Midnight Sun (The Twilight Saga #5) - Stephenie Meyer Page 0,300

spoke away from the phone. “Here, Tyler, it’s for you.”

Bella was staring at my face, worried about what was happening between her father and me. She didn’t notice the bright red car that suddenly swerved around us. I ignored Rosalie’s pleasure at passing me—I always ignored Rosalie now—and concentrated on the call.

The boy’s voice broke as he said, “Yeah?”

“Hello, Tyler, this is Edward Cullen.” My tone was perfectly polite, though it took a little work to keep it that way. As entertained as I’d been just a moment ago, a sudden flare of territorial feelings now swamped me. It was an immature reaction, but I couldn’t deny I felt it.

Bella sucked in a sharp breath. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye and then looked back to the road. If she had—somehow—been in earnest before, she was no longer in the dark.

“I’m sorry if there’s been some kind of miscommunication, but Bella is unavailable tonight,” I said to Tyler.

“Oh,” he responded.

The jealous, protective instinct persisted and my response was stronger than it should have been.

“To be perfectly honest, she’ll be unavailable every night, as far as anyone besides myself is concerned. No offense. And I’m sorry about your evening.”

Though I knew the words were wrong to say, I couldn’t help smiling at the thought of how Tyler was receiving them. And what he would feel when I saw him at school on Monday. I hung up the call and turned to assess Bella’s reaction.

Bella’s face was bright red and her expression was furious.

“Was that last part a bit too much?” I worried. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

It had been a very domineering kind of thing to say, and while I was fairly positive that Bella had no interest in Tyler, it wasn’t really my place to make that decision for her.

What I’d said was wrong in other ways, too, but not in a way that I thought would upset her.

Though she’d never demanded another promise from me since the hospital, there was always the undercurrent of her doubt. I’d been forced to find a way to balance her need for assurance against my inability to deceive her.

I was taking our relationship one day at a time, one hour at a time. I didn’t look into the future. It was enough that I could feel it coming. When I promised her forever now, I meant as far as I could see. And I wasn’t looking.

“You’re taking me to the prom!” she shouted.

She really hadn’t known. I didn’t know what to do with that. What else could we be doing in formal attire in Forks tonight?

And now there were actual tears brimming in her eyes and she had one hand clenched around the door handle as though she wanted to throw herself from the car rather than face the horror of a high school dance.

Unobtrusively, I locked the doors.

I didn’t know what to say; I hadn’t imagined that she could misunderstand. So I said probably the stupidest thing possible under the circumstances.

“Don’t be difficult, Bella.”

She stared out the window like she was still thinking of jumping.

“Why are you doing this to me?” she moaned.

I pointed at my tuxedo. “Honestly, Bella, what did you think we were doing?”

She scrubbed at the tears falling down her cheeks, her face horrified. She looked like I’d just told her I’d murdered all her friends and she was next.

“This is completely ridiculous,” I pointed out. “Why are you crying?”

“Because I’m mad!” she shouted.

I considered turning around. The dance was meaningless, really, and I hated to upset her like this. But I thought of that faraway conversation in her future and held my ground.

“Bella,” I said softly.

She met my gaze and seemed to lose her grip on her fury. I still had the power to dazzle her, if nothing else.

“What?” she asked, totally distracted.

“Humor me?” I pleaded.

She stared at me for a second longer, with what looked more like adoration than ire, and then shook her head in surrender.

“Fine, I’ll go quietly,” she said, resigned to her fate. “But you’ll see. I’m way overdue for more bad luck. I’ll probably break my other leg. Look at this shoe! It’s a death trap!”

She pointed her toes in my direction.

The contrast between the thick satin ribbons laced up her narrow calf, ballet-style, and her ivory skin was beautiful in a way that transcended fashion. In this place of endless winter wardrobes, it was fascinating to see parts of her I’d never seen before. This was