A/N: I don't own twilight
To Keilo, who, for some fantastic reason, has me next to amazing writers on the Favorite Authors list

Love is like a friendship caught on fire.

Dreading the moment he would have to cross the threshold, Edward stood still, facing the sign on the door that mockingly read: "Jasper Withlock: Publisher".
He could think of so many other words much more fitting…
"Jasper Withlock: traitor", he thought trying to hold in his bitter laughter. "Jasper Withlock: complete fucking asshole".

He had met Jasper during his last year at college. They shared a unique love for cigarettes and literature, so it was only a matter of time before they met and became friends.
Then one particular day, Jasper's aversion to classic poetry astonished Edward so that he wrote a scary story, just for him, just for the kicks, though he didn't usually write stories of that sort. It turned out to be the best thing he had ever written.
As soon as college was over, Jasper became his publisher. He was as sure of Edward's potential as he was of his ability to sell it, all around the world.
True to his words, Edward's first novel sold thousands of copies and so did the second, and the third and the fourth… It was rare for they were so young, yet everybody could see how together they were an unstoppable force.
At the moment, admiration for Jasper welled up in Edward, for all he had achieved was mostly thanks to him. But now, how he wished he could give it all back; all the money and fame and prestige, just to never have met Jasper. For Jasper to never have met Alice.

Alice.

Against his will, Edward remembered her eyes and her smell, and the way she had smiled the first time they met. He remembered how she took his breath away, as well as his heart and his dreams, and how she still had all of them. And then he remembered how he had never gathered the courage to kiss her, to claim her.
She must have known. Everybody knew.

Jasper knew.

He barely had time to take in another gulp of air, when the door opened.
Alice came to the door looking as beautiful as ever and Edward couldn't help but wonder if the pain in his heart would ever fade away.
"Edward!" Alice said, shocked to see him after so long.
"Mrs. Withlock." He returned bitterly, flashing his eyes for the first time towards the newly acquired wedding ring.
"Edward…" she whimpered, tears welling up on her eyes, "I'm so sorry".
He was about to say something else, when another voice calling his name, stopped him.
Jasper was standing still as a statue at the door that gave way to his office, afraid of scaring away the man he had known for more than twenty years: his best friend.
Was it wrong to still call him his friend after all that had happened?
Edward stepped away from the trembling Alice, towards Jasper, extending a manuscript for him to catch.
Possibly the last one, Edward thought.
"Congratulations," said Edward to the newly weds, and without another word, he walked away.
Jasper didn't take his eyes away from the manuscript. He was afraid to find longing on his wife's face and so he opened the first page, to read the exact same words that headed all of Edward's novels:

"To A.

My first word and my last phrase, all of it, is hers."

Leaving Jasper's office, Edward found himself walking beneath the pouring rain. For a second he almost laughed thinking his life looked like the chapter of some cheesy novel. Yet, he couldn't find it in himself the will to do so.
As he came close to his house, he found a shuddering figure standing at his door, completely soaked.

Isabella.

Momentarily entranced, he noticed her erect nipples and the way her school uniform hugged all of her curves, and then quickly looked away.
He saw her pressing something beneath her sopping t-shirt and quickly understood the house call. Looking into her forced smile, he spoke.
"What's with the urgency? You could have come some other day or left it on the mailbox or something" he said, irritated. He was in no shape to see anyone, not now, much less to read some stupid story written by a sixteen-year-old girl.
Isabella stood quiet; she was afraid of saying the wrong words.
"It's ok." She said after a while. "I don't have anywhere else to go, anyway".
Edward paused. He was trying not to read much into her words.
"Isabella..." Edward started forcing an unconfortable laugh, "when you say 'anywhere else to go'…"
"Yeah…" she finished, "like… nowhere else to go".

A/N: I'm back!