You wonderful people have blown me away with the love you've already shown this tale.
I'm really enjoying writing it despite the angst, and I'm glad you're enjoying reading it so far!
I promise, all of your questions will be answered, but if you want spoilers, shoot me a message.
Fair warning though-there are some things even I don't know the answers to just yet, so bear that
in mind.

However, I can now say without a doubt that this WILL be an Edward x Bella HEA.

I'm making this my National Novel Writing Month project for this year. The aim is to write
50k words in the thirty days of November, so you can probably expect frequent updates at least
throughout November. I've got chapter four almost done, so that should be up at the beginning of
next week, if not at the end of this weekend.

Much love and many thanks to all of you xo

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I don't own any of the recognisable characters; those are all Stephanie Meyer's.
No copyright infringement is intended.

~ oOo ~

Summary: Maybe we were fooling ourselves, thinking we'd make it. In some respects, we have. We've created a comfortable life for ourselves and our beautiful children. If nothing else, they'll be our legacy. Proof that although we weren't destined to be together forever, we were always meant to create something worthwhile. Our love story is the same as many others. It was never meant to last.

Dandelions

You To Me Are Everything

May 2018...picking up at the end of chapter one...

By the time we pull up outside Mom and Dad's, I've managed to tidy up my face with the wet wipes I keep in my purse. I only look semi-presentable and there's no way my parents won't know I've been crying, but there's nothing I can do about my reddened eyes, the shakes making my body tremble every time I think about Edward, or how I'm going to explain to our children that we're not going home to their daddy.

Tipping the driver for putting up with my sniffling the entire way, I quickly slide from the backseat and bounce on the balls of my feet as I wait for him to open the trunk. I'm in no hurry to get inside and face the Spanish inquisition, but he's obviously in a rush to get rid of me; honestly, I don't blame him.

"Thank you," I murmur, gathering the cases and stepping onto the gravel path leading to the front door. Just before I knock to announce my arrival, I realize something that didn't occur to me until now.

If my appearance doesn't tell my parents that something's wrong, the suitcases will.

It's too late to think of a cover story though, because I barely have time to open the door before bare little feet are slapping the hardwood floor and three sweet voices are calling "Mama!"

My broken heart gives a hard thump as I let the cases go and sink to my knees to catch my babies. Sadie reaches me first, swiftly followed by her brothers, and for a moment, their arms wrapping around my torso knit me back together. There's no better feeling than this; nothing beats the embrace of my babies. For the longest time, I didn't think being a mother was something I'd ever get to experience. Months of negative pregnancy tests, gruelling examinations, and agonizing waiting culminated in the most heartbreaking doctor's appointment. That doctor, Dr. Price...I'll always remember his kind face and the way he squeezed my hand as I broke down.

I'm terribly sorry, Bella, Edward. It's not good news.

Infertile. That's what he said. Both of us, for one reason or another, are incapable of creating the longed-for child we dreamed of. I remember looking at Edward through a waterfall of tears and wondering how we'd ever get through it, but we did. We did. And eight months later, we attended our first adoption information evening.

Two years to the day after that gut-wrenching appointment with Dr. Price, Edward and I drove, for three hours, with our hearts in our throats and tears in our eyes to the other side of Kent. There, at a busy hospital, we met up with our wonderful social worker Shelley. She showed us to the special care baby unit, talking a mile-a-minute in that way she always did, until neither of us could focus on a single word out of her mouth because there, right in front of us in a nurse's arms, was our sweet baby girl. She was tiny and being monitored heavily because of her eight-weeks-early arrival into the world, but Sadie was perfect.

Down the hall, in a waiting room with their own social worker, were her shy big brothers—two years old at the time, Jace and Dillan refused to speak to us for almost an hour before their curiosity got the better of them. I'll never be able to stifle the emotion that bubbles up in my stomach when I remember the shock on Edward's face as Jace and Dillan hugged him for the first time. People in the adoption circles talk about that moment—the moment you just know that this is your child. That day, as Jace and Dillan threw their arms around Edward, he peered at me over his shoulder and our tear-filled eyes conveyed our sheer joy at finding our children.

Biological parents talk about the moment their baby held their finger for the first time or looked into their eyes...we didn't have those things, not in the same way, but I know neither me or Edward would change our babies or the way we became parents. It was a long, tough road, but my God, was it worth it.

