Title: Love Story
Genre: Romance
Rating: PG right now. May change to M during later chapters
Characters: Edward/Bella, All other cannon pairings
Summary: After an unplanned chain of events, Bella finds herself back in the town her mother had fled from when she was just a baby. She wasn't exactly sure how she'd ended up in the dismal little town, but a chance encounter with a Cullen proves that fate had something bigger and better than she ever could have imagined in store. Bella POV.

Love Story

Prologue

I was really beginning to wonder whether or not I had suffered some sort of brain damage. Really. I had fallen down enough times in my life to actually be able to seriously entertain the thought. A person could only fall down so many times before their brain became permanently addled. Right? That was the decision I had made as I took a good, hard look around the small bedroom.

"I know it's not much but–"

"It's fine, dad," I interrupted, cringing inwardly.

"It'll suit you until you can get yourself a good apartment." I forced myself to nod. I knew I should be grateful. After all, I hadn't seen Charlie since the summer before I turned fourteen. It had been almost eight years since I'd set foot in this dreary little town. I wasn't surprised that he'd opened me back with open arms. I was his little girl. No matter how many years passed, or how uncomfortable either of us were with that thought, it would never change. Unfortunately, nothing around this dismal little town had changed either. "Not that I'm rushing you out or anything, Bells. You know you're welcome here anytime."

Again, I felt myself cringe. "I know dad," I said. "I really appreciate you letting me move back here. For awhile, anyway," I amended.

"Well," Charlie said, hesitating slightly, "I'll leave you to get settled. I think I'll go see about dinner. I'm pretty limited in what I can do, but do you have any requests?"

"Don't go through any trouble," I warned. "We can just grab a pizza or something."

"A girl after my own heart," he said, giving me a cautious smile. I watched as he turned to go before I looked back at my unpacked suitcase, silently dreading the task at hand. "Bella?" I turned, not expecting to see him still standing there.

"Yeah dad?"

He hesitated again. "I know you said this is just temporary. But I'm glad you're back."

Unable to find the words, I offered up a weak smile. As much as I wanted to return the sentiment, I couldn't. I wasn't glad to be back in Forks, and I wasn't going to do him the disservice of lying to him. He deserved better than that. He also deserves better than a family that ran off on him. Twice, I reminded myself.

I had been just under a year old when my mom packed us up and left. I don't think she was running away from Charlie as much as she was running away from Forks. She had never been cut out for a small town life, believing that she had been meant for something bigger, something better than this. Unfortunately for Charlie, she believed herself to be meant for something better than him as well.

I'm not quite sure when it happened, but apparently, I had come to the same conclusion and as soon as I was old enough to make the decision, I decided that I had had enough of summers in Forks. So how I'd ended up back here, I wasn't really sure. After all, ever since I was a small thing, it had been ingrained in my mind that a place like Forks, Washington was a place you ended up. Not a place you voluntarily settled.

"You aren't settling, Bella," I reminded myself softly. "This is just temporary." I crossed the room to the window that looked out over the street below. The streetlights had already come on, illuminating the slick road below as a gentle rain fell over Forks. With a sigh, I leaned my head forward, resting my forehead against the cool glass. In the house across the street, I could see shadows moving against the curtains. "How many other people in this town thought this was just a temporary stop too?"

xoxoxoxox

It had taken me the better part of the evening to unpack my things and by the time I had managed to drag myself downstairs to the kitchen, the pizza had long gone cold and my father was nowhere to be found. I helped myself to a slice before I headed into the living room, where I found Charlie resting in his favorite chair.

"Sorry you had to eat alone."

I think my voice must have startled him. He jumped ever-so-slightly in the chair before he turned his head in my direction. When he realized there was no threat, I saw him visibly relax. It must be one of those cop things. "It's fine," he said, shrugging casually. "I've had a lot of practice. Did you get everything put away?"

"Yeah," I said, moving over to the couch as I took a bite of my rubbery pizza. "I think I'm going to have to get some new curtains tomorrow though. The streetlight hits right through the window at night."

"Sorry about that. I thought about picking some up, but I figured you might want to pick out your own curtains. I'm not exactly sure of your style. Feel free to rearrange the room to your liking."

"Oh no," I said with a shake of my head. "I'm hoping I won't be here–" I stopped abruptly, the thought hanging unfinished in the air. I could tell by his expression, however, that there was no doubt in his mind exactly what it was I was thinking. "I'm sorry," I said softly. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful or–"

"You don't have to do that Bell," he said quietly. "You don't have to apologize."

