FAREWELL

by strcrssdlvr

Edward leaves Bella and she struggles through many difficult situations that lead to a reunion with her lost family. But how long will that reunion last when old enemies come to claim vengeance? Will any of the Cullens survive?

1. MY SWEET PRINCE

***THIS STORY BEGINS AFTER THE EVENTS OF TWILIGHT***

This is my first attempt at fanfiction. I hope you enjoy the rough and tumble ride that you are about to embark upon. I also hope that, if you have the time, you let me know what this story makes you think and feel. Just a reminder, in case you happened to miss it in the summary: this story has a tendency to get dark. So if darkness ain't you're cup of tea, I recommend you seriously contemplate whether or not you want to read this story. This is the only warning I will give you from here on out. Now, onward. Enjoy, darlings.

~Kate

1 ~ MY SWEET PRINCE

"Never thought you'd make me perspire

Never thought I'd do you the same

Never thought I'd fill with desire

Never thought I'd feel so ashamed…

Never thought I'd get any higher

Never thought you'd fuck with my brain

Never thought all this could expire

Never thought you'd go break the chain

Me and you baby

Still flush all the pain away

So before I end my day

Remember, my sweet prince

You are the one…"

My Sweet Prince by Placebo

Tuesday, September 13 to Wednesday, September 14

Bella's POV

If ever I had to choose a perfect day, this would be it. The rain is pouring from the skies and I hate being wet. I am expected at a party in approximately one hour where I am the guest of honor and I hate being the center of attention. I loathe the idea of getting older and today is my eighteenth birthday. But right now none of that matters because nothing could remove the smile from my glowing face.

***

I had spent the majority of the morning sulking over the fact that I had now officially turned a year older than Edward was ever going to be, yet another item to be added to my lengthy mental list of severe inequalities between myself and my immortal love. Edward would forever retain the form of seventeen-year-old perfection and I, well, I, it seemed, was becoming more haggard, more wrinkled, more imperfect with each passing day. Eighteen. I cringed at the number, for it was much more than mere digits in my overactive brain. It was a symbol, a constant reminder of aging, of time, of death. But it wasn't so much the concept of dying that scared me—I had enough brushes with death to suppress any normal fears of that experience. No, it was the idea that my death would bring about our separation.

I had known Edward for only a fraction of my life, but, in that short time, he had become the whole of my world. I could not imagine existing, in any form, without him. I could not fathom heaven as a reality for me if Edward were to remain here on earth indefinitely. I couldn't bear the thought of losing him. He, on the other hand, seemed completely capable of surviving without me. The proof of this fact was evident in his incessant denial to grant my wish to be changed, to remain immortal with him, forever. He may love me as he says, but he surely did not need me as much as I needed him. And that scared me beyond description.

Edward thought it was silly, my view of our differences. He claimed that I was absurdly incapable of seeing myself clearly as if his bemused chuckles and velvet reassurances could somehow quell all of my insecurities and bring forth a sudden epiphany that I truly was worthy of being loved by such a god-like creature. He claimed to be the unworthy one, but that idea was ludicrous. He was the greatest gift I had ever received, the grand prize and I felt like I was merely his consolation. After all, I had little, if anything, to offer. I gave him my love, my trust, my heart, yes, but it seemed inadequate as I denied him my mind, my body. In all fairness, the former was completely beyond my control and the latter was per Edward's insistence, but those facts did not stop my constant desire for something more. I wanted to share everything with him; I wanted to be everything to him. I wanted him not just to love me, but to need me. I wanted, in some aspect, to finally be his equal.

It was somewhere along this line of thinking that I stumbled upon a tempting compromise of sorts. Edward had wanted me to happily celebrate this darkened day, and I could think of one surefire way to make me rocket to cloud nine far enough that I just might grace my party with a genuine smile. I was fairly certain that being wrapped up in the bliss of the afterglow would be enough fuel to feed my smile through much more than an elaborate birthday party. Almost immediately after the thoughts graced my consciousness, my spirits lifted, the wheels of my mind rapidly turning as they performed an unfamiliar task better suited to the whirlwind that was my best friend—scheming.

I was sure both Edward and Alice noticed the change in my demeanor, but, luckily for my blush-prone cheeks and horrible lying skills, they did not question my sudden alteration of moods. I spotted Alice glancing at me a few times with an almost devilish glint in her eye as we exited the school and walked to Edward's Volvo, and I was immediately tempted to crawl into the nearest hole and die of embarrassment when I suddenly remembered—how it had managed to slip my mind, I will never know—that Alice was highly attuned to the futures of her family. It seemed too much to hope for that my decision to seduce Edward had managed to sneak, undetected, by her clairvoyant Cullen radar, but if the resident psychic had sensed even the slightest hint of my plan, she covered it well as she kissed my cheek and gushed "You're going to have so much fun at the party," before dancing off toward their home.

I took a deep breath and tried to forget about visions and insecurities and fear. I had intended the coming hours to be about me and Edward, about expressing our desires, not separated as we so often were by our classifications as a vampire and a human, but united as, simply, a man and a woman in love. If seeing that through meant that our activities would be broadcast on the Alice News Network, well, then that would just be the price I was going to have to pay. All things considered, the benefits of sharing myself with Edward so intimately were worth any imaginable cost. I could only hope to convince him of this when we arrived at my house.

And to be quite honest, I was more than a little concerned about my ability to do so. I had spent the better part of the afternoon oblivious to the constant chatter of my teachers, deciding that it was a much more pressing matter to decipher all possible ways to break down Edward's resolve. I was fairly certain that I would need to utilize every available second to my advantage, but as we drew nearer to my home, it became increasingly more difficult to continue plotting and devastatingly easy to succumb to his close proximity, to my own pleasurable fantasies.

I studied his chiseled features, blissfully imagining what I hoped lay in store for us once we reached my bedroom. My eyes traced a downward path from his perfectly unkempt hair—God, how I wanted to run my fingers through it at that very second—to his delectable lips. I lightly bit my own lip and toyed with the bracelet on my wrist as I thought about kissing him, about really kissing him. And not just on his lips—I wanted to kiss him everywhere. I wanted to explore every part of him, taste every patch of his skin as if I were starving and he was the only sustenance my mouth, my entire body had longed for.

