Edward

I turn the small box over in my hand, running my thumb over the velvet. I open it and try to imagine her saying yes. Tanya.

I only see Bella's face.

And it's a no.

The box closes with a snap. I toss it back into the drawer and slam it shut.

Standing in the doorway to the kitchen, I watch her make breakfast. She doesn't see me. Her blonde hair hangs down her back in long waves. She hums a song I don't recognize while she flits around the kitchen.

I try to remember all of the reasons I bought that ring. She's smart. She's generous. She's pretty. And she loves me. As I've done yesterday, the day before that, and every day since I met her, I try to convince myself that it's enough.

She turns and catches me staring. A smile that slowly fades as she assesses my mood.

"Edward, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

I'm a liar.

I spend the next few days, weeks, months trying to go back to the way things were but sometimes there is no going back.

It's a Friday. I rush home from work ready to be chastised for making us late for our reservation. I open the front door, expecting to see Tanya waiting for me, raised eyebrows and pursed lips.

The house is too silent to be trusted.

"Tanya?" There's no answer. I walk hurriedly into the bedroom and my stomach turns sour.

She's wearing an ice blue cocktail dress, showing just enough of her perfectly tanned and toned skin, and every strand of her hair is immaculately curled. Her bright blue eyes are as wide as ever, staring at the little velvet box that sits in the palm of her hand. She turns it over, much the same way I've done a thousand times.

"Tanya…" I don't know what to say. I should know.

She peaks up at me through her lashes, her eyes filled with hopes for the future. "Is this for me?"

"Yes," is all that comes out. It's true but it's not everything.

The day I bought that ring for Tanya, I spent the whole time pushing Bella's face from my mind. Her face. Her touch. Her laugh. Her smell. Her blush. Her toes.

It felt like a betrayal and it still does, only to the wrong woman.

Tanya deserves more than a man who's thinking of another woman's toes when buying her engagement ring.

I thought I just needed time. Time is supposed to heal all wounds. But time hasn't been nearly enough.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin it." Her eyes are pleading.

I want to tell her that she didn't ruin anything. It's been ruined since before it began.

She sets the box down and motions toward it. "I didn't look."

I want to tell her that it doesn't matter.

"Tanya…"

"No, it's okay, Edward. I'll wait until you're ready to ask me. I'll wait as long as you need." She means it. I'm a bastard.

Then I realize that I wanted her to find the ring. I needed her to find that ring, all so that I could tell her that I can't ever give it to her. This is the kind of man I've become.

"Time isn't what I need."

The hope on her face gives way to confusion. "Tell me what you need, Edward, and I'll give it to you."

I feel it in the pit of my stomach. "You can't."

The tears well up in her eyes. "Is this about her?"

"Who?" It's an accusation, even though she is the one who should be accusing me.

"Bella."

Hearing her name on Tanya's lips is a shock to my system. For a second, I can see Bella's tear stained face staring back at me, and then she's gone. We don't talk about Bella.

I shake my head. "What makes you think that this has anything to do with Bella?"

"Bella doesn't matter, Edward." A stake to the heart.

"I didn't ask you if she mattered."

I can feel it unraveling. I fight the urge to defend her against the woman that I'm supposed to love.

"I asked you what made you think this was about Bella."

Tanya's hands go up in the air, exasperated. "I found your photographs, alright?"

"What?" But I know exactly what she means.

"The ones you keep in that old book. You don't have a single possession that you care about except for that stupid book. I didn't even read To Kill a Mockingbird in high school, Edward. I had to see why you were so attached to it. For the record, I still don't get it. I know it's a metaphor and everything but mockingbirds are obnoxious."

All I have left of her.

There is a wicked storm raging outside.

Alice is in the kitchen, which means my dad isn't home. She is stirring the contents of a huge pot and it's the most amazing smell on the planet.

"Please tell me that's dinner."

She smiles at me and it's disarming to see mom in her face.

"Italian Wedding Soup." Something they used to make together.

I sit by the window and watch the storm as she cooks. The wind whips against the house, rattling it's bones. The rain pounds against the ground, as the driveway becomes a river. A chill runs through me and I can't help but wonder what Bella is doing in this moment.

