Thanks to Cullenfan524 for being with me since the beginning. Thank you to all the other people who have reviewed and have this story on alert.

Thank you to robots will cry for being my beta. I bugged her bad about this chapter and she was gracious as always putting up with my crap.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Myers owns Twilight and all of the characters. But this story and plot are mine.

It's never enough to say I'm sorry

It's never enough to say I care

But I'm caught between what you wanted from me

And knowing that if I give that to you

I might just disappear

Nobody wins when everyone's losing

Not Meant To Be ~ Theory of a Deadman

Chapter 14: Not Meant To Be

~Bella~

There is something about the ocean that soothes you, calms you as you watch the water slip in and out with the tide. The sound of the waves hitting the shore lulls you into tranquility, drowning out everything else. You gain some sort of peace while you are watching the sunlight bounce off the water as everything shimmers with light around you.

This time had made me see that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. It wasn't what you were thinking. This wasn't like when someone almost dies, and upon waking, they claim they dreamed of a white light beckoning them to the other side. No, this was me coming out of the dark. Slowly it was fading from the deep black of night to the soft glow of first morning's light.

It had been so long since I had let my feelings come to the surface. For far too long, I had kept everything bottled up inside, buried deep so they wouldn't ripple out and try to penetrate my carefully constructed shield. The darkness that I had let surround my heart was slipping away, allowing small cracks of light to penetrate, filling my heart with warmth again.

Since we had arrived here, I've spent most of my time sitting here just like this, under the huge beach umbrella, allowing the ocean and its power to take me over. Seeing nothing but water for miles ahead, the enormity and force of it, you realize just how small you are in this world and that there are bigger things out there than just you.

Sometimes Renee and I talked, other times we just sat here enjoying the heat of the sun warming our skin. We had driven down, taking our time, not rushing as most do. Most people didn't like to drive so far, but I didn't mind so much. Being able to see the scenery up close and not being cramped in a plane with so many other people made it that much more appealing to me.

The modest beach house Renee had chosen was perfect for what we wanted. We had our own pool and hot tub that overlooked the ocean with a dock nearby that Charlie enjoyed fishing from. The beach wasn't filled with tourists like it would have been had we stayed at one of the resorts or condominiums, so it was nice to have it mostly to ourselves, other than the people who were staying at the beach houses that lined the beach close to ours.

Being with Charlie and Renee like this made me realize how much I had missed them. The guilt of shutting my parents out started to be overridden by the pain of the time I had missed with them. We were never the touchy-feely people that most families are, but we still loved each other. Even though emotionally, I had shut them out, I always knew that they would be there for me.

Opening my heart back up to my mother was more healing than I ever expected it to be. Letting go was easier than I thought. Once it started coming out, I didn't think the words or the tears were ever going to stop. Eventually they did slow down, but never ceased completely. Little things would remind me, triggering a memory, causing them to flow again, but it became a little easier.

The cracks in my heart were slowly beginning to heal, making the pain almost bearable at times. My heart still hurt, feeling shattered like a piece of glass when you drop it and all the little shards were hard to pick up, and I knew without a doubt I could never put it together again.

Hopefully one day it would mend, but I didn't fool myself in believing that it would ever be whole again.

Breathing became easier as the tightness in my chest had lessened. The pressure at times had been almost unbearable from crying and sobbing. No longer did I feel the need to rip my throat open just so I could breathe. Just like everything else, it became easier as the days passed.

The time away had given me time to think and made me realize some hard truths about myself. My conversations with Renee forced me to see a different side of things. No one was to blame for the paths that I had chosen but myself. It was my choices that led me to where I was today and I couldn't point my finger at anyone but me.

I had chosen to become friends with Charlotte and Edward. Even though Renee encouraged me to have a friendship with them, not only to help them see a better way, but also to possibly help me open up, it wasn't her fault. She never dreamed that things would end up the way they did, and neither did I.

Which lead me to another conclusion; just as my choices were the ones I had made, and no one else was to blame, the choices that Charlotte and Edward had made were their own. Only they were guilty for their choices. The fact that they used drugs and alcohol, even though everyone that cared about them, including me, wanted them to stop, it was their choice not to.

Knowing all of that never completely eased my guilt. My brain still worked overtime thinking of interventions and confrontations that might have made a difference. But in my heart, I knew that nothing I could have done would have made a difference. They were both too far broken to want or to even accept help.