I couldn't help but get lost in my own heavenly fantasy until I heard angelic laughter that snapped my mind back to the reality at hand. My eyes focused on Edward's amused face as he stood before me in the rain, the passenger door of his Volvo opened and his hand poised to help me rise out of the car and above my daydreams. A traitorous blush rose to my cheeks and I instantly looked to my feet, but he knelt down and gently lifted my chin with his cool fingertip so that he could stare into my eyes. For a moment, we just gazed at each other, and I could have sworn that, just for that one second, his breathing caught and his eyes flickered with the same lust I knew was evident in my own. As quickly as it had come, though—provided that it had even been there at all—his expression became one that I knew all-too-well: controlled, serious, no-nonsense Edward.

"Sometimes, love, I swear I would give up anything to know what you were thinking." His voice initially lacked its velvety smoothness, and I dared to hope that the husky undertones meant that his mind was somewhere in the sinful realm of my own. If only he did know my thoughts, just this once—I wondered how he would react. Would he finally allow himself to lose just a smidgeon of his control so that we could love each other completely? Would he finally learn to trust himself enough to let go? No, probably not I thought as the rational part of my brain took over. He would most likely extend our boundaries even further, and that was something that I simply could not tolerate. At that moment, I was rather thankful that I was the one person whose mind was immune to Edward's special abilities. The last thing I needed was an all-out no touching rule enforced.

My hours of careful planning seemed inadequate when pitted against his decades of cautious control, because as my heart was still racing and I was struggling to rein in my sporadic breathing, he had fully regained his composure and again offered his hand to me saying, "Arise, fair sun. Romeo and Julietawait." I groaned before I had the good sense to stifle my distaste; watching the movie was, after all, the excuse I had used first, to delay my party and second, to convince Edward to spend the entire afternoon at my house sans interruptive siblings and parents. I should probably at least try to make it seem like I was looking forward to the film. For now.

Edward unlocked the door and led me into the kitchen, depositing our bags, as usual, on the empty table. He turned to look at me and I knew it was time. I needed to be confident, smooth, sexy—in other words, I would have to undergo an immediate personality overhaul—but I was bound and determined to do whatever was necessary. I took a deep breath, smiled and wrapped my arms around his solid torso. His own arms instantly mimicked mine and he gently kissed the top of my forehead. His gray button-down shirt was drenched from standing outside in the rain, and as the water began to seep into my own clothing, I realized that the gloomy Forks weather had finally been a blessing rather than an annoyance.

I took a step back, looked down at my dampened blue sweater and said, "Um, Edward? I don't think that snuggling up for a movie in soaking wet clothing is going to be overly comfortable. How about we change first?" It was a reasonable request, I knew, but I couldn't keep from biting my lip as I waited for him to respond.

He gave me his signature, crooked smile and ran his hands through his dripping wet hair as he conceded, "You're probably right." He grabbed my hand, led me to my room and I let out a sigh of relief. The first major threshold—getting Edward to my room when we were supposed to be watching a movie in the living area—had been crossed. He grabbed a spare shirt and pair of pants from my bottom dresser drawer—he had decided to keep extras in my room since he rarely spent the night at his own house—and said, "I'll be right back," before he was out the door and in the bathroom.

Okay, Bella I thought, giving myself a mini pep talk. You can do this. It's time to get sexy. I quickly removed my clothing, replaced my plain-Jane undergarments with the only lacy set I owned—I still wasn't quite sure where they came from, but my money was on Alice—and made my way to my closet. I started shoving shoes and hangers and piles of clothing out of the way as I searched near the back for the striped bag that I never in a million years imagined I would want to see again. Finally, as I tossed one dirty old converse and a shirt I could swear I hadn't seen since I was ten out of the way, I found what I had been looking for. I moved the pink tissue paper aside and pulled out the midnight blue silky pajama set Renee had gotten me exactly three years ago, thankful that she had sent them with the rest of my belongings from the house in Phoenix when she and Phil had officially moved to Jacksonville. I ripped off the tags and slipped them on before throwing the bag back into the abyss of my closet. The set's cropped camisole and low-rise pants definitely didn't qualify as lingerie in my dictionary, but something about wearing a silk ensemble that showed off a considerable amount of skin on my upper body, certainly more than I had ever displayed in Forks, filled me with an air of sultriness, of seduction, and that was precisely what I needed.

I had intended to hurry over to my mirror and give myself a final once-over before Edward returned, but as my bad luck would have it, I tripped over one of my pant legs and went tumbling banana-peel style toward the floor. I landed on my butt with an ungraceful thud and in less than a second, my door flew open and Edward was kneeling in front of me, saying in worried tones, "Bella are you alright? What happened? Are you hurt?" My face was surely a deep crimson by this point, and my emotions were torn between teary-eyed embarrassment and frustration-induced maniacal giggling because it just figured that I couldn't forgo being a klutz on the one day when I was trying exceptionally hard not to make a fool of myself. It didn't take much deliberation before I succumbed to the giggle fit.

Edward drew back momentarily, confused by the absurdity of my laughter, but then an amused smile lit up his face as he watched my body shake in merriment. I attempted to stand, and he instinctively grabbed my arm to help me to my feet. I made it upright, but the remnants of my laughter left me slightly wobbly, and Edward's other hand snaked around my waist to help me steady myself. I felt him stiffen and draw in an unsteady breath in the same instant that my own body was shocked to life by the touch of his cool fingers on the bare, heated skin of my stomach. Edward had never even seen my stomach, let alone touched it, and it appeared as though he had only then realized that I wasn't wearing my usual, safe comfy time garb. As soon as I appeared stable on my own two feet, Edward backed away from me and toward the door, his eyes darting everywhere except in my direction.

I watched him closely, and noticed that his breathing was erratic and his hands—his hands were shaking. If I didn't know better, I would have sworn that Edward Cullen—Mr. Cool as a Cucumber all day, every day—was nervous. At first, I thought I might be imagining it, but then he spoke, no, he mumbled, "Bella, I, I'm sorry. I didn't realize—I just heard—and I thought—" he hung his head and continued, "I'll wait outside until you finish getting dressed." Edward did not mumble. Ever. It wasn't in my imagination after all: he was jittery and my plans were falling nicely into place.

"Edward," I said with a broad, reassuring smile on my face, the sound of my voice halting him in his tracks though he still refused to raise his eyes from the ground. I walked toward him and placed a soothing hand on his arm. His eyes moved to my fingers and then quickly returned to the floor. "Edward, I am finished getting dressed," I continued lightly, trying to disguise my gaiety. "Renee got this for me as a birthday present."