I could feel a slight flush creep onto my cheeks, and suddenly, I found myself wanting to escape the room. "I uhh… I think I'm going to head up to bed. It's been a pretty long day." He nodded, but this time, his eyes never left the television screen. "Goodnight dad."

"'Night Bell." I stood from the couch and for a moment, debated hugging him but thought better of it. I turned to the leave the room when his quiet voice stopped me once more. "I know you aren't thrilled about being back in Forks. But I'm not expecting you to pretend otherwise just to preserve my feelings or anything."

"I know dad," I said. And with that, I crossed the room and leaned over the chair to offer him an awkward, one-armed hug. "And while I'm not exactly thrilled to be back in Forks, I'm glad I'm getting to spend some time with you."

I think it was the first time I'd ever seen an actual, genuine smile on his face.

xoxoxoxox

The bed was nowhere near as comfortable as I remember it to be, I decided as I turned once more, trying desperately to find a good position. I was pretty sure that was nearly impossible. Heaving a sigh, I rolled on to my back and kicked the covers off. Although it was chilly outside, the house was impossibly warm. So much, in fact, that I was sure I would suffocate unless I escaped. I pushed myself off the bed and headed over to my closet to grab my robe. I needed some fresh air. A few minutes out on the porch would do me some good.

I headed downstairs and exited the front door, careful not to slam it behind me. It hadn't been long since I'd heard Charlie come upstairs, and from what I could recall, he wasn't the world's heaviest sleeper. All I needed was for him to think someone was breaking in and rush down the stairs with his duty weapon aimed and ready to fire right at my head. With my luck, that's exactly what would happen, too. I crossed the porch and sank down onto the first step, drawing my knees up with a sigh. I wasn't lying when I had told Charlie it had been a long day. Well, perhaps a long day wasn't completely accurate. More like a long year.

From the time I was a small child, I had been invisible. And truthfully, I had preferred it that way. I was never what one would describe as beautiful, though I knew that I wasn't exactly ugly either. Plain would be the best way to describe it. Just simply, wonderfully plain. Except for when it came to my art.

I had found my niche during my freshman year of high school. I had never really shown any type of artistic talent, other than the occasional doodles that decorated the refrigerator of our small apartment, but it was during my mandatory elective class that I realized I truly had a talent. I had taken art, figuring it would be an easy "A". After all, how could you really be graded on drawing? But I discovered I was good. Better than good, actually. It had become my passion.

I had maintained grades good enough that I had been accepted to three out of the four colleges I had applied to. My artwork had been good enough that I'd managed to secure a four year scholarship. For awhile, it had seemed that everything had been going exactly according to plan.

I had met a boy in my senior year of college. He was in the art program, like me. But Jacob had been everything I was not. He was beautiful, perfect, comfortable in his own skin. And for whatever reason, he had picked me.

Other than my art, I had never been as passionate about anything like I was about Jacob Black. He had been the inspiration of my most intense pieces, the ones that had thrust me into the innermost circle of the artistic snobs who painted because it was trendy. Unfortunately for me, Jacob Black wasn't passionate about anything other than himself and it wasn't long before he lost interest in someone so painfully ordinary. He had broken my heart, and with it, he'd stolen my desire for the arts. I had been a mess for the last half of my final semester, barely able to scrape together enough material for my final portfolio.

I had spent a few weeks with Renee after graduation, mourning the loss of the person I had become when I was with Jacob, as well as the loss of my zest for art. For a brief period in time, I was living my life the way Renee had intended when she fled Forks all those years ago. I was someone better. I was living bigger than I would have if she'd stayed put. And what had it gotten me? A broken heart and an uncertain future.

The duration of the weeks I'd spent in Arizona with Renee had been about healing my heart and attempting to put the pieces back together. It had been there that I'd decided perhaps a change of scenery would do me some good. I had done my research before I'd even brought the subject up and she'd nearly blown a gasket when I did. Why on Earth, she demanded to know, would I want to relocate to Forks?

I had no answer for her, really. Other than the fact that I had attempted to follow in her footsteps and live beyond what I was sure I deserved and it had landed me in a pitiful situation that I knew I needed to get out of. Perhaps some time with Charlie would do me good, I'd argued.

And that's how I came to settle in Forks. I shivered at the word and shook my head. Temporarily at least.