Chapter 3

For the last couple hours of school that day, Bella felt like there was a rock sitting in the pit of her stomach.

She had seen Edward that morning, waking up in his arms just before he had to abruptly leave when Charlie came in earlier than usual to bring her a birthday present. He showed back up at her door after Charlie left, minus his Volvo, intent on driving her to school in her own truck, for reasons she was highly suspicious had something to do with her birthday.

He had wished her happy birthday when she opened the door, and he kissed her sweetly. Then he'd spun her around and kissed her less sweetly, up against that door, until her knees threatened to just give out completely.

He was clearly less than thrilled about Jake showing up at school and bringing her a birthday present when she wouldn't let Edward give her gifts, but otherwise, he had still been the typical, devoted, loving Edward she was used to.

Then he had mysteriously cut out of school at lunch to go home with Alice and help her with something he wouldn't discuss...most likely a birthday party, she knew, a truly cringe-worthy thought. He'd dropped just enough hints to keep her from worrying it was anything worse, a sweet gesture even if she felt mildly betrayed that he was in on the party madness.

But as the afternoon at school wore on, she started to develop the uneasy feeling that something was wrong.

So that rock in her stomach turned into a full-fledged boulder when she pulled into her driveway after school and saw Carlisle's car, with him standing somberly beside it. Her dad was still at work, his cruiser nowhere to be seen.

She threw her truck into park, tumbling out the door at roughly the same time. Oh, God, for the first time, she truly hoped this had something to do with a surprise party. A massive one, with the whole school, her dad, the entire town of Forks there, every single one of them with presents in hand. She'd even make a speech. Anything if it just meant that something terrible hadn't happened.

"Carlisle? What's wrong?" Her voice shook as she ran toward him because she knew — she just already knew — that this had nothing to do with a party.

She was right about that. Carlisle's eyes were serious, his voice grave. "I need to talk to you, Bella. Please, could we have a seat on your porch?"

Woodenly, her legs carried her to the porch. She sat down right on the steps, unable to make it any further. Carlisle perched gracefully beside her.

"Where is he?" Bella pleaded. "What's going on?"

"Bella, I need for you to listen to me. And please keep in mind that Edward is only doing this for your protection."

"Doing what?" Fear held her heart in an icy grip. "Is this about Victoria?"

Carlisle's eyes were filled with sympathy. "No. It's solely about you, as with most decisions Edward makes. Alice had a vision, one that we don't understand at the moment. But it convinced Edward that he's a danger to you. He's decided to leave Forks, as a means of keeping you safe."

Bella's mouth fell open, her head shaking back and forth. "I don't under — what kind of — oh my God, Carlisle, what did Alice see?"

Carlisle shook his head. "I won't tell you the specifics and neither will Alice. Edward doesn't know I'm here. He did, however, ask that the rest of us protect you in his absence. I'm doing that the best way I know how, by sharing as much of the truth as possible with you. But the details are his to tell you, and his alone, if he so chooses.

"I'm not certain of the meaning of Alice's vision, but my family will protect you, Bella. We won't interfere in your life beyond that, as per my son's wishes, but we will protect you. You are part of our family now, with or without Edward."

Tears filled her eyes, but she barely felt them. An ache had started in her heart, one that began spreading throughout her chest. Her voice was a tiny, hopeless sound. "Is he coming back?"

Carlisle's eyes were haunted. He sighed. "I wish I knew the answer to that, Bella. I wish I knew."

Carlisle saw her safely into the house before he left, reassuring her that someone would check in with her soon. They would have a protection detail organized before nightfall, although he hadn't told her exactly what they were trying to protect her from, and she didn't ask. It seemed unimportant, all things considered.

His taillights had barely disappeared before she was back in her truck. She had no idea where she was going. But she couldn't sit in that house alone, waiting for Charlie to come home prepared to celebrate her birthday, in a place where everything she saw made her think of him, and pretend that the entire world hadn't just crashed at her feet.

She had known he wasn't coming back before the words were out of Carlisle's mouth. She couldn't say how. She just knew.

She didn't go to the Cullens' house. She already knew he wasn't there. She drove aimlessly for a while, until well after dark. She cried her eyes out.

Eventually, she ran into a massive fallen tree limb across the road, somewhere way out in the woods on a secluded road she didn't know, because she couldn't see through the tears. She ended up skidding off the road.

Her truck was many things. Equipped with airbags was not, however, one of them.

She didn't have a phone, and her truck refused to crank again. Dazed, pretty sure her head was bleeding, she got out and started walking, pulling her jacket closer around her.

