"Are you ever going to talk to me again?"

We had remained in silence for the last hour, and it both relieved and terrified me that he seemingly had nothing to say. Relieved because any moment he could say,"I'm leaving, and this time I will make sure to stay gone." Terrified because he had not made a promise to fix me, to fix us, and that meant he could see how incredibly unfixable I was.

I'm not going to lie, the prospect of becoming a permanent mute held much appeal to me at the moment. After all, I didn't exactly have a line of people waiting for me to engage them in conversation. I never left the house, and noone ever came to see me. Noone ever even called me anymore, probably due to my constant passing of the ringing telephone. And on the rare occasion that I did pick up the damn thing, just to relieve the constant ringing in my ears, the other line seemed to always get disconnected. Whether this was my bad timing or their purposeful desire to tease my need for sympathy, I did not know.

What use did my voice have if noone chose to hear it?

He stared at me during my silence, apparently waging a war inside his stupidly beautiful head. I don't know if he felt I was too far away or if he simply just wanted to irritate me even more in order to see how far I could be pushed, but he crawled onto the floor next to me, climbing down from my bed where he had previously rested. He sat next to me underneath the windowsill, mirroring my position with his knees pulled against his chest and his torso slumped forward onto them. I wanted to tell him that he needed to leave if he wanted to keep me sane. I wanted to tell him that with each breath I could hear him take next to me, my heart shattered all over again, turning my soul darker with each inhalation. I wanted to tell him to run away again and never come back because I couldn't bare to be next to him without being held in his arms, and hated so much that I couldn't trust him enough to do so. I wanted to tell him that even after all he had put me through, it was impossible to stop loving him.

I wanted to tell him all of this, but all I could manage was silence.

He leaned over towards me, and I could tell he was struggling with the desire to put his arms around me. I struggled with the desire to sooth his stress by running my fingers through the hair on his bowed head, or rubbing circles on his arched back through his black Oxford. But I couldn't touch him, because I knew the second my hands came into contact with his cool body, all of my reservations would be thrown out of my window to be taken care of by the wind, and I simply could not allow that to happen.

Not again.

"Bella, why are you so afraid to talk to me?" His voice held so much sadness in its tone and it killed me that I couldn't just lean over and kiss it away. I just shrugged my shoulders and shook my head to the side, leaning it back against the wall, and knowing the reason for my fear but not wanting to say it.

"This is killing me too, Bella. It kills me to see you like this, and it absolutely crushes me to know I'm the one that caused it." I scrunched my eyes in suffering, not wanting to feel his pain anymore than I wanted to feel my own.

"Sweetheart, what can I say to you? How can I make up everything I've done to you?" He sounded genuinely heartbroken as he realized that he may never be able to make it up to me. He reached over to rub my shoulder but I just shook my head rapidly and squeezed my eyes shut again, communicating my need for some sort of distance.

"You won't even let me touch you? Oh God...no, Bella, what have I done to you?" He sobbed against his hand, which he used to cover his face.

I knew what I was doing was unfair. I was causing both of us unnecessary pain by refusing his touch, and by refusing to reveal my heartbreak to him aloud. But if I did that, then he would understand just how desperate for him I was, and I couldn't let him see that part of me...not yet, if ever. Once he saw that, there was no guarantee he would want to stay here, not with a mess to clean up after. After a seemingly infinite amount of time pondering all of the possible outcomes of this situation, I came to a conclusion which I thought was best...for the both of us. I stood up slowly, and he followed my lead. I turned to stare out the window, already regretting my next words, but knowing I had to say them.

My voice took on an eerily quiet tone when I spoke, almost wishing he wouldn't hear me, "We can't do this again, Edward." I heard him take in a sharp breath behind me, not believing I was the one suggesting our separation. When he spoke, his voice broke, something I had never heard before. I turned my head over my shoulder to look at him when he began his argument.

"But Bella, we owe each other this. After all of that pain, we deserve this relief. We both want this—we both need this, I know you do. I know deep down in your heart you feel the same way. I know you can't live without this." He gestured his hand between us. My voice was weak, breaking right alongside my heart.

"You're right, maybe I can't. Maybe I can't go on breathing in this world without you next to me. But I just owe it to myslef to try."

"You already have tried, Bella. We both have. It was my own fault to let this happen and I'm sorry." He dropped to his knees and locked his arms around the back of my legs, his hands gripping the backs of my thighs. He rested his head on my abdomen, pressing his face into my stomach, before he began his pleading. His tone was infinitely anguished as he spoke his regrets.

"I'm sorry I deceived you. I'm sorry I forced you to think for so long that you weren't desperately loved by me. But you are, Bella, you are," he shook my body with his arms with the intensity of his declaration, "I love you Bella, and I can't stand to see you like this. I need to make you see the true depth of my love. We need to rediscover each other, Bella. We need to. I can't live without you. I won't live without you. Please, Bella, it kills me to see you like this. Please, give me what I need!"

I looked down at his quivering form through blurry eyes, asking, "What do you need, Edward?"

"I need my Bella back." Then he started sobbing into my stomach, his grip around the back of my legs becoming tighter. I know I promised myself I wouldn't do this, but I had to. I had to give us another chance. I knotted my hands in his bronze mess of locks, and held him tightly to me as I started crying with him.

"Is there anything I can do? Just tell me, please, and I'll do it. I'll do anything. Please , just let me take care of you, Bella. Let me love you. I need you to believe that I love you. I need you to know how I want you. I need you to believe how much I need you. Please, Bella, please. I love you, so much."

It tore my soul in two to see the man I loved so broken, so...defeated. Could I let him love me again? Could I trust him again? Could I trust myself enough to let him know I love him as well?

I didn't know the answer to any of these questions, but it didn't matter.

All that mattered was that I would give us another chance.

Hello my lovely, wonderful, loyal readers!!! Sorry it has been so long...as you know I am not the best updater. Please review to let me know what you think!!!! :)