Chapter 29

Bella

April 2002

I can't breathe, or see, or feel. Everything is bare. I've finally done it. I left Edward with no other choice but to hate me. He's been so enduring, so understanding, so uncomplaining. Not anymore.

My intentions were never to hurt Edward. I had no intentions at all. I don't love Jake. He's a friend, and he kissed me first. I should have stopped him. I should have told Jake no, but I didn't. I didn't stop him, and now I've broken Edward.

"Your boyfriend is looking," Jake had said. My heart fell, but if I'm being completely honest, I already knew Edward was there; I felt him.

Being around Jake is so simple. Edward hated it, but he doesn't know how good it feels to be free around someone other than him. He wouldn't understand. No, his understanding would have run dry if I ever told him those words. I know Jake and his friends are trouble. Jacob Black knows I'm sad, but he ignores it. That's the point: he doesn't treat me like I'm a bubble, flimsy and fragile. It makes ignoring his troubles easy to overlook, too. Jake and I speak on the phone almost every night before I meet Edward at the window. I know Jake well, and he isn't like his friends. But I could never tell that to Edward.

My relationship with my boyfriend has been so sporadic and unpredictable lately. His family hates me, and mine hates him. They don't hate us. They only hate us together. But I love him so much. Love is usually enough, and this wasn't intentional.

Now I look at Edward's face. My heart shatters and falls to the ground. I can feel the darkness surround me. I wish so badly I could make it go away, but I can't. I can't make this go away. Any of it. I can't fix my brain. Even though I fuck everything up because of it. So I stand here with cold blood and hard skin, looking into the eyes of the one person I love more than myself. I can feel his disappointment and heartache.

Can he feel mine?

Does he even care?

I'm so ashamed.

"You wound me. You have wounded me, Bella," Edward whispers before turning his back on me.

My tears fall, and I don't bother to stop them. They're a permanent fixture. I'm always crying … but this time I am crying. I'm crying because my heart hurts and my blood is thick. Oh, I hate myself for this. My lips burn from the kiss of somebody wrong. The bond between Edward and me stretches so tight it threatens to snap. I want to pull it back. I'm calling for him, but Jake is rocking me steady. Edward continues to walk, extending our tie until it finally breaks. Just like that, everything collapses and darkness consumes.

"Jake, let me go!" I scream, hating his hands. I hate his hold, and his lips, and his touch.

I run, but Edward's out of sight.

I run all the way home, as fast as my feet will carry me. Tears run down my face, fall over my lips, and blur my vision. By the time I reach his house my lips are purple and my hair is stuck to my face. I pound, pound, pound, but no one answers. So I pound, pound, pound some more. My knuckles split and bleed.

"Edward, please," I beg, cry, and scream.

He ignores, declines, and refuses.

I run toward the side of the house. Alice chases after me. "Bella, stop!"

I can't. I can't fucking stop. Edward storms out of the back door, disregarding me entirely. He heads toward the shed he built with the help of my father last year. He grabs the sledge hammer. I'm asking him to listen. Maybe if he listens, he'll forgive me.

Edward shakes me off of his arm. Alice is running toward my house, screaming for my dad.

"As you're falling, my heart beats the same," Edward whispers with puffy red eyes. He walks past me.

I pull on his sweater and dig my feet into the driveway. Edward stops where we pressed our hands into my dad's wet cement. Where we committed our love permanently—two hands and a heart.

He smashes it.

"No!" I scream, watching him ruin our cement.

I grab at his back, but he pushes me away. He hits our heart again. The concrete breaks, splinters, and shatters.

"Now I'm screaming, can you forgive me? I treated you badly, but I'm still here!" My words are sob-torn and cry-ripped, but it isn't working. Begging isn't working. I'm on my knees, pleading. Surrendering.

He laughs. "Now you wish you meant something." He hits our hands with the hammer. "Now you mean something to somebody else."