It started to rain, of course. It was Forks...or somewhere close by, since she didn't really know where she was. Either way, it wasn't like the odds were stacked against rain. She was a long way from her truck, and an even longer way from home, when the bottom fell out and it started to pour. She stumbled into the woods, shivering, looking for a dry place to shelter.

She knew better than that. Of course she did. Getting lost in the woods was all too easy, even for the locals. Charlie had started drilling that into her head when she was two. She stumbled further into the trees anyway and just kept putting one foot in front of the other. When she collapsed from pure exhaustion, she didn't try to get up.

That was the whole idea, after all, whatever it might say about her sanity. She'd known that since the moment she started driving.

He would find her. It was Edward. He'd promised never to abandon her, reassured her of his presence over and over again that awful week after she got home from the hospital, the week she'd been terrified of exactly this.

He knew what scared her most. There was no way he wouldn't come for her.

Emmett Cullen had been cultivating a theory, for a while, that he was becoming immune to the smell of Bella Swan's blood.

He didn't usually test that theory, because he had sort of become accustomed to having the funny little human around, and Edward was generally less of a mopey pain in the ass with her there anyway. But he was pretty sure he was becoming immune, nonetheless. He'd been exposed to it more than a few times. She was Isabella Swan. She couldn't walk across a flat surface without tripping over something invisible. She bled a LOT.

But she was also funny as hell, she was going to be his little sister one day, and he would happily rip anything or anyone that threatened her into tiny pieces. Okay, he'd happily rip stuff into tiny pieces with no motivation whatsoever, but if something threatened Bella, he'd mean it.

So when he was the one to find her — finally — he didn't stop to call Carlisle, despite the dried blood smeared all over her forehead. Carlisle would tell him to leave her alone unless danger was imminent, to just watch over her from a safe distance until either the police or the wolves could find her. Theirs wasn't the only search party out in the woods. Blah, blah, blah, he'd heard the whole lecture before he came out there. Edward didn't want them to interfere.

Well, fuck that. She didn't belong to the wolves. She belonged to them. All of them.

He did, though, put his earpiece in and call Jasper, who had been with him when they found Bella's truck and decided to split up to look for her. The heavy rain had diluted her scent.

He warned him to go the other way instead of meeting back up with him. Danger, Will Robinson. Retreat. Blood. He'd hate to have to rip one of Jasper's arms off. Mostly because a truly pissed off Alice was one terrifying little pixie who might actually be able to hurt him, but damned if he'd admit that. Not to anybody.

Jasper annoyed him instantly by choosing that day to start channeling Carlisle. "So what are you going to do now? You know we're not supposed to interfere."

Emmett wasn't listening. He was already close enough to carefully test his theory. He inhaled, just the tiniest breath. Yep. Very little urge to turn his human sister into a snack. So he held his breath and picked her up before he bothered answering Jasper, deciding to slowly ease back into breathing as he did so. He wanted to just hang up, but he didn't. Distractions were awesome.

"I'm not interfering. Hey, Bella...can you hear me? What'd you trip over this time?"

Jasper's voice snorted in his ear. "Yeah, clearly not interfering in any way. Carlisle's going to be pissed. Not to mention Edward."

Bella was completely out of it, or he would have toned down his answer. Probably. Maybe. There was a slight chance. "Yeah, fuck Edward."

Jasper chuckled. "I'd rather not, thanks. Not my type."

"This little girl is colder than me right now. Ed's just lucky I don't beat his ass."

Jasper's sigh sounded in Emmett's ear. He was getting ready to start sounding like Carlisle again. Emmett could hear it coming. When did Jasper stop being the fun brother? Stick-in-the-mud was a role Emmett had mentally held reserved for Edward for several decades, not newbie-Jasper.

"Well...I'd say get in line, but I literally got to feel everything he was feeling today. It wasn't pretty. How would you react if you saw something like that about you and Rose?"

Emmett rolled his eyes. This crap again?

"I don't know. Probably like I'm sick of her being everybody's favorite low blow any time something remotely like this comes up? Or like she moved past all that decades ago, and I wish everybody else would just let her? She's perfectly capable of handing my ass to me if I tried some kind of shit with her. Which I know I wouldn't anyway, so if it was about us, I guess I'd just get over myself and we'd move the fuck on and not sweat it."

He wasn't really expecting Jasper to laugh. "That's more words than I've heard you say since the day I met you. Touch a nerve much?"

"Shut up. Edward can still shove his stupid rules."

"Alice would agree. So where are you taking Bella? Just so I can make myself scarce."

