Disclaimer: Nope. I still don't own Twilight, and it belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

A/N: So, I couldn't help it. :P I know I should worry about my unfinished stories before I venture into another, but let me tell you that is completely necessary. Lately I've haven't had any muse at all, and I have been getting back into the swings of things. Anyway, writer's block and a longing for some deep emotion/angst, and you've basically got this story.

So, have you read my one-shot "Growing Pains"? If you haven't, then I would suggest reading that before reading on, because this story takes place after it. It is not necessary at all to read it, but if you do it will make a hell of a lot more sense in the beginning. So many people asked me to continue and wondered what happened after the one shot, and well, I'm a sucker for that kind of thing...plus, I kind of wanted to know in full detail myself.

So, without further ado...can I get a quick drumroll, please?

No, just go ahead and read. :P

Dearest Isabella,

Hello, love. Are you well? I don't have much time to write to you today, something I deeply regret. It seems like I have less time each and every day, though I certainly do what I can. You have always deserved the very best, and I can only hope that whoever you choose to spend your time with is lathering you with the attention you deserve. It seems like ages ago that I left you, and yet I remember that night with perfect clarity. It's difficult to think about it, so most of the time I don't. It sounds simple enough, but it's more difficult than even I would like to believe.

Instead I think about other things when I'm out here, and to be quite honest, I'm not sure I would make it if I didn't. It takes a strong man to live like this, to go day to day and still manage to be sane. I always wanted to be strong for you. It might be a partial reason why I'm here, though every night I wish I was elsewhere. When I'm out here, though, I think about what it will be like when I get back. I think about how I will be a new man for you, and how it will help us. I think about how I can hold you in my arms again. I think about your smile, your enchanting laugh, and the way you blush when I give you just the smallest compliment. You never did get used to my attention, though I couldn't ever understand it. I suppose it's something I will need to work on further when I return to you.

Sometimes, I wonder what you think about when you are alone and in bed. Do you wonder what it will be like, too? You sounded so sure that day, and when you told me to leave I wasn't sure whether or not to believe it. You were always so compassionate Bella, and I should have known not to hurt you in that way. It is a decision that I regret every day that I am out here, and yet part of me does not care to take it back. Is it not better that I am out here, doing as I intended? Is it not better for us that I return to you the changed man I swore I would be? You never understood my decision, but I always knew it would be right. I needed to be worthy. I still do need to be worthy.

I wonder if you're happy or not. I wonder if you miss me half as much as I miss you, as well. There are a thousand things I miss about you, and too many than I can even begin to list. For one, I miss the scent of your hair. I miss the way it felt when I twirled it around my fingers. I miss the way you smiled for me when I approached, how your heart beat. I miss the way your face lights up with excitement, the way you tilt your head when you're confused. I miss the way you bite your lip when you're nervous. I miss the way you say my name, as if I am some god and not the flawed individual you never saw in me. I miss the way you look at me. You look at me always as if I am the most important person in the world, as if all else doesn't matter. It is truly amazing, and not something I can say I deserve.

I miss you. I miss holding you. I miss comfort. I never thought of us like that, but I suppose it has always been that way. You are comfort, familiarity, and yet you surprise me every day I am with you. You are thrilling and new even when you are old and cherished. Never a moment with you is one that I do not appreciate, and I only wish you understood that.

I will keep thinking these thoughts as I count down the hours I am away. I need to be going now, and I only hope this letter gets to you safely. Maybe you too, then, can think some of these thoughts.

Missing you always, my angel,

Edward

Her entire body seemed to tremble as she finished the note, tucking it safely into her purse and attempting once more to hold her tears at bay. It was difficult to hold herself together when a large majority of her screamed that she was falling apart, all of the carefully glued and stitched pieces finally breaking apart at the seams. She supposed it was what she got for keeping all of this locked in for so long and believing that it could stay that way. Emotions were complex things, and there was never much chance of keeping something bottled in for too long. One way or another, she supposed, it had to explode at one point.

