I stood outside the landing of front door of the house, with my mind made up the on the course of action I was about to take.

It had been years.

It was about time I faced my past.

I walked up the stairs and with shaky hands and held the key up to the lock. Up until now I really hadn't thought about what I would do if the locks were changed, I just knew I had to do this for me. The dull throb hadn't gone away for years; it was almost as much a part of me as my extremities are.

As the key turned, my hesitation disappeared and I let myself into the hallway. I set the key on the side table without looking at myself in the mirror as I walked down the hallway. I gently skimmed my fingertips on the walls as I walked down, beginning to feel more and more like myself with every step I took.

I walked into the bedroom, and was immediately enveloped in his scent. I stopped abruptly.

You shouldn't be here, Bella.

I automatically started moving farther into the room in search of him.

You shouldn't be here, Bella. This is trespassing.

I pushed my mental commentary aside as I allowed myself to explore. Everything looked the same. Meticulous – because order is never overlooked in his world. I couldn't help but let out a sigh at the memory of the arguments we used to get in because I left my bracelet on the dresser instead of in my jewelry box in the bathroom. I turned and stared at the bed, the nights of passion and tender love all rolling into one as the memories continued to wash over me.

What I wouldn't give to lie in that bed again. Would he mind? Doesn't matter – it wouldn't be the same anyway. It isn't mine anymore.

I walked into the bathroom and looked at my completely cleared of counter-space with little emotion. My sink area has never been this clean, I thought humorlessly. I brought this upon myself, really. I'm hesitant to believe that anything could have been done differently. Maybe this ending was meant to be our ending.

Then why does it hurt so much to breathe when you're anywhere but here?

I looked at the shower with a smile on my face. I remember the first time he and I had a crazy dance fest in the shower. I was trying to get him to see the spontaneity in life. There is more to a shower than just a mode of personal hygiene upkeep. I had to suppress a sudden impulse to blast the sound system and dance around…in the shower, in his room, everywhere. I had to stop myself from running out of the bathroom and jumping on the bed like I used to when he was much too focused and had spent far too much time on work.

I sighed again – this one even more resigned – as I wandered back into the bedroom. I stopped in the middle of the room, waiting for the destination my heart was going to lead me next. I walked into the closet and turned on the light, giving my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the sudden change. I slowly browsed his clothing selection, smiling all the while. One side of the closet was filled with scrubs. I guess he really did follow through with the whole med school thing. The other side had a pristinely organized variety of pants, tops and shoes. I looked to the back wall of his closet and saw countless suits hanging. They were all the same color, even the hangers matched, which made it difficult to distinguish when one suit started and one suit ended. At the end, his robe hung with the ties in a neat knot in the front.

I made up my mind instantly and started stripping off my clothes before I could even think twice about it. I walked up to the robe and took it off the hanger. He's not going to like this. You promised yourself – no touching! I untied the knot and wrapped the robe around my shoulders, inhaling deeply and practically refusing to exhale.

I walked out of the closet and straight to the dresser, pushing out the thoughts of the pain I was going to see when I found my two drawers empty. Instead, I opened the top drawer and couldn't help but smile when I saw that nothing had changed. I tenderly touched everything in the drawer – from his hair brush, to his favorite cuff links and his neatly folded pile of hankerchiefs – , just once, before I moved back to his cologne and grabbed it. I doused myself to cover up the sharp jab of pain I had when I first saw it in the drawer.

Moisture began to build in my eyes and I knew I had to get out. I turned on my heel and bustled down the hallway, stopping at the basement stairs for only a second. I gripped the well-worn, yet meticulously sanded railing and began my descent into his haven. His basement was his place – but one he had always welcomed me into with open arms. I wonder, would he mind that I was down here now?

Completely familiar with the organization system of his CD collection, I walked straight to the classical piano section and quickly found the well-worn copy of his favorite Debussy CD – our favorite CD. The case was empty, but I wasn't really expecting much different. I walked over to his sound system, turned it on and set the controls for the entire house to be enveloped in the gentle rises and falls of Clair de Lune.

I had no clue how long I had here until he was home, but knowing him there was always something that needed to get done. He has always been so desperate to prove himself that he did whatever it took, no matter the outlying consequences his determination caused.

It was most certainly our downfall, and yet, I couldn't help but love him for it. It made him my Edward.

I wandered back up to our – no, his! – room and went straight to the bathroom. The giant bathtub that I had insisted upon when we were searching for homes sat in the corner of the room. Nothing had changed – and I highly doubted that he had used it much in the past 8 years. I found my incense still in its place on the ledge of the tub. He hadn't cleaned it up from the last time. My heart jumped for joy, my mind refused to let itself get carried away.

I shuffled around the shelf for the matches and lit the incense. I shuffled to the other end and turned on the water and dumped some bath salts into the water that was steadily rising. Beginning to feel somewhat content, I waited until the tub was filled and leaned over to turn off the water. I turned to the countertop and began to take my robe off, but stopped myself when I noticed the pile of papers hidden in the corner of the counter.

I shuffled the papers on the countertop, knowing that going through them was wrong but I couldn't have stopped myself even if I wanted too. There was a whole stack of them, and as I picked up the stack, I noticed a single piece of parchment paper thrown haphazardly on the counter and a cold dread began to seep in as I read the letter.

Hello Love

I love you so, Love

Meet me at Midnight

My hands began to shake and dropped the letter as if it had burned me. I didn't stop the tears from falling as I left the bathroom and went straight to Edward's desk. I grabbed the same parchment, and a pen. I let my tears run freely as I wrote.

So forgive me, love, if I cry in your shower

So forgive me, love, for the salt in your bed

So forgive me love, if I cry all afternoon

Hey guys!

I know, I disappeard. Sorry about that - life happened. I'm still deciding about whether or not stuff is gonna be continued, but I heard a song and this just had to happen.

The song is Your House by Alanis Morissette.

Anywho, this is just a little dabble. Please tell me what you think!