Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of S. Meyer, or themselves. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

AN: I completely missed updating on schedule (almost two weeks ago) so I am posting one chapter today and then another tomorrow. That should get me back on my post every other Thursday schedule. I had a little incident with a flash drive and other assorted RL issues get in the way of the schedule – I'm sure you all understand.

Playlist for this chapter:

Oceansize – Unravel (or Ravel - Le Gibet from Gaspard de la Nuit)

Arcade Fire – Ocean of Noise

A-ha – Manhattan Skyline

Links to my WIP playlists and a banner for this story are on my profile page.

Enjoy!

Chapter 7

I awoke for the third morning in a row in Edward's bed, soft light from the muted television illuminating him asleep on the bed next to me. I glanced over to the clock in panic, hoping I had the time I needed to stop by Angela's and get to the airport, and realized it was still the middle of the night, 3:30 am.

Relieved, I lay back down for a few more hours of sleep.

But now I was awake, hyperaware of Edward's body next to mine. We were both still naked and the heat from his body warmed the space under the covers.

My eyes roamed the exposed part of his torso cataloging the pattern of his chest hair, cords of his muscle and hard lines of his shoulders. I tentatively reached out to touch him, but he didn't move or make a sound, far gone into sleep.

After one touch I couldn't not touch him. While he remained statue still, I let my lips and fingertips softly brush over the exposed flesh, exploring upward to kiss the lines of his neck and jaw.

Suddenly, I realized the time I had left with him was measured in hours, not days, and I felt the need to impress every part of him into my memory. My lips and fingers moved more widely across his body, tracing his tiny nipples and the hollows of his ribs. He moaned quietly as my hand swept down the plane of his abdomen, pushing the comforter down, and swirled into the trail of hair. Soon, his erection was nudging at my hand and his moans swelled when I finally took it into my hand.

I looked up, and in the dim glow, saw his eyes were cracked open just before I stroked him gently, causing them to roll back in his head. He threw his head back with a deep moan as I wrapped my hand more tightly and increased my speed. He was no longer at rest, but tight and writhing, whispering my name. I wanted to join him in that unhinged state, so I moved myself over and onto his waiting erection.

Once joined, we both whispered mantras of each other's names.

Edward... Edward, my Stranger

Bella... Bella... Beautiful Girl

Edward

Bella

Edward

Bella… ughnn

Edward... Edward, Edward... Edwaaah

I had never been so connected to another person. I searched though my memories of Jake for a time when I had been physically and emotionally lost in him, but could only recall our sex life as an obligation.

I continued to grind against Edward as I reflected on it. I realized that my attitude towards sex, especially once Jake and I were married, had always been one of fulfilling a duty. Of course I had derived pleasure from the act, and pleasing Jake, but fulfillment of my desire had always taken a backseat. So much that I often did not have an orgasm and I hadn't really even worried about it.

But now that I had experienced sex with a partner that cared if I was satisfied, and even more so, connected to emotionally during the act, I could clearly see the contrast. In that moment, I could not imagine returning to the sexual, albeit marital, relationship I had shared with Jake.

Being with someone other than Edward.

The thought stabbed through me, causing physical pain in my chest.

That pain filled me and spilled over in a patter of tears, softly landing with tampered beats against the the sheet beneath. I let out one small sob and then I was suddenly crying in earnest while our bodies still moved in pleasurable sync. My sobs became louder and Edward suddenly became aware of my state.

"Are you crying, Bella," he asked, concern in his gravelly whisper. "Are you hurt?"

"Not… in the way… you think," I chocked out between each sobbing breath in.

"Are you thinking of leaving... Of him?" he asked, nostrils flaring and eyes flashing in the flicking light.

"No… yes… I don't know," I moaned in response, filled with so many conflicting emotions. I knew I had to return to Jake, but how could I be happy with him after Edward.

"I will make you forget him. I will make you forget anyone but me," he vowed, tightening his hold on my hips. In a flurry of motion, Edward had pushed me down onto my back, pressing himself tightly into me to maintain contact the whole way. His eyes also bore into mine, never breaking contact. His hands were set firmly as he rocked our hips in slow rhythm, grinding against my pelvis.

He delivered on his promise, my heartbeat throbbing steadily, heavily, in my ears as I built into the first orgasm I had ever achieved from intercourse. Something about the angle, slow pace and possessive tone of his voice, resonated in my body as I clawed and begged him for more. When the moment of my physical release was achieved, I exploded into thousands of tiny shards beneath him, breaking, forgetting, floating.

Once back on Earth and in his arms, he held me and softly stroked the hair back from my face.

"Come back to sleep. We will sort it in the morning," he commanded, pulling me gently, but firmly against his body. Within minutes he was back to sleep, soft kisses and then just his even breath on the back of my neck. But I couldn't drift off into a procrastinating sleep. I was still wide awake, watching the minutes on the clock count down our time together again.

