My dear little broccolis 💚💚💚
READ & REVIEW, DON'T BE A SILENT READER
Love, Mina 💚💚💚
💚 Make Love To Me 💚
Bella wakes up in the middle of the night due to suspicious noise in her apartment. She investigates, but little does she know that this search will change the life she had … maybe even forever?
‼️Rated M - {Out Of Characters/All Human/Alternate Universe} - Romance/Lemons‼️
‼️Angst/Lemon/Language/Drama‼️
‼️Edward Cullen/Bella Swan‼️
💚 READ & REVIEW, DON'T BE A SILENT READER 💚
Chapter 1: In The Middle Of The Night (6,5K)
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Bella's PoV.
I was sleeping safe and sound in my bed when I suddenly hear a noise that woke me up. I abruptly sit up in my bed, straining my ears all the while my insides freeze with fear as my immediate thoughts are that I'm being burgled. Isn't it ironic? Me, of all people, getting cleaned up? I thought that it was common knowledge among pity criminals that my apartment isn't one to be visited. I am probably the safest person in this city. The police watch out for me, the mob watches out for me, even the Feds watch out for me. A burglar has more chances in the White House than in my little flat.
You'd think that I must be a very shady person to have such 'bodyguards', but no. I am just me. I actually consider myself a good and kind person. I just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong moment. I just happened to have shady acquaintances. Not that I knew, it just happened to me. Because I was naive enough to let myself fall in love with the blond-haired criminal who stole my heart.
With all the cautiousness of the world, I take the iron baseball bat that has always stays under my bed since five years ago; and with my heart hammering like a drum, I silently head towards the source of the unsettling sound, which would seem to be coming from my office. It's been five years since I've been there. Ever since him. Edward. Ever since Edward, I have never touched a crayon with the intention to draw. I completely stopped going to this office where it once brought me serenity, where he and I built so many of our happiest memories together. Where I drew so many things about us, where we made so many plans about this important thing that was supposed to be our future.
As I make my way through the corridor, I warily look at the slightly opened door that leads to my former office; and I gave it a slight push ... Only to find looking through my old drawings the last person I would expect to see in here. For a second, I thought that I was hallucinating. I mean, it can't be. I know for a fact that it can't be. This is literally impossible.
I stand here, useless and frozen in the doorframe as I watch him rumble through my stuff; and so many memories assault me all at once. Strangely, I can only hold on to the good ones. Like our first kiss, our many first-times, the first time he told me that he loved me, that one time when he almost choked on broccoli because I told him that I might be pregnant and when afterwards, he spun me in the air with glee and happiness. The endless waves of laughter, the wonderful smiles, the fire-like kisses, the amazing sex. How many times did he come back home and found me in that very office, drawing my heart out? How many times did he smile at that image and said that he wished that I'd never lose my spark of creativity? How many times did he passionately prove to me his love in that very office?
I know that I shouldn't be thinking of that. I know that I shouldn't think of him like that. Not anymore. He's a criminal, a worldwide-known criminal. He killed people just because they were standing in his way, just because he was told to, just because it was easier like that. He chose to mingle himself with the Mafia. He chose to destroy so many lives, mine being just an example among others. I shouldn't have my heart race of love for him anymore. I should hold on to the ugly feelings he brought out in me.
Like the heartbreak of knowing about his vile life after three years of common life. Like the humiliation of having to go to his trials and hear about all the numerous lives he ceased. Like the desperation I felt when I understood that he had never been fully honest with me.
"What are you doing here?" I suddenly ask, finding within me sources of unknown confidence. I watch him as he stiffens, but he doesn't turn around to look at me, which infuriates me because it makes me feel like I really am nothing to him.
"I didn't mean to wake you up," He utters in a whisper, his back still facing me, and I scowl at myself for having missed his voice so much. I try to use all my mental powers to will him to turn and face me, but of course, I don't have any, and he never faces me. It's barely if he acknowledges me, and it hurts. Because this cold shoulder is what I had been given for the past five years.
"You're supposed to be in jail," I lightly point out, and Edward resumes his initial intentions and starts rumbling through my old papers as he states the obvious with a very detached voice:
"I broke out of jail. I just needed to get something, and I'll be on my way."
"What?" I shrieked. The realisation that the only purpose of his unannounced arrival was only for a piece of paper. It's like I never even mattered to him. I can understand that he moved on during those five years, but can't he, at least, apologise? For the good times, we had together? Can't he at least pretend to care and show me a glimpse of the man he used to be back then? Just for a brief second?
