Summary


SUMMARY: She was clearly in pain. She clearly needed help. How could I deny her? How could I ignore the distress of a child of God? I couldn't. And that was my downfall.

BxE AH AU of the spiritual kind

A collaboration between Belladonnacullen & FictionFreak95.

Please note that we don't own Twilight, or Catholic prayers, this is simply a work of fanfiction.

(originally posted to FF.net 01.13.2020)


Chapter 31 - Calumny

 

Chapter 31. Calumny

Bella


I try to look self-assured as I take the tiny stage; play it cool the same way I've been doing all my life.

Rose is right. I don't need a guitar. I hear the notes every time I close my eyes. I pulled the words for this song from somewhere deep inside me. So easily strung together, now they're locked in place for life. The lyrics are like breathing. Like the beating of my heart. They happened without trying, but feel vital.

They're not strictly sexy. They're not funny. It's not just another pop song. They're probably what you would find if you could read my soul.

If souls were real, I mean.

I cough. "You think so, Alice?" I ask as I cling to the mic stand. I'm trying to be light. I'm not feeling light. I'm shaking. I can feel Edward's eyes on me from across the room.

"Oh my God, yes!" Alice gushes. "It's so good."

I spot my mom at the back. Her lips are pressed together in a tight smile. I know the look. I've seen it my whole life. During countless dinners with Father Volturi. As she dropped me off for Sunday school. When I took the stage at talent shows in elementary school. She's worried about what might come out of my mouth when I sing.

Something about Mom's a little different though. Maybe it's the set of her shoulders. Maybe it's the slow rise and fall of her chest. Then she wraps her arm around my dad's waist and looks into my eyes from across the room and I know what's different.

She's proud. She's excited. She nods just a little. Oh my God. She's encouraging me to perform.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Emmett whispering in Edward's ear. I can't look at him, though. If I did… If I did...

Dear God.

If I did, everyone in here would know how I feel about him.

It's Sunday mass all over again, but I'm the one on stage, and Edward's waiting to hear what I have to say.

Christ.

Rose and Alice start cheering. "Woohoo! Go Bella!" Everyone from the wedding party stands and starts chanting my name and clapping.

The noise they make is pretty small, all things considered. I've played for stadiums.

This ragtag cheering is much scarier, though. These people have been in my life forever. They're the ones I've been protecting myself from. The ones who never got me. But as I look out and Mom and Dad, Rose and Alice, even Emmett, I know they're the ones who love me, even if they don't totally accept me.

I close my eyes. I take a deep breath. Then another. I finally open my mouth and let them in on a secret. I let them know how I feel. About life. About love. About a nameless person standing less than ten feet away.

At first it's difficult. The words need to tear through something to make it out of my mouth.

My chest burns.

My hands shake.

I pause and take a breath.

When I open my eyes and look out over the little crowd, everyone's watching. You could hear a pin drop. Alice gives me a thumb's up. Dad's recording me with his phone. Mom wipes a tear from her eye.

I try again and it's easier. Like living. Like breathing. Like loving. You learn as you go.

So I sing like I love. My voice is hard and insistent. It's sure.

It's beautiful.

My song builds word upon word, verse on verse. I don't have to think about it. I just am. Rising like the morning tide.

As the last note fades into the air, I open my eyes and look to my left. He's all I see. Edward's lips are parted just a little. His head's inclined, leaning toward me, watching me watching him.

I smile. Now he knows, and I'm glad. All there is is me and him and these feelings I released into the air between us. It's all that matters. Not another person. Not another sound. Not another breath. It's all out there. It's done.

I startle when I hear the first clap. Then there's another. Followed by a smattering, like no one's entirely sure what just happened. The sound steadily builds. Then my family jumps to their feet. They cheer. They shout.

Alice rushes the stage and throws her arms around me. Then Rose is there too. They pull me down with them. I stumble into my dad's arms which wrap around me like steel bands.

"And I wanted to keep you in Brooklyn." He kisses the top of my head. "Christ, baby girl." He holds me at arms' length. "You took my breath away."