Bringing them home the following week, and Sadie two weeks after that, I'd never felt such overwhelming love and completeness. Our family was finally, finally, full thanks to the blessing of adoption. My babies, our babies...they're my world. It kills me that breaking their hearts is inevitable; they're never going to just accept that Mama and Daddy aren't together anymore. They giggle when Edward tells me he loves me in his silly monster voice and cover their eyes when we kiss. They know we love each other…

Three years of seeing and believing that can't be undone in one day.

With their little hands grabbing at me and their warmth filling me to the brim, they ask a million questions. One hits me like a punch to the gut—where's Daddy?

I pull back, kissing each of their faces in turn to stall, but I'm saved from having to answer—for now, at least—by Mom's voice.

"What did I say about attacking your mama the moment she walked through the door?" She sighs, a fond smile on her face as she tucks her tea towel into the band of her floral apron and leans in the doorway.

"Uh, to do it?" Jace asks cheekily.

"No, silly pants," Sadie giggles, wriggling her arms around my torso so that when I stand, she's still clinging to me. Twisting a lock of my hair around her pinky, she rests her head against my shoulder and blows a raspberry at her brother. "Nana say no 'tacking Mama."

Dillan reaches up to tug his little sister's slipper-clad foot. "Well how come you jumped on her first, Sadie bear?"

She thinks about it for a second. "I'm a pwincess, duh."

Shaking my head, I smile and boop her button nose. Forever my little sassy-pants, this girl is going to be the wild child of the trio, that's for sure. "All right, Princess Sadie, how about we find your jacket and shoes, huh? Do you think you can manage that without servants?"

Sadie finds this hilarious, her tinkling laughter warming me to the core. "Silly Mama. Dilly an' Jay are my serfants."

I press a hard kiss to my daughter's blonde curls, very aware that Mom is staring at me with increasingly furrowed brows, before setting her down on her own two feet.

"Go on, baby. You too, boys. Shoes, jackets, and loveys, please."

As soon as Jace, Sadie, and Dillan take off up the stairs, Mom asks the other question I've been dreading. "What's wrong, what's happened?"

A lump lodges itself firmly in my throat, my heart beating so hard I start to feel faint. Luckily, the stairs are only a few feet away; I sink onto the bottom step, sucking in deep breaths. I can hear my babies chattering away to each other upstairs. They're content and carefree. Happy.

For now.

Tears prickle my eyes. At the same time, Mom gasps, so I know she's seen the suitcases and has a good idea of why I'm barely holding myself together.

"Oh, sweetheart…"

The agony of having her comfort me makes the balloon of guilt in my chest expand to the point that I'm not sure it's a good idea for me to take the babies anywhere. It kills me to admit it, but it might be better for them to stay with my parents just for the night, just so I can get myself sorted and in a more stable state of mind.

"It's a mess, Mom," I sniffle, chewing my lip to stop the silent sobs shaking my chest from turning into loud ones. "Everything's such a mess and I don't know...I don't know what to do."

"Come here. Oh, sweetheart."

It's obvious that she doesn't know what to say, either. I don't know whether that's better than her peppering me with questions or not. I don't really know what to say, but it feels like the words it's over are going to explode out of me. When we were kids, people told us not to count on being together forever. People warned us that seventeen-year-olds grow into vastly different adults; that our wants and needs would shift and there was no guarantee we'd still fit together like we did then. We told them they were fools and brushed off their concerns, because of course we'd still fit together. We were so foolish naive thinking that nothing bad would ever happen to us; that nothing would change the shape of our relationship.

I can't help but picture our younger selves at prom. I was so sure that he'd drop me home and forget all about me; the Chief's misfit daughter he made out with after prom and never thought of again. When he showed up on my porch the following morning, bright-eyed and asking if he could take me to breakfast, I couldn't believe my bleary eyes. Hungover and stunned stupid, I didn't agree until my mom giddily informed Edward that he could wait in the kitchen for me. She's since admitted that she was just glad to see me finally acting like a 'normal teenager' and interacting with boys.

Over the course of that summer, Edward took every opportunity to prove my assumptions about him wrong.

Far from the stereotypical, popular rich kid I thought him to be, he was sweet and funny and made me laugh more than anyone I'd ever met. We spent overcoast summer's days riding Emmett's fixer-upper motorcycles on La Push beach, and when I had tonsillitis in August, just weeks before Edward had to leave for Florida State University, he put off his departure to nurse my whiny ass. Not even Mom's fussing made me feel better.