And it was very hard to get my heart to reconcile with my brain the fact that it still felt like it was my fault that I could never get them to stop using drugs. It never left my mind.

And in my own way, I had an addiction too. I may have not been addicted to drugs, but I was addicted to them. Wanting to be with them, spend time with them anyway that I could was as unhealthy for me as it was for them to do drugs. Being with them eased the insecurities I had of my own, so in my own way, I was using them as much as they used me. We were basically enabling each other.

I may not have been addicted to drugs, but my addiction to them was no different. The shy person that I was used their openness so that I could live my life through them. I had never had any friends before them. My shyness and insecurities kept me from opening up to anybody. The actual thought of trying to make friends with someone made me sick with nerves.

But just like anyone else, I was desperate to have someone to relate to and that could relate to me. Some sort of connection with someone other than my family. So when Edward, then Charlotte, came into my life, I was able to do something I had never done before.

To just be.

To hang out and listen to music and read, and not worry about how someone felt about me, or worry if they were judging me by the things I did or the way I acted. They didn't judge me because I dressed in ratty jeans and t-shirts or Converse shoes.

They didn't care that my dad was a police officer, or that my mom was nothing short of a hippie.

They didn't care that I liked to read Jane Austen, and would even sometimes listen to me read, even though I would blush with embarrassment when they watched me. They didn't care that I liked listening to Green Day or Pearl Jam, or all the other types of music that I liked to listen too.

They just didn't care, and they accepted me for me and that was beyond wonderful.

I guess that was what made it even harder when Edward was gone. Charlotte was gone too, and even though we were communicating some through the mail, I had no one to be with. Those first days after all that happened, they were the hardest. I had no one to talk to, or hang out with. Resolving to myself to shut away my feelings and my heart, I buried myself in my studies, because truthfully, I was so lonely.

I missed Edward so much after he left. He was not only my friend, but the boy who I fell in love with. God only knows why I loved him, a child's fantasy, or a little girl's dream of falling in love with the brooding, sad prince. I did fall in love with him though. Irrevocably, and apparently unconditionally, I fell in love with him.

The fact that I fell in love with Edward was not his fault. I had felt an undeniable pull to him, this inexplicable need to be close to him in any way that I could when I had started watching him, and then it became stronger as we hung out together. Even though I knew deep down that the drugs were bad and the drinking was bad, I still wanted to be around him. Every time I looked at him, I was lost in his sad eyes, drowning me in his sorrows. I wanted to make things better for him. I wanted to be his friend. I wanted to help him. I wanted to love him. It was all true, but it wasn't his fault that I felt the way I did.

Of course my decision to tell Edward was another choice of my own that was just wrong in so many ways. My reasoning for telling Edward was blurred by the car surfing incident, otherwise I probably would have kept that secret to myself. I had already decided not to tell him, but I got it in my head that if he thought someone cared for him, that he wouldn't do the things he did to himself. I felt compelled to let him know that I loved him so he wouldn't feel so unwanted.

It was selfish on my part, knowing that he didn't feel the same way for me. I should have never told him how I felt. I didn't have to open up to Edward the way I did. I didn't have to pour my heart out to him, confessing my love for him. It was completely obvious that he had feelings for Charlotte. I knew by the way he looked at her, the way I could see his body react or the way he hung on her every word. He was totally and utterly captivated by her and everything she did. That alone should have kept me quiet, but it didn't, and I regret to this day for telling him. I pushed him away. And wondering how things would have been if I hadn't, constantly nagged at me.

So many things could have possibly been different if all of us had made different choices. But there was no way to know now.

Even after all my reasoning and reassessing of ever thing that had happened, my guilt for Charlotte's death still lingered in my soul. I had finally come to terms with her death. It didn't make it any easier, but I knew that I wasn't the reason that she was using drugs or drinking. I knew that I didn't give her the drugs. I knew that no matter how things turned out, it was ultimately not my fault. But my broken heart didn't see it that way. And maybe it wasn't exactly guilt that I was living with, but maybe it was the sorrow and anguish of a life so easily lost when it didn't have to be.

A shadow crossed over me, blocking the sun, making the bright red that I could see through my closed eyelids turn a soft shade of pink. Opening my eyes, I could see my father standing over me with a smile on his face. But when I looked closer, I could still see the worry creasing the sides of his eyes and a furrow between his brows.

