A/N: I'm updating a day early here. If you want to know why, please read the A/N at the end. :)

And wow...so many strong emotions after the last chapter. Totally loved reading every single one of your thoughts.

Michelle Renker Rhodes helps me keep this straight.

Most characters belong to S. Meyer.

And the guy finally speaks...

Ch. 14 – Lessons My Father Taught Me

EPOV

Then: Twenty-one years ago - Edward Aged 10

The rain pounds down hard over my shoulders; cold drops that soak my hair before seeping under the collar of the crisp, suit jacket I've been given to wear today. They send a chill throughout my whole body, trickle down my back and then ooze on down my legs and feet. In the background, the Reverend's voice drones on and on - stupid, useless words that can barely be heard over the hammering rain. I think he thinks that he's magically comforting everyone here, but I'll bet that's not the case. So while he makes his dumb speech, I stare down at the muddied ground, at the bright green grass that looks super weird against the rest of the world around me today: against grey skies, dull black suits that match my father's and mine, black dresses that match Aunt Esme's, black umbrellas.

Black casket.

When the Reverend is finally done, my mother is slowly and carefully lowered into the hole that's been dug for her. The crowd of hundreds that's come to say goodbye to Elizabeth Anne Cullen walks in a straight line, sort of like they make us do in school. Each person drops a single, white rose into the hole in the ground. Some cry, some don't. Some walk over to tell my father and me how sorry they are, how their prayers are with us, how my mother is in a better place now; some just leave without even looking our way. I watch it all as if it's a scene from a movie – a movie I would've never watched anyway.

A warm, soothing hand skims my shoulder. I know it's not my father, and it can't be my mother, not anymore. When I raise my head, Aunt Esme is looking down at me, eyes full of sorrow. My younger cousin, Jasper, is at her side, crying like a little baby but he's only six so I guess it's okay. The problem is that his tears start making my own eyes water, and then my damn bottom lip starts trembling, and I know I've gotta get a grip because my father has already warned me; not here, not in front of others.

-"Don't ever let others read you, Edward, especially when you're hurting. The masses may sympathize with you for a while, but sympathy doesn't last. As soon as you let others read you, they'll find your weakness and exploit it." -

So I look away from Jasper and square my shoulders, pushing the sting back and composing my features into the unreadable mask my father has taught me to wear in public.

My Aunt Esme chokes on a sob before leaning down to my eye level. "Oh, Edward, honey. It's okay to cry today. It's okay."

-"You're a good boy, Edward, and someday you'll be a great man. Just always remember, my love, greatness can take many forms. I love you, Edward." -

I shake my head stoically while the tears roll down her cheeks, and then look off to the hole in the ground where my mother now rests…

…and walk away, shoulders squared and stiff – like my father has taught me.

OOOOOOOOOO

Then: Nine years ago - Edward Aged 22

I've met her a few times before, when the Senator has been over for dinner, maybe once when I went to D.C. with my father, possibly another time…I'm not really sure. She's pretty, I suppose; long, strawberry blonde hair down to her waist and big blue eyes; well-proportioned in the right places. The couple of times I've spoken to her she's sounded intelligent and well-informed. Harvard Law so yeah, I suppose she's also bright beyond simply attractive.

Yet she does absolutely shit for me.

But my father insists I should ask her out – that the attraction will soon follow.

-"It starts with attraction, Edward, but real feelings develop very slowly. They don't happen overnight. Besides, think of all the possibilities in that relationship..." -

OOOOOOOOOO

"It simply doesn't feel right," I shrug, leaning against the kitchen counter the night after Tanya's and my third date. I find it pretty fucking sad that my father has stayed up just to ask me how it went – but that's my father. "There's nothing there."

"Be patient, Edward. Your impatience and impulsivity are your weaknesses, and if you don't watch it, someday they'll get you in trouble. Learn to think with your head, because thinking with your heart or your groin will get you nowhere."

I snort because it's not like either my heart or my groin have ever seen much action, not when I have to watch every god damned move I make in case it comes back to bite me in the ass sometime in the future.

"Besides, there are more important things than love. There are the right connections, forging the right ties, and fostering relationships that will help you reach your long-term goals."

"Jesus, when the hell did even my love-life become a way to advance our goals?"

