Well you guys, It came to my attention I've been spelling Masen as Mason this whole time! Thanks for the heads up! Anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter! Some serious drama is to come soon!

Chapter 18

Isabella lays on her back looking up towards the sky, the clouds gray, nearly black as if it's about to rain. I should go inside, but I'm overcome with such need, such basic need to have her close to me. The writings of her father opened such horrors for me, of course I've always known people were capable of such things, such sickness but to have it happen with someone so close to me, it's unnerving. The fact that it was Isabella's sister does nothing for my nerves, because for all I know he could have fantasized about both. I can't help but wonder, did he touch Victoria? Did he physically act on those disgusting urges? Did he ruin in a completely different way before ending her life?

I reach over and grab her hand and to my surprise she tugs it away, her face turning into one of agitation. She refuses to look at me and I can't help but be angered by my wounded pride.

"Alright, what's the matter" I ask a bit harshly, annoyed with her childish behavior.

She simply shrugs her shoulders, still refusing to look at me, instead finding great interest in the sky.

"Nothing, why must you always assume when you don't get your way something's the matter with me?" She says arrogantly, a tinge of spitefulness seeping its way into her tone.

Immediately I grit my teeth somewhat, trying to ignore her statement and how it actually hurts a little. It would do no good to nurse my wounded pride in front of her, she'd just use it to her own advantage.

"Oh I don't know, usually because you were acting perfectly fine yesterday, and since we haven't spoken since then I can't seem to find any reason the fault is with me," I bite out.

She just rolls her eyes, annoyance clearly visible on her face.

"Oh of course, that's right, I've forgotten," she says with mock surrender. "Edward Masen is never at fault for anything," she continues theatrically and my body tenses with anger. "Edward Masen never does anything wrong, Edward Masen"-

"Oh come off it will you, you're acting like a spoiled brat!" I state over her little monologue.

-"Can just do whatever he wants whenever he wants and we all just have to be okay with it," she finishes as I roughly roll on top of her pinning her arms above her head.

Her eyes narrow, and anger shines brightly there, she's glaring at me as if I'm the most loathsome creature on this godforsaken planet.

"What is your problem?" I grind out but she doesn't stay pinned beneath me for long, instead she uses her leg to roll us over unexpectedly.

I lose my grip on her hands and she pushes me violently against the dirty ground, leaning in my face.

"Get over yourself," she says coldly before shoving me down more in order to get up.

Anger, pure white hot anger overcomes my senses and I don't stay down for long, instead I get up and stalk after her, grabbing her forearm and roughly spinning her around.

"Get over myself?" I growl. "Why don't you follow your own advice My Dear, what could I have possibly done between last night and now that cause so much ferocity from you? Please do enlighten me Love!" I mock to which she wrenches her arm from my grasp.

"Oh don't give me that," she bites back angrily. "You are very well clear on what you've done, what your currently doing, and what you will do!" She continues her voice rising with each word. "And I refuse to play your little game any longer!" She proclaims.

"My little game! What the hell"-

"Rosalie Edward!" She screams over me. "Rosalie!"

"Are going on about woman?" I yell in frustration. Why can't we have just one day, just one day where there isn't all this damned fighting, one day of just peace?

"Rosalie! Rosalie!" She continues to scream and all I can see is her and the last person I want to think about is my pathetic fiance!

"Rosalie, Rosalie-

"Isn't here!" I scream as grab her waist and back her forcibly into a tree. "You've always known that eventually it would come to this, eventually I would have to move on." I say tightly trying to will her to understand.

But she just shakes her head, refusing to let it go. Instead she pushes against me and I go stumbling back.

"I'm done," she states flatly. "I'm done with this and with you," she finishes coldly.

Fury, panic, need, and want all nearly explode inside me. She cannot leave me! She cannot leave me! I will not let her leave me.

"You swore to me!" I scream raw at her retreating form. "You swore that you would never leave me again!"

Suddenly she turns around and looks at me with such hatred in her eyes.

