The Man Who Can't Be Moved Ch 23 Teaser

"What's this shit you're supposedly not giving me?"

"Oh. Are you really okay? I mean, you seem fine, but honestly, the closet thing was a little weird."

"I'm all right," he said soothingly. "It's a coping mechanism, I suppose."

I nodded. "I figured. What were you worried about?"

He sighed. "Everything."

I waited for him to elaborate.

"From your safety to whether you'd panic again and I'd find you curled up into yourself like I did Monday. Fear. Plain and simple and no more rational than your fears."

I stared at him in stunned silence. "Edward Masen is afraid?" I asked incredulously.

"Of Isabella Swan," he responded bleakly.

"But why?"

"I've never been so..." He stared at the display as he searched for the right word. "Consumed by someone before. I've never been so invested in a relationship. I've never really even been my total self with a woman in over twenty years. Not since that first film."

"I don't understand," I said slowly.

He leaned forward with an intensity in his eyes I'd never seen before. "Don't you see? You're the only one I've ever let see the real me, therefore, you're the only one who could ever truly hurt me. You could choose to leave me. You could be physically harmed or worse." He swallowed convulsively.

"Edward," I whispered. "Why is it bothering you so much now?"

"Because before it was speculation. Now, it's reality. I see all the possible ways this could go wrong for us and it frightens me." He locked his serious gaze with mine. "Tell me how to get past the fear, baby. I don't know how."

This was almost too much to handle. My Edward; my smart, reasonable, sometimes extremely funny Edward was behaving like me, the inexperienced college student who didn't have anything in her life to serve as a base point for this relationship and guide her through the world of love and lust and everything that came between it.

It was sobering to be on the other end and feel the worry that went with wondering if that other person's fear would someday cause you pain, and I was suddenly so sorry for all the times I'd done it to him.

"You want to go through that display over there, don't you?" I inclined my head to the disarrayed shirts to our right.

"My fingers are itching to sort through the stock," he responded jokingly.

I giggled. "I don't have any good advice to tell you, because I'm still learning myself. I just keep pushing past it. I keep my feet firmly planted on the ground when I feel that urge to run and remind myself of everything I'd be missing out on if I left. But please remember, I love you. Even if you are half nuts."

"And I love you," he responded on a chuckle.