I run a frustrated hand through my hair while my father glares at me like I'm a total idiot.

"I'm not stupid, Dad. Yes, I see your point, especially when put in the context of the goals we've been discussing for the future. I see the advantages to the relationship, but this thing with Tanya just feels like a business transaction at this point," I scowl.

"It's not all about sunshine and roses, Edward. Sometimes you do need to consider the business side of it." He holds my gaze sternly. "Look, Senator Martin and I have had a few discussions about this and-"

"Are things that slow up on the Hill that you and he have to resort to discussing my romantic affairs?"

"Stop being a smart-ass. We weren't discussing your romantic affairs," he stresses. "We were discussing all the potential that can come from you and Tanya in the future. Edward, you're not a kid anymore. You're about to graduate college and now is the time to start taking responsibility for your future! The Cullen Legacy requires everyone to do his part, to serve his purpose, to-"

"I know the damned mantra, Dad. You've been shoving it down my throat for over a decade."

Though his outward features show absolutely no emotion, I can see the cracks in his calm exterior.

"Do you, Edward, because sometimes I wonder if you really want this? Don't you want all these goals, these possibilities we've spoken of over the past few years?"

I shut my eyes tightly and draw in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Yes, of course I do."

He studies me for a long minute. "Edward, you've been blessed in a way that no Cullen before you has been. Yes, we've had the name, we've had the potential and the ability to get the job done, but you've inherited your mother's charisma: her appeal, her ability to fascinate people simply by opening her mouth. At this point it's not even a choice, but your duty, your responsibility, Edward, to use those gifts wisely, to serve your country with those gifts. Sometimes we have to sacrifice for the greater good, and-"

"Yes, yes, yes." I cut him off with a wave of the hand and an irked huff. "I'm aware of my responsibilities to family and country, Dad. I'm aware of them every damned day of my life."

OOOOOOOOOO

"Edward…"

Aunt Esme wraps her arms around me when I stand to greet her. She wears the same exact expression my mom used to have when she was upset. Sometimes it hurts to see the similarities, but I school my features easily; it's instinctual at this point.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Aunt Esme, I've never been so sure of anything in my life."

"It's so dangerous over there, Edward. So many boys lost…"

I squeeze her shoulders reassuringly. "I'll be fine, Aunt Esme. I have to be or else who the hell will come back to fulfill the Cullen Legacy?"

She swats me playfully and I smirk, chuckling. But then she just watches me for a while, studying me. Her gaze makes me nervous because besides my mother, she's the only other person in the world who's ever been able to read me despite what mask I wear.

"Edward…you don't have to do this just to get away from your father, from Tanya, from all these ridiculous responsibilities that have been-"

"I'm not doing this just to get away from anything. Aunt Esme, I want to serve my country from more than just a comfortable oval office in the White House. There are thousands of men and women out there making the sacrifice for their country, why shouldn't I, especially if my goal is to lead this country someday. I want to help. I need to do my part."

She looks like she wants to argue but knows there's no point.

"Edward…" - she covers my cheek with her hand - "you know I love you like a son. I swore to your mom that I'd help take care of you, guide you; I just want your happiness. Your happiness and peace."

"I know you do, Aunt Esme," I grin crookedly.

"Don't give me that grin," she reproaches softly. "It may make every other female in this state swoon, but I can see right through it."

I smirk instead.

She sighs. "Edward, just promise me that you'll take care of yourself over there."

I pull her into a tight bear hug and she chuckles. When did she become so small in my arms?

"I will, Aunt Esme."

She pulls away and meets my gaze once more. "And Edward…remember that you don't need to run away to find real happiness and peace, okay? You just need to reach out for it."

I draw in a lungful of air. "I'll remember. I promise."

OOOOOOOOOO

Tanya and I have slept together a few times, but I don't want it to lead to that now. I've tried, God knows I've tried, and I do care for her at this point…but I'm leaving tomorrow and I want to make it clear to her exactly where we stand.

Or don't.

"Tanya…" - despite my efforts, her mouth doesn't let up from mine – "Tanya..." I sigh and try again, gripping her shoulders carefully yet firmly. She finally pulls back.

"Tanya, I want to finish talking."

She sighs and sits down over the edge of my bed, looking up at me through cool blue eyes. If only there was more warmth in those eyes...

