Edward

I stand motionless in the dark. My heart in my ears, my hands on the door.

Eventually, I hear tires on gravel and I loosen my death grip on the doorknob, no longer at war with myself. No longer any threat of throwing the door open, pulling her from her car and begging her on my hands and knees to stay.

She has a life that doesn't include me. I have a life that means nothing without her.

I pull my phone from my pocket.

She picks up on the fourth ring.

"Hellooo?"

"Where is Bella going?"

"What?"

"Where. Is. She. Going?"

"What the hell, Edward? I was sleeping!"

"You should have told me."

"Should have told you about the girl that you haven't been with in how many years?"

"Cut the crap, Alice."

"You, cut the crap. You want to know so badly, ask her yourself."

"I can't."

There is an agitated sigh on the other end of the line. "You have to stop this, Edward. She doesn't need your permission to leave the country. She doesn't belong to you."

"She's leaving the country? By herself?"

"Edward, I'm hanging up now. Good night."

Damn it!

I throw my phone before I can think better of it. I hear the tell-tale crack, but I don't care if it's broken.

She doesn't belong to you.

I can't breathe.

I walk straight through the house and out the back door. I sit on the cold stone steps.

I gave her the third degree over something she claims is important. I can't recall ever hearing her say anything is important.

I made her cry.

I held her face in my hand.

She said she'd call me when she got back.

She said she'd tell me about it.

But words are cheap.

I've spent all this time trying to let her go and with the promise of one phone call, I'm hers again. It's this place. This town.

I hear the door open and close behind me and I wonder if he's been here the whole time.

He sits down next to me without a word.

'The next time you try something like that, Dad, I swear to God…"

"Please, Edward. Enough with the dramatics. We both know that you didn't want me there."

I glare at him even though he is right.

"I still can't believe you've been having dinner with her every year. For years now! And you never told me."

"You never asked."

"Maybe for once, you could be in my corner, instead of hers." Before the words even leave my mouth, I know that's not really what I want.

"It's not a contest, son. Besides, she needs me more than you do."

I don't know if that's true.

…

The entire town showed up for Charlie's funeral. Bella seemed surprised. Maybe she didn't see him clearly. Charlie was a man that meant something to this town. Everyone wanted the chance to say goodbye. His colleagues shared several decades' worth of stories from fishing trips, hunting expeditions, and tailgating parties. And everyone spoke about how Charlie Swan loved his daughter more than anything.

Watching Bella fall to pieces, watching her try to pick herself up only to see her crumble again. I've never felt so helpless, and yet I think I am the one who needs her. She's stronger than she knows. I am paralyzed by the fear of losing her.

She is beautiful even in her grief. She said she never cried before that day. She never cried, she never screamed or blamed or let herself feel any of it. The shock, the pain, the anger. They're all supposed to happen. They're stages of the grieving process. I googled it.

She sleeps in my bed ever night and I tell myself that if I hold on tight, it will be enough.

Chinese takeout in one hand, I knock tentatively on my dad's office door. The lights are dimmed, which is usually a sign that he should be avoided.

"Come in."

The door creaks open and I stand at the edge of the room waiting for him to finish what he's doing. He's hunched over his desk, working with only the light from his small desk lamp. I can't help but see Ebenezer Scrooge working by candlelight on Christmas Eve.

He clears his throat. "Is there something that you need, Edward?"

"Here's your change." He continues scribbling without responding. I reach my hand out to set the change on the end table by the door.

"Edward, I'd feel more comfortable if Bella slept in the guest room. Or with Alice. In fact, maybe it's time she goes back to her own house. She's a legal adult." He doesn't even look up from his paperwork as he says it. I feel his words in my gut, like a sucker punch. And I'm tired of being the dutiful son that abides by his every wish. He can go to hell.

"She can sleep where she wants to sleep." And now I have his full attention.

His eyes are fighting for composure. He points a finger at me. "Don't you take that tone with me. This is my house and I'm still your father."

"Oh, well that is certainly nice to hear." I'm feeling brave.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Narrowed eyes and tight lips.

"It means you haven't acted like my father since mom died. It means you have more than one child! It means you need to stop walking around like a ghost!" I throw the fistful of change across the room. The bills flutter silently through the air. The coins hit the wall with a smack and fall unceremoniously to the ground.

He is up from his desk and across the room in seconds. His hands are at my throat as he pushes me up against the wall. I gasp for breath. I can see the pulsing vein in his forehead and I almost hope he hits me. Just do it, you bastard.

