Mechanics and Mistletoe Update

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I woke up, smiling and sore. Delightfully sore from a full night of love making and dreams coming true. I sighed, reaching behind me, expecting to feel the warm, muscular body of Edward. Instead, I felt cold sheets. I sat up, frowning and upset that he was gone. I curled up, holding his pillow to my chest. I flopped back down and saw a paper on the nightstand. Picking it up, I saw Edward’s neat block writing.

My dear Bella,

I hated to leave you this morning. I wanted nothing more than hold you and keep you forever. However, your car will not miraculously unbury itself from the snow. I’ll be back as soon as possible, beautiful. Please, don’t be upset with me. It killed me to leave you.

Thank you for the best Christmas present I’d ever received … I wasn’t alone.

Yours,

Edward

Tears splashed onto the paper. My solitude was self-made, where his was due to his circumstances. His mom died and his father took his own life almost four years later, unable to cope with his wife’s death. He didn’t have anyone. I wiped my cheeks and got out of bed. I went poking in Edward’s closet. He didn’t have much. Most of his clothing was utilitarian, worn and stained with grease from his work. However, it smelled of his detergent and something that was inherently Edward. I found a long-sleeved Henley and a pair of boxer briefs. I put those on, along with a pair of wool socks. Padding to the kitchen, I made some coffee and went rooting around in his fridge and cupboards. He didn’t have much and that made me sad. However, he did have bread, eggs, milk and syrup. I also found some bacon. I began making French toast, bacon and eggs.

As I was finishing up with breakfast, I heard the garage open and the loud beeping of the tow truck backing up. I made a plate for Edward, carrying it to the small dining table in the breakfast nook. I walked down the steps, seeing Edward and grimacing when I saw the damage to my car. The entire bottom was hanging off the car. Ugh. “Is it fixable?” I asked.

Edward looked up, tugging off his beanie and tossing a pair of sunglasses into the truck. “I can fix it for you, beautiful, but it won’t be done today,” he answered, a shy, crooked smile spreading over his face. “I have to really look at the damage, order the necessary parts and such.”

“I definitely want you to fix it,” I said. “I trust you, Edward.”

“Thank you,” he said, twisting his hat.

“I made breakfast,” I murmured, walking down the stairs and grabbing his hand, which was frigidly cold, thanks to the winter wonderland outside. “You must be hungry.”

“Breakfast?” he chuckled. I nodded and dragged him into his apartment. He smiled softly, seeing the meal I’d prepared. “It’s been a long time since I had a home-cooked meal. I can’t cook, really.”