I walk down the stairs, preparing myself for the expected tidal wave of guilt and pain.
There she sits, still as stone, in an armchair by the piano. God, she is beautiful.
Her fine features are calm and impassive, but Bella never could hide her emotions that well. Her golden eyes are full of sadness and anger. Someday, I will make it up to her.
"Good morning," I greet her in a low voice. She turns, fixing me with her hateful stare.
"I wouldn't say that," she mutters, and I hear the waver in her voice. She winces; obviously, Bella had meant for the words to be as cutting and cold as Rosalie's usually are.
I take a seat by her, feeling a thousand knives pierce my dead, still heart as she turns away, her shoulders hunched. I am a monster for doing this to her.
"I'm hunting today," Bella says, and I can barely see her face; her long, lovely hair hangs in a sheet over her features. I can still remember that fateful day, when young Isabella Swan brushed her hair behind one ear, sending her irresistible scent my way. I can still remember luring her away from school, out into the forest where no one would hear her scream. I can still remember Emmett and Jasper, yelling in horror and pulling me from my prey, ripping my snarling mouth from Bella's mangled neck. But the damage had been done.
"There are mountain lions not too far from here," I say quietly. She turns to me in one quick movement, her mouth twisted in a cruel smile.
"But I don't like mountain lions," she hisses. I feel my stomach plummet.
"Well, what do you like?" I whisper, knowing the answer.
"I like humans," she answers, though I know it disgusts her to say the words. She would do anything to hurt me, anything to anger my family. She leans towards me when she says the words, her eyes fixed on the half moon scar on my left forearm; a mark of Bella's first day.
"Bella, please," I plead, reaching for her hand. She twists my digits for a moment before pulling away.
"What does it matter to you?" she cries, a dry sob interrupting the words halfway through. "Vampires don't care about human families! Even your blasted 'family'; if you slip up once and a while, who really cares? You'd murder a child if it annoyed your sister, wouldn't you?"
I shake my head, wishing I could give Bella back her humanity. It would have been kinder if I had killed her; but stopping halfway, leaving Bella to moan in agony for days, was monstrous.
"I know you won't," I say quietly, and I can see the fire flare in her eyes. "You're not that kind of person, Bella. You would never kill humans. You've threatened this before. But you always come back, your record still clean."
"Maybe I won't come back!"
I sigh, rubbing my temples with two fingers. Sometimes I wish Bella would leave; then she might find a life that suited her, find vampires to take her in. She would be free of her worst enemy; me.
But then again, I need her.
I don't know how it happened. I couldn't hear her thoughts, I didn't even talk to her; Bella Swan had just been an unusually fragrant human. But after I committed the deed that would haunt me for eternity, that would practically drive me to the Volturi's doorstep, I fell for the girl I had damned.
She was fantastic; everything I had ever wanted. Maybe wanted wasn't the right word; needed, more like. Though Bella kept her every secret and emotion bottled up, I managed to gather enough information about her to know that she was incredibly funny, smart, and tender.
"Maybe," I admit, continuing the testy conversation. She squints at me.
"Would you let me go?"
There's no need to consider this question. I could never let Bella leave my life entirely; it would be like removing a vital organ from my body, without trying to stop the bleeding.
I stay silent. She growls.
Bella rises from her chair. "I'm going," she says, and I can see the defiance in her eyes. A chill of terror floods my body. Would she really leave for good this time? Bella would surely be caught on her own; she didn't care enough to be secretive. Her own life meant nothing to her. I had taken away her will to live, and yet she still couldn't bring herself to end what little life she still possessed.
I catch her wrist as she turns to leave. She looks at me, surprised.
Our eyes lock; I search the black depths of her irises. She looks torn. Her passionate hatred for my family goes without question; yet we supply her with a place to stay, show her the best animal hunting grounds, and care for her, no matter what she feels towards us in return.
"Let go," she says quietly. Her icy voice cuts through me, and I can still remember when that voice rang with innocence. I drop her wrist.
She's out the door in a second, and before I know it, I follow. It's like there's a chain strapped to my arm, the other end attached to Bella's. I'm her slave.
She turns, and I can see the twisted sadness on her face. It's a pity vampires can't cry; it would help release our pain.
There's no need for words. The look Bella gives me tells me all I need to know. Her eyes burn with a passion to be free; she thinks me her captor. I put her through unthinkable pain, turn her into a hideous (beautiful externally, perhaps) monster, and keep her under lock and key. Though she is free to walk out the front door, free to roam across the lands, she knows I cannot let her go completely.
She runs. I stay rooted to the spot, feeling the invisible chain stretch, almost forcing me forward. She is not next to me; I cannot protect her. This thought pounds through my skull, and I feel the familiar knot of fear in my stomach. How it terrifies me to be away from her.
Eight years ago, I took away everything a young girl had, and paid for it with my eternal life. Every day, the familiar routine greets me with a sinister smile. One day, maybe not today, but someday, Bella will crack, and leave the Cullens forever. I live in terror, waiting for that day to pass.
So I retreat back into the dark house, draping myself across a couch. I can still taste the sweet blood on my tongue; can still feel the hot liquid, quenching the thirst that had penetrated my throat for a hundred years. Four mouthfuls. That's how much I took from Bella before my brothers tore me away. Those four sweet, long drinks cost me many things; my father's trust, my self respect, my clean record, and my freedom. Even though no one would drag me back if I ran, I could never leave Bella.
And now I lie in a dark room, knowing that infinite years of misery lie ahead if Bella returns; and infinite years of pain lie ahead if Bella leaves for good. And if I drag Bella back, forcing her to live with the demon that cursed her with this meaningless existence, she will be tortured and I will be guilty and selfish. No one wins; there are only losers in this messed up slice of forever that I seemed to have created.