|Do Fish Get Thirsty?
Author: XxBanditQueenxX PM
Threequel" to 'Always' and 'Winter of Our Discontent.' Follow along as Bella and Edward continue down their twisted path, picking up a couple miracles along the way. M to be safe.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance - Chapters: 8 - Words: 24,683 - Reviews: 432 - Favs: 216 - Follows: 375 - Updated: 09-28-08 - Published: 07-25-08 - id: 4423857
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: We're back for the third part of this long journey of life and love. I'm glad y'all have stuck with me thus far. Set after graduate school now.
I give you:
Prologue: 7 Weeks
We were in the car, on the way back from Seattle. With undergraduate school finished (granted a semester late, because of the semester we took off for Edward's chemotherapy treatment), we were feeling on top of the world. Hendrix was on the radio, the windows were down, the sun was (surprisingly) shining, and Edward was radiant. Life was good.
Edward looked over at me and grabbed my hand. "So…how does it feel to be an undergrad graduate?" he teased.
"Almost as good as it would feel to be a graduate graduate."
He laughed and stepped on the gas. With the speed climbing, I began to get slightly nervous, but my upbeat mood couldn't be squashed. I stuck my hand out of the window and moved my hand up in down like a wave, letting it rock gently in the wind.
And then it happened. I felt the vomit in my throat, choking me. "Pull over, now," I said, panicked as I braced myself for the oncoming vomit attack.
Edward's eyes were wide and he looked frightened as he slowed the Volvo at the edge of the highway. I opened the door and didn't even have time to step out when the puke went flying. It was disgusting. "Are you all right?" Edward asked as he rubbed circles on my back.
I groaned and said, "My toothbrush. Mouthwash. Backseat--"
And I continued to retch on he side of the road while he dug through my bag and found my toothbrush. Finally, my moment of sickness had passed, a bad taste in my mouth and a sour feeling in my stomach. "You all right?" he asked again, sounding anxious and saddened.
"Fine," I groaned again. "I think I'm getting a stomach flu or something."
"A stomach flu?" he asked, sounding thoughtful.
"Yeah. This is, like, the fifth time in two days I've thrown up."
His brow furrowed as I jammed my toothbrush into my mouth. "I hope you aren't getting sick, Bella. We have too much to do, with Alice's party and whatnot."
He was grinning though, and I shoved him playfully. I rinsed my mouth with mouthwash as he hummed along to an old tune, and finally closed the door and put my bag back into the backseat. "All right. Where were we?" I asked, my stomach still feeling a little queasy.
He turned up the radio and, with a laugh, pulled away quickly. "Hey, careful on the driving," I said, patting my stomach.
He grinned. "Sorry. I'm just really excited to be going home. I feel like I haven't been home in forever."
"It's been three months," I replied, laughing lightly.
The drive was relatively quick, with only one stop for gas. It was twilight when we arrived at our home, which had once belonged to my father--the house I had grown up in. He ran around to my side and opened my door before I even had time to unbuckle myself. I laughed as he lifted me carefully from the car and raced toward the front door. "What about our stuff?" I asked, giggling at his enthusiasm.
"We'll get it later," he said, setting me down so he could retrieve the key from under the door.
He opened the door and I zoomed up the stairs, Edward hot on my heels. I ran into our room and hopped onto our bed, turning onto my back and flopping down. I crossed my arms behind my head and smiled at him wickedly. He raised an eyebrow and grinned, pulling his shirt over his head as he crossed the room in two strides.
He climbed on top of me and straddled my legs, a smile wide over his face, reaching his eyes. A mischievous sparkle lit them as he pinned my hands up by my head. He kissed me lightly, nipping playfully at my neck. He collected both of my hands in one and then, let his other run down my shoulder, over my chest, and down to my left breast. When he cupped my breast and gave a light squeeze, I broke the kiss and cried out. In pain.
Edward leaned up quickly. "Did I hurt you? Fuck, I thought I was being gentle!"
I shook my head as I pushed him off of me and straightened my shirt. "They've been hurting. All tender and tingly. I can't even wear my padded bra!"
His eyes widened and then narrowed. "Well…what could be wrong?" he asked, concern written all over his face.
I opened my mouth to say something, and then, there it was again. The overwhelming urge to vomit. I cupped a hand over my mouth and sprinted to the bathroom. When I was finished and had refreshed my teeth, Edward was waiting for me outside the door, looking worried and caring.
"I think you should go lie down, Bella. I'll go make some soup for you."
He made to go to the kitchen, but stopped on the stairs. "Damn. I forgot we don't have food in the house. I'll go next door and ask my mom. Be right back. Go get into bed."
I nodded, not really trusting my stomach to allow me to say much more. I kicked off my shoes and tore off my pants and shirt and put on a shirt of Edward's, as quickly as possible without shaking up my stomach. I climbed into the bed, the cool sheets feeling good against my now burning skin. Edward was gone for what seemed like forever before the front door finally opened.
I heard two pairs of footsteps on the stairs and hushed whispering. My curiosity piqued as I wondered who could be coming over with him. He knocked on the door and cracked it open. "Bella, are you decent? My mother is here to see you."
I could feel the surprise on my face as Esme stepped in. "Hello, dear," she said, coming over to give me a hug.
"Hey, Esme. How've you been?" I asked politely.
She smiled warmly. "Same old, same old. But, I'm here to talk about you, dear."
I heard Edward sigh exasperatedly and say, "I'm going to go put your soup in the microwave."
Esme glared at his back and then smiled at me once more. I raised an eyebrow and gave her a smile somewhere between awkward, amused, (and nauseous). "So, Edward tells me you've been getting sick a lot this week."
I narrowed my eyes, wondering where she was taking this. "Yeah…"
"Any other changes going on? Anywhere inexplicably tender, itchy, or sore?"
I raised an eyebrow and she smiled knowingly. "Date of the beginning of your last period?"
I thought back. I couldn't even remember. With exams and everything else going on, I had forgotten to keep track. It had been around the end of March… "Two months ago, maybe?"
"TWO MONTHS! You mean to tell me, you've gone two months, and you didn't notice something was off?" she said.
Realization of what she was insinuating hit me and my jaw dropped open. "No, I can't be…Edward can't…I think I may faint."
Esme's face grew worried and she began fanning me with a nearby magazine. I began to babble incoherently. "Pregnant, there's no way. Chemo…infertile…sickness…oh, God…"
Edward came up the stairs and to the door saying something like, "We really need to get some food in this hou--"
He stopped short when he saw my hysterical tangent and Esme patting my leg and whispering to me. "What did you do to her?" he asked his mother.
I laughed. "Great going, Cullen. You've knocked me up."
And that basically sets the stage for the rest of the story…hint hint.
Reviews are lovely.