April

May

June

July

One hundred and twenty days. Two thousand eight hundred and eighty hours. Roughly five hundred bottles of wine and six hundred large pizzas. Not a single one from Tony's; I don't deserve it.

I left Edward, and while I know some of the reasons why, I don't know why I'm being so stubborn and staying away for so long. Excuse me for thinking that Edward proposing was more than a little off. Just because we'd talked about marriage didn't mean that less than a year into an actual relationship meant I was ready to jump the gun.

Alice came to visit me in May and had some harsh truths for me. For someone so small and who had barely been a part of my life since college, she seemed to read the situation incredibly well.

"Bella, I really like you. I always have," she says over wine and pasta in my kitchen. "But don't you think you might be projecting some old feelings about Maggie onto Edward?"

"I'm not projecting; I'm not ready to get married. It's simple, Alice."

"Why aren't you?"

Huffing, I set down my glass. "We haven't even been together a year. It's a huge commit—"

"I'm gonna stop you right there, sweetheart. You and Edward have been together for years. You're already committed to each other. Don't you think it's interesting that neither of you really had a serious relationship while you both had each other? That's not a coincidence, Bella. You two are so committed to each other, without actually having to go through all the awkward conversations and emotions. You did it naturally." Alice smirks at me over the rim of her glass.

"If that's the case, then why was he so upset?"

She rolls her eyes. "You rejected him. You did the exact thing that you're afraid of someone doing to you. What'd you expect? He loves you, and he wants to make everything official. He's always wanted this. He wants it with you."

When Alice left, I was angry—mad at her for pointing that out and mad at myself for not seeing it sooner. I never realized how stubborn I was ... until now. I didn't know what to do and that made me mad too.

When I was with Edward, even before we were together, I never second-guessed myself. I'd been described as impetuous and brave, but I didn't feel that way anymore.

Just after the Fourth of July, Rosalie calls me to get my reaction to the verdict in Maggie's case. I have to explain that I honestly haven't been paying it much attention. "Bella, she got fifteen years in prison."

"How's Jacob?" It was the only thing I could think of for a response.

"Actually, he's okay. He started seeing this girl named Vanessa. I think she works in the same building …" I let her drone on for a while as I examined my emotions.

I felt nothing for Maggie. I wasn't happy to hear that she got what she deserved or angry that it didn't happen sooner. I wasn't feeling somehow hurt still. I felt nothing. I was elated for Jacob; he, out of all of us, deserved to be happy.

I cut Rose off. "I gotta go. I'll call you later."

I don't think; I just grab my purse and lock up my apartment. I find myself, thirty minutes later, standing in front of the door that leads to the apartment Edward and I had shared for such a short time. I can hear him moving around inside, and my heart clenches in my chest.

I feel something. Anxiety, longing, and unbearable sadness, and somewhere beneath all of that, grief and love. I still love Edward.

I knock and wait for the moment he opens the door. It feels like an eternity. I have no idea what I'm going to say. I'll apologize, of course. But how can I make him understand that I didn't even know what I wanted, what I felt?

"Your hair looks good," he says when he opens the door.

"Um, thanks."

"What are you doing here?" He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms over his chest.

"I … I'm not sure, exactly."

"You wanna come in? Talk?" He pushes the door open, and I nod, stepping into the apartment. "Something to drink?"

"No, I'm good." I look around and feel so out of place in a home that was meant for us, built by us. "I'm sorry for just showing up."

"I'm glad you did, princess. I've really missed you."

"Me too. Edward, I've missed you so much. I—"

He raises a hand. "I don't want an apology or excuses. I do want an explanation though. I think I deserve that."

I swallow hard, and he gestures to the couch where we both sit and face each other.

"I never should have sprung a proposal on you, not like that. I'm sorry for that, but I won't apologize for wanting you—us."

I take his hand in my own. "I'd never ask you to apologize for that. And, I am sorry. Deep down I've always been afraid of rejection, and when you asked me to marry you, I did just that. I don't … I don't know how we come back from this, but I just know that I haven't stopped loving you."

"Princess, Bella … I love you too. I always will, but this whole thing—" He chokes on unshed tears. "I don't know how to fix this."

We sit in silence for a while before I ask him the question that will determine the rest of our lives.

"Do you still want to marry me?"