Thanks for the feedback on the EPoV piece that is in the Team Losh compilation – there's still time to donate and receive it! See www . teamlosh . blogspot . com for details.

I'm also helping to organise and write for the Fandom 4 Heroes fundraiser:

Fandom 4 Heroes aims to help raise money and awareness for 2 charities. Help for Heroes and The Poppy Appeal. Info on each are:

H4H: Is a British charity which has supported those men and women wounded in the service for their country since 9/11 including building "homes from home" at Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Birmingham.

Poppy Appeal: Run by the Royal British Legion which provides welfare to servicemen and women, both current and those who have left the forces, and their families. The poppy appeal helps to raise money for the ex-Service community while the poppy has become the national symbol of remembrance of those who lost their lives serving their countries.

If there's anything in particular you'd like to see me write, from any of my fics or something completely new, let me know, because I'm still undecided!

Thanks to BeckyBrit and TwiWeasel for pushing me when I was struggling to get this chapter out for today's update. We moving on people…

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight.

Chapter 10

6 months later

"It's seems like such a waste of so many years of our lives," I say. I place the Decree of Dissolution down on the coffee table and glance up at him.

"And a waste of the rest of them," he says, gazing steadily into my eyes. I look down. I still don't know what it is, that makes it so difficult to look him in the eye after all this time. If I were to hazard a guess, I would say it's the fear that I'll weaken; I know I'll always love him, even if I can't forgive him for what he did to us. Taking him back isn't a risk I'll take, though.

"Edward…"

"I love—"

"Stop!" This is his latest thing, the declarations of love. I hate it; it tears right through me, down to the bone. "You have to stop saying that. It's not fair on either of us, and actually, the whole situation is your fault, so don't keep making me feel bad, ok?"

"I don't mean to make you feel bad, I just hate that you're throwing everything away. Throwing me away."

He's managed to flick my anger switch to 'on'. I stand up, grabbing the sheaf of papers from the table.

"Edward, these are the papers that say our marriage is officially over," I snap, waving them in his face. "I've been waiting more than three months for them to arrive. I saw a counsellor for eight weeks before that, despite knowing the whole time that this was what I needed. At what point are you going to accept it?"

He swallows and screws his eyes up tight, opening them again before he speaks.

"I don't know if I can."

I sit down beside him and take his hand in both of mine. He squeezes my fingers.

"You have to. Because nothing is going to change for me, and we're getting stuck in a stalemate. It's been almost seven months; we need to move on."

Even as I say the words, I feel conflicted. A large part of me does need to move on; I can't live like this forever. At the same time though, I can't deny I quite like the fact that Edward is clinging on to me. I haven't heard anything about him seeing other women up to now, and I'll admit, to myself at least, that I'm glad of that. Seeing him with somebody else is going to hurt like hell, and although I recognise this, I have no way to stop it happening.

"You want to move on?" he asks.

"I have to," I reply. That's as close to an answer as he's going to get from me.

"I need to ask something," he says. I look at him curiously. "You and Jake…"

I see where this is going.

"Just friends," I say. "We've only ever been friends, you know that."

"I just thought that maybe now…I mean, I know he always wanted more. And you're always with him now…"

"I'm making up for lost time," I say. It's an unabashed dig at the fact he stopped me seeing Jake during our marriage. Edward sees it for what it is, and narrows his eyes.

"He's dangerous to be around," he tells me. I take my hands away from his.

"Yeah, well, you've never liked him."

I'm not mentioning the fact that Jake nearly got into a nasty fight when I was out with him last week. Or that I didn't speak to him for five days after, because I was so mad at him.

Jake's the only guy I've spent any time with since Jasper's friend Garrett, months ago. That weekend was great, and it worked wonders for my confidence, but it didn't make me want to go out and pursue men. I guess I'd been expecting Edward to get straight back out there; it seemed a typical guy response, but Jasper had told me that he hadn't been near another woman.

The room is silent. I think about just asking him to leave, but there were too many times where one or other of us walked out on the conversation. Forced civility, we decided, should be our new M.O. I refuse to be the first to fail at it.

"Jasper said you haven't been able to find a house yet," I say. He laughs and leans back in his seat, raking his hand through his hair. It's longer than he ever used to let it get. I like it, although I'd never admit that to him.

"I haven't really looked," he admits to me. Our house sold quickly and I put my share straight into my new place as soon as it came through. My dad had been great about me staying back at his place, but we weren't used to living together any more. I know I irritated him as much as he did me.

