"Rosalie, Darling, it's Mommy. I hope you had a good Christmas and New Year's Eve. We still haven't heard from you, and we're worried. Could you give us a call when you get a chance? Daddy and I went to dinner with some friends last night. It was good, but we wish you could have joined us. Are you planning on coming back home soon? I don't understand what's gotten into—"

Rosalie cuts the voicemail to an end early, setting her phone down on the couch beside her and turning her attention to her freshly made toast and coffee.

"What kind of cereal do you have?" Emmett wonders aloud, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. "Special K with red berries...Okay, I can work with that. And...almond milk! Sweet!"

She flips on the TV. The Rose Parade is starting.

Across the room, Emmett continues to open and shut drawers in quick succession. He's making himself at home, but he still hasn't figured out where everything is yet.

"Silverware is on the right," she says.

"Found it!"

She takes a bite of her breakfast and chews it slowly, watching the elaborate floats, horses, and bands march across the screen.

"Who called?" Emmett asks.

"My mother."

"Did you wanna call her back?"

She takes another bite of toast. "Not particularly."

"Have you told them?"

She hates that question. "No. Not yet."

"They're your parents. I'm sure they'd be understanding if you told them your reason for leaving the city and calling off the wedding and stuff," he says.

That's easy to say when you've never met her parents. Their expectations and conscientiousness levels are higher than most.

"When Jasper and I were twelve, our puppy died in a boating accident at the lake. Jasper cried, and our parents sent him away to a military academy the next year to toughen him up," she recounts dully. "Their strengths are in social climbing and maintaining appearances, not compassion."

"Damn, okay." Emmett pauses to eat a spoonful of cereal. "I wonder what happened with Edward and Bella after we left last night."

From one topic she hates to another.

"Ugh. They're so annoying. First off, as much as I'd love to see him get absolutely demolished, Edward's a dumbass if he thinks he can win a fight against Jasper. Second, how does someone manage to trip that badly that they fall practically head-first into a stack of glasses?"

Emmett chuckles and shrugs. "Dunno. I'm sure I'll get to hear plenty about it as soon as I get back home."

Her phone buzzes and she glances over at it, expecting another message from her mother or father. Instead, she sees Vera's name.

Happy New Year! Wish you would come visit! Henry and I miss you! the text message reads.

Rosalie stares at the attached picture of Vera and her baby, dressed in matching emerald green—her in a dress and him in a little bowtie, shirt and trousers—in their sunny little breakfast nook. She can see the reflection of Vera's husband Frank in the window.

She looks up at Emmett, who's still shoveling cereal into his mouth as he replies to a Snapchat. She tries to imagine them together with a baby in a breakfast nook too but gives up the second she pictures him buying a tiny sports jersey and tennis shoes.

It's dangerous thinking. She doesn't need to do that to herself. Now of all times, a bought of baby fever would be less than ideal.

This should be a peaceful morning, but she feels that it isn't. She should be happy, but she's not really. She doesn't feel good.

She's overwhelmingly frustrated, and for a moment she thinks it's because she's jealous of Vera and her cute little family living in their cute little house.

That's not it, though, and trying to mentally find flaws in her friend's life does nothing to quell her unrest.

She's angry because this time last year, she thought she could have that with Royce.

She's upset that she wasted months planning a wedding for some asshole who doesn't deserve it.

She's furious that he and his friends are all probably still out there living their lives like normal, enjoying their holiday and drinking fancy wine in their cabins in the mountains.

She's absolutely livid that the only thing keeping her from enjoying right now is that she's still caught up in the aftermath of that night. Not only did he destroy their relationship and any respect she had for him, but he managed to affect her future relationship with someone else entirely in a completely different city.

He's burned a permanent hole in her life that's never going to heal. It's not fair.

She wants to find contentment within herself, but she also wants them to lie awake at night, unable to sleep soundly because they're so anxious—just like she has for months.

