Chapter 12: Peach Colored Heart Part I


Peach is the color that moves into the thoughts,fears and self-preservation energies, and is fueled by survival. It is excellent when entering new situations or enduring long term discomfort. Peach is charming and disarming in order to get around others anger and to get the needs met. It is warmth and generosity and acceptance of others with grace and wide-eyed elegance or at least the pretense of it. Peach also promotes a feeling of calm and comfort.




Four days had passed since I'd "read" the note. Stupid perfect loops of writing. Four days of trying to remember what words from the note sounded like English words. Stupid Italian language. Four days of cursing myself for taking Spanish in college and not Italian... because who would ever need Italian in the United States? Right? Oh, that's right. Stupid, idiotic, me.

It had been three days since I'd picked up the 11" x 14" painting for Edward's birthday. I loved it; it was also within my budget since it was painted by a student painter and not an established artist. Two figures—a man and woman staring from the bridge looking out onto the water below. A beautiful pink sky; a soft pearl-covered moon. It was titled, "Una notte indimenticabile." It had definitely been a memorable night for me—for us. I bought a simple black frame and taped a bright pink neon index card with a message written in my best cursive writing to the back of the painting and closed it with the frame's wooden back. I didn't plan to tell Edward that there was a hidden message there. The words I'd written were so ridiculously simple. It made me happy to know that they were there, even if he never opened it up and saw it for himself. I couldn't let myself wrap the painting just yet, I myself loved it so much. It reminded me of our first night together in Italy. That crazy, crazy night! But before the craziness, it was just a first date in a beautiful city. An incredibly memorable one.

Most importantly, it had been four days since the note was devouring my every thought. And why not? I'd always been the queen of waiting for bad stuff to happen, and it usually did happen. Especially with men. What was life if it didn't slap you in the face every time you felt happiness though? I always wanted to catch the bad before it happened. I could say, Aha! I saw you coming this time and this time I'm prepared! A tricked heart is a broken heart; it's an unhealed wound that no one can see.

When I was alone with my thoughts, the past few days, I'd come to a few conclusions: that it wasn't a note—but a declaration of love, a thank you for the best sex this person (whom I knew was some supermodel-height Italian goddess), had ever had, and finally that it was a long-term relationship that he'd not told me about, a first love perhaps; someone he couldn't let go of. Why else would he have kept it? I waited for Edward to say something to me that night. For something to shift where I could feel him pull away from our budding relationship. I expected to see all the classic signs; a memory of a past or first love that was so perfect and blinding that that all he wanted was to go back there and experience that feeling. I assumed Edward would start to call me less often and make excuses about us getting together. But it turned out that I was the one that was the most distracted. I was the one who faked a headache when he called me after work last Thursday so I could mope. The shopping and Alice had distracted me at first, but it begin to drill a hole in my mind and would not let up. And over the weekend, when we'd had late night dinner dates, I couldn't really concentrate or enjoy myself. Our conversations became a bit choppy; we shared lots of moments of silence. And we hadn't had sex. Now, I realized that I'd gone without sex for a long time before. A few days of no sex wasn't a drought in any stretch of the imagination or anything, but I felt that I needed him, which was a bit frightening because we hadn't known each other that long. And I couldn't need him if there was something that was unresolved on my mind and hanging above my head like a black cloud in a cartoon comic strip. Anytime there was a pause in the conversation between us, I'd wait for the talk to turn dark. I waited for him to make a big reveal or for there to be a casual mention of this mysterious, exotic sounding Irina. It never came.

On Monday morning, I was disgusted with myself. I was an annoying, snooping, self-doubting, suspicious, total whiny bitch. I never saw myself that way before and it was incredibly scary, that I was able to recognize it in myself. Make that all of the previously stated plus an extra side of lying and extreme horny-ness. Alice could tell too, and although I never made mention of my suspicions, I knew I couldn't waste my time dwelling on it anymore. I was not only hiding my feelings and suspicions from Edward, but from Alice, the best friend anyone could ever have. I was wasting time feeling insecure and pushing Edward away just when things were feeling so easy between us. That was the old me creeping back and I wanted her forever gone.

Monday night I resolved to do something about it. Of course, as in a lot of situations I feel uncomfortable in, I needed some liquid courage to help me. So, I did the most rational thing I could think of. I got the okay to drink Alice and Jasper's assortment of liquors when they went out for some alone time and let my mind be free for awhile. If you can't find your own courage, what's wrong with the liquid kind? It was at this moment when I started thinking I couldn't really confront my own emotions without drinking.



