~Mourning is not forgetting... It is an undoing. Every minute tie has to be untied and something permanent and valuable recovered and assimilated from the dust.~ Margery Allingham.

EPOV:

"You have got to stop man. You are gonna need to buy yourself a new liver by the end of the night."

I distinguished Tyler's voice among the grunts of the losers who came to this bar to drown their sorrows in whatever alcoholic drink they could get their hands on. The stale air acted like a helping hand to the process of getting hammered. The clanking sounds of glass reminded me that I needed to answer Tyler.

"Leave me alone, Ty. You know you don't have to baby-sit me or anything," I slurred, thanks to the 6 beer bottles I had had before he showed up, or was it 7? Anyways, I shoved his large hands, which had taken residence on my shoulder, away.

"I know I don't have to baby-sit your ass but I am worried about you. I mean, it has been a rough couple of days since…"

"Don't," I snarled at him, shifting in my seat to face him.

I looked at him to find the same look everybody had been giving me for the last 3 months; the pity swirling in his irises.

"I am sorry, man," he said.

"How about I get you home now so you can get some rest," and he pried the beer bottle from my iron grip.

I was about to snap at him but I stopped myself. He might be an annoying jerk, but he was probably the only person who gave a damn about me now.

But it wasn't always like that.

I had Tanya and our baby. I had my sisters-in-law, whom I haven't spoken to since the funeral. The funeral that I hadn't attended because I was busy crying my heart out in our apartment amongst our memories. The place pretty much held all of our memories together, like the time we had a fight because I was late for a dinner with her sisters, Kate and Irina, who came to Chicago to visit us. Or the time when she tried to cook an Indian curry but ended up burning it and cried over it. I remember laughing till my stomach hurt, but when I heard her sniffling, I stopped, took her in my arms, and kissed her long blonde hair. We had ended up going out for pizza that night.

The sound of cars on the street brought me out of my reverie. I looked around to find myself standing outside the bar, with Tyler tugging on my leather jacket to keep me moving towards his truck.

Dragging my sneakers clad feet, I stumbled into the passenger seat, closing the door with a thud. Tyler put the key into the ignition and get us the hell out of there.

My head was swimming in thought, which didn't help if your head was also pounding and you could barely see.

We spent most of the ride in silence, except for the part when Tyler turns on the radio and "Goodbye, my lover" blasted through the sound system. Safe to say Tyler turned off the radio somberly.

See, what I like about Tyler is that he didn't hover. I had enough people doing that for the past three months, advising me that drinking wouldn't make the pain go away. I snorted mentally at the thought. I was not an idiot. I already knew that alcohol wouldn't make Tanya's face leave my mind. It was too much engraved, like a blueprint in my head. What they didn't know is that drinking myself into oblivion numbed the pain. Seeking refuge from my inner turmoil, I had taken to drinking any kind of alcoholic drinks; beer , Vodka, Gin and Tonic, and even the bottle of Red Wine Tanya bought when she was 12 weeks along and craved wine so she bought this bottle for when she was allowed to drink again after our baby boy was born.

Our baby boy.

The same pain that had shred through me was making an appearance once again tonight. The clench in my heart, the clenching of my jaws, the stinging in my eyes; I was used to them now. They were my faithful companions in my lonely days and nights. The choking feeling rose in my throat as I rolled down the window beside me. Fresh, cold air whipped past my face as if it was slapping me to wake me up from a stupor that had gone on for too long.

I glanced momentarily outside the window and saw water drops gracefully descended on the cold glass. It was raining but not heavily, just the way I liked it.

When I was a kid I would stick my nose to the cold glass and exhale to create water vapor and then I would write my name on it. My mom always scolded me, saying that there were germs everywhere and they might end up in my body because of my childish acts. Don't get me wrong. My mom wasn't a cruel person, but she was a wee bit of a lunatic. At least that's what I remember about her since she died along with my dad in a car accident when I was 11. That's how I wound up in foster homes until I turned 18. In retrospect, my green eyes weren't the only thing I got from her. She passed on her OCD tendencies to me as well.

Despite my groggy state, I could see the sideways glances Tyler had been giving me every couple of minutes. My attention was once again turned to the window, and I instantly forgot my trip down the memory lane. That's when I saw it; Humboldt Park.

It had always been Tanya's favorite place in all of Chicago.

"Stop the car," I yelled at Tyler through gritted teeth.

