All my love to the SotTP and their unfailing support for my many descents into madness. Thanks muchly to everyone who reads and reviews. You give my foolishness credibility.

Special love to SlashKittenMina who has given my boys nicknames—Lostward and Brokenlisle. I love it Mina!

As always, SM owns it, I just get to play in her sandbox.

Chapter Twenty-One

EPOV

The hum of the tires did little to cut into the deafening silence that filled the car. My words hung in the air between us, the full impact weighing on the atmosphere like a lead balloon. Carlisle snapped his attention back to the road, the muscle in his jaw twitching, his fists twisting around the steering wheel. I opened my mouth, seeking to break the stalemate, when I saw Carlisle shaking his head. Slow, silent tears seeped from the corner of his eye, rolling down his cheek to fall on his navy blue polo shirt. My mouth snapped shut, but I couldn't look away, each drop feeling like an accusation, while the damp, dark spot on his shoulder widened with each one that fell. I'd pushed him too far.

"Carlisle," I tried again. He dropped his head, dragging his face across his sleeve, leaving another dark smear behind. "I never meant to hurt you, but I just couldn't do it anymore." Leaning over, I pried his hand loose from the steering wheel, tangling my fingers with his. "I needed you, I still need you. Everything you did made me feel like you didn't need me."

"I…It's…," he paused when his voice broke. Swallowing hard, his lips pursed before puffing out with a deep sigh. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "I can't do this while I'm driving, Edward. Please….can we shelve it, at least until we stop again?"

Studying his face for signs of avoidance, I saw none, only nervous resignation. Nodding my head in silent acquiescence, I gave his hand a squeeze, before laying our twined fingers on the seat between us. I loosened my grip, expecting him to pull away. Instead, he wrapped his hand tighter around mine, while his shoulders visibly relaxed. Balancing the steering wheel with his knee, he pulled his sunglasses off the collar of his shirt and slid them on. I didn't miss his unwillingness to break the tenuous connection created by our clasped hands.

The mood in the car eased, even with the prospect of a potentially volatile conversation in the near future. While I hadn't wanted to bring everything up before the funeral, leaving it sit would only make it worse in the long run, given the events of the previous night. I settled myself back against the seat, still angled toward him, allowing my eyes to drink in his profile, while I tried to think of the right words to say, what I needed to tell him, in order for him to understand why I'd made the decision I had.

His angry outburst ran through my mind, but I focused on his tone, not the words themselves. There had been pain, anger in them. Maybe it wasn't over for him, either. My decision to leave hadn't been made lightly, even if it seemed that way to him at the time. I'd stopped fighting with him when I felt my words were falling on deaf ears, but I'd stayed for almost two months after the last one, in hopes that things would change.

The tenants who'd sublet my apartment had given me thirty days' notice the week prior to our last argument, yet I chose to list it for rent again, not wanting to make a hasty decision in a fit of pique. Even after the tenants moved out, freeing up my place if I wanted to leave, I'd waited for a sign that Carlisle was still vested in our relationship. When he missed yet another evening we'd planned to spend together, I reached the end of my rope. He'd never known that I stood in the hallway outside our door, after it clicked closed behind me that last night, contemplating the possibility of turning around and trying one last time. It had taken every remaining shred of my self-control to walk away.

In the easy silence, I relaxed. My body felt lethargic, my mind fuzzy, the emotional impact of what was to come washing over me. Despite my efforts to the contrary, my eyes drifted shut and I dozed off, mentally and physically exhausted.

Well, now. I could say a lot, but I think someone else could say it better. Carlisle's POV is up next, later on today.