"Hey, kiddo," Charlie said almost awkwardly. Things between Charlie and I weren't to the point that Renee and I had gotten to yet, but things were getting easier between us. The only problem that Charlie and I couldn't resolve was Edward, his presence at the funeral and the fact that I agreed to talk to him. In a nut shell, Charlie hated Edward.

"Hi, Dad." Even though things were still not back to the way they were for us all those years ago, as close to they ever were before, considering that Charlie and I are so much alike in the way we are closed off people, I had started calling him Dad. Charlie seemed so impersonal to me.

"You about ready for lunch?" Charlie asked pleasantly.

"Is it fish again?" I joked, smirking up at him. Since we had been here, we had eaten fish almost everyday. Charlie had thoroughly enjoyed himself fishing, even taking a deep sea fishing tour a couple of times.

"Ha! Very funny," Charlie chuckled at my lame excuse of a joke. "Actually, your mother is cooking spaghetti."

"Is it safe?" I whispered in response.

This time he threw his head back and laughed loudly, reminding me of happier times. "All she has to do is fry the meat, then pour the jar of sauce over it and boil the noodles." He seemed to contemplate a minute, then added, "I have the phone number for the pizza delivery place close to the phone, just in case."

I smiled and giggled, and then I was flooded with a memory of something very similar to this happening a long time ago.

It was a Friday night. Edward and Charlotte were at my house, sitting at the kitchen table, giggling like fools. I was sure they were stoned or drunk, but didn't know which. Even though sometimes Jeff didn't like for them to come over when his friends his age were going to be at his house, he would give Edward and Charlotte a little something to get them by.

Charlie walked in the door, scrunching up his nose and took one look around the kitchen, and saw Renee standing over by the stove, he shook his head slightly before taking a deep breathe. As soon as he did, he started coughing to the point I thought he was going to gag.

Of course, Charlotte and Edward died laughing, and I turned to them, giving them a wide-eyed expression, hoping that they would understand what I was trying to communicate to them. 'Hello, my dad is home, you know, the cop," which seeing my expression did nothing but make them snicker that much more. I smiled in spite of myself before turning away, before I burst out laughing along with them, and made Charlie think I was just as fucked up as they were.

"Uh, Renee. What are you cooking?" Charlie asked, perplexed as the rest of us, I'm sure, to even find her in the kitchen. Renee and the kitchen were like oil and water, they just didn't mix.

Renee turned to face my father with a pout on her face. "It's supposed to be beef smorgasbord, I got the recipe out of a magazine, but something is just not right." She stirred the ingredients around in the pan again, making the horrible smell emanate from the dish, filling the room and making all of our noses pinch up in disgust.

"Renee, honey, why don't I order a pizza for us?" Charlie suggested, looking over to us, winking. I glanced back at Edward and Charlotte, and when my eyes met theirs, we all began to laugh loudly.

"Hey, where did you go?" Charlie touched my arm, bringing me out of one of the happy memories that I had held onto so dearly.

Blinking up at him, I shook my head so that I could focus on my father again. "Just remembering."

Charlie was quiet for a moment, leaving me to my thoughts. "Bella, your mother and I were talking. We need to head back. It's time to go home."

"I know, Dad. It's time." There was no way I could avoid what I had to do any longer. It had already gone on for far too long.

"Have you given any idea as to what you are going to do when you get back?" he asked with concern.

I had. I had thought long and hard about the steps I needed to take when I went back. They would be hard, but I knew that it was what I needed to do. If I wanted to move on, I was going to have to put so many things behind me. I was scared that the first step was going to be the most difficult of them all.

"Yeah, Dad. I do. It's not going to be easy, but I know what I have to do."

"Bella, you don't have to do this." My father sighed heavily. He didn't have to elaborate. I knew what he was thinking. He was talking about Edward, but I was talking about James.

"That's where you're wrong. I should have done this a long time ago." In fact, I should have never let it go as far as I did. It was wrong of me in so many ways. Just another example of me doing to someone what had done to me, and it had to stop somewhere. This couldn't keep happening over and over again. It had to stop.

"You don't have to talk to Edward, you know. Not now. Not ever." I could hear the anger start to seep into Charlie's voice. This was not going to be easy.

"It's not Edward, Dad. It's James."

