A/N: I do not own Twilight.

Thank you to my team, A Jasper For Me and HMPObsessed. You guys are the best! =D

Any mistakes here are all mine.

Sorry for the delay. RL was, and is still, kicking my ass. lol

Hope this chapter will somehow make it up to you my lovely readers. Enjoy!

Chapter 14 – Hellos and goodbyes

Bella

My nerves were on a high wire. I intentionally brought the painting today, knowing Edward's housekeeper would be here. He used Carmen during the day to prepare his meals and do his house chores for him. Tuesdays and Thursdays were Edward's days of going into his office to check with his small team of five people. If anything, Edward was a creature of habit, and I expected him to be out.

The familiar doorman on duty allowed me entrance, making me think this would be an easy and quick visit to his apartment.

I should have known being apart for eighteen months would entail changes to people, but stupidly, I didn't. That was why I was shocked to see Edward opening the door of his apartment.

I gulped, momentarily confused as what to do. I had never expected, even for a second, he would be home. It was not in my plan for him to be home. Jesus!

I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Jacob. Something he said made me make this decision. I wasn't here because I wanted to get together with Edward. I just wanted to drop off something important…the painting. It was something I had promised him I would finish for him, but never got the chance to do because of what had happened.

I had finally gotten around to make the finishing touches yesterday, and he was the first one I thought of. However much I wanted this picture of his meadow I had painted, I couldn't keep it. Not to mention, it would also be something that would be a constant reminder of him, and that I couldn't have.

Making this trip was necessary to me. If I had known, however, there was a chance he would be here, I would have postponed.

But here I was in front of him, in this place where we had spent most of our time together. He had a house in one of the upscale neighborhoods, but chose to stay here during the weekdays. Technically, we never moved-in together, but it felt like it. I was here almost the same amount of time as he was.

From where I was standing, the place looked nothing like it was before I left. But who was I to judge? It was his place to decorate however he wanted.

I pushed away all the memories that crept up so unexpectedly. These thoughts annoyed me.

I was annoyed and agitated, making this whole awkward situation more difficult than it already was. My palms were sweaty, and I could feel my throat dry.

I hadn't said a word yet, just stood there stupidly outside his door, deciding on what to say. I was holding the big wrapped-up painting in my hands, and all I wanted was to hand it to him and run.

I was about to do just that when he opened the door a little more in an invitation. I looked at him tentatively, scared to go inside. Entering his apartment might lead to some kind of misunderstanding as to why I was really here.

Why didn't I think about this plan better?

Looking at Edward all scruffy and handsome was one perk out of all this madness, though. Edward smiled, and I felt my heart ramp up another notch.

Finally deciding there wasn't much choice, I stepped inside the big, spacious apartment, suddenly assaulted by the onslaught of memories. I tried not to panic, trying to some control of the emotions threatening to engulf me.

Just then, my cell phone started ringing. I ignored it, wanting to drop off my package quickly so I could go. Answering the call would mean another couple of minutes longer inside this room.

I could feel Edward's eyes on me as I looked for a place to put the painting. The tension was so thick, I could barely breathe. Ignoring it was also the best option.

My phone was still ringing, and it was making me more agitated. The insistent trilling sound against the silence was maddening. Shit!

The painting wasn't big, but it was hard to multi-task with it in my hands. I fumbled with it, and was finally able to set it down on the floor. I took out the phone from inside my jeans' pocket to cancel the call.

I was huffing as if I had run a mile long marathon. It seemed cancelling a call and putting down artwork was too much of a task for me.

There were a lot of things going through my mind at this very moment, but one thing I was certain of was I needed to have this conversation with him so I could finally go back to the safety of my own home. I took a long deep breath, hoping I would get this right.

Edward was staring at me with those piercing green eyes. It felt as if he was baring my soul with just one look, and it unnerved me.

"Ahmm…I'm sorry to drop in like this, but I had to give this to you." I looked down at the medium-sized canvas, hoping he immediately knew what was hidden behind the brown-colored paper wrapper.

"Is this what I think it is?" His eyes were suddenly full of emotion, and I was certain he knew what painting it was.

And now that he knew, I was suddenly afraid he wouldn't want it. I needed to get out of here.

"I don't want to bother you, so I'll just go."

"Please don't," he gasped. I raised my eyes to him, and saw he was pleading with me; to stay maybe, I wasn't sure. I didn't move, hoping to indulge him a bit.

He walked to where I placed the painting and slowly unwrapped the brown paper covering the piece of art.

I held my breath the whole time he was peeling back the paper.

I was scared to see his reaction…afraid to disappoint.

He loved that place, and I hoped I did it justice.

"Oh, God, please don't let him hate it," I thought.

The emotions reflecting from his eyes were all the assurance I needed.

He loved it, and I felt satisfied.

"You like it?" I couldn't help but ask. He nodded before his gaze returned to the painting of the meadow he so loved.

I smiled, my heart content at the expression of awe on his face.

I stayed quiet; just staring at him move his gaze from me to the painting and back again.

The ringing of my phone disrupted the moment of meaningful silence between us. The sound cut through the quietness of the whole room, startling both of us. I was kind of embarrassed by the way we were interrupted, and I was determined to chastise the caller for having done just that.

I didn't even have the chance to say hello before the voice of Jasper crackled through the speaker.

"Isabella, where are you?" His voice was so loud I could hear him even when I took the speaker away from my ear.

"I've been waiting for over half an hour for you! Did you forget we need to go to the W?"

"Oh, shit! Yes, I'll be there. See you in ten." I hung up the phone and looked apologetically to Edward. Somehow I felt relieved to escape this momentary spontaneity, which I could classify as insanity on my part.

