. Like I said, I don't remember anything that happened…but… I'll get to that part later."

My eyes meet hers and I nod in silence.

The Gold Ballroom at the Hotel du Pont

"The accident happened on the night of my wedding, December 24, 2007. Aunt Didi told me the ceremony and reception were held in Wilmington, Delaware at the Hotel du Pont. She showed me the pictures; it was stunning…so extravagant. Seemed a little over the top, I suppose," she adds with a shrug, "But if I remember my Dad's personality correctly, he must have said, 'Nothing's too good for my little girl' and just wrote the check," she chuckles softly.
I gave her a half smile and a nod. One thing I remember about Charles Swan; he was over-the-moon for his Bella. Her quote was right on the money; in fact, I'd heard him utter those precise words on many occasions over the years.

"As the evening ended, Didi said that, though the guests were staying at the hotel that night, my parents, Alec and I were going back to our home. It seems that Alec had some surprise for me waiting there. Spending your wedding night with your parents sounds a little odd to me, but apparently, I had my own suite on the property and that's where we would've…you know…"

She trails off and thank God she does; I don't know that I could stomach her detailing the planned wedding night festivities for me.

"We climbed into my parents' limo and headed home. It had snowed on the 23rd and into the 24th, but most of the accumulation had melted. Problem was, once nightfall hit, the temperatures plummeted again and any moisture that was left behind turned to ice.

"Our driver lost control on a sheet of black ice; we were swerving left and right. The driver, who admitted he was speeding at about 75 mph, told the police that the brakes apparently failed. And because we were traveling at such a high speed, when we hit the wall next to the breakdown lane, we ping-ponged clear across the four lanes and careened into the guard rail on our left. Between the high speed and the abrupt, sudden motions of the large car, the center guardrail served as a springboard as the limo flipped over itself several times, until it slammed into the 95 South breakdown lane's wall.

She's recounting the story to me as if it happened to somebody else. She's had so much time to process it, that she tells it as if it's a bedtime story she's memorized. My stomach is in knots for what her world must be like right now.

"I'd apparently been the only one wearing a seatbelt. I'm sure my parents and Alec were tossed around like rag dolls."

I shake my head to free it from the awful images conjured up by her last statement. I can't begin to imagine her pain and loss.

"The coroner's report said that Alec and my mother were killed on the spot. Alec's upper body had been pinned between the seat and the roof of the car; multiple broken ribs actually punctured his lungs and aorta. My mom's skull was crushed, resulting in massive head trauma. My Dad had multiple internal injuries, as well as two broken legs. Reports said he was still alive when he arrived at the hospital. There was severe internal bleeding, though. Even though they got him into surgery that night, the injuries were too extensive and irreparable. He died on the table in the O.R."

"Somehow, I came away with only a fractured arm and numerous lacerations from all the broken glass. But because of the blunt force trauma to my head, I was unconscious and slipped into a coma several hours after the accident."

I lean forward in the deck chair with my hands clasped in front of my mouth and my eyes squeezed shut 'till I'm seeing flashing white specks. I can't begin to fathom the horror of what that car wreck must've looked like. I realize that I'm thankful that Bella's head injury caused her to be completely unaware of the chaos and hysteria that unfolded at the scene.**
My head is shaking back and forth because I just can't comprehend this level of devastation. To have gone through such a horrific ordeal? To lose the people you're closest to in the span of a few hours? To not even realize it happened because your body shuts down and doesn't wake you up for—

"Eighty-eight days. I was in a coma for eighty-eight days. Twelve weeks and four days, if you're trying to do the math in your head. I woke up on March 21, 2008. My parents were dead. My husband, whom I didn't even remember having, was dead. The only family member left to care for me was Aunt Didi."

Bella's been doing all the talking up until now and I feel like I've gathered enough intelligent thoughts to try and participate in the discussion. "But, whatever happened to Alec's parents? Weren't they worried about you? Didn't they come around to check on you? Didn't the hospital contact them when you woke up?" Where the hell were these people? I felt my anger brewing inside.

"I really don't know what went on. From what I was told, the accident devastated the Kings. Alec was their only child. They went back up to New York City after he died and had his funeral services up there. I was told that Gianna, my mother-in-law for all intents and purposes, was so overwhelmed with grief that she fatally overdosed on a bottle of Valium on what would have been Alec's 23rd birthday, the 12th of February. Aunt Didi never told me any of that stuff, though. Rosalie had looked into their whereabouts for me months after I woke up. Apparently, Didi thought the Kings should've been more attentive to me, since I was, in fact, their daughter-in-law and still alive. I guess they couldn't handle all the desolation and just had to let me go."

Jesus. This sounds like a fucking Academy Award-winning movie plot.

"Okay. I understand their being consumed with sadness after the accident. But after you woke up and recovered, didn't you have any desire to reconnect with them…well, with him, Royce, I mean?" I hedge, still disgusted by that man's existence, after what he tried to do to Bella all those years ago, but I'm trying my hand at compassion for a brief moment.

