I had my mind made up about Edward Cullen before I even met him. In my profession, I shouldn't be so quick to judge, but after seven years of being a pastor at a maximum security prison, my hope for mankind had significantly dwindled.
My expectations for Mr. Cullen were the same as those I had for every murderer I had encountered on death row. So when I saw him, I was surprised. Although tall in stature, he could only be described as mousey. There were no tattoos adorning his arms, and no scars marring his skin. He wore a pair of black wire-rimmed glasses and his cropped hair had a shimmer of bronze in it.
There was no denying that Mr. Cullen was an attractive man, even from the back. I had seen plenty of attractive killers in my time at the prison, but they would all be classified under the ‘bad boy' category. Mr. Cullen looked like a man you could take home to meet the parents.
I took a minute to watch him as he had not heard me arrive. He stood with his back to me, drawing with what looked like a piece of charcoal on the wall of his cell. The picture was as unexpected as his appearance. No pin-up girls or satanic symbols graced his wall, just a simple scenery picture of a forest in the setting sun. He was drawing himself a view.
He ran his hand across his head, a habit that told me he was used to having longer hair. I cleared my throat and he turned to face me. When his eyes locked onto mine I could only classify his look as pleading.
It took me a moment to reconcile this man before me with what I had learned from reading his file. As meek as he may have appeared to me, I knew he had bludgeoned a man to death with his bare hands. I looked at his long, slender fingers and wished that he had kept them pure for his art.
"Mr. Cullen," I said, nodding at him as the guard opened the door.
"I'll be right out there, Miss Swan. Call me if you need anything."
"Thank you, Mr. Black."
Mr. Cullen stood there for a moment, staring at me before taking a step back. It wasn't uncommon for an inmate to size me up or to make a lewd comment. It was the first time I had ever seen any of them take precautions for my comfort. My heart warmed to the enigma of the man before me.
I said a quick prayer in my head, hoping for wisdom and strength to help him.
"Mr. Cullen," I repeated, "I am Pastor Isabella Swan. I have been sent by the state to provide you with any counseling you may need. I assure you, anything you say will be confidential."
"Edward," he said softly.
"Pardon me?"
"Call me Edward. I appreciate you being here, Pastor Swan." His voice put me at ease; not something I was used to when behind bars.
"Okay, Edward. You may call me Bella." I was surprised by the words coming out of my mouth; I had never used such familiarities with inmates.
"All right, Bella. I'm not really sure what I am supposed to say here," he said, his honey voice polite, matching his appearance.
"Well, it is up to you. I can help you pray if you like or else we can just talk; your chance to get the truth out."
Edward scoffed at my words. It was the first time I caught a glimpse of his power and I knew he could be terrifying.
"What if I told you I didn't do it?" he asked.
He wouldn't have been the first or last to say these words to me, and yet he was the only one that I had wanted to believe. "Did you?" I asked, repeating the same question I asked them all.
"It doesn't matter. I've been judged and found guilty. I will die in two days regardless." His calmness had returned and yet I could see it was just a mask.
"Do you want to talk about that? The execution." The words left a bitter taste in my mouth.
"I wasn't afraid to live and I am not afraid to die," he said strongly.
"What do you mean by that? May I?" I asked motioning to the one chair. He nodded and then took a seat opposite from me on his cot.
"I can't regret why I am here. I did what I thought was right, just as I've always done."
"So you think you're above the law? That the rules don't apply to you?" My voice was angrier than I intended but I was sick of that response. Those men, those murderers, could explain away their actions while never taking responsibility for the lives they'd ruined. I may have misjudged him; he might not have been as clever as I first thought. I expected him to feign remorse, it was what most of them did at that point.
"You assume too much, Miss Swan." I was not sure which cut me worse, the cold tone or the use of my family name.
"Maybe," I said reluctantly. "Is there anything you would like to tell me, something about yourself, perhaps?"
His eyes appraised me for worthiness. The piercing green orbs that stared back at me made me nervous. His beauty reminded me of the devil and how he could lure the righteous with pretty promises. I was used to being frightened by the people I worked with, but the fear this time came from the trust I felt for this stunning man. Was I blinded by the sparkly surface or was there truly good in his heart?
