This is my first attempt at fanfiction-Any reference to the military or any other profession is purely for entertainment purposes and not to be taken as true as they apply to the real world.
My undying gratitude goes to xXkiwicullenXx. Without her guidance, encouragement and help, you wouldn't be reading this! Thank you! Go check her out. She's got a new story she's working on called 'Lives in Chaos'. It's great!
Disclaimer*I do not own Twilight*
Across the Hall
Prologue
Somewhere on the continent of Africa:
"Son of a fucking cock sucking bitch! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
"Holy shit, Cullen! What the fuck is going on?"
"My fucking bitch whore of a wife just sent me divorce papers!"
"Damn, bro. That sucks. Do you want to talk about it?"
No, I didn't want to fucking talk about it. My brother warned me. I should have listened.
He told me six months ago that Lauren was fucking around on me. Emmett told me that he saw her and Paul coming out of a bar one night. Arms around each other, entirely too close to be just co-workers.
Alice thought there may have been a reasonable explanation. She told Lauren that she tried calling her and asked where had she been. Lauren flat out lied to her saying she was visiting her grandmother at the nursing home.
It had been going downhill ever since.
She had told me she would wait. She told me she would be able to cope, using my family to lean on. She promised me that my career would not be an issue. She promised to stay with me and love me forever. She stayed for two years.
I tried talking to her. Every time I called, she said everything was fine. No problems what so fucking ever. Every time I called, she was distant and cold. Detached.
If I was being honest with myself, Lauren and I should've never even gotten married. I was in the Marines, based in Seattle. We met when I was on a weekend pass and we fell in lust. We stayed there for a while. I didn't see her all that often, but she was nice to look at and was good company for a few hours during the weekend.
Two months after I met her, she told me she was pregnant and yes it was mine. A month after that, I did the 'right thing' and married her. She told me she loved me. My dad said I could grow to love her and regardless, she was carrying my child. Six months after I met her, three months after I married her, I got a new job.
I was recruited out of the Marines into a private security firm sanctioned by the government. Apparently I wasn't exactly cut out for the military. I had a hard time with authority, but was good at all the rest of the military shit, or at least, my recruiters recognized my potential. They carried out military style operations, black-ops stuff. I had no idea they even existed. There was a reason for that. They didn't. At least not to any of the fine, hard working everyday people.
The cover for the Twilight Corporation was that we provided and dealt with security issues for some major US companies with foreign offices. Yeah. Fucking NOT. We dealt with some hairy shit. Extractions, recovery, assassinations, kidnap/rescue, among other things. My specialty was kidnap & rescue situations. You would be surprised at how many kidnappings there were of Americans overseas. The kind of shit we deal with never makes it on CNN. I am currently based in Northern Africa.
Oh yeah, she was never pregnant. Some shit about a false positive home pregnancy test and a mix up at the clinic. That's when I should have left. However, we decided that we would try to make it work. She said she loved me and I was more than fond of her. I'd never been 'in love' before, so I thought that the fondness could've been love. Whenever I was home, she would shower me with attention and made me feel loved. I wasn't home much, so with what little time we spent together, I never saw the signs. The biggest fucking problem that I had was that I wasn't even there. I was thousands of miles away and couldn't deal with any of my motherfucking shit on my own.
And now I was staring at divorce papers and a letter from my dad.
Dear Edward,
Son, I am sorry that I have to be the one to send these papers to you. Your Mother and I tried talking to Lauren. All she told us was that she wanted this divorce to be over quickly and that she was moving out of state with Paul.
Your mother and sister supervised her move out of the apartment. They made sure that most, if not all, of your things were left. As your lawyer, I have made sure that your interests, financial and otherwise, have been protected. I insisted that I draw up the papers with her lawyer. I believe that it is fair, but of course, you will have the final say on a settlement.
If you agree to the terms, you can just sign the papers and I will deal with the rest. If not, you'll have to come home. Please call me when you receive this.
We all love and miss you, son.
Dad
Meanwhile…..
