Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper


Rebecca POV

When you have a dying daughter, you do everything in your power to save her – right? But what if it wasn't enough? What if all the parental love in the world couldn't save your little girl? What if in the process you lose everything else?

Every time I look at Leah tied down to her hospital gurney, her arms attached to countless IVs, her pale, leukemia skin blending in with the white walls of the room, I see my husband. Her pale blue eyes are replicas of his, and every time she smiles in her fight, I see the corners of Billy's lips upturned. My replica, my little duplicate, has already lost his fight. But that's a sacrifice Billy and I had to make a fight to save his duplicate.

When Leah was nine, I heard her consistent screams echoing from the second-floor bathroom, and when I busted the door open I stand there to find her blood running down her legs, her underpants soaked through. Billy got the kids and car, and we sped to the emergency room so fast we would have had totaled another car if it weren't for the fact it was two-thirty in the morning. Dr. Cullen walks into the room, the impossibly handsome and youthful-looking doctor. He couldn't be more than forty, I was somewhat certain his children were between seventeen and nineteen. Regardless, the man looks like he just hit thirty. He sits down soundlessly on a chair across from Billy and I.

"Clinical relapse," Dr. Cullen says grimly. "I'm afraid the only option left is to give her a bone marrow transplant." He fidgets with his red tie.

"But you said those were dangerous." Billy interjects. The doctor looks down then back to us.

"They are, only fifty-percent of patients who receive BMTs survive, they'll either be cured or die from complications regarding chemo and radiation." Billy and I look at each other.

"Is there any other way?" I ask evenly. "I'm not going to put my daughter's life on the line for a half chance." Dr. Cullen looks from my husband to me, and then finally rests his eyes on mine.

"Mrs. Black," He starts. "If we don't try, your daughter will die." Silence.

As soon as Dr. Cullen leaves the room, Billy and I turn to look at one another again. The fear and tension between us begins to bubble.

"Rebecca," He says. "You said cord blood was all we would ever need from Elizabeth."

"You're asking for your daughter to die." I say angrily.

"But it's not fair for the other one." He says quietly.

…………

Elizabeth was only six at the time, and Billy and I had conveyed to her that she was helping her sister by giving her a gift.

"Okay! What gift?" She chirps.

"It's from inside you," I point to my belly. "So you'll be part of her forever." Billy smiles in encouragement and Elizabeth blinks in confusion, and then finally nods in agreement. Two days pass in normal fashion, but the knowledge between my husband and I was enough to rip the house from the foundation.

"Leah! It's time to go!" The day of the transplant had arrived, and the insurance company handled a portion of the fee while Billy's department had donated the rest.

"Just a minute." I hear her muffled voice from within her room. I knock on the door impatiently but she doesn't answer. Finally, I twist the knob and let myself into a room I don't recognize. The cleanliness is immaculate; I can't even spot a fleck of dust. Everything is in precise order, and I see Leah straightening out a pillow on her bed.

"I didn't ask you to do this, sweetie." I lean against the doorframe.

"I know," She says quietly. "It's if I don't come back."

…………

The anesthesiologist wipes a gauze pad over an oxygen mask. Elizabeth is sporting a hospital dress that is too large for her tiny body, and she's sitting upright on the medical gurney. She is covered in gel pads; these are used to monitor her heart and breathing when they draw bone marrow from her pelvic bone. My daughter plays with the hospital admittance bracelet on her right wrist, and Dr. Cullen approaches us after writing something down on a clipboard.

"Elizabeth," He soothes. "Have you ever fallen asleep on a bed of clouds?" She shakes her head in response and he gently places the oxygen mask over he face. "Can you breathe in deeply for me?" The doctor soothes and in a matter of minutes, her breathing is even and her grip on my hand slackens. I kiss her forehead, my medical mask being a barrier between our skin, and exit the room.

When the procedure is over, I briefly catch a glimpse of Dr. Cullen walking out with a clear bag of ruby red blood. My heart flutters and a sense of hope spreads from my fingertips to my toes.

I'm in Leah's room and she's reacting normally to the chemo – vomiting continuously within the hour. I hold the light green basin under her chin for the fifth time in thirty minutes when Billy walks into the room.

"Elizabeth is asking for you." I look down at my first daughter, who is hurling hydrochloric acid into the basin my hands are holding, and look at the door. I cannot be at two places in one time.

