Four

The next morning, I got up and went to work on autopilot. I came home late to my empty apartment, exhausted by another depressing day at work.

The next morning, I got up and went to work on auto pilot.

And again the next day.

And again until I found myself sitting in my kitchen on Saturday morning, staring into my coffee, wondering what the hell I was doing with my life.

It wasn't meant to be this way - living to work, rather than working to live. This job was meant to be a means to an end, a way to keep myself afloat while I established myself as a writer. How did I let my job become all consuming?

I wanted to be with Edward. The free time I'd spent with him had made me feel creative again. He made me feel as if life was full of possibilities, as if I was full of possibilities.

Edward had never made any attempt to change me, but he had tried to live with me in my world - until he couldn't stand it anymore. Or was it me he couldn't stand? Was he hoping I'd want to be like him? All I'd done was remind him of his old life, the life he couldn't ever go back to.

Though the thought terrified me, it was obvious really. I should leave my job before it destroyed me, but without it I couldn't afford to stay in my apartment. I would have to find a new way to live, just as Edward had done, and the one thing I was most certain of was: I had to do it for me.

I fished a notebook out of the kitchen drawer, opened up my laptop and started looking through my finances. I'd never been a big spender, my loans were paid off and I had some savings to fall back on if things didn't work out.

Soon I found myself reading blog after blog, written by people that had been, or still were, living in their cars. Many had had little choice but to spend months living this way during a time of financial hardship, but some had made a lifestyle choice, much like Edward, to be free to follow a non-conventional life.

There were hints and tips, links, suggestions and recommendations. I was so lost in reading, bookmarking and note-taking, that I didn't realise I had missed lunch completely.

I forced myself to make some dinner and take a break from my research, but no sooner had I finished eating than I was back to work, drawing up a plan for a different future.

When the evening light started to fade, I went to bed, leaving my curtains wide open. If I was going to follow Edward's example, I'd need to start getting used to being woken by the sun.

...

The next morning, I called my dad and admitted how very unhappy I'd become with my life. Then, taking a deep breath, I rushed out the words I needed say.

"I've decided to give up my job and my apartment and I'm going to live in my car." At his silence, I continued talking more quietly. "I want to see if I can be the writer I always hoped I'd be."

"What brought on this decision?" he said.

He sounded calm enough, so I told him everything that had happened since I'd met Edward and how I had come to the realisation that I could change my life, if I really wanted to.

"But your car, Bella? You could just stay with me."

"I know that, Dad, but it's about more than where I live. It's about living simply, being free to go where I want, when I want and having the mental space to be creative. Edward said he felt liberated."

"You say he left you. We're the two of you involved?"

"No, more like best friends really, at least on his side."

"Perhaps he's gay."

"Dad!"

"You may be my daughter, Bella, but I'm not blind. Why else wouldn't he want to be more than friends?"

"I don't know, Dad. Maybe you're right, but it doesn't matter how I have him in my life, I just wish he was still in it."

"Are you in love with him?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"Uh-huh. So, what do your friends make of this big decision?"

"I haven't talked to anyone else about it and truthfully, I don't really have any close friends anymore. I haven't had the time or the energy."

"Because of Edward?"

"No, because of my job." I sighed.

"You still in touch with Angela?"

"Not very often. It's hard to maintain a friendship with someone who's at work when you're not, especially when they're living in another city."

"I suppose it is. I'm really sorry you've been so unhappy. You should have talked to me sooner."

"I know." I wiped a tear from my eye.

"Okay, Bella. I know you won't have taken this decision lightly, but there's a few things you're going to need to do to keep your old man from worrying himself sick."

"I'm listening."

"Change your address to mine, it is still you're home after all, and then I'll be able to keep any eye on your mail for you. I'll let you know if anything important comes in."

"I was going to ask you if I could do that."

"Good. Next, don't waste your money on storage. Bring your valuables and anything you want kept safe here and we'll put it in your old room. Hopefully you'll find you miss something and have to come visit me to get it back."

"Oh, Dad."

"Let me know when you're coming and I'll book a service for your car. Might as well bring your paperwork too. I want to check it's all in order."

My dad was right of course, I should have called him sooner. This was typical of him, listening without judgement, offering practical advice and support. No doubt when I visited, he'd supply me with a year's worth of pepper spray.

...

By Monday lunchtime, I had given my notice to both my landlord and my boss.

Old Mr Volturi had always treated me like a daughter, so, while he was sad I would be leaving, he wished me every happiness in my new life.

My boss, on the other hand, was distraught. Having already lost two key members of staff, she pleaded with me to work three months notice, instead of the required two weeks, while she was recruiting.

"I'll be travelling," I said, unwilling to give her a more accurate picture of my intentions.

"Couldn't you work remotely?" she asked. "You could write up my notes for me, do some of the regular mailings and edit copy for junior staff members - mentor them even."

I took a few moments to consider her suggestion. The extra income would be useful, especially once I'd stopped paying rent and utility bills. It would buy me more time to establish my writing career, but I had to remember why I wanted to stop work in the first place - to give myself mental space.

"I'll do it, but I'll only work the hours in my contract. No more overtime."

"Okay."

"And once I'm on the road, I'll need to be more flexible about when I work."

"So long as deadlines are met, that should be fine."

I made sure to leave the office at a sensible time for the rest of the week, so I could spend my evenings working through my change of address list.

At the weekend I packed up everything I wanted to take to my dad's house in Forks.

Next, I covered my bed with all my clothes and started to sort through them. My non-work clothes were all quite casual and most were fairly easy to wash and dry, so it wasn't as difficult as I'd expected to put together a wardrobe for my new life. I decided to store my nicest work clothes in my old closet at my dad's house, just in case. Everything else could be donated to charity.

I managed to reduce my necessities to a few bags and boxes that just about fit in the trunk of my car. It was then that I realised I was going to have to sleep on the rear seat to make this work.

...

On Tuesday evening, when I returned from work, I found a letter on my doormat, postmarked Bend, Oregon.

My heart was pounding as I sat on the stairs and opened the envelope to find a pencil drawing of Edward and me, sitting side by side under a tree. I turned it over to find the words he'd written by hand.

Dear Bella,

I'm so sorry.

I never intended to be away this long, only to give us both some space to think. This job was only supposed to last a week, but the client keeps adding more work to the schedule and all I can do, while I work, is think of you.

I miss you much more than I ever thought possible and I'm beginning to think that my home is with you, wherever you may be, and, Bella, I am homesick.

There are things I need to say, things I should have said before I left. I've been holding back and I'm sorry.

Will you wait for me, Bella? I'll be back as soon as I can.

Edward x

Tears of relief were streaming down my face by the time I'd finished reading the letter. His words were soothing and suggested my own feelings might be reciprocated. And so I finished my final week in the office with an increased sense of hope in my heart.

I went to bed early on Friday evening and got up at the crack of dawn on Saturday, to make the five hour drive up the coast to Forks.