Chapter Four – Acceptance

I had an answer to my question, it seemed, but my mind was still struggling to understand.

I had put that look in my angel's eyes. I had been the thing that hurt her so bad she looked almost as dead as me. I couldn't hear, I couldn't see anything in front of me. I couldn't breathe. A thick sob wrenched its way up my throat and out my mouth before I could stop it. I felt sick to my core, and the pain that was battering my insides shook me so hard I nearly fell from the tree that I could no longer feel beneath me. I struggled to get a grip on myself as I processed the realization I had just come to.

Had Bella really looked that way nearly every day for the last six months? Ben seemed to think she looked worse today than she had in awhile, but that didn't mean much. If she still looked that way, even sometimes, after seven months… what had I done to her?

I knew she believed my lies when I told her that I was leaving because I didn't want her anymore. That knowledge, that she could so easily forget everything I'd ever told her before, had cut me deeply. Despite that, though, I was intensely grateful that she had believed me, because I thought it meant she would be able to move on more easily. More than half a year had passed since I left, and still she looked so… broken. Lifeless.

She had more life in her when I found her in the ballet studio in Phoenix. She had more… light in her eyes then than I'd seen today.

I truly was a monster.

I was always instinctively aware of that, though I'd done my best to contain it over the years. But the image of her empty, hollow expression just now was burning itself into my brain, and I realized just how much of a monster I still was.

I successfully resisted the temptation of her blood, but that was the only battle I'd won. I'd lost everything else I stood for when I selfishly imposed myself on Bella's life. I was greedy for sticking around even though I knew it could hurt her. Hideous for allowing her to fall in love with me, and completely unforgivable for getting her deeper entrenched in my world than she ever needed to be. I led our relationship on as though we actually stood the chance of a future together.

True to the monster within, I destroyed the one thing that meant the world to me. The light, the love, the life in Bella's eyes was gone. The monster I fought so hard to suppress had won – after everything.

Completely disgusted, I forced myself to regain my senses. Carefully listening in on the thoughts of those in the school, I quickly found Bella in the thoughts of the student who sat next to her in her first period English class.

My God, she looks awful. Like she didn't sleep at all last night. I know everybody thinks she just went crazy when her boyfriend left – but I wonder if there's something else going on. I wonder if she's on drugs. Imagine Chief Swan's daughter addicted to drugs! She doesn't really seem the type, but that's definitely how she looks right now… like a crack addict in desperate need of a fix. I remember that show I saw on TV one time about drug interventions and that's exactly what the addicts looked like…

Her thoughts turned to an imperfect and fuzzy recollection of what happened on that TV show as she turned her gaze back to the front of the class, and I tuned her out once more.

I couldn't believe this was all because of me. Leaving was supposed to help her, damn it! I left to keep her safe and healthy.

I knew it was a crazy idea that Bella could turn to drugs in my absence. Not especially since the closest place to get your hands on anything harder than weed around here was all the way in Seattle. You just didn't get crack addicts in a tiny town like Forks. I knew she was better than that, anyway. But what if it was something else? What if she had developed an eating disorder, or been drinking, or worse – hurting herself?

I refused to believe that my absence could have driven her to such violent extremes, but I couldn't ignore the evidence in my mind. She looked so breakable…

I don't know if my mind was going into denial to try and protect my broken, unbeating heart, but I was suddenly gripped by the conviction that there must be something else to this whole thing. Everybody seemed to blame me for Bella's current condition, but what if there was something they didn't know? If Bella had gotten sick after I left, she was just the type of person who wouldn't tell a soul. She would never want anyone to feel sorry for her. Bella was a caregiver, completely self-sufficient, and she never let anyone fuss over her. So maybe she was sick. I decided that there must be something else to it, and I was determined to find out what it was.

I hated to leave her this way – apparently alone, isolated from the people around her – but I needed to figure out the truth. I forced myself down from the tree and ran back through the woods towards Bella's home. I didn't stop to get the car this time; I couldn't afford to lose my momentum, so I just kept running, too fast for human eyes to process. Bella's neighborhood was incredibly quiet, most people seemed to be at work or school. I slowed to a walk as I passed through the trees behind her house and into her yard.