"I'm busy, Billy." I continue to hold the basin for Leah and my husband comes over to smooth her hair back.

"Elizabeth is asking for you." He repeats. After a moment too long, I nod and hand the basin to Billy. Leah's face is streaked with tears and she wipes her nose before she throws her head into the basin again. I find myself in Elizabeth's pediatric room, her crying her eyes out.

"Mommy," She wails. "Mommy it hurts." I sit down on the bed next to her.

"I know, sweetie. But Leah is sick, I have to go back."

"It hurts," She repeats. "Please stay, mommy," Her cries continue and I smooth her hair down. "I'm in the hospital now. I'm in the hospital!" I know. I want to say to her. I know, but you're not dying. A second later, Billy enters the room and sits down next to me.

"Elizabeth, you were so brave." He says softly. Then, he pulls out a locket and places it around her neck. A symbol of recognition for helping save her sister's life, it's obvious and simple, but frankly, it never crossed my mind. It was her obligation, not an honorable act of bravery.

Jacob POV

When I was eleven, my mom promised me that we would go out and buy new cleats – soccer tryouts were in two days. And then, the day she promised we'd go, Leah relapsed and my parents were in and out of the hospital. Mom, Dad, Elizabeth and I were home one evening with the missing piece still in the hospital.

"Mom," I start. "Can we get my soccer cleats now?" She looks at me, but she's not really looking at me. Her eyes are hollow and she's staring right through me.

"Now's not a good time, Jake." She sighs exasperated.

"But you promised!" I retort. She looks at me again with the same, hollow look.

"Ask your father." She responds robotically. I find my father in the living room, pretending to watch a Mariners game.

"Dad, can we go out and get cleats?" He mutes the game and slowly turns to me. I can see in his eyes that he sports the same, hollow look. He looks right through me as well but smiles apologetically.

"Sorry, son. Maybe some other day, right now isn't a very good time. Try mom tomorrow." I nod in comprehension and exit the room. The next day, I approach my mother after she just entered the house from a hospital visit.

"Mom, can we get some cleats now?" She just stares at me.

"No." She starts to walk into the kitchen and I follow.

"Why? You promised!" I shout angrily.

"I said no." She responds in the same robotic tone she used on me last night.

"You broke your promise. Why not!" I seethe. My mom turns around to face me.

"Why? Why? Because Leah is in critical condition and I can't be going out buying you cleats. Stop being so selfish, think about your family. Just stop it, Jacob." She screams through her teeth at me. It's silent for a moment in our kitchen.

"Why don't you stop being so selfish. You've been so busy tending to Leah all your life that you forgot you had other children. Elizabeth and I aren't dying, but we may as well be dead. We're invisible to you. You stop being selfish." I say in a low voice. Then, I walked away from her.

I ran away to downtown Seattle, and began to walk aimlessly around. I wanted to test how invisible I was, and as I walked along the sidewalks, passing a plethora of people, not one of them looked at me. They all stared straight ahead, making their way around me. I realized how invisible I am, and that night, I detached myself from my family.

…………

My room is actually on top of the garage, not part of the rest of the house. Ha, the ironic symbolism. My parents give me my privacy and I give them theirs. They understand I'm involved in incriminating activities, but they prefer to go on pretending like I don't. I'm lounging in my room, well what would have been a room if you could see the floor. A crock-pot, complete with a copper wire sprouting from the top, is sitting on my rickety television. I make my way over to it and dip a small amount of the concoction into a cup. I take a good swig and crumple the plastic cup, then drop it to the floor. The warm and fuzzy feeling spreads from my core to my limbs, spreading so slowly that I sigh in content. Ah, the affects of moonshine. Just then, I hear a car pull up in our driveway and I peer out my single window. I see Bella Swan, that really hot lawyer – or whatever she is, parking her vehicle. I make my way down the stairs, into the garage, and out the side door.

"Hey," I walk over to her. She's standing outside her car looking up at the house. "Did you miss me?" She laughs lightly at this.

"Believe it or not, I am here to speak to you," Imaginary violins begin to play and angels chorus in a glorious, a cappella song. "It's about Elizabeth, though." The violins screech to a stop and some of the angels throw out a string of profanities. Nonetheless, I lean against her car and cross my arms so my biceps flex. Then, I flash her a grin that's stopped quite a few girls in my time.

