Thanksgiving is pretty uneventful.

I spend the holiday with Charlie, despite Esme's invite to join the Cullens for dinner. I guess after Edward told her I wasn't going to be coming over, she emailed to make sure I knew I was welcome. I don't think he told her everything, but it must've been enough to get the point across: whatever was happening with us romantically was no longer a thing. I replied to her, politely declining with the excuse that my dad was expecting me.

I thought being in Forks would be a nice distraction. And it is, for the first hour. There's not much to do, and that's not to say Charlie isn't a great host. It's just… he'd rather watch football and drink beer which gives me way too much time alone to think. And I've done enough of that already.

I've spent weeks replaying my fight with Edward. I've had countless sleepless nights either beating myself up over how I handled everything or getting pissed at him all over again for the entire thing.

So maybe I was hasty in breaking up with him. I know this. But in reality… was it not going to happen sooner or later? Long distance is hard enough, but toss in my trust issues and his deliberate lie… there's zero way it would've lasted.

Regardless of all of that... I miss him. And even if I forgive him, it's still confusing.

After dinner, Charlie doesn't retire to his chair like I assumed he would. Instead, he suggests we play a game of Scrabble.

We're playing the way we always do, the way that makes Scrabble actually fun—using only slang words. Charlie puts down his letters, spelling out the word 'lit,' and I burst into laughter. He raises his eyebrows as a challenge and swigs his Rainier.

"Maybe we should start using our words in a sentence. I have a feeling it would be incredibly hilarious to hear you say the word lit."

"Don't go trying to embarrass your old man."

"I'm not," I counter, smiling. "You do that all by yourself."

"Sure, sure." He chuckles. "So how long you here for?"

"Just 'til tomorrow. Em's girlfriend let me borrow her car, so I should get it back to her."

Charlie smirks behind his mustache. "Em's got a girl?"

"Yeah."

"What about Edward?"

I keep my eyes on my letters. "Not that I know of."

"Huh."

"He's moving in January, so I'm sure he'll have lots of bold, eccentric LA women to choose from."

Charlie smirks. "Not if you have anything to say about it, I bet."

"I don't. I don't have anything to say about it. In fact, I have so little to say about it, I don't even know why we're on this topic."

"You don't have a very good poker face, kid."

I ignore his knowing gaze and spell out the word "woke."

"I must get that from you," I say, grabbing the bag of letters.

"You certainly don't get it from your mother. She's a hard one to crack."

"Yeah. She's pretty good at being emotionless." Charlie stays quiet and sips his beer. "Why didn't you ever date anyone after she left?"

"I mean, I did. I have."

My eyes widen. "Not that I knew of."

"Well, I'm not gonna go flauntin' it around town. Not my style."

"Fair enough. I just thought… I don't know. Maybe Renee messed you up emotionally, and you decided to be alone forever." Like me.

"Ain't that a bit dramatic?"

Again, like me.

"I don't know," I say instead.

"That was in the past. If I were still holding onto what happened with Renee, it wouldn't be healthy."

I avoid his eyes. "Right."

"Do you still have… feelings over her leaving?" I can tell this topic isn't easy for him to navigate. And I don't even necessarily want to get into all of it, but I appreciate him trying.

"I mean, I don't cry every night or anything. It's easy to write it off, pretend everything's cool, but… that facade can only go on for so long." I'm still staring down. "I definitely think it affected me more than I realize. Especially in… relationships," I admit reluctantly. "Or whatever. Trusting people is hard, I guess, so I'll basically be alone forever."

"You won't be alone—you got your old man."

"I know. But…" I give him a look. "It's different."

"I hear ya." He sips his beer. "Any of this have to do with Edward?"

"Maybe."

"What happened?"

"I don't know." I reorganize my letters and mumble, "Sometimes I get scared that a good thing won't last."

Charlie regards me for a moment. "That's no way to live, Bells."

"No shit."

"You ever think about talking to someone?"

"I'm talking to you."

"Someone with a fancy degree," he clarifies, and I shrug. "There are things I've had to tackle, too. Everyone has their crap. You just gotta be willing to put in the work and face your trauma head on. You gotta trust yourself enough to know you can handle digging deep. In the end, I think we all owe that to ourselves."

That came out of left field. "Okay, Dr. Phil—have you seen my dad? He's about yay high, has a giant mustache, and doesn't typically give such good advice."

