A/N:

Happy New Year, everyone. Thank you for your response to the last chapter. Yes, there is light!

A few words on timelines, hallucinations, and unreliable narrators (some of this has come up in reviews):

Time: At times in the last few chapters, Edward has either been very depressed, sick, or both. He has lost the sense of time, and as your narrator, he has lost many of you, as well. Also, a few chapters ago, Jasper said to Edward that it has been a difficult couple of months for him. Jasper was referring to the last few months since meeting Bella. There have been several conversations between the two of them where Jasper and he talked about the return of PTSD since Bella's arrival in Edward's life. One point in particular is when Edward breaks into his office post Valium-gate. I can see how the comment about the couple of months proved confusing for some of you. Edward and Bella broke up the first week of December.

Hallucinations: At this point, we do not know for sure what is real and what is a hallucination, because Edward does not know. I'll give you a hint—Bella was NOT in her underwear at his condo. The truth will become apparent.

Unreliable Narrators: From the beginning of the story, Edward has been an unreliable narrator. We are seeing things play out from the perspective of an insecure, at times delusional, avoidant, PTSD sufferer. We are reading HIS perception of the world. The way he interprets people and events are just that, his interpretation. An unreliable narrator is part of the fun, mystery, and sometimes frustration, but it is a key part of the POV journey for the reader.

Thanks to everyone, especially Sunshine (aka Tess_Underground) and Orangeapeal for pre-reading and editing this chapter.

Warning: on a scale of 1-10, the angst in this chapter reaches 12.

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From Chapter Thirty-five:

I jump to my feet and run for the stairs.

-Shower

-Dress

-Go after her

My feet trip up the stairs, and I slip down four steps. I'm dizzy and tired, but it doesn't matter; I get into the shower as quickly as I can.

God, are you with me? Are we good? Can you help? I need your help.

Chapter Thirty-six
Cold

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I loop a belt through my favorite jeans, now too large to stay on my hips.

I'm tired and my brain is foggy, so I keep repeating my singular mission:

Must go to Bella. God, help me get to Bella.

The first sweater in the drawer my hand lands on is the one I put on—simple, black.

Must go to Bella. God, help me get to Bella.

To put on my shoes, I sit on the edge of my bed. I'm so tired. Closing my eyes, I fall back to get a few minutes of rest…

… I open my eyes and look around. It's dark outside. The sour taste in my mouth tells me I've fallen asleep for hours, but at least I feel strong again.

Must go to Bella. God, help me get to Bella.

I brush my teeth and curse this unruly beard, but there is no time to shave.

As I run downstairs, I hear a knock on the door.

Please, God. Maybe she's back.

I comb my fingers through my hair and take a deep breath as I unlock the bolts on the door that keep me safe.

The doorknob feels cold as I look through the peephole. It is not Bella who stands in the hallway, but another familiar face.

"Detective Jenks?" I ask, opening the door.

"Edward Masen? Boy, you've grown up."

He looks older, but still younger than I imagined he would. His black hair is thinner, but he still has a hard face with compassionate green eyes, and an aquiline nose. He must have been young when he first took my parents' case.

I stand staring at him in the doorway for several moments, remembering my daily trips to see him, and wanting to help him solve the murders, until he called Carlisle to stop me.

"May I come in, Edward?"

"Of course," I mutter, stepping aside to grant him entrance, then walking him to the living room.

"I was going to wait until after the weekend to check in on you—surprised I found you home, to be honest—but I couldn't wait."

Check on me?

This is not a hallucination, I tell myself. I feel well and clear-minded.

"Detective Jenks, I'm sorry, but I don't know what you are doing here."

He gives me a quizzical look. I'm sure he sees the confusion in my eyes.

"Edward… um, Mr. Masen…"

"Edward, please."

"You do know a woman by the name of Bella Swan?"

Oh, Jesus. My knees buckle and I drop to the chair behind me.

"Oh, my God. What happened? Something happened to her?"

"No, no, no…" Immediately he's next to me.

"She's okay?"

"Yes, she's fine. I didn't mean to give you a scare."

I bury my face in my hands and pull myself away from the darkest thought—a wounded Bella… or worse.

"Detective Jenks, please tell me what you are doing here."

He pulls up a chair, and faces me. "When did you last speak with Ms. Swan?"

"I don't know… about a month ago."

"I thought she was coming to see you this week."

How does he know this?

"Yes, she did. I mean, she tried, but I've been sick. We didn't talk."

My head throbs with confusion.