"What are you doing tonight?" She stares at me like I've spoken Chinese. Hell, she probably does know Chinese. And Greek and Italian and every goddamn concurrent and ancient language known to linguists and sociologists.

"Are you asking me on a date?" She raises an eyebrow. She crosses her arms which, holy Jesus, accentuates her chest.

"I'm sure as hell trying." I grin at her some more and there's amusement in her eyes.

"And you're sure as hell failing," She responds in a flat tone. "I'm old enough to be your mother, Jacob."

"Please," I coo. "Do call me Jake," She rolls her eyes. "How old are you? You can't be more than twenty-five. I'm legal age now, anyway." I waggle my eyebrows and she laughs.

"I'm one-hundred eight years old."

"You have amazing eyes," I say casually, flexing my biceps some more. By eyes I mean breasts. She takes this moment to button her blouse all the way up, causing me to laugh out loud. "Come on, let's go have our nice chat." I lead her up to my room and take note it's not as bad as usual. The dishes are only about three days old and the spilled cereal hasn't gone visibly stale yet. You can see a square foot of the floor, and the piles of clothes aren't mountains at the moment – more like hills. The spilled milk in the corner is only about a day old and the bucket of gas and a dirty rag are pushed up against the west wall – not sitting in the middle of the room.

"It should be in a furnishing magazine, right?" She crinkles her nose.

"It smells like a jock strap in here." I laugh out loud again.

"I try." She takes a seat on the couch, but there's a crunching sound as she lands on a handful of stale chips. She stands up and cranes her head so she can see the culprit, and turns around to brush off the broken chips. Good God, there was a grease stain imprinted on her sweet, sweet ass. She brushed it one last time and the angels started singing again. Then, she sits down once again and I head over to my fridge.

"Want a drink?" I pull out a beer and wave it.

"I'll pass, thanks." She looks around.

"Hey, you can't say my mother never taught me manners." I say as I pull out a beer for myself and crack it open. She smiles at this and shakes her head in humor. I make my way over to her and sit down – way too close. I did this on purpose. I take a swig of my beer and look at her.

"What's that?" She points, curious and concerned at my crock-pot.

"Moonshine. Want some?" She makes a face and then shakes her head.

"You may be juvenile, but you are brilliant."

"Hear, hear." I raise my beer and take another swig.

"So," She starts. "Do you get along with Leah and Elizabeth?" I shrug.

"Like any other sibling relationship, I guess."

"What was it like growing up in this family?" She looks at me. I don't answer her for a minute, and then I silently pull out my pack of cigarettes and light up.

"What was it like growing up in this family?" I repeat the question and exhale smoke. "There's a system," I continue in a sour tone. "Leah is The Martyr, Elizabeth is The Peacekeeper and I'm The Lost Cause," I take a drag of my puffer and exhale smoke through my nose. "When I was twelve, Leah relapsed again on Christmas Eve. Of course Leah couldn't help it, but Elizabeth had to go with them to the hospital because she was donating granulocytes. They dropped me off at some neighbor's house, and all night they looked and whispered about me like I was some goddamn charity case. I got sick of that crap so I snuck out and came back here," I pointed to the front yard. "I chopped down this little spruce tree and carried it inside. Then, I decorated it with ornaments and lights – the whole shebang," I exhale smoke again. "And when they came back, they found me here. My presents were discounted items from the hospital gift store. And," I press the butt of the cigarette against the couch and make a small hole in it. "They didn't say anything about the tree. That's what it was like growing up in this family." I look at her sourly.

"Is it the same for Elizabeth?" She asks softly.

"No. No, Elizabeth is part of the game plan. She's the key factor to Leah's battle."

"When do your parents decide when Elizabeth donates medically to Leah?" Bella Swan is scribbling some notes onto a legal bad.

"You ask like there's a choice." I laugh darkly. She stops writing to look up at me.

"Isn't there?" She inquires, confused. I ignore her, not out of discourtesy, but because it's a rhetorical question.

EPOV

Bella consumes my thoughts. Utterly and shamefully consumes every ounce of thoughts my brain can conjure. Last night, she pulled away from our kiss, causing me to feel irritated, perplexed and disappointed. She was right there, on my lips, our breaths mingling. I had pressed my body against hers but then she pulled her face away from mine.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled, not looking at me, and then she detangled herself from me. I unwillingly dropped my hands from her waist and scooted back a foot or two. Because I am a gentleman, I drove her home without a word, my heart breaking even more with every foot my car gained to her apartment. I returned home to my own and dreamt of Bella Swan. I woke up and sat there, thinking of the same woman. Why did she pull away? She had someone else. She didn't love me anymore. Of course. I deserved this; I had broken her heart. Goddamn karma. Something stirred in me and I suddenly didn't care anymore. I would win her back, no matter how long it would take me. She could be engaged for all I care, I would get her back.