"Alice must have forgotten to mention it," he said hastily through tight lips, his voice breaking uncharacteristically. "I'll have to remember to thank her for that," he continued, almost inaudibly, and then raised the volume of his words to a more human level as he looked at my face—and no lower—and said, "So why is it that you seem to be happy about this birthday present and not about any other? Perhaps I'll have to start getting gift-giving advice from Renee." He smiled at me and my mind when fuzzy for about a second before I realized what that sly, dazzling vampire was up to.

I could tell that he was attempting to regain his control, and I was having none of that. "Actually," I began as I gave his arm a gentle tug and he cautiously followed me to sit on my bed, "I wanted to talk to you about that."

"Oh?" he asked, genuine interest shining in his eyes. He scooted closer to me, though I imagined that his proximity stemmed more from the desire to prevent the full view of my body from reaching his eyes than it did from a longing to sit nearer to me. I mentally shrugged. His reasoning was immaterial; the closer his body to mine, the better.

"Yes. You see, I've been thinking about how I've been such a poor sport today when all any of you really wanted was to see me happily celebrate my birthday. So, in trying to come up with a suitable compromise, I realized that there was something that would make this day overly spectacular for me, and the best part of it is, the gift that I want doesn't cost a single cent." My smile became continuously wider as I spoke but died when I finished and saw his body tensing up yet again as his facial expression soured.

"Bella, we've talked about this. I'm not going to end your lif—" I put a finger on his lips to stop his words. I should have known he would automatically think I was talking about being changed. I wondered if my true desire at this moment would acquire a similar negative reaction. I fervently hoped not.

"I'm not talking about being changed. In fact, you aren't even in the right ballpark."

Edward's face instantly brightened. "Alright, love. What is it that you want then?"

For no other reason than the fact that at that exact moment, I didn't know how to appropriately dictate that I wanted the two of us, naked, in my bed, I mischievously replied, "Guess."

He looked at me, puzzled and delighted as his brow furrowed in thought. While he was preoccupied with figuring out my request before I could tell him, I leaned in and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. That was merely the starting point, though, because I followed an invisible pecking trail downward to his neck, then propped my hand on his thigh to steady myself as I kissed my way over to his Adam's apple. Eventually, my kisses led me to his perfect lips. I was extremely careful not to cross any of his boundaries just yet, and was rewarded when he gently returned my kisses and wrapped his cool hand overtop of the one I had resting on his leg. My tongue flicked out of my mouth and grazed his lower lip before retreating to the safety of its home and I could feel him smile.

"I can't think when you do that," he said as he broke the kiss and nuzzled his cheek against mine.

"My humblest apologies," I said in a mock-serious tone. "I will do my best to refrain from distracting you while you attempt to uncover my mysterious wish." I giggled and crawled behind his pensive form, wrapping my arms loosely around his neck. I inhaled deeply, reveling in his divine scent, and my brazen behavior returned. I kissed the back of his neck this time, and then I somehow became distracted by his ear. It was beautiful, just like the rest of him, and for the first time ever, I gave it my full attention. I kissed it all around and then gently began sucking on the lower portion of its lobe, nipping at it every so often because it seemed a touch more delicate than the rest of Edward's rock hard body. This was a new experience and I did my best not to cross any lines, but I could feel the handle on my control slipping away every second, especially when Edward's breathing quickened ever so slightly. I allowed myself a few more minutes of devotion to that magnificent ear before I kissed my way back to his mouth and reluctantly forced my lips to break their contact with his skin.

"So," I murmured, "Did you figure out what I want for my birthday?" I felt as though I was making it blatantly obvious, but considering the fact that he was still seated here, with my arms wrapped around him, I doubted he had even the faintest clue what I was up to.

"No," he stated, his eyes closed and the hint of a smirk on his lips. "For some unknown reason, I am having an overwhelmingly difficult time thinking about anything."

"Hmmm," I whispered as I slowly swung myself around him, never removing my arms from his neck, and seated myself in his lap. He didn't immediately become rigid, and I took it as a good sign that he lightly wrapped his arms around my torso, though he was careful to touch me only at a level where my body was covered by the thin layer of cloth. He was so close; I simply couldn't resist kissing his cheek, his chin, his neck just a few more times.

I felt his skin vibrate against my lips as he swallowed hard and then chuckled; the sound was unusually strained and his breathing was becoming heavier, so I leaned away the tiniest bit and stared into his golden eyes. Their extremely light coloring provided evidence of Edward's hunting trip last night and I inwardly gave thanks to whichever one of his siblings had demanded he leave my side and quench his thirst this time. He was constantly trying to build his tolerance and had been going for longer and longer periods between hunting excursions, and I was pleased that, at the very least, he wouldn't be able to use his empty stomach as an excuse to deny my request. Now there were only about a thousand other arguments I needed to surpass. But surpass them I would.

"Tell me. What is it you want, my birthday girl, now that you have so graciously decided to accept my gifts?" The absence of my kisses seemed to have allowed his breathing to return to normal, and his eyes were now sparkling with curiosity. He smiled his crooked smile and, for a moment, I completely forgot both the question and the answer as I got lost in dazzling honey.

But only for a moment. I was committed to seeing this through and no amount of effortless bewildering on Edward's part was going to distract me. "Well," I began as I moved to straddle his lap and tightly grip the collar of his white button-down shirt, my actions hopefully illustrating the significance of my request. My heartbeat started to climb steadily as the nervousness began to coil within me, the result of both the current position of our bodies and the words I was about to say. I averted my eyes from his beautiful face and intently focused them on the top button of his shirt in an effort to distract myself. Thankfully, the intense concentration helped to calm my anxieties as I took a deep breath, mustered every ounce of courage I possessed in my small frame and continued, "Edward, I want you for my birthday." I allowed my eyes to flitter up to his, and I was a tad discouraged when I saw him frown.

"Well, that isn't much of a gift. I fell in love with you the moment I heard you whisper my name in your sleep. There must be something else—"

I shook my head, interrupting him, surprised that for all his knowledge and intelligence he could still be so completely clueless. "No, Edward, you don't understand." I stared at the temptation of that top button, and wondered if perhaps I should help him see the light by telling him and showing him what it was that I desired. "What I meant was," I paused and made a split-second decision to just go for it. "I meant that I want all of you," I said as I timidly fumbled with releasing the button. Edward's golden eyes narrowed in confusion for the briefest instant, so fleetingly that I almost missed it, but I took advantage of his perplexed state and moved to unfasten the next button. I managed to undo that one as well before the realization of my request struck him and his hands moved from around my waist to gently, but firmly, grip my wrists and prevent my fingers from opening his shirt any further. I stared at the beauty of his exposed skin, though it wasn't nearly enough, and waited for the disagreement that I knew was coming.