Jacksonville, FL
"Will you just get the fuck out of here and let me pack? I don't want anything that is your's or anything that is ours! I'll be gone tomorrow. Go visit one of your whores!"
"Stop being such a fucking bitch! Don't forget that most of those CD's are mine!"
"I'm only taking what is mine. Now get out of here before I call the cops! You do remember the restraining order? Stupid son of a bitch."
"You are such a bitch. You were a lousy lay. You're boring as fuck. And what the hell is wrong with you anyway? You've been in Florida for six years and you're still pale as a fucking ghost. I'll be glad when you're gone!"
I met James in our senior year of college. He swept me off my feet. All the girls wanted him but, he wanted me. My roommate tried to warn me. She told me that she had seen him out with another girl. Twice. Different girls. When I broached the subject with him, he gave a plausible excuse. And I believed him.
We were married four months after graduation. I got a job teaching high school English. James was an executive at an advertising agency. Everything seemed fine for the first six months of our marriage. That's when the red flags started popping up. I just didn't recognize them at the time.
Our home phone would ring and when I answered, the caller would hang up.
Occasionally, I would catch an unfamiliar scent in our apartment. Perfume. Which I did not wear. At the time, I chalked it all up to odd, but no big deal. Although, I had an uneasy feeling that I chose to ignore.
School kept me busy most of the time. I even spent two months of summer break teaching summer school. I blame my lack of attention for not noticing sooner. James got lazy about keeping his secret. Or he just didn't care anymore.
Three months ago, I found what I thought was a journal. I was surprised because James was not the journal keeper kind of guy. When I dropped it on his bedside table, it fell. Lying next to the 'journal' was a business card. There was a woman's name and phone number on the back, which in of itself, might not be a big deal. However, the red lipstick kiss next to the number was.
His 'journal' dated back to before I met him. It was filled with women's names, phone numbers and addresses. They were all dated and timed. There were descriptions to go along with each name. Even places where he met up with them.
He even rated them.
At first, I couldn't believe what I was looking at. It was his. I recognized his handwriting. As I sat there staring at it, reality sunk in. I recalled evening meetings. Long lunches. Weekend business meetings. The hang ups. The fucking perfume.
All of a sudden, I was extremely thankful for my home copier. I had purchased it for school. It made things easier for class hand outs and such.
I copied the entire fucking book and then put it back where I found it. Then I left. I wrote him a note saying that I was going to a friend's house for a 'girls night.' I didn't want to confront him until I had time to think about everything and decide what I wanted to do next.
I actually did go to a friend's house. My friend Jessica had never liked James. I cried on her shoulder. I screamed. She even gave me some ugly figurines to smash. After I calmed down, I was just pissed. Pissed at him. Pissed at my self. If I had been paying attention, I would have seen this.
As it was, I had not been paying attention. James and I were comfortable. He stopped sweeping me off my feet soon after we were married. I got complacent. I stayed busy with school. He was busy with work, as well, so we didn't spend a lot of time together. And I didn't mind.
I took a week to figure out what I was going to do. I remembered that I hated Florida. It was too damn hot. I only stayed here because of him. It was also far away from my family. My parents lived in Washington.
So, I made copies of the copies and filed divorce papers. I quit my job and searched for any openings around Forks. Finding a position in Port Angeles, I applied. It didn't matter if I got it or not, though. I was going with or without a job prospect.
One night, I told James that I really needed him to come home early. When he did, I sat him down at the kitchen table. I handed him the divorce papers. When he figured out what he was looking at, he said 'what the fuck is this?' Then I handed him the copies. He was flabbergasted to say the least. When he finally looked at me, I told him to get the fuck out until I moved. We yelled, he pushed me, hard, against the wall and I called the cops. The next day, I got a restraining order.
Now, my car is packed and I'm driving to Washington. I have a position secured at Port Angeles High, starting in the fall. They called as I was taping up my last box. I'll have two months to find my own place before school starts. Until then, I'll be staying with my parents in Forks.
Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear what you think!