29. CROSSROADS

For three weeks, Edward and Bella spent their existence never leaving one another's side. They had the felicity of hunting together for the first time, for which Edward had some tips to share. It had been a long time since Bella had hunted, and not had take-out. He could not help but be proud of her the first time he saw her take down a mountain lion, saying, "That's my girl."

However, when not eating, the majority of time was spent in Edward's bedroom. They had a great many months of loneliness and despair to make up for. At first it struck Bella that vampires must be insatiable, as they did not sleep, and there was an entire night to fill. And although lovemaking did make up a fair percentage of their time, Edward also played long into the night for her at the piano, or read to her from his expansive collection of classical books. She already knew the stories practically by heart, but thrilled just to hear his voice.

The last two days were mostly spent packing, and watching the human movers take out the last of the belongings. Try as she might, Bella could not help but look upon this change with apprehension. This was to be her first move with Edward's family, where she would live permanently. As yet, Edward and she had not discussed plans for the future, and during this time while on vacation, she didn't want to think of it.

But now, the holiday over, reality set in. She would have gladly accepted whatever they proposed as long as she was with Edward. She didn't care. An eternity of high school? No problem, so long as Edward could always be her lab partner. That thought made her smile, thinking back to Mr. Banner's class, and how different it would be with both of them willingly accepting monotony as the price to pay for the style of life they wanted: a semi-human existence where they weren't the things that went bump in the night.

"Well," Edward said as the moving van drove away, "are you about ready to leave?"

She turned to him, feeling anxious. "Not yet, Edward. Before we leave, there's something I've got to do."

"Oh? What's that?" he asked, turning on his bedroom eyes, and smiling his crooked grin.

"Not that!" she said, laughing and giving him a playful smack. Sighing deeply, she said, "I need to see Charlie."

All impishness cast aside, Edward replied, "I don't think that's such a good idea, Bella. You don't look the same as you used to, and it's not just your eyes."

"I didn't say he needed to see me. I said I needed to see him."

There was no hiding that he didn't like the idea. It was not a question of her self-control. It was evident from watching her on the small confines of the plane that the Volturi had taught her a great deal. He was merely hung up over the details that could go wrong. What if Charlie saw her? What if she made a mistake? There was just too many variables, but as he saw the determination on her face, he knew he could give no argument that would deter her. "Alright, but I go with you."

"No way," she said resolutely. "He's my dad, Edward, and I haven't seen him in months. I get to do this alone. Have some faith in me."

"I do have faith in you," he replied, knowing that she was, of course, perfectly right, and that his hyper-anxiety was trying to master the situation. "Alright, then. Have it your way."

Bella smiled, and looked up into the night sky. "You know, there are still a few hours before I'll head to Forks. Hmm... What to do with a few free hours?"

Impish smile returning onto Edward's face, he asked, "Kitchen counter or livingroom floor?"

"Kitchen, of course. It never got enough use, anyway."

After one final naked frolic around the empty house, they shut up its windows and doors, locking it. Bella had never had much attachment to houses before. Renée, the roving gypsy, was forever moving from place to place, determined to never put down roots. Bella had considered herself of much the same stock, until now. She had so many memories of the big, old house. It was where her life truly started, as well as ended. She was unwilling to say goodbye.

"Don't be sad, Bella. Who knows? In sixty, seventy years, maybe we'll come back to it."

"It just looks so lonely, all shut up and empty. I wish it didn't have to end."

He pulled her close to him, caressing her long hair. He understood what she was feeling, for he had similar sentiments. This was where it had all begun for him. A life of tedium and pointlessness beforehand, only to alter the second he first saw her. His life was never the same after that, and there wasn't a moment spent that he wasn't grateful for that fact.

When the time had come for each to say a last goodbye, they then drove away from the old Cullen house, toward Forks and Charlie. It was already late by Charlie's standards, 12:30. Late enough that Bella knew he would be in bed fast asleep. Regardless, Edward stopped the car down the street, just as a precaution.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go in there with you?" he asked again, hoping that she would change her mind.

"I'm sure," she said, crushing his hopes. "I won't be long." She opened the car door, and stepped out.

"Wait, Bella!" he said, calling her back. "How are you going to get in?"

"Front door."

"It squeaks," he said, shaking his head. "Try your bedroom window."

"Oh. Alright," Bella said, suddenly feeling less confident. Her room was all the way up on the second story. However, she wouldn't dare give Edward the pleasure of proving that she needed his help, and so quietly shut the car door, and crept around to the side of the house.

Standing neath the window, she gazed up, unsure of how to even attempt such a feat. Thinking a good jump to be her best bet, she sprang up, catching the windowsill easily. She wouldn't have thought it possible to hang there, effortlessly holding onto a thin piece of wood, while sliding up the sash with a free hand. It slid open easily, and she slipped in as though she had done it a thousand times.

Rising up off the floor, she gazed about her old room that she had not visited in so many months. The last time she had entered it, she was human, late for work, not to mention still a virgin. She was altogether a different person now, and not only because she was a vampire. Killing people had a way of changing a person.