Charlie laughs and shakes his head. "Give me some credit. I listen to a self-help podcast every now and then. It's lit."

I smile and shake my head. "Please never use that word again."

His grin is shy as he says, "Just tryin' to stay woke."

XXX

When it's just after ten, Charlie and I retire to our rooms. I scroll through Instagram for a minute, then promptly close it. Everyone's posts are happy and glowing and filled with family and friends and food. I know it's just social media, and people only share the highlight reel of their lives. I'd just rather not see all that tonight.

Just because I don't want to be on Instagram doesn't mean I'm not still feeling a little masochistic. I open my messages and scroll to Edward's name. I don't have to read his last text to know what it says because I've spent an embarrassing amount of time re-reading our messages. They're cute and flirty with expressions of love, and I just can't.

Or maybe I can. Maybe my talk with Charlie got me feeling vulnerable, forcing my pride to take a backseat for a moment. So I send him a text.

Did Emmett try to bring his weed gravy again this year?

It's a lame attempt at starting a conversation, but it's all I got. He immediately responds.

Nah

That's it. Nothing else. I'm torn between accepting the fact that I probably don't deserve anything else from him and being upset that's all he's willing to give. But then his text bubbles appear again.

Looks like Rose changed him for the better

If he's trying to make a dig at me or our short-lived relationship, it doesn't compute.

How's Forks? he types.

Boring. How's the Cullen clan?

They miss you

Does that include you? I type then delete it. It's not fair for me to ask that. It's probably not even fair I just texted him at all. We've barely spoken since our fight. It's been pretty quiet around the house with both of us hiding out in our rooms or being completely gone to avoid any awkward run-ins. When we have seen each other, it's tense. Kinda weird. And to be honest, I fucking hate it.

You still there? he asks.

I'm still here

And then he's calling me. Not just calling, but FaceTiming.

"Oh, good." He sighs dramatically, lying in bed at home. "It is you."

"What?" My portion of the screen is kinda dim, so I turn on the light beside my twin bed.

"I just figured someone hijacked your phone or that you were abducted by aliens."

I offer a timid smile. "Why?"

"I wasn't sure why you'd suddenly reach out to me."

His words create a pang in my heart. "And aliens was a probability?"

"More so than you coming to your senses, yeah."

"Low blow, Cullen."

His face turns a little serious. "Is it weird I FaceTimed you?"

"Yes and no," I answer honestly. We stare at each other for a couple of seconds before I say, "What was the best thing you ate today? Explain it to me with lots of details please. The more adjectives, the better."

"I take it you didn't have the best Thanksgiving."

I lie on my side, propping the phone up against my other pillow so I don't have to hold it. "Well, Charlie's not the best cook, so I was basically in charge of everything."

"So you're saying there was nothing edible?"

I appreciate the sarcasm because for a second it makes things feel normal between us. And not romantic-normal, but the way we have always been toward one another—best friends with a side of snark, laced with flirtation.

"God. Another low blow. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

His lips press into a somber smile. "What can I say? I'm a scorned man."

I'm about to apologize, but stop myself. Because I'm scorned, too. He's not the only one this situation affected.

"I'm hurting too," I whisper.

His gaze softens for a moment. "I've missed this."

My heart skips. "What?"

"Talking to you. Joking with you. Just… you."

His words tug at my heart. Big time. "I miss you, too."

"Good. Are you done being ridiculous?"

"Edward."

"What? It's a valid question."

"Well it's making me feel shitty." My eyes drop away from the screen. "You're disregarding the way I feel, and I don't appreciate it."

A look of surprise morphs onto his face. "I'm sorry. That wasn't my intention. At all."

I sigh. "I'm allowed to be mad, okay?"

He nods. "I guess I'm just… I'm leaving soon. I don't really want my last few weeks in Seattle to be like this with us."

"I mean, I didn't want this to happen, either."

"Well?"

"Well, what? What do you expect me to do?"

His face is open, earnest. "Forgive me."

"It's not even like I haven't forgiven you, I just… I was scared before, so imagine how I feel now?" I blow out another sigh. "You lied to me. It's like… the one fucking thing I needed you not to do, Edward."

"There's nothing I can do to fix this, is there?" he asks, any ounce of hope gone from his voice.

"I don't know," I say honestly. "I don't know what I need. Maybe time?" He exhales, nodding. "Can I ask you something, though?"