She wants them to suffer.

She wants revenge. She wants blood.

"I found my New Year's resolution," Rosalie decides. "I'm going to press charges."

"Hello?"

"Hey, I'm out front. Can you come down?" Edward asks. "We need to talk."

Bella's voice crackles through the car speaker system. "Oh, sure! One sec."

His eyelids feel heavy and his head aches from a restless night.

The New Year's Eve party was a disaster.

In an effort to protect Bella—to keep her from the dangers of the world—he's only made things worse.

He's no better than the people he'd condemned. A failure. A loser.

He hasn't talked to Alice yet, but he's certain their friendship's ruined. Emmett is mad at him for trying to fight his new best bud Jasper. Carlisle and Esme were practically oozing disappointment when they saw him in the morning.

He rubs his shoulder. It feels bruised.

The only upside to the entire situation is that Jasper didn't really try to fight him back. He only pushed him away after Edward tried to throw a punch. Unsuccessfully.

Bella didn't seem too happy with him either. He isn't sure she even realizes the importance of surrounding herself with positive influences and how much others' misgivings can affect her if she's not careful. Their run-in with James was proof of that. Her weakness is being too trusting and kind.

Alice doesn't get it either. Edward's exceedingly irritated with how she chooses to date quite possibly the worst person she could find. What makes her think she can parade Jasper around their friends and act like he's not some kind of strung-out, undergrad felon? Is she trying to get herself and her friends arrested? Stalked? Killed? Who does she think she's fooling saying things like Jasper isn't dangerous?

He feels himself getting mad all over again. He knows he hurt Alice, but how else would he make it clear that she's wrong and making a mistake? She can't be friends with Bella and him and date Jasper. If she's going to ruin her life, he won't let her take them with her.

Bella comes out of her apartment building in an oversized sweatshirt and jeans. Her navy sneakers are worn out and torn along the edges. Her hair falls down her shoulder in soft waves.

She's too perfect for him. Too good. He doesn't deserve her.

Edward steps out of the car. "I was thinking we could go on a walk."

"Here?"

"Yeah," he says, starting down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace. They walk in silence for a moment, and he stops when they cross the street to a grassy patch of trees. It's not exactly a park or anything—just an empty space between roads. "I want to talk about last night."

He doesn't want to do this, but he has to.

"That was kind of a short walk," she says, biting her lip.

"Yeah." He sighs tensely. "Bella, I think we need a break."

"We're still on a break, though. School isn't back in session for a few days," she replies. "Do you mean spring break?"

The knot in his chest clenches. He hates this. His throat burns from trying to maintain composure.

"When you say break, you mean...from each other..?" she asks meekly, piecing his words together.

"Yeah."

She still looks hopeful, her dark eyes watching only him, studying his expression. "For how long?"

"I'm not sure. I...need to try to work some things out. It might be indefinitely."

His heart grows heavy. Her face falls.

There's no way he'd be able to live with himself if he tried to stay with her when he can't give her everything she wants or deserves. He doesn't know how to be with her without constantly making the wrong decisions. There's so much pressure to do the right thing.

"This isn't because I got hurt last night, is it? I told you I'm fine!"

"It's not just last night. It's...so many things. There are so many things going wrong. I'm not good for you," he says darkly. "I don't want to ruin your life or waste your time. You should be enjoying yourself, and instead, you're facing problem after problem because of me. It shouldn't be this difficult."

"Because of James and the ski trip or whatever stupid virtue you think I have? I'm clumsy and I fall a lot. There are a lot of hills here—we're in Washington, after all. And bad people are everywhere," she argues. "Relationships are hard work. They're...supposed to be difficult. You weather life's struggles together and stuff!"

"Not like this. Your other friends wouldn't have put you in a situation like what happened last night." He runs his hand down his face. "I'm going abroad next quarter for a piano program. I was going to pass on it, but it seems like it might be a good idea now."