One Month Later

Bella has been ignoring me for the past month. The pieces of my heart have been smashed into particles so small that you probably need a microscope to see them. Every time I attempted speaking to her, she either disregarded me or walked away. When we were forced to speak, concerning the trial, her responses would be curt and icy. I've decided I can't do this anymore, it's too emotionally deteriorating - but I won't lose this battle. The past eight years of my life have been vapid spans of time, and I repudiate any notion of spending the rest of it this way. Then, I do something spontaneous. I pick up my cell phone and hit the speed dial.

"Hello?" Alice sings into the phone.

"I need your help." I sigh. I can practically see her smile on the phone.

"I knew you'd ask someday."

…………

Fifteen minutes later, Alice and Jasper are sitting on my apartment sofa. My sister is perched delicately in her fiancé's lap, and this no longer bothers me. The past two months I've spent enough time with the both of them to know that they are in love and Jasper is a decent man with good intentions. I lean back lazily into the loveseat.

"I still can't believe he didn't get you a pink one." I muse, pointing to her two-carat canary yellow diamond engagement ring. It's very flashy, very Alice. My sister tinkles in laughter but Jasper interjects,

"After she said yes she punched me for getting her yellow." He jokes and the three of us laugh. Alice hops up from Jasper's lap, clasps her hands behind her back and paces back and forth between.

"Okay boys, we all know why we've assembled here today," I have to hold back a snort. "There's a mission that must be completed." Jasper points out,

"Alice, dear, you're sounding like my father." Jasper's father was a general in the Vietnam War, and hereditary militarism runs deep in his veins. Alice makes a face at him.

"Minus Rose, the people who know Bella best are all sitting in this room right now. You," She points to Jasper. "Have known her all her life. As for me, she's my non-biological sister. Last but no least, you," She now stops pacing to look me in the eye. "Know her better than anyone," She adds under her breath. "But you were too stupid to let her go and if you didn't we wouldn't have to go through this mess." I pretend I didn't hear her last comment.

"I don't know what to do." I groan and then bury my face in my hands. Alice flits over to me and starts to rub the muscles on my back, causing my shoulders to uncoil in tension.

"We'll fix this." She soothes.

"How? She doesn't love me anymore." I sigh into my hands again. Sam trots over and nudges my knee.

"Actually, Edward. She's very stubborn and we all know that. She could just be pretending she doesn't love you." Alice says.

"But she pulled away from me!" I'm considering bashing my head against the coffee table. Alice continues to assuage my back and my thoughts.

"Edward," Jasper sighs. "Stop being so full of angst it's making you tense. Just be calm and we'll figure out a rational solution for this," Alice stops rubbing my muscles and places her small hands delicately on my large shoulders. "We can always make her jealous." She mutters to more of herself than to me.

"That won't work," Jasper shakes his head. "She's very emotional about those kinds of things."

"You think everyone's emotional, Jazz," Alice sighs. He shrugs in response. "Why don't we just make you look dashing and put a sexy girl on your arm? It's a classic."

"I don't want to hurt Bella." I grumble. Alice sighs again and taps her foot against the floor.

"Why don't you just tell her how you feel, tough guy?" Alice says flatly.

"I… can't." I grumble. "It's complicated." She rolls her eyes and dances back over to Jasper, taking a seat in his lap.

"What if I convince her to go on a blind double date with Jasper and I and the person ends up being you?" I make a face at her.

"That sounds so pathetic, me cowering and then popping out with flowers. 'Hi, I'm your blind date.' She'd hit me." Alice's face clouds over, but then lights up and she gets excited.

"What if I set her up with an atrocious date, so bad that she'll quite possibly flee from the place? I have connections. Jasper and I can double date with her and then you," She points to me. "Can coincidentally be on a date in the very same restaurant with someone terribly beautiful but possess a vacuous mind."

"It could work." Jasper says simply and wraps his arms around Alice's waist.