"Of course," he says quietly.

I look away from the screen for a second. "When we were fighting and you asked me to move to LA… were you serious?"

"One-hundred-percent serious."

"Why didn't you bring it up before then?"

"Because I was worried."

"About what?"

"That it'd be too much, too soon. Not for me, but for you."

"Oh."

"I thought I'd scare you off. You finally got a new job; we were in a new relationship with plans to move in together after a year. I wasn't sure how much you were willing to… budge."

"And you thought blurting it out during a fight was a good time to mention it?"

He hesitates, unsure. "I was desperate, I guess. It felt like it was the only way I could show you I was serious about us."

I think about this. "So it was like a Hail Mary?"

His smirk is small. "Are you really referencing football?"

"I was with Charlie all day; cut me some slack."

"In a sense, sure. I had nothing to lose other than you. And that was already happening, so… yeah."

"I'm… I'm sorry."

"No, Bella, I'm—"

"No, really. I'm sorry I'm like, too emotionally fucked up to be with you."

"You're not emotionally fucked up."

"I am. You were right when you said I was waiting for something to happen. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop and that's just… not fair to you. At all." My eyes sting, and I press my face against my pillow for a second. "Don't get me wrong, I'm still pissed you lied. I know deep down you weren't trying to be malicious. But… it still hurts."

"I'm sorry, Bell. Seriously."

"I know."

He holds my gaze until I have to look away.

"Can I ask you something now?" he asks.

"Yeah."

"If you're so self-aware about why you were pulling away from me... why don't you try working on it?"

Good fucking question. "Because I don't know where to start? And that's just one part to this messy puzzle. You're moving. It's gonna be hard."

"You don't think being together is worth it?"

"That's not what I'm saying," I counter.

"I mean... essentially you are." He frowns. "If the distance scares you, then come with me. The offer still stands. The offer will always stand."

"I have a new job here—one that I actually like. I finally feel like part of the team. And… I'm really fucking good at this, Edward."

He nods along as I talk. "I get that. I do. It makes me really happy to hear, Bell. Seriously."

"Thank you," I say softly.

"But… I gotta be selfish. I really wish you were coming with me." I don't know what to say to this. "I'm not gonna try to push you into anything. I'm not gonna sit here and try to convince you to be with me again. It's just too humiliating. I showed you all my cards, and you know how I feel. Now whatever happens is up to you."

"That's a lot of pressure."

"Doesn't have to be," he says easily. "But I want things to be normal again. If you can't be with me like that, then I'd like to at least still be friends. I hate trying to avoid you. It doesn't make me happy."

"Me either," I mumble. "You really think we can be friends after this?"

"Yes. I know I can. You're gonna have to figure out what's best for yourself, though."

"I… think we can ease back into it." Relief fills my chest. "I don't want to completely lose you."

We fall silent for a few moments, but it's not entirely uncomfortable.

"I heard you didn't RSVP to my going-away party. Are you trying to skip out on it?"

I bite my lip. "I wasn't sure if I should go."

"You're literally the only person I want there. So, please come."

"Okay."

"Okay?" he repeats.

"I'll be there. Of course I'll fucking be there."

"Good." When he smiles it's small and doesn't meet his eyes. He looks like the epitome of a man who will take what he can get, and it hurts my heart. "How's Charlie?"

"He's fine. He goes back to work tomorrow, so I'll head back to the city."

"You gonna come with us to cut down a tree?"

"I don't know if I'll be back before dark."

"We'll go Saturday then."

"Don't go changing your plans because of me."

"Why not? It's tradition. Besides, changing a plan isn't a big deal to me. Especially when it involves you."

"Are you gonna keep doing that?"

"What?"

"Make me feel guilty?"

"No. Sorry." He clears his throat, scratching along his jaw. "I guess I'll let you go."

"What? No. I wanna talk."

"About what?" he asks gently.

"Anything. Everything."

So we do. We talk until two in the morning, until I'm yawning and trying really hard not to fall asleep. Edward urges me to go to bed, reminding me the trip back is gonna suck tomorrow—today—if I don't get some shut-eye. He's right, so we say goodnight. And when I accidentally tell him I love him, he wholeheartedly says it back.

I'M ~STILL SORRY OKAY. I have a feeling I'll be saying that for a while.

Hadley and Liv are the best hand-holders and talk me off the ledge I've grown so accustomed to lol