"Oh…well…that's different," Charlie stammered, tucking his hands in his pockets, relief washing over his features.

"I'm letting him go."

"What?" Charlie demanded, his baffled face bunching up.

"I mean, I'm letting him go. I should have done it a long time ago. I shouldn't have ever let it go this far. He deserves so much better." And he did. James is a good man who deserved someone who could love him.

"Bella, do you really think that is such a good idea?"

"Do you really think that I should keep stringing him along when I don't love him? When I have never loved him? When I will never love him?" I retorted sharply.

"Just give it a chance."

"What do you think I have been doing? I tried so hard to let him be the one I could turn to and love. I can't do it. I just can't love him. I don't love him." I could feel the anger start to boil under my skin. It was like it was so many years before, he wanted to control my life, control how I should feel about someone.

"This is about Edward, isn't it? It's always about Edward. He's no good for you. You know that, don't you? He just left you and never looked back." Charlie began to shake his head. His face turned red, contorting with anger. "I'm not going to let you talk to him. I'm not going to let him hurt you again."

"Excuse me?" I asked incredulously. Closing my eyes, I turned my head toward the heavens, begging for strength.

"I said, I am not going to let you talk to him." Charlie hissed, punctuating every word. "I am not going to give that bastard a chance to hurt you again. I should have stopped it last time. I…"

My eyes snapped back to his. "You don't have a choice in this. Not this time. This is my choice," I yelled back at him.

Here we go again, I thought bitterly. It seemed to run in cycles. Dirty, vicious, cruel cycles. Everything that happened in my life seemed to run in cycles.

Charlie sighed loudly, clearly avoiding what I said. "Don't you see that he is the problem here, not the solution?"

"No, I don't. Edward isn't to blame for all of this. He told me he didn't love me. It's not his fault he couldn't return my feelings. It's not his fault that I couldn't let go. I didn't have to curl into myself with the pain and let it consume me, pushing everyone out of my life. It's not his fault I shut you out. It's yours." My breathing was becoming shallow. My heart was racing. I could feel an anxiety attack coming on. I didn't want to fight with my father like this. Not again. I needed to calm down.

"What is all the yelling about? What's going on out here?" Renee demanded, as she came running down to the beach.

"Bella! I was only looking out for you. You are my daughter. My only daughter. It's my job to protect you," Charlie roared at me.

I took a deep breath. I had to calm down so that I could try to do this rationally, without alienating Charlie and to keep from panic attack. "I know, Dad. And I'm sorry things turned out the way they did. But we can't blame Edward for everything. If I have learned one thing, we are all to blame in one way or another. But I'm tired of blaming anyone. I'm tired of blaming Edward for not loving me back. I'm tired of blaming you for not letting me make my own choices. Edward. Charlotte. You. Me. I'm just tired of pointing the finger at someone else. It has to stop."

"Charlie, this is her choice." My mother laid her hand on Charlie's arm, trying to calm him down.

"Mom, don't." I couldn't let her get in the middle of this again. "Dad, I love you. I'm so sorry things happened the way they did. I wish I could change things, but I can't. The past is the past. But I can try to make things better." I gave him a watery smile. "And that is what I am going to try and do. For everybody." I reached out and took his hand. "But you can't protect me from something I did to myself. And I don't want to fight with you about it. And I don't want you fighting with mom either. This is my choice. I have to do what is right for me. Please understand. Please," I begged.

Tears were streaming down my face. My parents standing before me turned blurry and before I knew what had happened, Charlie had gathered me up in his arms, pulling Renee into the embrace with us.

I was overwhelmed by his show of emotion. This was not like us. We were not a touchy-feely family. But it was a start. It was more than I could hope for, considering everything we had been through. And I hoped that it would give me strength for what I had to do next.

The ride home was quiet, but not uncomfortable. All the tension that had been in the car with us on the ride down had been replaced by an easy existence, like we had shared in the past.

I wasn't sure if it was me, or if it was Charlie, but I think we both had come to some sort of understanding. This is my life. I had to do things for me, for once. But I knew that Charlie and Renee would be there for me, no matter what happened, and I took comfort in that.

When we arrived home, I took my suitcases and put them in my car. I hugged my parents and promised them that I would call when I got home. It was time for me to go home.