"I see." He takes a moment, then continues in a detective's tone. "Are you aware that Ms. Swan and her father, Chief Charlie Swan, contacted me a little over two months ago?"

"No."

I concentrate on absorbing everything he tells me.

"Chief Swan asked for the files on your parents' case. I agreed."

I keep my eyes to the floor and nod, urging him to continue.

"In the past month, Ms. Swan has been working to solve your parents' case. She had her father run the bit of evidence we had—the partial fingerprints. I didn't think it would come to anything, but Edward… she found the men who killed your parents."

The wind leaves me and I can barely speak, "What…? Who?"

"It's no one you know. No one from your parents' company," he says, knowing I always suspected them.

"Before your parents' homicides, they were two petty burglars—not even in the system. But a couple of years ago, they had another break-in that also resulted in the homeowner's homicide."

I am now numb. Simply listening to him talk as if I'm hearing it on the television set.

"They are currently serving sentences at NORCO—it's a prison in Oregon… Mr. Masen, are you still with me?"

I meet his eyes and nod.

"Can I get you a glass of water…? Call someone?"

I shake my head, "Please, continue."

"Ms. Swan posed as a law student and was granted an interview."

"What?" I spit out, enraged that she put herself in danger.

"I know. She did this on her own. Neither her father nor I were too pleased. But, I'll hand it to her, she asked exactly what we needed without jeopardizing the investigation. She knew exactly what she was doing."

I stand and begin to pace, unable to digest the vision of Bella sitting across from men who murdered my mom and dad.

"Edward," Jenks stands too, "sit down. I have more to tell you."

Unable to be still, I sit and bounce my knees.

"Three days ago, I got a confession. The case is closed, Edward, it's done."

"It's done…? Will there be a trial?"

"It doesn't look like the DA will bring this to trial. One of the men is weaker, more of an accomplice. He's willing to testify against the other for a reduced sentence. You should know, Ms. Swan watched the interrogation from the observation room. Really, she solved the case…"

Jenks goes on about his guilt and how the case always haunted him, but I can't focus on his confession; I'm still with Bella in my mind.

That's where you've been, Bella?

"…Samuel King will likely get a sentence of…"

I'm yanked back into the conversation. "What did you say?"

"Samuel King, he's the accomplice. The man who murdered your parents is…"

"Royce," I breathe.

He falls back into the chair, stunned. "How did you know?"

"I don't know."

It's a truth I've always had, but never knew. Carlisle telling me about my dream—The King, Rolls Royce—so familiar. I begin to cough as I gasp for air and try to fuse together fractured images.

Jenks gets me a glass of water and I drink, think, calm myself, and pray: Dear God in Heaven, give me my memory. Help me find peace.

"I have photographs of the men."

He takes out his briefcase, but I stop him.

"No, don't. Please." I stand and begin to pace again, this time allowing myself to fall back away into that night. "I think I remember…"

I look over to Jenks. From his briefcase, he takes out a recorder.

"I was in my parents bedroom, watching TV with them. We heard the crash downstairs…"

It's the same memory I always run from, but somehow different this time.

"My dad grabbed me by my wrist and pulled me into my bedroom. He told me to lock my door and get under the bed. 'Don't make a sound' he said. I got under the bed, but…" I look up to Jenks, now remembering, "I forgot to lock the door."

I swallow and continue, finding the strength to speak. "My eyes kept going from the shadows under the door to the doorknob… waiting for it to open."

In my mind, I remember shoving my fingers between the bed and the wooden slat of the frame, my scars come alive with phantom pain at the memory.

"Oh, Jesus." My mouth drops, and I cover it with my hand.

"What it is."

"He came into my room—I remember now. The doorknob turned, I watched his feet walk to me… he bent down and saw me."

Jenks eyes widen.

"I looked right into his eyes." I put my finger to my lips, gesturing to be quiet, the way he did when he saw me. "He left the room and shut the door. Oh, dear God."

I sit down again, trying to remember more.

"What did he look like?" Jenks asks.

"Large, round face. Blue eyes, blond hair."

Jenks pulls a photo from his briefcase. "Would you like to see him?"

I nod and take the photo. As soon as I glance at it, I know it is he. "King? Samuel King?"

"Yes," Jenks watches me warily.

I look at the second photo. There is no recollection, but looking at the man who killed my parents floors me.

"Did Bella talk to this man?"

"No, Edward."

"Good. Good."

I sit for several minutes trying to remember why I know their names, but I have no other new memories.

"I'm so, so sorry Detective Jenks. I can't remember anything else, and I don't know why I forgot."

I am sixteen again, confused and sad in this man's presence.

