Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story. The great Stephenie Meyer does. I made quite a few edits to the first two chapters after re-reading them. I wrote them late at night and was satisfied at the time, but the next day I realized the story needed more. I should tell you that this is semi-autobiographical. At least the first relationship Bella is in is. Pathetic, I know. I hope you enjoy!!
Chapter 1: Three Years
BPOV:
"Hey, Bella!" I heard Alice squeal into the phone.
"Hey, Alice. Mike isn't coming home, again. Can we go out tonight?" I pleaded. "I just need to go somewhere, relax, and have a good time."
"Of course. Where's Mike this week that he's not coming home?"
"Portland," I responded dully.
"That's not even far away. Why can't he come home?"
"I don't know."
"He's such a jerk, Bella. I don't know why you waste your time. You can do so much better."
"I don't know either, Alice. We've just been together so long, I don't know how to not be with him. Anyway, I don't think I'll be putting up with it much longer. I want out," I stated simply.
I could hear Alice squealing and clapping her hands wildly in the background, no doubt celebrating my new found determination.
"I'm glad you finally decided to let him go. You deserve so much better than him."
"I know...I really don't want to talk about this right now. Could you call Rose and fill her in?"
"Sure. Meet me at my apartment when you get done with your class."
"Alright. I'll see you later."
"Bye, Bella."
I sighed and flipped my cell phone closed. I sat down on a bench outside of the building my next class was in and closed my eyes to think.
Mike and I had been together for three years. We met a few weeks after my 21st birthday at a local bar. He showed interest in me immediately, but it took some persuasion on his part to convince me that he was worth my time. I had just turned 21, after all. I didn't need anyone tying me down at that point in my life.
Finally, I reluctantly went on a date with him. In hindsight I can say that I only agreed to the date because I was feeling lonely and tired of rejecting him. Of course, one date led to another and eventually we decided to give a relationship a try.
He was really great to me, at first. He would buy me flowers and take me to expensive restaurants every week. Of course, the "newness" of a relationship can only last for so long.
Once it started to wear off, I remembered trying to convince myself that the "honeymoon period" couldn't last forever. When all of my friends told me he wasn't good enough for me, I defended our relationship. I remembered Rosalie telling me that every man is great in the beginning. 'A man who beats his wife didn't start the relationship that way, or they would have never gotten married,' she said. Although Mike had never hit me, this piece of advice seemed to make more sense to me now than it did then.
After about six months, Mike started becoming distant. He worked out of town almost every week, and after a while he started staying away some of the weekends, too. I learned very early in the relationship not to disagree with Mike. On the rare occasion that I did, he would make a caustic comment and then refuse to be a part of the conversation. Which, of course, only fueled my anger more and I would end up fighting a one way battle with him, thus looking like the fool.
It was true, Mike never laid a hand on me, but emotionally he had hurt me. He had made me feel worthless and unloved. I wasn't enough for him to want to come home to spend time with me. It was easier to stay wherever he was because then he didn't have to waste the time and money to come home for only two days–as if seeing me wasn't reward enough for the wasted time and money. I wasn't enough to make him want to discuss things and fix our relationship. Leaving them broken was easier because, for him, it required little or no effort.
After a while, I'd gotten so used to this arrangement that I learned to accept it. Not happily, of course, but enough that I didn't dwell on it most of the time. We moved into an apartment together because neither of us could afford one alone. It was a logical reason to move in together, but not a very intelligent one.He was gone most of the time, anyway, so I had the apartment to myself the majority of the time. I was stretching myself financially at this time with trying to pay for school so I'd convinced myself that this was the right thing to do. I'd deluded myself into thinking that maybe it would turn Mike around if we lived together. I was sadly mistaken.
In a short three years together, Mike had turned me into a pathetic, bitter woman. I was numb. There was no other word for it. I'd learned to shut off my emotions from the world to shield myself from the pain that he continually tried to cause me. I was simply muddling through life letting the world pass me by while I went about my pitiful daily routine just waiting in vein for him to change.
Before I had called Alice, Mike had text me (his usual impersonal means of communication with me) to tell me that he wasn't coming home again this weekend. This would be the third weekend in a row that he hadn't come home. Although I was accustomed to this, it cut me deeper than it normally would. This weekend was our three year anniversary and he wouldn't be coming home.
I didn't bother to text him back. I wasn't even angry. Anger would take too much passion and I didn't care enough squander whatever passion I had left in me. I was just hurt. The time it would have taken to text him back was more energy than I was willing to waste on him at the moment, so I decided instead to call Alice for a girls night out.
I glanced at the time on my cell phone and saw that my class would be starting in five minutes. I stood up and walked for the entrance to the building, trying hard not to think about Mike.
There has to be something better than this, I thought as I walked into the classroom.