Summary: Edward Masen is a single father, ex-con, and an ex drug user. He and his child move to Forks for a fresh start. Bella Swan is a straight edge young woman. When these two people meet, the attraction is inexplicable. AH/M.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. Stephenie Meyer and Summit own the right. I just play around with the characters.

A/N: Alight readers, this is Miss Bella's chapter. You will need to read her story first (and yes, it is rather sad) but hey, Edward is in the chapter too. :)

Thank you to my beta acrosstheskyinstars for cleaning this up and I'm sorry for making you sad, but I did promise that there will be happier chapters! And thank you to ShowtunesJesus and The Dragon Fly Lover from PTB.

Soulmate

BPOV

"We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey."

-Kenji Miyazawa

Every Thursday, I went to the cemetery to place flowers on my father's grave.

My father and I were close, possibly closer than most fathers and daughters were, and to be honest, I was okay with being different; I was okay with my relationship with Charlie, my father.

I came from a humble upbringing. I was born to Charlie and Renee Swan. Like most young parents, mine got married after the fact I was born. For a while, my childhood was good. I had two wonderful parents, but when you're five, you always think your parents are wonderful.

When I was six, my parents divorced, and my mother took me away. We moved to Phoenix, Arizona, and I was devastated. I missed my father.

Over the years, I only saw him during major holidays or in the summer time. We always met halfway in the state of California. For a few weeks, I'd have my father again. We'd drive around and go to all sorts of places in Southern and Northern California.

Even though he was my father first and foremost, he was my best bud in many ways. I think it was because we were so alike. He and I shared contemplative silences, a love for home cooked-meals, and a love for enjoying the simple things in life.

As I grew older, I began to think that maybe I could leave my mother. It wasn't that I wanted to leave her; I just really missed my father. I was naturally closer to him, and I did love my mother, but she had her own life. She got married again to a man named Phil, and I was happy for her.

Charlie never went out. He never dated, so I felt like moving back with him to be closer to him, to keep him company.

Renee was somewhat surprised, but she agreed that moving back with Charlie was the best for all of us.

I asked her why she took me with her. Let's say curiosity piqued my interest. After all these years, Renee and I weren't close, we were far from Lorelai and Rory Gilmore, so I wondered why she kept me when I could've been with Charlie.

"The mom always gets the kids," she said, shrugging nonchalantly as if my question wasn't a big deal. It was perhaps long over-due, I should've asked her long ago, but it really didn't occur to me that I could've lived with Charlie. I mean, she was my mother, it was natural for me to go with her, and it wasn't like I had much of a choice. Still, it irked me that I could've been back in Forks with my father instead of Phoenix with my mother.

During my junior year of high school, I moved back to Forks to live with Charlie.

My high school career was typical. I was a good student. I didn't go out to party, I didn't drink, I didn't smoke, and I didn't try drugs. I was the police chief's kid, for crying out loud, I knew better.

When I graduated from high school, I was torn between going off to Seattle for college or going to the community college to stay closer to Charlie.

In the end, I decided to stay close to home. I went to the Port Angeles community college. It was closer to Forks, and I still live at home with Charlie.

In hindsight, it was the best decision for me.

After one semester, my life changed drastically.

One morning, I went downstairs to start breakfast for Charlie and myself. We always had breakfast together since he worked during the day and often worked the night shift too. He was a bit of a workaholic, but we saw each other a lot.

I made us eggs and toast and after breakfast, I went upstairs to change for school. When I ran down the stairs, I called out to Charlie. He always said goodbye to me. When he didn't answer, I walked into the living room. He wasn't there, so I went to the kitchen and the sight before me made my heart stop.

Charlie was lying on the floor, immobile and pale. I rushed to him and hovered over him, screaming for him to answer me.

He wasn't waking up, so I did the only thing I could think of. I called the ambulance, and within three minutes, they were there poking and prodding him with needles and equipment.

I felt awful. I didn't know CPR. I didn't know what to do. The paramedics said I did the right thing, and all through the ride to the hospital I felt like I was in a dream, or maybe a nightmare. This was not normal. Charlie just does not collapse on me and not wake up! He hadn't been sick, so what in the world was happening?

When we arrived at the hospital, Charlie was rushed into the emergency room while I was told to wait.

The wait was awful, possibly more awful than actually seeing Charlie on the floor. I paced the room and tried to sit down, but I couldn't stay still. I went outside to get some fresh air but then I went back inside, just in case the doctors came out to talk to me and I wasn't there. That was the end of getting fresh air. I stayed in the waiting room for two hours, and then finally the doctor came out.