"Edward, I understand what you're saying, I really do, but you're simply putting too much expectation on us – on this," she stresses, waving between the both of us.

"I don't think it's too much to expect that we feel more for each other than we do at this point, and if we don't, then to just…" I shrug and put my hand outs, palms up.

She chuckles indulgently. "Edward, I care about you. Don't you care about me?"

"You know I do, Tanya, but care isn't the same as love."

Her lips form a tight line.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be an asshole here, or to hurt you; I just want to be honest."

She smiles, though her lips are still tightly pressed together. "And I appreciate that. I really do. You're honest and caring, and those are just a couple of reasons why you'll be a great leader someday…but you also need to learn to be realistic, Edward."

"I think I am being realistic."

"No, you're not." She sighs. "This is about more than just you and me, Edward. I understand that. You need to understand that too. Daddy will be President in the next few years, that's a given, and he'll start taking this country in a new direction. You can learn so much from him, and then he can pass the torch on to you, and between your family and my own, we can do wonders for this country. Imagine all the possibilities…"

I stare at her, thinking about the things my father has said, the same things she's just said, and in their own way, they do make perfect sense. It would further both our families goals greatly.

"And you'd be okay with that, Tanya, with a marriage purely based on the benefits it would bring?"

She shakes her head. "It wouldn't be a marriage purely based on benefits. Edward, you and I do care for each other; that's a great start. The rest would come in time."

I exhale loudly and rake a hand through my hair.

She chuckles softly. "Look, just think about it, Edward. I really wish you weren't going away right now, but I do see the benefits to it. It'll look great on your record in the future. You see? You do know how to play the game."

I snort and nod slowly. "How could I not? I'm surrounded by the best of the best."

She chuckles. "Look, just promise me that you will think about it, okay?"

-"Let your heart be your guide, Edward."-

Did my mom really once say that to me, or was it simply the stupid imaginations of a naïve, young boy?

-"Think with your head, Edward, not with your heart or your groin." -

"I'll think about it, Tanya. I promise."

OOOOOOOOOO

Then: Six and one half years ago - Edward aged 24

The plane touches down at Heathrow at five forty-seven p.m. local time. My mind automatically makes the time adjustments: Kabul - nine seventeen p.m., New York - eleven forty-seven a.m. After three years in the service, these time computations come naturally, the times in places that matter, that affect my life. Six months ago, the time in London didn't matter one bit; there was no reason to account for it.

Now, London is all I think of.

By six ten p.m., we've finally de-boarded. Men, women, and children all walk off anxiously, eager to be home or on vacations. A few American servicemen in uniform strut off buoyantly, snickering with one another, probably making plans for a short reprieve from the realities of their current lives – realities I know of only too well. A flashback hits me from six months ago…de-boarding a similar airplane with McCarty, James, Rivers, Michaels.

James is dead now, took a bullet in the chest from an enemy insurgent; dumb asshole wasn't wearing his vest. McCarty has a year to go on his tour of duty. Rivers' tour was up a few months ago, but there's been no word from him since he left. Michaels still has a while to go. And I'm…I'm...

I'm counting down minutes, seconds before I can explain everything to her, hoping she can forgive me, and praying that she hasn't completely given up on me…on us. Because there was an us.

There is an us.

In the back of the black cab that races through the dark evening, I close my eyes, moving my mouth around the words that have been my companion for the past six months - words and pleas and mantras that were once foreign but have now become as familiar as those I was raised with.

"I'm so sorry. It was a mistake. Please forgive me. Please. It was a stupid moment of doubt, of indecision. If I could turn back time, I'd know exactly which way to choose…"

But I can't go backwards. All I can do is hope that this new mantra is enough.

I clutch my dog tags; they're around my neck out of habit more than need now. The heat seeping from them into my fingers is the only thing I have left of her -

Of my Bella.