"I'll get you a girl who doesn't know the difference between the digestive and immune systems. I work in this industry; very rarely do you find a model that can tell you the proper answer to 'five times nine'. I know this'll work." My sister stares at me in anticipation and I throw up my hands and shrug in defeat. She begins to sporadically clap and bounces up and down in Jasper's lap. Sam whines loudly and looks up at me.

"Yes, she's always like this." I mutter to him while I scratch his head.

…………

I find myself outside the apartment door of a girl I've never met before. I knock twice, and then take a step back. Sam looks up at me and I shrug. A moment later, a very tall - around five foot ten - girl opens the door. She has medium-length dirty blonde hair and grey eyes. Obviously a model, I take note of what she's wearing. She has on a zebra print mini tunic dress, resting high on the collarbone and the sleeves stopping three-fourths of the way down her arms. This would normally be acceptable attire except for the fact that her dress covers her rear-end by maybe two inches. (Check dress in profile) One blow from the wind and this girl wouldn't have a chance. Her lack of dress and high black pumps accentuate her model-esque legs, but I would absolutely annihilate Alice for setting me up with a borderline prostitute. Of course, she was very good-looking, but not even close to my type.

"Oh my gosh, hi." He eyes grow huge, and I internally sigh at this. This is the epitome of a reaction I receive from most women, and quite frankly, it's tiresome.

"Hello, I'd like to introduce myself. My name is Edward Cullen." I say and then smile politely at her. She doesn't respond for a moment, and stands there staring at me – stunned. Then, she snaps out of her trance.

"Hi, I'm Lauren Mallory," She shoots me a lovely smile, the type that would melt most men's hearts but it doesn't affect me. "Oh look! Puppy!" She croons. She holds her hand out to pet Sam but I intervene.

"I'm sorry, he's a service dog. They can't be pet." She pouts and crosses her arms.

"What do service dogs do? Do they like, say to you when to cross the road?" I hold back a laugh out of courtesy.

"No, they only tell deaf people that." The look on her face indicates she doesn't understand my joke.

"Oh. So, like, are you deaf?" This was going to be a long night.

…………

I arrive at New Moon, Mr. Whitlock Sr.'s restaurant, with Lauren and Sam in tow. Deeming that it's Saturday night, the venue is somewhat crowded but Alice set up reservations for me.

"Sorry, no dogs, sir." The teenage waiter eyes Sam.

"He's a service dog." I reply curtly.

"But you're not blind." He points out.

"I had no idea, thank you for the epiphany. I'm a vampire, the dog tells me when your blood starts to smell good." Lauren laughs for a little too long and I can feel a headache forming. The waiter, now uncomfortable, sits us down at a table. We order red wine and steak.

We're three tables away from Alice's table – perfect. As I get settled in my seat, I take note my sister is wearing a strapless, knee-length silhouette dress with some complicated and ridiculous pattern on it. (Check dress in profile) Her fiancé has a classic white button-up, and finally, I turn to Bella. She's wearing a strapless white and blue-layered mid-thigh cocktail dress, with a high-wasted cinched black belt and a matching pair of black oxford booties. (Check dress in profile) I need to seriously pay Rose for consistently dressing Bella to perfection. Her date is an absolute joke. His blonde, spiky hair makes him look like a silly, immature frat boy and his attire is nowhere near acceptable. His sloppy grey button-up is not tucked in, and is he wearing jeans? I snap about of my criticism, I realize ripping Bella's date to pieces will not win her back. I avert my attention back to Lauren.

"So, Lauren," I coo. "Do you model for Alice?" I take a sip of my wine and she blinks at me several times before composing herself.

"Yeah! I love Alice; she's like, so nice. It was so nice of her to set me up with you. I had no idea her brother was so handsome." She flashes me a smile and I politely smile back. Good grief, she's already trying to hit on me. We haven't even been sitting for three minutes.

"You look lovely yourself." I respond monotonously. Five minutes later, the conversation has been struggling. I cannot converse with this woman. I look up and try to dissect what's going on with Alice's table. Alice and Jasper are holding hands, laughing in unison about something. Her ring glints in the candlelight and I avert my gaze to Bella. She's staring at me, but when I catch her, she turns red and looks at her joke of a date. It's apparent she said something to him, but he boisterously downed his drink and guffawed. She has a puzzled expression on her face and moves her chair away from him. Fleetingly content I caught Bella staring at me; I am lifted into higher spirits.