Home. I was almost scared to go back to my loft. I hadn't been there since after the funeral. Renee had driven me there to pick up some things, and when I walked inside, the thought of having to stay there by myself overwhelmed me with this crushing sense of despair of being alone, which made it very easy for me to accept Renee's offer to stay with her and Charlie for a while. There was no way I could stay there alone.

Just the thought of being alone there scared the hell out of me. For years, I enjoyed my solitude, not having to worry about someone asking questions or pointing out the wrongs of how I was living my life. There was no one that was around on a daily basis, so I didn't have to answer to anyone other than myself. I had wanted it that way since I had decided to walk away from my life, but I couldn't imagine being that way anymore.

When I opened the door, I took a deep breath through my nose, inhaling the scent that was distinctive to my home, a sense of comfort washing over me. Even though the thought of being here alone still bothered me, it was still my home. The thought of my things that I had surrounded myself with soothed me.

I was surprised that it didn't smell musty or wasn't covered in dust an inch thick. There was some dust, but not three month's worth. Renee must have come by and cleaned for me while I was staying with her. I made a mental note to thank her for taking care of everything for me in my absence.

Because of my OCD, the first thing I did was start unpacking my suitcase and began doing laundry. Then, I gathered my cleaning supplies, and started the task of cleaning up what little bit was dirty. Deep down, I knew that I was avoiding the real issue. I knew what I needed to do, but each time I thought about picking up the phone, my heart would hurt and panic would well up in my throat.

I didn't want to hurt him the way I had been hurt. But continuing on this way was not an option. I was only hurting him more by dragging this out.

After finishing all the laundry and scrubbing everything spotless, hunger pangs started to gnaw at me pulling me to the kitchen to find something to eat. One look in the refrigerator and my pantry made me realize that a trip to the grocery store was in order. Grabbing my keys and bag, I headed out, the whole time a little voice screaming at me in the back of my head, 'you're delaying the inevitable.' Every single thing I did was an attempt to prolong the unavoidable, making the guilt rip me apart inside.

Once I had spent more time in the grocery store than I ever had before, I trudged home feeling like the person who had just kicked their dog. No, I hadn't kicked it yet, I thought miserably, but the unmistakable feeling of knowing that was what I was about to do, didn't go away.

As soon as I finished putting the groceries away, I called him. I should have known that he would be waiting for my call. Because of Charlie's friendship with Dr. Anderson, he would know that I was back.

"Bella," James breathed softly into phone. "How are you? When did you get back?"

"I'm good. We just got back today. When I came home, I had to clean and go to the grocery store. I'm sorry I didn't call sooner."

"Hey, don't worry about it." James laughed quietly into the phone knowing how meticulous I could be about things. "I'm just glad you called. I missed you." His voice sounded so sincere, and the happiness that I heard caused guilt to layer upon guilt.

Without even replying to his statement, I plowed on. "James, I wanted to know if we could talk."

"Of course. When? I would love to see you," he responded instantly, the brightness in his voice causing my aching heart to retreat back into the darkness. If he knew what I was about to do, he would never sound so happy.

When would be a good time to break someone's heart? Would it be better to just get it over with, or keep on prolonging what you know is the right thing to do.

"James, I don't…" He interrupted me before I could tell him what this was all about. Like telling him over the phone that I was about to break his heart would have stopped him from coming over here. He is a lawyer, he is going to want to argue his case, and that was just part of the problem.

"Bella, let me come now. I'll be there in fifteen minutes." And before I could respond again, the phone cut off.

I dropped down on the couch, staring at the phone in my hand. Maybe I thought that if I kept it there long enough, James would magically appear back on the line. My stomach began to roll, the sickness welling up into my throat, making it burn like I was gargling acid.

I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to hurt him. But I couldn't keep living this lie. I couldn't let James keep living this lie. There was no way that I could let him continue to hope or think that there might be a chance for us. There never was one and there never would be. We both lived with the delusion that one day I might turn a new leaf and forget about the one my heart really belonged to. That too would never happen.

Caring for James was never the problem, loving him the way he wanted was. He was one of the most wonderful people I had ever known. But there was no way that I could ever be what he wanted.

The knock at my door made me jump even though it wasn't really that loud. James had never been a loud person, his style being more relaxed and laid back. The only time I had ever seen him be aggressive was towards Edward, which was no surprise.

