For starters: I wanna sincerely apologize for the monstrous wait! I cannot begin to explain how sorry I really am.
Second: I wanna lay down a few things. I am bringing this story back, but I wanna explain now that I will only be updating once every two weeks. I'm sorry, but that's the kind of time I'm left with right now. I barely have time for my new niece, a new place, and two jobs as it is. But I couldn't leave you guys hanging any longer. Plus, I just really needed some stress relief, and my stories have proven to be just that: My stress relief.
Third: I wanna let you guys know that my story has taken a different turn and I don't want anyone to be disappointed with me. That's just what my head came up with. But I do honestly hope you all enjoy my new turn on things.
And final, this story is unbeta'd! It is spell checked, and I've read over it many times, but even my keen eye slips and makes mistakes. I don't really have the room in my day to converse with someone, so I'm sort of winging it. I will make sure these chapters are as clean and grammar checked as possible (=
Enjoy!
It's a shame that it had to be this way
It's not enough to say I'm sorry
It's not enough to say I'm sorry
Maybe I'm to blame
Or maybe were the same
But either way I can't breathe
Either way I can't breathe
All I had to say is goodbye
Were better off this way
Were better off this way
Goodbye - Secondhand Serenade.
Introduction: I Guess I'll Be Going.
If someone had told me five years ago that I would be married to the love of my life, with a gorgeous daughter that I couldn't possibly get enough of, in my own house back in my hometown, with a teaching degree that I barely had time for, I don't think I'd believe them. I don't think I'd believe them simply because that's not how I saw my life going. Marriage was a possibility, but at eighteen? Children were a definite, but just a year later? I would have said no way.
But that wasn't my reality. I was married at a young age, despite what my parents lessons taught me about the concept of marriage. I had a baby in college, despite what all the tacky, cliche television shows taught me. And my husbands success allowed us to own our own home just blocks away from our families. Perfect, right?
Complications in college, with my beautiful daughter, taught me that life is short, and can be ripped away at any given time. It taught me to make everything count. Every second, every minute of every day mattered. All the miniscule events, they all mattered. I learned a long time ago that I should never take a day for granted. I'd had my share of ups and downs, who hasn't? But all the downs have taught me something or another.
I consider the way my life has gone, the path it has taken, to be pretty great. It's never been a smooth road, but all the bumps and twists and curves have only shown me that nothing is perfect. Life is what you make it. And Edward and I have tried to make it the best, for us and Emma. We've tried, but it didn't always make everything right. We've taken the wrongs and did our very best to make them right again. We've done what we can to make Emma's life perfect. Taught her what she needs to be taught, showed her what she needs to see, and told her what she should hear.
The only thing I regret is allowing certain things to go astray. Emma never saw the wrong. She never saw the arguments, between anyone. She never heard anything bad. And maybe that was my mistake. I've tried not to shelter her, but maybe I should have known better. Bad things are going to happen, to us, to her, to family, to anyone. The choice of whether she should see it or not has been a difficult one. And it slowly keeps getting harder.
Should I allow her to know about Edward and I arguing? Should I allow her to see Edward walk out the door at one in the morning? Should she know about the rough parts of a marriage?
Every marriage goes through tough times, no one is safe from that. My parents weren't, and it ended in divorce. Edward's parents weren't either, but luckily theirs survived; as any good, true marriage could.
So there in lies my problem.
Do I tell Emma that Edward and I have the same problems that any married couple does? Do I tell her that daddy and I still love her, but sometimes we need our space? Do I tell her that everything is going to be okay? Do I lie to her?
"Bella?"
I snapped out of my stupor and turned to look at the front door. Edward stood there, a grim expression on his face. He was upset, as was I.
"Yes, Edward?"
He set his suitcase down and reached up to scratch at his arm, fidgeting, stalling. "I guess I'll be going."
I felt the tears sting at my eyes, threatening to roll over my cheeks and break every wall I've built up. My eyes burned, my heart was breaking, and my mind was scrolling through every amazing moment Edward and I had together. Through every time he said this would never happen.
I slowly nodded, looking away from his sad eyes. I couldn't take the pain.
He took a deep breath, as if he was just waiting for me to say something. I knew he was waiting. He was waiting for me to stop him from walking out that door. He was waiting for me to speak up and tell him not to go. He was waiting for me to be his wife and tell him that everything would be alright, like I had done a thousand times before. But each time I said it, it meant less and less. Because the truth was, no matter how much you told yourself, or someone else, that everything would be alright, it didn't always make it true. Saying it over and over again didn't change reality. And the reality was that Edward and I were falling apart at the seams. Everything was crumbling. Everything that we worked so hard to build up, was turning to dust right in front of our eyes.
And it was too late to do a thing about it. It was too late to make things right again. We had waited too long.
The life we knew, the life we built, was gone. Everything was gone. The house Emma knew, grew up in, was no longer.
Every fight, every argument, every time we yelled at one another just pushed us closer and closer to where we are now. It was over. Everything was over.
I wanted to tell him that I loved him, that I couldn't stand to see him walk out that door. I wanted to tell him that I needed him. I needed him, and Emma needed him, and we needed him here, in our home, the very home we built for us, and her. I wanted to tell him that everything was going to be alright again. But like I said, saying it doesn't make it true. Especially when you've said it a hundred times and it didn't change anything. Why would I say it right now, if I knew it wasn't true. Things weren't going to be alright. My husband had packed his things and was about to walk out of our front door. Things were not okay.
"Look, Bella," he started, stepping towards me. "I don't," he stuttered, and then took a deep breath, "I don't wanna go."
My eyes met his and I felt a pang of sadness. I didn't want him to go either. But I didn't speak up.
"Bella," he pleaded.
I shook my head. "Edward, we agreed that this would be best." I quietly said, standing up.
He nodded slowly, begrudgingly. "I know, but Bella, baby," he bit down on his bottom lip. "I can't just leave you and Emma."
"Edward," I started, staring him directly in the eyes. "Please go."
I saw the tears fall from his eyes. I saw them pour over his cheeks and hit the light blue shirt he was wearing. I saw how they quickly stained the shirt darker as he turned his head and bent down to pick up his suitcase. Before I knew what to do, my husband of five years walked out the door and locked it behind him. I heard his car start, and I heard him quickly back out of the driveway.
I heard him drive away. Drive away from us. And it was all my fault.
The tears rolled down my face faster than I had time to stop them. I lost it. All the effort to hold back. All the effort to just put on a brave face while my world fell apart, was gone. I lost my mind.
If someone had told me five years ago that I would have just let the love of my life walk away from me. I don't think I'd believe them. I don't think I'd believe them simply because that's not how I saw my life going.