From the moment we met, the time of my departure had been drawing nearer. Our goodbye was never in question, just the ultimate time and manner of it. But, having to watch Edward's eyes as he begged, as I knew he would, would just make it that much more difficult to leave. Prolonging my departure could only be worse.

With that finally resolved in my mind, I swiftly moved into action.

I crept out of bed and set myself into motion. After feeling my way along the desk in the dim light, I found a sheet of hotel stationary in an annoyingly clever drawer concealed in the underside of the desk. With the paper in hand, I tiptoed over to my purse to retrieve a pen and scooped Edward's phone from the coffee table. I quickly checked that the minute noises I had made in my search for writing materials had not reawakened Edward, grabbed my discarded clothes and crept silently to the bathroom. Once the door was softly, but completely closed, I turned on the lights to illuminate the terrible work I set myself to do.

I wrote swiftly, finding all the sentiments I needed to convey fit in an impossible small number of words.

My dear Stranger,
Please forgive me for writing my goodbye to you in a letter, but I would never be strong enough to leave if you asked me to stay. I can just barely break the gravity between us to leave now. Leave as I must have from the beginning.

Although it is not my right to give it, my heart now belongs to you.

But, and I know you will understand, my decisions can not be guided by my heart. I have obligations to a husband, and more importantly, two children who I could never prioritize below any other consideration.

My dearest wish is that the empty spot that has been left in lieu of my heart, will hold the memories of our time together for both of us. I have erased all traces of myself so that you may move forward unencumbered any burdens beyond my poor heart and its hope that you will find true happiness like that you have given to me.

This letter will be the only memento you shall have of me. Be assured that I will not trouble your career or personal life in the future.

In love and longing,
Your Bella

I folder the paper, writing his name on one side and picked up his phone next. I scrolled through the matrix of images until I got to the few taken during our time together. There was one of me in profile from the White Lips show that I hadn't known that Edward had taken. The rest were from earlier today, or technically yesterday… of us together on the beach. I quickly forwarded all of the photos containing my image and the one I had taken of Edward on the beach to my phone. Then I erased any traces of myself from his phone. I deleted the images, my phone number and the text messages I had sent earlier. As I erased the last message, I felt more burdened rather than less, but it was my burden to endure in the face of my behavior.

Once I had dressed and cleaned up a bit, I turned off the bathroom light and slowly, quietly opened the bathroom door. I expected to find Edward immediately on the other side, somehow godly omniscient in regards to my plan to leave, but he was still just a man, silhouetted by the glow of the television on the bed. I silently tread over to the table where I had picked up his phone, replaced it, and left the letter next to it.

It would have been wiser for me to have left at that point, but I hadn't made any wise decisions since meeting Edward so I wouldn't start now – just as I was leaving him.

I walked silently over to the bed, devouring the lines of his muscled back and hard edges of his profile as he slept on his stomach. I leaned down and brushed the barest trace of my lips against his brow, and let the intense buzz of our touch overcome me for the last time.

I almost gave in at that moment and crawled back beneath the covers. Instead, I clenched the comforter at the edge of the bed let out a silent, screaming sob against my other fist and then slowly backed away until I was able to grab the back of the couch for support. Willing my knees to hold me for just a few more minutes, I steeled myself to walk out the door. My last memory of Edward was the too bright fluorescent light from the hallway spotlighting his form as I quietly opened and closed the door.

I managed to make it to the elevator before I stumbled on my weak knees. I kept my wobbling to a minimum until I collapsed into my car in the parking garage. But, I didn't let myself cry or wallow too long, fearing Edward would awaken and come find me still sitting in a daze in the hotel garage.

I pulled the car out of the parking garage and onto the empty streets. There was no traffic on an early Sunday morning in a still slumbering downtown Los Angeles. Through blurry eyes, I watched each neon lit city block flicker past. I was relieved the outside world was calm and subdued because I was a violent tumult on the inside.

In my distressed state, I missed the entrance for the freeway and found myself just in front of the theater where I had attended the premiere on Wednesday night. It was shocking to reflect that it had been just over three days since I had bumped into Edward and found myself utterly under his spell. So much had changed.

I pulled the car over realizing that I couldn't see to drive through the fresh batch of tears spilling from my eyes as I recalled our meeting.

His deep smooth voice, his reactions to my questions in his deep curious eyes, the push and pull of our conversation, and that tingle I still felt in his presence. We never stood a chance of fighting the attraction. All of our subsequent attempts to work it out were and would be doomed. I had done the only thing that could possibly break that spell...

Left him.

And hopefully, time and distance, would help us forget.