I knew it was wrong. I shouldn't go snooping. But I didn't care about manners anymore, couldn't bear not knowing. I scaled the side of the house easily and peered into Bella's bedroom window. It would be impossible to get any information from here. I had to go inside.

Holding my breath, I silently prayed that the window was not locked, and thanked whatever god would listen that it wasn't when I tried the latch. It squeaked up the frame with a loud creak, as though it hadn't been opened in while.

I let out my breath and sucked the air from Bella's bedroom in slowly.

Her scent hit me like a swift punch in the face from Emmet and then washed over me like a tidal wave. The sensation nearly threw me from my perch at the windowsill. My throat burned and crawled and itched painfully, waiting for the release. I swallowed roughly and took in another deep breath.

Not so bad the second time. It was hard to be away from that scent that I adored, but almost harder to be near it again after so much time. Surprisingly, it was even more painful than I remembered.

I climbed swiftly through the opening and closed the window behind me, not wanting the bitter March wind to cool her room. I looked around me. Much of it was the same as I remembered: The half-made bed with tangled sheets showing from under the flat comforter, the ancient computer with papers piled up on the desk around it, even her closet, half open on one side, a pile of clothes at the base of the door that was still closed. I breathed a sigh of relief and found myself comforted by the burning aroma that saturated her things.

I took a step further into the room, trying to re-memorize everything.

Stop it, Edward! This is not a pleasure trip.

I tried hard to focus on why I was here. As I continued my assessment, I noticed there were no books anywhere. That was odd. Bella was always reading, but her favorite Jane Austen novels were nowhere in sight. I took a slightly unsteady step around her small, untidy bed and tried not to remember the last time I had been in this room and held her here.

I looked at the nightstand to the left of her bed. The framed photo of Bella and her mother and the small silver lamp were there, the same as always. Glancing over to the stand to the right of the bed, I saw that the CD player she always kept there was gone. Bella liked to fall asleep to music on those nights when I wasn't around to sing her lullaby to her.

I snuck stealthily around her bedroom, feeling like a dirty criminal just for intruding, but becoming more concerned as I noticed other things that were not right.

The stack of CDs that would have accompanied the small boom box wasn't on her nightstand, either – or anywhere else I could see, for that matter. I began really snooping around, shameless in my concern, and realized there were no books or CDs anywhere in Bella's room. I opened her closet doors and was surprised to find the mirror that hung on the inside of one of them was covered top to bottom with a huge bath towel.

Despite the things that hadn't changed, the room suddenly looked alien to me, like I'd never been here before. Only the burning in my throat assured me that I didn't have the wrong house. Where were all of Bella's things?

On instinct, I crouched down and lifted the dust ruffle around the bottom of her bed to look underneath. All her books were there. Her Jane Austens, her Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein," "Ann of Green Gables," – they were all there, covered in a thin layer of dust. Also under the bed, covered in dust: her CD player and several CDs. Everything looked like it hadn't been touched in ages. I exhaled softly and several dust bunnies flew up to swirl around my face.

It appeared as though Bella didn't live here, like someone else had taken up residence in her room and pushed all of Bella's things out of the way. I suddenly worried that she'd been in the hospital. What if she'd been really sick? Maybe Angela and Ben just wanted to blame me for the hurt I'd caused, but some sort of illness was really to blame for Bella's appearance this morning. Perhaps she hadn't been living here recently.

My rational mind tried to convince my aching heart of this fact while I rifled through the drawers of her nightstands, looking for a hospital bracelet, or a doctor's note – anything to indicate that she had spent some time away from home and school. I rushed to the bathroom and looked in the medicine cabinet for any prescription pills. Maybe she was on a medication that made it hard for her to sleep, or to focus on things like reading and music. But I didn't find anything besides a small bottle of Tylenol, and some Neosporin and bandages.

My theory was dead, and I knew it. I'd known it since I first saw my face flash through the minds of Bella's friends. I knew she hadn't been sick or injured. I had been grasping at straws from the moment I decided to come back to Bella's house, desperate to find anything that could relieve even a little of the crushing guilt and searing pain that pummeled me. I didn't want to believe that the changes in Bella were just because of me. Now I couldn't deny it any longer.