"I didn't remember him, Edward. I didn't remember any of it. My head injury left me in a comatose state and when I woke up, I was diagnosed with amnesia."

Say what, now?

"It's a specific kind, called retrograde amnesia. Basically, it means that I can't remember a portion of my life prior to the accident, but I still have the ability to retrieve some long-term memories…like from when I was a kid. That's how I can remember my dad and my mom and even Aunt Didi, but it seems that the years leading up to the accident have been erased from my mind.

"So that brings me to you. I'm assuming that you knew me directly prior to my accident, which explains why you recognized me, but I can't remember you. And I'm sorry that I can't remember. I didn't mean to insult you. I just needed you to know that there's a chunk of time that I can't recall, no matter how hard I try.

"When my parents were killed, Aunt Didi contracted with a law firm to expedite the sale of our home, you know, my parents' home. The personal items were boxed up and shipped down here. The furniture, artwork, knick-knacks, clothes and other things were all donated to charities in need. My aunt held onto my parents' wedding rings, my father's Rolex and some other pieces from my mom's jewelry collection so that I could have them when I woke up. She told me there are boxes of pictures and photo albums stored here. Most likely in the basement; I haven't even gotten a chance to take a look. I'm hoping that once I go through some of those pictures, maybe I'll be able to put a few more pieces of the puzzle back in place.

"So, what did the doctors tell you about your condition? Will it ever improve? Will you ever fully regain your memories?"

She takes another deep breath and starts again. "They said each case is unique. Sometimes people have a spontaneous recovery and everything comes back to them. For others, maybe some flashbacks come to light, some answers reveal themselves, but nothing is ever completely recovered. And then there are those who don't ever retrieve their memories, they're lost forever and have to start over with what they do know. Problem for me is that I have nobody to help me start over.

Bella lets her head fall again and she slips her sandals off her feet. A few seconds later, she snaps her head up and questions me.

"You perked up earlier when I mentioned the names Jasper and Alice, do you know them?" She asks with a lighter tone, as if we haven't just been rehashing the gruesome deaths of her closest family members.

"Yeah, absolutely. Jazz is my best friend, we were roommates at Penn. He married Alice before we graduated. I was his best man, and their little guy Tristan is my Godson."
Bella raises her arm as if the light bulb just went on. "Oh my God, that's right! Rose said that the owner of the catering company was Jasper's former roommate. I can't believe I didn't put two and two together until just now. Wow, small world.

"Well… anyway, Jasper was the emergency room doc on duty that Christmas Eve. Apparently he treated me and my father. Being in the E.R. was just a residency rotation, but he never let go of my case. He was always checking in on me. Aunt Didi trusted him so much that she listed him as an emergency contact for me if anything happened and she wasn't able to be there.

"So he was there with me as I came out of my coma. He consulted with the doctors in charge of my case in the intensive care unit. Then, once I was ready to eat on my own and attempt to get moving again, they called in all of the specialists; speech pathologists, physical therapists, occupational therapists; an interdisciplinary team of experts who would help get me back on track. That's how I met Emmett, Rosalie's husband. He was my PT. He helped me walk again. He was the head of my team. He dubbed it the dawning of Bella 2.0," she offers with a shy smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

"So, for a full year in-patient and another eight months as an outpatient, I spent thousands of hours learning how to walk again, chew and swallow my food safely, and exercising my brain in order to regain as many memories as possible.

I give her a half-smile and nod to let her know I'm still listening to her. Hell, to let her know how amazed I am by what she's sharing with me about her therapy and recovery. It sounds like she fought like hell to regain all that she lost as a result of her catastrophic injuries.

"Anyway, it was a long road to recovery. As you can see, I've regained all the skills I lost, with the exception of my memories. The last memory I have is my eighth grade graduation and formal dance. I had broken my arm about two weeks before the dance and was devastated. It's actually one of the nicer memories I can associate with my mom. She felt bad for me and sewed a pair of elbow-length lace gloves to hide my cast and match the Gunne Sax dress my dad had bought me. God, I loved that dress. Pure white, strapless satin with a lace overlay from top to bottom. It made me feel like a princess. I pretended I was a bride wearing it. Too bad the next dress I played "bride" in ended up soaked in blood and had to be cut off my body." She shakes her head as she stands and leans over the balcony.

"So that's my story." She shrugs with a sigh. She looks over at me and I'm staring at her intently. We make eye contact and she gives me the slightest half smile, thanking me without words for listening to her tale.

"Three months later, Aunt Didi was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. She fought bravely. Endured chemo and radiation…but ultimately, she succumbed. It was peaceful. She slipped into a coma at the end. Ironic, right? She died eight weeks ago, today." I see her wipe a single tear from under her right eye.

I let out an enormous breath that I didn't even realize I was holding. I'm in awe that this girl even has the physical or emotional energy to climb out of bed every morning after the harrowing ordeal that started one night, her wedding night, and ended all these years later. And to top it all off, she continues to walk around with a huge black hole of darkness where her memories used to be. I just don't even know what to say to her.