The words "three-fourths brain dead" scared me so much. What did that mean? Did that mean Charlie was dead? Did that mean he wasn't going to recover?

When I asked the doctor to explain, he stated that Charlie was in a coma of sorts. Charlie had a heart attack and subsequent stroke. He was on life support, but he was most likely not going to wake up or get better.

I had the option of keeping him on life support and even moving him to a rehab facility, but I knew he wouldn't want that. Charlie would have wanted to live, to really live and use his limbs and go fishing and go to work.

Taking him off life support was the hardest decision I ever had to make. A part of me didn't want to do it. I wanted to keep him there with me, but another part of me knew he wouldn't want me to keep him alive out of obligation or some irrational reason.

When I told the doctor to take him off, I vowed to stay in the room and to be there until his life monitor stopped.

I stayed by his side, crying and apologizing for doing this to him. I told him I didn't want to take him off, but that I knew it was the right choice. Amidst tears and sobbing, he slowly wasted away from me.

It took Charlie ten minutes to die. Slowly, the numbers on his heart monitor began to decrease, and I could still hear the beeping sounds of his life fading away. His death still plagued me, and I went back and forth between feeling guilty and feeling sad.

After his death, I got depressed. My good friends from high school heard about his death, and they dropped everything to help me.

Alice Brandon, Jasper Whitlock, Rosalie Hale, and Emmett McCarty were my best friends in high school. Rosalie and Emmett were seniors when I was a junior. They went off to Seattle for college two years ago, and after Alice, Jasper, and I graduated, Alice and Jasper followed them.

Like I said I stayed behind, and for the most part, the five of us still kept in touch. When they found me at the hospital, they helped me with the papers and the arrangements with the morgue.

The funeral preparations were taken care of by Rosalie and Emmett who were, unbeknownst to me, engaged.

The funeral was a blur to me. I only remember bits and pieces, and that was possibly due to all the crying and sobbing I did. I do remember that Alice and Rosalie stood by me and wrapped their arms protectively around me. They supported me when I couldn't stand anymore, and when Charlie's coffin was being lowered into the ground, they helped me sit down so I could watch.

I know…why in the world would I watch?

I needed to. It was the last time I'd ever see Charlie again and I couldn't pass up the opportunity, no matter how hard it was for me.

Charlie's funeral service was something I didn't want to re-live. Losing him was the worst feeling in the world.

Throughout my entire childhood, I wanted to be with my father. I didn't curse my mother for taking me, but I was angry with her. She made me miss out on so much with him, and all the summers and the past choice of staying with him.

A lot of the townsfolk came up to me and offered their condolences. I don't think I remember everyone or what they said; all I remember was that a bunch of people lined up and shook my hand or hugged me.

I had just lost the only person who truly cared for me, and now with all those condolences, it was like reality was setting in.

Charlie was gone.

After the funeral, I went home with my friends. They stayed with me for almost a week. In that week, they helped me sort out the bills and the will.

Charlie left everything to me. Thankfully, he was an honest citizen and paid his bills on time. The house was his, and he didn't have loans, so I owned it now. The medical, dental, car, and life insurance was okay. Emmett and Jasper helped me with that.

I was able to keep Charlie's police cruiser and all of his belongings. I was never going to use his stuff, but I wasn't going to throw it out either.

Even though I had my friends to look after me, I put on a charade. I ate when they ate, I laughed when they laughed, I did everything to make it seem like I was okay. It was a ruse. I only wanted them to believe I was okay so that they'd feel better about going back to Seattle for school.

I promised them I'd be okay and that after one more year; I'd go and transfer to the university to be with them.

"Pinkie swear it, Bella," Alice said.

"Pinkie swear," I promised.

That was one promise I didn't keep.

After they left, I didn't do anything.

I had no reason or drive to do anything, so I didn't. I didn't go back to school and ended up dropping out. I didn't leave the house except to go to the cemetery or the grocery store so I wouldn't starve, and when I went out, I avoided people to the extreme. I wore dark clothing and kept my hair falling in my face so no one would recognize me.

Pretty soon, people started thinking I was dead. In a way, I was. I certainly wasn't living.

A few times, people would leave food or baskets, and I'd take them in and was grateful for their kindness. After a while, I got tired of letting everyone think I was dead. Charlie wouldn't want me to live like that, so I tried to go out more.