She hasn't been to the barn in days. As far as I can tell, anyway. Not since the night I kissed her in the woods. The blanket remains in the loft. I've memorized the folds. Every book in the same spot. I still go, just in case. I don't want to keep her away from something that she loves. But it's my only chance to talk to her. Alone. Without the prying eyes and ears at school. The barn was the one place where she would talk to me.

"Hey, Al, I'll be back in an hour. I have to go check on something."

"You're going out in this?" She looks at me like I'm crazy, but I don't blame her because I am.

"You used to love the rain. Remember when we'd run around in our underwear in the pouring rain?"

"Yeah, I remember. But that is not rain." She points to the window with a look of utter disgust. And she's right.

I walk out the front door without a coat. There is no use in attempting to stay dry.

In the half hour it takes me to get to the barn, I can think of nothing but her face. Her eyes. How they say everything and nothing at all. The way her nose turns pink when she's cold. Her lips. How soft they are.

The way she kissed me back.

As I walk through the open barn doors, I tell myself that she won't be here but a small part of me still expects to find her curled up with a book.

While it's a relief to be out of the pelting rain, the mud under my feet is thicker than anything and it's seeping into my shoes before I can do anything about it. They're ruined. I kick them off at the bottom of the ladder and peel off my nasty socks. I climb up in my bare feet, holding on to a sliver of hope that she'll be up in the loft. She's not.

The scene in front of me is horrifying. Everything is sopping wet. Everything. The blanket. The books.

A hole in the roof.

And the water continues to pour in. I feel like I might throw up. They're just books. Just books. But I know that they're so much more than that. To her. Somehow I feel responsible for all of it.

I take the top book off of the nearest pile and make my way down the ladder. I forgo the socks and slip on my ruined shoes. I run all the way home.

Alice is packaging up the soup as I throw open the front door.

I have to shout to be heard over the storm. "Alice, I need your help. Get your jacket. Let's go."

"What happened?"

"Bella's barn. It's flooding. Everything is ruined. Please, just come with me."

"Wait, you're actually allowing me to go with you to the sacred barn?"

"Damn it, Alice, are you going to help me or not?"

"Alright, alright. Just let me get my boots and my coat."

I set the book on the stairs. I grab the two camping backpacks from the hall closet. The ones that have never been used. My dad went out and purchased everything my mom ever talked about in Forks. I throw around a bunch of junk in the garage until I uncover the wheelbarrow. Also, never been used.

The walk back is longer with the wheelbarrow in tow. The wheelbarrow and Alice. The rain is relentless. We stop several times to dump out the water. I thought it was quaint that the barn wasn't accessible by car. I no longer have an appreciation for quaint.

Alice doesn't say much on the walk over and I'm grateful. She crinkles up her nose as we arrive.

"This is it?"

"Yeah."

"It's not much to look at, is it?"

I wonder what she sees.

In the time I've been gone, the storm has reached new levels of destruction. The water is now pouring down from the loft. A waterfall. Even more mud.

We fill the backpacks with as many books as we can carry. The rest go in the wheelbarrow with the blanket. I imagine Bella bringing them here one at a time, slowly adding to her collection.

The little window in the loft rattles in protest to the wind. An eeriness settles around the space, now that it's empty.

As we stand in the doorway to the barn, holding on to our last semblance of protection before we start our way back, I eye the wheelbarrow wearily, piled high with Bella's books. Alice pulls her coat off without so much as a word and drapes it over the books and we head home. She doesn't complain about the weight of her backpack, even though I know it must be killing her. Because that's what you do for the people you love. When they need you, you help them. When they ask you for something, you do it. She knows that better than anyone. At least she does now.

An hour later we're home. Shivering. Filthy. Cranky and tired.

Alice's lips are blue. "You should go take a hot shower." Dad would kill me if he saw her like that.

"Alright. I can help you when I've warmed up. What about you?"

"I'm just going to start pulling the books out."

"I hope she's worth it, Edward. I hope she's worth it." She's not saying it to be mean. I'd be worried too. "At least change your clothes, Edward. You look like a drowned rat."

I strip down in my room and put on some dry sweats and a hoodie. I turn the heat up as high as it goes. My mom always insisted on leaving the thermostat at 64 in the winter. Which meant it was always freezing. I can almost hear her lecturing me about the electricity bill. The fact that I can remember the intonations of her voice makes me smile.