"Absolutely not," Edward stated, his velvety voice solid, final. I knew it was going to be extremely difficult to persuade him to change his mind, but I had been expecting this reaction and I was fully prepared to argue my valid points.

"Edward, I don't see why—" I began, but he sighed, pursed his lips and cut off my words with the shake of his head.

"It's just not possible, Isabella. If you had any idea how—" His use of my full name was a bad sign of his stubbornness, but two could play the interrupting game.

I gazed heatedly into his eyes and tenaciously asked, "How do you know it's not possible? Have you ever tried it?" I knew the answer to my query, but I wanted him to acknowledge it, to begin to question his own logic, even if it were only for an instant, because it would only take one millisecond for a seed of doubt to be planted in his mind.

His nostrils flared in frustration and he replied, "No, of course I haven't, but I don't need to try it to know that it is dangerous." His eyes were demanding that I listen to him, but I refused to fall into their hypnotic trap. "I can't ever lose control with you, Bella. Even after all of this time, there are still moments when I'm with you where I struggle with my nature. I can't risk your safety for—"

I gently placed my palms on the sides of his face and traced the lines of his cheekbones back and forth with my thumbs as I interjected, "I trust you." The truth of my words was evident in my eyes, but when he moved his gaze to a far-off point beyond the wordless pleas of my face, I knew that our quarrel was far from over.

"I don't," he whispered. The room was silent for a moment as we both struggled with our thoughts and then he removed his hands from my wrists and ran them through his still-damp hair. With every passing second, I knew that his resolve was becoming stronger; I needed to act quickly before he lifted me off of him and escaped to the other side of the room. I needed to somehow convince him of the goodness within him that he refused to see. I needed him to trust me and my judgment enough to allow him to trust himself.

"Edward," I softly said, "Please look at me." He complied and I gazed heartbrokenly into his saddened eyes. This was supposed to be a happy afternoon and it was heading south much too quickly. I had to fix this; I had to make him understand. "Edward, I love you, and I want to share myself with you in every way." His mouth opened to protest but I moved my thumbs to his lips and continued, "No, let me finish. I didn't just make this decision rashly, without thorough consideration; I've actually been thinking about it for quite some time. I have been careful to adhere to your guidelines for a physical relationship up until now because you asked me to, but while we have been tiptoeing around each other's bodies I have also been looking for any signs that you are about to lose control, signs that all of this caution was for a legitimate reason, and I have never, not even once, seen any. You have been put to the test over and over again and each time, you have prevailed against your dark side. I know that you, that we can do this.

And, in light of the fact that I have decided to celebrate my birthday and accept presents and enjoy myself, this is the present that I am asking from you: trust me enough to find trust in yourself." My speech was taking on a very serious edge, and I needed to lighten the mood in order to keep a tight hold on my sanity, so I continued, "Besides, didn't Alice say that everyone is supposed to give you your way on your birthday? Give me my way, Edward. Please?" I waited for him to respond, praying that my little monologue had made some sort of an impact.

"Since when did you start listening to Alice?" he said, his tone still serious, unyielding. I was finding it hard to breathe. Edward sighed and then looked into my diffident eyes. "Bella, I do trust you. But—"

He continued to speak, but I couldn't bring myself to listen. My carefully constructed mask of confidence was rapidly crumbling down around me and before I could prevent it, a sudden wave of vulnerability washed over me. I felt my lip quiver and I bit down on it a little too harshly in a last-ditch effort to stop my tears from falling. I tasted a hint of salt and iron on my tongue from the tiny droplet of blood that pooled on my lower lip as I swallowed hard and whispered, "Don't you want me?" In that one, short question was stored every insecurity, every fear, every doubt that I had ever felt about his love for me. Each day I forced myself to push them aside, to believe that, for whatever mind-boggling reason, I had managed to win Edward's heart, but in that moment, everything had come bubbling to the surface and I was finding it entirely too difficult to suppress my worries. Much to my chagrin, my tears began to fall, and I clenched my eyes shut so that I wouldn't have to see his reaction to my tragic display.

Edward wrapped his arms around my trembling body and held me against his chest as he said, "Of course I do." He pulled away from me and tilted my chin upward, but I refused to open my eyes and grant him his silent wish. "Love, please," he whispered and I felt his lips begin to kiss the streaks of my tears. Eventually, I caved and my eyes fluttered open to view a blurred version of his face. "Bella, I don't deny you this wish because I don't desire you. You can't even begin to imagine how much I want to give in to you right now. But if—"

"Then do," I stated, simply. His expression emphasized the sincerity of his previous words, and I knew that I still had a strong chance of convincing him, but I was too deflated to put up a good fight now, so I decided to bargain rather than demand. "I just want to try, Edward. I'm not asking you for any guarantees. I'm not hoarding any expectations. I just want to erase your carefully draw lines for one day and make an attempt at loving your body in every way. If it doesn't work out, that's okay. I will be content in knowing that we at least tried."

Edward inhaled deeply and stared into my eyes as if they held the solution to the battle I could see raging within him. I had no way of knowing what he would ultimately decide, so I chose to use the moments I was certain to have left to touch his body, to make peace with whatever the future had in store for us today. I slowly moved my palm beneath the fabric of his shirt and slid it upwards to rest above his still heart, the piece of his body that, no matter the outcome of my request, he had promised would always be mine. Then I leaned in and tenderly, chastely, kissed his lips.

At first, he was hesitant to react, but then his arms tightened around me and his mouth moved against mine. After a few minutes of exchanging soft kisses, his lips broke from mine and he leaned his forehead against my own as he whispered the words that were music to my ears. "Slowly. We can try to do this slowly. But you have to promise me that you will tell me if I do something wrong. You have to promise me that we will stop if I come even remotely close to losing control."

I didn't even need time to consider his requests before I said, "I promise." I slipped my hand away from his chest and wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his neck and my hands in his hair. I wrapped my feet behind his back as he released his hold on me so that he could slide us both toward the head of my bed. Once there, I moved so that I was kneeling over his lap and I began kissing him. He placed his hands on my ribcage, then, tentatively, slid them down until his fingers were caressing the skin of my waist. His thumbs stretched inward until they met and drew an arc around my belly button and then he retraced his path until his palms came to rest on my back.