Living alone is mostly great, but it sucks hairy donkey balls at times. I hate coming home to a dark house after an evening out, and I still can't get used to going to bed alone. I love waking up alone though; all that space in the bed and the house just as I left it the night before. The list of advantages stretches on, but I'm afraid too. Mostly that I'll grow too used to my own company and never want to let anybody in to share my life again.

"Why haven't you looked?" I ask. He shrugs.

"I don't really like the idea of living alone, I guess." he says.

I wonder if I've slipped into an alternate reality. This man looks like Edward Cullen, but he doesn't seem familiar at all. My husband was strong and confident, with a passion for life – albeit a life I only knew the half of. My ex-husband is unsure and unmotivated. His laissez faire attitude is beginning to concern me.

"Things have improved with your mom and dad then?" I knew things hadn't been good when he'd been back home for a while. He hasn't mentioned them recently though, so I assume everything's resolved itself. He snorts.

"Things are better when they leave me alone. My Dad's driving me insane. He's convinced that I'm depressed." He shakes his head in exasperation. I hadn't thought of it before, but now he's put it out there, I can see that it could be what's caused the changes in him. I think Carlisle's probably right.

"Edward, your dad's a doctor," I point out.

"Exactly! He spends his whole time looking for the abnormal; for problems. He's creating them where there aren't any."

I turn away and pull a face. He catches it.

"What?" he demands. I look at him. His eyes widen as he realize what I'm thinking, and then he throws his head back in exasperation. "Oh no. Not you as well." His head comes back up and he looks at me in disbelief. "You, Bella. You know me better than this."

"You're acting different, Edward. You're not yourself at all. Do you even feel like yourself?" I ask him.

"Of course I don't feel like myself," he spits back at me. "I've no idea who the hell I am anymore! I managed to turn into some cheating asshole without the balls to turn away some whore I didn't even really like and wound up divorced from the only woman I've ever loved. How the fuck does that make sense? Who would want to recognize any part of themselves in that person?"

I'm stunned. He's crying. I'm frozen. He can't keep from shaking, his head down in his hands.

Finally I'm able to move again. I move across the seat and wrap my arm around him, trying to offer some comfort. I don't know why I can't bear to see him suffer; I guess because I know what suffering feels like.

"Edward, I think you need to start listening to your dad. Whether you speak with him, or another doctor, you need to recognize that you need some help here." He raises his head and nods. "Promise me you will," I whisper.

"I promise."

"Did you hear about Angela?" Jake asks me. There's excitement in his voice and so the lurch that my stomach gives at the sound of her name, is overridden by the amusement his eagerness causes.

"Of course not," I say, giggling. "You're the only person who dares to speak her name in my presence." He laughs.

"Well, apparently she's been caught having a relationship with one of the offenders at the correctional facility." He sits back, a satisfied smile on his face at the shock on mine. Angela had been pretty settled when I first knew her. Her boyfriend, Ben, had left her a couple of months before she began her affair with Edward. It sounded as though she was intent now on moving from one car wreck of a relationship, to another.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"Ha! She showed up to beg Jared to take her back. Gave him this story of how shitty her life was. She lost her job over it and the guy doesn't want anything to do with her."

"I bet Jared was thrilled," I said, snorting. He'd ended his relationship with her as soon as he found out about her and Edward. According to Jake, he also gave her a lecture on how best friends should behave. She hadn't liked that, apparently, and had started yelling about how I had everything and it wasn't fair; that she just wanted a little of what I had. How ironic that all she had managed to do was to strip the happiness from all three of our lives.

"He called her a list of names that I won't even mention in front of a lady, and sent her away. She has no shame; she was literally begging him for another chance." I wish I'd been there to see it.

I look at him from the corner of my eye. He's in a good mood and I'm either going to take full advantage of it, or blow it apart.

"So…" I begin, ready to change the subject. "Did you think any more about those anger management classes?" I ask.

"Why are you asking me about that, now?" he yells, startling me. I jump about a foot in the air. He hoots loudly, and leans to one side, laughing. "I was just kidding," he tells me, between giggles.

"Holy shit, Jake!" I exclaim, clutching my hand over my heart. "You just about gave me a heart attack!"

"I decided to give them a go," he tells me, still smiling. "You're right, I am getting too old to be getting in trouble for fighting. I don't want to end up being hurt or getting arrested."

"I'm so proud of you," I tell him as I pull him into a tight hug. I mean it too; it can't be an easy thing for him to agree to; I know what a proud man he is.

"Thanks, Bells," he says, squeezing me back. "They start on Wednesday."