"And yet you will leave me?" She asks quietly, coldly. "No, I am done being your play toy, go play with Rosalie because I'm finished with you." She finishes before disappearing into the house.

Pain swells up inside me, and this sharp stab in my chest and I feel as though I cannot breathe. She's really leaving me, she's really leaving.

Leaving.

And suddenly all pain leaves and only anger remains. She promised. She promised.

She lied.

It is like the whole world is gray, bleak dark and gray and everything that once held me captive, what little joys I had left are now gone, swept away by my own foolish pride and stupidity. She loved me, all she ever did was love me and I ruined her. The thought creeps to my mind and swiftly I swipe off the remnants from the table. Everything I touch I burn. Biting the inside of my cheek from trying to contain a howl and self hatred, I instantly taste the metallic liquid filling my mouth. Spitting into a glass, blood spills over my mouth and down my chin, and I can see it staining the glass.

Isabella's face, and crimson soaked dress fills my mind and I find I'm consumed with it. Nothing I do makes the image go away, for nights I dreamt of the nightmare, those vacant eyes, red stained mouth and the blood pouring everywhere, that scream that escaped her mouth, that scream I'll never truly stop hearing, the murder I never saw but can never stop seeing in my head. Groaning, I feel myself stumble from my chair and into the wall before sliding down it. My head is pounding, cold sweat going down my spine and no matter how hard I try I cannot stop hearing that scream, stop seeing those cold vacant eyes.

I finally did it, done the very thing she said I would. I broke Isabella Swan, and this time I do not think she'll forgive me. She's really gone this time, left me and never coming back, and no amount of screaming and pounding the dirty wooden floor this time will ever bring her back. This wretched cold feeling that has left me exhausted and void fills me deeper, seeping into every pore of my body. Suddenly everything I loved, everything I ever cared about seems meaningless now. All I ever wanted, all I ever still want is her, and it's now ripped from my grasp and it's my fault.

This game I had played with her, finally I had taken too far, pushed too hard and broke her and I have no one to blame but myself. I reveled in her pain, enjoyed it for myself and now I had taken the only person I have ever truly loved and broke her beyond repair. Two weeks it has been since the incident and she has not made one single appearance, no flash of her face, no whisper of my name, nothing, and this silence its overbearing, killing me slowly.

Some part of my frazzled mind, I realize I need to move on. I have always known this day was coming, where either she or I would leave, where our time limited, only short flashes of sweet memories, fighting with each other to keep what little we had left, would come to an end. We've reached that end and it's over now, and maybe I can leave, have the strength to finally let her go and go on with my life as if she never happened, as if she never existed, to erase these past seventeen years and become someone knew someone different.

Maybe I could truly marry Rosalie and start over.

But Isabella's face comes to mind, her dark violet eyes and smile that intoxicated me, her black hair blowing in the wind as she turns back to me from running in the gardens. That face I'll never see again, those eyes flashing in utter loathing, lust and love I'll never bare witness too, that skin, soft pale that will never be felt from my fingertips. This need, this basic driven need that goes so much deeper than carnal lust fills my entire being and for the first time I do not question it, or push it deep inside to hide it from myself.

I love her.

The thought hangs in the open, and suddenly this sound, hysterical from my ears escapes my mouth. Laughter. Bitter laughter, life must think this some big joke, the finale of the act, give little Edward what he finally wants only to rip it from his fingertips moments before. I love her. What good that will do me now, the feeling, the choice will never be mine to hold ever again.

My laughter stops short as I feel something wet on my face, slowly touching it I realize its tears. How even more amusing, now I'm crying. Maybe I'm officially losing my head, collapsed on the floor, blood spilling off my mouth and chin, crying and laughing hysterically, professing declarations of love to woman, no girl, who isn't even alive, or maybe not even real. With my luck, I'll wake up a child in that hospital screaming against the restraints holding me in, realizing it was all a dream.

You'll never be rid of Edward Masen.