"I…I have to go, Edward." I could see the disappointment on his face. I moved towards the door, and he followed.

"When can I see you?" I heard him say, and I felt the air whooshed out of me in surprise.

He was a stubborn man. I should have known better than to expect him to listen to my warning that he shouldn't come near me.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"You said we could be friends. Friends can go out, right?" He was staring at me, his eyes boring a hole through me with the intensity reflecting in them. "I want to take you out sometime…as friends, of course."

"Why are you doing this?"

"You know why."

"Edward, that's really not a good idea."

"You said that already."

"Because that's the truth! We already had this conversation before. I thought you understood my definition of friends," I argued. He had an eyebrow raised, and I knew he was challenging me. "I wanted us to be civil around each other and not bicker. I never meant to insinuate I wanted to have lunches and dinners together to reminisce about the past, or about a future. That's not happening, Edward, and you know it."

"Please." He looked so vulnerable, and I wanted nothing but to make it all right. I just didn't know how.

The sound of my phone saved me from giving him an answer.

"Jasper and I will be going to Lake Shore Drive. I really have to go, Edward."

At the mention of the place, Edward frowned. He didn't say anything though, just slid his hands inside the pockets of his pants, looking forlorn.

"Thank you," he said meekly. I knew my visit was something of a surprise to him, but it was anything but unwanted. Of that, I was sure.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Why are we here again?" I asked, scanning the room full of covered furniture. I scratched my nose of the itch the smell of dust caused.

I was fifteen when I saw this place last. After all these years, thirteen to be exact, I still couldn't be comfortable even staying inside it for just a minute. Too many memories I thought had been buried resurfaced when I saw the wrought iron gates of our old home. It's called the Whitlock Mansion, but Jasper and I just call it W.

The renovations were underway, and I could hear the distant sound of hammering. We fully intend to sell off the house after it was restored to its old glory. Jasper didn't see the need to keep it any longer. I had long wished to dispose of the house, but respected the wishes of my brother.

"I need you to see for sure you won't be regretting us selling this place," he said. This argument of his has gotten old.

"Me? Or maybe you're talking about yourself, dear brother. You know this place means more to you than it does to me."

I had been a teenager when I left this place to live with Jasper in one of our parent's upscale apartments. This mansion was too large for just the two of us after my mother died, not to mention the unwanted memories of both parents and their untimely death haunting us.

"Oh, shut up, Bella. Just go check to see if you see something you want to keep." Jasper walked over some boxes already packed on one side of the living room.

I doubted I would have left something here I wanted to keep.

The renovations hadn't started inside the house, so the interior design from thirteen years ago remained untouched. The whole living room looked the same from what I remembered.

The long staircase looked shorter though, and I chuckled. I touched the now paint-chipped banister, remembering the time when I made it my purpose to make good use of it. My mother hated when I used the stairs for sliding, and often found me doing just the opposite of what she demanded me not to do. I was a brat then. My defiance of my mother's authority came from knowing I was Daddy's favorite girl.

I was one spoiled little rich girl. Another time, I would have taken pride in that term, but not anymore.

Shaking my head, I refused to indulge in memories that were no longer significant. They were no longer important, or so I insisted to myself.

"Hey, Bella, wait up." Alice was beside me in a second, out of breath from climbing the stairs so quickly.

I lock my arm against hers as we continued the trek up the remaining steps. Alice had been my friend for a decade now. I had met her when I changed schools after my mother died. She was what I needed in a girlfriend, and had been a confidante ever since. She was always the bubblier of the two of us, but not everyone knew that. She is fierce and loyal, and has a lot of spunk not everybody could relate to. She also has this uncanny ability not to let things get her down. I love her the most because of this. No matter how bad the situation, she could always see something positive out of it.

We were both walking and giggling as we made our way to second floor of the house. The hallway was darker because there was no window to filter sunlight in. I tagged Alice, intending to visit my old room when I saw the big picture of my parents nestled in one corner of the hall.

I had forgotten it was there.

It was mesmerizing, enchantingly so, all I could do was stare at the faces I had missed so much.

All purpose of rummaging through my old stuff left me. The only thing important right now was to take in the features of my long-dead parents I thought I had forgotten, and bask in them.

Oh, Daddy, I miss you so much!

I felt somebody tugging my hand, but I stayed where I stood. The pull was stronger now, and I pulled my gaze away from the picture.

It was Alice, and she had a look of concern on her face. It was then I realized I was crying. I touched my wet cheeks and gave Alice a smile, reassuring her.

"It never was your fault what happened to them, Bella."

"Wasn't it?"

"Both Jasper and I know that. You have got to start believing that, too."

I just gave her a sad smile. It was easy for her to say. She wasn't the one who's life changed drastically when her father died or who was burdened by the constant nagging of her mother that she might have had something to do with her father dying. She wasn't the one who was repeatedly called upon as a spoiled brat who didn't think about anyone else but herself. And she wasn't the one who had found her mother dead after she had thrown a tantrum of epic proportions just because she could.

Even though they had told me my mother's death was an accident, it still wouldn't register in my conscience. If I wasn't giving her a hard time, she wouldn't have drank the oxycodone, an alternative oral medication for morphine, with a large quantity of alcohol that night. They had insisted the drug she induced was due to the pain the cancer gripping her body caused, which I only knew about after her death.

But even so, I felt guilty. I was to blame because I was a selfish brat, and they were dead because of me.

"Are you okay, Sweetie?"

"I'm alright, Ali," I whispered and laced my fingers between hers. "Let's go check out my room."

"Okay, let's," I heard her say, and I sighed. This was the reason I didn't come here all those years before.

This house reminded me of something I had lost and would never have again, and something much, much more.

Thank you for reading. =D

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