Chapter Thirteen

Bella POV

The night is a blur.

I spend half of the time crying and dissecting everything that happened between Edward and me, and the other half being angry and cyberstalking the woman he slept with.

I find her contact information on the venue's website. Her name is Rachel Black. She lives in Phoenix. She's covered in tattoos and has a few piercings. She's exactly the kind of woman I always see hanging around after the guys play a show. She's exactly the kind of woman who sets her sights on Edward then looks at the ground when she sees him make his way through the crowd to kiss me.

But I wasn't there that night.

I know Edward and I weren't even officially together, so maybe it's unfair to be pissed at him. And I know it's irrational to hate her. But he should've told me. Especially since he made a point to say we were back together. I deserved to hear it from him rather than see it on his phone. I still would've been pissed, but not… outraged. Not blindsided. Not only did he purposely hide it from me, but he begged me to visit him hours after they fucked. That's why I'm hurt.

Once I'm done looking through Rachel's photos, I click on the venue's Instagram to see pictures from that night. Like I might catch a glimpse of them together. Like I'll see the moment she approached him and they walked out, hand in hand. I don't find anything like that though. Just shots of the guys playing on stage. It dampens my rage, just a little.

Until Rose points out that Rachel looks exactly like… me.

The resemblance is definitely there, and it's like a punch to my gut. Once Rose says it, I can't unsee it. Long chestnut hair with honey highlights. Brown eyes. Slender and short. Her face is shaped like mine, too, and we have the same smile. She's the cool-girl version of me, though. Tattoos and piercings. She lives the same lifestyle as Edward, late nights and constant parties. She's the kind of girl who does coke with Edward before and after they fuck. And suddenly my hate for her feels rationalized.

Alice gives Rose shit for pointing out the resemblance detail, but I'm glad she said it. Because now it makes a little more sense in my head why Edward would have caved and fucked her.

She wasn't anyone special.

She wasn't anything but a readily available version of me.

XXX

I don't sleep at all, and when it's time for us to leave, I feel and look like absolute shit.

On the way to the airport, Rose has the driver stop by the hotel because she and Alice need to grab some stuff they left behind. She asks me if it's okay, and I shrug my consent, already knowing I won't be going inside with them. I wait in the car with the Uber driver while they run up. Not many minutes pass before I see a disheveled Edward walking out of the lobby, straight for the car. He's wearing the same clothes as he was yesterday. His hair's a mess, and his eyes are hidden by Ray-Bans. He looks like a wreck. He looks exactly how I feel.

I immediately look away, out the other window.

"Bella." His voice is muffled through the glass. "Can we talk?" I just shake my head. "Please. One minute." He tries opening the door, but it's locked. This finally makes me turn to him.

"Stop. There's nothing to say."

"Roll down the window," he demands.

"No," I say, but part of me craves his insistence. I need him to try. Even if it doesn't do us any good, I just need him to try.

He fists some hair then dips his head, so we're eye level. "Please," he begs. "One minute."

I meet the driver's eyes in the rearview mirror, but he doesn't say anything.

"One minute?" I echo because a very small part of me wants to hear Edward out. He swallows and nods. When he stands and steps back, I exit the car and move around the back for a little more privacy. "What?" I ask, my arms crossed over my chest.

Edward doesn't say anything right away. Just stares down at me. His nose is slightly red, and beyond his tinted frames, I can just make out his tired eyes. I doubt he got any sleep. I mean, I didn't either. But his lack of sleep seems more self-induced with drugs and alcohol versus mine being the inability to turn off my mind.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, voice cracking. "I never meant to hurt you."

"If you didn't mean to hurt me, then why did you sleep with her? Why keep it from me?"

"You wanna know why I slept with her?" he asks, voice rough and demanding. I'm too afraid to say yes or no, so I say nothing. "I heard you were talking to Ben again."

"What?"

"It pissed me off. I was jealous and drunk, and I'm not fuckin' proud of it. I didn't tell you about Rachel because I knew how you'd react, and that I'd fucking lose you for good. And I was right."

"So… what? You slept with her as some sort of sick payback because I attended the funeral of someone I knew for five years?"

His face falls, like maybe he realizes his excuse makes things worse.

"No," he insists.