I still went to the cemetery, but I also started going to the diner a couple times during the week. I still kept to myself, but at least I was taking baby steps toward having the type of life Charlie wanted for me.

For two years, I stayed in that depressed state. I barely did anything because I didn't want to. There was no reason to do anything. I had no one.

But it's funny how the dead communicate with the living. I don't believe in ghosts, but I believe everyone has a spirit and a soul. I know the spirit and the soul are different, yet I couldn't tell you the difference. I only go by what scholars and theologians have said.

That said…I believed wherever Charlie was, he was happy. I hoped so. I needed to believe that.

One day, I was visiting him. I was sitting down next to his grave, with my knees pulled up and my head between them, eyes closed. The day was sunny. It was July, and I was soaking up the sun, or trying to. I was silent, everything around me was silent, but there was this gentle breeze. It was funny. The day wasn't windy, and the breeze was so gentle that I could've sword someone was blowing air on me.

I lifted my head and looked around. I was alone. I frowned to myself and went back to mourning my father. As soon as the tears started, I felt a voice in the back of my head.

"This isn't what I want for you, Bella. Get up, get your life together. Do it for me, baby."

It was like Charlie was speaking to me. I could hear his voice in my head, and no, it wasn't like a séance. I wasn't trying to communicate with the dead, but it was more like a gentle reminder that I was still alive, and that my life had taken a wrong turn or two. This wasn't the life I talked about with Charlie. This wasn't what he wanted for me. It wasn't even the life I promised my friends that I'd lead.

Throughout my grief, I lost myself. I let my sadness and mourning consume me. I gave in and now I didn't know how to climb back out of the mess I had made. It was a mess. My life was an unfulfilled mess, and I had to fix it, for Charlie and for myself.

I was tired of not doing anything. I was tired of being sad all the time. I was tired of being the me I had turned into.

That day, I made a promise to Charlie. I promised I would go back to school and start my life over.

I was twenty-one when I began my life. I went back to the community college; got my General Education out of the way, and then I chose a certificate program in Baking and Pastry.

It was hard. Going back to school after being away for so long was really hard to adjust to, but I made myself go. I made myself adjust, and within a year and a half, I had an AA in Baking and Pastry. I was going to apply to a culinary arts school, but fate or something like that had other plans.

My old friends graduated from Seattle. Emmett and Rosalie were married and resided in Port Angeles. Alice and Jasper were also married and were moving back to Forks to jump start Alice's 'vision.'

Throughout my depression, I didn't stay in touch with my friends. That's not to say they didn't try to help me, but I was beyond help. I wasn't willing to help myself, and that made it difficult for my friends to reach out. However, when Alice and Jasper moved back, they visited me.

Their visit was welcomed. I invited them in, and we had a great time catching up. I laughed, I cried, and I even yelled.

Alice didn't guilt trip me; she was concerned for me, and she cried over the fact that I had so much trouble coping without Charlie.

"I'm an awful friend!" she wailed. "I should've transferred here and moved in with you. I should've taken care of you."

"Alice," I said gently, "I didn't want anyone's help. If you had tried to move here and switch schools, I would have been very angry with you."

"But you were all alone!"

"I preferred it that way. I needed that time to get myself together. Honestly, I really needed to go through that so I could learn how to cope and live by myself."

"You shouldn't have to live by yourself," she stated firmly. "You need someone to take care of you."

I smiled at her and looked at Jasper. "We can't all have Jasper Whitlock."

"You can borrow him," she offered.

"Thanks," I chuckled. "Now tell me about your vision. Jasper said it involved me."

Alice had this 'vision.' It involved a dream of her owning a flower shop, and it also involved me owning a bakery.

"That's nice, Alice, but I don't know anything about business," I said.

"But you can bake! You can cook! And you just got your certificate. It's perfect, Bella!"

"What about you?" I asked skeptically. "You don't know anything about flowers."

"What's to know?" she shrugged. "I like what I see. I can throw together a fabulous bouquet. I majored in Business. Trust me; this is going to work out!"

And in typical Alice fashion, it did work out. I still had trouble believing how fast it worked out. In less than two years, we had our flower shop and bakery up and running in the little town of Forks. Alice said it was the perfect place for our business because we were quaint, small town people.

She believed that our business would do well, and in her words, "It was perfect."

Alice really did have a knack for detail, and her flower arrangements were beautiful, to say the least. The bakery was mine, and although I had some help from Jasper, I was the one who created the muffins and cupcakes and desserts.