"Did you stash the list of your victims in my stuff?" I sarcastically ask because we both know that the police went through all my things several times in order to look for anything mob-related.
Edward clutches his right fist as his whole body tenses up, and then he orders me with a very cold voice: "Go back to sleep, Bella."
I couldn't handle him treating me with disrespect anymore and I automatically demand, "Look at me!"
He owes it to me. He owes me this one thing, and still, he's denying it to me. He loudly sighs, passing his right hand over his face; and then he says, his voice almost pleading:
"Please, Bella. Just go back to sleep. Please."
I angrily slam the door shut and lean against it, closing my eyes as I try to swallow all the emotions running wild through my mind. Edward is back in the place that used to be our haven, in that room where we talked about the names of our future babies. Now all he cares about is some stupid piece of paper that could have been unnoticed by the police and the Feds. Not to mention the mob, because I am sure that they broke in the apartment before the Officials had the legislation to search the place.
I know that I should call the cops. I know that I should denounce Edward and send his sorry ass back to the jail where he belongs. I should completely do it, but I can't. Because no matter how much it hurts, I still love him. No matter how guilty he is, I still love him. No matter how horrible his crimes may get, I still love him.
For these past five years that he's been in jail, the idea of moving on never crossed my mind. Not even once. Not even after he refused to see me when I dragged myself in that awful place they call a prison. Not even after he refused my phone calls or my unopened letters to him that he sent back. I stubbornly stayed in love with him, because this is how damaged I am. I cannot deny that.
After two long minutes of fighting against my feelings, I decide to go to the kitchen and I pour myself a glass of freezing water so I can process all that's happening. My hands are shaking as if I have Parkinson's, and so I hold the glass tighter, straining my ear in the hope to hear him. But I don't. Like I never did. Edward has always been very good at being silent. I guess it was one of the perks of his lifestyle. I actually loved that. The fact that he could startle me out of nowhere. It was always a nice surprise for me to see him appear from thin air, with a bright smile as he would kiss me, making fun of my little jolts of fear.
Suddenly, the house phone rings; and I warily watch it, knowing who is calling. Of course, the cops would immediately call me if Edward broke out of jail. After all, I'm the only person who still cares about Edward. The only person who calls the prison to have some news from him. Of course, at first, everyone wanted a piece of him. The Feds, the cops, the mob. But that was during the trials. I'm the only one who stuck with him. I'm the only one who stayed faithful after all the mess, even if he couldn't care less.
"Don't answer that," Edward strongly demands just behind me as I'm about to answer. I inwardly curse him for still being able to startle me like that, and even more for still making my heart beat like a drum just by the sound of his voice. I spin on myself to glare at him, and I defiantly pick up the phone, silently daring him to make a scene.
"Isabell Swan," I say loud and clear, and I see a pang of pain cross his face. I know that it's not because I didn't listen to him. He reacted that way because I used my old family name. And somehow, his pain is something that I like to see. If it pains him that I went back to using my old family name, it means that he still cares at least a tiny bit.
I used to go by Isabella Cullen. I used to love using his family name. And he used to say that one day, he would make it official. That one day, we would go to a fancy church and that he would give me his name in front of God and the law. But, for obvious reasons, it never happened; and so I went back to my old family name. Mostly because I didn't want people to judge me because of the associations that went with his name. After all, his trials made it big. He was on the news covers for several months.
"Bella, this is Officer Jacob Black," Jacob says over the phone, and I can't say that I'm surprised. Jacob is the officer that helped through this mess Edward put me into.
He's the one who broke me the news about Edward's arrest. He's the one who took me to each of Edward's trials, protecting me from the paparazzi. He's the one who protected my identity when the trials went public. He's the one who calls me every week to keep me updated about Edward and his wellbeing. And he's the one who knows how hurt I am by Edward's silent and cold treatment toward me.
"I hope I'm not waking you up," He warily says, and I know that he's about to break the news. Edward longly studies my face, searching if I will rat him out or not. God! I missed his face. I missed feeling his eyes on me. I shouldn't, but I do. His face changed, though. Despite the fact that he gained muscles and that he let a beard cloud his face, something in his eyes changed. But I can't figure out what it is.
"No, not at all. You know how I love your calls, Jacob," I say with my most natural voice, and I can see how Edward tries to hide his annoyance at me calling officer Black by his first name. Especially with the word 'love' in the same sentence. But I ignore whatever it starts within me, and I ask Jacob my endless question: "How is Edward?"
