THE ANONYMITY OF BEING

3. The Present

Renee heard a knock on the door. And then another one, crying with muffled desperation. She wondered if this day would prove to be the start of something new. But that was probably too hopeful of a wish on her behalf. Renee sighed before muttering to herself about the boy not having a clue. She was temporized, having to endure a hefty debate with herself about opening the door.

But she decided it was his lucky day, only if he'd stop pushing his luck onto their doorstep. She wondered if boys had evolved to become slightly brainless in the department of understanding signals. Charlie had never been so dense, but he'd always been one of a kind- choosing to utilize his integrity properly.

Renee opened the door, meeting the green eyes of a boy who had been relentless with his visitation rights. She noticed the lambent hope that illuminated his mulish perseverance.

"What are you doing here, Edward?" she asked coldly, repeating herself- yet another time.

"I'm here to see-"

"Yes, I know that." A sharp snap. "You've said that, every single day. I'm expecting something more profound."

"Please, Renee. I just want to help her. I want to understand some things," Edward pleaded. "I know I was childish, having put my feelings before hers. I regret it and I need to apologize."

"I'll pass on your apology," she replied monotonously.

"Look, maybe we can help her togeth-"

"She doesn't want to see you, Edward," Renee chided.

Although his idea wasn't entirely infeasible, she knew she'd always respect her daughter's wishes even though she'd been locked out of the inner circle herself. Renee felt a kick of doubt against her shin, sabotaging her belief that trust would eventually show itself. She always thought that the strength of her love would be sufficient in persuading Bella to communicate. She desperately wished to know what was wrong as she fought against the indefatigable smoke of her daughter's depression.

"Has she been talking to you?" he asked, scraping his shoe against the ground.

Renee took a minute to reply, assessing the authenticity in his persistent visits.

"No," she said.

Raising her eyebrows, she silently asked if Bella was giving him the same treatment. The corners of Edward's lips pulled into a straight line, replying with dissatisfaction. The sickly atmosphere of the household wasn't something Edward had familiarized himself with. Lively chatter and genuine smiles were the precious memories he'd held close to his heart.

"Is there anything else?" Renee asked, placing her hand against the door frame.

Edward took note of her defensive posture, like a lioness protecting her cub. He couldn't detect any blame in her attitude; he wondered what he must have come off as. Did he look despondent at all? Was he wearing his emotions of heartbreak? He had never meant to hurt Bella. He'd thought of it to be the opposite. She'd hurt him.

She had shut him out, not giving him a chance. She'd discarded him even when his feelings for her still burnt with an iron-hot affection. But had it been affection if he'd preferred impatience to kindness? He could feel her somberness transcending the childishness he'd exposed. He couldn't stop the malodorous unease from tackling him to the ground. He wondered if he could ever truly believe all of it...

"Edward?"

He looked into the eyes of Bella's mother, abruptly remembering a time when she'd welcomed him with nothing but unsullied hospitality. Edward remembered the excited smile on Renee's face as her eyes darted between Bella and himself, sparkling with delight. But as he remembered his unwanted presence in this new time and place, he shivered at the coldness in Renee's eyes.

"Th-there's nothing else."

He looked away, staring up at a cloudy sky that hung his unalterable circumstances over him. Just as Renee was about to shut the door, a fleeting thought scampered across his mind.

"If I wrote a letter, would you give it to her?"

"Are we talking hypothetically?"

"Realistically."

"Maybe," Renee replied.

Edward backed away slowly, looking at the gray opaqueness. The heavens growled at him with a fierce look of hunger, keen to devour him and the compulsion he hadn't suppressed for the sake of patience. As he walked away from the house on the end of the street, Renee watched the young boy disappear into a diminutive speckle.

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A/N: I also got a Facebook... I only ever use Twitter. But now, they're both linked on my profile. My presence on those sites can stray, so sorry if I'm slow to reply :(.