Secrets

I DOZED OFF on our private Jetliner coming from Brazil. The nine-hour flight seemed to drag on forever. I sat in my seat, exhausted. I wasn't hungry; instead I was nauseous and dizzy. My stomach churned incessantly. I didn't see anything out the small, tinted window except blue, blue, and more firmaments of blue, with the occasional white cloud scuttling by. Just a clear day on our way back to Forks.

Having Edward beside me made it harder to sleep; the shock of his touch hadn't worn off yet, and the way he smiled constantly managed to dazzle me and mangle the rhythm of my heart. I ignored him after he commanded me to rest for the millionth time; I wanted to be wide-awake with him. Edward bought a private plane for me—it irked me all the more that the flight attendant grinned flirtatiously at Edward. Later she and her friend, who were supposed to be working, exchanged glances obviously at the Greek god sitting next to me.

It was bad enough to concentrate when he was that close, and I didn't have long to make it clear to them that Edward was off limits. He smiled heavenly before he kissed me and wove his fingers in my dark brown hair. I heard the low gasps from the onlookers behind. He noticed the pair and began kissing me with unkempt passion. Edward let go of me, laughing breathlessly. I knew he wasn't finished, but I was extremely tired. I lay encased in his arms as he grabbed a blanket from above us to keep me warm while I drifted asleep.

When the jet landed in Texas to refuel, Edward gently shook me awake with his hands. I arose from my stupor stumbling, despite the fact that his arm curved around my waist for support. We entered the vacant terminal.

Edward asked me, "Are you still upset with me about the plane?"

"Kind of."

I looked around the barren airport, out the window as a tawny sunset glistened on the white tiles. Edward was already pulling us out of the way.

"Would you forgive me if I trade it to someone else?" he said, trying to avoid the sunlight by weaving through the shadows.

"No. It's too late now we're already halfway there. What's the point?" I sighed.

He frowned at me.

"Bella, I am sorry. If I knew you didn't want the seats alone, I wouldn't have bought the plane."

"I forgive you," I said reaching up on my toes to kiss his cold lips.

"You want something to eat?' He asked.

"No. I ate before we left the cabin and I'm still kind of full," I lied.

When we boarded our jet, I was glad he didn't mention food again after that.

Our quarter was large, filled with open space in the middle and a long panel for seats on the other side facing us. Wine coolers were pitched in ice on a table. Above the door to the pilot's cabin was an oversized blue ray digital television. Casually listening to the news, Edward wrapped his arm around me; he was my brace for the turbulence. I was deathly terrified of falling out of the sky, especially with my hard luck. A very elegant woman, who spoke with a pleasant disclaimer, appeared on the screen her caramel colored skin beautifully cast on camera. It appeared flawless. She gave the weather report with an update for Washington.

"Due to an aggressive snowstorm coming down from the Artic Circle, all flights coming in will be the last, no more air crafts will be allowed to go out. This storm looks ready and pledged to dismay anything that stands in conflict. Already we have one plane down from an incoming flight. We advise everyone to keep of all roads in Washington until this one blows over. Back to you Tyler."

"Martha," the screen shifted back to the male new anchor. "Thank you for the weather report. Good night, everybody. We'll see you back here on Channel Seven news at eight o'clock The Insider. Branjolina are having…."

I tuned out the news and fell asleep once more.

Edward was carrying me in the teeming airport. It looked like we were in baggage claim, people came from all directions; I looked up from Edward's coat yawning.

"Shh, go back to sleep," he ordered gently. "It was a long flight. I'll drive."

I couldn't figure out why I was so wore out. I realized when I woke up that I hadn't eaten anything for more than ten hours and that I was hungry; I didn't want to eat fearing I might be sick.

We were safe from the wind outside and in his Volvo with the heater on high yet I was wrapped tightly in an unfamiliar soft, blue blanket.

"How long has it been since you last ate, Bella?" Edward asked.

I didn't answer him and he noticed my reluctance.

"How about Mac Donald's?"

"I'm not hungry," I insisted. "Besides, Edward, isn't there some type of snow storm out there? We should be headed home where I won't get frost bite?" My stomach growled loudly. I cursed quietly. There was no way out now.

Edward went through to the drive through.

"What do you want?"

"I don't want anything," I snapped.

He laughed without humor. "You eating Bella Cullen." I could never stop the flutter of satisfaction in my stomach whenever he said that. I bit my lip trying not to smile.

Then, he decided for me.

The raspy speaker's voice shouted something in the back round before addressing us. "May I take your order?"

"I'd like one large sprite and two big macs with fries, thank you."

"That'll be nineteen forty-three. Pull up front please."

A young girl with bleach blond hair pulled into a ponytail and blue eyes smiled politely as she finished taking the next order.

"Your change is…" She dropped the money she was holding as soon as she saw Edward's perfect face; one girl in the back eating her dinner burst a ketchup package. I chuckled at their faces when they saw who was sitting next to him.

"Clumsy me," she said smiling, and then gave Edward our food with the correct amount of change.

He placed the revolting hamburger in my lap and warm fries wedged between the armrest and my thigh.

I folded my arms across my chest defiantly.

"Bella, eat."

Gently placing his hand on my cheek, he attempted to persuade me. I knew better than to look into his soft gold eyes, so instead I looked out the window at the swirling snow. He sighed in defeat. "You're going to eat soon enough."

Reluctantly, I took a hot, greasy french fry, for his sake; I couldn't worry him anymore by not eating. Forcing down half a bite of the gruesome cheeseburger wasn't so bad, after you got over the constant urge to push it back up. I felt overly nauseous but I held it down by breathing slowly.

I got sick as I predicted but didn't through up yet.

I groaned.

We'd made our way from California into Port Angeles. I sighed in relief that we were almost home. They sky was still dark and the falling snow now rested upon every rooftop.

"What's the matter, love?" Edward looked at me worried. Then touched me with his hand, checking my temperature. "You are burning up." He sounded surprised.

"I think I have the stomach flu."

The last time I remembered getting sick was during my junior year, when Jake and I somehow caught the same bug. I remembered throwing up all the time. The ripe, burning smell, sight of my partially digested food…

"You shouldn't have forced me to eat," I scolded, narrowing my eyes at him. My anger wasn't as impressive due to the relentless summersaults my stomach was doing.

It had to be something much deeper than a virus, I thought. A voice in the back of my head told me what would eventually be the inevitable, but out of fear, I shoved it back into the closet of my worry. My heart skipped a beat. I closed my eyes tightly, prying that it wasn't what I thought.

"I'm sorry. You looked paler, than usual, and I thought you needed to eat. I'll take you to Carlisle," he said remorsefully. "Forgive me?"

"That won't be necessary I can take care of myself," I lied, my voice high pitched. "You're forgiven."

Edward reached over and kissed my forehead. His scent nullified the wracking headache and stopped the queasiness in the pit of my stomach for an instant. A smile tugged at the corner of my lips.

"There's my Bella." His grin gleamed back, leaving me speechless.