I knew that I needed to take things slowly, like he said, but my body was surging with the electricity of his touch and my mind was buzzing with all of the parts of him that I wanted to see, to feel, to taste. It was hard to hold back, but somehow I managed to overcome my racing mind and body and concentrate on the leftover buttons of his shirt. The task was more difficult without the aid of my eyes, but I couldn't bring myself to stop kissing him, so my fingers blindly worked at his shirt until they finally managed to separate the two halves and reveal Edward's stone chest. He leaned forward so that I could slide the shirt over his shoulders, and when it was fully removed, I tossed it behind me, unconcerned with where it landed.

I was torn between continuing the dance of our mouths and pausing to admire his exposed skin, and, eventually, my curiosity won out. I leaned away from him and gazed in awe at the ethereal beauty of his chest and stomach. I had seen him like this only once before, in the meadow, but I hadn't fully examined his perfection then because I was preoccupied with the way his skin was sparkling in the sunlight. Now that I was free from that distraction, my fingers traced every line of his abdomen and then moved upwards to draw a spiral around his rock-hard nipples. His breathing became ragged and his hands moved from my back to clutch the blankets beneath us.

But it wasn't enough. I wanted to explore him further. So I gently pushed him down, with his compliance, his eyes never leaving mine as I lowered my head to his stomach and retraced the path of my fingers with my eager mouth. I could feel the heat gathering in my cheeks as I kissed and nipped at the two tiny nubs on his chest, but every fragment of nervousness caused by my innocence and inexperience was slipping away and being replaced by pure physical instinct. I didn't know how or why or what I was doing, but I did know that every cell in my body was screaming that I needed to do it. The feel of Edward's skin against my lips was becoming an addiction and I feared I would never be able to get enough of it.

I took my time learning everything there was to know about his upper body, but my meandering mouth eventually drew closer and closer to the edge of his jeans. His breathing, unnecessary as it was, became unsteady and more rapid with each passing inch, and when I grew bold and grasped the hem of his pants, unhooking the button, Edward let out a low growl and slid himself upright, softly squeezing my hands with his own.

At first, I was afraid that I had gone too far and he was going to put an end to my fun, but when I looked into his eyes, I saw a flash of mischief in them before his crooked smile captured my attention. He leaned in toward my ear, nuzzled against it with his nose and then whispered, "My turn." My heart began to race even faster as his hands returned to the exposed skin of my body and I closed my eyes and allowed myself to shut everything out but the spark of his cool touch on my fiery body. His fingertips gently rubbed my back and then slyly moved beneath the silk of my camisole. He gripped the fabric and moved it upward at a frustratingly slow pace, stopping his movements to huskily ask, "Is this okay?" I opened my eyes, bit my lip and gave him a timid smile before nodding my head in answer. As soon as I had given him the go-ahead, Edward was pulling the blue fabric up and over my head and throwing it haphazardly across the room.

His eyes drank in the sight of my body as every other part of him stopped functioning. He didn't breathe, didn't speak, didn't move; he merely looked at the flushed skin of my chest as if the sight had cast a spell upon him. I tried to remain still, but eventually I became restless and I placed my arms on the bed and arched my back away from him as he held me at my waist. My movement effectively broke him from his trance as he drew in a deep breath, and when I leaned in to kiss him, I inadvertently pressed my lower body against his. He half-groaned, half-hissed my name before his lips crashed into mine and I felt, for the very first time, just how much he truly did desire me. I experimentally rubbed against his hardened body and was enthralled when each of my movements was met with a low groan from Edward's throat. I thought my body was going to catch on fire as I felt him beneath me, through the layers of our clothing, and my hands took on a mind of their own as they moved between us and gripped the zipper of his jeans.

"Bel—la," Edward gasped, pulling my hands away from his pants and gripping my wrists behind my back in one of his fists before bringing his free hand up to cradle the back of my neck. I leaned my head back to welcome his kisses along my collarbone and when his cool lips moved to the scorching skin of my upper body, I struggled to catch my breath. His adoring mouth moved over my panting chest, kissing down the center of my ribs until he reached the fabric of my bra which he pulled away from my skin, sliced between his teeth, and, in one inhumanly fast maneuver, slid down my arms before tossing it to the floor.

"Hey, that's cheat—" I began, but when his icy mouth surrounded my nipple, my brain turned to mush and I forgot how to form words. Whimpers of "mmm" and "ahh" were the full extent of my vocal communication skills for a period of about five minutes as Edward kissed and licked and teased and lightly pinched the sensitive areas of my chest. When he blew his cool breath on the moistened nubs, a delightful shiver traveled throughout my entire body and I couldn't help the loud moan that escaped my lips. His kisses paused and I felt him smile against my stomach. He gradually made his way back up my body, and despite my attempts at getting him to meet my lips with his, he paused at my neck and lingered there, kissing and licking and then gently sucking my delicate skin, though I could tell he took care never to graze my body with his teeth. I pulled on his hair and bit at his ear and dug my fingers into his shoulders as deeply as I could manage, but still he remained in that one spot as if his lips had taken up residence there. Edward was driving my body insane with longing and I was fairly certain he knew it. And while it was definitely enjoyable, I thought it was high time he got a taste of his own exquisite medicine.

I raised my body ever so slightly and moved my hands, as stealthily as possible, back to his partially opened zipper. Edward was either too preoccupied with what he was doing, or he simply didn't mind what I was doing, because he didn't stop me as I finished the task of opening his jeans. He was currently sitting against the wall with me on top of him—not exactly a prime position for the removal of pants—so in an effort not to disturb him, I reached my hand between the fabrics of his boxers and his jeans in lieu of ridding his body of the garments altogether. I snaked my fingers through the opening of his boxers and wrapped them around the glorious new part of him that I had been searching for. Edward immediately broke away from my neck, sucked in his breath, and looked from my eyes to my hand and back again.

I bit my lip, smiled coyly, and then said, "Glad to see I finally got your attention," before I snugly gripped his cool skin and rapidly moved my hand back and forth. He groaned at the motion and then, before I was sure of what was happening, he had flipped us over and I was on my back, pinned against the bed. Edward's hands were placed on either side of my shoulders, supporting his weight as he hovered above me with a lustful expression on his face. I had somehow managed to keep my hold on him during our rapid position switch, and when I regained my bearings and realized this, I continued my stroking motions.