"I like long walks on the beach and curling up by the fire." Even though his words read like a personal ad, his tone was sincere. "I play the piano but can't sing a note. I have a sister, but she passed away when I was nine. She was bullied because she was terribly small. She hung herself from the rod in her closet."
"Is that why you're here? Were you protecting someone being bullied?"
"You want an excuse, a reason to make it right. Well that would be a good one, wouldn't it?"
"So there was no reason? I'm to believe you just snapped and beat a man to death unprovoked," I said angrily.
"I think you are just supposed to believe whatever they put in that file of yours," he said, nodding to the unopened folder in my hands.
"But don't you want a chance to defend yourself? To fight!" I stood up and paced frantically. Why would he just give up like that?
"Bella," he said, resting his hand on my arm. I looked at it and he removed it quickly. "I already fought, I lost."
"So that's it?"
"What else would you have me do?"
"Edward, do you believe in God?"
"Sure, I think he and I have an understanding," he replied. I bristled at his cryptic answer; I wanted to know what he was hiding.
"What if I told you God wanted you to fight?" The words rang true as they left my lips. Did they come from God? Was that the message I was sent here to deliver, or was it just the one I wanted to be true?
"I would say he probably has better things to worry about than one man on death row."
"Edward, I won't tell anyone. I just need to know. Did you do it?"
He stared at me, the depths of his soul calling out to me to save it. To save him. I had no power to help him if he were to say he was innocent. I had no ace up my sleeve, no ‘in' with the governor. And yet the desire to see him free would surely break me if he were wrongfully accused.
He didn't answer my question; instead he placed his head gingerly into his hands and let out a shaky breath.
"I don't want to die," he said, his voice quivering with emotion.
"I know." I reached out and touched his shoulder. The contact startled him and his head shot up, his eyes locking on mine.
"Bella, I'm scared." He looked at me with the same pleading eyes I had seen when I arrived.
"What can I do?" I asked.
It was the standard question I asked all the inmates I saw. Usually they would ask for a certain book or for me to get a letter to their loved one. Edward was anything but usual and his request was one of a kind.
"Will you hold me?" I looked and saw complete vulnerability in his eyes. Had it been anyone else, I would have said no.
I stood up and joined him on the cot. I sat for a moment, allowing us both to adjust to the change in proximity. I then slid my hand across his back and captured his arm with my fingers. His body was more solid than it appeared, but it melted at my touch. Edward's shoulders hunched in and he leaned into my body. I brought my other arm around the front and completed my embrace. I could feel his body shaking before the salty tears landed on my shoulder.
We sat in our awkward hug for nearly an hour before he sat back up. My arm tingled from the blood rushing back to my fingers.
"Thank you Bella, you don't know what that meant to me. I have missed human contact so much." I wondered again how that gentle, broken man could have committed murder. I had provided him with one of the most basic needs, one I took for granted every day.
"Miss Swan," Officer Black's voice called from the cell door, "your next appointment is ready."
Edward's eyes fell to the floor as I stood to go. I turned just before I left and asked, "Would you like me to come back tomorrow?"
"That would be nice," he said, his calm persona back in place with Officer Black standing there.
I was unable to sleep that night, dreams of Edward Cullen's execution kept yanking me awake.
Many prisoners had asked me in the past to attend their executions, and while I wanted to be there for Edward if he needed me, I was unsure I could stand to watch the beautiful man die.
The next day I returned to his cell. He hadn't shaven and he looked a little more ragged than the day before. He was lying in his cot when Officer Black let me in, he went to stand but I told him to stay where he was. He looked so lost, and before I knew what I was doing, I joined him on the small bed. I lay down behind him and spooned him.
"What is it that you do?" I asked, breaking the silence.
"I work at the post office, and don't you dare make a postal worker joke." I chuckled behind him, causing my body to connect to his in even more places.
I could feel his heartbeat through his back and into my chest, the proximity making me feel flushed.