OOOOOOOOOO

A night out in London with the guys – a night of drinking and joking to relieve some of the stress we were all under. Days and nights of having a virtual fucking 'X' painted across your chest, of sleeping with one eye open, of knowing the next minute, the next second could very likely be your last was enough to drive anyone half-crazy. Originally, I'd just planned to spend the seventy-two hour leave in Kabul, but then James suggested we hop a plane to somewhere, and Rivers suggested London…and a couple of handfuls of hours later, we were in a small, hole-in-the-wall pub in some unknown part of London, so shitty and lacking in creativity that it was named for the bridge it lay under, for fuck's sake. But it was good enough; loud music and cheep beer that could help us all pretend we wouldn't be heading back to hell in a few hours…

… and where I could pretend that every path open to me didn't lead to another form of hell.

She brought over the first round: long, dark hair and equally dark eyes. Warm eyes that went perfectly with warm, creamy skin. Petite. Nervous, I could tell; probably new at the job. Wouldn't look at anyone directly, just simply grinned in our general direction – a sweet, friendly grin despite the obvious jitters.

By the second round, I stopped paying attention to the cheap beer.

When she brought over the third round, she glanced my way for a split second, so miniscule that I don't even think she noticed me – yet the most spine-tingling heat suddenly rushed my entire body.

When she brought over the fifth round, she almost dropped the tray. I reached out to help her steady it - to force her eyes to mine.

And then I touched her hand.

"Cullen caught another one," James joked, as if I ever paid any mind to the girls who crossed our paths anyway. And it wasn't because our jobs didn't exactly throw us in the path of many females, but because I had a legacy to fulfill, goals to reach…

Tanya was back home and I knew what was expected of me, the announcement my father was planning on my making once my tour of duty was over. I'd accepted it. Tanya was smart, beautiful, and yes, her father was Aro Martin. I supposed Carlisle was right; it would work well - in every way.

But now, this weekend was my time. So fucking what if the headline might someday read 'President Cullen Got Plastered One Night While in the Service.'

Clinton smoked pot in college and got an intern to blow him under the desk in the oval office; Nixon tried to cover up Watergate; Jackson married a woman who was married to someone else, and Cleveland fathered an illegitimate child.

There were worse scandals than getting drunk.

I'm still not sure why I waited for her outside the pub. I hadn't even been aware that's what I'd been doing. Inexplicably restless, I'd sent Emmett back to the hotel with James and the rest of the guys after James' moronic display, and promised to meet up with them later. Then I just…hung around…

…until she stepped out – the beauty with the creamy skin and warm eyes. The restlessness disappeared, morphed into anxiousness - an inexplicable pull. She took off by herself towards the park over the bridge. It was raining and dark and what the hell was she doing walking the park alone in those conditions?

I only meant to make sure she was okay.

I only meant to talk to her for a short while – she had the most fascinating accent - to walk around the park...

I couldn't help reaching out for her hand, and the thing is, she let me take it. Sweet and shy and obviously apprehensive, but she seemed to…trust me almost instinctively…

I didn't intend to kiss her, but when her hand met mine…when her soft body landed on my lap…when my mouth tasted her mouth…

We walked and talked, and the hours passed, and I wasn't ready to give her up. Selfish? Maybe, because yes damn it, all the while I knew of everyone's expectations - my father's, Tanya's, Senator Martin's, the entire damn world's.

But then she looked up at me, her eyes confused yet full of that trust…

Why did she trust me so much? Why did I trust her? Why could I speak to her about things I'd never spoken to anyone about before?

You don't just give anyone your trust – my father taught me that.

I accepted her trust; more than that, I craved it. Somehow, in her eyes, I saw a different reflection from the one that had greeted me every damned day for the past twenty-two years of my life. There was an innocence in that reflection that I'd never seen; never felt. There was hope. There was the possibility for more than what had always been expected of me.

In her eyes, I saw the reflection of the man I wanted to be: I saw the reflection of my mother's son.

By the next morning, I knew I could never give her up.

Yet the fucking expectations were still there. I'd been groomed to play a specific role, to take responsibility for not just a family, but for an entire country. I'd accepted that responsibility. I'd looked forward to it.

But Bella was my purity, my innocence, my humility; a side of me I'd never known existed. Yes, I still wanted those responsibilities, but I'd accept them with Bella by my side.

When I made love to her, when I heard her sweet moans and gentle exclamations of my name, and felt her all-consuming warmth, I knew I'd never make love to anyone else again. How could someone open themselves to you so completely, in every possible way; share their purity and innocence with you, trust you with so much? Bella had done just that, and what more could I ever ask for, ever need? So I accepted her gift gratefully.

