Saturday, October 22, 2005
(Mike)
The diner was already half full when we walked in, the familiar smell of coffee, grease, and syrup hitting me like a wall. Forks didn't really wake up early, but the diner was the one place that never seemed empty. Truckers, locals, a couple of old guys arguing quietly over sports in the corner.
Bella hesitated just inside the door, shoulders tight, like even this much movement was an effort. I didn't give her time to overthink it. I guided her to a table by the window and slid in across from her.
The waitress came by almost immediately, coffee pot already in hand.
"Morning," she said, pouring without asking. "What can I get you two?"
I didn't even look at the menu.
"Two mountains of pancakes," I said. "Like, the biggest stacks you've got. And two plates of eggs. Sunny-side up. Lots of bacon on the side. And some bread."
Bella's head snapped toward me.
She stared like I'd just ordered food for a small army. "There's no way I'm eating all that."
I glanced at her, completely unfazed. "Don't worry about it. Eat what you can. I'll handle the rest."
She shook her head slowly, lips twitching despite herself. "You're a pig."
I lifted my chin proudly and pressed a finger under my nose. "Oink oink."
That did it.
She snorted before she could stop herself, then quickly covered her mouth, like she was surprised the sound had come out of her at all. It wasn't loud. It wasn't carefree. But it was a laugh, which I would count as a win.
The waitress raised an eyebrow at our order but just scribbled it down and moved on. I wrapped my hands around my coffee, letting the warmth seep into my fingers, watching Bella stare at the tabletop like she was bracing herself.
When the food finally arrived, it was even more ridiculous than I'd imagined. Pancakes stacked so high they leaned slightly, plates crowded with eggs and bacon, bread shoved onto a separate dish like an afterthought.
Bella stared at it in quiet horror.
I, on the other hand, dug in.
I cut into my eggs, shoveled bacon onto my plate, and immediately went to work on the pancakes. Bella picked up her fork and knife, poking cautiously at her stack like it might collapse on her if she wasn't careful.
Which it did.
Her pancake slid halfway off the plate, and she froze, staring at it like she'd just committed some kind of crime.
I had to bite back a smile.
She tried to cut a smaller piece, movements careful, almost fragile. Meanwhile, I grabbed the syrup and poured it generously over my pancakes. Then some more. Probably an unhealthy amount.
Bella watched in slow-motion horror as I folded one pancake over itself and shoved it into my mouth without cutting it at all.
She stared at me like I was a wild animal.
I swallowed and caught her look, raising an eyebrow. "You eating or not?"
She blinked, then sighed. "Alright, alright."
She took a small bite, chewing slowly, like she wasn't sure her body remembered how to do this. I didn't rush her. I just kept eating, kept things normal, loud, unapologetic.
After a few minutes, I took a sip of coffee and leaned back slightly.
"Enjoy this outing," I said casually, "because after today, I'm handing full custody back to Charlie."
She paused mid-chew and looked up at me.
"What?"
"I mean it," I went on. "From now on, I'll only see you in class and maybe every other weekend. That's it."
She swallowed hard and huffed. "I'm not your daughter, Mike."
I took another sip of coffee, letting the words settle before answering. "Then you've gotta stop acting like it."
Her eyes widened just a little.
"This past month," I continued, calmer now, "I've spent most of my free time taking care of you. Making sure you eat. Making sure you don't shut yourself away completely. I know you're hurt. I get that. I've been trying to be understanding."
I set the mug down.
"But you're not getting better. So I'm trying something different."
She looked down at her plate, shoulders slowly curling inward.
"I'm giving you space," I said. "Real space. You heal on your own terms. You can still call me if it's an emergency. I'm not disappearing. But I can't keep hovering like this. It's not helping either of us."
Her fingers tightened around her fork.
"…Sorry," she said quietly. "For being such a burden."
That hit harder than I expected.
I leaned forward immediately. "Hey. No. Stop that."
She flinched, then looked up.
"You're not a burden, Bella," I said firmly. "Not even close. But being this dependent on someone else? That's not healthy. I don't want you living your life around who's keeping you afloat. I want you to make your own life."
She stared at her plate for a long second.
Then, for some reason, she chuckled.
It was soft, almost disbelieving.
"You're really starting to sound like you are my father," she said.
I snorted. "Great. That means I'm officially old."
She smiled faintly, shaking her head, and took another bite of pancake. This one was a little bigger than the last.
I watched her eat, not saying anything else.
Progress didn't have to be loud.
Sometimes it was just a girl, a fork, and a pancake that stayed on the plate.
And for now, that was enough.
…
In the end, Bella barely made it through a tenth of what was on the table.