"Are you happy?" he asked me. When I didn't answer, he shifted, turning his body so that we were face to face. The small bed left no space for modesty and I tucked my legs into his to give us more room.
"Yes," I replied.
"Are you ever lonely?"
"Who isn't?" I said honestly.
"Bella, I don't have many friends, but I consider you to be one."
"Thank you."
"I would like for you to be there with me tomorrow." His words were raw and cracked as he asked me this favor.
"Anything you want," I said sincerely. I did not want to watch this man die, but if I could provide him comfort in his last moments, I would be honored to do so.
We spent the rest of the visit in silence, both contemplating the day ahead of us. I was oddly drawn to this man. And while I wanted to believe him innocent, he had made no such declaration to me.
I found myself drawn to his face. He had closed his eyes and was resting quietly. I reached my hand up and brushed his forehead softly with my fingers. Acting on instinct alone, I leaned in and placed a small kiss on his lips. He sighed in his sleep but made no other movement indicating he felt the kiss.
Horrified with myself, I slid out from my spot on the bed. I gathered my things and knocked on the door for Officer Black to let me out. My heart pounded in my chest and I refused to look back at the sleeping man before I left.
I didn't sleep again that night. Visions of the quiet man killing kept overflowing my brain. The morning sun came, threatening to take away a part of me.
There was a strange electricity in the cell when I walked in. The first thing I noticed was that he had added to his mural. A young woman who bared my resemblance was added, standing beside a tree. The outline of wings were added to her body but not completed. They would never be completed.
"Bella," Edward breathed out in relief when I came in.
"Edward," I said, dropping the pretense and hugging him.
It was then the door opened and the loud clang startled me. I panicked, I needed more time with Edward. Officer Black came in, carrying a plate of food.
"Here is your last meal, Cullen. Enjoy." His voice was snarky and mean, it was a side of Officer Black that I had never seen.
Edward walked over to the tray and surveyed his meal. "What did you get?" I asked.
"Venison," he replied, "would you like some?"
"No thank you. I save all my meat eating for after noon," I teased, but it fell flat.
Edward took a seat and bit into his meal. He hummed in satisfaction as he cleaned his plate. He then pulled the lid off his dessert. Six chocolate covered strawberries adorned the plate.
He held one out for me but I shook my head. "Those are for you Edward. You should enjoy them."
"Feeding a beautiful woman a strawberry is how I would enjoy them." My face blushed at his comment but I leaned in and accepted the juicy fruit. It was my turn to moan as the chocolate and strawberries meshed in my mouth, creating a heavenly taste.
When we were finished with the food, the guard came back to collect the dishes. He let us know that we had only ten more minutes until they would come for him. I bit back the tears.
"Can I ask you for something else?"
"Anything, Edward," I said, full of emotion.
"Will you kiss me again?" I looked at him, shocked before closing the distance and placing my lips on his.
I had kissed a man before, but I had never felt as complete as when our lips touched. The kiss was chaste by most people's standards, but it made my blood boil and my heart ache.
A guard came back in the room as we separated. "It's time," he said.
My knees felt weak and I lost the battle with my tears as I grasped at anything. I grabbed the back of the chair and held on for dear life.
"Wait," I called as he was about to leave.
Edward turned his face to me and smiled. "Yes?"
"Did you?" I asked, wishing more than anything that he would tell me.
Before he could answer, the guard swept him out of the room. Officer Black came in after and escorted me out, taking me to the small watching chamber.
I sat there alone. No one had come for Edward. No one believed he needed support but me. I knew what they were doing behind the curtain. They would be strapping him to the table and inserting the IV. The red phone on the wall would mock Edward as his only hope would be to hear it ring.
When they opened the curtain, his eyes found mine immediately. He looked lost but no longer scared. I kept my eyes in his as they pushed the button to dispense the lethal tonic.
Edward's eyes squinted when the fluids hit his system, it wouldn't take long. Edward raised his eyebrow as if to get my attention and his lips formed the answer I had been wanting. I kept eye contact with him until his became glassy and empty. I closed mine and let a silent tear fall for the man who had touched my heart.