The books are ruined. I know this. But it doesn't stop me from trying to save them.

The books. Something else.

I lay out a tarp in the den and start fanning them out. At least if they dry properly they won't start to disintegrate or mold. Their pages will be forever crinkled, but that seems insignificant at this point.

Alice and I spend the next hour draping the books over makeshift clotheslines across the den.

"Are you going to call her?"

"She won't talk to me."

"Edward, I don't know why you're doing this to yourself." As if I had a choice.

"I know. Why don't you say it one more time?"

"I just don't understand why you are torturing yourself like this."

"You mean like you're torturing yourself, Alice?"

"That's not fair." She's right. She walks out.

The rain has finally stopped, but it still looks like a warzone outside. Branches and leaves littered everywhere, covering up every bit of civilization.

I startle myself as I walk past the hall mirror. I look like death. I stare at my reflection for a moment, just long enough to assure myself that I'm very much alive.

On my way up to my room, I pick up the book I left on the stairs. To Kill a Mockingbird. As I unstick the pages, a small photograph falls out. It's faded and tattered but I recognize her instantly. My mom. She's laughing with another girl, who I can only assume is Renee. She looks exactly like Bella. I want to keep it. A piece of my mom and a piece of Bella.

I take a long shower, knowing that it will only make everything slightly better.

A knock on the bathroom door.

"What?"

"Someone is here to see you."

I open the door in a towel to find Alice's smirk, which means it can only be Rosalie. Again. And just when I thought today couldn't get any worse.

"Can't you get rid of her?"

"Well, I could. But I thought you might want to talk to Bella."

"What? Bella's here? At the front door?"

"In the flesh." She's smiling. Really smiling.

"Well, did you invite her in?"

"No, I slammed the door in her face and told her to get off our porch." Please let this be her sarcastic voice.

"Alice."

"Edward."

"Alice."

"Oh, good God , Edward, she's in the living room."

"Well go keep her company while I get dressed!" By the way she looks at me, it's clear that she doesn't appreciate my tone.

"Please."

She gives me a reluctant smile and turns from my room to make her way down stairs.

As I throw on some jeans and a t-shirt, my mind comes up with every possible scenario for why she's here. Maybe she decided not to fight it anymore. She's here to kiss me senseless. Maybe she went to the barn and saw what happened. She's here to thank me. Or she's here to yell at me some more and tell me to get the fuck out of her life. Again. That sounds about right.

I grab To Kill a Mockingbird and race down the hall. I practically trip down the stairs. I need to get a grip. Or get laid. Preferably both.

She's sitting in the armchair talking to Alice, who to her credit actually seems to be making an effort. Bella doesn't look mad. That's something. I want to eavesdrop on their conversation, but her eyes suddenly meet mine and I've been caught.

"Hi." Her voice is shy. And perfect.

I wave at her. Like a loser.

Alice spins around to face me. "I'll just be in the kitchen. Nice to see you, Bella." Bella gives her a small smile and Alice scampers off, leaving us alone.

"Bella, I'm sorry." The words fall out of my mouth. I'm so used to saying them. It just seems like the thing to say.

She holds up the purple jacket. "I wanted to return this."

"Oh." I immediately feel foolish.

"What are you sorry for?" Her eyes go to the book in my hand and she's confused.

"I thought maybe you went to the barn and you were pissed that I messed with your stuff."

"What?"

"I was just trying to help."

Usually, she won't look at me. But not today.

Her eyes widen as I recount the scene at the barn.

She follows me to the den and covers her mouth with the back of her hand when she sees them. Her books. It's silent for a long time. I feel the need to touch her. I know I shouldn't.

Her voice is soft as she whispers, "Edward, I can't believe you did this." I'm not sure what she's thinking.

"Nobody's ever… I mean, I can't believe you went out in that storm and trudged all my books back here. Especially after everything I said to you." Her voice catches in her throat.

"I know how much they mean to you." The floor is suddenly very interesting. I tap the hardwood with my foot.

"Edward?"

"Yeah?"

She looks so beautiful in this moment. Doe eyes and parted lips. "Thank you."

I nod. I can feel it in the tips of my ears.

She walks around the room, leafing through her books. I fight the urge to apologize for taking the photograph. I don't say anything.