It didn't seem right that it all happened now, when finally all of the broken pieces of her heart seemed to be coming together and repairing themselves, gluing themselves for someone she had thought could do the job. While forgetting and hiding had always been her speciality, Jacob had done a wonderful job in aiding her in this mission. He was a constant distraction and always a relief in the beginning, like the last streams of sunlight in her life. When she felt the darkness had finally closed in on her, he was always the one who pulled her right back out. Marrying him had quite easily been one of the better choices in her life, and she couldn't regret that. It didn't matter what she felt now, because what she felt for him couldn't be erased.

After a while, she began to wonder what love was. It was difficult to understand, and while emotions were complex, there had never been a word more complicated, with so many contradicting ideas and definitions. Dictionaries could give you a thousand descriptions and adjectives and people could tell you a thousand different things, but none of it mattered in the end. In the end, it was your choice to define love for yourself. It was supposed to be easy to fall in love, and you were supposed to know when it was happening. Quick and easy they said it was, effortless, like the flutter of a bird's wings as it flew. It had been that way with him. Her eyes moved slowly over the words of the letter again, finally forcing herself to crumble it in her purse with every other read letter she had read over the past days.

When she had first met him she had been very young, unsure of which way was up and which was down. She'd been a teenager, naïve and foolish. It was easy to think you knew everything then when there was nothing to base it on. When you had no past experiences there was nothing to compare it to, and everything was new and exciting. The butterfly-in-your-stomach feeling was thrilling and a high she wished she could have stayed on forever. Her first kiss was romantic and automatic at the same time, and perfection had been the only word that had covered it. Back then, it had seemed like some sort of fairytale. She hadn't seen the problems or the bad parts of the relationship, only the sugar-coated love story, and it was she was supposed to see. It was all she cared to see, just a naïve teenager trying to get by – not quite an adult, but refusing to believe she was a child. In the end, it hadn't felt anything like falling, and she hadn't made any conscious decision.

Bella didn't think about what had happened as falling in love. It hadn't seemed like it then, at least. Everything had seemed right then, like there was never anything else. She hadn't wanted anything else. Every second of every day was new and exciting, and familiar and comforting at the same time. She couldn't help but fall head over heels, though she rather liked to believe that he had done so first. Everything about her pulled her in deeper and made her crave more, everything from his alluring crooked grin to his musical, light chuckle. It was the way he spoke, the way he thought, the things he did. It was the little things that caught her, that kept the butterflies coming. He wasn't perfect, though, but neither was she. She hadn't wanted him to be.

They were a fairytale, though, a happily-ever-after, after school drama couple. They were the envy, the only ones who survived past high school. Sweethearts, hand in hand, always together, always smiling, always laughing. They were two entities that made a single whole – it was always Edward and Bella, Bella and Edward. It was always 'hey, Bella, when are you and Edward coming?' because everyone knew they couldn't stand more than a couple hours apart. It was perfect. It was right. It wasn't falling, it was floating. It was flying, it was soaring. She had never wanted to come down, either.

It had all come crashing down like the end of the story book, like the new twist in the drama that causes the viewers to send the outraged letters to the screenwriter, in hopes it might actually change anything. Back then, she liked to believe she never could have predicted it, but she should have known all along. Perfection didn't have a place in reality, and shooting for the stars usually just meant disappointment when you realized you could never quite reach. No matter how far you aimed and reached, they were millions of years away, no matter how hard you looked at it. Perhaps she had seen it coming, she liked to think. Perhaps she had known all along, but chose to ignore it. No princess ever wanted to see flaw in their prince. Cinderella never questioned Charming, she just went with the flow. She let herself fall happily, swept up into his arms and rode away in the sunset.

Then again, Charming never left Cinderella. They ran off to the castle, leaving her old life and every hardship behind with a few simple words and a magical kiss. There was a difference between fairytale and reality, and how that line had ever gotten blurred she'd never know.