"Edward, what's your job?" Lauren distracts me. She's looking at me with her fork lazily perched in her hand.

"I'm a lawyer." I sip my wine.

"That's like, so hot. My parents wanted me to go to law school." I almost spit out my drink because of the laugh that nearly escapes my throat. Unbelievable.

"I see," Trying to stay polite. "So when did you become a model?"

"After high school. I mean, I wasn't that smart –" That's apparent. "And I kind of got my way with my looks so like, I guess I made a profession out of it." I don't even bother to ask which college she attended. Just then, I got a text message from Alice.

'Bella hates her date, it's working. She's upset you're here but she keeps staring at you every second. I'll dig up more dirt later. xA' I snap my phone and look back up at Lauren. She's obviously peeved but I remedy this with a flash of my smile.

…………

As the dinner date is winding down, I pay the check and poor Lauren Mallory is melted clay in my hands. I need to get away from her – for the sake of my intellect. I already feel potentially less intelligent. I open the passenger door of my Volvo for Lauren to slide in. Sam hops in the backseat and I close both doors for them. Before I can walk around to the driver's side, Bella Swan storms up to me from out of the darkness.

"I didn't know you dated those kinds of girls, Edward." She seethes.

"Why do you care?" I asked evenly. She crosses her arms and looks away. "Did you have a nice date?" I ask, my voice dripping with venom.

"No." She mutters.

"And why is that?" I pursue.

"Because you were there to ruin it." She narrows her eyes. Lauren is staring at our silent conversation from the car window. I raise my eyebrows in innocence.

"Bella, I was on a date. How does that ruin your night?" She stumbles with her words, and rather than actually choosing a sentence she just huffs in stubbornness. We stand there staring at each other, and I remember how soft her lips were. Just one month ago her currently pouted mouth was on mine and my bones ached to have that happen again.

"Don't you want to go home with frat-boy?" I provoke in an amused tone. She glares at me.

"Oh, right. Why don't you go charm Ms. Hooker over there into bed?" I hold back a smile, amused.

"You know, I really do love when you're angry. It's like watching a kitten trying to be a tiger." She opens her mouth then glares at me again. I pretend to mouth a silent 'rawr' at her. This sets her off even more and she hits me in the chest with her purse.

"Why are you so angry, Bella? You made it apparent a month ago that we shouldn't pick up where we left off." I say coldly. She bites her lip and then stares at a car.

"I don't have a ride home," She finally says. "I told Mike I didn't want to go home with him." My heart beats a little faster. I cross my arms.

"I can give you one," I say evenly, trying to keep up with my façade. I open the door for her and she scoots in and takes a seat next to Sam. "Lauren, this is my colleague, Bella Swan. We're currently working on a trial together," I gesture to Bella in the backseat. "Bella, this is Lauren Mallory." I gesture to Lauren next to me. Both girls give one curt nod to the other and then look out the window. The car ride passes in awkward silence, and finally, we reach Lauren's apartment. I leave Bella in the car, and then walk Lauren to her door.

"Thanks for the date, it was so nice." She smiles. I smile in return.

"My pleasure." Then, she leans in to kiss me and I turn my head quickly so she nails my cheek. She pulls back, her eyes wide with surprise – obviously not used to rejection.

"I don't kiss on the first date." I shrug, pretending to be sheepish.

"Oh, okay," She composes herself. "Call me?"

"Sure." Not. I smile at her again and then walk back to my Volvo. When I get into the car, Bella is glaring at me.

"So, what'd you eat for dinner?" I ask nonchalantly, looking at her through the mirror while driving.

"The soup du jour. You?" She responds curtly.

"Steak. It was exquisite," She smiles slightly at this and then leans back into the cushion of the backseat. When we reach her apartment, I open her door for her. "Goodnight, Bella."

"Walk me?" This catches me by surprise and I'm staring at her.

"Okay." I hesitate. Her booties are clacking against the pavement and when we exit the elevator onto her floor, the air is still silent. We both stop outside of her door and she rummages through her purse for her door key. She extracts it and slings her purse onto her shoulder again. She puts the key in the lock, but before she turns the knob she looks at me dead in the eye.

"See you, Edward."

"Goodnight, Bella." And then she kisses me but pulls away and runs inside before I can react.


Thanks for reading! Again, thank you for the support guys it keeps me writing

Please review, it makes me happy and Edward will give you even more hugs!

kisses, JennyCullen44