"So anyway, I know that you said that you met my parents and me a while ago. Was that in the last four to eight years?" She questions.

I nod, expressionless.

She nods in return and turns back out to the vastness of the starry night sky sitting atop the dark ocean. I don't think she's ready to get into just how well I knew her. And to be perfectly honest? I'm not ready either. I need time to figure out what I'm going to say and how I'm going to say it. At this early point in my thinking, no matter what I say to her about our connection in the past, she'll be crushed. And I'm not prepared to do that to her. Not now, knowing how lonely she is and what she's been through.

"What time is it?" She says, glancing at her watch. "Holy crap. It's late and we have another full day of this tomorrow. I'm sorry I kept you here so long, but I really appreciate the fact that you stayed with me and heard me out. Can I walk you out?"

I nod and stand, still saying absolutely nothing. My mind is a total blank and with each passing second I feel like an even bigger dick than I was the minute prior.
As she turns to walk back into her bedroom, I reach out and grab her wrist. I hear her gasp and my heart rate increases. I can't let the night end like this. I have to give her something. Something even I've kept buried from myself since she waltzed back in my life. Even if it's just a minute slice of a memory. She deserves that much after the day she's had; hell, after the last four years she's had.

"Bella, listen… for what it's worth, I feel awful for the nightmare you've been through. I can only imagine what these last three and a half years have been like for you. Please, know that if and when you want to talk some more, I'll be here to listen. And if it can give you a little bit of peace… I can tell you that I remember you were an amazing dancer."

"What?" She laughs through her nose, totally confused by my revelation. I just want to make her smile. She deserves that much.

"At that party…I watched you dancing. You must've taken lessons at some point. But you danced with your dad, and you danced with friends. You looked like a professional. It was pretty fantastic to watch. The guests cleared the floor just to watch you. I don't know who your dancing partner was, but you looked like you were having a wonderful time. You had a huge smile on your face while he spun you around the floor of the ballroom. I bet if you look through some of those old photo albums you mentioned, you'd find a few of you dancing."

Her eyes have completely glossed over as tears pool in their corners.

Unexpectedly, she leaps forward and throws her arms around my neck.

My reflexes kick in and I wrap my arms around her in response. Her face is buried in my neck and I just hear her whispering, "Thank you, thank you, thank you," over and over. The feel of her body pressed to mine is unimaginable. She's not been here for years. I never thought I'd feel her in my arms again. I've missed it. Even after all the attitude, all the ugliness, all the exterior crap that existed between us…I know…deep down…that I've missed her.

I hear her sniff once more and she releases her hold on me, starting to back up as I drop my arms from her petite waist.

Once again, with a tear-streaked face, she whispers, "Thank you, Edward... so much."

I smile timidly, "You're welcome."

We walk in silence down the stairs and to the front door.

"I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"Yup. I'll be here. Thanks again for listening. And for sharing that memory. You'll never know how much I've needed just the slightest hint at what's been missing. I feel like a weight's been lifted after letting you know my story."

I half-smile thoughtfully, "Thanks for trusting me enough to tell me. I'm so sorry for your loss…losses. I just…I'm really sorry."

"I'm sorry I kept you here so late after the long day you've had…but I do appreciate you staying. I hope you get some decent rest tonight."

"I'll be okay, thanks. Will you be alright tonight?"

"Yeah. I'm completely spent. I think I'll be out as soon as my head hits the pillow."

I laugh through my nose, nodding in agreement. "Me, too."

"Goodnight." She smiles gently and I melt a little more.

"'Night."

This is so beyond anything I ever imagined. I am seriously entering Whiskey Tango Foxtrot territory. I need to sleep on this and think on this, before I even attempt to open my mouth to Bella about our history. Talking without thinking is only going to lead to disaster.

I'm walking a fine line. I've hated feeling so confused when it comes to her. I feel things a man engaged to another woman shouldn't feel. Things I shouldn't feel about a woman who is dating my brother. I need to tread carefully. And between Tori coming back to town later this week, James dating Bella, Charlotte showing up on his doorstep a few days ago, Bella's lack of memory and my ability to fill in some blanks for her…we are at max capacity for disaster and drama.

Why do I suddenly feel like I'm starring in a Lifetime movie for Women? Yup…that pretty much sums it up! All drama, all the time. 

I drive back to Four Seas, as if I'm on autopilot. I unload the food into the refrigerators so it's still fresh for tomorrow. Once I'm finished, I lock up and head upstairs to collapse in the only functioning bedroom we have here. All the other rooms are still lacking in accommodations, but James and I specifically wanted to make sure we had a place to crash for when one of us has a super-late night either catering or managing the pub.

As I strip down to my boxers and crawl under the covers, before sleep overtakes my body, my last thoughts are of Bella. Her story, her sadness, her bravery…and her in my arms before we said goodnight. And suddenly, I fear that my relationship with her, which has been beyond complicated up until this point, is about to get impossibly more problematic.
I think we're gonna need a bigger boat.