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By
the following morning, Edward had a raging migraine and was particularly testy.
He snapped at Bella more often than not and by mid-morning, she’d had enough.
With a scowl, she left, looking a little worse for wear and Edward was again,
alone in his too-big house.
However, he wasn’t alone for long. He was laying in his bed, trying to get rid of his headache, when he heard the door slam open. Dragging his sore and hungover body out of bed, he was surprised to see Emmett and Jasper standing in his foyer, the door almost hanging off its hinges. “Do I need to call the cops?” Edward snarled. “You just broke into my house.”
“You got lucky,” Jasper said. “And we can fix this, but you got fucking lucky, Masen.”
“Explain?” Edward asked, sitting down on the steps and trying to quell the throbbing in his head.
“One of Demetri’s coworkers explained that he was married to your ex-fiancée,” Emmett said. “And that they’re expecting their first child. Apparently, he acted like a dick to you.” He grumbled, closing the door and making mental note of the supplies needed to fix it. “Are you going to tell us what the fuck happened? You don’t go off half-cocked like that …”
“You want the story?” Edward growled.
“If it’ll help us understand that fight, yes,” Jasper said. “You were unhinged, Edward. Why were you so fucked up?”
“Let me make some coffee and get some ice. My face hurts,” he grumped. He stomped to the kitchen and turned on his Keurig. He gestured to his friends and they nodded.
“Well, you had a hot doc to take care of you, it would seem,” Jasper teased, waggling his brows. “Alice said that Bella didn’t come home last night.”
“She made sure I didn’t slip into a coma. She woke me up every couple of hours. She also stitched me up,” Edward said, shrugging nonchalantly.
“That woman deserves flowers or something. She put up with your cranky ass,” Emmett snorted.
“Yeah, Alice sent me a text saying that Bella hates you and that you’re worst fucking patient on the planet,” Jasper guffawed. “Did you even thank her for helping you?”
Edward had the decency to look abashed. “No, I didn’t.”
“I hope you do because according to Ali, she’s on a rampage,” Jasper said, reading the texts from his girlfriend. “You may not be male for very much longer if Bella had her way.”
“I’ll talk to her,” Edward whispered, feeling badly for being a first-class dick to Isabella. She had been a consummate professional and was clearly concerned for him. “Please, just tell your girlfriend to give me a chance to make it up to her, to B-B-Bella, that is.”
“If she’ll let you,” Jasper snickered.
Edward finished brewing the coffee and put out the mugs for his friends. “I don’t have any creamer or sugar. Black is your only option,” he said. They shrugged, used to drinking coffee without any adornment. The shit they served in the station was a step up from toxic sludge. Edward poured himself a mug, taking two Tylenol and gesturing to the living room. They sat down on the couch and Edward was assaulted, even through his broken nose, by Isabella’s sweet perfume. He sipped his coffee.
“You
have your coffee. Now, explain,” Emmett said, leaning forward.
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