The few steps from my couch to my door for some reason reminded me of someone walking to their death sentence. My over dramatics were apparently getting the best of me. But it was true, all I could think about was behind that door was a man who was about to get a sentence he neither wanted nor did he know it was even coming.

Looking through my peep hole, I could see that it was James. Slowly, I unlocked the door silently, cursing myself for going so slow. As soon as I opened the door, strong arms wrapped around me, James' clean scent of soap and cotton enveloping me. His lips pressed against my hair and I could hear him inhaling slowly, taking my scent into him.

Any other time, I would have snuggled into his arms, relishing the way our bodies seem to fit. Deep down I knew these weren't the arms that I wanted around me, and if nothing else, that thought solidified what I had to do. I may never be able to feel Edward's arms around me, but I knew that nothing else would ever replace them.

"Bella," James whispered against my temple, "I missed you so much."

Removing myself from his arms, I evaded his statement again, making my way over to the couch. I couldn't repeat those words to him, so I figured silence was better than lying to him.

"How are you, James?" Mentally I scolded myself for trying to be nice in this situation and getting off track.

James sat down on the other end of the couch, turning to face me. "I've been busy with work." James kept looking at me, his eyes moving across my face, trying to read me like I was on the witness stand.

My hands gripped together painfully, twisting and wringing, letting the pain focus me. There was no way I could prolong this anymore. Just rip the band-aid off quickly and get it over with.

"James, I don't know how to say this. This isn't going to be easy for me. I should have done this a long time ago. I'm sorry that I didn't just say it before."

James stiffened slightly, as if he was bracing himself for an attack. "What are you saying, Bella?"

"I'm saying that I can't be with you anymore. I should have never given you hope that there might be something more between us." So fast I didn't even know it happened, James was kneeling down in front of me, gripping my hands in his.

"Don't do this, Bella." James pleaded with me, his words stabbing straight through to my heart.

My head started shaking back and forth. This was going to be hard enough as it was, but if he begged me, I didn't know how I was going to make it through this. Pulling my hands out from his, I stood up and began to pace the room. I couldn't do this if he was touching me.

"I'm sorry I can't be what you want me to be. I can't give you what you need. You deserve better. You deserve to have someone love you," My voice was tired and anxious, my nerves were frayed from trying to make him understand, as I made my path across the floor. From my peripheral, I saw James stand up from where he was crouching down in front of the couch. He walked over, stepping right into my path, blocking me from pacing. His arms reached out and grabbed me, forcing me to look up at him.

"Don't you see? It's you I want to love me." James lowered his head down, whispering against my lips. "I just want you." His lips pressed against mine, soft and gentle. That is the way it has always been with him. Never pushing, never asking for more than I could give. His sweetness was killing me, little by little.

It was a vicious, vicious cycle that I kept spinning around in. Love unrequited. Rejection. Hurt. Pain. Last, but not least, death. More hurt and pain.

I loved Edward, but he didn't want me. Edward loved Charlotte, who barely loved herself and could care less about Edward, and definitely didn't love him in return.

Then James. He loved me and I couldn't love him in return. I was about to do to him what Edward did to me, because of Edward. The irony of the situation was not lost.

Over and over again it seemed like the people in my life could do nothing but hurt each other. I wanted it to stop. I just wanted it to stop.

With a strangled cry, I tore my lips from his. Easing my hands to James' chest, I gently pushed against him. He stopped immediately, looking down at me, hurt contorting his face.

Instantly I started shaking my head, tears flowing freely. "I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you."

"Then don't. Let me be the one for you," James murmured, holding me close to him.

"I can't. I wish I could." If James only knew how much I regretted that I couldn't give him what he wanted.

"You can, Bella. You just have to try. We could be so good together. I can see it all. After we are married, we would move into a house together and make it our home. I can see you, your belly swollen with our child, sitting in a hammock in the backyard. That is what it could be, if you would just let it." James pleaded.

Hot, shameful tears ran down my cheeks. Instead of being upfront and honest with James from the beginning, I led him to believe that one day there might be a future for us. The knife in my heart twisted. I wasn't sure how much more pain I could live with in my life. The thought of hurting James this way was more painful than I ever thought it would be.

"I'm sorry, James. So sorry. You are such a good man. Since I have known you, you have been nothing but giving and kind. You've always put everyone else's needs before your own. You deserve to have someone who can do that for you. I'm not that person. I should have never led you to believe that there was a future for us and I regret it more than you know. We're not meant to be."

