Chapter Twenty-Five: Chicago is So Two Years Ago

Revised: April 26, 2009

EPOV

I just told Bella's father no.

I just told Charlie Swan, Chief 'Gun toting" Swan no. No.

What in the HELL was I thinking???

Simple: I wasn't thinking; at least not about the repercussions from disobeying the wishes of an avid gun collector with a hot temper. No...all I could think about was Bella; wanting Bella, needing Bella, praying for Bella's forgiveness.

Finding Bella was a wake-up call. One that I didn't and would never want to experience again, but the sad part of it all was that it was a necessary evil. I needed this blunt force of emotion to realize that I was a damn screw-up. My actions could have cost more than our secret love affair, but her very own life. A life I had come to hold with higher value than my own.

Her body, lying lifeless on the bedroom floor...replaying the images in my head: the way her bloodied face looked at a reluctant peace, the way her limp arms were splayed above her body, like the dying weeds of autumn...

No...I wasn't going to leave her again. Never. Even if she wouldn't accept my love, I would still stay near. I would still protect her. I wasn't going to give up on her like she had given up on herself. I was going to stay strong for the both of us.

Even if that meant jail time or getting pumped full of lead by her erratic, overprotective father.

Charlie spun around as I fell silent and gave me the "Swan daggers" with his eyes; the very same ones Bella would give me when I did something she didn't approve of, except her daggers were much more wicked, yet incredibly sexy. Charlie's was just scary...

...really fucking scary.

"What the hell did you just say, kid?" He said with this demonic tone laced with shock. Did he seriously think I would leave his demand without countering? Did he really expect me to be whipped like a dog and leave it at that?

"I said no, Chief Swan. I refuse to leave your daughter alone. Leaving her alone created this mess. I won't do it again."

Charlie stared at me in disbelief before giving me a feeble attempt at a shove away from Bella's room. "Boy, I'm warning you..."

I stepped forward again, "Chief Swan, with all due respect, I really don't give a damn what you want. My top priority is Bella. If you want to use me for target practice, go right...."

"No! No! No! You destroyed my daughter's spirit, you little jerk! Why don't you get home to your wife?"

I felt the blood run out of my cheeks as I began to lose control, clenching my fists into tight balls, I got up in the Chief's face and screamed as loud as I possibly could.

"I DON'T HAVE A WIFE, DAMN IT! I broke off our engagement to be with Bella! I called it quits in front of Chicago's top notch citizens! I confessed I was in love with your daughter! I love Bella, damn it! I LOVE HER!"

Charlie stood there in front of me, shell shocked. Before he can sputter out his response, Bella's pained cries echoed through the hospital hall.

"Stop it! Both of you! I can't take anymore! Edward...please....just leave, I'm begging you..."

I looked past Charlie and through the doorway at her and felt that familiar ache all over again: the same ache I felt the night she came over to my apartment with the things I gave her. The same ache that I felt when I held her on the cold marble floor as she cried in emotional pain. Her skin was paler than normal, bleach rather than cream, her hair was disheveled and there were blotchy red streaks on her cheeks from excessive crying.

Even though I didn't want to leave her again, I didn't want to torture her either. I nodded in defeat and complied to her wishes.

I turned on my heel and forced myself to walk away for the time being. I would give her space for the time being until I can find a way to prove myself again.

BPOV

I watched with tear glazed eyes as Edward stormed off down the hall. It was excruciating to pretend to hate him; to pretend that I wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. It was necessary though, at least I thought it was...feeling, on the other hand, was a polar opposite.

I was angry at him for pro-longing my pain. Didn't he understand? It was in his best intentions for me to leave. He had a reputation to uphold in the city of Chicago. Didn't he realize what he was throwing away?

Ultimately, though, I was angry with myself. I got into this huge mess to begin with by falling in love with a man that was physically and emotionally unavailable. I failed at my second attempt at taking my life. I couldn't keep a guy interested and I couldn't end a life filled with loneliness and self-doubt.

I heard the foot of my bed groan in protest to another weight being applied to its frame. I broke my focus from the hospital window's vast view of Chicago's morning skyline to look to the foot of the bed. My father sat there; the profile of his face weathered by fading anger, concern, and lack of sleep. He kept his eyes downcast, looking down at his clasped hands. Silence invaded the space between us for several more minutes; it was evident that whatever Charlie was preparing to say needed these minutes of solitude to find the proper approach to the tasks at hand. I knew by the conflicted look on his face right down to the way he tapped his black leather boots against the pristine hospital floor that whatever he was about to say would change my life in one way or another.

"Bells?"

His scratchy voice finally broke through the crevices of my mind like specks of light leaking through the remnants of a battered, abandoned house. I looked up into his eyes, exact copies of my own, and saw the pain; the unmistakable fear. I caused that fear. I caused that pain. My own attempt to end my life reawakened his memories of my mother's passing. He experienced death with his parents and then his wife.

I realized then, as he reached over to take my small, smooth hands in between his large leathery ones, that my death would only hurt him more. It would devastate him and Debra both. I was their only child. It would be selfish to leave them behind. I had to live, for their sake only. I loved them both with all my heart.

Charlie cleared his throat once more before speaking again. "Bells...Debs and I have been talking...baby, maybe it's time you came home. You could live with us, you know? Your room is the same way you left it...Dr. Meyer is still a therapist at the hospital, too. You can go talk to her weekly. Maybe you can take a break from classes...or perhaps take classes at one of the nearby colleges?"

I remained still and very silent, allowing his plans to sink in. I could tell by his stuttering that he was becoming nervous as he continued to lay out the plans to move back to Forks with careful detail; as if it was a done deal.

"You know, if you're worried about work, I'm sure Deb can check with Forks Elem and see if there are openings for pre-school aides? Or maybe Cora at Carver's Diner can use an extra hand...Cora sure does miss seeing you. Aunt Amanda would love to have you back too."

I continued to think the plan out. I wasn't happy with my life, that I was absolutely sure. I was forced to survive. For the sake of my father and stepmother, I had to pull through. It didn't matter how empty I felt.

I also had to disappear from Edward's life, for the greater good of his future. Edward had worked so hard for everything he accomplished. He deserved much more than I, a girl that came from a small lumberjack town with no money or social climb, could ever offer. I loved him, as difficult as it was to admit now and even though I know he ended things with Tanya, I still felt that he could find someone better; more deserving. I also felt that, maybe, it was a little too late to rekindle any chances of a life together. In real life, Prince Charming never stayed forever. There were no guarantees that we'd work. That's why I had to do something. I had to turn in my resignation to my friends; to my acquaintances; to Chicago itself.

James was gone, after all. He couldn't hurt me any longer. Today, I could start new again. Even though a part of me was going to be missing from this point on, I was willing to try. I had to try.

Without another fleeting thought, I squeezed my father's hand.

"Let's go home."