"Isabella!" Mom's voice cuts through the hubbub around us. I freeze.

"Isabella Marie Swan!" She pushes through the crowd, shoving people out of the way. Then looks me over from head to toe and she wipes some tears from her eyes.

"That was my favorite one yet. Will it be on the YouTube soon?"

My dad holds up his cell. "Got it right here, Renee."

Suddenly Edward's there with us. My dad looks between Edward and me for a quick second, then slings his arm over Edward's shoulder like they're old friends. I open my mouth, but I'm not sure what to say. I left it all up on the stage.

"That was…" Edward shakes his head but doesn't finish his thought.

"You ever hear anything like that before?" my dad asks him.

Edward doesn't take his eyes off me. "No," he says. "Never. That wasn't Lust."

No, it wasn't.

That was love.

"She's really talented," Mom tells everyone, like she's just realizing it for the first time. "And singing about God? I never thought I'd live to see the day."

"Pretty sure it was about sex, Mom," Rose says. "So hot," she whispers in my ear. "Jesus, kiddo."

"I don't know, Rosalie," Mom argues. "What about the angel? And all the stained glass?"

"What about all the blasphemy?" Rose counters.

Mom and Rose look to me for answers.

"It could be either? Or it's both at the same time." My eyes flick to Edward and I can't look away. "Maybe how someone feels about themself might change what they hear in the lyrics. It's just like how we see ourselves and how other people see us. It can be totally different, almost opposite, but each perspective is still right. Both good and bad, saintly and sexy."

Edward looks overwhelmed. Like he has something to say but has no idea how to say it.

"I never..." Mom says. "How in the world did you come up with something like that?"

"Heard it somewhere," I shrug, still looking at Edward.

Rose clears her throat. She checks me with her hip, then pulls me in for a very strong, sisterly hug. "You're giving yourself away," she whispers in my ear.

Then she leans her forehead against mine. "Was it about him?"

I nod just a little. Enough for her to feel my head shake, not enough for anyone else to notice. "I just, I just…"

The whole family's watching me. Edward's watching me.

Shit. I'm going to cry.

Rose takes my hand. "Time for me to pump and dump," she announces very loudly to the crowd. She pulls me toward the restrooms.

xXxXx

In the ladies room, Rose checks each and every stall, knocking them open like she's looking for a fugitive. When she's sure we're alone, she starts pulling her arms from the straps of her dress.

"Rose?"

Before I know it I'm face to face with the prettiest pair of titties in all of Brooklyn. For the second time in less than a week, mind you. There are no excuses this time, though. Eddie's home with a sitter.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I told you." She pulls out a black tote stashed under the counter. "Don't want to kill Eddie. His liver's about as big as a lima bean."

Rose starts assembling a contraption that looks like… oh my God.

"Are you going to…" Then she starts pinching her nipples. Fluid beads at the tips. "Oh my God. Yes, yes you are."

I cover my eyes and turn my back to her.

"Listen, if you're grown up enough to have an affair with a priest, you should be able to handle the realities of breastfeeding."

"A what? With a who?" I spin around and find Rose hooked up to… ugh.

I will never have kids.

Not ever.

"Tell me everything," Rose insists. The rhythmic click and suck of the breast pump is as disturbing as it is soothing. I try not to look but it's like a traffic accident. In a topless, life-sustaining kind of way.

"First of all, I'm not having an affair," I try to explain.

"Um, yes you are."

"But I'm not."

Rose rolls her eyes. "That's not what Father Edward said."

"What?" I ask loud enough to make the stalls rattle. I think people could probably hear my question in Bay Ridge.

"You two are really bad at affairs, by the way. You may as well write it across your foreheads."

I collapse against the counter. "What in the world did he say? When?"

"He talked Emmett's ear off last night. About your style, your music, how wrong you are about comic book characters. Kept pumping him for info about you in high school."

"Oh, God. High school?" I drop my head into my hands. There's so much I haven't had a chance to tell Edward. If he heard about it from Emmett over drinks… with my dad there... Jesus.

