Turmoil [Emmett Cullen] (3)

[5- Confession]

In only 2 months, we accomplished at the Bletchley house. Almost all of the outside of the house was replaced including the roof, masonry, and windows. Esme was keen to start transforming the inside, her area of expertise. The thing with restoring historic houses was it not only had to look as close to the original as possible, but it also had to be up to all modern building codes.

Esme and I didn't go to Bletchley house everyday. There was only so much we could do by just standing on the side and watching the contractors do their things. Esme was usually out procuring furniture, wallpaper, or flooring. On the days I stayed home, I was trying to create a new facial recognition software. Currently I was using the FBI's software but there were several issues with it. For starters, the algorithm used to detect facial features didn't perform well when the camera quality, angle, or lighting was bad. This software was also very limited in the sense that it could only could provide a "candidate list" of best guesses.

I was developing a new type of software that could identify faces with greater accuracy using machine learning. With my software I could not only locate people, but track their movement anywhere there were cameras. Hopefully with these improvements I could find and track vampires, since we moved much faster than humans.

A knock at the door paused my coding. It was Edward.

"Hey El, I was wondering if I could ask you something," he said, leaning against the doorframe.

"Yeah, sure. What is it?"

"Can you trace a cell number?"

"Is that even a question?"

Edward looked at me baffled for a moment.

"That was sarcasm. Of course I can." He sat down on the couch next to my desk.

"What's the number?" I asked. Edward recited the number and I typed it into my software. It worked instantaneously.

"Texas. Near Dallas. A city called Sunnyvale."

"Thank you," he said quietly before standing up.  I had so many questions. First, how did Edward even get this number? And more importantly, whose number was it?

This whole situation was weird. Edward hardly left his room. He barely talked to us or hunted. Why now? Why did he suddenly ask me to track a cell number? What was the significance? I was missing something. What happened between then and now? What was something that Edward would suddenly be interested in? Something that after 2 months of pain from his separation with Bella would motivate him to do something. And then it hit me.

"That's Victoria's number right?" Edward stopped abruptly and looked back at me, nodding slightly.

"When are you leaving?" I continued.

"I was going to tell everyone when Carlisle comes home."

I stood up and hugged him, "Be safe please. Victoria is ... dangerous. If you need me, I'll be here."

"Thanks El."

A few days after Edward had left on his 'murder mission', Emmett pulled me out a few hours later to go hunting. If he didn't, I would've been on my computer for hours. Time really did fly when I was programming. I solely focused on the lines of code in front of me. Between my software project and assisting Esme with the house, the distractions were doing their job.

Game was scarce since it was nearing the end of fall, the temperature almost at freezing during the night. Fortunately there were plenty of white tail deer and several bears who hadn't begun hibernation yet.

"While we're out here alone, I was wondering if we could talk," Emmett said.

"About what?"

"You."

"I'm fine," I lied, trying to convince myself more than him.

Emmett spoke softly, "Just because we don't say certain things, doesn't mean we don't feel them. I'm trying to give you space but I feel like I never see you. I know you, El. Seeing you like this is hurting me." That broke me. All the walls I constructed in my mind crumbled. The floodgates has been opened and there was no turning back.

My voice broke down as I spoke.

"I can't do anything right! Everything that has happened has happened because of me. First Victoria finding Bella's address and then Bella getting hurt. I should have been on my computer tracking what Victoria was doing. I should have pulled Bella out of the way, I would have got there in time. And now, because of that, we're living here, and everyone is miserable. And that's all on me."

"It's not on you. It's on all of us. Moving here wasn't your decision. We all agreed."

"That doesn't mean I can't feel guilty!"

"No, you're right; I can't force you to change the way you feel. But maybe we can work through it together." He paused. "If you were feeling this since James, why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't like being weak in front of you," I admitted meekly.

His eyes widened, "Why?"

"You're so strong."

"No. Not me. Eleanor, you are the strongest person I know. Everything you've had to overcome, it's incredible. You're the reason I want to be a better person. And since we are being honest, I miss Edward. When you spent hours training with Jasper, Edward and I would wrestle or go on hunting trips. And surprisingly I miss Bella. I miss having our family together." There was a moment of silence as Emmett's words washed over me. He was right. I know it wasn't going to be easy to get over this anger and guilt but with Emmett's help, I was willing to try.

"I know that was hard for you," he said, tucking a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.

"How did you find out?" He raised an eyebrow.

"That I was feeling this way," I elaborated.

He smiled, "You don't spend more than a decade with someone and not pick up on these things. It was the little things. You stopped playing video games and watching sports. I talked to Carlisle about it and he noticed something was off too."

Emmett continued, "We never really discussed it after Bella's birthday but we don't have to stay here if you don't want to. We can pick up where we left off. Fly down to Bogotá. Spend a couple months down there. Maybe even Europe in January. You'll love the snow." I pondered the idea before shaking my head.

"We can't. At least not now. I want to wait for everything to settle first. I owe that to Esme and Carlisle."

He nodded, then leaned in, kissing my forehead. I wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my head on his chest.

"Things will get better, they always do," he whispered.