"I take it that you don't know," Jacob slightly heaves, apparently not thrilled to have to tell me this. This is bringing me to a déjà-vu. When he told me that Edward had been arrested and that he had several inculpations pressed against him. I wait for a little before Jacob bluntly says: "He broke out of jail earlier in the evening."
"He did what?" I muse, my eyes still on Edward who never stopped looking at me. I feel like his golden eyes are looking right into my soul, but that doesn't make me look away in the slightest. I've been deprived of him long enough. It's barely if I hear Jacob rambling about not knowing how Edward managed to escape one of the most secured departments until he starts talking about things that make me snap my attention back to the conversation:
"We have reasons to think that he'll _"
"Don't be ridiculous," I cut him off, planting my eyes in Edward's golden and unfazed eyes, hoping that my words will somehow hurt him. "Edward has proven over the past five years that he wants nothing to do with me. And you know for a fact that there's nothing compromising here. He has absolutely no reasons to come back."
"I know. He put you through Hell," Jacob says with a condescending voice. "He doesn't deserve you."
"He sure doesn't," I curtly say, my eyes never wavering from that criminal that I shouldn't love. I can almost picture Jacob having a small smile of empathy for me over the phone, and then he says:
"I'll let you sleep. But I'm still sending a squad by your place, tomorrow morning. Just as a means of precaution."
"Okay. Thank you very much, Jacob," I tell him before hanging up.
Once the phone is back on its receiver, I look down on the floor separating Edward and me, as I tell him: "You should go. The cops will be here in the morning."
He takes a step toward me, and so I slightly up my head. I don't really meet his gaze because that would probably break me. Now that I didn't have anything but him and me to think about, I was chickening out because I was scared of what Edward might say. That he might say that I was a coverall along and that all he ever made me feel was just a lie to him. Because to me, it was very real. It still is.
"Bella, …" He doesn't finish his sentence, looking for words, and I finally see what he had been looking for. And my heart bleeds as my eyes set on the piece of paper he's holding.
"What is this?" I demandingly ask as he tells me at the exact same time:
"I'm leaving. You won't ever have to put up with my shit again."
"You came back to steal from me?!" I accuse him, deeply wounded that he risked so much for that drawing. He could have me. I'm standing right in front of him. I've just proven to him that I wouldn't rat him out, but he still holds that drawing.
And what hurts the most is the fact that it doesn't make sense. Edward did everything in his powers to make me understand that I was nothing to him. That since he was in jail, he didn't need me anymore. And now, he comes back just to steal from me that one perfect memory I made of us. A representation of the first time we kissed.
The drawing isn't even that good, and I actually wanted to throw it; but Edward was mesmerised by it, saying that it was the best thing I could have drawn. And so I kept it. We kept it. Not because it was good, but because of the emotions it withheld. It was when he saw that drawing that Edward told me that he loved me. It was this drawing that brought us back together after our one and only big fight. It was this drawing that made both of our hearts melt every time we would see it.
And now, Edward -who ignored me for five long years- came back for that lame drawing that was made so long ago. This simply doesn't make any sense
"I-I just needed this," He stutters, looking down on his shoes, and I am too blinded by rage to actually dwell on the fact that he never did either of those things before. Instead, I yell in a very angry whisper, so I won't wake the neighbours:
"Five years, Edward! You've been constantly pushing me away for five years! And the first thing you do after you break out of jail is to come back here? Not even for me, but for this piece of crap?"
"Don't call it that," He says with a pained voice.
"I call it whatever I want! I made it!" I scoff. The two of us fall silent for a moment before I cross my arms over my chest and say, resigned: "You can take it. It's not worth anything to me, anymore. I should have gotten rid of it a long time ago."
I know that if he still cares at least a little for me, the words I just said will hurt. But during those past five years, I suffered and he never seemed to care. So why should I care about him and his feelings? Edward takes a small step toward me, before stopping himself and passing his hand in his golden mane.
"I'm sorry, Bella. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to make you cry. I never meant for you to get dragged into this. When I met you, you were just a challenge. I was only trying to sleep with you. You were supposed to just be a random girl that I'd forget in the morning. But it didn't work that way. I fell in love with you. I wanted to build a life with you, for you. And I … you made me forget who I was in the first place. You made me want to be a better person … But I completely failed at that."
This is something that I didn't want to hear. I don't want his apologies when they sound so much like a farewell. I don't want him to set things right just before disappearing in the wild. I don't want closure. I just want him back. Back to the life where I was delightfully happy with the illusion of him that he sold me.