Things had never been like with Jacob. She had always known exactly what was wrong with their relationship, and had always been weary to change it. It had always been better with the flaws and the imperfections, and she could deal with that. They had their difficulties and struggles, she supposed. He only had so much patience and she could only lie to herself to a certain extent, but in the end, it had worked. With Jacob, it had never been like floating of flying. With Jacob, it had always seemed like insistent pushes and a few sharp tugs. People say love cannot be forced, but she begged to differ. If you want to bad enough, you can come to love someone. There are no butterflies or magical kisses, but perhaps that was just the way life was supposed to be. Perhaps she had always had high expectations, asked for more than she should. Perhaps she had always been as selfish as she felt now.

"Mrs. Black?"

A short breath left her as she turned her head toward the doorway, biting down on her lip and pulling herself quickly from her thoughts, a bit relieved. It had taken a while for the nurses to get used to her name, and it irritated her every time they got it wrong. Perhaps it was just because she was used to hearing the name 'Black' referred to her, or perhaps it was just that sometimes she still remembered when it had been the same for 'Masen'. Either way, it didn't matter. Either way, she didn't care to think it over.

"Yes?"

"I'm going to need to ask you to leave soon," the nurse told her shyly, shifting a bit from one foot to the other. Bella had come to know her as Angela. She was a soft-spoken, rather meek woman, but she was the friendlier of the nurses. When she looked at her, at least, Bella did not see the pity of the confusion that the others had written all over their faces. It was something she was used to, but a relief she was happy she didn't need to deal with nevertheless. She smiled a bit in return, nodding her head simply.

"Thanks, Angela." She paused for a moment, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes fluttered to the bed on the other side of the small hospital room. "Can I ask when he's going to wake up?"

Angela's eyes followed her gaze, and she let out a quiet sigh. Bella turned back in time to see her give a dainty shrug, and the sympathetic look told her exactly what she needed to know. "No one can be quite sure. The doctors are saying another day or so, but it all depends on how well his body responds." Angela's mouth curled up a bit at the tips, and she turned to leave once more. "You are very lucky. He's in much better shape than some of the others. In fact, he should make a full recovery with only a bit of permanent scarring."

Permanent scarring. She cringed at just the thought, shaking her head. This wasn't where her mind needed to wander at the moment. It was a few more moments before Angela left the room, giving her yet another smile as she did. It was another moment before she found the strength to get to her feet once more and cross the small distance between her and the bed. It was even longer before she found the courage to take his unresponsive, cold hand, the tears finally springing and pricking at her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered as she squeezed gently, wishing she knew what else to say. "I'm sorry for everything. I never wanted any of this to happen. I never wanted you hurt."

Her words were choked up as she shook her head, finally letting go of his hand and placing a soft kiss to his forehead. "Get better, please. Please be okay."

Her shoes clicked against the floor as she headed out to the waiting room, but the large arms that engulfed her just didn't seem as comforting anymore.

A/N: So, what did you think? :) Good, bad, worth continuing? To be really honest, I do love the way this story is coming out. It's a bit more mature and very emotional, but then again, a lot of my work is. While I tend to reveal stuff very early on in my stories, this one is a far cry from anything else I've written. I'd love some feedback, whether positive or negative.

Now, as for updating my other stories, I know I'm letting you down. I'm trying very hard to get back on track, but the thing is that I'm very busy lately, and when I'm not, sometimes I just can't find it in me to write. When it comes to Unread Messages, it's just a matter of planning. I like to know where I'm going with the story so I'm not just winging it chapter by chapter, and I haven't been able to do it with UM - I definitely didn't do it with YGL!. :P That was a completely chapter by chapter story, while NDM was carefully planned out and I knew how it would end the entire time (how I got there did vary a bit, though, haha).

Okay, glad that's out of the way. I will try to get some updates out, and I'm very sorry for the waits. I will try and get updates out as frequently as I can, and all the broken promises are so horrible, I know. I'm sorry if I haven't replied to your PMs, but I'm also going to try and get better at that, too. xD Consider all of this a very belated New Years resolution, hah. (;

Anyway, like I was saying before, I'd love to hear your suggestions, comments and thoughts on this story. You know how much I love that. I'm such a sucker for a good, long review.../cough

Thanks!

Yours,

Nicky