Edward carried Bella into the back bathroom. She was quiet,
happy that they had forgiven her but still incredibly sad that she had behaved
so rashly six weeks ago. Placing her on the countertop, Edward cupped her face.
“Talk to me, love,” he whispered. “You seem upset.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, looking up at him. “I know you said
you forgive me, but I can’t apologize enough for what I did …”
“Please don’t,” Edward said, his voice stern. “No more
apologies, baby. From now on, we are only looking forward. Not backward. The
beginning of our relationship is quite unique, but I wouldn’t want it any other
way. I love you so much, Bella. Even when you broke up with both of us, my
heart shattered, but I loved you. I still love you.”
“I didn’t want to walk away,” she said, her eyes brimming with
tears. “I was just so scared. My fear made me walk away even though I loved you
more than I have loved anyone in my entire life.” She hopped off the counter
and unzipped her dress. She slid the dress off her body, revealing her naked
form. Her arms were crossed over her breasts. “After I went out to lunch with
Marcus and spoke with Garrett, I made an appointment with a tattoo artist. This
was the first one I got done.” She held up her wrist. Moving her body, angling
it to Edward, she lowered her arms to show a beautiful black tattoo under her
left breast. It was the first few lines of E.E. Cumming’s poem, “I carry your
heart”. Surrounding the wording were two sparrows and some floral accents. “I
got this because it described how I felt about you and the birds, the sparrows,
they are picky on who they mate with but they mate for life. Even if you told
me to fuck off, I knew that I would always, irrevocably be yours. I’m your
sparrow and I hoped that you would be mine.”
Bella's Tattoo, but written along her ribs, just below her breasts
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