A/N: I'm so sorry. I deleted it by mistake.

EPOV

I couldn't understand the reason why would people find it amusing that I loved to 'google' myself. Everybody, at some extent, wants to know about what's being said about them, whether they would like to agree or not. Although I didn't know much about social networking sites, I did know that the first thing people would love to see is the notifications.

Well, I wouldn't consider myself too crazy about knowing what people were talking about me, but still I couldn't help googling myself .

I looked at the headlines and couldn't help laughing at some ridiculous ones.

"Edward Cullen prefers wearing Red boxers."

Really? How did you know about it? Even I didn't know that. I mean, who the fuck give a damn about what's color of the boxer? At least, I didn't.

" Teen-heartthrob Edward Cullen at his sexiest best at Vogue Party!"

Sexiest best, eh? How do they measure it? Like, a sexeometer?

"Ed Cullen caught getting cozy with an unknown red-head!"

I clicked on it to know who was it this time. Such a man whore you're, Edward, I chuckled.

I looked at the pics, and realized that she was one of my fans, who had stalked me to get photographs and autographs. But look at the age of the lady. She must be around forty, or may be fifty. What the fuck did she find interesting in me? Such a cougar!

But that's not the point. The point was, how crazy were the people who wrote such stupid craps everyday , and those who believed them, were crazier.

Thank God, Isabella didn't give a damn about any of these craps, else my life would have been a hell.

"Edward Cullen on a romantic date with the wife, Isabella"

I smiled as I clicked on it. How happy did we look in these pictures. God, didn't she look lovely in that outfit!

"The most romantic couple."

"One of the best couples of young Hollywood."

"So jealous of Isabella Cullen."

"What does he even see in her, I would never understand."

"I would trade off anything to be with this man."

"I fucking envy this bitch. Look at her. Her husband is the sexiest man alive!"

"One word: Lucky bitch!"

I shook my head as I read the comments below the article.

Why did these women think that Isabella was the lucky one in our relationship. They knew absolutely nothing about me, about us, about who I was, and who she was.

May be, that's the reason, they said such things. If they had known, they wouldn't.

If there hadn't been Isabella Swan, they wouldn't have found this Edward Cullen to gloat after.

If they had known, they would realize that I was the lucky one.

"Why are you so shy? Why don't you talk to me at least? I'm your new neighbor, you know that, right? I mean, we're classmates and neighbors. We can be best friends." Seven years old Isabella Swan asked me.

She's so cute, I thought. I wanted to be friends with her, but that was not possible. She wanted to be friends with me, because she knew nothing. Once she knows, she would be the same as the others.

"Why are you so shy?" she asked again.

C'mon, I should say something, I cheered myself. I could do it. I could try, at least. But I knew, I would fail.

Suddenly, she missed a step on the ladder. I grabbed her to hand to stop her from falling and said, "Bbb… Bbbb.. Beee Carrrrr…re…ffffuullll…"

She stared at me and I realized what I had done. Well done, Edward. Now even she wouldn't want to be friends with me. I began walking in another direction.

"Edward, stop…" she ran after me.

"Hhhhhiiii… Eeeddd… ddd.. Eddddwarrrrrddd…" Mike Newton appeared from nowhere and as usual, made fun of my stammering problem.

"Mike, yooouuuuu shhhoooulddddd nnnnnnottttt maakkkkeee fffffffunnnn offff Edddddiiieeee booooyyyyy…" James joined him.

I was fuming with anger, but could do absolutely nothing about it.

On the same day, later in the evening, I was in a glum mood, as I heard a knock on my door.

I was angry at everyone.

At God. Why did he have to give me such problems?

At my classmates. Couldn't they understand that my problem has nothing to do with what I was and who I was?

At my doctor. Which kind of treatment was he doing?

At my parents. Didn't they understand that I wanted to stay alone?

"Edward, sweetie, look who's here?" My mother said as she opened the door.

I raised my head from the book as I saw smiling Isabella there.

I smiled as I remembered that day. She had told me that she wanted to be friends with me and she assured me that we would be best friends, and she told me that she would protect me from bad guys of our class.

And how right she was. We indeed became best friends. She was so smart, witty, brave and protective of me. She couldn't hear anything bad about me. She would shut up Mike and James with her witty answers. She's like the best thing that had ever happened to me.

Gradually, my treatment began to show some successful results, and by the age of ten, I began speaking like any other normal kid.

I remembered when we were twelve and…

"Edward, you should apply for it."

"Are you kidding me?" I looked at her in disbelief, "I can't sing in front of two people and you want me to apply for a singing competition?"

"Yes, I do. Because I know you can do it."

"No, I can't."

"Then I'll do it."

"Well, I don't have any problem with it. You can apply for it." I shrugged my shoulder.

"Who the hell said that I am applying for it?" she smirked, "I'm filling the form for you and I do know your signature, right?"

"You…"

How crazy she was, and nothing can beat the confidence she had on me over any matter.

She was the one who had forced me to take a part in the Shakespeare drama.

She was the one who had forced me to apply for the audition of my first movie.

She was the one who stayed by my side during my failure and success.

She was the one who would always keep my preferences over hers.

My path from a shy, under confident boy to a Hollywood heartthrob hadn't been easier, but the one person was always there with me.

Isabella.

My best friend, my lover, my wife.

"Hello hubby…" Isabella appeared with two mugs of coffee in her hands. "Don't tell me you're googling yourself again."

"You know me so well."I grinned.

"So, why do you prefer red boxers?" she chuckled.

"You read it?" I laughed.

"Well, why would you think I wouldn't love to google my sexy beast husband?" she smirked.

" I love you." I placed a soft kiss on her lips.

"Love you, too." She smiled. "I'm so lucky to have you."

"Nop." I shook my head, "I'm the lucky one."

A/N: A very short story. Thanks for reading.