To be fair, even that was impressive. For a normal human, it was a solid breakfast. For Bella, after weeks of barely eating, it was a minor miracle.
I watched her slow down, fork hovering uncertainly over the plate before she finally set it down with a small sigh.
"I'm full," she said, sounding more apologetic than satisfied.
"That's fine," I said immediately. "You did good."
She glanced at the food like it had personally betrayed her. "You're insane if you think you're finishing all that."
I didn't answer. I just picked up my fork and kept going.
Pancakes. Eggs. Bacon. Bread. I cleaned plate after plate without pausing, barely slowing down, syrup disappearing, bacon vanishing in handfuls. A couple at the counter started openly staring. One guy near the window stopped mid-sip of coffee, eyes wide.
Bella noticed too.
She leaned back slightly, watching me with a mix of disbelief and concern. "You're not even breathing between bites."
"I am," I said around a mouthful. "Just efficiently."
By the time I leaned back, the table was a graveyard of empty plates. I didn't feel bloated. I barely felt half-full.
Bella shook her head. "You're not human."
"Last I checked… you're right," I said.
I paid the bill and left a generous tip. Something I probably would not have done a couple months ago. Turns out having money you did not have to worry about changed things.
We stepped back into the cool air, the sky still heavy with clouds. I unlocked the car, and we drove out of town, past familiar roads, toward the stretch of forest near the Cullens' old place.
I parked where the trees grew thicker, the road narrowing until it felt like the world was being swallowed by green.
As we got out, I popped the trunk and grabbed a backpack.
Bella eyed it. "What's that?"
"Food and water," I said. "Just in case."
I slung it over one shoulder and then paused, turning to her. "Do you know which way the clearing is?"
She chewed her lip, eyes drifting to the trees like she was trying to see through them. Then she pointed to the right.
"I think that way," she said. "I don't know how far though. Edward took me there on his back. He ran for a while."
"Vampire while?" I asked.
She grimaced. "Long."
I handed her the backpack. "You carry this."
She barely had time to protest before I crouched slightly in front of her. "Get on."
She blinked. "What?"
"I'll carry you," I said. "I might not be vampire fast in human form, but it'll still be faster than you walking all the way there."
She hesitated. "Why don't you just shift into your wolf form?"
I snorted. "Unless it's an emergency, only Leah is allowed to ride me like that."
Bella froze.
Her face heated instantly, pink blooming across her cheeks.
"Oh," she said, clearly hearing it the same way I suddenly did.
It took me a second.
Then I laughed loud enough to echo between the trees.
"Wow," I said, wiping at my eyes. "That sounded way worse than I meant."
Bella huffed, still blushing. "You think?"
"Get on," I said, still grinning. "Before it gets even more awkward."
She climbed onto my back carefully, arms looping around my shoulders. She was light. Too light. It made my jaw tighten, but I pushed the thought aside and started moving.
Her directions were… vague.
"Maybe more left?"
"No, wait. I think it was straighter."
"Actually, we might have gone too far."
We backtracked. Then did it again. At one point, I stopped and turned in a slow circle.
"Bella," I said, "be honest. Are you guessing?"
She sighed against my shoulder. "A little."
We laughed about it, but the hours stretched on. The forest thickened, thinned, then thickened again. We stopped to drink water, to eat cookies, to reorient ourselves. By the time the light shifted and I began feeling numb, nearly five hours had passed.
Then suddenly, the trees opened.
I stepped into the clearing and stopped.
It was… underwhelming.
The grass was dull, the flowers wilted, their colors long gone. The air felt quiet, but not magical. Just empty.
Bella slid off my back slowly and took a few steps forward. She turned in a slow circle, then let out a breath.
"This is it," she said softly.
"You're sure?" I asked.
She nodded. "The trees are in the same place. I wouldn't mistake it."
We sat down in the middle. I took the backpack from her and pulled out sandwiches, handing her one along with a bottle of water. I cracked open a Coke for myself.
"Well," I said after a bite, "how do you feel?"
She opened the water and took a long sip before answering.
"I don't know," she admitted. "Before, I felt like I needed to see this place again. Like it was… important. But now that I'm here, I just feel empty." She stared at the ground. "Everything with Edward feels so far away. Like it was all just a dream."
I chewed, swallowed, then grabbed a second sandwich.
"I get it," I said. "But you know what's weird about dreams?"
She looked at me.
"When you're in them, everything makes sense. It feels perfect. Then you wake up and think about it, and you start noticing all the inconsistencies. All the stuff that should've tipped you off." I shrugged. "And suddenly you realize how stupid it was."