But Edward's goofy grin and chopsticks up his nose as he tried to coax me to eat some chicken noodle soup...that did it. He was my rock, even though I was already preparing myself for him to abandon me when he headed off to college. I was so in love with him it was ridiculous. My head was full of dreams of what our life together would be like if he didn't find some blonde, tan cheerleader down in Florida.

I never needed to worry, as it turns out. He was always faithful and called me as often as his tough schedule allowed. Mom was the voice of reason back then, reminding me of how devoted Edward was and how we had a loving relationship built on friendship and trust.

And now...now I'm here, facing the hardest trial of my life, my mom once again soothing my frayed nerves only this time I'm not sure Edward and I can rely on phone calls and as-often-as-possible visits to save our relationship.

For now though, her arm around my shoulders and the gentle strokes of her hand through my hair is enough to keep the breakdown at bay.

~ i ~

When the time comes to leave, Mom points out that she has a spare bedroom and won't charge me a fortune for a last-minute booking, like a hotel will, so I hesitantly agree to stay there with the children. The idea isn't a bad one, per se, it's just that I've never stayed over with them before, and I know they're going to wonder why they're not only having another sleepover with Nana and Grampa, but that I'm also going to be staying—without their daddy. In the end, it's thoughts of how the children will react to a hotel that makes my decision for me.

Jace and Dillan frown at me when I tell them the new plan, while Sadie squeals and leaps into her nana's arms.

"Why are we staying here again? Why are you staying, too? Is Daddy coming? Are we going home tomorrow?"

Crouching, I cup Jace's face between my palms and remind him to take a deep breath. He follows my instructions, offering me a bashful little smile to go with his furrowed brows. Surprises and sudden alterations of the schedule are tough for my little guy.

He was almost four years old when we received his official autism diagnosis, although the social workers taking care of him before he came home with us had suspected it right from the start. As well as his ASD, Jace also struggles with SPD—sensory processing disorder. Things like labels inside his clothes and having his hair cut are a big deal to Jace. They're overwhelming and overstimulating, so we have to be super careful with the clothes we buy and the places we take him, just because it's not always easy to calm him down if something sets him off.

Like now, for instance, he's wringing his hands and avoiding eye contact with me. I know that if I don't reassure him, he may go into full-blown meltdown, which is something we avoid at all costs.

"Jace, baby, listen to me. Everything is okay, we're just going to stay with Nana and Grampa for another two nights, okay?"

"T-two nights?"

Chewing my lip, I see Mom mouthing something to me over his shoulder.

For however long you need.

"We might be here longer, but as soon as I know, I'll tell you."

Preparation is key for my boy, but I have no idea how that's going to work in this situation. I don't know what's going to happen or how to handle any of this, but I'm determined to do my best. It's not Jace's fault—or Dillan's or Sadie's—that this is happening.

Discomfort is clear as day on his little face and I wish I could make him feel better. It kills me to see him struggle, and in my heart of hearts, I know this is going to get worse before it gets better.

There's nothing normal about this mess—nothing normal about his parents splitting up, if that's what this is.

"Do we get to have pizza and ice cream again if we're staying at Nana and Grampa's for more nights?" Dillan asks hopefully, twisting side-to-side on the bar stool at the breakfast bar.

Mom smiles, reaching out to squeeze his cheek. "You sure do, little love." Facing me and Jace, Mom cocks her head and opens her arms to him. "How does pizza and ice cream sound, Jay?"

Still worried, but less so now that he has some idea of what to expect, Jace smiles shakily and edges into my arms instead. I welcome his cuddle and mouth my thanks to Mom, who isn't offended by Jace's snub. He's a mama's boy when he's upset, and she knows that.

Blowing out a big breath, I mentally cross my fingers and ask Sadie if she's okay with staying at Nana and Grampa's again. Her cheerful 'yep' is as simple as it is sweet to this emotionally wrought mama's ears. She beams toothily from her spot in the nook, coloring in her new colouring book, and wonders if she can have a snack before dinner.