Something flickers in his eyes. A flash. The realization of what he's doing. He drops his hands in horror, staring at them while he backs away from me like I'm holding a gun to his head. I take labored breaths, dropping myself to the hardwood.

"Edward…" he shakes his head in disbelief. Grief grips his voice. And I don't care.

"Edward, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't know how to be a father without her. She always knew what to say. She always knew and now… now I have nothing."

His rage is now my rage.

"You have nothing?" He holds his hands in front of his face. The tears barely contained. "No disrespect dad, but you have me. But I won't be here forever. I won't do it. I won't let you take her away from me."

"Edward, I only meant…"

"No, you listen! You either find a way to live without mom or you really will have nothing. Bella will sleep where she wants to sleep." I wait for the retaliation but it doesn't come.

He nods. Eyes closed, like he can't bear to look at me.

The doorbell rings. He doesn't even acknowledge it. I sneer at him, "Don't worry, I'll get it."

I open the front door to find Rosalie standing there. Never hit a girl. Never hit a girl. Never hit a girl.

"Hey, Edward." I stare at her without seeing her. I can't even find the composure to say hello.

"Alice is expecting me."

I sigh and step aside so that she can walk past me before I slam the door. She doesn't make a crack about me being a prick or an asshole or tell me to go fuck myself. She just gives me an uncharacteristically subdued smile and makes her way through the dark. I follow close behind her, unwilling to give her free reign of the house.

As we reach the stairs Rosalie freezes. Bella. She' sitting on the steps, staring into nothing. Rosalie looks uncomfortable for the first time in her entire life. She sets her perfectly manicured hand on Bella's shoulder. "I'm sorry about your dad."

Bella looks up at her and actually smiles. "Thank you." She stands and climbs the stairs without looking at me. I wonder how much she heard. She walks straight to her room, the one she doesn't sleep in, and closes the door behind her. I lead Rosalie to Alice's room.

"So, how is she doing?"

"Like you care."

"Oh, because I'm Rosalie Hale I can't have a heart? Is that it?" She looks genuinely offended.

"I didn't mean…"

"I care, okay? I care."

"Okay."

I wanted Alice to make an effort. I wanted her to make a friend. I know she only chose Rosalie to spite me in the beginning, but she seems to actually like her now. I can't begin to understand why, but I take it for what it is. She's trying. Sometimes that has to be enough.

After Rosalie has been safely delivered to Alice, I knock on Bella's door. I know she won't answer. I push the door open slowly, unsure if I'm ready for what is behind it.

She's stuffing her clothes into her duffle bag and I panic. I'm across the room and my hands are covering her hands, begging them to stop.

She turns to face me. "Edward, your dad is right. It's time for me to go back to my own house. My own life. I don't live here. I'm not a part of this family." She says it like it's something to be a part of.

"Bella, please. Please don't go."

"What am I going to do, stay here until we go off to college?"

I don't even want to think about going away to school right now. "Yes, that's exactly what you should do."

She shakes her head and closes her eyes. I reach my hand around her waist and she tenses. She sleeps in my bed at night, but this she can't handle. I feel her start to shake before I hear the sobs. She turns into me, burying her face. And I've never felt pain like this. Seeing her pain is worse than watching my dad become a shadow or watching Alice lose her way or even watching my mom slowly fade into nothing. And it's as if my dad's hands are still around my throat.

I can remember the quiver in my mom's voice as she held my hand. "You just know. When you find it, promise me you won't let it go." I promised.

I love her.

I love her.

And I promised not to let her go.

I run my hand down her back and hold her closer.

I brush the hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear, whispering into her, "Bella, what's wrong?"

"I just miss them." Her words startle me even though they shouldn't. She's grieving them both.

"Bella, I understand. I know what it's like to lose a parent."

She abruptly stops crying and goes rigid in my arms. She balls her little fists up against my chest and beats them against me.

"You know what it's like? You know what it's like? You spent every waking moment with your mom before she died, Edward. You had a lifetime of conversations with her. You don't have a fucking clue what it's like! So do me a favor and stop pretending like you understand. Just stop."

I take a step back.

She spins around, back to the bed, and all of her sadness has given way to anger. All of it directed at me. She stuffs the rest of her things into her bag and walks right past me.

I stand in the empty room in disbelief. Damn it! The thought of her sleeping in that empty house makes me sick.