He can't continue to destroy her life. He won't keep holding her back and making her feel like she's worth anything less than the world.

He's pretending to be the perfect fit, but it's pushing him into fights, obsession, and immorality. He doesn't like how he acts when he's around her, and he needs to figure out better resolutions to problems.

Maybe they're just not meant to be.

What kind of boyfriend would he be if he continued selfishly leading her on to think he's the one? She said it herself: she needs someone who's in the same life stage as her. Someone with the same social group. Someone with the same values.

Someone that's not him.

"Where to? I'll come with you! I can take online classes and quit my job to do remote tutoring or something," she proposes.

Edward shakes his head. "I don't want you to come. I need time to think."

"You're leaving me. You don't want me anymore..." she trails off.

"No." He regrets the word as soon as it leaves his mouth, but he can't take it back now.

Bella's eyes start to well up with tears. Her bottom lip quivers. "Edward..."

Before his resolve breaks, he turns and walks to his car without her. His heart is split in two.

I love you. Jasper wakes up with the sweetest words echoing softly in his head.

He opens his eyes and sees that it's morning. Outside the window, it looks like it's raining still. Alice is sitting up next to him in her pale gold pajamas, tapping away at her phone screen.

She sees that he's awake and smiles.

He was expecting revulsion or—at the very least—pity for his weakness last night. Maybe even fear. He expected to be deemed unlovable several times over.

I love you. The words are difficult to absorb.

Jasper looks down at the short-sleeved t-shirt he's wearing and knows it wasn't a dream. She really said it.

I love you.

Even if he doesn't deserve it, it feels undeniably good to bask in those words and soak up Alice's bright, exuberant energy.

She's exactly who he's been wanting all along. The one he didn't even know he was searching for.

"Morning," she chirps, dropping her phone and laying down beside him. She kisses him with exceeding gentleness. Her lips just barely graze his own.

He feels slightly hungover, and his throat and eyes are dry, but it's not the worst he's ever felt by far.

Another wave of guilt washes over him as he remembers how he caved and relapsed into his old habits.

He almost didn't see her last night because he was afraid of showing up so drunk.

She should be angry with him. He certainly hates himself for how he'd acted. He got into a fight with one of her best friends and indirectly injured the other.

"I feel really bad about what happened with Edward and Bella," Jasper says in place of a greeting.

She rests on top of him, her arms wriggling under his to hug his chest as she makes herself comfortable. "I told you I'd talk to them later. It'll be alright."

"I'm sorry your friends had to see me like that. And I'm sorry that you had to go out of your way for me. I messed up again."

She shakes her head and gives him a sympathetic look. "I know you're trying. I'm proud of you, so don't be too hard on yourself. Like I said, I'll talk with Edward and Bella later, so don't worry about it."

Her answer isn't much, but he can feel the anxious tension and guilt still clouding his thoughts start to slip away. The effect she has on him is apparent. She seems to be hardly doing anything at all, but he finds her proximity undeniably comforting.

"What are we?" Jasper blurts out sleepily.

Alice laughs. "Humans, I think."

He shakes his head, closing his eyes for a moment, still trying to fully wake up. He hears the heater in the room kick on.

"I want to be your girlfriend," she says.

His heart skips a beat. "I think you are already."

At least that's how he's thought of her lately.

"Oh, good!" she replies. "When you said you love me did you mean you love-love me or just regular love me? Or was it like you drunk love me?"

"What?" He laughs.

She rolls her eyes. "You're the one who started the questioning! On a scale of one to one-hundred, how much would you say you love me?"

She's being silly now. What kind of a question is that?

Jasper answers her with a kiss. There aren't words to describe what it is that he feels. His only hope is that he can return even half of the love that she gives him.

He rests his hands on her lower back. When they break away all too soon, he leans up to kiss her again.

Alice gives him a curious expression, her cheeks the faintest shade of pink. "I take it you're feeling better."