"Anybody else find the truck yet?" Emmet asked.

"Not yet. There's nothing out here for miles."

"Then I'm putting her back in it, turning the heat on, and making an anonymous 911 call about a piece-of-shit orange nightmare abandoned on the side of the road. She doesn't freeze to death, nobody ever knows we were here, and Eddie has nothing to bitch about. Badda-bing."

He could almost hear Jasper's eyebrow go up. "Not bad."

"You don't have to sound so surprised, asshole."

He was juggling klutzo-Bella and trying not to focus on the blood on her forehead, so he still didn't manage to disconnect the call at his earpiece before he had to hear his brother's stupid chuckle again.

It took a little doing, because apparently now Bella was a menace behind the wheel as well as on foot, but he managed to get her battered truck to splutter to life again and got the heat going full blast. Rosie could have done it faster, but that didn't really bother him so much. He was kinda proud of that fact.

He still didn't stray too far until a patrol car got there and he knew Bella was safely on her way back to Charlie Swan.

Then he breathed a sigh of relief — and fresh air — and pulled out his phone. He got good and comfortable in the tree he'd been lounging in to keep watch.

He'd already given one brother an earful tonight.

It was past time for the other one to get one too. It was at least partly because Edward deserved it for taking off. But it was mostly because he was worried about him. Not that he'd ever admit that either.

After his brother hung up, Edward sat in his parked car in silence, head on the steering wheel, clutching his phone in his hand so tightly that it threatened to crack.

He hadn't really thought this all the way through. Emmett's phone call had made that crystal clear.

He nearly hadn't answered the phone. He wasn't as entirely resolved in his decision to leave as he would like, and he was getting less resolved with every mile he put between himself and Bella. He didn't need anyone trying to talk him out of it again, not when he was all too willing to be talked out of it.

But it was Emmett calling. Emmett, who had been the most sincere, by far, in his promise to protect Bella for him. He couldn't not answer.

He regretted that decision instantly.

The first 30 seconds was, essentially, a string of profanities and insults that was impressive even for Emmett.

That, he was used to. But he very nearly lost control of his car — undoubtedly a first for a vampire — when Emmett recounted the events of the night. That was when he pulled off the isolated road and dropped his head to the wheel, clutching the steering column and willing himself not to turn around.

He should be putting more distance between himself and Bella, but at that moment, staying put and not turning around was about as noble as he could be. He felt an invisible pull back toward Forks that was a near physical force. The urge to run back to his mate, to see for himself that she was okay, was overwhelming.

He'd been gone less than a day. He hadn't even decided on a final destination yet. And already, Bella had wrecked her truck, split her head open, and nearly frozen to death in the woods. Alone. While a pack of wolves searched for her.

Worst of all, he knew why.

He hadn't needed Emmett to tell him what Bella was doing lying in a ball in the woods, even if he was a little surprised just how perceptive his brother could be when he paid attention.

He really hadn't needed Emmett to tell him repeatedly, in very emphatic but also very crude terms, who he thought was responsible and why. He'd seen Alice's vision. He had no problem believing he was, quote, a fucking asshole. What he couldn't comprehend was how Emmett considered that quality to be a valid reason why he should 'get his ass home immediately'. That rationale must have been lost between profanities.

But when Emmett dropped the tough guy act and simply said he missed his brother, asked him to come home, he found himself arguing all the reasons why he shouldn't.

That led to him confessing far more than he intended about why it was so easy to believe the vision might be him.

The vulgar thoughts he'd been harboring about Bella mere seconds before Alice's vision had tortured him ever since.

Emmett, however, just scoffed. "Big deal. So you were fantasizing about having sex with your very willing girlfriend. Ask Jasper sometime about how willing she is. He can barely stand to be around either one of you lately, and I'm not talking about her blood. None of that is shocking, Edward. It's pretty damn normal."

Edward squeezed his eyes shut, barely able to believe he was having this conversation. "Not just sex. This was vulgar, Emmett. I imagined..." He trailed off.

"Having your way with her?" Emmett asked knowingly. "Getting a little rough?"

He didn't deny it, but he sounded a little strangled. "In front of the Quileute boy, Ephraim Black's grandson." He said it like he was confessing to a crime, handing over the most damming piece of evidence available. "I've seen his thoughts about her, his fantasies. I wanted to...mark her. Claim my territory."

Emmett snorted. "So you're an actual vampire after all. It only took a hundred years. But would you have actually done any of that, Edward?"

"No!" That was immediate, before he even thought about it. And then he did think about it. "God, no! Never."

