He's at the funeral …
They were just four little words. Who would have thought that four words could ever be so destructive? In that one short phrase everything had changed for me, and what little meaning had remained in my life had now been extinguished.
But it took a few seconds for the full implication of those four words to sink in.
Rosalie had called me. She had told me that Bella was dead. I had thought, or maybe hoped was a better word, that she had been playing some kind of cruel trick. If I had cared enough about anything at the moment, I probably would have paused to hate her for that.
I had called Bella's home with a desperate need to hear her voice, or Charlie's – anyone's who could contradict that lie – but in four words a man, someone I didn't know, had confirmed my fears.
"This is Dr Carlisle Cullen, can I speak to Charlie, please?"
"He's not here," replied the gruff human voice.
"Well, where is he, then?"
"He's at the funeral."
I couldn't even remember turning the phone off. It hung now, in my limp hand.
Since I had become a vampire I had forgotten what it was like to feel pain, apart from the burn in my throat I experienced when I was thirsty. That had changed the moment I had left Bella's side seven months ago, running from her, after telling her the vicious lie that I didn't want her anymore.
Leaving her had hurt me more than anything, more than realizing she believed what I had told her. She had not doubted for a second that I didn't want her, accepting it without a fight. I still didn't understand how she could have done so. Even as I had run from her then, every cell in my body had been ordering me to return, if only to find out why she could possibly believe that I didn't want her, when every word I had spoken, every look, every gesture I had given while we were together had told a different story.
But I had forced myself to run on – to take myself away from her. To keep one foot in front of the other in the opposite direction to Forks. The only call I had made was to Alice. I knew that she would see what I had done and would be furious. There would be no stopping her going to Bella, and I couldn't have that – there would be no more vampires in her life – and so I forbade it. She didn't agree with me; in fact, it was clear from the outset that she was sure I would give in. But I was determined to prove her wrong.
I told her to tell the others I wouldn't be seeing them for a while. I didn't want to see anybody. I didn't want to go through the pretense of trying to behave like a human, trying to blend into the world, trying to be something I was not. What was the point anymore?
So I had lived alone – if you could call it that – for seven months. I had rarely hunted. It was only a reminder of the hideous monster that I was, and I didn't want to be reminded of what had disqualified me from a life at Bella's side. I had roamed about, hardly noticing my surroundings, driven only by an insatiable desire to destroy Victoria, the vampire who had conspired to kill the woman I loved.
Every moment of that time I had lived in constant pain. Not physical pain; I barely even noticed the burn in my throat from lack of hunting. No, my pain had been internal, nothing but the constant shrieking, desperate desire to be with Bella again. I lived every moment in tortuous agony, my frozen heart non-existent within me; a gaping hole that had left a wound that would never heal.
Day by day, moment by moment, I was assaulted by the craving to return to Forks and be by Bella's side once more, or at least see her. Watch her from the forest. I had determined that I would do it one day – probably check in on her every few years to make sure she was safe – always aware that, the moment she stopped breathing, I would follow her to the grave.
That moment had come sooner than I had anticipated.
My phone rang again. I didn't need to look at the caller I.D. to know who it was. It was Alice. She had already seen the plan in my mind, the plan I hadn't even needed to think about. She had seen it last year, too, when I had almost lost Bella and had struck on the only course of action open to me if she ceased to exist. There was nothing else I could do. Even revenge on Victoria had ceased to mean anything. I couldn't stay in this world a moment longer.
I wriggled out of my hiding place in a tenement building somewhere in Rio. I hadn't even bothered to notice where. Now I wanted to know, and searched my memories to figure out where I was. I had to find the quickest route to the airport. I had to book a flight to Italy.
My phone continued to ring, and I ignored it. Once I had scaled down the side of the building to the alley below I threw it into the nearest trash can. I didn't need it anymore, and I knew Alice wouldn't stop calling.
Night had fallen, fortunately. It would have been difficult for me to make it to the airport in the daylight, as there had been bright sunshine for days. I hadn't noticed the perpetual darkness of night in my travels, as I had continued my dogged and fruitless search for Victoria. My life was always dark these days. What did one more night matter?
But now, the night seemed unendingly dark. It crushed me. The one light that made my world bright had been extinguished.
Questions tormented me. Why would Bella throw herself of a cliff? Wasn't she happy? She had to be! I wasn't in her life! The one evil in her existence had been removed. I had left her so that she could be happy, and have a normal, happy human life with whomever she chose. The life that she deserved. Had she broken up with someone? Had someone hurt her?
For a moment I was filled with rage and wondered if I should hunt him down. But I knew that if I returned to Forks there was a good chance some members of my family, whom I'm sure Alice had alerted to my plan, might catch up to me. Although I knew it wouldn't make any difference – they couldn't hold me captive forever, even with Alice keeping watch – I didn't want any delay to the end that I craved so desperately.
But why?
I scaled another building and began to leap from building to building, trying to travel as quickly as possible. Nothing was going to sway me from my purpose. No one would stop me from booking that flight. I kept my speed up so no human would see me, and only slowed when I came close to my goal.
Once I reached the airport I moved into the flow of human traffic and slowed my pace. It was maddening to have to go at this speed; I wanted this over and done with. I ignored the thoughts that bounced around me – all meaningless drivel, irrelevant when compared with my purpose – and kept my mind focused on my destination.
It wasn't long before I was waiting in line to book my flight. It was difficult to be patient. Eventually, it was my turn.
"Yes sir?" the young woman at the counter said in broken English. She had assumed, by my appearance, that I was not a local, so was trying to use her insufficient English, as she had been instructed by her employer.
"I'd like to book the first available flight to Italy, please," I replied in Portuguese. I wasn't going to wait for her to translate the questions into her second language. It might delay me by minutes.
"Certainly, sir." She was relieved that she didn't have to keep up the pretense of speaking in English. I need to keep this job, she thought.
I was happy to make it easy for her, if it meant she made it easy for me.
The earliest flight available to Florence would still take twenty-four hours to complete. Another day to wait … Never mind. After that, I knew things would move much quicker. It was only fifty or so miles from Florence to Volterra. I would drive that in about ten minutes, especially if I could avoid traffic, although I was scheduled to arrive in Florence early in the afternoon, so the roads would probably be busy, and I would need to avoid the sunlight …
While I waited for my flight, I busied myself with preparations. I bought a long jacket and gloves, sunglasses and a hat. They would help shield me from the sun coming through the window of the car in Florence. After all, I couldn't be sure if I would be able to get a hire car with sufficient tinting to keep all the sun out. It was best to take precautions. I also phoned ahead to book my hire car, so that it would be ready for me as soon as I landed.
I then sat in the departure terminal, trying to block out the meaningless chatter in the minds around me. I was sitting next to a woman who most men would consider attractive. She had nothing on Bella. She wasn't even brunette, and her eyes were blue.
She was trying to get up the courage to talk to me. I made my face as fierce as possible to try and discourage her. The honest truth was, if she tried to talk to me, especially considering what was running through her mind at the moment, I might lose control and kill her just for daring to think those things. The thoughts she was having, thoughts of me in her bed, turned my stomach. I couldn't even gain consolation from imagining she was Bella.
Why?
Eventually, I moved to hide myself in a quiet corner of the airport. The thoughts of some of these humans was making their lives precarious, and I was on edge. It was still another hour before my flight departed.
The hour crawled along. I was in a hurry to have it over – along with every other brief hour left in my all-too-long life. I would not put up with this existence for much longer. My love had left this world, and my final departure would not be far behind hers.