I couldn't stand to be away from her any longer, so I rushed back to Bella's bedroom. Making sure everything was as I found it, I paused for a moment as I remembered the items that were stowed under one of her floorboards by the foot of her bed. I wonder what she suspected I had done with her things. I tried not to imagine how she'd found her things missing as I slipped out her window, shutting it tight behind me. Keeping my composure was a struggle as I ran back to the school and settled high into my tree to wait, and listen.

Unable to find Bella in anyone's head, and frustrated once again that I couldn't just listen to her, I let my mind wander.

I knew now that I had to go back to her. My heart surged and almost seemed to throb with life as I considered allowing myself to be with Bella again. All the ways I had imagined our reunion, I always assumed it would be because of my weakness that I would ask her to forgive me. After all, it was my own selfishness that brought me back to Forks in the first place, but I could see that Bella clearly needed me as much as I needed her.

This realization sent a shiver down my spine, but I wasn't sure if it was one of pleasure or sadness. For one thing, I was devastated that she had endured nearly as much pain as I did. I had hoped it wasn't as hard on her as it had been on me, and I would never be able to make it up to her. On the other hand, I was suddenly so sure that we could be together again that I felt half of the weight I'd been carrying around for the last six months dissipate completely. If I could be with her, I'd gladly spend the next hundred years on my knees, groveling. I would never deserve her forgiveness, but I would try.

Struck with comprehension that I had undoubtedly decided to go back and beg Bella's absolution, I suddenly realized that I had no idea how I would do this.

I couldn't just show up on her doorstep and ring the doorbell… could I?

Maybe I would appear in her window – no, I shot that down quickly. It was a little creepy, even for me. I knew I didn't want to do it in a public place, so I couldn't just show up outside the classroom door and offer to walk her to her next class.

"Hello, Bella, can I carry your books for you?" I imagined myself asking rather lamely. I shook my head; that would never work. The scene playing in my mind continued, though, and I could easily see the shock on Bella's face and her first words to me in over six months.

"Edward? Why are you here? Get away from me, leave me alone," she shouts as she shoves me aside and hurries on without me.

I sighed to myself. Bella never was one for anger like that, but I knew this could be very complicated. I definitely needed some time figure out how I could approach this, and more importantly, what I would say.

I was jolted out of my reverie as I caught her name in the thoughts of her third period Spanish teacher.

Poor Bella Swan, Miss Lopez thought. Her grades have been so good, she's really been working hard. But I wonder if all her hard work and extra credit projects have just been something to keep her busy. She hasn't been the same since that Cullen boy left. The whole family left so abruptly, and I know she was close friends with the sister, too. What was her name… Alice? I know just how she feels. It felt like the end of the world when George first left me, but life goes on. She's so young, I hope she gets over it soon. To waste the young years of your life pining over a boy who so easily leaves you behind… such a shame.

"Miss Lopez? Tengo una pregunta," someone in class asked in awkward Spanish as they raised their hand. With her thoughts about Bella interrupted, I ignored the Spanish teacher once again and returned to tuning out everyone, listening only for Bella's name.

It was still hard for me to believe I meant that much to her. I always hoped, but I believed humans couldn't love like immortals could. They were just too fickle with each other.

I'd never seen a love to rival Carlisle and Esme's, or even Alice and Jasper's. They were only complete when they were together. I always felt that way about Bella, but she wasn't supposed to feel it about me.

Only three hours had passed since I first saw Bella come rushing out of her house, and in that time I learned that she had loved me more than I ever guessed.

In all my years, I'd never seen another human deal so badly with a breakup.

I tried to avoid that word internally, because I still thought of her as mine – my other half – despite the fact that we were no longer together.

I always believed that humans had it fairly easy. They were usually able to deal with their emotions and then move on from them. Without a memory like ours, humans could forget about what had hurt them, and then find something to make them happy again. I'd seen them do it time and time again. It was something I always envied.

Bella's actions had never failed to surprise me, though. She was behaving like any human would who had lost a parent or child – not like the monsters in her life had left town.

I sighed. Bella never acted like anybody else. I should have known.

Of course she still loved me. If she had stopped loving me, she would have moved on by now.

Bella still loved me. My realization caused my overworked brain to fall silent and my heart surged forward with hope. I could almost imagine myself whole again.

Bella would take me back.