CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A.N : So so sorry for such a late reply.. it's surprisingly difficult to get chapters written without Microsoft Word on your laptop any more...

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F.Y.I : The story is best read in the ½ page width setting.

EPOV

I was sat in the same chair as my mother used to sit in when she read us stories at night. It was an old rocking chair that didn't rock any more in what was now Alice's second room in our childhood home. Speaking of Alice, she was standing in front of me. She was talking about something... I cant remember what. My mind kept running back to Bella; her voice dripping with disappointment on the phone, and how she hung up so fast last night. The only thing that gave me the littlest glimmer of hope was that she'd said she loved me too right before the line went dead.

I hadn't called her back yet. I was going to; but I wanted her to have some time before she talked to me again. Maybe not be so angry and upset. I knew it was a pointless move, because she'd eventually hate me. I knew she would with what I was planning to do.

Alice was waving her hand in front of my face now. Shit.

"I'm sorry, what?" I raised my head.

She stared back blankly, "Are you freaking kidding me? Edward Anthony Cullen, have you not heard a word I've said in the last 20 minutes?"

Her face was beginning to purple with rage, so I racked my brain trying to think of a few words she'd said that I'd picked up.

"Clothes... Hair?" I tried.

She didn't speak. That's how I knew I'd given the wrong answer. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"I'm talking about Dad's birthday, Ed-Ass."

Oh, how I'd missed that nickname of hers.

"I think we should do something for him. Not a big party or anything, I know he'd hate that; but just a small family dinner. You know, I'll cook and we can have a cake. We can surprise him when he comes home from work, because I know he wont take the day off."

"Yeah that's a nice idea, Al. I'll get the cake if you like," I sat up.

"Yes, thank you. Make yourself useful with the one job you can just about do," she mumbled to herself as she continued to fold clothes.

A few seconds of silence passed.

"Alice?"

"What are you going to ask me about Bella?" she dead panned.

I paused, "Al, stop – it's so creepy when you do that!" She had this sixth sense sometimes of knowing exactly what I was going to do or say. "How the hell did you know that?"

"Because Edward, you've been moping about for the last week and today you've said about 5 words in total." She sat on the end of the bed facing me. "What did you talk about with Dad the other day?"

Damn it, I knew she'd been snooping. "Nothing, it was private."

"You know I'm gonna find out. Don't be sneaky, you're shit at it. Besides, maybe I can help," she added, gently.

I sighed, "You know full well what it was about, I don't need to tell you."

"Yeah I do..." She looked down, "I didn't think you'd go to these lengths-"

"Alice, I love her."

"I know, but I thought it was just like teenage love, you know. Not like love-love."

"Alice you have no idea how much I miss her now she's gone." I paused, "She was the best thing that ever came into my life. For a while it was perfect – everything was perfect. She was my best friend, my worst weakness and hottest girlfriend I'd ever had all rolled into one. And then I found out what she was hiding and everything fell apart but there was at least the fact she was with me, and I could take care of her and that's all I wanted do to. But now she's gone back to England and I have no idea – not the slightest clue what I can do for her!" My voice and risen as I spoke and I could feel my eyes blurring. I took a deep breath. "Now this is the only thing I can think of, and I swear, nothing's going to stop me from doing it for her."

"Good."

My head shot up to look at her. "Really?"

"Yes." She looked straight at me, serious. "It's exactly what I'd do for Jasper. And if you love her like you say you love her; this proves it."

"Yeah..." I looked down to the floor again, "Problem is, it's harder than I thought it would be."

"What is?"

"What I have to do; to make it happen," I sighed again, it felt like the dread wouldn't leave me. Alice looked at me, waiting expectantly.

"I have to break up with her; no contact. Leave her completely."

BPOV

My home tutor wasn't really working out for me.

It was so frustrating to be stuck at home all day, everyday and then having to endure 2 full hours (without a break) of Mrs. McPherson's monotone voice droning on and on and on about molecular cells and geometry and Darwin's great mind. I never knew that one old lady could know so much about so much.

The only subject she taught me that kept me interested was English and Literature. We studied Shakespeare's work and read through most of his plays, discussing each scene and she would occasionally set me homework tasks of writing my own scenes.

I didn't like that as much as just actually writing stuff down. It was surprisingly therapeutic to just write and let the pen roll across the page as I thought alongside it.

I took to keeping a journal for myself. I wrote down every night all the things I thought to myself during the day that I couldn't say aloud to my tutor or my parents, things that would make them upset or mad or would have just been plain rude. Some nights when Edward was at practice or the connection was awful and we wouldn't get to talk, I would write down all the things I would have said to him. And the best thing about writing it down was that I could also tell him all the things I couldn't tell him too. Like how much I missed him to the point where it hurt sometimes. And how the other day when I was in the department store with my mother and I went over to the perfume counter and found the cologne he wore and sprayed it on myself just so it would feel like he was there with me.

Embarrassing things like that, that I would never ever have the courage to actually tell him.

But today was one of those days where anything and everything was getting to me and I couldn't stand it for much longer. I politely (but firmly) asked Mrs. McPherson if we could cut today's lesson short as 'I wasn't feeling all too well.' It seemed as though she had a fear of these words because she quickly looked incredibly concerned and didn't hesitate to pack up her things and wish that I'd feel better by tomorrow and off she went. When my mother asked why she'd left so early, I just told her that she was the one that didn't feel all too well and she told me to pass on her apologies. It was only a little white lie... no harm done.

