Thoughts of Edward don't fade away easily.

I see the unopened envelope on my dresser and think of Edward. I drive around in his old car and think of Edward. I eat and barely sleep and feel half alive, and I think of Edward.

Work is a nice distraction, but I can tell my focus is off. I miss a deadline on top of forgetting to reply to a few customer inquiries on an Instagram post. When Ben calls me into his office to ask what's up, it's clear he's being too nice. I don't make any excuses for my slacking and take full responsibility for my screw up, promising him I'll get it together.

When the evening nears, Leah, the girl who took over for me as the receptionist, suggests a group of us head to happy hour. My instinct is to say no, but I stop myself. Spending another evening at home holed up from everyone doesn't necessarily sound appealing. I hold off, but when I hear that Ben isn't going, I tell her yes.

It's nice being out for a little bit, if only to keep my mind away from Edward. Of course, my thoughts don't stray from him for too long but giving myself a little break feels good. I tell myself I'll only stay for an hour, and I stick to that. It's only as I'm leaving that I bump into Ben, who decided to join everyone a little late.

"Hey! You're leaving?" His look of disappointment does not go unnoticed.

I pull my hair over my shoulder, nodding. "Yeah. Kinda tired. You can have my seat, though," I say, pointing toward our table.

"You sure I can't interest you in one drink?" he asks, hopeful.

My thoughts travel back to New Year's, when I made things much worse between Edward and me by having one drink with Ben.

"I'm sure," I tell him. "I'm good."

He lingers. "Can we talk for a second? Alone?"

My heart speeds up. Everyone at the table is lost in conversation, not really paying attention to us. I'm not sure what he would need to say to me in private, but I go against my instinct and say, "Sure."

With a nod, he ushers me over until we're standing alone near the bathrooms. With a clearing of his throat, he stalls. I wait for him to take the floor.

"Is everything okay?" he questions.

I keep my face neutral. "Yeah, why?"

"You seem off."

"I know, I know. And I promise, I'll get my shit together at work, I just—"

"I'm not asking as your boss; I'm asking as your friend," he says gently, voice lowering. "I know we talked earlier, about missing some deadlines, but I'm not referencing that. I'm talking about you. Personally."

"Oh." I feel my face heat a little, but the hallway is dim, and I hope he can't tell. I don't really want to tell him about Edward because it feels too personal. But maybe if I'm a little honest, he'll step off. "Edward, my ex-boyfriend, moved a week ago."

"Right. To LA."

"I'm just bummed about that. I miss him."

"I see." He pauses, watching my face a little too closely as he gestures between our bodies. "Am I off on the vibe here?"

"What vibe?"

The corner of his mouth tugs to one side. "That there might be something more between us?"

God, I fucking hate this. The confrontation, the one-sided feeling that's clearly happening here. Edward was right. I mean, I kind of already knew that after my interaction with Ben on New Year's Eve. But part of me hoped whatever attraction he held for me would just disappear on its own, and I wouldn't have to address anything.

But that's what the old Bella would do. I wouldn't outright say anything to Ben to let him down. I'd avoid the elephant in the room to lessen the blow and keep the peace. I'd go out with him, maybe let him fuck me, then tell him it's not him, it's me. Eventually he'd lose interest, and I'd be off the hook. That won't do me any good, though. That behavior only leaves me feeling more alone than before. So, I decide I need to be honest.

"Yes," I say after a moment.

Ben's face is unreadable. "Yes, I'm picking up the wrong signals? Or yes, you're into me?"

"Is this even… appropriate?" I ask, kind of laughing. There's zero humor behind it though.

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make you feel uncomfortable," he states, stepping back a bit.

"Well, I am uncomfortable." I clear my throat. "I really like my job, but is this one of those things where if I don't go out with you, you're gonna fire me or—"

His eyes grow wide, like he wasn't expecting me to be so straight-forward. "Shit. No, Bella. I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to make it weird like that. Of course I wouldn't do that."

"Okay. Then yes, you're picking up the wrong signals. I'm still in love with Edward," I say honestly. "And even if I wasn't… I don't think anything happening between us would be good."

He nods, running a hand along his jaw. "I get it. And I appreciate the honesty. I'm sorry if I was trying a little too hard. I really thought…" Hesitating, he leaves the floor open for me. When I don't say anything, he nods. "Well. It doesn't matter what I thought. I was wrong."

"This isn't going to make things weird between us at work, is it?"

"Not in the least," he promises. "Again, I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

His smile is friendly, relieved. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sounds good."

He steps aside, motioning for me to head out before him. So I do, and I keep walking toward the exit, not even bothering to look back.

XXX

When the weekend rolls around, I head to Forks to celebrate a belated Christmas with Charlie. When I pull up, there's a car I've never seen before in the driveway. I briefly wonder if Charlie's seeing someone, but if he is, I haven't heard a single thing.

Curiosity nags at me as I walk inside, the door already unlocked.

"Dad?" I call out, sticking his gifts under the tree before shrugging out of my coat.

"Back here!" Charlie yells out from the kitchen.

"God, it's freaking cold out there, I almost—"

When I round the corner, I find Renee sitting at the table, and Charlie across from her. She doesn't say anything, just smiles somberly. My eyes bounce between the two of them, noting how Charlie's forehead creases with worry and maybe a little guilt, too.

"What's going on? What are you doing here?" I ask accusingly.