She spins around and walks toward me. "I know I said we couldn't be friends." She bites the inside of her cheek. "Maybe I was wrong."

I don't hide my smile.

I keep my hands in my pockets. It's all I can do to keep myself from touching her.

I speak slowly, emphasizing every word, demanding her to listen. "Tanya, this isn't about Bella."

"Then what is it about?"

"It's about you and I."

"Well alright then, what's wrong?"

I know I have to say the words aloud, but they refuse to come out in anything more than a whisper.

"I can't marry you Tanya."

She takes a sharp breath in and starts moving towards me, muttering to herself, "Well that's alright, we don't need to get married. It's just a piece of paper. We don't need that. It doesn't mean anything." I wonder if she can hear the desperation in her voice.

"No."

"No?" The tears are angry now.

"It's not fine, Tanya. It shouldn't be fine."

I take a deep breath. I sit down on the bed, our bed, and run my hands over my face. I look up at her standing there in front me, begging me to love her the way that she loves me. The way that she wants to love me.

My voice is barely there. "Tanya, what do you want?"

She doesn't hesitate. "I want you."

"That's not what I'm asking. What do you want?"

She eyes me wearily. "I don't know what you mean."

I take her hand in mine. "Do you remember before we started dating and we hung out on the balcony at that house party?"

"Of course I remember. That's the night I fell in love with you." The idea of me, maybe.

"Tanya, you told me about all your dreams for the future. How you were going to get married after finishing school. How you've had your whole wedding planned since you were a little girl. How you wanted to have a handful of children by the time you were thirty so that you'd have the energy to keep up with them."

She nods. "The only reason you remember all that, Edward, is because you wanted the same things! Marriage, children. You wanted all of it too."

"You're right."

She pulls her hand from mine. Her eyes flicker.

"Was she at Alice's wedding?"

I try to look away. "Who?" I know I'm not being fair to her.

She glares at me and the fierceness in her eyes is something else. "Don't you dare, Edward."

"Yes, she was there, alright?"

"What did she do to you?"

"What?"

"What did she do to you to make you like this? You were fine before you left LA." Her face is painted with disgust.

"I wasn't fine, Tanya. I haven't been fine in a long time."

"She really fucked you up, you know that?"

I shake my head.

"Tanya…"

"Did you hook up with her, Edward?"

"Tanya, this isn't about Bella!"

She puts her hands on her hips. "I deserve to know."

For a second, I contemplate lying to her, but I'm not that kind of liar. "No, Tanya. It wasn't like that. Besides, you know I would never do that to you."

"Do I? Don't act all noble now, Edward. You've spent years with me and all the while you were in love with another woman."

"Tanya…"

"I'm the one who has been here with you. Where has she been? Huh, Edward? Where has she been?"

"I told you, Tanya, this isn't about Bella."

"Then what is it about? Enlighten me."

She deserves the truth. After all this time of giving her the bare minimum, she deserves at least the truth. I have to say the words.

"It's about the fact that I will never love you enough."

She freezes. "You mean you'll never love me the way that you love her?"

She knows. And she almost looks relieved.

"What if I said I didn't care? What if I said it doesn't matter?"

What?

"It should matter! You should want more than that, Tanya. You deserve more."

"Where is Bella now?"

"I don't know."

"She doesn't even want you, Edward."

"I know."

"So, what, you're doing to me what she did to you? Are you trying to make yourself feel better, Edward?"

"I'm trying to do the right thing."

She points a finger at me and the venom in her voice oozes out in fast spurts. "If your mother was alive, she'd be so disappointed in you, Edward. She's probably rolling over in her grave. You're a despicable excuse for a human being."

And I know it's over.

She throws the ring box across the room and the sound of it hitting the wall makes it final.

"You said all of those things to me, Edward. You said I was beautiful. You said you loved me. You said you would give me anything I wanted!"

"I lied." The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. Before I can hear their impact.

She takes a step back and we're strangers.

"Tanya, you deserve someone who loves you as much as you love him. You deserve someone who can give you everything you've ever wished for."

She glares at me with pity and hate. "Thanks for wasting years of my life."

"I'm sorry." It's not enough but I don't know what else to say.

And then she's gone.

Her sisters come for her things and I live in an empty house.