I'm woken early, though I can't remember falling asleep. An angry nurse who ushers me from the room despite my quiet pleading to stay.

Esme doesn't wake. Neither does Edward.

When the nurse threatens to call security, my tears fall harder as I glance once more at Edward's lifeless body on the bed, and leave.

"Come back during visiting hours," she tells me sternly.

I don't acknowledge her, I just walk.

I stand in the parking lot, the cold air freezing my damp cheeks, my breathing tight.

Going through the motions, feeling so much pain and nothing else.

Emmett appears, watching me cautiously as he approaches.

I look at him, not really seeing, noticing Carlisle enter the hospital behind him.

"You need a ride?" He asks, coming to a stop in front of me.

Inhaling deeply, I blow out a cloud of air.

Do I?

Where am I even going?

So many thoughts swirl and fog my mind, finding no clarity through the thick haze.

"Come on." He ushers me gently, a soft touch on my back, directing me towards his car.

We don't speak, neither of us knowing what to say. He doesn't ask why I stayed at the hospital all night, I don't ask why he didn't.

"Thank you," I croak, opening the car door when he pulls up outside my house.

He nods, turning to me, so unsure. "You want me to call you if anything changes?"

Clearing my throat, I manage a small nod. "Please."

Suddenly, all I can think about is standing under a hot shower and crying until I have no tears left. I want to cry until I have no pain left, but I don't think that's possible.

In a daze, I walk into the house, welcomed by nothing but emptiness and cold.

I don't hear the scrape of a kitchen chair against the floor until it's too late and I'm faced with the confused face of my mother.

I watch as her eyes take me in. I must look awful. I don't care.

"Where were you?" she asks eventually, her voice higher in pitch. For a second, I almost believe she was worried. "And where is your dad?"

I can't help but laugh at her audacity.

Shaking my head, chuckling like a mad woman, I wipe at my face. "The irony."

"Sit down, Bella."

I continue to shake my head, sniffing loudly, swallowing hard. "No. I need to shower."

"You can shower after we've talked."

I shoot her an incredulous look. "The amount of things I want —need— to say to you … trust me, I should shower first." I don't wait for her permission.

And like a robot, I shower. Stand under the sprays of water, no longer holding back the constant flow of tears, unable to muffle my sobs and the pain. I let it all hit me, I welcome it, absorb it, feel it.

I think of Edward in his hospital bed, fighting to stay strong, to stay alive.

I think of the ultimatum, the line I need to draw.

When I think of how much I'll miss him if he can't accept the help he needs, my knees buckle and the crack in my heart widens.

Pain, fear, worry … they've made a home within my soul, and I'm on a downward spiral.

I need a little glimpse of light, hope.

But I don't know how we can get it. I'm sinking, and my legs won't work, they won't keep me afloat, the current is winning, dragging me down, under.

I can't continue like this. It will kill me.

Edward can't stay on his path of self-destruction, it almost did kill him.

There's so much promise buried under the surface of us both, we've tasted it, had a teaser of what we can be.

I'm willing to change, to move forward.

Is he?

Taking large, gulping breaths, I brace myself for the first step in my journey …

Talking to my mom.

A/N

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