"I wanted to spend the holiday with y'all," she says gingerly, and I scrutinize her for a moment. She's not wearing any makeup, her hair is pulled back in a low bun, and she looks… defeated. Her gaze isn't distant, so it's easy to tell she's sober for once. She looks sad. She looks earnest. She looks the perfect part for someone who's trying to make amends for the third time in their life. But I'm not falling for it this time.

I cross my arms over my chest and ask, "What happened to Florida?"

"I was there for a bit. But it didn't work out."

"So you decided to come crawling back to Charlie?" I blurt, fully angry—for him, for me. "Dad, you're not just gonna let her do this, are you?"

Charlie stands from the table, stepping closer to me. "Bella, calm down. Nothing is happening. I thought it would be nice for us to spend some time together. That's all."

"Bullshit. She's trying to worm her way back into our lives, so she can fuck them up again. And I'm not gonna let that happen."

"That's not what I'm trying to do," she replies, voice carefully neutral. "I honestly just wanted to see you. I called—"

"No you didn't."

She bristles at my tone. "Well, I wanted to."

The room is silent, like they're waiting for me to take the floor. Like they're waiting for me to give her my blessing, and let her stay.

"I can't do this," I say, looking at Charlie. "I don't want her here."

"Bells—"

"No. If she's staying, then I'm leaving."

"You haven't heard her out," Charlie says sternly.

"I don't want to hear her out," I snap, and I wonder how it would feel to have people talking about me as if I'm not in the same room as them. Wonder if it's actually as demoralizing as she makes it look. "We've let her get away with this for too fucking long, and I've had enough." My throat constricts as I try to keep myself from crying.

"It's fine," she murmurs, looking at Charlie. "I'll go."

He looks over at her, shaking his head. "Renee, no. If Bella doesn't want to have a conversation like an adult then… she's free to leave."

"Are you actually kidding me right now, Dad?" I balk, emotion rising in my chest. "Tell me, when has Renee ever acted like an adult? She runs from all her responsibilities. She mooches off people, and now that she's finally run out of people to rely on, she's back. How can you not see that?" Charlie doesn't answer because he knows I'm right. "You're supposed to be on my side, not hers. She fucking left you. She'll do it again."

"Baby, I am on your side," Charlie insists. "I just want all of us to talk. I don't want us to avoid this forever; it's not healthy. I think we owe it to her to hear her out."

"I don't owe her anything! I've fucking tried!" I yell, letting tears stream down my cheeks. "I've tried with her for years, and I got nothing in return. She doesn't want us, and she doesn't love us. So why would I believe her now? Why am I gonna let this be on her terms, huh? Tell me—why?"

After I say it all, it's like the air gets sucked out of the room. I just stand here, crying into my hands, feeling incredibly raw and vulnerable. Charlie quiets down, maybe not realizing just how miserable this situation has made me. Renee just stares at me in stunned silence, finally recognizing the trauma she created.

I know I'm just as guilty as they are for allowing this to happen. How would they know the pain I'm in, if I've never told them? I deflect with humor and keep everyone at arm's length so they don't see the real me. I push everything down until I can't feel and then put on a brave face. But I don't want to be brave anymore. I want to accept the pain, and I want to own it. I at least owe that much to myself. But Renee? I don't owe her anything.

"Bella," she says softly.

"No. Don't." I shake my head. "You can stay. Pretend to be a happy little family, I don't care. But I refuse to be a part of it."

"Please don't go," Renee begs, but I'm already heading down the hallway. She follows after me, watching as I pull on my coat and scramble for my keys. "I don't want to come between you and Charlie. I really don't."

"Don't give yourself so much credit," I mutter darkly. "Dad and I will be fine. I just refuse to stick around and watch you do this again."

"Okay. I get it. You hate me," she says pitifully. "Trust me, I would've fucked you up even more if I stuck around."

I reach for the door, pausing before I open it. "That wasn't your decision to make alone ," I say, turning to look at her square in the eyes.

"Wasn't it, though?"

"It was selfish, and you know it."

I feel Charlie's presence before I see him lingering in the hallway, watching us carefully.

"You're right. I was selfish. And I'm trying to own that. But you're not letting me."

"How does it feel?" I ask quietly. "To reach out to someone you care about, only to have them completely disregard you?"

She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. And really, there isn't anything left to say. I glance over at Charlie, silently regarding him for a moment before walking out the door, letting it slam behind me.

XXX

When I leave Charlie's, I have to pull over on the side of the road because I'm crying so hard, I can barely drive. Maybe leaving was a little dramatic, but I don't care. Staying would only show Renee that her actions and decisions all these years were justified, and I refuse to give her that approval anymore.

With the car in park, I cry harder than I ever have before. I cry for the relationship that never was with a woman who never cared for me. I cry for Charlie and the pain he must feel, even though he seems to have put on a brave face, probably for my sake. I cry for my failed relationship with Edward and for not seeing that he's the only person, besides Emmett, who truly cares for me and has my best interest in mind.

I cry, and I curse myself for being so stupid, so guarded, so incredibly skeptical all these years. What did it really do for me? It didn't stop me from getting hurt because I'm hurting. It didn't help me to have it all because I'm left with absolutely nothing.

But even so, when my tears finally subside, I find myself feeling lighter somehow. Like saying all of those things to Renee was cathartic. I'd held back for so many years, avoiding the potential confrontation, thinking I was better off just sucking it up. Which in turn made me bitter, resentful, and deeply hurt. I never thought that allowing myself to be immersed in that pain would somehow be healing. But I was just proved so, so wrong. For once, I'm okay with that.

Thanks for sticking with me. IT MEANS SO MUUUCH. Next update is Tuesday.

Hadley... you know. :)