Wanting some fresh air and to just get out of the half packed – half unlived in house, I pulled on my boots and set off walking towards the gardens with my notebook with me. I automatically ended up in the same garden I used to sit in almost two years ago when I would sneak out of the house at night to come and watch the stars. I didn't know exactly what I was looking for then. Now it felt a little different.

I in no way wanted to be a sad little cancer patient character who would make wishes on the stars every night and hope and pretend that everything would be okay. I had pretty much accepted the outcome that I might not (probably not) see next year, so much so that I think I'd become a little numb to the idea. At first the thought of it would fill me with dread and fear, and I would feel breathless like another panic attack was rising. But now all I felt was numb. Thinking about it didn't have any effect on me. I wasn't quite sure whether it was a defence mechanism or that I genuinely just didn't care any more.

Except that I did care about one thing. I cared that I would never see Edward again. Everyday I would see something that reminded me of him and I would write it down in my journal. Looking up at the sun setting now in the gardens I remembered when we were at the baseball grounds one night and he was trying to show me how they throw a curve ball. I tried and miserably failed, but I didn't remember a time where I'd laughed as much as I did that night.

"Are you serious? You're not even trying!" he shouted.

"I am! How else can I prove to you that I truly and honestly cannot throw a curve-ball, Edward?" I pleaded with him all the while not being able to wipe the permanent smile from my face.

He picked up the ball and sprinted back, slowing as he neared me, "I think you're pretending."

"Edward, people try and perfect this trick for years right? I can not possibly be expected to do it perfectly in one evening of trying! Its just impossible," I said matter of factly.

He smiled. But I knew him well enough by now that I could see it was a sad smile; he just tried to hide it.

"Nothing's impossible Bella."

I paused for a second. What was he trying to say? Suddenly the playful, light atmosphere got much heavier and and the smile faded from my face. Sometimes it was so easy to forget what loomed over my head all the time and when it was remembered again it hit me twice as hard.

"Yes, a lot of things are impossible," I whispered.

He didn't say a word and just looked at me. It was one of those looks where at moments like this, my OCD side would want to take a picture just so I could mull over it later and try to figure out what it was that he was thinking. This time it looked like he was making a really hard decision; like he was trying to talk himself into it.

Screw it, I thought.

"What are you thinking so hard about?"

He broke his gaze instantly and looked down as he took my hands. Without looking back at me, he said so gently, "Just how amazing you are. And beautiful. And smart. And how I'd do anything for you," he looked up into my eyes again, "You know that right?"

I felt as though he was trying to say something else. I was hesitant because something told me that acknowledging this would mean I was agreeing to something I didn't have a clue about. But looking into his green eyes it was hard to think of double or hidden meanings in his words. All I could I think was how my chest felt when he looked at me that way; how it felt as though someone was pulling invisible strings in there in all directions and I was excited and scared and I had butterflies in my stomach all at the same time. I thought briefly about how it was astonishing how one person could make me feel this way all in just a second, but also at the same time finding it impossible to imagine any other person even coming close to having this effect on me.

I was writing all of this down furiously, trying to keep up with all the memories flowing through my mind when I heard voices and laughter coming through the gates. It sounded like a family coming to sit at the garden and since I was at the only table available, I began to gather my things and leave so they could take it.

"Bella?"

I whipped my head around and saw the last person on earth that I would have expected to see here.

"Jacob?"

His booming laughter filled the garden and he walked over to me arms outstretched, "Hey! I can't believe you're here!"

"I c-can't believe you're here-e" I choked through his bear hug. He released me and looked at me as if he still didn't believe I was actually standing in front of him.

I laughed, "Jacob! I'm from here, remember?! You're the one thousands of miles away from home, why are you so surprised?"

"I just didn't think I'd see you again, it's a shock! Are you back visiting for summer?"

"Ahh.. no. I'm back for good. I couldn't stay in Florida any more."

He smirked, "What? Beaches too sunny for you oh, Pale One?"

"Ha, no not exactly," I looked down.

"Why are you back then? Do something illegal?"

"No."

"Bad hook up? Couldn't stand the embarrassment?"

"No."

"You get expelled?"

"No!"

"More than one bad hook up?!"

I knew he was joking around but he was starting to get on my nerves. I knew I'd regret this later, but I didn't care. It was pretty much out of the bag anyway.

"No, I have cancer."

He stopped short. A smile started a form on his lips as he looked at me carefully, trying to figure out whether or not I was joking.

"You yankin' my chain?" His accent and deep voice pulled at my heart.

"No."

I kept my face straight and cool as I watched his drain of all emotion. I could see him trying to come with words but failing and it was difficult to watch.

"Jacob I don't want to ruin your night with your friends or family.. I'm gonna go. It was nice to see you again." I back up a few steps and went to grab my bag from the floor when I felt a strong hand pull my arm back and suddenly I was surrounded by Jacob. He hugged me forcefully but I could breathe this time.

Jacobs hug was really intimate and I tensed up a little bit. He lingered as his hands rested gently around my waist. I felt a little uncomfortable like it wasn't just a friendly hug and other feelings were trying to come through it.

But then I suddenly thought, 'What if he's just being a good friend?' I realized then that I'd never really had a good friend to hug me when I'd shared bad news. Nobody besides Edward had ever sat down with me and had a heart to heart, or discussed things with me that were difficult to talk about. Maybe my brain just connected this with Edward's hugs and smells and kisses and anybody else showing friendly remorse didn't feel right because it wasn't him.

I relaxed a little then and hugged Jacob back. Maybe it would be nice to have another friend.