Author's Note:
...
"There's no use, we were made to break
I know the truth, and it's much too late
You're perfectly wrong for me
And that's why it's so hard to leave
Yeah, you're perfectly wrong for me...
All the stars in the sky could see
Why you're perfectly wrong for me"
Perfectly Wrong - Shawn Mendes
...
Four years ago.
"Are you sure this is what you want?" I ask slowly, trying to keep my voice from breaking.
I can feel warm tears forming in my eyes.
Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. I tell myself.
I grip the pen in my hand tighter, feeling my nails pushing into the skin of my palms.
He's looking at me with his arms across his chest with almost perfect posture. His expression is indifferent. To an average person, he looks mean and cold-like. But to someone, me, who has loved him for the last two years, I know he's trying to keep his composure.
I know he's as hurt as I am.
I can see the bags under his eyes and the red around his eyes. His hair is disheveled and he looks like he hasn't shaved in weeks.
It's Monday and he's wearing a t-shirt. He only wears those on the weekends and I'm pretty sure he has two different shoes on.
"Edward." I speak louder because maybe he didn't hear me.
His demeanor doesn't change. He's looking right at me, calculating, making sure the answer that comes out of his mouth is the correct one.
And then he says it.
"Yes. I am sure."
It sounds forced, like he doesn't believe it himself.
It crushes me, but I don't let up.
Don't cry.
I only nod.
My lawyer hands me the papers to sign. My hand and fingers shakingly reposition the pen in position to write. I sign, slowly, just in case.
Just in case in the next few seconds he changes his mind and we can go back home, pretend this never happened and move on with our lives.
But he doesn't say anything and I finish my signature.
I inhale deeply. It's not comforting nor do my lungs fill the way they normally would. They feel heavy and if I breathe out I know they will collapse and so will I.
I pass the forms back to my lawyer who slides them to his lawyer then to him.
He signs quickly and pushes them back to his lawyer.
"We will get these processed, but you are considered divorced in the state of Washington."
Divorced.
The word makes me want to hurl. I strived so hard not to be like my parents. Unhappily married, sitting between lawyers, and signing our marriage away like the marriage certificate we applied for didn't matter. They allowed close friends to sign as witnesses but it didn't mean shit.
I just thank whoever above me that I wasn't involved.
I push myself from the table and grab my things.
"Thank you." I say weakly, my voice is breaking and I feel my lungs collapsing. The only thought in my mind is to get out to my car so I can go.
I don't look at anyone as I rush out. I can hear chairs moving and papers being collected. I think they even shake hands. But I don't care. I have to get out.
Thankfully, we're on the first floor. I try not to run into people as I maneuver through the small office building. I keep my eyes down and move as fast I can but it feels like forever until I get through the door to outside. I all but ran to my car, thanking myself for parking directly in front of the building.
"I told you so, I told you so, I told you so."
That was the first my Devil had appeared in two years. She smirked at me, on fire and giving me a burning headache. Her fire danced in the reflection of my car. I ignored her, starting my car and driving off.
In my rearview mirror, he was there. Like he was chasing after me.
But I kept driving, what was done was done and there was no going back after our signatures bled into those papers finalizing our demise.
...
Present
I was wrong about him not being able to affect the way he once did. Obviously, he hasn't been gone long enough.
"What do you want?" I repeat again, just in case his male tendency to not listen when talked to.
It still feels like a lifetime before he answers.
"I just wanted to check on you?" He says with a question.
An awful noise comes out of my nose and I laugh, "Check on me?"
He nods slowly. He knows I'm getting to my breaking point before I do.
I subconsciously think back wondering if I really took my meds this morning.
I did... right?
"Bella." He waves his hand in front of him.
"Why?" That's all I can manage.
"Because I know you. He was... is your dad. You loved him. He put you through hell, but you loved him more than anything."
"Please don't." I shake my head.
"Don't what?" Is he really acting confused?
"Act like you care." I say slowly.
"I do care!" He's dramatic. "Isabella... I still love you!"
What the fuck?
I storm past him, feeling my body shake and my eyes burn from the tears that have been threatening to come out all day. I feel my stomach turn and the bile come up my throat.
I'm not fast enough though. He grabs the back of my upper arm, stopping me from moving forward.
My Angel steps forward, pushing Devil and Confidence out the way. She shines her lights and throws roses in the air.
With one touch, my body relaxes, and the nauseous feeling in my stomach is gone. When I look up at him my tears finally release.
Damn, he really wasn't gone enough.
...
Author's Note: Just one touch?