A/N: Dearest reader, I own no part of the Twilight Saga. And warning: this chapter mentions rape.

XXV.

part-time love is the life round here
we're never done

Bella received a call from a familiar number—a number she had long deleted—that evening.

Her heart didn't flutter this time; it just sank deeper into the pit of her stomach. There was nobody on this planet she'd be okay with talking to this time. Not even her mother. That trust had been long broken. Bella just wished to be swallowed up by her bed and never resurface.

Her voice was thick and she felt the tears boil behind her eyes. "Yeah?" she asked, trying to refrain from breaking down already.

"I miss you, baby," the familiar voice said. "When can I see you?"

"Are you in town?"

"Yes. Get ready and I'll pick you up."

He was so ambiguous and not detail-oriented this time around. He didn't plan any of this. He was being more rash than she was used to. Something was wrong, but she didn't know what. She didn't think she wanted to know.

"When?" she asked.

"Soon, baby," he told her. "Soon."

Bella and Edward went to a place they hadn't been to together since they were sixteen and carefree: the coffee shop in Port Angeles. In more recent times, he was more fond of the nicer places and showing her the finer side of the badlands, if there was one.

Tonight, he didn't care to plan anything, and Bella was horribly overdressed, clad in the nicest top and skirt ensemble she owned. She even wore the ring on a necklace, but it was tucked underneath her shirt. He hardly even noticed—or so she thought.

Edward talked to her like he hadn't broken up with her, like they'd only been on a break. He talked to her like nothing had happened between now and last Christmas when he'd broken up with her. It was incredible, really—he was so fake.

They were kind of perfect for each other.

But as he continued to talk, probably just to hear himself speak rather than carry a conversation, none of his words did anything for her. She realized she was emotionally drained. After breaking up with Jacob, she had driven home and went straight up to her room. She had entered the house with tears in her eyes—not for Jacob, but for how angry she was at herself—and Charlie couldn't get any details out of her no matter how hard he tried. They were so distant he'd never know the truth again. She had been awake for only a few minutes when Edward had called her, and she still wasn't really awake yet. Would she ever feel awake again? She didn't know. But she was so emotionally exhausted it was hard to hear what he was saying. It was hard to hear or feel anything.

"Bella?" he asked for the fourth time. His voice was gentle.

She blinked and focused again. "Sorry," she said.

"Did you hear anything I just said?"

"No, sorry. I zoned out. What did you just say?"

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I said I only came here to take back what's mine," he said. His voice was firmer now like he'd worked up the courage in her mental absence to say this. But he had too much courage for his own good. That was why he had her so wrapped up in him, and for so long.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I need the ring back."

She furrowed her brows. "What, did you find someone else to give it to?" She tried to not sound upset, but she couldn't help it. How had he found somebody to replace her so quickly? She still loved him—in a way. How had he gotten over her so easily?

It just wasn't fucking fair. She couldn't believe it. She wouldn't believe it.

"I haven't found anybody," he told her. "But I need it back."

"You came to visit me and take me out for a ring?" she asked, tears stinging her eyes.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, she thought. You're not supposed to cry over him—not anymore.

"Yes," Edward replied, his voice stoic. "So where is it?"

Bella could feel the necklace the ring was hung on, under her dress. Ever since she had received it—in Seattle after her second summer with him—it had become a part of her. She hadn't worn it when she had been with Jacob, of course, but she wore it through any and everything else.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she lied lamely. "I don't have it."

Edward swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing once. "I know you have it," he said, his voice as sharp as a needle, "so where is it?"

"I don't have it," she repeated.

"Don't tell me you've lost the ring."

"It's not like we're married."

"True," he agreed. "If we were married, you wouldn't be stupid enough to lose a damn ring."

Bella was shaking with anger; her tears were threatening to escape and ruin everything even further. "It's just a ring," she told him weakly.

"Then give it back," he commanded, his hand held out, just waiting. His green eyes were mean and unforgiving. They also wouldn't take no for an answer.

She took the necklace out from under her shirt and cradled the ring in her hand before slipping the entire necklace off of her. She crumpled up her fist and slammed it into his open palm. And just like that, they meant nothing to him.

He promptly closed his hand over the necklace and ring, and her tears escaped, coming out slowly, one by one.

"I hate you," she told him, her voice cracking. "I hate you so much."

His face stayed the same as he shook his head. "No, you don't," he said. "You could never hate me."

"I should," she said, completely still now. "I should hate every single thing about you."

"But you don't."

"I don't, Edward," she said through her teeth. "I really don't."