"It's okay, Edward. Blocking of memories under such duress is common. You don't have torture yourself anymore, the case is closed."

His words tell me that he knows; he's always known what this did to me.

"I'll be in touch in a few days, but I'd like to call someone for you before I go. Should I call Ms. Swan?"

Must go to Bella. God, help me get to Bella.

"I… I…"

No, not Bella. Not yet.

"Do you know if the Cullens know about this yet?"

"I believe she was contacting them. Can I call for you?

"No, that's okay. I need a few minutes alone, then I'll call Carlisle."

Detective Jenks stands, but it's clear he's apprehensive about leaving me. I do my best at convincing him that I'm fine, but I am not sure I am.

After he leaves, I pace and pull my hair, as the weight of consequence crushes my bones.

God in Heaven, what is the purpose of forgetting?

I think about how my life would have been different. How I could have provided peace for so many. Then I remember that Royce and King went on to kill again.

Oh, Jesus.

I grab my keys and wallet and, fueled by adrenaline, take the steps downstairs to the lobby.

"Mr. Masen, when did you get back in town?" Carlton asks.

"I've been here," I mutter and ask for the phone.

I dial Carlisle's number and get his voicemail. "Hey, Carlisle, it's Edward… I… we need to talk." I refrain from saying anything specific in case he doesn't know.

I call Jasper next. "Jasper it's Edward, I really need… never mind."

I hang up the phone. I don't want to leave a panicked message. He can't return the call, so I decide to fuck it and go to his place to find him.

As I head to the door, Carlton calls out, "Happy New Year, Mr. Masen."

I stop and turn. "New Year's?"

"Yes, sir. It's New Year's Eve."

"Okay, thanks. You too."

"A coat?" He calls to me, as I break into the nighttime cold.

No time for a coat.

Logic has left me. I only need to run—to Jasper, to Bella, to all those who love me and can help me, for I am truly lost.

Help me, God.

I run to Jasper's, but find the condo dark and empty.

Searching for a cab proves useless, so I continue on, walking to Bella's. From the street, I can see all of the lights off in there as well.

Feeling weak, I continue to aimlessly walk through the empty, familiar streets of my city, somehow believing that if I stop, the barrage of memories and thoughts assaulting my mind will kill me.

The Samuel King in my room

My mother's cry

Bella's face as I set the alarm on my watch…

So many thoughts slip in and out. I have no way to hold onto any one of them.

I walk along the water until I reach Virginia Street, a few blocks away from my second home.

The noise from the crowd at Kell's reaches the street a full block away.

I walk in to find a maze made of people—bodies packed together, laughing, and talking—I push through, finding a path to get to the bar.

"Edward!" Riley calls out a greeting from behind the bar. He is in a furious dance, making drinks, taking money, tossing out empty bottles of hard alcohol. Others are with him, but this is his big show. I get dizzy just watching his pace. Even if I could get his attention, I don't know what I'd say.

He looks up at me again, never stopping his movements, and yells above the crowd, "You look wrecked. Where've you been?"

"I'm not drunk," I call back, but I don't think he can hear me.

I'm not even sure I know what I'm doing here. I push against the crowd, making my way to my typical seat at the end of the bar. Of course, it's occupied, but I can press my back against the wall and gather myself.

Okay, Edward, you need to get home. You aren't finding anyone tonight. You need to:

-Sleep
-Call Carlisle and Jasper in the morning
-Find Bella

I press the back of my head against the cold wall and close my eyes to shut out the nauseating kaleidoscope of people in front of me. Several times, I swear I fall asleep, only to be awoken again by the sound of a drunken patron's noisemaker.

Someone I don't know presses a glass in my hand. I see Riley encouraging me to drink from behind the bar.

It is cold and sweet—ginger ale. No alcohol, thank God. With each sip, I feel my wilted body strengthening, my mind clarifying. It is enough sugar to carry me the several blocks home.

Oh, to be transported home. Dear Lord, if there were ever a time for transport…

I wait, but nothing comes, ensuring that all of this is real.

When my drink is done, I feel like myself again.

Slipping between tight bodies, I find my way to the door. The cold air comes in shards ripping at my face.

When did it start snowing?

I take a deep breath that scratches my lungs and cough until I can stand straight again.

One foot in front of the other, I step away from the bar into the dark. The streets are barren with the exception of a few people I can make out walking towards me.

They walk in a straight-line—a wall—two couples.

New Year's Eve is for lovers and I wish I had mine.

They walk as slowly as I do, one with a cane.

"Edward?" Jasper's voice calls to me.