Edward reached between us with his one hand and gripped it over mine to halt my motions as he murmured, "Bella, love, you never lost my attention, I assure you." He released my hand, allowing me to continue my prior activities, and then leaned down to gently, slowly, passionately kiss my lips. For the first time, his tongue traced the edge of my mouth and then slipped inside, and I got caught up in the taste of him. It felt as though I was catching sweet, sugary snowflakes on the tip my tongue and my mind was unable to fathom anything except the desire for this feeling to never stop. I whimpered against his lips and allowed my own tongue to flicker against his as the strokes of my hand around him became more rapid. He drew back and whispered between panting breaths, "Isa—Bell—please—wait."

I did as he asked and stopped my movements, releasing him from my hold so I could, instead, grip the hem of his pants, and his boxers, and slide them slowly down the length of his legs. When my hands could move his clothing no further, I pushed them with my feet until they were successfully surrounding his ankles. Edward stood and kicked them the rest of the way off before he gripped the bottom hems of my pajama pants and tugged them off as well. As he stood in front of me, I was given ample time to admire his fully naked body, which was, unsurprisingly, the very definition of male anatomy at its perfection. I sighed as my eyes absorbed every inch of him, especially the many inches that stood at attention and, in my aroused mind, were just begging me to touch them.

Once my pants had joined the growing pile of our clothing, Edward knelt beside me on the bed and slowly kissed from my left foot to the bone of my hip, crossed and carefully sliced through the lacy fabric of my underwear, then repeated the process on my right side until he could easily clench the silk and lace shreds in his mouth, yank them out from under my body and powerfully blow them onto the covered floor. I blushed as he studied and traced his fingertips down the length of my now-naked body, and was shocked when his right hand slid between my legs and started touching my heated center. I cried out when one of his fingers slipped inside of me, and bit down on my lower lip when the first was joined by another. Edward's movements were slow, deliberate, maddening. I grasped my sheets in my fists and held on tightly as my body began to twist and writhe and spiral into nirvana. Edward had been wrong; he wasn't at risk of losing his control. If anything, he had too much of it. He continued with his slow finger thrusts, torturing me, angering me, forcing me to beg him to stop this wicked torment. "Edward," I gasped. "Please."

He returned to his one-armed hovering position, his fingers still within me as he kissed my lips tenderly and whispered, "Edward please what?" I looked up and saw his impish grin and in that moment, I was convinced: Edward Cullen was the devil incarnate. And despite his evil tendencies, I was wildly in love with him. I raised my hips against his movements and the moment I did so, he withdrew his fingers altogether. My body instantly felt the loss of his touch, and I would have protested had he not lowered himself to rest gently between my legs. All signs of tomfoolery were gone as his breathing became labored. He gazed into my eyes and then huskily said, "Bella, I love you and all I want is to make you happy. So far, this has gone far better than I ever could have hoped, but we are nearing a point now where I don't know what will happen to my control. I am fairly certain that I won't lose myself enough to hurt you, but I don't know if I'll be able to stop once we've begun. If you changed your mind, if this isn't what you want, you have to tell me now." I knew a part of him was asking me to end this, was begging me to be safe, cautious but it wasn't the dominant part and I had no desire to stop what we had started.

I chose not to immediately answer him with words; instead I reached between us, grasped him with both of my hands and guided him to the part of my body that desperately craved his attention. When he showed no signs of moving toward me, my hips lifted, inviting him into me, but still he did not budge. "Edward, I want this. I want you. I love you. Please. Now." I watched as his eyes changed from a golden honey to a deep chestnut and then I felt him slowly slide into my body.

It was painful at first as my narrow opening stretched and formed around his hardness, and, though I tried not to, I bit down on my lip and winced in discomfort. Edward noticed instantly and was about to withdraw from me, but I scratched my fingernails down his back and commanded, "Stay." He complied, moving unhurriedly and carefully watching my expression at every moment. After no more than a minute of steady advances and soreness Edward had reached my body's barrier and in one swift thrust, he broke through it. I cried out, but managed a feeble smile of reassurance when he pulled back slightly, so he once again slid deeply into me.

He rested there for the briefest of instants and then restarted his motions. I heard him softly moan, "Isabella," before he began to pick up the range and pace of his movements. He kissed my lips gently as I whimpered into his mouth, and then traced their outline with his tongue. I removed my hands from his back and brought them up to fist in my hair, twisting strands around my fingers and forcefully tugging on them in an effort to distract myself from the vexatious sensations that his mouth was inflicting upon my swollen lips.

Seconds later, he gasped and the color of his eyes grew darker, until they were on the brink of pure ebony. "Bella, your lip—you taste—" he sputtered. For the first time since I had known him, Edward's expression was completely unguarded. I saw his every emotion in the sable pools of his eyes. I saw his longing, his raging thirst. I saw his inward battle to keep the evil within him at bay. And I saw the reason for his struggle: blood from my lip—the one I had bitten repeatedly this afternoon—was staining his mouth. I knew that I should be scared. I knew that the taste of my blood on his tongue would be an almost insurmountable temptation to his instincts. But my reaction to Edward in that moment was the same as it had always been: I could not bring myself to fear him. I trusted him now, just as I always had, to keep the monster away. I trusted him to protect me. I couldn't bring myself to stop his movements because Edward making love to me was completing my body in the same way that his devotion had fulfilled the longing in my heart.

I saw him tremble as he licked the blood from his mouth before he let out a guttural growl, forcefully gripped my wrists above my head as if restraining my movements and then began thrusting into me more vigorously. Despite his roughness, the feeling of his body penetrating mine became more and more satisfying and stimulating as the minutes passed. Every muscle in my body was humming with electricity, sparking bursts of energy and passion each time he withdrew and winding me tighter and tighter when he plunged deeply inside of me. I lifted my hips and matched his movements, yearning for release, certain that I was going to explode. I wrapped my legs around him and struggled against his hold on my wrists. I wanted to touch him, tease him, rake my nails over his stone body as I continued my slow ascent into oblivion. I moaned and cried out and gasped his name as he turned every cell in my body into a live wire that sent currents of aching need coursing through me.

He began showering my face, my neck, my chest with kisses, and when I felt a tugging sensation where the blood rapidly pulsed through my veins, I realized that he was sucking on my neck. He released my hands and gently dug one set of his fingertips into the skin of my left thigh as he pulled it upwards, forcing it to bend and form around his lower back. The adjustment allowed him to sink even deeper within me, and the air filled with a snarling cry that I could scarcely believe had stemmed from my throat. The sensations should have been painful, but instead they served only to increase my pleasure. His groans mingled with mine and soon all of the sounds and the smells and the tastes and the feelings building within the room pushed me further and further until I toppled over the edge into ecstasy, my body shivering and pulsing as I peaked, then slowly floated down from what was undoubtedly the greatest high in the world.