At the time, watching my mom die seemed like the ultimate form of torture. But Bella is right. It made all the difference. My mom wasn't afraid to die. She was ready. It was the most difficult part and the best part. When I cried like a little girl, she told me, "Edward, I do not wish to live forever. I only wish to leave behind something that I am proud of. There is nothing in this life that I could ever be more proud of than my children." As she smiled at me and squeezed my hand, I knew that she had already let go. There was a sense of peace in her eyes that can only come from acceptance. Acceptance that she wasn't long for this world.

I walk down the stairs to the kitchen, fighting for composure when all I really want to do is punch a hole through the wall with each step.

I nearly trip over her bag on the bottom stair.

She didn't leave.

She's not gone.

I can see a flicker of light from the den and the sounds of whispered conversations lilting in and out over the sounds of the TV. I sit in the dark and listen.

Even though I can't see Bella, I can hear her and the sound of her voice lets me breathe again. "Alice, why don't you speak to your father?" I hold my breath.

"Because… because there's nothing to say. I just can't forgive him for what he did."

"What exactly did he do?"

"You know, I don't even remember it all anymore."

But I remember it.

They were both in denial. My father and Alice. They couldn't believe that she was dying. My father understood in the clinical sense of course, but that meant very little. He went to work every day, came home after dinner every night. Alice was the same. She kept herself busy. Impossibly busy. I begged her, pleaded with her, even tried bribing her to find the time to sit by mom's bedside. But she wouldn't do it.

So then when it happened, when she was really gone, Alice couldn't cope. She wouldn't leave her room. She wouldn't talk to anyone. She wouldn't eat. She was a skeleton. My dad had no choice but to have her hospitalized on an involuntary psychiatric hold.

She hasn't spoken one word to him since.

There is a choked sob. "He let her… he let her die."

I feel it in my chest. It takes everything I have to leave them be.

"He's a doctor. He's the best. He saves people. But he just let her die."

The floor creaks behind me. I turn to see my dad standing in the dark. His eyes meet mine and it's an apology. An apology for so many things. He takes a seat on the step beside me and we listen together.

"He's not a bad man, Alice."

"I know."

"And he's still here."

"And you're going home to an empty house. Bella… I'm so sorry. I guess I don't know what to say to him now. It's been so long."

"Maybe it doesn't matter what you say." Rosalie's voice. She's been so quiet I forgot she was even here. It's not like Rosalie to keep her trap shut.

My dad puts a hand on my shoulder and whispers to me, "She can stay as long as she likes, Edward."

I leave him sitting in the dark and climb the stairs to my even darker room. I crawl into bed with my clothes on, burying my face in her pillow. I won't let her go. I can't. But right now I'm too tired for all of it.

My dad's right. If my mom were here she'd know exactly what to say. She'd know how to make everything better.

I cover my face with my pillow, the one that smells like Bella. I hit the mattress with my fist.

"I don't know what to do, mom. I can't lose her."

I can see my mom's face, the way it looked before she was sick. I imagine her telling me that I won't lose Bella, that I could never lose her. That it would be impossible to lose her.

I hear the soft click of the door and then the bed shifts.

I pull the pillow off of my face to see her sitting there at the edge of the bed. Bella. Beautiful.

"Hi." Even in the dark her eyes are everything.

"Hi."

I lift the covers up. She curls herself into me without even a hesitation.

"Edward, I'm sorry." She pulls at my shirt with her little hands.

"Bella, please don't go." There's nothing else to say.

She stays.

…

I walk up the stairs with lead feet.

I push the door open to my old room and stare at the bed. I pull the blankets off and wrap them up into a messy ball around my pillow. I carry them outside into the night.

A once familiar walk that's no longer mine. Even the hundred-year-old trees are different.

When I finally see it in the distance, I stop. I stand in the open field until the inevitable rain starts and I'm forced to make a run for it.

Through the barn doors, up the ladder.

Some things stay the same.

I curl up on the floor by the little window.

This is when I know where my home is.

And I decide.

Just because I can't have all of it doesn't mean I can't have some of it.

I will tell my dad that I will take the job.

I will tell him that I'm sure.

Even though I'm not sure of anything anymore.

I will be her friend.

Even if that means seeing her only once a year.

I will eat beef stew every Mother's Day.

I won't ask her for more than she can give me.

She doesn't belong to me. Maybe she never did.

A/N:

Next chapter by Friday.

Thanks for hanging in there and for all of your support :)