Breaking Dawn-3

6. DISTRACTIONS
My entertainment became the number-one priority on Isle Esme. We snorkeled (well, I
snorkeled while he flaunted his ability to go without oxygen indefinitely). We explored
the small jungle that ringed the rocky little peak. We visited the parrots that lived in the
canopy on the south end of the island. We watched the sunset from the rocky western
cove. We swam with the porpoises that played in the warm, shallow waters there. Or at
least I did; when Edward was in the water, the porpoises disappeared as if a shark was
near.
I knew what was going on. He was trying to keep me busy, distracted, so I that wouldn’t
continue badgering him about the sex thing. Whenever I tried to talk him into taking it
easy with one of the million DVDs under the big-screen plasma TV, he would lure me
out of the house with magic words like coral reefs and submerged caves and sea turtles.
We were going, going, going all day, so that I found myself completely famished and
exhausted when the sun eventually set.
I drooped over my plate after I finished dinner every night; once I’d actually fallen
asleep right at the table and he’d had to carry me to bed. Part of it was that Edward
always made too much food for one, but I was so hungry after swimming and climbing
all day that I ate most of it. Then, full and worn out, I could barely keep my eyes open.
All part of the plan, no doubt.
Exhaustion didn’t help much with my attempts at persuasion. But I didn’t give up. I
tried reasoning, pleading, and grouching, all to no avail. I was usually unconscious
before I could really press my case far. And then my dreams felt so real — nightmares
mostly, made more vivid, I guessed, by the too-bright colors of the island — that I woke
up tired no matter how long I slept.
About a week or so after we’d gotten to the island, I decided to try compromise. It had
worked for us in the past.
I was sleeping in the blue room now. The cleaning crew wasn’t due until the next day,
and so the white room still had a snowy blanket of down. The blue room was smaller,
the bed more reasonably proportioned. The walls were dark, paneled in teak, and the
fittings were all luxurious blue silk.
I’d taken to wearing some of Alice’s lingerie collection to sleep in at night — which
weren’t so revealing compared to the scanty bikinis she’d packed for me when it came
right down to it. I wondered if she’d seen a vision of why I would want such things, and
then shuddered, embarrassed by that thought.
I’d started out slow with innocent ivory satins, worried that revealing more of my skin
would be the opposite of helpful, but ready to try anything. Edward seemed to notice
nothing, as if I were wearing the same ratty old sweats I wore at home.
The bruises were much better now — yellowing in some places and disappearing
altogether in others — so tonight I pulled out one of the scarier pieces as I got ready in
the paneled bathroom. It was black, lacy, and embarrassing to look at even when it
wasn’t on. I was careful not to look in the mirror before I went back to the bedroom. I
didn’t want to lose my nerve.
I had the satisfaction of watching his eyes pop open wide for just a second before he
controlled his expression.
“What do you think?” I asked, pirouetting so that he could see every angle.
He cleared his throat. “You look beautiful. You always do.”
“Thanks,” I said a bit sourly.