"Do you wanna throw up or something?" Tyler asked anxiously. This truck was his baby.

"No. Just stop the fucking car," I roared at him.

"Alright alright. Just calm down."

The truck skidded to a stop and I slammed the passenger door behind me after jumping out.

"Edward, where the hell are you going now?" I heard him say as he trailed behind me.

Suddenly, I felt his hand on my arm, pulling me in his direction. This time I didn't succumb to his attempts to drag me home to 'get a goodnight's sleep'.

"You are drunk, man. I can't just leave you alone," he said.

"Well, I am alone now. I might as well get used to it," I threw at him.

Ignoring him, I turned on my heel and stumble into the dark park.

I could barely see my own hands in the dark but I kept on walking, smelling the autumn air, which reminded me of Tanya's natural scent. She always smelt like mist on a winter morning.

I let my mind wander to the last time we made love; it was the morning she died and her scent surrounded me as I leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss. My hands wandered over her curves until it came to rest on her large baby bump. Her moans urged me further but the biggest encouragement came when she touched my member. In record time, I found myself pushing into her, gazing at her in the sunlight. Minutes later we reached climax together and stayed in bed for additional ten minutes just cuddling, our hands entwined over the place where our child had been thriving for 8 months.

A loud sob escaped my lips as my hands clamped over my mouth trying to stifle them, the way my child was stifled. I found myself leaning on a tree, rocking back and forth for God knows how long. Suddenly, the memories I had been trying to suppress for 4 days now returned with a vengeance. Vivid pictures of the trial conjured up in my head as the sobs continued to wreck havoc in me. I could still see the smug smile the Volturi's wore the entire time, while their lawyer, Michael Newton, painted my wife as the idiot who dared cross the street in front of Caius Volturi's car. I was surprised that they didn't sue me for the blood splattered on the paint of the car!

Eventually, the son got away with a four year sentence only with the chance of parole after he did half the time because his highness reported the accident to the police 2 hours after it happened (obviously an advice he got from Newton). It didn't matter that he had fled the scene or that he was driving at full speed in a populated area. I mean, he hired the biggest lawyer in Chicago while I hired my old friend, Garret Smart. But I couldn't blame Garret, he did his best. He tried to find witnesses but unfortunately no one came forward to report.

I reached a hand into my pockets to get the golden locket that never left Tanya's neck until the day she died. It was a round locket with leaves engraved on the front part while on the back of it there was a quote saying "You were a delicate rose, Pale red in the summer air, and I was the atmosphere, breathing in its scent". The locket opened to two opposite empty spaces to be filled with pictures of loved ones. Tanya insisted we wait until we have kids before she put pictures inside it. Until then she wore it empty. I recalled giving it to her on our first wedding anniversary. I saw it for the first time in the window of the antique store in front of the garage I used to work at. The moment I touched it, I knew it had to be placed on Tanya's graceful neck. I remembered it was a little pricey back then, but it was worth seeing her smile.

My head now throbbed and I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness, the last thing on my mind was Newton's smug smile.

What seemed like ages later, I heard a sweet voice, asking me if I was okay. I struggled to open my eyes but when I do, I see pools of dark chocolate staring back at me.

BPOV:

"Come on, Gunner. It is 10:30 now," I begged our dog.

Our lovely German shepherd decided he wanted do his business now?

Gunner howled at me nuzzling his nose into my hand. Begrudingly, I left the comfort of the leather couch in our living room and headed to the bedroom to change out of the peach colored dress I had planned on wearing out to dinner with Michael. Of course, we didn't actually make it to dinner, because he called, apologizing profusely due to some deadline for one of his big cases.

Within ten minutes I put on my Nikes and a denim jacket in case the fall breeze decided to bite. Gunner was so excited that he brought me his leash between his teeth. Grabbing my keys, I headed out of the door being led by my dog.

As soon as my feet hit the sidewalk, heading to the park, a sense of frustration filled me as I remembered my lunch with my parents.

I arrived slightly late at the French restaurant my parents always chose. If there was one thing my parents never tolerated, it was tardiness. I easily spotted my mom's immaculate short brown bob, sitting in a small table with my dad in a corner.

"Hey, guys," I greeted them as I give both of them a hug.

"Isabella, can you tell me what time is it?" my dad asked with a frown.

Isabella.

The name designated for scolding me.

