July 4th
Today is so peaceful, so sunny and warm. Edward is playing his guitar at Concert in the Park tonight before the fireworks. It'll be a few popular songs plus some of his own compositions. He is so excited! There is a chance that he'll be discovered tonight, maybe even sign with a record label.
July 30th
I love the summertime. My favorite thing to do is curl up on the porch swing, feel the gentle breeze ruffle my hair, and read a good book. I just finished Jane Eyre (for what, the 56th time?), and now I'm trying Daphne du Maurier. Jamaica Inn is first on my list. I'll start reading as soon as I put this journal back in my bedside table drawer.
By the way, Edward got signed! He'll begin recording in Seattle in two weeks. He's happy, so I'm happy too. That's what it means to be in love, right? His joys and sorrows are mine, and mine are his.
August 12th
Jessica, UGH! Edward called me today to say that his recording sessions were going well, and that he'd run into an "old flame." I remember Jessica Stanley. She was one of Those Blondes. You know, the popular ones, with the long, straight blonde hair. And here I am, with hair the color of coffee, with the annoying curl that I can never tame. All the boys wanted to date Those Blondes. She and Edward dated sophomore year in high school. He says he loves me, not her. I want to believe that's true. I love him so much.
September 6th
Wow, it's been a while since I've written in this journal. Edward and I take turns driving between Forks and his apartment in Seattle. I'll be starting at UW in three weeks, but he says he doesn't want me living with him. Something about waiting for marriage. But this voice in the back of my mind is saying that he's seeing Jessica. I keep trying to ignore it, tell it that he's not in love with her. He's in love with me. I don't think I could handle it if the voice were right.
On a different note, I've begun a new du Maurier book, Rebecca. It's supposed to be one of her best.
September 18th
"Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again." Well, not Manderley. Forks. Back to the carefree days of last summer, when it was just Edward and me…no worries, no doubts. We'd swing on the porch of his parents' house, talking about nothing important. We loved each other. That's all that mattered.
I feel so much in common with the second Mrs. de Winter. She didn't even have a first name in the book. Mrs. Danvers keeps telling her that Maxim is still in love with his first wife, Jessica Rebecca. I think Edward is still in love with Jessica. He doesn't call me as often, claiming that he's busy recording and performing. And I'm right here in Seattle! I've been to his performances. He's amazing. He probably deserves someone better than me.
September 26th
"I wanted to go on sitting there, not talking…keeping the moment precious for all time… we were content and drowsy even as the bee who droned above our heads. In a little while it would be different, there would come tomorrow, and the next day and another year. And we would be changed perhaps, never sitting quite like this again… Here we sat together, Maxim and I, hand-in-hand, and the past and the future mattered not at all." Except that it was Edward, not Maxim. It's as if I can rewrite some of Rebecca, and replace du Maurier's words with mine.
Sometimes I think Mrs. Danvers is real, and has travelled through time to me. Maybe I am the second Mrs. de Winter. I could swear she's talking to me. In fact, last night I heard her whisper, "He doesn't want you, he wants her."
September 28th
I saw them! At least, I'm pretty sure I did. I went to the coffee shop near campus, and there they were. Jessica and a guy with crazy bronze hair. I saw just the back of his head before I scurried out of there. Who else but Edward has those bedhead bronze locks? What's more, I could practically feel someone next to me, saying, "See? I told you." I asked Edward about it later, but he says that he wasn't at the coffee shop, and that Jessica must have been with someone else.
Is he lying to me? I want to believe he's telling me the truth. He kissed me, telling me that I was silly to think he would ever want anyone else but me.
October 4th
I'm sure of it now. He doesn't want me. He doesn't have time for me anymore. Why would he, when he has his music and Jessica? I am not good enough for him anyway. Mrs. Danvers is right.
October 9th
Mrs. Danvers tells me that Edward would be better off if I just disappeared from his life. Then he could pursue his music and his new life without old baggage. He would finally be able to have what he deserves. A career he loves, a beautiful woman by his side, even a home in that tropical paradise he dreamed about. I believe she is right. It's time to go. Edward, if you're reading this, remember that I love you with all my heart. Please don't feel sorry for me.
Edward carefully laid the papers on the bed, no longer able to see his beloved's handwriting through his tears. It had been ten days since some Bella's body was found washed up on the beach. Further down, the police discovered a sand-drenched book. Rebecca.
"Why didn't I see this coming?" he asked painfully, his broken heart heavy with guilt. "How did this happen in only three months? I didn't pay enough attention. She would be alive if…"
Laying a hand on his son's shoulder, Edward's father shook his head. "You can't blame yourself. Schizophrenia is difficult to recognize, especially in the early stages, because they hide it so well."
Edward swallowed tears, looking down at Bella's journal. "My love," he whispered, "If only I could unwrite these pages. If only I could unwrite these three months…"