I was scouring my immaculate kitchen. I was so fucking angry at my brother that if I didn’t do something productive, I was going to go bat shit crazy, or kick my brother’s ass. So, I was therapy cleaning. Jasper was already here, jamming with Edward in the family room. We were just waiting for Emmett and Rose. However, from the bitchy text I received from Rosalie, I doubted she wanted anything to do with her husband.
She was so over it.
Hell, we all were.
I heard the door rattle and I put down my handy-dandy bottle of bleach. Rose walked in, looking immaculate and ready to kill. “Hey, Rose,” I said, arching a brow. “No bloodshed on my hardwood floors.”
“I’ll save the maiming for our house, but I wanted to be here to hear what you guys had to say,” she said coldly. I knew she was throwing up her walls, acting like the standoffish bitch I’d met so many years ago in my dorm room of Emerson University. The girl who had her innocence stolen away by five monsters during her freshman year at Northwestern University. I knew better, though. She was trying not to let the hurt show. I walked over to her, wrapping my arms around her neck and she crumbled. She sobbed for a few moments before stepping back, dabbing her eyes with some tissues.
“Sorry. I’m just so angry with him. I’ve called my parents and I’m this close to flying back to be with them. I can’t be in a relationship like this, Bells. I just can’t.”
“Nor should you have to be,” I said, rubbing her arm. “I’m honestly shocked at Emmett’s behavior, really.”
“I’m not,” she muttered. “Ever since you guys started to really hit it big, Emmett wanted more. He lived for the limelight, really.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. We sat down at our kitchen table. I poured us both a cup of coffee. Rose spiked hers with some alcohol she had in a flask from her purse.
“Emmett only mentioned it when he was really drunk, but he’s jealous of you and Edward. You and he get all of the attention while Emmett just played the drums. He wanted to be noticed and not for just his music skills. That’s when he started the partying,” Rose said, her face bright red.
“He thinks that acting like a fool is going to make us, make him …” I trailed off, trying to understand my brother’s logic. “My brother’s an idiot.”
“I didn’t marry him for his brains, that’s for sure,” Rose quipped wryly. “I just miss him. My Emmett. Not the fame whore.”
I snorted humorlessly. “That’s a perfect description,” I deadpanned.
Bella and Edward's kitchen