God I hated it.

"I know. I am late. I am so sorry but I was grading some spelling tests at home and I didn't look at the…"

"There is no excuse to being late, young lady" my mom cut me off.

I guess it was time to turn on my puppy eyes.

My dad opened his mouth but is interrupted by the waiter asking us if we were ready to order. After jotting down our orders, he moved beside to pour me some White Wine.

I sipped at it slowly, my mind starting to drift to Michael until my mom noticed and called my name.

"Darling, are you okay?" she asked in her sweetest voice as she tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

"I am fine, mum. I am just thinking," I said unconvincingly as I feigned interest in the plies of my white sundress.

"Is everything okay with you and Michael?" my dad participated in the conversation.

"Yes. We are good," I trailed off for a second." Michael is good"

"Are you still having trouble with having a baby."

"We are not having troubles," I grunted loudly, earning a lifted eye brow from my dad.

"Dr. Banner says we are both healthy and it is just a matter of time," I added.

"Then what is on your mind, sweatheart?" dad was luring answers out of me by calling me by my favorite nickname.

"It is just that…Michael has been working a lot lately and I started to feel lonely. I mean two weeks ago, he bailed out on me after we agreed to have lunch with Jessica and her new boyfriend, Laurent," I whine pettily as I recalled how he worked the entire day into the night leaving me to sulk in our bed. When he came home, he found me half asleep in our bedroom. In a matter of minutes, he shed his clothes, crawled under the covers and pressed himself to me. He called my name, asking me if I was asleep. I had finally woken up at that point. He asked if I was upset with him, so I said yes. He kissed the nape of my neck, saying "I am sorry baby boo. I had work to do," When I didn't respond, his hands were already under my black night gown and kissing my exposed shoulder feverishly. That was Michael's solution to everythin.

sex.

"Your husband is a hard working man, Isabella. You should respect that," dad reiterated sternly.

"I do respect that, dad. But what about me? When am I ever gonna come first to him?" I asked petulantly.

"What are you talking about? Of course you mean so much to him. Why would he marry if he didn't care about you?" mom, the ever defendant of Michael's, narrowed her eye at me.

"I know he loves me. But I am talking about the fact that we don't spend time together anymore. Some times I feel invisible to him."

"You are imagining things, darling. But I assure that as once you become pregnant, you will feel more cherished as ever. Men tend to mellow at the sight of their wives barefoot and pregnant." Mom winked at me, then smiled at my dad.

"Your mother is right, Isabella. Just think of your bright future with your successful husband and your baby to be. And concentrate on bringing me a grandchild, okay?" my dad said with a smile.

And I feigned a smile as well.

As the memory disappeared, I found myself already inside the park, with Gunner pulling me eagerly towards a lane of trees that looked deserted. I waited for him to finish his business as I decided to call Michael to ask him when he is coming home. I bring out my cell phone and dialled Michael's number. It went straight to voice mail.

Great.

When I was done with the unanswered phone call, I turned to see if Gunner was done as well to find that he had disappeared.

"Gunner? Sweetie, come to mummy. It's so dark I can't see you."

Ughhhhhhh

I walked towards a trail of trees, calling out his name.

Shit.

I almost slipped on the yellow leaves adorning the ground and sweat started to gather at my brow as panic hit me.

What if I couldn't find him in the darkness?

"Gunner?"

That's when I heard a faint howling. I tried to follow the sound, but it was difficult.

Carefully walking between the trees, my foot kicked something and a moan was heard in the dark.

Clutching my chest, I grabbed my phone and tried to light up the area at my feet.

Then I saw sneakers.

A man's sneakers in particular.

I trailed the light of the phone's screen towards the man's face and I couldn't help but stare for a moment.

He was handsome.

Not in an all American way, like my blue eyed, brown haired husband.

No.

He had sculpted jaw, pale complexion, long brown lashes and the oddest color of hair. It was bronze with hints of red at the tips. Even in the dark, I can see how messed his hair, like he had a hard time taming it.

There was only one thing marring his handsome features.

The expression of pain which contorted on his face.

I began to regain my senses and stopped ogling the man in front of me.

What was he doing here?

With shaky hands, I poked his shoulder.

"Sir, are you okay?"

"Sir"

"Are you okay? Do you need medical assistance?"

He stirred for a moment and the next thing I knew is that I was looking into a sea of Emerald.

It was his eyes.