For the first time, I felt as if I had something good in my life. I had reason and purpose to wake up and do something. It was a foreign feeling, but I liked it.

It's funny how four years of your life can change you drastically. I was still the same person, but in a lot of ways, I was different. Charlie's death helped me grow up and become that different person I was today.

I was still sad, but I wasn't depressed anymore. I was coping remarkably well now, and I smiled more. I laughed more, and I went out of the house and actually resembled a human being instead of the anti-social creature I was a couple years ago.

I was happy, well, not really, but I was getting there.

"Hey, Dad," I said. I always greeted him first. I felt better if I spoke to him like I was having an actual conversation with him.

I placed the big, bright, carnations, roses, and daises Alice made for him. There was an assortment of beautiful flowers, and it put a smile on my face, so I hoped Charlie would like it too.

"Work is good," I said. "I came up with some pumpkin muffins. I think they'll get popular as the seasons change. Alice and Jasper are married now, can you believe it? I'm surprised they didn't marry right after high school like Emmett and Rosalie did."

I closed my eyes and tried to smile. "I miss you. I hope you're happy and doing okay. I'm trying to be happy, too."

I said goodbye again and went to my truck.

Every time I left the cemetery, I immediately thought about work or something Alice said just so I wouldn't end up bawling my eyes out.

Lately, there was talk about a new resident. Eric, the local realtor, said a guy from Chicago was moving to the old, renovated mansion, which was located on the outskirts of Forks near the woods. Everyone was buzzing with excitement. The new guy was the talk of the town. No one knew anything except that he was from Chicago.

Alice said she was going over to the mansion to welcome him to the neighborhood. That was a typical Alice thing. She was nosy and friendly. I had no doubt in my mind that she would meet him and put forth a good first impression.

When I got back to work, Alice saw me and grabbed my arm.

Her flower shop was adjacent to the bakery. It was her idea. She wanted our places to be one big work building. There was a set of double doors, and when you walked in, the bakery was on the left, and the flower shop was on the right.

Alice led me to the back room and looked at me with a smug expression.

"He has a daughter!"

"Who has a daughter?"

"Edward Masen!"

"Who is Edward Masen?"

"The new resident! He is gorgeous, Bella! He's so tall, and he's so young, and he has a little girl!" Alice was jumping up and down with glee. I didn't think she could be this happy over the new guy.

"So?"

"So," she huffed, "he is perfect for you. And best of all, he is exactly who I pictured you with!"

"You pictured me with someone?"

"Yes! It was a dream, and in my dream, I saw a very distinct person. Imagine my surprise when I meet Edward, and he is the guy who I saw you with! It's perfect, Bella. It's just like in my dream, and you know how my dreams end up being perfect in reality."

"Alice, stop! I appreciate your dreams, but this is crazy!"

She glared at me. "You think that now. But wait until you see him. He's coming here, and he's bringing his daughter. Be nice!"

She led me outside and pointed at the entrance. As if by magic, the door opened, and a man walked inside.

He was tall and had a little girl in his arms. I kept looking at him and saw that he wore jeans, a black t-shirt, and a leather jacket. By himself, he looked like a hot guy, but with the little girl in his arms, he looked like a dad.

The little girl wore a pink, flowered dress, pink rain boots, and a pink windbreaker. She was cute, quiet, and so little.

"Hi, Edward!" Alice chirped.

This Edward guy was devastatingly handsome. He had sea-green eyes, a light complexion, and unruly auburn hair with flecks of bronze. He looked supernaturally beautiful, and the little girl in his arms was even cuter than I thought. She had short, blonde hair, green eyes, and a cute nose.

"Hi, Alice," Edward replied.

As soon as he spoke, I knew I was in trouble.

Damn you, Alice Whitlock for being right!

A/N: Sorry for killing off Charlie too! You all must hate me.

The pain that Bella went through is real. I've lived through it. No, my father didn't die, but my grandfather did, and I was really close to him. The depression she spoke about is also real. At the time, I didn't know what I was going through, or what it was...but now that some time has passed, and my life has finally gotten back on track, I recognize it for what it was-depression. I'm only sharing this because I feel that you readers need to know that this isn't angst-y for the sake of making you cry or whatever, I just write what I know. :)

Bella isn't happy, and she won't be for awhile. She's healing, she's not depressed anymore, but she's not happy. Look on the bright side, at least she's not a walking zombie anymore. Progress!

Edward, Vanessa and Bella meet in the next chapter, and that will be EPOV.

Till next time

Tina