Monday (night)

Mom and Dad were going to be delayed. They said that they didn't even know if they'd make it in time for my birthday and I told them that it was fine; in fact, it was more than fine. Apparently there was a problem with a client back in the home office and they needed to sort things out before coming to Italy. In actuality, I was thrilled about the possibility of them not being here in time for my birthday. I was a grown man and hadn't celebrated a birthday with them in years.

Also, I'd noticed a difference in Bella and wanted to resolve it before there was an opportunity to introduce her to them. She seemed quieter, more reserved all of a sudden and I could pinpoint it to the day Rosalie took Bella home. She was tight-lipped about her car ride with Rosalie and said she wasn't feeling well when I tried to make plans with her that night. Of course, I accused Rosalie and she snapped back telling me that everything wasn't always her fault. Still, I maintained it was a good guess. Bella said they talked about girl stuff—whatever that meant. And later, when Bella and I'd kissed, it felt like her mind was somewhere else. I asked her if something was the matter and she said there wasn't. I couldn't figure out if it was one of those girl things... they always said one thing but meant the complete opposite. I could only prompt her so much before starting to think that maybe it was something I said or did.

Meanwhile, Emmett had been watching Rosalie like a hawk, looking for another pregnancy sign to add to the list he'd drawn up in his mind. Still, he hadn't asked her point blank but he'd drawn a new deadline. Tomorrow, he'd said. "If she doesn't tell me today, I'll ask her tomorrow." And that day had been yesterday, with no confirmation. Emmett was planning a dinner date with Rosalie tonight and he'd planned to broach the subject. He was looking forward to it and he could not hide how he was feeling all day: hyper, extra-friendly, and lots of jokes.

I'd called Bella during my lunch break and found out that Alice and Jasper were going to some dinner/concert thing later that evening, so after work we were going to have the apartment to ourselves. I was really looking forward to it, since we'd only really had a few hours the last few days when I wasn't working and the days seemed to be flying by faster than ever.

I knocked on the door and it took Bella all of three seconds to answer. She greeted me at the door with an embrace, throwing her arms around my neck.

"Babe," she slurred. "I'm so happy you're here."

She wore a long thin peach tank top that nearly covered her really tiny frayed jean shorts. Her top was so sheer that I could see her bright pink bra underneath.

"Hey Pinky."

"Edward, let's do it. I really, really want you right now."

I laughed, scratching the back of my hair, hearing her say things like that was always so shocking—but it was such a turn-on.

"I'm beginning to think you only want me for my body."

She smiled. "Of course not! But if that were the case, is that such a bad thing?"

"How much have you had to drink tonight?" I was only half-joking.

She pouted and it was the cutest thing; she really looked upset. I leaned down to reach her lips, enjoying her lips and tongue as we kissed. She brought her hands to the sides of my face and I felt that same excitement and passion back from her, a renewed energy, like it was the first night we'd kissed. She got aggressive as she sped up the pace, a mixture of mostly tongue and some sucking of my lips. Her breathing seemed a bit labored as I tried to keep up the pace. Her hands wildly grasped my hair and she pushed herself close to my body so we were chest to chest. She was very warm though the apartment itself was very cool. She pressed her lower body into me and began rubbing herself against my dick. It didn't take me long to be ready, especially when she unbuckled my belt, lowered the zipper and put a hand inside my boxers, causing pleasure to shoot up my spine as her soft hands rubbed over and up the length to the base. Since my jeans were still on, she couldn't get a complete handle around it, though she certainly tried, but it was enough to make me increasingly hard. She pushed my jeans down halfway with one hand and I used my hand to push them down to the floor. We hadn't had sex in a few days and I'd already missed her so much. I grabbed her ass and she moaned, losing her grip on my dick. I lifted her up so I was carrying her and so I wouldn't be hunched over. Her legs circled my waist and were just low enough so that if we were undressed we could have had a repeat of what we'd done against the wall at the house boat. I was at the perfect angle to feel her ass as her shorts were so tiny that as I lifted her up, my hands easily slid under them. I was surprised to only feel skin there and not feel the lace or cotton or silk of her underwear underneath.

"Pinky? Are you not wearing—"

"No," she panted. "I told you. I want you. Now."

She looked at me with a gaze that could pierce through my eyes. The want was evident, and certainly mutual. I held back a moan as my body was completely ready.