The room appeared to have been frozen in time, for her bed still lay unmade, as though she had only just been sleeping in it. CD's littered the floor, as well as her copy of Wuthering Heights, the post-it note bookmark still tucked between the pages. And then, it suddenly dawned on her the eerie feeling the room emitted. It spoke of a death. Not as though a corpse lay rotting under her bed, but death in that the room lay perfectly untouched, a monument to her life. Of course Charlie had not wanted to touch her things, hoping and praying that she would one day come home. But she never would, and her belongings were his only reminder that she had ever lived there at all.

An ocean of guilt washing over her, she shook her head, trying to focus on her purpose. She had wanted some things that she had missed, and grabbing an old knapsack from the closet, chose some items that she didn't think Charlie would notice missing. A wad of cash from the back of her underwear drawer, as well as a handful of underwear while she was at it, the tattered copy of Wuthering Heights (it smelt like home), her camera, and the blue blouse that Edward loved. She tossed the bag out the window, and then strode to her door, opening it carefully.

Charlie's snores were the unmistakable sign of his being asleep, but curiously, he was not in his bedroom. She stepped carefully down the stairs, expertly skipping the squeaky steps. Charlie sat in his favourite chair in the livingroom, and upon seeing him, Bella thought she may prove that vampires can cry yet.

In her absence, he had moved the old computer downstairs beside his chair on a makeshift table, and it still sat humming, the screensaver bouncing balls across the screen. She gazed down at him, the only light coming from the blue screen. He appeared to have aged in the months she was away, having more wrinkles around his eyes and forehead than she remembered, not to mention grey hair. She longed to wake him and hug him, let him know that she was alright and well looked after. That she was loved, and wanted. That she would be alright, forever. But, remembering her promise to Edward, she merely stood there, glad to be with him, even if he had no knowledge of it.

Shivering in his sleep, he turned over, the chair bumping into the table, causing the screensaver to snap off, restoring the screen. Bella's cold heart could not but fall at what she saw. It was his Hotmail account, and every email there was addressed from her, the last being two weeks ago, and the others before them, fairly spaced out. Had he been waiting to hear from her? Checking all night in the vain hope that she would write?

"Oh, Charlie," she whispered, and picked up an afghan from the sofa, draping it over him. She longed to touch him, and make him real. If she could only feel him, then this wouldn't be some remorseful living-dream, but reality. Building her courage, she reached over, placing her hand on his. Instantly, he shuddered again, snatching his hand away, but not waking.

She had forgotten. Yes, her hands would feel like ice to him. Perhaps it was better this way after all: the email, and lack of contact. He would not like her the way she was now. The way she could not change, no matter how much he may wish it of her.

"Good bye, Dad," she whispered at last, and silently retreated back up to her old bedroom. Opening the door, she should not have been surprised to see Edward sitting on her old bed, as he had always done in days gone by. He rose, and she bolted to him, appreciative of his enveloping embrace.

"I'm sorry Bella," he said, sighing and kissing her on the forehead. "I wish there was some way I could make this less painful for you."

"I know you do," she said, burying her face in his chest. But she knew there was no way. She would simply have to miss both Charlie and Renée for the rest of their lives, and well after their deaths. There was no happy ending here.

"It shouldn't have been like this..."

She shook her head, and turned to look up at him. His beautiful, perfect face looked sadly down at hers. "I don't regret, you know. I intended this to happen, remember? I made my choice long ago, and even considering everything that has happened, I would do it over again. As much as it hurts now, and will for a long time, I don't regret becoming what I now am. They are my past. You are my future. Forever."

His lip trembled, and he kissed her passionately while pulling her closer still. Several minutes passed in which they simply held each other, unwilling to move or let go. After those minutes and Bella was recovered, she knew it was time to leave. This house was no longer her home.

Edward allowed her to jump first, as he had mastered how to silently pull down the pane without it smashing. Back in the comfort of the Volvo, her knapsack at her feet, Bella took one last glance from the right-hand mirror of her old life. "Alright, Edward," she said, smiling. "Let's go home." The engine purred to life, and without delay or regret, they drove off down the road toward a new future in Oregon.

Charlie, meanwhile, started awake. He could have sworn he had heard car doors slam. He gazed about the darkened room, and wondered at how the afghan had mysteriously found its way onto him. He never used it. Checking his email one final time before bed, he clicked the mouse: no mail from Bella. His aching heart sank. "Maybe tomorrow," he said aloud to himself, and rose his tired bones out of the chair, stretching them. When had he become an old man? he wondered. As he yawned, he stopped dead, and breathed in deeply the air around him. He would know that scent anywhere, and its sudden appearance along with the afghan startled him so much that he ran to the window, throwing back the curtains.

No car.

Skipping up the squeaky steps two at a time, he opened her bedroom door, where more of her scent seemed to linger. But the room was forlornly empty, as it had been for many months. He sat down on her bed, as he usually did when he was missing her, and cried well into the night.