Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all characters. I just couldn't resist writing this one, even as much as I really didn't want to. The A/N at the end will explain....

EPOV:

Little about Forks had changed in the last 70 years. True, the people were new, descendants of those I once attended high school with seven decades ago. My family had not returned with me. In fact, I had not been with my family for 50 of the last 70 years. I had not strayed from our diet, though. I would never do that again. Not only out of respect for Carlisle, but out of respect for… her.

I wandered aimlessly through the small town, hoping for even a small whiff of her scent. I could recall it perfectly, but part of me wanted to smell it for myself, to believe that she had somehow made it through the past 70 years alive and unscathed. Well, as unscathed as she could get.

Ah. My aimlessness has its own method to it. Somehow, Charlie Swan's house still stood at the outskirts of town. I stood across the street and inhaled deeply. There it was! The unmistakable scent of freesias, strawberries, lavender.

Bella.

Bella.

But she would not be waiting for me here.

No.

I was to go to our meadow, if it still existed.

I took my time driving to the trailhead, though part of me wanted to run. Other than hunting, I had not run for pleasure for… 70 years. There was no pleasure in my life now. I existed with little purpose. As I exited the car and began the five mile trek toward the meadow, I thought back to the reason behind my departure so long ago and my return now….

Bella's 18th birthday party. After extracting promises of no gifts from me and Alice—which we promptly ignored—we sat Bella down and had her open gifts. I had one gift to give her that could not be wrapped. I had spent the entire summer wrestling with the decision, but I would wait until we were alone to tell her. I wanted to tell her in the meadow.

Instead, Bella sliced her finger open and the pungent smell of her blood alerted everyone to the fact of her humanity. Jasper snapped first and it was all I could do to hold him back. Bella ended up being hurt worse in the process, requiring stitches and pain medication. I was immediately reminded why my last gift—the offer to change Bella myself after we finished high school—was a bad idea. I took her home and began my preparations to leave that same night….

In retrospect, I think Bella knew something was going to happen. I wasn't that subtle about distancing myself. I didn't want it to drag on. Somehow, I convinced my family to go without me, and to go without saying goodbye, while I severed ties with Bella.

I met her at her home after she finished her shift at Newton's Sporting Goods. I had a note ready for her. Yes, I was coward enough to do it in writing. I didn't know if I could bear to see her face.

She caught me at her doorstep just as I finished wedging the envelope into the crack in the door. My departure must have been written plainly in my expression.

"You're leaving, aren't you."

I noticed it was not a question. I also noticed the pain, betrayal, frustration, and… love?... in her expression.

Bella took my silence as confirmation and nodded to herself.

"I'm glad that I meant enough to you for you to tell me goodbye in person…" she trailed off at my small flinch and looked behind me to the door.

"Oh. I see. I can leave and come back later so I can find the note instead of having to hear it directly from you. Would that be easier, Edward?"

I remained silent and still. Again, she took my silence as confirmation.

"That way I could pretend you aren't breaking your promise." Her voice was soft and wistful and I knew she was remembering my bedside promise to her in Phoenix—that I would never leave her.

I could find no words for her, or for myself. As usual, Bella was not reacting how I expected her to react. She was… calmer… than I anticipated, more perceptive than I had given her credit for… again.

"I guess I was never good enough for you," she murmured, convincing herself of blasphemy.

And she wasn't finished.

"I was just a… diversion. An escape. Part of your lie to help you appear human. I knew you were a good liar, Edward. I just didn't realize how good. You're standing there trying to convince yourself not to contradict me because that will make this harder on you. On me. You know that I'm wrong."

Yes, love, I wanted to say. You are wrong. So very, very wrong about how I feel about you.

"You told me once that I'd never have to make the choice to hurt myself to spare you pain. You were wrong about that, too."

My eyes widened. I couldn't help my reaction. She thought this wasn't painful for me?

"I know this hurts you, Edward. I can see it in your eyes. I know you better than you think I do. You've convinced yourself that leaving me is the right thing to do to spare me pain. I disagree. You think I can't love you as much as I know you love me. I disagree."

I smoothed my features back into an indifferent mask and shrugged.

"But you know what, Edward?"

She clearly expected an answer, so I obliged.

A single tear ran down her cheek and she stepped away from me even as my hands betrayed me and reached for her.

"I will love you for the rest of my life. I can't and won't stop. Even after you walk away from me like we both know you're going to. I love you enough to let you leave me. You claim that I will forget you. You are wrong. Nothing could make me forget you."

She stepped around me to the door and pulled the envelope out of the door and scanned its contents briefly. I took the opportunity to remove myself from her doorway, from the closeness of her scent.

"It can never be as if you did not exist, Edward Cullen," she said softly, then met my gaze. "Promise me something?"

I nodded once, not trusting my voice.

"Look me up in 70 years. I'll be in our meadow. Waiting for you."

She went inside and watched me walk away. I could feel her eyes on me long after she couldn't see me.

The meadow still existed.

I scanned the expanse, looking for anything new. My breath caught as I saw the small cross. If I could shed tears, I would have been unable to see.

I moved faster than I'd moved in decades to the small gravesite. The grave itself was flat and appeared to be quite old, though well cared for. I made myself look at the cross and fell to my knees when I saw it.

Isabella Marie Swan

September 13, 1988-September 13, 2013

Beloved Daughter and Friend

Forever Waiting

Twenty-five years old exactly, almost as if it were planned.

Oh, Bella.

I'm so sorry.

I would never be able to tell her.

After two excruciating hours recalling all of my memories of Bella, even the painful ones, I stood and turned to leave. I would call my family one last time and go to Volterra. I would not exist without Bella any longer. I'd already lost 45 years.

I looked back at the other side of the cross and stopped in my tracks. My name was spelled out clearly in lettering so small only someone with extraordinary vision could read it—a vampire perhaps? I did not need to move closer, but I did so anyway.

To Edward Cullen:

I told you I would be waiting for you. If you have come this far,

go back to Charlie's house. I love you.

Tua cantante,

Bella

I raced through my memories of Bella, trying to find any that contained the Italian phrase she named herself.

I could not find one.

She was right, as usual. She was my singer, always would be. In the past 70 years, I had not found anyone whose blood sang such a siren song. How did she know the phrase?

I immediately began to run back to Charlie's house.

Was it possible that my Bella was alive after all? Why would she fake her death at 25 if she was going to be here all along? Why would she leave such a cryptic note only for me? What was I missing?

I was still a few minutes away from Charlie's house when I smelled her scent again. This time it was fresh, concentrated, vibrant. I stopped and listened for her heart. Surely I would recognize that sound. It had been the center of my universe for so long.

No heartbeat.

No. It can't be.

I picked up Bella's scent trail and followed it straight back to Charlie's house, running at full speed, almost daring to hope.

She stood on the doorstep of her old home, her back to me, wedging an envelope into the door….

A/N: Mwahahaha! I'm mean, I know, but the plotbunny ran its course to this point and then scampered away with the same evil laugh I gave you. I've been resisting writing anything dealing with New Moon because it's really not one of my favorite books, I'm sorry to say, and I've never been satisfied with how things went. I was really going to stick with my resolution to not write NM material, too, but this doozy struck in the middle of my academic writing and this bunny had teeth. Nasty big pointy teeth. There is a possibility that I could be persuaded to take this further, but I kind of like it how it is.

Reviews are lovely and encouraged, but as usual, this was written for the pleasurable release writing can be. Thanks for reading! –ocfm