"Go Edward. Go, before my heart breaks again," I tell him, closing my eyes to contain my emotions and bringing my arms around my torso before I would crumble apart.
"I love you, Bella," He says with a sincerity that I cannot doubt, and all I can do is curse him as I hear his steps fade away.
I told him to go before my heart broke, but it's too late. I can feel it completely breaking. Piece by piece. Falling to the ground and shattering in a zillion more pieces. I do my best to stay steady as Edward walks out of the kitchen, but no matter how hard I try, I still fall on my knees, silently crying my heart out. This was the closure that I never had but never wanted. This was the thing that made me hold on to Edward all those years. That awful goodbye.
Suddenly, I feel arms around me, and even though I should push him off, I end up pulling him closer. I missed his embrace so much. I missed the warmth of his arms, the strength of his muscles, the scent of sunshine that was so peculiar about him. I missed him. I feel him stiffen a little, but I don't let him pull away from me. I want him. I want to know if my memories of him are cheating me or not. I want him to show me how much he cares for me, how much he loves me. I want more than words, I want actions.
And so, I tilt my head a little to find his familiar touch. His lips automatically respond to this familiar pressure that my own lips give them, but Edward suddenly breaks our kiss before saying through gritted teeth: "Don't do this to me, Bella."
"You're the one who toyed with my heart for all those years. You're the one who comes back in the middle of the night and who says that you still loved me. And I'm the bad guy?" I stared at him with wide eyes.
He looks at me, clearly torn on whether he should kiss me again or not; and so I make the decision for him. I place one of my hands on his jaw and wrap my other around the base of his neck, pulling him towards me. At first, he tried resisting, but then, it was as if a dam broke. In a matter of seconds, he tackles me against the wall of the kitchen, his lips hard on mine as his hands furiously wind up my bare thighs.
I moan under his touch, noticing that his body had gotten stronger in prison, and I let passion take over me. I jerk my head on the side so Edward can kiss me on the juncture between my neck and shoulder; and when he starts to expertly suck on it, I moan even louder. I missed him so much, and if this is going to be my last night ever with him, I want to remember it until I die of Alzheimer's.
Suddenly, Edward stops all the wonderful things he's been doing to me, and he rests his forehead in the crook of my neck as disappointment and frustration take over me. Slowly, but surely, I start fulminating within, while Edward stays incredibly calm and still against me.
"I can't, Bella. I can't do this to you," He says with angst and it makes me wonder what's wrong with him. He has been in jail for five years, he should be thrilled to have a woman willing to put out for him. Where did the myth go? You know, that myth saying that men who just got out of prison are like horny wild animals. Because Edward is anything but a horny animal at the moment.
"Please, Edward," I whimper with a really needy voice, clinging tighter to him. "Please, fuck me and make me forget about those past five years."
At those words, Edward snaps his head back to look deep into my eyes. Then, he gently caresses my face, his golden eyes sparkling with that emotion that I missed so much over the years: love. Longly, he analyses me, before he says in a whisper: "I don't want to fuck you. I want to make love to you. So hard that you'll think of me every time a guy will even look at you. But this isn't fair for you, baby."
"I don't care about fair. I want you. Please, Edward. Make it up for those years of pain and agony. You owe it to me."
I see hurt cross his face, but I don't find it in myself to feel guilty about it. I just want him to kiss me again. I want to taste his lips all over again, feel how right they feel against mine. I want him to make me collapse of pleasure. I want my Edward back. The one I knew before everything happened. My Edward.
And finally, Edward leans in to kiss me. As we kiss, Edward moves and starts leading us towards the bedroom we used to share. Nothing really changed since he left. Nothing except the fact that he no longer slept by my side every night.
With soft gentleness, Edward lays me on the bed and looks at me as if I were the most precious thing in the world. For a moment, I feel like the past five years never happened. Like we're just back to being us, a young happy couple. Engaged and in love.
As if he heard my thoughts, Edward's golden orbs slowly drift to my left hand and linger on the ring he offered me all those years ago. That ring is the proof that he once gave me his heart. The ring is quite simple, but I love it. It's a silver ring with an emerald in the shape of a rounded triangle because Edward said that it matched my eyes perfectly. The silver encircles the emerald, and there are two little drops of diamond on it as well. I remember being concerned with the price he must have paid for such a ring, but Edward dismissed my worries, soothing me with his loving voice and saying that there was nothing he wouldn't give me, even if it meant doing the worst. At the time, I just thought it was romantic of him to say so, I didn't know that a part of him was serious.