Shaking her head fondly, Mom pulls the snack basket from under the counter and tells the children they can each pick one treat to eat while they watch a movie in the playroom. Satisfied with their choices, Jace, Dillan, and Sadie tear down the hall to watch Finding Dory for what's probably the millionth time. As soon as they're gone, Mom turns to me.

"Bella, honey, I know you don't want me to pry—and trust me, I don't want to butt in—but…" she trails off, a sad frown on her face, and I can see all her worry and questions gazing back at me from within the depths of her blue eyes.

"Mom, I…" The words get lodged in my throat. I cough, chewing my lip as I turn my gaze away and watch the apple tree outside the window sway in the breeze. We've spent so many summers here, picking apples from those boughs and having water fights on the lawn. It's a happy, family home despite the fact that both Alex and I were adults by the time Mom and Dad moved here.

I can't help but compare it to my home just fifteen minutes away, which, in recent months, has become more like a bed and breakfast where Edward and I cross paths occasionally.

We've been on the wrong track for a long time, Edward and I. It's just taken a while for me to realize it.

A while and a stupid mistake fuelled by rosé and loneliness.

Mom's fingers twining with mine pull me from my head. I peer into her gently encouraging face and try to imagine what she'll say when I tell her everything. The whole truth, no holds barred. I picture myself being completely honest and laying everything out on the table.

But I can't do it. I can't look into my mom's eyes and see the crushing disappointment I know I deserve.

So I lie.

I smile through the pain and tell her that Edward and I are just taking some time apart.

I force myself to reassure her that everything is fine and we'll work through this, whatever this is.

I plaster a smile on my face and manage to laugh when Dad comes home from golfing with his pals, the children falling about laughing at his multi-colored polo and trousers.

And I pretend my heart isn't shattering into a thousand pieces when, at bedtime, my babies sob because they miss their daddy, but his cell goes straight to answerphone and our house phone rings off every time I call.

~ oOo ~

The spare room is shrouded in darkness when I hear the soft click of the door opening. Thanks to the dim light sneaking through the gap between the door frame and the open door, I can see exactly who it is; the lamp in the hall makes my boy's blond hair glow.

"Are you okay, Jay?"

He takes that as his invitation to run across the room and climb into my bed. It's a twin, so there isn't a whole lot of room. Thankfully, neither of us are very big, and we don't mind snuggling. With my baby tucked against my chest, his hand winding its way up until I feel his fingertips playing with the ends of my hair, I can finally release a long sigh without feeling as though I'm falling apart at the seams.

"I want to go home, Mama," he murmurs.

Choked up, I stroke his hair and stare at the ceiling. This used to be the room reserved for grandchildren until Alex and Vanessa had their second son—their boys, Alexander and Aaron, are five- and two-years old now—and we adopted Jace, Dillan, and Sadie. There are still a few, stubborn glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling; proof that Dad doesn't always practice what he preaches and sometimes, even grown-ups give up when the going gets tough.

Oh, the irony.

The grandchildren share the bigger of the two spare bedrooms now. Just down the hall, my parents have created a child-friendly haven complete with built-in bunk beds and enough toys to keep their five grandchildren entertained when they stay over.

But it's not home.

I want to tell Jace that I want to go home, too. I want to snatch him up, scoop his brother and sister from their beds, and take them home to their daddy. I want to pretend that our marriage is as perfect as we always hoped it would be.

But then, in the next breath, I want to curl up and cry until my lungs burn and my eyes can't shed another tear. I want to release the misery slowly expanding in my chest to the point that every breath hurts. And I want, more than anything, to have my family whole and happy again. I feel splintered. My heart has fractured into jagged pieces and every beat is an agonizing reminder that my life is falling apart. The perfect life I dreamed of isn't so perfect after all.

The guilt and pain intensifies when I remind myself that this is my fault. I left. I made that choice. It wasn't a decision I took lightly, but there was nothing else left; no other options that would have ended well. I've been fighting so hard to keep our marriage afloat, but there are only so many waves I can conquer.

I could only keep us from submerging for so long, and my strength has finally run out.

"Why didn't Daddy answer his phone, Mama?" Jace asks softly.

Blowing out a long breath, I try to stop myself from internally cursing Edward. I know he's hurting; I am, too. This isn't easy for any of us, but I don't have the option to hide. When the children tiredly cried for their daddy's goodnight phone call, I almost broke down and drove them home to see him. Overtired and overwhelmed by their surprise, extra couple of nights at Nana and Grampa's, Jace, Dillan, and Sadie were teary-eyed, red-faced babies when Mom, Dad, and I put them to bed earlier this evening.

