It's 3AM and this oneshot was eating my brain alive =] I am re-reading New Moon and wondered—what if Bella bucked up and realized things aren't as bad as they seem? B/E at heart, because we know how New Moon ends. Slightly AU in that my Bella is a little more hard-headed and determined after her months of silence.
I don't own anything Twilight.
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If she were desperate enough to find examples of a successful…separation…she needed to look no further than her own father.
Charlie was a great man, in his own right. There were no monuments in his honor; no libraries would etch his name on a plaque and display it for centuries above its doors. In all likelihood, he would be forgotten in a few generations. Sure, a few old souls would wax poetic over the once Chief of Police. But Charlie had done nothing remarkable—outside of his uncanny ability to go on.
That was where she was stuck, really. The going on that she so desperately looked for. After months in a near catatonic state (because really, the blank pages of her diary spoke more words than she could ever produce in her lifetime) she woke up one morning and realized that she was Charlie's daughter. She was a Swan. Sure, half of her belonged to Renee. But that half didn't consist of the same genetics that led Renee to leaving. Those genetics were buried in her, deep somewhere, but there nonetheless.
Charlie, however, Charlie was a fighter. Bella hadn't known how he really was when Renee left. She could ascertain from the framed pictures that still hung on the stairs that a part of Charlie had yet to let go of Renee. But upon closer inspection, those pictures always included Bella. Bella as a baby, fresh and pure in the hospital. One family photo: Charlie and Renee posed stiffly, a young baby in her father's arms squinting at the camera. Bella noticed holes on the wall everywhere. Not literal holes that damaged the ancient drywall, but gaps of her history with Charlie. Gaps of his life, the one where Renee ended and he began. There were a few pictures of him and Billy, just over on the mantle, sure. But he was considerably aged. Not the baby-faced lieutenant of Forks PD.
Edward left her. Those three words still caused her stomach to churn and her neck to burn. They got easier to swallow once Jacob came into her life, but they never reached a level that made Bella accept them.
She was determined to find where Edward ended and she began. The beginning was the best place to start once hitting the bottom.
When Bella woke up that dreary morning February—mornings in Forks were usually of the dreary type. (Not when he was here, her subconscious would argue. He'd gently wake you and tease you over your hair or your morning breath or the way your sheets were bundled at the end of your bed.) But she woke up nonetheless, determined to work her way out of this state of being.
In some ways, she felt Renee leaving her father was much worse than Edward simply disappearing. Edward had promised he wouldn't return, he wouldn't exist 70 years down the road when Bella was frail and aging. But Charlie…poor Charlie. Renee was alive. Renee was still breathing. Renee simply moved south, to the sun and the dry heat. She wasn't a supernatural being with vast amounts of money at her fingertips. She couldn't grant Charlie the relief of "not existing." Along with Bella as a large reminder of what once was, Charlie was the most damned out of all the people Bella knew.
The thought made her shudder. How could this man—her father—wake up every day knowing that Renee had ample opportunity to stay, but instead chose to leave?
Edward told Bella he didn't love her. But if she was being completely honest, Bella wasn't that naïve. Edward looked at Bella like Carlisle looked at Esme, like Jasper to Alice, Emmett to Rosalie. Phil to Renee. His mentality of "I don't want you" was clearly false, now that Bella sat back and reevaluated. His cold, calculating actions were an attempt to distance himself, something entirely Edward. If it wasn't so goddamned heartbreaking, and so presumptuous, she'd have been able to laugh about it.
The fact was Edward was gone. And though he was still out there, Bella knew he wouldn't just disappear. Loving someone doesn't get easier when they rest on the periphery of your mind. Bella knew that, now. Bella always knew that. Charlie was proof.
Edward would live, whether he liked it or not, in her memories. She'd protect her heart from the damage Edward had done, sure. But she wouldn't let herself mourn anymore over a soul that wasn't lost.
She had woken up that dreary February morning, and she felt hopeful. He wasn't there to soothe her nightmares or tease her about the puddle of drool on her pillowcase. But being able to recall those things—the way he chuckled quietly, so as not to wake Charlie, the way his slender finger poked and prodded her lukewarm saliva—that gave her enough energy to wake up and decide that he wouldn't get what he wanted.
If anything, Bella Swan was stubborn. And determined. And if some stupid vampire wanted to challenge her memory, well.
Bring it, Edward Cullen.