"He couldn't get enough of Emmett's stories. Even the one about your take on Lady Gaga's meat dress. If the guy still likes you after hearing about Lady of the Lox, he's got it bad."

Suddenly my chest feels too tight. Of course he liked every story.

Sexy, loving, accepting… priest.

Rose is right. I never thought about it that way. But I am one hundred percent having an affair with a priest.

When I look up at Rose the smile falls from her face.

"Oh, baby… You've got it bad too, huh?"

I bite back my confession. I try blinking back my tears, but one renegade escapes and slides down my cheek.

"Stupid, goddamned, watery eyes," I mutter. "All fucking night long."

Rose brushes the tear away. Like a mom who cares. "It's probably good you're getting out of here."

"Yes… No." I shake my head and start to really cry and Rose pulls me into her arms.

"He's helped me so much. I don't know how I'm supposed to leave him behind. But staying doesn't make any sense either."

I cling to her for support.

"Shh, baby," she hums. "I know."

"I've never, Rose. You know? Like ever. And now..."

Rose rocks a little as she rubs my back. "I figured it was just sex."

"I can't even imagine that. With him. Not when... not when not having sex feels like this."

She lets me cry until my tears run dry. Until my breathing evens out. Until I'm calm and quiet enough that the rhythmic shuddering and clicking of the breast pump against my boobs reminds me that I'm hugging my topless, lactating sister in a public restroom.

I let her go and step back. I try to look everywhere except her glorious chest as she turns the machine off and pulls it all apart.

"I always knew that when you fell in love, it'd be hard," she tells me. "I just never imagined you'd fall for a priest."

I stare in the mirror and wipe smeared mascara from underneath my eyes. "I figured -"

"Alice," we say together.

"Right? Her and Father are thick as thieves. I was sure for a while." Rose pours herself back into her dress and smoothes it down.

There's no fixing my hair, but I give it a try. I start pulling at the hairpins when we hear people just outside the restroom.

"He was totally hitting on you," someone says from the other side of the door.

"Once a sleazeball, always a sleazeball. You know he was cheating on her until -"

The door swings open and Rachel and Rebecca, two of Angela's bridesmaids, stop in their tracks. Rebecca's mouth drops open. Rachel hangs just behind her sister.

I narrow my eyes. "It probably won't take me three tries to guess the sleazeball in question."

Rachel's head drops into her hands.

"Yeah, probably not," Rebecca says. "You and the douche go way back."

Rose practically growls. "You too?" she asks Rachel as she dumps out two little bottles of breast milk into the sink.

"Only because I blew him off," Rebecca tells us. "Can't you two talk some sense into Angie?"

"Don't look at me," I tell her, holding up my hands. I did my part and practically tore the family apart in the process.

Rose shakes her head. "I really hoped he'd changed. He told Emmett he turned over a new leaf after he had to get his hand stitched up."

I cringe. "Emmett talked to Ben about me?"

"Emmett talked to Ben about Angela, you idiot."

"It's not all about me," I mumble to myself.

"With Ben Cheney it's about anyone with two tits and a pair of legs," Rachel agrees.

"How are you supposed to stand up there with her tomorrow?" Rebecca asks her sister. "I just don't -"

The restroom door swings open and Angela stands in front of the four of us.

"- get it," Rebecca says, finishing the sentence. "Hey, Ang!"

Rebecca smiles cheerfully. Rachel stares at the ceiling. Rose looks like she's ready to fight someone. My sister's eyes flick from one person to the next, until she's left glaring at me. Then she turns and the door slams shut.

Rachel's face drains of color. "Oh my God."

"Do you think she heard?" I ask Rose, who's practically throwing all the pump supplies into the tote bag.

Rebecca starts laying into her sister. Rose and I dash out of the bathroom, but Angela's nowhere in sight. The lights are low, the tables have all been pushed to the side, couples sway in the center of the room as some ballad or another Alice is singing comes to an end.