Seconds later, Edward drove into me one last time before I felt his body pulsating deep inside of mine, his movements joined by a muffled shout and what sounded like ripping fabric echoing near my ear. When the throbbing stopped, he rolled onto his back beside me and pulled my blanket up to cover my still-quivering form. But unlike the many nights where he stayed on top of the blanket while I was nestled warmly inside of it, he also covered himself and pulled me against his cool, marble skin. I closed my eyes and focused on preventing my heart from beating out of my chest as I snuggled against him and continued to ride on the waves of sheer bliss. I was convinced that I could stay right here for an eternity and never be happier.

Once my body returned as close to normal as it was ever going to get, I opened my eyes and followed the slow path that my fingers had been making on Edward's bare chest as he held me tightly. I stole a glance at his face as my palm came to rest just above his heart, and, when I did so, I made two distinct observations: first, Edward's unruly hair was sprinkled with some sort of white fuzz-like substance and second, his eyes were closed tightly and his mouth was pressed into a thin, straight line. If it hadn't been for the latter, the sight of what I assumed to be feathers suspended amid his copper tresses—escapees from the large gash in my pillow—would have caused me to giggle. As it were, the seriousness of his expression brought all of my lighthearted, jesting thoughts to an abrupt standstill. As I studied him, I wished that I could hear what he was thinking, that he would share with me whatever secrets he was hiding behind his closed eyelids.

Then again, it was very likely that I should be careful what I wished for. Would I be able to stand it if he was unhappy, if he regretted what I considered to be the most perfect experience of my life? Would I be able to handle the knowledge if I hadn't pleased him as I had intended, if we were, yet again, on unequal footing? Thanks to the onrush of such disheartening questions, my lovers high was rapidly fading, and in its wake was left all of my previously-abandoned insecurities. I fought to overcome them once again, forced myself to remember his words, his smiles, his touches. I chanted to myself that Edward loved me, that I was just allowing my foolish imagination to run away with me, and, gradually, I relaxed. I had gotten everything that I had wanted and I resolved that nothing, not even my persistent reservations, was going to spoil this day.

I turned my head and glanced at the alarm clock perched on my nightstand. Ugh. Except for maybe that I thought as the glowing numbers brought me back to the reality that Edward's family was expecting us at their house in a little less than thirty minutes. And I still needed to take a shower and rummage through my belongings to find clothing that would conceal the marks that I was fairly certain Edward's delicious lips had left on my neck. His family was perceptive enough without the aid of visible red markings and I felt it was prudent for the preservation of my sanity that Edward and I keep our lovemaking a secret for as long as possible.

Though it was the absolute last thing I felt like doing, I decided to get my blissfully exhausted butt out of bed. I glanced at Edward and grinned as a touch to my head revealed a similar tuft of white nestled between my own dampened locks. I added another task to my pre-party to-do list: remove all fluffy stuff from my tangled hair. I leaned in and kissed his cheek, hoping to catch a glimpse of his gorgeous honey eyes before I left to take a shower. Edward's eyes fluttered open and, while his expression was unquestionably solemn, I simply couldn't take him seriously with all of those feathers on his head. I started to laugh.

"What could you possibly find humorous about this situation?" he asked in an almost harsh tone, and, while I immediately sobered up, I refused to allow his current mood to weaken my lifted spirits.

"Oh, I don't know," I replied. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I just had the most incredibly amazing physical encounter with the man I love. Or maybe it has something to do with the sight of your perfect head covered in feathers." I thought about it for a moment while I tried to read his expression and then continued, "No, no. It's definitely just the feathers. By the way, what did my pillow ever do to you?" I couldn't help it when the giggles started again.

"Isabella," he said sternly as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, "This is not funny. I was close, much, much too close, to completely losing my control. Those shreds in your pillow—they could have been your neck." His voice became a whisper as he hung his head in shame. "They almost were. I almost killed you."

His admission barely affected me; after all, it wasn't the first time he had almost killed me, and I had come to accept the dangers that went along with loving him from the moment I learned what he was. "But you didn't." I said firmly. "So stop beating yourself up about it. I'm fine, better than fine, actually—I'm elated. Please let go of whatever guilt is running amuck in that brain of yours and be happy, smile, laugh." He sighed, but his expression didn't change. "Please, Edward, for me? For my birthday?" He pursed his lips, and then, ever so slowly, his mouth twisted upward into a lopsided grin.

"Alright, love, I'll let it go. For today. But tomorrow, we are going to discuss this." I could handle that, as long as it could wait until tomorrow. I was going to have to rethink this whole birthday situation; while I definitely didn't wish to celebrate another one, and I still wasn't exactly thrilled about receiving gifts and being shoved into the spotlight, pulling the birthday card certainly had its perks.

I gave Edward a broad grin and a peck on the cheek before I said, "Thank you. Now, I must go get a shower and get ready for my party and you should get dressed and de-feathered before Charlie comes home and finds you here and chases after you with his gun." The idea of that actually happening was preposterous because there was no way that Charlie could surprise a vampire in general, let alone one with a built-in thought detector. And even if, by some miracle, my dad did manage to walk in on Edward before he became decently clothed again, there was no way he would ever be able to catch him. Even if Charlie turned into the crazed, over-protective father I knew he could be. Although, it might be rather entertaining to watch Edward running around my room naked as Charlie pursued him with a shotgun. Scratch that. Charlie didn't have to be there. Edward could just run around my room in all his glory. Yes, yes he—I shook my head to clear it of impure thoughts. Focus Bella my mind commanded. Shower!

I held the sheet against my skin as I leaned over the bed in search of my bath towel—I spotted it sticking out from underneath Edward's wrinkled jeans—and shivered with delight as I felt his cool fingertips trace up and down my spine. My heart started racing again and I hopped out of bed, grabbed the towel and quickly wrapped it around me on my way to the door. I needed to put some space between myself and Edward, and I needed to stop thinking about him naked—as if that were possible—so that I could keep myself from losing my head and attacking him with the intent of repeating our activities from minutes ago. Over and over and over again.