Jesus, give me strength. It is Jasper and Alice… and my Bella with another man. I glance at him, but it's not the man I expect, not Jacob, but another.

I straighten up and siphon every atom of energy to aid my performance.

"Hey, gang," I say when we're face to face.

Bella and the man are to my left. I cannot look at them. Instead I keep my eyes on Jasper and Alice.

"When did you get back in town?" Jasper asks, annoyed and confused.

"Um, I don't know," I say, unable to waste energy on questions, unwilling to unravel with the truth. "Look at you, Tiny Tim," I say to Alice with a smile, "you said you would be walking, and look at you now."

"Happy New Year, Edward," her voice is quiet and sympathetic.

"This is my friend from graduate school, Garrett. He's just in town for the weekend," Jasper says, overemphasizing each word. "I invited him to come out with us tonight."

I nod and force a smile, giving a firm handshake. He's tall and handsome, wearing a proper wool car coat, a scarf and gloves. The snowflakes fall to my black sweater and collect on my shoulders.

He's a real man. An adult.

"Hi Edward," Bella says tenderly, grabbing my forearm with her gloved hand.

"Hey, Happy New Year, Bella." I avoid her eyes and shove my hands in my pockets.

There is a voiceless moment where the awkward air slices me open for all to see.

"We were going in for a nightcap. It's almost midnight, come with us." Jasper tries to grab my shoulder, but I roll away.

"Nah, thanks. I'm heading home. Good to see you all."

I step to the side, but Jasper side steps with me, blocking my escape.

"I'll walk with you," he says. "I'll meet back up with you all later."

Their response is quick and reeks of artificial zeal.

"No, please. I'm fine. I'll call you tomorrow morning," I grab onto Jasper's upper arm and beg him with my eyes to free me from this moment.

"I can walk you," he says quietly, like we're the only ones here.

"No, but thank you. Tomorrow, I promise." I mutter, "Good night," and walk past the four of them.

I attempt to quicken my stagger when I hear the exchange of words, and then the click, click, click of Bella's heels behind me.

"Edward, wait."

I take a few more steps then stop, because I don't want Bella to run in heels.

She places her hands on my back, and I slowly turn around.

She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Her face is fuller, but still heart-shaped with her adorable pointed chin. Bella's warm brown eyes are even larger than I remember. I watch the wisps of warm breath hit the cold air as her full lips speak quickly.

"I just met him tonight. I swear… they dragged me out. I didn't want to come."

"It's okay," I say, and it is. Now that she is here, I have no care for the man walking with my friends into the bar.

"I… I stopped by a couple of times. I left some notes... I guess you were away." There's pain in her eyes that only I can remedy.

"I miss you, Bella."

She gasps; her eyes soften and I know she still loves me. "I miss you, too."

I can barely speak. It takes everything I have to drink in the vision of her, to listen to her quiet, musical voice.

"You must be freezing," she says and takes off her white scarf, wrapping it twice around my neck.

It is my lifesaver and my noose. I swallow the scent of her—the scent of happier times. Spring with my parents—lily of the valley, hyacinths. My mother's herb garden, rosemary and mint, the smell of fresh cut grass, courtesy of my father… and Bella, clean and pure.

I have no words.

"This looks soft," she says, removing one glove and touching my beard. "It makes your lips look soft."

Ten, nine, eight…

We hear the New Year's countdown from the crowds in the bars that line the street.

"We have a lot to talk about," she says, worry returning to her face.

I nod, knowing I need to say something, anything.

God, give me words.

six, five, four…

I dare to take my hands from my pockets and hold her velvet-soft face.

"Happy New Year, Bella," I whisper.

I lift her chin and lean in close.

"Happy New Year, Edward." Her warm breath washes over me.

Happy New Year! Is shouted from behind the walls around us.

I lick my lips to warm them for her, and press them gently to her supple mouth. She tastes of every happiness I've ever known. Pulling away, I press my forehead to hers and breathe her in again.

One more…

I run my hands to her neck, feeling her jaw under my thumbs, and brush my cheek against hers until I find her mouth again. It is a single, soft kiss—just a morsel of her.

Bella's arms reach around me.

I want one more kiss…

I suck her bottom lip between my lips and run my tongue back and forth over the smooth, plump skin.

Is this too good to be real?

Bella slides her tongue into my mouth and she deepens the kiss, pulling my head closer.

I want to feel her skin… my salve…

My fingers fight to untie the belt of her coat.

We are pushing and pulling each other into the alley.

Just one touch…

My legs wobble with lust or fever, I no longer know.

