Uncomplicated 3.14: Cold

Anastasia

     Edward called a little while ago and asked me to meet him here. When he'd spoken to me, he sounded upset about something, but I couldn't get out of him what. I only hope he'll tell me now. It probably has something to do with his job and that's why he chose this rarely-visited public park.

     "Hi," I say simply.
     His voice cracks as he says, "Hi." Then, he clears his throat and continues, "Doesn't the city look nice from here?"
     I turn my head and shade my eyes as I look at the city's skyscrapers. "I suppose so." My head turns back to face him. "What's up?" I ask.

     I walk around in front of him, and he looks up at me with an unreadable expression. I wonder if he's trying to translate what I said.
     "I mean what's going on?" I ask in a way he'd better understand.
     "You say some of the queerest things sometimes," he mentions in a plain voice. His eyes deliver a hard stare, and I can't decide if he's trying to keep from glaring at me, trying to memorize my face, or thinking I'm entirely too odd for him to bother with. At any rate, a feeling of dread strangely drops into my stomach. He reminds me of someone... Helen. His eyes are COLD.

     His eyes are so cold that I shiver when I take the seat next to him, not relaxing when I do. "I suppose I do. It's just further proof of how I don't fit in here." My bad feeling only grows when he doesn't correct me, irritated that I'd talk badly about myself. That tells me he agrees with what I said, and I take a deep, shaky breath.

     I can feel him looking at me, but I don't want to check and see for sure if he is. I don't want to see the cold expression in his eyes again.
     Unable to bear the quiet, I add, "It doesn't bother me too much. I didn't fit into Lucky Palms, either."
     "That must've been difficult," he mentions generically.
     Of course it was! I've mentioned that to him plenty of times. Why say something like that?
     He continues sagely, "Sometimes, life is incredibly difficult."
     I try to fill my lungs, but I can't. "I suppose so."

     He turns to look back at the city. If only he would hold my hand, something as simple as that, I would feel better, but he doesn't move except to breathe. I do the same.

     A light breeze cools us as the silence stretches out. I hear cars crossing the nearby bridge, and the distant sound of a siren reaches us. The river in front of us slowly makes its way to the ocean in a very unhurried way. Edward acts just as unhurried to tell me why he asked me out here.
     Finally, he takes a breath and says, "Thank you for coming out here. I don't like pulling you away from Wren, but I needed to talk to you."
     I cautiously turn my head. He doesn't look back at me, looking at his lap instead. "It's fine, Edward. Luke is watching her, and even when he has to leave, all Bonnie is doing is practicing her piano."
     "Well, good that Luke is with her." He stretches out his leg and pulls on his pant leg, straightening it out in a distracted way.

     He finally turns to look at me, and hurt shines through his eyes as he says, "I'm glad he's a part of her life."
     I'm dying to know why he wanted to talk to me, but still, I reply, "He likes being a dad."
     "That's good," he says, acting like he plans to say more, but he quickly snaps his head to look at the wooden boards under his feet, getting quiet.
     "I know that was your doing," I tell him. "I know that was you that shoved him into that taxi the day she was born. I know you were the reason he was there. I don't know what you told him earlier at that party, but I've guessed it had something to do with that."
     "Yes," he answers quickly. Again, he acts too choked up to say more.
     I can't stand it! "Edward, is something wrong?"
     He pauses as if he's trying to figure out how to say something. "Have you seen the paper this morning?" he asks in a leading way.
     "No. I stopped reading the paper ages ago. I'm sick of the biased gossip it puts out," I state with a trace amount of venom.

      "I'm glad you've stopped reading it," he states sadly. "Unfortunately, I've had to work hard to stay in its good graces with my campaign running. That's no walk in the park, let me tell you."
      "I understand," I say quietly. "But your campaign is over; you won."
      "Yes, but now, I have to keep working so that I'm not thrown out of office."
      "The press has too much power," I state.
      "It does, but that's the way things are. They guide the opinions of their readers, and most of the city does read the paper. If you had, you would see that my mayoral victory is on the first page. On the bottom of the first page, however, it features a shot of you leaving my house very late last night." He stops talking, and I still see pain in his eyes.
      "I don't care," I say resolutely.

      "I have to care," he says so quietly that it's almost a whisper. "If I'm going to be able to accomplish my goals as mayor, I need the people's support."
      I get the strange sensation like I'm not really in my own body, and my skin gets a hum to it as the implication of his words slowly sinks in. "You... You invited me over last night."
      Still very quiet, he says, "I know. I'm sorry."
      My breathing picks up speed. "You're saying you're sorry you invited me over?!"

      "I need to cancel tonight," he replies, saying that instead of answering my question. He closes his eyes and turns away.
      This isn't happening! I close my own eyes. "To... to reschedule some other time?" After he was BEGGING me the other night that it would drive him crazy to wait that long.
       He lets out a puff of air. "No," he answers, and my once-again carefully constructed world crashes down around my ears.
       I put my face in my hands. "Because of what the newspaper said."
       "In a way, yes," he answers stoically.
       How can he do this to me?! How can he suddenly change his tune?

      I stand up and spin around angrily. "You said that didn't matter! You said you didn't care what they all thought!"
      "That was before I realized how this job works," he says, acting like he's in pain.
      "You said... You said that they didn't matter." My heart cracks. "You said I mattered more to you than what everyone else thought!" My face falls. Then, I choke out, "You said you loved me."
       "Ana..."
       I interrupt. "Well, this just proves you really are a politician. Such a smooth liar you are!" I turn to go, a hole forming in my chest.

     "Ana!" he cries out and grabs hold of my arm.
     "No!" I yell, trying to pull my arm free. I don't even want to look at him.
     "Please. You have to understand that-"
     "Oh, I 'understand' plenty!" I roar and jerk my arm free. Then, I start running.
     "Ana!" he calls out again, and I feel a breeze near my arm as he tries, but fails, to catch me again.

     I put all my efforts into just getting away from him. I hear his footsteps stop, but I don't turn around. I just want to go home. Behind me, I hear Edward let out what sounds like a huffing sob, but I keep going. If he's hurting from what he said, it's his fault.