"Uh-huh," he murmurs, leaning in again. "Relax your jaw."

She catches on when he traces her lower lip with his tongue. Her airy giggle between kisses makes him smile.

He's kissed and been kissed plenty of times before, but this feels different.

Overwhelming feelings of love and acceptance make dwelling on his past failures next to impossible. She's right. There's always a fresh start. He can try again today, tomorrow, and every day after that.

With Alice at his side giving him her support and encouragement, he'll be okay.

Edward drives aimlessly through the city, not paying attention to the signs or exits he takes. He hopes that eventually he'll end up in a place that doesn't feel like agony.

Beethoven's "Moonlight" blares over the stereo so loud he can't hear his own pathetic sniveling.

He loves her, so he has to let her go. And Tennyson was wrong: it isn't better to love and lose. He wishes he never attempted to initiate anything. He should have never tried to follow her or get to know her or invite her over night after night.

He knew all along that it was too good to be true, and he tried to make it happen anyway.

Edward considers driving up to Canada for the rest of the week, or maybe down to Portland. He can go to the mountains or the beach.

He has to get out of the city. His car won't make the drive anywhere far enough without needing to charge, though, and he doesn't want to sit stagnant with his own thoughts.

The airport. That's his ticket out. There's still a week before classes start back up, but it won't hurt to leave early, he supposes.

Taking the next exit back toward Bellevue, Edward speeds home to the east side. He parks in the driveway behind Esme's SUV and tries to take deep breaths.

He feels like an idiot for letting himself fall so hard for someone. There's a reason why he's always been alone, and it's because that's how things are for him. He knows deep down that he's not meant to be in love. He always has and always will be bad at it.

Pulling up the list of flights for the night, he picks an 11 pm red-eye for Florence, Italy. It's still only mid-afternoon now, so he has plenty of time to get to the airport.

He rubs at his eyes with the back of his sleeve, sniffling.

He's sure Bella will be better off without him. She's finally free to go back to being her wonderful self that she was before they started dating and he began inadvertently crushing her—stifling her ability to thrive.

Unfortunately, Esme's in the living room when he gets inside.

"Oh, Edward. Are you okay?" she coos.

He shakes his head and heads into his room to pack his things. He grabs some clothes and shoves them in a duffle bag without paying much attention to what he's picking.

"Are you going somewhere?" he hears Esme ask from the doorway.

"Italy. For the fine arts program I was accepted into. I can take my law courses online, so I don't need to be here anyway."

"I thought you turned that down."

"I did. I changed my mind." He sighs, shoving a toothbrush and his Macbook into the duffle.

Alice's voice unexpectedly drifts in from the hallway. "What's happening?"

"Edward's going to Italy," Esme answers in a melancholy tone.

"He is? Edward, what about school and Bella and—"

Sadness wells up in his chest suddenly and is quickly overtaken by sharp irritation. Isn't she supposed to be a psychic?

"Bella and I broke up. It's over. She needs to spend time around people who are good for her," he snaps. "That means you're not going to bother her."

"It was an accident, Edward. She's my friend..."

"I don't care. You and Jasper both need to stay away from her. Haven't you done enough? You're unbelievably self-centered."

He grabs his bag off of the bed and heads out the door. Alice is staring at him wide-eyed but silent.

Esme follows him downstairs. "Are you sure you don't want to stay a couple more days before you go? Carlisle won't be able to see you off if you leave now. I can make you your favorite ravioli for dinner," she offers. She thinks she's helping, but she's not. He doesn't need sympathy.

He wants to be alone and as far away from Seattle as he can get. He can't think here.

If he's in Italy, he might finally have the space to figure out what's wrong with him and why he can't have normal, healthy relationships.

If not, at least he won't be able to hurt anyone he cares about on the other side of the planet.

"Will you call when you land?" Esme asks worriedly.

Without answering, he grabs his jacket out of the coat closet and leaves out the front door.