"Rosie!" Emmett calls over the mic. "There you are, babe! Just in time for our song."

"Em, I don't think -"

"We planned this," Alice hisses as she jumps down from the stage. "You promised."

"I'll find her, Rose. You go ahead," I tell my older sister.

Rose squeezes my hand and rolls her eyes at Alice, before making her way toward her husband at the front of the room. I don't see Angela anywhere as the first notes of Islands in the Stream are piped over the loudspeakers.

"Rosie and I sang this at our rehearsal dinner," Emmett tells everyone. "Figured it turned out so good we'd sing it for Angie and Ben."

He gazes into his wife's eyes and any hint of annoyance fades from Rose's face. Her fingers seem to cling to his a little longer than necessary as he hands her the extra mic. She relaxes against him as his arm slides protectively around her waist.

"Baby when I met you there was peace unknown…"

Any other day of my life I'd die laughing at Emmett impersonating Kenny Rogers. Tonight I'm caught up in how much they love one another. I used to take it for granted. But if they feel half of what I do for Edward, and they get to spend their lives together…

"Stupid fucking tears," I mutter, wiping at my eyes again. If Angela feels like this for Ben, she needs all the help she can get. I take one more look around the restaurant, then make a beeline for the exit. I don't get far before someone grabs my arm.

"You don't have to leave just because Jacob's not here."

I spin around to face my mom.

"That's not it," I try to explain.

Mom knows what I'm trying to hide better than I do. She pays close attention to my eyes. "I'm sure you'll find someone soon. Someone who can appreciate you. Who gets you." Mom's trying to be kind. I know this, but it still cuts like a knife. Not to mention, I have a missing sister to find.

Mom scans the room, then her eyes light up. "Father!"

"Oh, Mom… no."

"I'm sure he'd do us a favor. He's such a good man."

He is. He's the best man. He's the man a freakin' bishop told me I'd ruin. He's the man I think about all the fucking time. He's the man heading this way.

"You need something, Renee?" Edward asks.

He's talking to Mom, but he can't take his eyes off me. His face looks flushed, but I don't think it's from liquor. He's been holding a glass of water in his hand all night long.

"Would you dance with Bella? Jacob's working at Billy's and she's got no one tonight."

Edward rolls his eyes a little at Mom's mention of Jake. But then he glances at the floor with a smirk before his eyes meet mine. "I'd be happy to."

It's the fucking look.

"You do something to me that I can't explain…" Rose sings in a shaky falsetto.

I clutch my mom's arm for support. Giggles erupt from my mouth because I'm stupidly, ridiculously excited to dance with Edward to Emmett and Rose's rendition of an 80's classic.

"I told you he would," Mom whispers in my ear loud enough for the whole room to hear.

She plucks the glass from Edward's hands and gives me a peck on the cheek. "Thank you, Father. I'm going to get them to wrap up some eggplant parm for Bella to take home. It's her favorite."

Edward and I eye one another awkwardly. Then he reaches for me, and it's like I don't have a choice. In his arms, everything clicks into place. My waist was made for the flex of his fingers. His shoulder was made for my hand to hold. He's not a dancer, but he leads me as we sway.

"You look like you were heading somewhere before Renee got a hold of you," he murmurs in my ear.

"Angie seem okay to you?" I ask.

He narrows his eyes. "She doesn't seem okay to you?"

"Angela and 'okay' do not belong in the same sentence." I scan the room for the millionth time. "Did you see her?"

Edward spins me around, forcing my eyes back to him. "I think Angela's more okay than most people give her credit for."

"Your faith's way off tonight. Maybe you lose some of your powers without the collar."

Not that I mind the sports coat, pale blue button down and the tie hanging a little loose around his neck.

"I don't know. I think it's pretty spot on. You're in my arms, aren't you?"

I can't argue with that.

"All this love we feel needs no conversation…" Rose and Em sing together. Their harmonizing is… something.

"Don't worry too much about Angela," he tells me. "I think she'll let someone know if she needs help."

He seems confident, but I get the feeling he's trying to convince the both of us. I can't blame him. He does have to marry them tomorrow.

