The hours spent worrying about her turned into days.
He tried to prove her his love and gain her trust again, it felt like it was a losing game.
The first time he kissed her since he came back, she cried so much that all he could taste was her tears. It did get better, but she never threw herself to him. Her lips always hesitant, never as bold as they used to be. Her tongue never tried to open his carefully locked lips again, she pulled back the first time he tried to open hers with his. "I know it hurts you." She said. "This is enough. You don't need to do more Edward."
Her hands never wandered his shoulders and his chest, she never initiated contact. Except for the time when they were walking from school to his car with his family and the strong wind was blowing his already untamed hair. A big leaf flew and stuck to his hair. She was listening Alice talk about the awful Spanish teacher and she didn't have time to think about it, her hand reached out and plucked the leaf out of his hair. Her whole body started to shake in the moment her hand touched his hair, her exclamation of "I'm so sorry!" was met with surprise from everyone, especially Edward but they didn't get any more answers from her as her eyes lost focus, her face got stoic. She came to herself that night and begged Edward not to leave her, promising that she would never ever touch him again without permission. He tried to tell her that she didn't need permission, that her touch was balm to his pain, that it was always welcome. She didn't hear a single word, shaking her head and crying.
After that day, her quiet "May I?" was heard every time she wanted to touch him.
She slept different now. Both of her hands tucked tightly between her knees or her chin. So that she wouldn't touch him in her sleep, without permission.
As he looked at her sleeping form, he could give everything he has just to go back in time for one night. Any night before her birthday, where he would lay down with her, his head in her chest, her arms squeezing his shoulders. Or any day they spent in his room, his head on her lap while they listened to the music from his collection, her fingers playing with his hair. Even any dinner he was forced to eat with Charlie, their hands connected under the tablecloth, away from the prying eyes.
He didn't know how to get that Bella back.