We somehow wobbled our way to the couch—it was the closest thing—and I'd only literally made it a few steps inside of the apartment.

I sat down on the couch with her on my lap and her legs curled around me and broke our kisses long enough to pull off her thin tank top. I admired the new pink bra that I hadn't seen before for two seconds. It was simple, bright pink with only a tiny red bow in the middle; such a sexy, simple thing. I kissed her over each perfect mound, squeezing her over the fabric before being too impatient to tease her as she leaned her head back. I unhooked it while she pulled the straps down and it fell in a lump across the couch.

No sooner had the bra fallen, than my mouth was reacquainting itself with the familiar taste of her nipples gliding against my tongue and hands moving along her curves. Her scent was intoxicating. Her strawberry scented shampoo that had become my favorite smell, a light lilac perfume mixed in across her neck and wrists drifted around us as we moved. She shifted her body so that she was feeling the hardness in my boxers and we were both humming at the sensations it was causing. I hoped that the passion that I was feeling was the same for her.

"Wait!" she said, all of a sudden. I stopped, almost startled while looking up in a sort of lusty haze, wondering what might have caused the distraction. Her eyes were brown honey and surprised, I could tell even though half of her face was covered in her hair.

She jumped up and I watched her bare back as she ran to the door and locked it.

"I learn my lessons," she said. "Come on, let's go to the bedroom."

We shed the rest of our clothes like they were on fire. I couldn't even say whether I undressed her the rest of the way, or if it was me, and did I undress myself or did she?

She pushed me down onto the bed, and kissed me hard while tugging at sides of my hair and then pulled away suddenly, turned the opposite way, draping herself over my body and began the fun in the 69 position, something we hadn't done yet. As she found a comfortable position, I shifted myself so I could in turn please her. She licked and stroked my cock as I licked and sucked at her bare pussy, feeling her from the inside with my tongue and fingers and tasting as she became more and more excited and aroused. We both moaned and quivered with pleasure. And the foreplay was what set the pace. She didn't want it to be slow and nice and neat, therefore, neither did I. Our movements became frenzied, and we were rough. Hands gripping, hair pulling and back scratching. We made time for kissing, but it was really about new sensations, new deeper positions, lots of shifting of legs and switching positions.

Face down. Ass up. I pounded into her from behind.

"Yes! Yes! Yesss!"

I groaned. I enjoyed the new visual from behind, the sight of her perfect behind as I kept her steady. Her hands gripped at her sheets as she moaned her approval and I matched with my own grunts.

I drilled inside, gripping her bouncing breasts in my palms, steadying her waist, squeezing her ass, helping push her back and forth to meet each hard stroke.

"Edward! Edward! Edward!" she cried out. "Harder! Harder! Please don't stop!"

And even as I really kept with her pace, feeling the sweat drip from my hair, it didn't seem to be enough. She was so little and I had a moment of fear that she'd be sore the next day; still it didn't stop her.

"Harder please, harder!"

She turned around, pushing me hard onto my back; she stroked my dick a few times before sliding down onto it slowly. She dug her hands into my shoulder, and leaned down to bite the corner of my bottom lip. She rocked back, slow at first, tossing her hair seductively. But then she began a furious speed and I held onto her hips and she began bouncing up and down and I tried to help her get deeper. And we shifted again, this time, I pulled her to the edge of the bed as I stood over her, pinning her torso to the bed. I pulled her legs over my shoulders and she rested both calves there and we began an almost synchronized thrust and push together. I knew that I had the potential to hurt her in this position because we were going very deep, but we found a rhythm that worked and didn't stop until we were both cumming with a completely satisfactory wave of intense spasms and exhilaration.

"That was so fucking great."

We rested a bit and then Bella initiated again and we were on for another round, this time, mostly in the missionary position. Still, we both came again. It was like we were making up for not having sex in a few days.

Later, we were cleaned up and just lying together on the bed, chatting about fast the summer had gone, and how I wasn't really into celebrating my birthday with family. I mentioned the houseboat and her eyes lit up and she smiled so big, that I'd regretted not taking her there again. As the time began to get away from us, I regretted not packing my work clothes so I could stay the night. I knew we'd learned our lesson, but if I had planned better, I could have spent the night and just gone to work from her apartment. Just as I was sitting up, getting ready to leave, Bella pulled my hand and laced our fingers together.



Please don't leave. Please forgive me.

"I need to ask you something."

My thumb palmed his hand in small circles.