I accepted it over and over again.

And I lied to her too.

I hadn't told her about Tanya, and so I'd already tainted our relationship with lies, and like the politician I'd been groomed to become, I was waiting until the last minute to come clean. To tell her that I'd allowed my father to not only control my public life, but my private one as well. That Tanya and I had begun dating right before I left for the service, but it had been made very clear to me by my father that he expected our courtship to result in marriage. This was the way my family operated, and I hadn't known any better until meeting her.

I had excuse after excuse planned, ending it all with the assurance that I'd fallen in love with her, and if she could forgive me, I wanted to bring her back to the States with me; get to the top with her by my side – even if it did take longer, even if I did have to struggle.

She'd forgive me.

I could see it in her face every time she looked at me: that purity, that innocence, that trust. Yes, I felt like a huge asshole for doing things backwards with her because she deserved better; she deserved the world at her feet, but she'd forgive my past and the way I'd kept it from her, the way I'd lied to her, the way I'd taken her innocence with those lies. She'd put it behind us because she felt what I felt. I knew that. No, I didn't deserve her, I knew that too. I was arrogant and self-serving, but she'd teach me how to be good, how to be the man she deserved, how to be the man my mother had tried to mold me into. Like my Aunt Esme once said, I was reaching out for happiness. It was in my grasp.

So I ignored my father's insults, his assurances that I was ruining everything, that I was forsaking the Cullen Legacy. Then, I simply ignored his phone calls.

Because I had it all figured out.

Until with one phone call, I didn't.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Edward, this is Senator Martin. I'm calling to let you know that I've issued a statement announcing your engagement to my daughter."

My heart stopped. "What? How is that even possible? Senator, I'm sorry, but your daughter and I never came to any actual agreement."

"Edward," the Senator sighed, "Edward, I spoke to your father late last night. He told me you've been having…issues. I think this will work well for everyone involved, as well as help to clear your mind."

I sat there, stunned, before Tanya came on the line.

"Edward, did Daddy tell you the news?"

She sounded so…dispassionate, so cool and clinical, and I realized that this was my entire world. This lack of passion, of reality, was what I came from. What had made me think that I could actually reach out for happiness? It wasn't that easy. Not for me.

This was my world.

"Tanya, I never proposed to you."

She was silent for a few seconds. "Edward, do you remember when you made me a promise?"

"I promised you I'd think about it!" I hissed. "I never-"

"You made me promises that I've been counting on! You have responsibilities to me and to your family, and to the country, Edward! Can you imagine the scandal if you were to disregard those now?"

I closed my eyes and swallowed thickly, my father's constant mantra circling in my head.

The Cullen Legacy requires everyone to do his part, to serve his purpose, to avoid scandal and disgrace at all costs…

"Tanya, I've…I've met someone…someone real…"

More silence, and then she sighed. "Edward, you're off in the service, under so much stress. Of course I understand. You've met some girl willing to keep you warm for a few days, but it's not real, Edward," she insisted. "This, what you have waiting for you here in New York and D.C, the future you have at your disposal, that's what's real. The political future we'll have together, that's real."

I yanked at my hair. "Tanya…Tanya, I can't. I'm sorry."

And then the Senator came back on the line. "Edward, what seems to be the issue?"

"Senator…Sir...I apologize, but you and my father should not have announced that engagement without discussing it with me first."

He sighed into the phone. "Perhaps we shouldn't have, but it's done now, and you know these things can't be undone easily."

"I can't-"

"Edward, listen to me for a second. I want you to think for a moment. I know you're a very responsible young man. Your father and I have had many discussions on this - how well you understand the meaning of responsibility not just to yourself or to another individual, but to a legacy, to a country, Edward. This isn't just about what you may want or think at the moment that you want. You have a greater responsibility than that! Think of how this country needs you, needs us, Edward!"

He paused, and with his silence, I felt my chest constricting, my choices fading...

"Look at the hands this country is in right now; look at the direction we're being led! We won't survive the decade under the current leadership, much less the century, young man. The proper leadership must be put in place, and you are part of that leadership! Would you sacrifice an entire country, an entire world for one…weekend?"

"Is that a threat, Sir?" I hissed, though I knew the answer.