He brushes some stray hair behind my ear and looks into my eyes, and I forget about my sister. It's suddenly like we're the only two people here. Like we have all the time in the world to just dance.

"Your teasing skills have improved. You've managed to drive me insane tonight." He peeks down at my sweater. "I have a confession."

I swallow nervously. I know a thing or two about his confessions.

"Right here?" I ask. "You sure?"

His eyes look like he's laughing, but his jaw is tense. His hands grip my waist more firmly. "The night you wore this, I dreamt about taking it off you."

"Yeah?"

He leans in to whisper. "And don't get me started on the skirt."

I bite back a moan. My forehead falls against his shoulder.

"I'm not the best dancer," he admits. "But I'd say yes to about anything if it means I get to touch you."

"I wish I had time to teach you," I tell him. "I think you'd be good at it."

I decide to let him figure out on his own whether I mean dancing or touching.

His smile fades and he takes a deep breath. "I've been praying for more time. It's selfish. I don't think it's the type of prayer God answers."

"Were you praying tonight?" I ask. "Because I'm pretty sure He took the night off. Not that I was..."

He smiles. It's smug. And he tries to look around like it's no big deal. "You were totally praying."

"Was not," I lie. I can't look at him when I do it, so I snuggle closer.

"Four Hail Mary's for fibbing," he tells me as he swings me around again. He's joking. I think.

"Go figure. You don't even need a dark, dank box. Not when you've got a good priest."

Stupid tears burn my eyes. I press my face into Edward's shoulder.

We sway back and forth. It feels like Emmett and Rose are on their fourth chorus, but I know the song can't go on forever. I don't want to waste this dance crying. Not when it might be the only time we have to dance together. When I'm pretty sure my eyes are dry, I try my best at smiling.

"You come to these things for the free drinks?" I ask.

Edward chuckles. "After last night I don't ever want to see a drink again."

"For the music, then?" I nod to Rose and Emmett on the little stage. They're nose to nose, her hand on his hip, his hand on her cheek, singing completely out of tune.

"Not exactly who I'd like to hear sing."

I feel my cheeks blush.

"Right, right… I almost forgot about Fergie."

Edward spins me and catches me in his arms, holding me a little closer. He bites his lip as he lays the look on me. My legs feel a little weak.

"Fergie didn't write a song for me," he says with a chuckle. "Or two?"

"She would." I pull away from him a little so I can look him over. I hum my approval. "She definitely would."

Edward's cheeks go pink. He pulls me closer, his arm tight around my waist. "Besides, I don't know Fergie."

I squeeze his shoulder. "Maybe someday. If you're lucky."

Edward shakes his head slowly. "I only have eyes for one rock star."

"Emily? Mariah?"

"You, Bella. You're all I need. You're more than enough."

"That's not true though."

I search his eyes. They're wide open. Clear. He looks damn near untroubled. I envy his faith, even though it's one of the reasons we can't be together.

"You don't just have a job, you have a calling," I try to explain. "And you're so good at it."

"Maybe it's not enough anymore."

His words send a shiver down my spine. As much as I want to hear them, I remember Bishop Whitlock's warning. I'm scared to death he's going to do something just for me.

I try really hard not to encourage him because this is bigger than me.

It shouldn't be about me.

It's not all about me. I couldn't live with myself if it were.

"You still want it though, right? The priesthood? The parish?"

"A couple of weeks ago, I wouldn't have had any doubts."

"But you do now?"

He bites his bottom lip as he stares into my eyes.

"I hope I figure it out."

"I hope you do too." I lean my head on his shoulder as we sway.

His arms tighten around me. I relax and try to memorize the way he feels. Solid and so strong, but gentle as he holds me.

I hope, too. I hope I can be careful with him. I hope nothing gets in the way of him helping people like he's helped me. I hope I can remember how much he cares, so after I leave, I can care about myself just as much. So I can remember how much I mattered and how good it made me feel. So I can remember how my heart grew enough to love and did the best it could.