Screw the party. Who cared about the stupid party? I took two steps toward my bed, toward Edward and his divine nakedness before I remembered. Oh, right. Alice cared about the party. As in, nosy Alice who will come looking for us if we don't arrive precisely on time in—I glanced at my clock again—nineteen minutes. "Freaking little pixie party-nazi." I mumbled under my breath as I headed toward the door again, trying not to trip over the pile of our clothing. I heard Edward laugh softly when I spoke, and I turned to face him as I was stepping in the hallway.

I looked toward the bed…but it was empty, and the sound of Edward's laughter no longer reached my ears. My eyes scanned the room frantically as I called out his name. My mind was filled with confusion, worry, wondering not how, but why he would have disappeared. I checked inside my closet and underneath my bed. I ran throughout the rest of the house, filling the silence with my pleas for him to answer me. But he was nowhere to be found, and without any conscious idea as to why I was doing so, I found myself running to the window, and laboriously lifting it open so that I could poke my head out and search the forest for any sign of him. I could see nothing through the pouring rain but trees and darkness, so I drew my drenched head back inside as my entire body trembled from fear and the chill of the cool air against my wet skin.

And then I heard his voice, his snarl, and I whipped my head around toward the sound. As I did so, the space seemed to shift around me as colors and textures darkened and blended. Suddenly, I was no longer in my bedroom, and it was not Edward that I was hearing. The silver-wrapped presents and the tiered cake and the flowers were blurs in my peripheral vision that I barely noticed as I stared into the eyes of death. I saw the thirst, the malice, the indifference in them, and I reached my arms out to ward them off as I whispered, "Jasper, what are you doing?" His eyes flashed to my hand and I followed their path, noticing for the first time that on my fingertip was a tiny sliver of blood. Instinctively, I began to back away. He crouched down and growled at me, and when I saw that he was about to lunge in my direction, I screamed and clenched my eyes shut. I waited for the inevitable, for his razor-like teeth to pierce my quivering flesh, but the seconds passed, and my end never came.

I was on the verge of passing out when I opened my eyes to find that the setting had shifted around me yet again. I was standing with Edward in the forest as the rain poured down around us, but it was as if we were standing beneath an invisible canopy for my vision of his rigid stance, his emotionless eyes was completely unhindered by the falling drops. He started speaking to me, and although I knew that it was Edward's voice, I didn't want to believe that it was truly him that was talking. "Bella, we're leaving. My family and myself. I don't want you to come with me," he said, almost mechanically, without any tinge of the warmth and love and hope that should have been present in the tone of his impossible words. If anything, they were laced with callousness, resentment.

In my mind's effort to find meaning in Edward's nonsensical words, I repeated them aloud, inflecting them in such a way that my choppy sentence became a question. "You…don't…want…me?" Once the words were out and their significance began to seep into my brain, I felt my breathing progress toward hyperventilation.

"No," he replied to the question that I never meant for him to answer. I didn't want his detached, beautiful voice to spin a tale of tragedy, of heartbreak. I searched his face, his eyes for any element of untruth, longing to find even the slightest discrepancy between his body and his voice that could negate his cruelty. But there was nothing there but truth and finality and conclusion. I placed my palms on my temples and shook my head from side to side, trying to make it stop. Wrong I kept thinking. This was all horribly wrong.

"You're not good for me, Bella," robot Edward continued without compassion, without remorse for the way each and every word he spoke caused an irreparable fissure in my chest. He cast one last cold, fleeting glance in my direction, and then he was gone. I doubled over and gasped for air as tears began to distort my vision and racking sobs lodged in my throat. Even as I struggled to breathe, I forced myself upright to run after him. I needed to find him, touch him, hold him, beg him to make this all go away, plead with him to never stop loving me.

I ran through the dripping wet trees, their branches striking my face with a whip-like ferocity, their roots causing my unstable feet to stumble repeatedly until I fell hard upon my knees, lost and scared and falling apart. I looked to the sky and wailed his name endlessly until my voice was hoarse and my tears ran dry and I had nothing left inside of me. I closed my eyes and fell backwards to the ground as the darkness enveloped and suffocated me. I had no energy with which to draw breath, no reason to compel my thoughts, no remnants of a heart remaining to allow feeling. I did nothing. I had nothing. I was nothing but the shadow of a girl on the forest floor, shattered and wheezing and yearning to die.

My eyes snapped open and I realized that I was gasping for air as they adjusted to the darkness and I recognized my all-too-familiar ceiling. I hadn't looked at much else for the past two days because I was too confused and exhausted and broken to coax myself out of bed. The fact that I hadn't left my room was of no consequence; I could leave, I could run away and travel to the ends of the civilization and, still, the reality of my life would remain unchanged. There was nowhere on this earth that could offer me comfort.

So, on the first day, I had chosen to remain here, in my bedroom, where the tragedy of my love story had begun. I had welcomed every sight, every sound, every smell that was a reminder of the love, the future, the life that I had lost in one extraordinary, catastrophic day. Because, however painful and tormenting they may be, they at least offered proof to my fractured mind that the man who had enraptured my heart and soul had really, truly existed. I forced myself to reminisce, to extract every minute detail of our time together from my brain before I fell apart and lost the only piece of him that I had left: his memory.

Remembering him, though, took a toll on my weary body, and after limited hours of consciousness, sleep claimed me. Not surprisingly, I dreamt of that day with perfect clarity, skipping effortlessly from one significant event to the next. I watched as I soared into heaven during our lovemaking, then plummeted deeply into hell, first at the party when a foolish accident had pitted brother against brother and then again as he led me into the forest, toward my execution, mere hours after I had given him everything.

When I awoke, screaming and crying and more exhausted than I had been before I drifted to sleep, I was physically being held in Charlie's arms but in every other domain of reality, I was in purgatory. I was not alive without him and yet he had not been humane enough to grant me death. I had become the personification of irony—I loved him for teaching me how to love and I hated him for revealing that it was all an elaborate ruse. I could not bear to think of him and yet I struggled not to forget that he had been.

After I quieted down and Charlie returned to the sanctuary of his room, I slipped easily into a repeating pattern of dreaming and waking and falling further into despair. The dream never changed, and I regained consciousness enough at one point to wonder if my mind was trying to show me something that I had missed, something that I could have done to change the outcome of my life. It didn't really matter though, because I could not change the past. I could only relive my history through the nightmare and wait for the point in the future—and I had no doubts that it would come—when my mind would shatter into a thousand pieces and join the fragments of my heart and soul on the hardwood floor.