There was no easy way to begin, so those words ended up being the intro to the words that came out of my mouth next.


"Who's..." I pronounced the name to the best of my ability, "I-REE-NA?"

His forehead creased and his eyes scrunched up while his mouth hung open. Edward took a breath like he was going to say something, but nothing came out. He sucked in a breath and let out a deep sigh. His eyes looked away. My heart felt like it was in my ears. I was nervous and completely panicked. I was going to be the one to ruin our relationship. I let go of his hand. This was bad. Really bad if he had no words.

And, of course the silence had to be filled because I'd always been uncomfortable with silence. My mind shouted for me to be quiet, but I couldn't hold back. I could blame it on the alcohol, but I felt sobered after the intense sex session we'd just had. A wave of word-vomit came out. Everything that I'd been worrying about, every insecurity I'd had was out in less than a minute. His eyes return to mine, "What did Rosalie-"

It stopped me for a moment. Rosalie? Rosalie had never told me anything about Irina. Or did she? I couldn't wait for the rest of his question. I had to confess.

"I found a note from her. I… uh… read a note that was addressed to you. I didn't mean to! It fell out of your pocket when I was picking up your room. And you know…I've been burned before and I want to trust you. And I know that was a really rotten thing to do. I feel like shit, I really do. But I really have to know. I just can't stand it. I can't stand that you'd keep something like this from me. Please forgive me. Please say something."

"You read the note," he said carefully. I couldn't tell if he was about to explode or if he was in shock. So, I started to tear up and then my vision was blurred as tears started streaming from my eyes. From super loved up to super let down. Why was I always a roller coaster of emotions? Was I that crazy? I was the ultimate downer and absolute buzz kill. And I was so embarrassed by the emotions. I covered my face with my hands and after a moment felt him try to tug them off. It wasn't very difficult; my hands were weak and easily moved.

"Hey," he said softly. The bed shifted and then I felt him place a soft kiss on my forehead. "No, baby. There's nothing to be concerned about. I'm such an idiot. I used to uh…have a kind of thing with her a summer ago, but it wasn't like you and me… I promise. I thought Rosalie had told you about her or something and I was about to get really pissed. But, it wasn't because I have something to hide. I meant to throw the stupid thing away—it was something I just shoved in my pocket and completely forgot about. I didn't even get a chance to read it. When I went on that business trip to Amsterdam, she ended up on the same flight back, she gave me the note after the flight and nothing happened, I barely talked to her. We didn't even sit next to each other. Trust me. She's no competition, you win by miles."

It was weird how the conversation had shifted. How I had been begging for forgiveness, for being a snoop, for having to confess that knowing about it was slowly driving me both crazy and away from him.

"If you want to know the details of what we had, I can explain it to you. She really wasn't an important part of my life though, not like you are, Bella. Is this why you've been quiet lately?"

He grabbed my hands and stroked them as what he was saying soaked in and I sniffled and thought how much of a cry baby I was.

"I'm such a baby! I'm sorry I'm so fucking sensitive."

He shook his head.

"I never even thought to bring her up at all because we had just met and she really meant nothing at all to me. She was never my girlfriend or anything remotely close."

"I just feel terrible for keeping this from you," I said shaking my head. I'm sorry for pushing you away these past few days. I just didn't know what to do. I know it's a lame excuse to blame my previous relationship, and it's cliché, but it really is true. What's the point in previous relationships if you don't learn lessons from them? And, I really felt that my heart was led by lies and my mind won't let me forget that."

Edward squeezed my hand. "I should have told you, but I really didn't think it was a big deal at all." He stopped for a moment. "I'm actually curious though…how did you even read it? Do you actually know how to read Italian?"

I sniffled. "Um, no… but it was obvious that it was a love letter."

He shook his head.

"I didn't read it, because I was pretty sure it just had her number on it or something. I mean, she was interested in me, and I think she was hoping that we could pick up from the last time we'd been together, but if I were to be interested, I'd have kept in touch with her a long time ago. I didn't because she wasn't that interesting, we didn't share much. In fact, I almost didn't even recognize her on the plane."

I felt better hearing this from him. I pulled him back down onto the bed. He kissed me on my forehead and then pulled his arms around me. He hugged me so tight it was almost uncomfortable.

"Bella, please just don't think you have to hide anything. You can trust me."

And so I finally told him the story about me and James. How I thought everything had been fine in our relationship only to find out that his feelings had drastically changed, how I'd been cheated on and heart broken. And he told me about Tanya, how they'd met in high school, drifted apart and then rekindled when he got back, but that they were completely over. We both were over our past loves and all that mattered was what we did in the present.

