Beautiful Disaster

While ready to offer help, she hasn’t actually been very welcoming towards him – not that I blame her, but it only now occurs to me how that must seem to him. In turn I feel a twinge of guilt at my own behavior – shouldn’t I have been the one acting the most hostile? – but then I quell the thought before it can start bothering me. I know Bella has had ample opportunity to express any misgivings about my behavior, and I have to admit, she only seems to want to stay distant from Jazz herself, while my attempts not to act up have only gotten me grateful smiles from her. As if she’s happy that one of us can at least act civil.

Way before I want to I have to leave for the hospital, Bella on my heels although I know that she rarely starts working before nine in the morning, and for the next four days I have more important things to worry about than whether Bella will kick Jazz’s head in sooner or later or not at all. The cold weather and pre-Thanksgiving madness bring hordes of people into the ER, and I can rarely catch enough time to properly eat before the next full free day. Which gets shoved back another three agonizing long shifts when Amanda tells me that she just can’t let me go home with patients standing in line in front of the OR.

When I finally come home I’m so tired I nearly fall asleep in the elevator.

Two failed attempts to get the door unlocked finally get Bella to open it from the inside, and she greets me with a warm embrace, a passionate kiss, and a much appreciated, "Gee, you look like shit!"

That’s my girl, always has the right words ready.

A strong cup of coffee and some real food later I drag my sorry carcass upstairs into the bed, not surprised that Bella stays up. Only the next morning I realize that things between her and Jazz have shifted a little, at least judging from the way they joke their way through breakfast. It’s a relief to see her more at ease around him again, although I feel a little jealous of the time he gets to spend with her while I’m not around, which in turn makes me feel stupid. I still drag her back into bed when she follows me upstairs to brush her teeth, but I haven’t even successfully gotten my hand into her pants when she stops me cold by pushing away from me.

"Edward, stop."

Confused, I look at the clock first, but it’s still early enough that she won’t be late for work, and I don’t remember her saying anything about having an important meeting today. She’s also still in her sweat pants, not dressed for work and without make-up applied, so it really can’t be that. My eyes find hers and I raise one brow, hoping she will explain, which she does with a sigh – and a quick gaze towards the closed bedroom door.

"I’m really not comfortable with having sex right now."

"Why not?"

She looks at me for a long moment as if that should have been obvious, then catches her lower lip between her teeth.

"Because I’m not comfortable with having sex right now."

"Your period?" I venture a guess, although I know the answer already.

"No. And you know that has very seldom stopped you. Or me, for that matter."

I’m tempted to play this game until she spills the beans, but I’m tired of it already.

"So you don’t want to have sex with me because Jazz is here now."

She nods, obviously waiting for me to throw a fit or something, but when I don’t react at all, she sighs.

"I’m just not comfortable with it."

"You keep repeating that. And just for the record, three times is not the charm here."

She snorts but offers me an apologetic smile at the same time.

"I know. But I can’t really explain it in different words."

"You are aware that he won’t expect us to be celibate just because he’s hogging our couch, right?"

"This is not about him hearing us!" she huffs, then gets up from the bed to start pacing. "This is about me not wanting to give him anything to hear!"

"Okay," I offer in reply, more to the way she throws her hands up in their air than her actual ‘argumentation’ – while both my mind and c**k feel like throwing a fit on their own now.

"Really?"

Her surprise makes me second-guess if I should have fought a little harder for getting some, but the last thing I want is for her to be upset. And I can’t shake off the feeling that there is more to this than her just being squeamish.

"Don’t get me wrong, the fact that I’m the only one who in one way or another doesn’t get to influence when who is going to f**k in this house doesn’t escape me, but if you don’t want to have sex, then we won’t. It’s that easy, and you know that."

Bella nods but still looks chagrin enough that I wonder if she secretly wants me to ignore her, but if that’s the case, she has to tell me so, one way or another. And while I respect her wish, I don’t hide that I’m not very happy about it – particularly with work taking so much of our time together away from me already.

I stay in bed until Bella has left for work, before I get dressed and head out myself. Not many people around that I can visit during the week at this hour of the day, so it’s no surprise that I turn up at Rose and Emmett’s. I’ve called her before I’ve left home but Rose still greets me with a joyful "Oh look who’s here!" before she hugs me, not in the least bit hindered by the infant in her arms, and draws me inside.

She looks tired and worn out – and the fact that it must have been weeks since she last slept for more than three consecutive hours doesn’t help her generally rumpled appearance. I’ve seen her without make-up before but never wearing sweat pants and a washed-out t-shirt to go with it, and it’s obvious that she hasn’t hit the shower today. Yet before I can let out a remark about her appearance or comment on why she has to emphasize my arrival like that when Mona won’t care one way or another, I realize that Rose already has a visitor.

Next to Rose Alice looks even more perfectly put together than she usually does, and her lacquered nails and designer clothes are out of place between the baby stuff strewn across the living room. As usual when I meet her my first reaction is to smile, but she doesn’t reciprocate; in fact I haven’t even gotten my shoes off yet when she surges to her feet, and in a bustle of activity and air kisses leaves. Or rather flees.

Rose and I share a long look until she shrugs and closes the door behind Alice, the frown on her face gone by the time she turns back to me again.

"Wow, that was fast. I thought she’d stay at least long enough to give you her practiced ‘why, of course everything is okay!’ speech."

Trust it to Rose not to give a crap about sweet-talking things.

"So you got that one, too?"

"Nope, it’s all for your benefit only," she teases, then walks over to the fridge. "Can I get you anything to drink? I think we only have diet coke or water, but it’s some kind of choice, right?"

After accepting a can of coke I follow her into the living room, then spend the next few minutes making funny faces at Mona – who requites my efforts by starting to cry, although Rose assures me that it’s not my fault. I cannot quench the feeling of rejection welling up in me – first Bella, then Alice, and now even the baby – today doesn’t seem to be my day. But contrary to the other two Mona’s just tired, and after she is safely tugged in Rose returns to me, looking even more strung out.

"Shit, I tell you, this little bundle of happiness is sucking the very life out of me!"

Despite of her words she’s grinning as she flops down onto the couch, and her smile is easily infectious.

"Wait until she’s old enough so that you have to watch your language. I bet that’s going to be much worse for you."

"Asshole," she gripes back, then shrugs. "Em’s mother is already hounding me that I cannot use such, how does she put it? Ah, right, ‘filthy terms’