"No, Edward. I'm not threatening you," he replied, his voice sounding simply tired. "I would never threaten you. I'm simply telling you how it is. If you can't show true responsibility, then I can't, in good conscience, ever back you in the future."

With that, Senator Aro Martin all but extinguished the only dream I'd ever had, the one I'd been preparing for my entire life, the only thing I'd been taught mattered.

And then the line went dead.

And Bella walked out of the bathroom.

And my mind was in total chaos, and…

-"Don't ever let others read you, Edward, especially when you're hurting..." -

And somehow - I'm not even sure how… I lost. Everything.

I lost her.

OOOOOOOOOO

Now six months later, I stand out in the rain, duffel thrown over my shoulder while drops pelt against my cap and bounce off of my boots as I stare at the small, hole-in-the-wall bar; the place where I found my heart – only to turn around and break hers.

My chest expands and contracts, heart beating as erratically as it ever did while in combat. No, unlike those in Afghanistan, I won't die if I fail at this mission.

But I'm not sure how I'll survive it.

OOOOOOOOOO

My heart chokes off my throat as I walk in, leaving it as dry as during those long days and nights spent fighting combatants; dismantling explosives. My anxious eyes immediately search the old, darkened, mostly-empty space for the petite girl with dark hair and warm skin, and eyes that have both haunted me and kept me going for six long months.

It takes me four seconds to determine that she's not out here, but I recognize the blonde behind the bar.

With measured, even steps I walk over, drawing in a deep breath to regulate my breathing, the way my father taught me to do, so that my voice doesn't tremble, so that I appear calm and composed.

She looks up as she sees me approaching and narrows her eyes, cocking her head to the side.

"May I please speak with Bella?"

Her eyes widen, nostrils flare slightly.

"Bella isn't here. Who's looking for her?"

"Rosalie, right?"

"Yeah," she nods tightly.

"I'm Edward. Edward Cullen."

I'm not sure what I'm expecting, but she simply holds my gaze stonily for a few seconds before cocking her head to the other side.

"What do you want?"

"I want to see Bella."

"Bella doesn't work here anymore."

I exhale through narrowed lips. "Can you tell me where I can find her?"

She sneers. "No, I can't."

My jaw clenches. "Look, I know she's probably…upset at me-"

"Upset at you?" she cuts me off with a snort. "Edward Cullen, you say? Yeah," she grins, "I remember the name. No, Love, Bella's not upset at you."

A cool smile rounds out her face while her words and expression send a chill down my spine. She looks back down and resumes cleaning the bar.

I take another deep breath, quietly - just as my father taught me.

"Can you please let me know where to find Bella?"

Rosalie sighs, and looks up once more. "I wouldn't know where exactly to find her, Love. She's off in Liverpool somewhere, that's about all I know."

"Liverpool?"

"Yeah, with Tyler, her boyfriend."

"That's not true."

She looks back up at me and smirks. "'Course it's true. Why in the world would I lie?"

I glare at her. "Where. Is. Bella?"

Her grin is salacious. "Come back for another go, have you? She'll be disappointed to know she's missed you, Love. Taught her a whole lot, you did. I'm sure Tyler's grateful right now," she chuckles.

"Can I have her phone number?"

"Now why in the world would I give you her phone number?" she smiles. "You're practically a stranger! Spent what? A weekend was it with her? And Tyler's a bloody jealous git too, wouldn't like Bella getting calls from strange blokes, I'll tell you that much."

My heart pounds wildly in my chest. I search her eyes, looking for the lie, but she grins coolly at me. Hands shake at my sides. I grind them into fists to hide their quaking – just as my father taught me.

"If all of that is true, give me her phone number. I'll just give her a quick call and if she doesn't want to speak to me, she can hang right up."

"Sorry, Love, but how can I in good conscience give some bloke, who's a total stranger, Bella's number?"

"I'm not a total stranger," I hiss through clenched teeth.

"A coupla good shags doesn't exactly make you her soul mate now, does it?"

"Just her phone number. Please."

"Sorry, I can't. Tyler would kill me."

She's lying.

-"Have you ever been in love, Bella?" -

-"'I thought I was a few months back. I was dating this guy, Tyler, but then he left for Liverpool…" -

She's fucking lying.

"Tell me where Bella is, give me her phone number, or at least tell me her full name."