Bella exhaled and picked up her sandwich.
"That's exactly how I feel," she said. "Everything was too good to be true."
She took a bite, slow and thoughtful, eyes unfocused as she stared at the wilted flowers.
We stayed like that for a while, but the silence didn't feel heavy at all.
It just felt real.
…
We ate in silence for a few minutes, the forest settling around us. A breeze stirred the branches overhead, sending a few brittle leaves skittering across the clearing.
Then Bella spoke again, quieter this time.
"Do you still… keep in contact with the Cullens?"
I paused mid-chew.
I swallowed, took a slow sip of my Coke, and stared at the trees for a second longer than necessary before answering.
"Yeah," I said softly. "I still talk to Alice sometimes. And Emmett and I play online together every now and then."
She glanced at me, waiting.
"It's not like before," I added. "We don't say much. It's… awkward."
Bella nodded faintly, fingers tightening around her water bottle.
"Where are they?" she asked.
"Alaska," I said. "They're staying with their 'cousins.' The Denali coven."
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "Is Edward there too?"
I sighed, leaning back on my hands and tipping my face toward the gray sky filtering through the trees.
"No," I said. "He left on his own."
She looked down.
"According to Alice, he only calls once a week," I continued. "Esme's worried about him."
Bella bit her lip, eyes distant. "I see…"
The air felt heavier again. Familiar. Dangerous.
I straightened abruptly. "Hey."
She looked up.
"We came out here so you could get over Edward," I said firmly. "Not spiral back into thinking about him. So let's not talk about him anymore."
She hesitated, then nodded. "You're right. It's not healthy."
She took another sip of water, then glanced at me sideways. "So… how are things going with Leah?"
I relaxed a little. "Good. Really good."
She smiled, a genuine one this time. "Any talk about settling down?"
I had just taken a mouthful of soda when her words made me sputter, coughing as it went completely the wrong way. Cola burned its way up my nose, and I bent forward, hacking and wiping at my face with my sleeve.
Bella stared at me for half a second.
Then she burst out laughing.
I wiped my nose again, groaning. "Glad my suffering is so entertaining."
She pressed a hand to her mouth, still giggling. "Sorry. You just looked so shocked."
I leaned back, exhaling slowly. "Settling down, huh…"
I stared at the canopy overhead, watching branches sway.
"Honestly? I haven't thought about it," I admitted. "I mean, we're good. Great, even. But I haven't even graduated high school yet. It just… slipped my mind."
Bella tilted her head. "Do you think Leah has thought about it?"
That did not help.
My stomach dropped.
"Oh god," I muttered. "What if she has?"
Bella raised an eyebrow.
"What if she's been waiting for me to say something and I've just been my usual oblivious self?" I said, words starting to tumble out. "What if she thinks I'm not serious? Or that I don't see a future with her?"
I sat up straighter. "What if she gets mad? Or worse, bored?"
Bella chuckled. "Mike."
"I mean, she could be thinking I'm dragging my feet and…"
"Mike, breathe."
I sucked in a sharp breath. "Right. Breathing. I should do that."
I forced myself to inhale, then exhale. Slowly.
"That helped," I said, only half joking, even though my mind was already spiraling into imaginary proposal plans involving rings and speeches and catastrophic failure.
Bella shook her head, smiling. "You should talk to her about it."
I frowned. "Wouldn't that ruin the surprise of proposing?"
She rolled her eyes fondly. "You wouldn't be proposing. You'd just be talking."
"Talking about what?"
"About your future," she said. "Together. Casually. Ask what she wants. Where she sees herself. You can save the big proposal for later."
I considered that.
"Like… after graduation?" I asked.
"Or even later than that," she said. "Nobody's rushing you."
Something loosened in my chest.
"…Yeah," I said. "You're right. Of course you're right."
We stayed there for hours after that, talking about nothing and everything. School. Movies. Seth's endless energy. Leah's temper. Charlie's cooking disasters. The forest shifted with the afternoon light, shadows stretching and changing, the clearing slowly cooling.
Eventually, Bella stood.
She took one last look around, eyes lingering on the trees, the grass, the faded remains of what must have once been beautiful. Like she was storing it away somewhere safe.
"Let's go back," she said.
"You sure?" I asked, standing as well.
She nodded. "Yeah."
She took a deep breath, shoulders squaring.
"It's time to start living again."
…
(Got some inspiration last night and couldn't sleep until I finished writing this chapter, now I'm sleepy 🥱. I know quite a few people don't like Bella, but I think she's an interesting character, and she's pretty easy to write. Support with power stones or comments 🐢 🎶)