You'll never plague my dreams like I do yours, I'll never be consumed by you like you are and you'll always just be the little boy I found lying broken on the dirty floor, pathetically sobbing over me.

Anger consumes me as her words whisper in my ears, her eyes flashing dangerously, wickedly. That gleam, that spark in her eyes and I faintly wonder if she hated me as much as I hated her, if she wanted me as much as I wanted her. Though I doubt it, she's only fifteen, and she never saw the world, never grew up, in a way never truly got past her age. I imagine if she were alive, she would see me as nothing but a crush and quickly move on, though I wouldn't look at her twice for serious consideration, her age alone would still put her as a child compared to Rosalie.

But that's not the way it happened, she was there when no one else was, protected me when I needed it, and loved me when no one else would. She was all I had, and even when I grew up, that bond, couldn't truly be broken, and what started out as just basic need, addiction turned into something darker, something much more dangerous. I fell in love with her, a girl that was never truly mine to begin with. I vaguely remember thinking how I knew the ending to our story, and I guess we've reached it. But this was not how it was supposed to happen, I was supposed to have more time, more…

Something.

But the problem with more is that what you have will never be enough. It's like chasing clouds, having something nearly in your grasp but pulled away at the last second, a continuous game you keep playing with the hope of winning but always losing. Soon you have to stop, accept your fate and well I guess she did it for herself, and in turn for me as well. The game is over, and no one won. And the price playing I'm not sure is worth the outcome, sometimes I wish I had never seen her in that garden, never spoken to her, never met her at all, wished us to never happen.

I wonder if she wishes the same thing.

Emmett's POV

Emmett stands at the door way of the library, peering as his friend is sitting miserably on the floor. He vaguely wonders how everything got shot to hell so quickly. Everything inside of him wants to run to him, help him fight off this thing, this idea that's poisoning his friend's mind, rotting him from the inside out. But how can you help someone when they refuse to be helped. Edward is probably the most stubborn human he's ever known, and his refusal to be helped only makes matters worse on himself, though Emmett vaguely realizes his help won't do much good to begin with.

Edward looks so broken, his black hair array, as if he's tried pulling it from the roots, his clothes wrinkled, blood smeared across his chin and lips, dark circles under his eyes, and those eyes, vacant, devoid of anything, as if all the pain in the world finally crashed inside him and he's been consumed by it, no longer to fight it off. His friend has always be the stronger one, defiant of emotions, strong walls surrounding him, skin made of steel. And now to see him like this is, he's not sure what to think or do.

But there isn't much he can do anyways, Edward's refusal of help is only sending himself further into this pit of self-hatred and deprivation. So Emmett does only what he knows he can do, walk away and leave his friend in peace. Grabbing his coat and keys, he swiftly walks towards the door but not before a cold chill invades the room. But it's gone almost the minute it arrived, so much so he wonders if it even happened at all. Shaking his head he quickly leaves and heads to the one place that will clear his mind.
The drive to Rosalie's house isn't far, but frazzled as he is he can't get there soon enough. Maybe she can pull Edward out of this quickly spiraling situation that will only leave them all scarred at the end of it all. Finally arriving at her house he quickly gets out and walks briskly to the door before knocking loudly. Silence is his answer and he begins tapping his foot in his own anxiousness, Rosalie's presence is difficult enough as it is. He's well aware of his own feelings, and the inappropriateness of them considering she belongs to another, his best friend of all people. Emmett has never be one to just take what he wants from another. No I'll that up to my devoted and most loyal friend. The thought is bitter and cruel, and maybe life is just cruel in general, but how can he deny Edward of anything, they both came from cruel circumstances and why deny his friend happiness just because he couldn't find it?

No, his friend deserved to love and be loved even if it was at the expense of his own feelings and himself.

Suddenly the doors opens, shaking him from his thoughts. Rosalie stands at the door, blond hair swept up loosely and blue eyes sparkling in happiness, happiness for him. And all feelings of unrequited ones leaves his mind momentarily.

"Emmett," she says with a smile. "Come in please," she continues as she opens the door for him.