She didn't plan on going back to his house with him—she didn't plan on anything. And when she really thought about it, she had never, ever planned on letting him influence her like this. He had too much power—who ever told him to be that way? Who ever allowed him to shrink her in all the ways that he had?

She could only blame herself.

In the dark of his bedroom in Forks, he laid back against the headboard and lit his joint as she stripped down in front of him, letting her clothes fall into a mess on the floor. He had already stripped her emotionally; the physical part would be a lot easier, so she could do it herself.

"Aren't you proud to be mine?" he asked her as she walked towards the bed and his bare body. "Don't you want to be good for me?"

She was his doll again. Dress me up, wind me up, let me walk, let me talk. Love me rough, set me down when you're done, and ignore me until you're lonely again. It was just what she wanted.

Bella leaned onto the bed and brought her face close so he could share with her. She sucked in her cheeks and closed her eyes, letting the smoke invade her lungs. Being sober never really did much for her. Even though she was all sorts of dead, she felt somewhat alive now. Too alive—like a loaded gun.

He kissed her hard, like he wasn't going to see her again, and it was then that she was positive it was over. They had been over for a while now. There was no real correlation between them at the coffee shop and them now, besides the fact that they were both dead. He wouldn't pick her back up whenever he got lonely—he'd just find something newer and shinier to play with from now on.

And when it was all said and done, she felt as used as she truly was. She hadn't wanted to do any of what she had done with him, but she knew that telling him no wouldn't have been okay. It wouldn't have been safe.

When she entered her house late that night, she felt violated, but she couldn't bring herself to accept it. She had known him for so long, and just now he had been so incredibly disrespectful. How could I have been attacked even though I said yes? she asked herself. I said yes, I said yes, I said yes. I wasn't assaulted. I wasn't raped. He would never let me say that I was.

It was all disgusting. She was filled with resentment for him now, and she knew it would never leave her for as long as she lived.

She also felt incredibly bare without the ring or even the necklace.

How had she not seen any of this coming?

If there was one thing Bella had ever learned from her mother, it was that she should never date somebody who wasn't proud of her.

Bella knew that Edward wasn't proud of her now, but she wished she had known that sooner, just when he had started to fall out of love with her. After she retreated to her bedroom tonight, Bella thought about the last time Edward had been proud of her. That was the last time they had really been in love.

She had still lived in Phoenix then. It had been the May of her senior year, right before graduation, right before that freezing July, and Bella had planned on killing herself again because she had thought she was a failure. She had only applied to Dartmouth, where Edward had gotten into, but she hadn't been accepted.

Edward visited her that May when she told him how she was feeling. She didn't tell him she was suicidal—he could never let himself hear that—but she told him she needed him badly. That May, he dropped everything and visited her in Phoenix.

Renee loved Edward—Charlie, not so much. So when Charlie arrived in Phoenix for graduation just after Edward did, it took some adjusting. It was surreal for Bella—Charlie and Edward had never occupied the same space prior to this, and Charlie didn't even know how long Bella and Edward had been together. He'd still thought that Bella was hanging around Mike Newton and Jessica Stanley at this time. So Bella had to come clean about some things, but it was all for the best, as Renee promised.

Graduation was even more surreal for Bella. If she could ask her fifteen-year-old self whether or not she saw herself alive at graduation, she wouldn't have been able to say yes. But she graduated. She didn't have any immediate college plans, but she graduated and Edward was there. Edward didn't tell her, but he was proud of her.

After dinner with her family that night, Bella and Edward went to a party one of her friends—a friend she never chose—was throwing, but they couldn't handle it after being there for a maximum of ten minutes, so they took his rental car out to the middle of the Phoenix desert. All they had was a bag of weed, a laptop to watch a movie, and each other.

With the windows up, he lit her joint for her as she held it between her lips. It was somewhat romantic—one of the most romantic things he could have done for her back then.

They were quiet for a while as they watched the movie on his laptop. She didn't even pay attention; she focused more on the desert, and how the clouds were rolling in. They were about to be caught up in a thunderstorm, but she didn't want to leave. She didn't want to be anywhere, but at the same time, she wanted to be everywhere.

"Do you think I'm an absolute idiot?" she finally asked him.

He took a long drag as she waited for his response. Her eyes were watery—she wasn't sure if it was the weed or her emotions. The longer she waited, the worse it got.

"Do you?" she asked, quieter.

"Bella," he began, "I think you're brilliant. I'm always going to think you're brilliant, and I love you more than anything in this world."

"I don't belong in this world," she told him. "I don't have a place."

"You know what? Fuck Dartmouth. Fuck everyone. Fuck 'em. You are so much bigger than this, Bella. So much brighter. You don't even know it, but I do, and I know you're going to make it. You are. I'm positive of it."

