His voice had never sounded so cold as it had the day he'd left me. Standing outside the Cullen home, I couldn't help but to think that the house had also grown cold. The old house, with its wildly overgrown garden, was silent, secretive. The house wasn't the same to me any more. Before it was always bursting with some sign of life, some sign of warmth, no matter how small that sign could appear to be. Esme gardening in the yard or Rosalie working on a car. Emmett experimenting in the kitchen, he loved to try cooking new things. "Bella," He'd say excitedly, "Come try this!" Sometimes, if I had listened hard enough, I could hear distant sound of pages turning as Jasper quietly read a book or Alice scribbled in a sketch book. On his days off Carlisle was always willing to chat, or listen. And, of course, Ed- He would play the piano for me.
The front door was closed, and as I put my hand on the handle, I felt afraid of what I might find. As soon as I walked in, I felt the tension. The house just felt wrong. When I opened the door, I wished to see some sense of normalcy. Instead I got dusty sheet covered furniture and other small bits and pieces that had been left behind. Items deemed too unimportant to bother packing up and taking with them, just like I had been. I looked around quickly, to see if anything had been taken as the door had been unlocked. Why would they have locked it? It wasn't like they couldn't replace everything that was left here anyway. Everything including me. Spider threads caught at my face, a sign that no-one had been here before me for quite some time, as I stepped farther inside the destitute home.
He didn't understand what he'd done to me, but he would by the time I was finished. They all would.