I hope I do the right thing.

The song ends. People clap and whistle. I want to hold onto Edward tighter. My fingertips dig in where I hold him. And then I let him go.

Edward looks like he's about to ask me something when my mom cuts in and asks him to dance. He seems genuinely happy to oblige. Like he's the son she never had.

xXxXx

I finally find Angela sitting on the curb in front of the restaurant. Her arms are wrapped around her knees. Her chin rests against her chest. She's a shadow of the triumphant bride I saw in the church earlier in the evening.

I take a seat next to her. Not too close, since I'm probably the last person she wants to see.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Got a smoke?" she asks.

"I don't think smoking's so good for the bun you've got in the oven."

Angela rolls her eyes. "Thanks. I'm a nurse. I would know."

"Right. Jesus. If you're sure."

She's quiet as I rummage through my purse, pull out a cigarette, and try to find my lighter. I'm not excited to strike up a conversation. I can't think of a thing to say that I haven't already.

I watch the passing cars as I hold out the lighter. One puff and Angela doubles over coughing, practically retching.

She holds the lit cigarette away from her body. Her face is a pale shade of green.

"Christ on a cracker." She coughs. "Why do people like this?"

"I don't think anyone can help what they like. Who they like. You know?"

Rose loves Emmett. Alice loves Jane. I love Edward.

Angela loves Ben. She always has.

Hearts are stupid things.

Angela nods her head. She tries the cigarette again. She coughs again.

Dear God, shouldn't someone else be here with Angela right now? Anyone else?

I've forgotten it's Friday night, though. Vacation night for the Big Guy. There's not another person in sight.

I light a cigarette of my own, but make a point to blow the smoke away from my sister.

"This, uh, baby," she says, looking down at her midsection. "Shit, there's a baby growing inside me, Bella."

Angela looks at me and she seems scared, like she's thinking of making a run for it. But you can't get away from something that's literally attached to you.

I can imagine how she feels. I'm not even sold on the breast stuff. Not to mention acting like an incubator for a little human with gills and then pushing it out of your vagina.

"I get it," I tell her. "It must be weird."

Angela pushes some hair behind her ear. "You have no idea. This baby's going to have to be tough. Tough enough to handle one cigarette."

I pluck the cig from my sister's hand and crush it under the heel of my boot.

"You're one tough cookie, Ang. You don't have to smoke a cigarette to prove your unborn kid's chops."

Angela smiles. A few tears fall from the corner of her eye. "You're… I hated you," she tells me.

"Ha!"

"Don't tell me the feeling wasn't mutual, Bella."

And, no. I can't honestly tell her that.

"I hated the way Mom and Dad had to worry about you," I say instead. It's the truth. "I hated how they cried about you at night when they thought we were all asleep."

"Did you hope I died?" she asks.

"What?" I sputter.

"It's okay. I did sometimes. So Mom and Dad wouldn't have to be sad anymore."

"Oh, Ang." I reach out to hold her hand.

"You had everything I wanted, Bella. Everything I loved."

I'm not going to argue with her. I could, but I won't. Not tonight.

"Now you've got it. Right, Ang? Love… it's a lot to have."

I speak from the heart. Love is more than I ever knew, even though I don't get to keep it. Maybe it could be the same for her.

"Yeah, I guess," she tells me.

She holds my hand in silence while I finish my cigarette. I let it burn its way to the filter, then there's nothing left to do but put it out.

"Thanks for trying to be a good sister." She says it so quietly I almost don't hear it over the rush of the cars on the parkway. "I'm sorry. Like really sorry. For the record."

I squeeze her hand. "I'm not keeping score."

"'Cause I'd be winning?"

I pull my hand from hers. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Then I give her a hug. This time Angela is the one holding on a little too long. A little too much.

"Tell everyone I said goodnight?" I ask. "I'll see them tomorrow morning. Bright and shining. Big day and all."

"Okay, Bella. Goodnight."


Song courtesy iambeagle: acoustic version of Borns' Holy Ghost. 

 

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