Thunder boomed and lightning struck outside the car, but the inside was still.

"How do I know you're being real?" she asked.

"Trust me, baby. Trust me."

He kissed her, and she remembered it being the last time he was nervous to do it. After this, he got hard on the inside. He got tough and fearless and brave and kissing Bella was no big deal. He grew up a lot more after this, but for now, he was still spontaneous and nervous, just like she was. They were on the same level.

They made love during the desert thunderstorm. They didn't stop until the storm was long over. His laptop was dead, but they were alive.

He looked her in the eyes, and she started crying again. She finally knew where she belonged in the world. She was a real girl—a real person, not his doll that he ignored—and she belonged with him.

He was proud of her for being alive.

He remained proud of her for a little while after that. She was supposed to fly back to Forks with him in early-June. The night before their flight, he took her to her favorite park in the neighborhood, near her beloved library. In the dead of the night, they sat on the swings. She idly played with the promise ring on her necklace.

"We should get married," he said to her.

She stopped playing with her necklace, and then she stopped breathing.

"I can't," she told him. She didn't say not now or when we're older. She didn't leave her response open-ended at all. Just I can't.

He had told her that he hadn't had any hard feelings for her, and that he hadn't felt bad. He'd told her that it was okay. He had also told her to not come back to Forks with her.

It was the following July that they had frozen over. The most heartbreaking words she had ever thought in hindsight still haunted her today.

And we weren't the same after that.

"So she just broke up with you in the library?" Embry asked Jacob the next day at the beach. "Just like that?"

Jacob tossed the frisbee to him. "Just like that," he said.

"That's real harsh, bro."

"I know, huh?"

"How's it feel the be a hit-it-and-quit-it?" Quil asked. Embry threw the frisbee over to him, and then Quil threw it to Jacob.

"Feels like a million bucks," Jacob said sarcastically.

Quil ignored his tone. "I mean, you hit it a lot, too," he went on. "You hit that shit, like, fifty times over the course of a week and she quit it so fast."

"Okay, shut the hell up," Jacob said. He threw the frisbee at Embry.

"I saw her last night," Embry said. "It was weird."

"Where?" Jacob demanded.

"At my job—where the fuck else, Jake?"

"Was she with anyone?"

"Yeah, she was with this white guy with reddish hair. She doesn't have any siblings, does she?"

"She said I don't fucking know her," Jacob said bitterly, reflecting on her words, "so I wouldn't know, but I doubt it."

"Well, they were there."

"Did you hear what they were talking about?"

"I was trying to do my job, actually," Embry said, "so no."

"Wow, thanks a lot. You're a real fuckin' pal."

"Chill out."

"Yeah, Jake," Quil said. "She's just some ho, anyway. That was probably her ex that she's so fuckin' in love with. You know how that shit goes."

Jacob just sighed. Jesus Christ, he thought. I get something good and I lose it right away. What the fuck?

"Whatever," he said. "Good fuckin' riddance."

Jacob was at work at the reservation convenience store the next day when the heartbreak started to settle in. What had he done wrong? Okay, well, Bella had told him that in the library, but why had she gotten so mad? Okay, so he knew that, too.

I'm a fucking idiot, he thought.

He wanted to find her and apologize, but Bella was so beyond him. She was the type to disappear once she decided not be around someone anymore. He'd never see her again at this rate. Even if she didn't accept his apology—and why should she? He was a fucking idiot who was way too immature for her—he just wanted her to know that he was sorry. That was all. He could do the kindergarten thing and have his dad pass a note to Charlie and then have Charlie pass it to Bella, but Jacob wasn't sure if he was that desperate yet.

I need a rewind button, he decided.

He was fantasizing about going back to the beginning and treating Bella right so he'd still have a chance of having her. He was so lost in his own thoughts that the only customer that afternoon at the store had to tap Jacob's shoulder to get his attention.

Jacob blinked and focused again. The customer was a tall white guy with reddish hair. Jacob didn't know exactly if this guy was Bella's ex, and he didn't really care, either. What was he gonna do—beat him up for being better than him? But Bella had said her ex had treated her poorly. She'd even compared Jacob to the guy. If she had really gone back to this guy—who was already bad—then that said a lot about Jacob.

So Jacob didn't say anything. If this was really her ex, then there were just two awful people occupying the store. Amazing. But it was a white guy with red hair—it could have been anybody from around here, so Jacob wasn't gonna worry about it. He knew Bella was pretty and smart enough to find somebody better. Hopefully, she'd finally stop hating herself and do that. All he could do was pray for her.

A/N: Up next: the real dawn of true feminine camaraderie.

Take care,

HS