Slowly, Edward peels me out of the shirt I slept in, one of his shirts; and once I'm in nothing but my black lace undergarments, he leans in and kisses every bit of skin his lips encounter. His fingers gently graze my body up and down as I can feel how turned on he is against my thighs. But I couldn't do anything about it. I'm too consumed by how he's making me feel at this moment. He's everywhere, making me look for air like a breathless maniac.
When he starts sucking on one of my nipples, I feel that familiar twist in my lower stomach, the feeling that only Edward ever brought me; and then one of his hands creeps between my thighs, asking. I open my legs for him in response, making Edward growl against my chest as he plunges two fingers in me. His thumb rubs circles on my clit, and I can't help but start panting. I've missed this so much that I don't know if I'll be able to last as long. Probably not.
Edward lets go of my breast, and I can feel his gaze on me as he adds yet another finger in me and starts mercilessly pumping into me. "I want you so bad, baby," He says in a very husky voice, and beyond comprehension, I manage to answer him:
"Then do. Take me. Now. Please."
Edward doesn't wait a single second, and he buries himself in me with a low growl of satisfaction. I wrap my four limbs around him, desperately wanting to make one with him again, sharing yet another passionate kiss as he rams in me with such force and ardour.
Before I can even register it, his pace increases, making the bed move a little more forcefully each time he pounds into me, and my eyes roll to the back of my head. I know he's close. I can fee itl in the way he holds me. I can hear it in the way he grunts my name, saying how much he missed me. I can see it in the pure lust gleaming in his eyes.
Edward reaches a hand between our intertwined bodies and plays with my clit as he tells me: "Come with me, baby. Let me see that face you make, once again. Let me see that face that I've missed so much over the past five years."
And just as he says those words, I can feel the stars falling on me and my soul leave my body. I start shaking and trembling beneath Edward, my eyes closed as my face is distorted by this intense pleasure, and Edward pounds even harder in me. I know how much he likes watching me climax, and that it often triggered his own orgasm, just like it does right now. I spasm beneath him for what seems to last forever, clamping his member with my inner walls and exhaling the last breath of air lingering in my lungs.
Edward collapses on top of me, all sweaty and out of breath; and I can't help but smile. He used to automatically roll on the side because he didn't want to 'crush me under his weight', but I always liked feeling him on top of me. I always liked feeling his heart slowly fall into the same cadence as mine through our connected chests. I always liked feeling that we could still be one, even after our lovemaking. And so, after a while, Edward stopped rolling on the side and stayed on top of me. I never had to tell him, he just knew.
I know I should be exhausted by what Edward just gave me, but I've never been more awake. The knowledge that he is soon going to disappear forever from my life is crumbling my heart. Maybe he was right. Maybe I shouldn't have done this to myself. I should have let him go and mourn him afterwards. Now what? Will I even be able to go back to this survival I was in during those past five years? Will I even be able to survive knowing that I'll never see him again?
For I don't know how long, Edward stays on me, caressing my cheek all the while kissing the skin of my shoulder every once in a while. And suddenly, out of nowhere, without a single warning, I can feel him grow again inside of me. The thought that just being next to me can make him hard makes me wet, and so I clench my inner walls around him, bucking my hips to him.
Edward ups himself on his elbows and starts gently going in and out of me, his eyes boring into mines before he asks: "Are you okay with round two?"
I eagerly nod, already feeling this little twist in my lower stomach as a new wave of warmth goes all the way down my spine; and then I raise my hand to caress his bearded cheek. Edward closes his eyes, leaning into my touch with a small smile; and after feeling him sliding in and out for a couple of more times, I tell him: "Don't hold back, Edward. Make it count. I want to see your face every time I close my eyes."
Edward snaps open his eyes, smirking at me as lust lingers on his face, and I know he'll give me what I want. He knows how I like it rough, his fingers planted in my skin are proof enough. He starts giving me short and hard thrusts, making me yelp each time a little higher before he suddenly flips me and sets me on my knees. Before I can even anticipate the upcoming pleasure, Edward pounds back into me, hitting me somewhere special as his hands are steady me so he can thrust in me as he wishes.
I jerk my head backwards, panting his name, and he strongly knots his fist in my hair while his other hand pinches my nipples. I can feel myself wet for him, and when his hand in my hair gets even tighter, I moan out loud of pleasure. Edward groans before slapping my butt cheek in that teasing way that turns me on so much. I can already feel myself on the verge of coming, but I know that he's not ready; and still, he leans and plays with my clit as he whispers in my ear, pounding so hard into me that I'm starting to see stars: "Don't hold back for me. This is for you. Let go, Bella."