As a parent, it was without a doubt one of the worst evenings of my life.

Emotionally and physically spent, I eventually stumbled into the spare bedroom after rocking Sadie to sleep in the glider in the children's room. She went down easily enough, barely stirring as I gently tugged off her slippers and tucked her into the lower bunk bed below Dillan. Glancing over Jace at the bedside clock, I realize it's already been several hours since then and I've spent them lying in silence, staring at the ceiling.

"Daddy is busy working, sweetheart..."

Jace sighs; he's heard that excuse a million times before. The words taste bitter. You'd think I'd be used to their flavor by now, seeing as it's an oft-repeated sentence as of late. I'm used to saying it, but I'll never get used to the disappointment on the faces of my babies when they have to hear it.

"We'll try him again tomorrow, okay? You know Daddy loves you."

With a soft hum, Jace wriggles around to get comfortable. "Will you sing me the song? The one Daddy plays on the guitar?"

The sudden sting of tears in my eyes puts a lump in my throat. "Of course, sweetheart."

Clearing my throat, I push the image of Edward playing for the children from my mind and concentrate on the gentle rise and fall of Jace's chest against mine as I sing quietly, stroking my fingers through his hair to keep myself centered.

"I would take the stars out of the sky for you.
Stop the rain from falling if you asked me to.
I'd do anything for you, your wish is my command.
I could move a mountain when your hand is in my hand."

We danced to this song at our wedding. It wasn't our first dance song—I can't even think of that right now if I want to keep any of my composure—but it was later that night, after many of our guests had said their goodbyes and headed home. We were the only couple left on the dance floor, a few friends and family members loitering and supervising the clean-up crew. The band was all packed up, but music played through the speakers beside the stage. When we both heard the first gentle strains of The Real Thing's song, we smiled at each other. Edward pulled me over onto the dance floor, leading me around and singing the lyrics into my ear as I giggled into his chest, delirious with love and light and happiness.

Remembering those moments, those wonderful minutes of carefree, newlywed bliss, socks me in the gut like a sledgehammer.

"Oh you to me are everything, the sweetest song
that I could sing.
Oh baby, oh baby.
To you I guess I'm just a clown,
Who picks you up each time you're down.
Oh baby, oh baby."

When we first brought Sadie home, she was colicky. Every night for three months, Edward and I took turns walking through the bottom of the house with her. One night, a couple of weeks after we brought her home, I couldn't sleep so I decided to join Edward and Sadie downstairs. It was still dark outside, still early in the morning, so I was surprised to find him in an armchair in the living room, Sadie content in her bouncer by his feet and his beloved old acoustic in his hands. Even now, three years later, I can perfectly picture his sweet smile and the wink he shot me as he seamlessly continued singing.

"You give me just a taste of love to
Build my hopes upon.
You know you got the power boy,
To keep me holding on.
So now you got the best of me,
Come on and take the rest of me.
Oh baby."

Crooning it to our boy now, feeling the way he's drifting off to sleep to the sound of one of Edward's favorite songs, makes me both happy and sad.

Happy, because I'm glad Jace can take comfort from something so simple and joyful; sad, because it's his beloved daddy's refusal to pick up the phone this evening that has him feeling even more on edge than he was before.

Annoyance bites at me as I attempt to follow Jace into unconsciousness, his slow breaths soothing in the otherwise silent room. I understand Edward not wanting to speak to me—but to ignore his children? There's no excuse. I can't help but be mad at him. Just because our mistakes have led us here, to this point, doesn't mean our children should have to suffer any unnecessary hurt.

It takes another hour, but as I finally manage to slip into a restless slumber, I make a silent promise to Edward that he can have the weekend before I go to the house and demand answers for his behavior. Hopefully, it won't come to that. Hopefully, when the children ask to speak to him tomorrow morning, he'll pick up.

I can't afford to be dragged under by the tsunami of grief hovering just off-shore, so right now, hope is all I have left.

At one time, Edward...he really was my everything, and I was his. We just lost each other somewhere along the way.

*peeks through eyes* ...are you still with me?

The song Bella sings at the end is The Real Thing's You To Me Are Everything—a personal favourite of mine.