Chapter: 37

"Here you are again, Edward, losing girls to me. Just face facts, I'm the better guy. Heck, your own team pulled me here from the White Sox because they know I am better than you!"

I feel the anger build up as I look at them.

"What—no, that's not ... What?" I look at Bella.

"That's not what this was. You see, I have your necklace I was bringing it to you," Bella says as she holds it up. I look at it, shocked that she has it.

"You've had it this whole time?"

Bella's face pales, and she nods her head at me.

"So what was this, some fucking game for you? I told you about it—everything about it—and you said nothing about having it!"

James laughs as Bella shakes her head. "Please just listen ..."

I snatch the necklace from her. "I take it this was you just wanting your fifteen minutes of fame—just like Tanya, another fucking stalker fan. I'm so fucking glad that I never went all the way with you. No doubt, you'd end up selling the story to the highest fucking bidder. I hope you enjoy fucking prick-boy here because you no longer have me!" I say with as much hate as I can.

"You can have her. I really don't fucking care anymore," I say to James before walking away to the sound of Bella's sobs.

I put the necklace on as soon as I get in the car and head home. I walk in my house and my anger pours out. I end up smashing up my apartment before drinking myself into a peaceful alcohol-induced stupor.

I wake the next morning with a shitty hangover and a headache from hell. I hear a knock on the door, and I go to answer it. The mailman is standing there with a package I have to sign for. I assume it is the stupid child support papers, and I quickly sign it. I close the door and sit on the sofa. I open the thickly padded manila envelope and see my wallet and a piece of folded paper. I open the wallet and see my picture, and immediately rub my thumb over the charm. I pick up the note and open it.

Dear Mr. Cullen,

I was out walking my puppy, and I found your wallet. My mom used a twenty dollar bill from it to mail this back to you with a return receipt so that we'd know you got it. I hope that was okay. I wanted to bring it to you myself, but my mommy said I should mail it to you instead. If you ever want to meet me, that would be cool.

Benjamin Amun

PS. You're my favorite ball player. My whole class likes you. Maybe you could come see us sometime.

Yeah, I have to do something nice for this kid, for sure!

A/N: Huh, already his luck is returning. I wonder how Bella is fairing?