"Yesterday you basically insinuated that it'd be okay if I slept with someone else. And now you're telling me the reason why you slept with Rachel is because you were mad at the thought of me merely hanging out with Ben?"

"I don't know," he mumbles, agitation radiating off of him. "I wasn't thinking. I told you, my fuckin' head hasn't been right."

"Because you're doing coke all the time!" I yell.

His jaw tenses. "I'm not."

"Don't lie to me. You're probably high right now," I accuse, and when he doesn't refute what I've said, I know I'm probably right.

"I don't know how many times I can say it," he sniffs. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm fucking sorry!"

I almost laugh at how not sorry he sounds.

"Apologizing doesn't erase what you did. You still should have told me everything, Edward."

"I didn't… it's not like I cheated on you, Bell. I didn't. I never have. I wouldn't—"

"Don't try to justify it that way. You knew I wasn't off fucking other people. I told you in the email that I wanted to talk when you got back. That I wanted to try. Yeah, I was trying to move on for the time being, but… it was never to move on to someone else. I don't even know how…" I have to stop myself, emotion rising thick in my throat. I can't imagine sleeping with someone else. I don't even know how he could do that. "No, you didn't cheat. But you lied. Even after she texted, you tried to play it off like it was nothing. And you called me and begged me to visit you immediately after you fucked her. It's… that still makes me feel sick."

"I know I fucked up. But what can I do to fix this? Please, just… tell me how to fix this, Bella." He says it desperately, and my heart aches. "Tell me. Fucking tell me, please."

"I don't think you can," I say sadly, tears filling my eyes now. "Not right now. I just need space."

He turns away, walking a few feet from me then turning back. "I meant it, you know."

"What?"

"I'd marry you."

"Stop."

"No, just… I mean, I get it. The timing. It's like, fucking… it's shitty and desperate. But I'd do it. I love you."

"I can't," I cry, staring down at the ground. "You think I want that? After everything? You think I want you to offer up marriage like… like a bandage to fix all of this?"

"No. I don't… I don't know what you want, Bella," he mumbles, and I meet his eyes. "I feel like I never have."

"I wanted you," I cry. "That's all. I just wanted you."

"And I want you," he whispers, moving closer, grasping my arms.

I shrug out of his grip. "No. You want the band. And the drugs. You want a life that I don't fit into. You don't want me."

"It's not wrong to have other things I'm passionate about. I mean, fuck. You even liked that about me when we first got together."

"I'm not saying you have to be all about me, but… when it comes to you keeping your dick in your pants?" I ask rhetorically. "Yeah. Not fucking other people isn't asking that much of you."

"It was one time!" he yells, frustrated now. "One time. One girl. One… fucking stupid mistake."

"That's all it takes."

"So, that's it. Really." He's angry now, and that's fine. I can deal with his anger better than watching him crumble. I can deal with this side better than him being on his knees and begging for my forgiveness.

Alice and Rose walk out of the lobby now, their eyes instantly on us.

"You ready?" Rose calls out, as she and Alice each open a car door.

"Don't go," Edward quietly begs, moving to block them from my view.

"I have a flight to catch."

"Change your ticket. Just stay another day or two. So we can fucking… figure this out. Please. I'm…" His face pales, and he pulls off his sunglasses. His eyes are darker than I've ever seen, and I knew it. He's fucking high right now. "Don't go yet."

"I have to," I mumble, ignoring the tug that his begging is doing to my heart. "I can't stay."

"One more day, Bella."

One more day.

One more chance.

It was one time with one girl that brought us to this moment, and I just can't let it go. Not right now.

"Stay," he whispers, and my eyes dart toward the car that Rose and Alice are patiently waiting inside.

It would be so easy to stay. To hash this out. To forgive him. But I don't want to. Not this time. Because if I stay now, nothing will change.

I stare back at Edward, feeling a sense of déjà vu. It's just like that night he broke up with me, before the band left for Portland. I'd begged him to stay another day. One more night, so we could hash out our shit. He easily could have. I'd even offered to drive him to Portland the very next day. But he left anyway. Seemingly so easily, too.

"I can't," I tell him, the words "I'm sorry" on the tip of my tongue. But I don't owe him an apology, and he doesn't deserve one more day with me.

Without another word, I climb into the car and don't look back. To my surprise, I don't even cry.