Walking inside he takes off his hat and turns to her as she closes the door behind him. Abruptly she throws her arms around him, embracing me gently, and though he stiffens at the initial contact, it doesn't take him long before embracing her in return. But all to soon she disengages herself.

"Hello Rosalie," he says softly, warmly.

"What brings you here today?" She asks as she leads him towards the sitting room. "Would you like anything to drink?" She continues as he sits down.

"No thank you to the drink," he says before she sits down opposite of him. "How are you Rosalie?" He asks first.

She smiles again, a beautiful smile but it doesn't quite meet her eyes.

"Wonderful," she says though her eyes look quite exhausted and he can't help but feel the surge of anger towards his friend.

Edward hasn't contacted her in a couple of weeks, and even he knows it, and the effect it's having on his friend's fiance isn't good. She looks tired, worn from the emotional battle Edward keeps her fighting in, treating her like she means nothing, breaking her heart, only to real her back in at the last second. Emmett knows she deserves better, but who is he to speak so ill of his friend? So instead he defends him, to her at least hoping one day Edward will come around to love her like he does.

"He will come back Rosalie," he begins softly and suddenly her face transforms and gone is the smile she once held, and now her expression most sad. They are no longer playing pretend anymore, she can be free with him and the knowledge makes him happy, somewhat muting his own pain. She's more herself with him than she is with her own fiance.

"I do not know what to believe anymore Emmett," she says quietly before turning away, her eyes looking out the window. "When I first met him, he was unlike anyone I had ever known before, his eyes held such mystery, and I found myself immersed in them. But now all I find are more secrets, and though I know his validity in his proposal I'm not sure of the validity of love, because just when I think I'm on the brink of having it finally, something always comes and steals it from me. There's this darkness in his eyes, this loneliness and ache and it breaks my heart, but no matter how hard I try, nothing I do is ever enough." She finishes as she looks at the rain now pouring down her window.

Her voice is so sad, filled with longing and hope she'll never have. She knows she'll never be enough, and it's that thought that nearly sends him over the edge, because she'll always be enough for him. But it's Edward currently broken on the dirty floor, not eating and eyes vacant, not him, and it's for his own loyalty for his friend that he'll give her up.

"He's suffering Rosalie," he says but she still won't look at him. "Nothing I do makes any difference," he continues trying to get her attention. "Rosalie," he calls softly but she still looks out the gloomy window. "Rosalie," he says forcefully now, suddenly she turns towards him. "Something is hurting him, he's hardly eaten in two weeks, and barely left his room, there's this pain in his eyes, as if he's bearing the whole world and it's sins on his shoulders. He needs you," he says.

She continues to look at him, not saying a word almost refusing to believe him.

"He needs you," he repeats slowly. "You can wake him up from this nightmare that is plaguing him night and day, please" he finally gets out.

Finally she nods.

"Okay," she whispers almost as in defeat. But quickly she straightens her shoulders, holding her head back, a determined spark in her eyes. "I will come with you." Her voice is now resigned.

Standing up, she faces him and it hurts knowing how unhappy she is. But she loves Edward, and even though he's killing slowly, she'll be even more unhappy without him. In this moment, he remember how they first met on that train. She had been interested in him first, drawn in by his charm and wit, and for a second, however brief he thought he could have her. Of course Edward walked in and dazzled her with his mysterious glint and blue eyes. And it was as if Emmett never rode on that train, as if he was never present with them at all. Edward saw her and he wanted her, so he took her without a second thought.

That is just the way he's always been, and he'd be lying if he said it never made him jealous. He envies his friend for his sense of confidence, control over people, so very different from his own personality. He could never be like his friend, cold-hearted, manipulative, charming, and so full of regret that it eats away his own soul little by little till eventually there isn't one there at all. No, he could never be like Edward Masen, have this allure, this flame that drew people in, a dangerous spark in his demeanor just enough to awaken unspoken desires, and it is this reason why he'll never have Rosalie.

Let me know what you guys think!