"God, he really fucked you up, didn't he?" James said wearily, his voice laced with regret. He walked over to the window, staring out into the night, his arms crossed over his chest.

I wanted to be angry at him for blaming Edward, as my father had, but I didn't have the energy to fight him and tell him the truth. No one could see that it was me who was to blame. "This has nothing to do with Edward. This is about me. I can't be what you want me to be. I love you. But I'm not in love with you."

"Why do people say that? It makes no sense at all," James contemplated out loud. Pressing his heels of his hands into his eyes, he paused for a moment, before looking at me with a pained expression on his face. "Please, don't do this. We can be good together. Don't listen to what he's told you."

"I haven't talked with Edward since the funeral." James looked surprised at my admission. "While I was away, I did a lot of soul searching. Edward's rejection may have hurt me, but it was me that held on to that and let it fester. Then with my parents, or anyone else that I was afraid might get too close, I shut them out to keep from being hurt again. Charlotte was the only one I would let get close, but even with her, I kept at arm's length because I knew that one day she would be gone too. I can't keep blaming Edward for the choices I've made and the way I've lived my life. It was a stupid first love that was unwanted. I can't blame him for not feeling the same way."

What little strength I had was slipping. My heart hurt, and the sobs that threatened to break free were ripping me apart from the inside out. My throat suddenly felt tight from the tears, and before I could continue, I tried in vain to clear whatever was lodged there. "I just know that I care too much for you to let you stay with me when I know there is someone out there that can give you so much more than I can."

James moved in front of me, his big hands reaching up and gently framing my face, his touch soothed and hurt me at the same time. It was a long time before he said anything, as he stared into my eyes. Whatever he saw must have convinced him that I meant everything that I had said. His head dropped and shoulders slumped in defeat. The look in his eyes said it all, he was giving up. He knew this was a fight he couldn't win.

At this moment, I hated myself more than I ever had before. Knowing that I had made him feel this way tore my heart apart.

"I'm sorry that you feel this way. I never wanted anything from you but your love. I can't make you love me. And I would never force you to try."

James gathered me in his arms, embracing me, I was sure for the last time. "Goodbye, Bella."

"Goodbye, James." With that, he turned and walked out the door, shutting it quietly behind him without looking back. In a daze, I walked over, locking the door behind him, locking out the rest of the world just as I had locked everyone out of my heart.

Turning around, I looked at my apartment and the emptiness that surrounded me. I did the right thing. I know I did. It wasn't fair to James for him to wait for something that will never happen. But why did the right thing hurt so fucking bad?

After turning out all the lights, I walked into my bedroom and changed into my pajamas. Pulling the covers back, I crawled into bed, curling up into a ball, holding my arms around myself to keep from falling apart, hoping that sleep would take me so that I could fall into a dreamless slumber and forget what I had done.

Could Edward feel my pain the way I could feel the pain I caused James? Did Edward hurt like this after he rejected me because he knew that he had hurt me? Should I even allow myself to hurt for causing James pain like this? I felt like whatever happened to me I deserved for hurting James this way.

Tears made a wet trail down my face, dripping off my cheeks, soaking my pillow. My head hurt from trying so hard to keep the tears away. My throat was so tight, I felt the need to rip it open just to breathe. And my heart. I wasn't sure if there was anything left to be saved.

I hoped that as I laid here in bed, that sleep would overtake me so that I could escape the agony that was pulling me down. But I knew that I was unworthy of such a wish, and honestly, I didn't think I deserved such a right.

I laid there in bed, watching the moon out my window, thinking about how everything had gone so wrong. Certainly I can't blame anyone else for the choices I have made.

My thoughts drifted to Edward and the way that he apologized for the way things happened between us. At the time, as much as I didn't want to believe that it was sincere, now thinking back, his guilt was palpable. Even though he didn't have the same sad look in his eyes that always drew me in, I can remember there was guilt hidden in those deep green eyes.

There was no way I could let him live any longer with that guilt. The guilt I felt was ripping me apart and Edward had lived with it much longer than I have. It was time to forgive and forget. Then maybe we could move on and put the past and all the pain behind us.

A/N: You will either hate this or understand. Review and let me know. This chapter was hard to write. The next one is will be even harder. I'll update as soon as I can.

freaky