I try to fight, but Edward knows my own body better than I do. He nibbles my sweet spot on my collarbone, and I groan out of pleasure, dripping wet on his manhood as I'm riding my orgasm on his hard member. It seems to last forever, but Edward keeps on playing with me until I'm completely drained. When I'm just a mess of limbs barely holding it together, he rolls to the side, taking me in his arms but never removing himself from inside me.
I can feel how hard he still is, and so -after waiting a few minutes to regain some energy from that Earth-shattering orgasm- I decide to give him that something that he used to like so much. I retrieve myself from him, not liking the cold sensation that I feel once Edward is no longer buried inside me; and then I kneel in front of him.
I plant my eyes in his golden ones, and I can see that he's about to protest. But before he can argue, I take him in my mouth. It takes me a few seconds to accommodate to my own taste on him, but then, my instincts take over. Just like old times. Edward sucks in air through his gritted teeth, completely enjoying what my mouth is doing to him. In a brusk move, his hands are in my hair, and his hips are thrusting upward. I take him even deeper, gagging a little, but knowing that he likes that noise; and then I let him take control of my mouth.
And he does. My name keeps on calling on his lips, as he pounds into my mouth, and I love that effect I have on him. That little control that I have because I could pull out at any moment and leave him frustrated. That way my mouth can make him so crazy. I just love it.
"Babe, I'm so fucking close!" Edward growls in a husky murmur before he releases with a groan of pure delectation.
I swallow, noting somewhere in my mind that his alcohol deprived lifestyle changed his taste for the better; and then, Edward brings me back up to his arms. He longly and passionately kisses me, despite the fact that I just went down on him (this is something that he always made a point of doing); and then he hums me a lullaby. That one lullaby that he used to hum me when I was blue or a little sad, or when I had a nightmare.
I know that he's trying to put me to sleep so he can leave without heartbreaking goodbyes, and so I quiet my breathing to the point where he judges that I'm sleeping. I feel him sit on the bed, and for the longest time, he doesn't do anything. He just stays there, and I can feel him staring at me. And for as long as he stays in that position, my heart keeps hoping that he will stay with me, that we will work something up so we can stay together. But then, he gets up and I hear him getting dressed.
I try very hard to keep my eyes closed, and pretend to sleep, fighting against my tears; when suddenly, I feel his hot breath on my face. He longly and lovingly kisses my forehead and whispers, "I'm so sorry, Bella. I really am. We never should have crossed paths and yet, I can't bring myself to regret our meeting. I can only regret that my life hurt you. I promise you that you won't have to bear with that shit I brought upon you any longer. I'm sorry about the heartbreak and the tears you'll have in the morning, but I really needed to come and get this drawing. I know that you don't think much of it, that you never had, but you have no idea what it means to me. I need my piece of courage, and this is it."
Does he know that I'm faking? I don't think so. He leans and kisses me again on the forehead, but this time it's even longer. Brushing my hair with his callous fingers and then, he's gone. I open my eyes just in time to watch him close the door of my bedroom, and I stare blankly at it. Wishing that he had asked me to follow him. I know the reason he didn't. I know that he'll be on the run and that means that he and I will never be able to build something together. But I still wish he did. For two long minutes, I keep on staring at the door, until I decide that it's time for me to move on with that ghost of a life I have.
After dressing up in a pair of black jeans and a black blouse, I throw my black jacket over my shoulders and walk to the door of my apartment. I didn't take anything. Just the few bucks I had in my purse. No credit cards, no phone, no subway card. Nothing that can trace me. Just me and my new resolution. I'm pretty sure it's time for me to move on. Where I was pushed over by everyone's decisions. The cops', the Feds', the mob's and Edward's. After all, he was the one who put me in that state I was in by refusing to acknowledge me. It's time for me to put my foot down and impose my own decisions.
And so, as I close the door to my apartment, as is the door of my past life, I glance at my ring still in my finger and smile to myself.
I'm on a roll.
❌THE END❌
❌PLEASE DO NOT COPY, DOWNLOAD OR SHARE THIS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE❌
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💚Your thoughts and opinions are always welcomed💚
💚For those reading this for the first time, what do you think will happen?
💚 Stephenie Meyer owns the names of the characters from the Twilight, Everything else is mine (including the mistakes and grammar errors).
Love, Mina 💚💚💚