The cell phone shook violently in my hand. For the first time in eighty years, I felt a shiver run down my back to my toes.
The hole in my chest screamed in protest to the news. No. This was why I had left. Instead, my self-proclaimed unselfishness had caused a short cut to the situation I had been trying to avoid. My chin trembled and I felt invisible, nonexistent tears first creep hesitantly, then race across my cold stone face. Cold without her. All my fault.
I looked down at the phone. It was taunting me. Just minutes ago, it had been my last connection to her. I had kept it to keep an eye out for my family, but I knew that first and foremost it was our last link. I had known subconsciously that I could have picked it up anytime and called.
I wouldn't let it taunt me anymore, now that that option had been permanently removed. I channeled all of my self-loathing and agony into throwing it as far away from me as possible. It broke through the roof, leaving a gaping hole, and probably kept soaring through the drizzling rain for a few miles. I didn't bother to watch it as my chest writhed in pain again. I let myself clutch at my heart, as if it would help.
Suddenly I felt a very strong emotion, a mixture of extreme anger and guilt. Then I did something out of character and let out a low, human growl. At first it was shockingly menacing. It soon became a very pathetic plea for help. How could I be helped now? I was not sure, and I knew I would not be able to focus enough to find an answer.
I felt a stab of relief as soon as I let the first breath out. It startled me. I soon found it was involuntary when I was unable to keep quiet. This time I screamed, willing all the breath to come out of my lungs. I let my voice crack, over and over. When all my breath came out, I was sure that if I were human I would have passed out right there, on the dusty floor of the small attic. But the cruel task of being a vampire required me to be wide awake for all of this heartache.
For a few minutes I let myself scream, completely forgetting about the family that lived a few floors down. My screams gave me energy. I started throwing punches at anything. I stabbed the floor a few times with my fist. I tore a wooden beam I had used to sleep on the night before apart, and while I wasn't focused on my voice, things slipped out that frightened me.
"No!" I screamed as I flew through the many spider webs in the dark hell hole. " My fault! I should have never left!" My throat was hoarse but I kept bellowing at the top of my lungs. "All my fault! I'm so sorry, my—my angel, my baby, my fault!" I could no longer stand. My knees were wobbling so vigorously that I fell down on the hard wood floor and laid down, face down, feeling so alone, so lost. She was no longer here with me, on the earth. We would never be together again. We would be separated for the rest of eternity. She was watching me in heaven now and I would stay in hell, no matter what the Voulturi would do to me. "My…perfect Bella," I spoke to the floor. I hadn't said her name in months. My voice cracked while I said it now. And a volcano inside my chest erupted then. I had ripped out all of the stitches in my heart. And everything was magnified. The pain, the reality. I knew what I must do, but I would think about that later. Now, I was as close to her as I could ever get. I would take advantage. Slowly, I rolled onto my back and stared through the hole in the ceiling. I took a breath. I forced myself to imagine her face, smiling down on me, radiant in her beauty. "I'm so sorry, my Bella. I'm sorry. I love you." I reached up through the darkness. "Forgive me. End the pain. I love you so much." I furrowed my brow and was so overcome with sadness that I reached up to wipe the tears that were spilling out of my eyes. I realized when my hand came back dry, that I had none. I closed my eyes, taking in the agony of being an inhuman creature with such powerful human emotions. It was all my fault, I thought. I should have never put you in danger. From the beginning. I was so selfish, Bella. "Forgive me, my beautiful angel."
I thought about the cliff. She had jumped because of her misery? For not being with me? But, she would get over it, I had thought. She was a human. She—and I realized my mistake. I had judged her. I had assumed she was just like every other human, her world and her allegiance changing all the time. But I had never heard her thoughts.
"Oh, God!" I yelled to her. "You—" but then I was overcome, when I realized with a jolt the pain my words must have given her, months ago. My breath caught. She was in just as much agony as I had been in these past few months. "Bella," I practically mouthed, without any breath. "No." I gripped my hair. "You have to understand. I was trying to protect you! I wanted to protect you…and you—" it was too much. "I love you. I always have. I was lying!" But it was too late. "I…you were my life, you were why I still existed. And I always put you in danger. And I didn't want anything to stop you from having a human life, a regular human life." I wailed. "And you're gone."
I wouldn't let myself understand this. I refused. Too much pain. I had to get it over with. I would leave now. Maybe—a spasm of hope hit me—maybe, he would forgive me. Even if my Bella could not, maybe he would forgive me for my sacrificial life as a vegetarian. I was not innocent, but much more so than many. I would be with her, in heaven. If she forgave me, we could be just as happy. We could finally be together in every sense of the word. I would hold her perfect face in my hands and never let go of it, and kiss her like I had never been able to before. But if she didn't, I…I could admire her from afar. I could watch her smile.
It would be enough, I told myself, doubtful.
But I could not let myself hope.
I stood up, drowsy from the pain in my chest. I looked back up at the sky once more. It was raining harder now, ironic. I swallowed. "Soon," I said to her, though I was unsure myself whether it would be soon or never. "I will love you forever, Bella."
A drop fell through the ceiling and landed gracefully on my cheek. "Thank you," I said. I wouldn't dare wipe off this tear.