The Twilight Twenty-Five
Prompt: Prelude
Pen name: BMT
Pairing: Edward/Bella
Rating: M

Stephenie Meyer owns any Twilight characters or references that may appear in this story. The rest is copyright 2010 by BMT. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my written authorization.

--Many thanks to my lovely betas maggieloo402 and Lovingangels07 for agreeing to edit my crap. Links to both of these wonderful ladies (and their killer fics) are on my profile!

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Chapter 1 – Prelude

Date: 2069 (Bella is 81)

BPOV

They say that you look back on your life when it's coming to an end and draw a list of regrets and what-ifs. You sit, if you're lucky enough to live to a ripe old age, and go over your life with a fine tooth comb. You wonder how things would have turned out if you had done even the smallest of things differently.

As I sit here reflecting on all that I have done, I can honestly say that I have not regretted anything. Every event, every memory, and every conversation has influenced who I became and what I accomplished. I wonder how many people will end their lives with the contentedness that I feel. I know my time is coming, but I am amongst the lucky ones.

As I look around at the Christmas scene in front of me, I feel a pang of remorse. My family is celebrating the season today, with presents and wrapping paper strewn about the room and the smells of Christmas dinner lingering in the air. I will miss this. The love I know for my family is timeless, and to be in their presence is a great comfort to my weary mind. I hope they can feel my love for them even when I am gone.

I have a love for this season. This is the time that he first expressed his love for me; the first time that he was able to call me his fiancée. I fidget with the diamond on my ring finger. It glints in the light, just as it had so many years ago. To me, it is sparkling with all the tears of happiness and sorrow from our long marriage. It makes me miss him even more than I thought possible.

I cannot believe that the years have passed by so rapidly. Our grandchildren are now young adults, adjusting to the onset of parenthood, marriage and 'grown up' responsibility. I smile as I remember the days that both of them had been born; those were joyous days for him and me. They say that having grandchildren is one of the greatest joys of life, and I can now stand in testament to that fact.

Now our great grandchildren are screeching at one another, and I love all three of them. Their births had been beacons of light in my darkness. was difficult celebrating them without him by my side, but a small part of me knew that he was with me those days. He was with me every day, even as they grow up. I have loved watching them develop and embrace life with the energy and innocence of youth.

Our beautiful daughter is frazzled by the preparations for the holiday, but she embraces that with grace. He always told me that she was a mirror image of my younger self. Even at 50, she looks young and acts youthful. Her passion for life is wonderful, and I could not be more proud of the strong woman she continues to be. She sits beside her husband, who pulls her down into his arms. I see the same love he had for me reflected in my son-in-law's eyes as he looks at my daughter, and my heart swells in recognition; it really is so rare.

One of the greatest wishes parents share is for their child to marry a person who is good to them, and that they have a strong and healthy marriage. My son-in-law embraces the role with vigor and unending love. I could not have chosen a better partner for my daughter if I had tried. Being around him constantly reminded me of my own husband; their mannerisms were almost identical at times. Though it was painful to be around someone who reminded me so much of my own soul mate, those characteristics only assured me that he was a great man, and it was easy to welcome him into our family.

This joy I feel is always overshadowed with the constant pain my soul feels. I miss him every minute of every day. Though ten years hasn't dulled the pain, it has made me a better actress to mask my feelings. The moment he died, I knew that half of me died too. He tore half of my soul away, taking it with him to his final resting place, and that was not something I could ever forget for a moment.

I smile as the youngest of my great grandchildren comes up to me and proudly shows me his newest toy. I gently pick him up, and hold him close to my body. His mess of copper hair is almost the exact shade of my husband's, but I quickly shake away the thought as I kiss his forehead. The constant reminders have begun to wear on me. I know he's gone; I know that his memory is in the physical similarities of our offspring. Sometimes I just don't want to be reminded.

I longed to join him, to lie together for eternity. I put on a brave face for my family, but even the love I feel for them could never compare to what I feel for my husband. I refuse to bring everyone down on this occasion, and banish thoughts of him from my mind for the rest of the night.

After the festivities of the day, I go home alone and prepare for bed. Just as every other night before it, I take the framed picture of him and kiss it. I pray for my family, for my husband, and for any chance to see him again.

I am too old and too fragile. These ten years without him have taken a toll on my spirit. I am so tired, so very tired. I know that it is time to go home; to meet him wherever he is waiting for me. I am in ecstasy knowing that I will be able to be with him again. This knowledge has kept me going at my darkest times. I know he has been here, guiding me along. He has been waiting for me too.

I turn off the bedside light and start to replay my life in my mind. Memories are my comfort, and every touch we shared keeps me together. Slowly, I drift to sleep.