"Do you want me to come with you?" I ask him.

"To the sessions?" He looks wary.

"Of course not to the sessions. I'll come along to Port Angeles with you though, if you like?"

"You'd do that?" he asks.

"For you, I would," I tell him.

"That would actually be kind of great," he replies. I know that he lacks confidence in some situations, and this is exactly the kind of thing he hates. I'm surprised that he's even considered it, let alone gone ahead and organized it. I was telling him the truth when I said I was proud of him.

I look up at the paper I'm marking to glance at the clock on the wall behind the counter. It's only ten minutes until Jake's session finishes. I hope it's gone well; I'd really like him to stick with it and see the course through. It would definitely make his life a lot easier if he could learn to control his anger.

The door of the coffee shop opens, but I don't bother looking up, until I hear my name. Edward stands on the other side of the table.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" he asks, surprise evident in his voice. I consider how to answer. I go with facetious.

"It's a coffee shop, Edward. What do you think I'm doing here?" He looks wounded. I regret the way I answered him now, It was unnecessary. "Sorry," I say.

"It's ok. I meant in Port Angeles, you know; not in here specifically."

"Yeah, I know. What about you? What are you doing here?" I ask, passing the question back.

"I spoke to my dad, like you asked. I've just been to an appointment he arranged for me. He was right. It looks like I do have depression."

I feel for him, but at the same time I'm relieved he has a diagnosis. I was getting a little afraid of how far things would get before he woke up to the reality of what he was dealing with.

"I'm sorry," I tell him, and I genuinely am. "I'm glad it's been picked up though. You can start to get better now, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so. The doctor thinks from what I was telling him, that I've probably been suffering for around a year and a half." I cast my mind back. I think he's probably right. That's when he seemed to really start struggling to cope with his workload at the office. And then…yeah, the rest.

"It sounds plausible," I say.

"He said that depression can put a big strain on a relationship." That intense look again. I avert my eyes, I know this behavioral pattern and I can see where this is going.

"Yeah, so can affairs." I begin to pack my stuff away into my bag. Jake's coming to meet me here, but that's obviously not a good idea now. "Look, I have to go. I'm glad you got help. It was the right thing to do," I tell him.

"Stay and have a coffee with me?" he asks. He looks sad. I think back. He's looked this way a lot lately; I guess I was too caught up in my own sadness to really notice.

"I can't, I really do have to go."

"Cullen." Crap. I'm too late. Edward turns.

"Jacob Black, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I heard you and my wife were inseparable again." I stand in front of Edward, but he continues to look over my head, directly at Jake. The tension is so thick, it's making me feel queasy as my stomach flips.

"I'm not your wife, Edward. Not anymore," I remind him. He doesn't react.

I turn to Jake. This is just the kind of situation that he struggles to handle. If Edward starts with the bullshit, he'll lose it. It's what Jake does. He's staring back at Edward just as hard as Edward is staring at him. The difference is that Edward's stance reflects his mood lately. He doesn't care. Jake cares. A lot. He stands straight and tall, chest puffed out and hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, his fingers stretching and curling.

I hate this. It isn't the first time the two of them have stood before one another like this. Last time it got serious; police cars, ambulances and the promise I wouldn't see my best friend again. I don't want that. Not again. Not for either of them, and not for me.

I walk up to Jake.

"Goodbye, Edward," I turn and tell him, then I push hard against Jake, urging him out of the shop.

"What the hell was he here doing here?" Jake demands, still eyeballing Edward as I tug him along the street, past the large glass window.

"I didn't know he'd be here, he had an appointment somewhere." I stopped, abruptly. "And don't speak to me like that, ok? It wasn't my fault." I start walking again in the direction of Jake's car. He catches up to me, reaching for my arm to stop me.

"I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you, it's just…you know how he pisses me off."

"Well obviously your first session didn't teach you much," I say, teasing.

"Are you kidding me? I was going through everything I learned tonight, in my head. You don't think I could have possibly not attacked him on sight after everything he put you through, do you?"

I knew he was right. I'd been meticulous about making sure that Edward and Jake didn't run into one another when I was around, for that very reason. I guess it was bound to be only a matter of time before it happened.

"At least I'm the one you're leaving with this time," he says.

"You're loving this," I state. He wraps his arm around me as we walk.

"Yep. Better than any punch in that pretty face of his."

I turn to look back. Edward's standing on the sidewalk watching us.

Jake's exactly right; he couldn't look any more hurt if there was blood dripping from his nose.