She is up against the wall, and I am searching for skin. My hands run around her waist, under her coat, hoping to find the sliver of flesh between skirt and blouse.

"Edward, wait…"

I listen. I stop.

"Your skin…" I say into her ear as I press my hands against the brick wall.

"Edward, you're warm…"

Taking her into my arms, I kiss her again. I am clumsy and dizzy, swaying her with me in the alley.

"We're dancing, Bella," I say, smiling and swinging her in circles with me.

"Baby, we should stop."

I try to stop, but the momentum of the spin is too great.

I stumble and slam my back into something metal. The pain is searing, like an aluminum bat whacked across my ribs.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I fall to the ground, pulling Bella with me.

A dumpster. I'm leaning against a dumpster.

I clamp down my jaw, to stop myself from yelling in pain.

Did I hurt Bella?

Blinking open my eyes, I see Bella on her knees straddling my stretched out legs.

Her mouth is moving, but I can't make out all of her words over the ringing in my ears.

She pulls her glove off with her teeth. Her hands are on my face—she looks terrified.

"Edward, Edward," she gently slaps my face, making my vision clearer with each touch.

I watch her pat down her coat pockets, then burrow into her purse hunting for something. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip, as I make out her saying, "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck."

She turns her head towards the street, her chest rises with a deep inhale, then she screams for Jasper. The veins in her neck pop as she screams again.

I'm so cold.

I haven't felt the cold all night, but now the arctic temperature chills me to my bones.

I find the strength to speak. "Did I hurt you?"

She shakes her head back and forth, her mouth saying, "No." I still can't hear her.

Bella grabs at my arms, touches my face, her hands are everywhere.

"Did I hurt you?" I ask again.

Her eyes fill with tears. Maybe I did.

Bella holds a finger up and says something with great urgency, but I don't know what it is.

And then she is gone.

I'm alone. I think I hurt my Bella.

I try to stand, but I can't. I scoot myself along the dumpster toward the back of the alley.

If I hurt Bella, I should hide.

I curl myself into a ball between the dumpster and the brick wall.

The cold pain in my body and heart is so great, that I want to disappear, to die.

"No, you don't."

That voice.

I blink several times, disbelieving the sight before my eyes. Sitting across from me with his legs out stretched, dressed in a camel colored wool coat, and a Fedora hat with gloves…

"Dad?"

"Happy New Year, son."

"What are you…"

"You need to get up, son. They're looking for you."

I hear Jasper's voice calling out, "Edward!" The sound reverberates off of the buildings.

"Jasper," I call back in a weak voice.

"Again, Edward," my father instructs me.

"Jasper." It's no use, his calls sound further away.

I turn my attention to where it wants to be. "Are you taking me home, Dad?"

"No, Edward." He shakes his head, looking as young and handsome as I remember. "Think about what you are saying."

"I don't want to die."

"Good. You have too much left to do—it's not your time. You need to be with Bella."

"You know Bella?"

"Of course," he says, his calm fascinating me. "She's as strong as your mother."

"I thought you were the strong one."

He chuckles. "Fooled you."

"Where's Mom?" I want my mom.

"She's here." He looks up and gives a half smile as if he sees her standing between us. "She thought you'd want to come with us if you saw her."

"But I do. I miss you both so much."

"We're always with you, Edward," I hear my mother's voice in my ear.

"Mom, Dad, are you really here?"

My father smirks. "That really doesn't matter, now does it?"

"Did I hurt Bella?"

"No, but you will if you don't help yourself."

"What should I do?"

"Hang on, Edward. They will find you, but you need to hang on."

"Okay." Black ink spills into my peripheral vision. "Will you stay with me?"

"We're right here," my father says.

"Always," my mother adds.

For a moment, I let the black ink envelope me. It is a warm dark sea I float in, before I swim my way to the surface where is it cold and painful. I take a breath and drift in the warmth again.

I swim this way for what feels like an eternity—a breath of cold pain and a sink into peace—my mother, my father, and my Creator always with me.

"Jesus Christ."

A crash of broken glass lands next to me. I struggle to open my eyes to the orange and pink dawn sky.

"Edward, Edward, hang on," Riley's panicked voice is with me. "Molly! I found him. Call 9-1-1!"

Please stay with me.

"I'm here, buddy. People have been looking for you all night."

I dip back into the black and feel a coat placed over me. Riley's hands are rubbing my body, heating me. The sound of sirens is like the music of heaven.

"That's my son," my father says, proudly.

It is the last thing I hear.

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I will be with you again in about a week.

Warm regards,

Liz x