"Wait, you don't even know her full name?" She chuckles and leans into the counter. "Now if she never gave you her full name, don't you think there was a reason for that?"

Pain lances through my chest - like a bullet without the armor. Her smile is amused, as if she's just greatly enjoyed saying those words.

"There was…" my chest heaves erratically. I'm not sure how much longer I can keep up the façade of calmness – "…there was a misunderstanding. I need to clear it up."

She cocks her head sideways again, studying my face.

Instinctively, my mask goes up – my inner armor.

"A misunderstanding…what exactly was the misunderstanding?"

"It's personal."

She continues studying me, her eyes narrowing into slits…

-"Don't let them read you…" –

Finally, Rosalie nods slowly. "Yeah…yeah, come to think of it, I do think I remember her being quite cheesed off when she got home after that weekend." She smirks. "But I really doubt she's got any interest in rehashing it, so don't worry about it, Love."

I can't think straight. My brain spins around; all the focusing techniques I've been taught by my father and the military are quickly becoming useless.

I lean into the counter coolly. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me how to find Bella. I'll wait around this bar for the rest of the night if I have to."

She holds my gaze, looking into one eye and then the other, and then shrugs.

"Suit yourself. It's a slow night."

OOOOOOOOOO

I follow her home, her and the dark-haired girl.

-"Rose and Leah and I share a flat to cut down expenses…" -

They walk quickly and quietly. I follow them stealthily up the steps to their third floor walk-up. I listen for Bella, but hear nothing.

The next morning, I'm outside as Rosalie and Leah emerge from the building. Bella isn't with them. I wait around…

That afternoon, I show up at the bar again.

"Just let me speak to her. You can dial the number and hand me the phone."

"Edward," Rosalie purses her lips. "I spoke to her last night and told her I'd seen you. She said she has no interest in speaking to you."

"That's not true," I hiss. "She wants to see me; I know she does."

Rosalie snorts and shakes her head.

I walk over to Leah, who's filling a couple of mugs.

"You're Leah."

She looks at me warily. "Yes."

"Tell me where I can find Bella. Please."

The answer comes quick and automatic. "She's living with her boyfriend, Tyler, up in Liverpool."

"That's a lie," I say through clenched teeth.

"No, it's not," Rosalie answers firmly. "Bella's moved on. There's no reason for you to hang about here.

"Let me speak to her. Let her tell me that herself."

"She doesn't want me to give you her contact information. She doesn't want to see you, Edward. Look, you both had your fun, but she's simply not interested in a repeat."

My nostrils flare. "I don't believe you. You're lying."

"Believe what you want. If you have nothing better to do than wait round, that's fine. You can continue waiting 'til you grow bored again, but she's not showing up. She doesn't work here anymore. She doesn't live in London anymore," Rosalie stresses. "She's gone. She's with Tyler and she's happy, and that's all there is to it."

OOOOOOOOOO

After four days, I call Jasper.

"Edward, thank God! Your father's going crazy! Senator Martin is ready to-"

"Jasper, I need you to do me a big favor, between us. I need you to find me someone who knows how to find people."

OOOOOOOOOO

Jasper calls me back a couple of hours later.

"I found someone. Edward…when are you coming home? Senator Martin and your father-"

"I don't give a fuck about the Senator and my father. Give me the number."

OOOOOOOOOO

I return to the pub one more time – a week later, after Jenks has told me that it's useless; you can't find someone with so little information, especially when she apparently doesn't want to be found.

She's moved on – with Tyler. We had our fun, and she's moved on.

Rosalie holds my gaze warily as I approach her.

"Just…just tell her that I'm sorry; that I never meant to lie to her, or to hurt her. Tell her that I…that I…"

My eyes sting so badly I'm not sure I'll be able to hold the tears back this time.

'Don't ever let others read you, Edward, especially when you're hurting..."

I turn around and walk out, shoulders squared and stiff, head held high – just like my father taught me.

A/N: Thoughts?

So, the zombie apocalypse prophet's little sister is doing her First Communion this weekend, so it'll be another hectic one. Hope you enjoyed the early update. :)

Twitter: PattyRosa817

Link to 'Stories by Pattyrose' is on my profile page.

And next week...well, yeah...stay tuned babes...