Midnight Sun (The Twilight Saga #5) - Stephenie Meyer Page 0,287

I had to learn the strength.

I prayed to her God with all the anguish of my damned, lost soul that he—or she, or it—would help me protect Bella from myself.

29. INEVITABILITY

ALICE HAD SEEN THE MOMENT WHEN BELLA WOULD FINALLY OPEN HER eyes. There were practical reasons why I needed to have some time alone with her before she spoke to anyone else; Bella knew nothing of our cover actions. Of course, Alice or Carlisle could have handled this, and Bella was bright enough to feign amnesia until she could get her story straight, but Alice knew I needed more than just to clear up the narrative.

Over the hours of waiting, Alice had introduced herself to Renée, and then proceeded to charm her until they were now close confidantes, in Renée’s head, at least. It was Alice who convinced Renée to go have lunch at the perfect time.

This was just after one o’clock in the afternoon. I’d had the blinds closed against the morning sun, but I’d be able to crack them soon. The sun was on the other side of the hospital now.

Once Renée was gone, I pulled my chair close to Bella’s bed, resting my elbows on the edge of the mattress next to her shoulder. I didn’t know if she would have felt the time passing, or if her mind would still be back in that accursed room of mirrors. She would need reassurance, and I knew her well enough to be sure that my face would comfort her. For good or ill, I put her at ease.

She started to fidget right on schedule. She’d moved before, but this was a more concentrated effort. Her forehead creased when her efforts caused her pain, and the little stress v appeared between her brows. As I had so often wanted to do, I brushed softly across that v with my index finger, trying to erase it. It faded slightly, and her eyes started to flutter. The beeping of her heart rate monitor accelerated slightly.

Her eyes opened, then closed. She tried again, squinting against the brightness of the overhead lights. She looked away, toward the window, while her eyes adjusted. Her heart was beating faster now. Hands struggling with the monitor lines, she reached for the tubing under her nose, obviously meaning to remove it. I caught her hand.

“No you don’t,” I said quietly.

As soon as she heard my voice, her heart started to slow.

“Edward?” She couldn’t turn her head as far as she wanted. I leaned closer. Our eyes met, and hers, still dotted with red, started filling with tears. “Oh, Edward, I’m so sorry.”

It hurt in a very specific and piercing kind of way when she apologized to me.

“Shhh,” I insisted. “Everything’s all right now.”

“What happened?” she asked, her forehead wrinkling as though she was trying to solve a riddle.

I’d had my answer planned. I’d thought through the gentlest way to explain. Instead, my own fears and remorse came flooding through my lips.

“I was almost too late. I could have been too late.”

She stared at me for a long moment, and I watched as the memories returned. She winced, and her breathing accelerated. “I was so stupid, Edward. I thought he had my mom.”

“He tricked us all.”

Urgency had her brows pulling together. “I need to call Charlie and my mom.”

“Alice called them.” She’d taken over for Carlisle, and now she chatted with Charlie several times a day. Like Renée, he was entirely bewitched. I knew Alice had been planning the post-wakeup call. She was excited it would happen today. “Renée is here—well, here in the hospital. She’s getting something to eat right now.”

Bella shifted her weight as if she was about to lurch out of bed. “She’s here?”

I caught her shoulder and held her in place. She blinked a few times, looking around herself, dizzy.

“She’ll be back soon,” I assured her. “And you need to stay still.”

This didn’t calm her the way I’d intended. Her eyes were panicked. “But what did you tell her? Why did you tell her I’m here?”

I smiled slightly. “You fell down two flights of stairs and through a window.”

Given the way both her parents had accepted our story—not just that it was possible, but that it was somehow to be expected—I felt justified in adding, “You have to admit, it could happen.”

She sighed, but she seemed calmer now that she knew the alibi. She stared down at her sheet-covered body for a few seconds.

“How bad am I?” she asked.

I listed off the larger injuries.