I finally put the car in gear, found my way back to the freeway. After a short ride, I was back and Angela's and all was still silent. The sun hadn't yet risen, but the sky was just starting to lighten as I let myself into the guest room. I briefly thought about lying back down to sleep, but realized I would never be able to shut my eyes without seeing Edward. It was better if I just gathered my belongings and headed for the airport.

The last thing I did before departing was leave a note for Angela with my deepest apologies and a request that she contact me. I explained that I had cut all contact with Edward and had no intention of seeing him ever again. I acknowledged the fact that I had unfairly asked her to keep this from Jake and thanked her for being willing to do so for a crappy friend like me. I could only hope that after our years of friendship, Angela would eventually be ready to accept my apology.

My plane didn't leave until mid-morning, but I decided it would just be best to head to the airport immediately. I was flying out of Burbank, not the more popular LAX. Edward would most likely look for me at the latter if he did try to come after me.

After saying a bittersweet goodbye to the mid-life crisis mobile (I'd grown fond of it after so many moments with Edward in the passenger seat), making my way through check-in and security, and purchasing an overpriced cup of chai tea, I found myself at the gate with a few hours to wait. I pulled out a novel as camouflage so I could stare uncomprehendingly at the page and try to order my thoughts.

About numerous things I was absolutely positive.

I hadn't visited Los Angeles with the intention of having an affair.

I hadn't intended to fall in love with a man who was not my husband - but I had.

I had never wanted to be 'just friends' with Edward Cullen.

I didn't want to run away from him and I didn't want this to be goodbye. But I couldn't choose to leave my family.

I didn't want to face Edward again, only to leave. I could call him now, but even miles across Los Angeles, I could almost feel his anguish and I couldn't watch that hurt on his beautiful face as I said goodbye.

I didn't want to hurt Edward. I didn't want to hurt Angela. I didn't want to hurt myself. But I had.

I didn't want to cry again, I just wanted to be strong and atone for the hurt I'd caused to those that meant the most to me - I hoped in time I could.

I would never see Edward's face again - at least not in person - but I would be taunted with it in the media and that torture was no worse than I deserved.

As I boarded the plane, just a handful of hours away from returning to my normal life, I would have liked to been able to admit that I felt relief.

When my plane departed and no dramatic scene that involved Edward yelling for me across the airport lounge ensued, I would have liked to been able to admit that I felt relief.

But I did not. I felt empty - empty and guilty.

Guilty for what I had done to Jake, guilty for putting Angela in the middle of it, and guilty for never giving Edward a chance to say goodbye.

But I knew goodbye was not a word that he would ever willingly say to me, so I had left him without a choice.

At some point during the flight, I must have drifted to exhausted sleep, because I woke up drooling on my arm as bells chimed our decent into Washington, DC.

Jake and the kids met me at the airport with huge grins, hugs that pulled me off my feet and a homemade sign proclaiming, We "heart" U Mommy.

"Mommy, are you home for good?" Billy asked, as he clung to my leg. With his stick-straight black mop of hair, big brown eyes and tanned skin, his was the spitting image of the Jake I remembered from my childhood. I nodded yes and turned to pick up Claire as she made a running jump into my arms.

"I wrewy missed you Mama," she cried in her high pitched singsong. I stroked her long, dark hair as I hugged her tightly to me. Tears finally broke through the dam I had created in my attempt to get home without breaking down again and I was unable to stop as we waited for my luggage. Jake patted my back in support as I sniffled away against his chest. This in turn made the tears fall faster, his chest being the wrong one for the consolation I needed.

"Sssshhh," Jake calmly breathed in my ear, "you'll upset the kids." He was right, I was acting just a bit too upset to pretend I was crying tears of joy at the reunion with my family. I'd managed to stopper my tears by the time we piled into the car for the trip back home.

"Let's order a pizza," Jake suggested, tenderly rubbing my leg to show his concern. I generally took care of all the meals and this was Jake's way of letting me off the hook for the evening.

"Hooray, I wuv pizza," Claire cheered as Billy high-fived Jake. Any worry the kids might have been harboring for me disappeared in their excitement to have a rarely allowed "junk food."

After pizza and a movie, I put the kids to bed for the night. Jake helped me unpack before I got ready for bed myself.

"Fuck yeah, Bella! You found some awesome scores," Jake exclaimed as he pawed through all the vinyl records I'd brought back from LA. He was thrilled with the special items I'd found for him and sent me to bed alone after I claimed exhaustion while he played a few albums.

I finally felt a small bit of the relief I was so longing for when I realized that I didn't have to fabricate an explanation for my behavior or have an intimate reunion with Jake, at least not yet.

As I lay with my eyes closed, waiting for sleep, I wondered what Edward was doing across the miles. It would come to be my new obsession.