When Alice and Jasper finally (rather nosily) came back home a few hours later, Edward was still lying in my bed. We weren't talking anymore, just soaking in the comfort of each other's presence, hearing each other's steady breathing, living in the moment, a beautiful life in a magnificent city. We smiled at each other as we heard Jasper and Alice laughing and making their way to their bedroom. It was nice to have that renewed feeling inside and all over; the shackles were broken from my self-imposed prison. It was just nice to be completely free of secrets and hidden feelings.

Except, I still hadn't told him about the secret I'd stumbled upon regarding Rosalie and Emmett. That was really the last thing I was holding back from him. Was it the same as Edward not telling me about Irina? It wasn't necessary in our relationship for me to ever find out about Irina, especially since I now knew that she was just a tiny part of his past. Of course, now Irina was on my radar, and I still felt a bit threatened by her, but I'd never tell him that. I believed Edward; I had to, because otherwise I wasn't improving my relationships, I was just hampering them and looking for cause for a break up. I already felt less weighed down by clearing the air about Irina, but I'd be totally free if I also shared with him my secret about Rosalie. And if there came a choice between keeping my word about Rosalie's pregnancy compared to potentially hurting Edward by keeping something important like this… I knew which choice I'd make. But as I lay there looking into Edwards beautiful eyes with my hand playing in his soft hair and his hand casually draped over my arm, I had a last minute thought. I would keep it peaceful for now, because it felt so damn good in the moment. I would give it some time to let Rosalie sort out her own mess, but I had to tell someone. I knew the perfect person. Alice. I would tell her soon.

I didn't want Edward to leave even though he had to work the next day; still we ended up falling asleep together, but we were startled awake with a call around four in the morning.

"Oh, shit, it's already four? Who's calling at this hour?" Edward mumbled, looking at the number displayed on his phone's caller ID. "Must be wrong number, I've never seen this one before."

He sent the call to voice mail.

"I didn't realize how late it was, Bella. I need to get going or I'm going to be late for work again."

He got up and stretched, giving me a kiss on my lips. An alert sounded on his phone to show that he had a voice mail.

"Well, let's see who this is."



I called in to hear the voicemail that had been left, which I'd assumed was a wrong number. A woman with a heavily accented English accent came on over the line.

This message is for Edward Cullen. I'm calling from Anthea Hospital, Please contact us immediately regarding Emmett and Rosalie Cullen. They've been involved in an accident. We have you listed as an emergency contact.

My mouth went dry as she left the call back number.

Bella noticed the change in my demeanor immediately. She opened her mouth to ask, but before she could answer I blurted it out.

"There's been an accident, Bella."

My voice broke and my lip quivered as I felt a cold shiver run up my spine.

Please, please let them be okay.

I pushed the redial button and practically held my breath while it rang.


A/N It was not my intention to test anyone's ability to stick around with my story. Sorry for the delay and I PROMISE a faster update next chapter. There are only a few chapters left! I appreciate every one of my readers. Hope to see you next chapter. By the way, the Italian translation last chapter was screwed up and so I gave the translation to everyone who reviewed, but if I missed you, go back to the A/N last chapter for the translation. It would be awesome if you left me a review.

Special Thanks:

Thanks as always to LovelyBrutal and piperann for editing. Please forgive any mistakes I may have made. I own my own mistakes.

Thanks to the readers that have somehow stuck by this story. You mean so much to me!

Fun fact: I like the number FOUR, and I tended to use that number a bit in this chapter. (That's a Divergent reference, by the way. *giggles*)



By the way, I'm sorry I had to cancel my FF twitter account. It's one thing to have an opinion and another to be disgusted by the things that were being said. I write fanfiction because I love the characters, I love my hearing what my "own" characters have to say in a completely different setting. I don't do it for reviews (though I do beg for them don't I?), I do it because of the inspiration of Twilight. I feel like the people who used to be in it for the same reasons have different reasons now, and I don't agree with it. So I hope you feel, in my writing that I still have that "thing" that made you want to read fanfiction in the first place, though I know I'm not the BEST fanfiction writer in all of the fandom-I don't claim to be and I'm quite okay with that. And this doesn't apply to everyone in the fanfiction fandom, it's just a trend that I've seen sort of spiral out of control. Annnnd End rant. Sorry if I've offended anyone, that was not the purpose.