And then he put an end to that topic when Emmett put a qualifier on it. "While she's human, you mean. Aside from the Jacob Black thing — because that one's a little screwed up even for guys like us — you might actually change your mind on some of the rest of that later. Or she might change it for you."

Edward wasn't going any farther down that road, especially not the 'guys like us' part. He wasn't sure when that had happened. Ultimately, none of it mattered. He wasn't going to be touching Bella roughly, gently, or anywhere in between. He was leaving, and that was the end of it. He wasn't taking a chance.

But back to the more pressing point, as he ran the conversation back through his mind, he knew exactly what Bella had been doing in the woods. She was waiting for him to come find her. He had known that the second he heard what had happened.

His cold heart ached like it was alive, but even that wasn't half as sharp as the longing. What wouldn't he have given to be the one to rescue her, like she wanted?

Not half as much as what he'd give for her to never be in danger in the first place.

It wasn't enough just to leave. That was becoming clear. Because if anything like this happened again, he'd be on the first plane back to her, even if he had to hijack the damn thing. And that was the most dangerous place he could be. Returning to her was something he couldn't allow, not unless Alice told him it was safe.

Please, Alice, he thought, say that it's safe, that this was all a mistake.

But his phone didn't ring with that message. And Bella would keep doing this, he realized with clarity. She wouldn't give up on him. Not unless he made her.

He knew what he had to do.

But God...could he?

He waited until he made it to Brazil, until he found somewhere — anywhere — that would take his money and just get him off the crowded streets where he could have some privacy, somewhere he could be miserable alone.

He barely even noticed the squalor of the apartment he'd just rented for...what...a month? A year? He had no idea. He'd basically stumbled into a rental office, signed some papers and thrown a wad of cash at the slumlord, probably far too much, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Ever since Emmett called with a dose of reality, for the rest of his time on the road and in the air, he'd gone over his horrific plan in his head, every fiber of his being resisting the things he knew he would have to say.

There was no end date on this threat. So long as there was any chance he might be a danger to Bella, especially the type of danger Alice had seen, he wouldn't dare go near her. And he would not damage her further by giving her false hope, by asking her to wait for a mate who might never return.

So that settled it. He was going to break Bella's heart, try to give her a clean break. He was going to do it intentionally.

He'd told her he loved her more times than he could count, with his heart in his eyes. What would it take to convince her he didn't love her, didn't want her, that she was nothing more than a distraction in his long, monotonous life after death?

He dropped his head in his hands, tortured by the same merciless memory that sprang to mind unbidden every time he thought about breaking her heart: Bella's face on the night she got home from the hospital after James had hurt her.

He'd been keeping guard outside her house that night, while he waited for her to go to bed so he could meet her in her room, just in case Victoria was foolish enough to go anywhere near her. He'd occupied his time with trying to make sense of the jumbled-up mishmash of Charlie and Renee's tortured thoughts, trying to catch glimpses of Bella, reassure himself that she was okay.

All he'd been able to see was a peek here and there through Renee's erratic thoughts, enough to frustrate him with the fact that Bella was hopping wearily through the house on a wild goose chase for Renee, when a responsible parent should have known she needed to rest.

She'd looked equal parts brokenhearted and exhausted in the glimpses he could catch. He'd kind of wanted to strangle somebody — most likely Renee, although Charlie was another viable candidate — but he'd known he'd be the one taking care of her again in a few short hours, so he'd been doing an admirable job of restraining himself.

Or he had been, at least until Alice had called him in a panic to ask what was going on with Bella, why their entire future had just blinked out and disappeared, leaving nothing but a blurry haze of insecurity and indecision.

To say that scared the hell out of him was an understatement. He'd gone hyperalert to any sound from her house. He'd barely made it until Alice could drop his car off in the driveway before he was banging on the door, trying to remember why it would be a bad idea to just tear it off the hinges and get to Bella faster.

It was putting it mildly to say that he was confused when a clearly relieved Bella opened the door and all but collapsed straight into his arms. He'd nearly crushed her in his embrace.

Thus had begun the longest week of his life, with Bella clinging to him one moment and pushing him away the next, so painfully insecure of him that she'd nearly driven him mad.

He'd seen it in her eyes all week. She hadn't trusted him not to leave her. What he hadn't been able to fathom was how she believed he actually could.

And now he had. The irony of it was bitterly cruel.

But anything...even breaking her heart and confirming her worst fears...was better than what would happen to her if he didn't.

So he waited until the next morning in Forks, until he could almost picture her in Charlie's kitchen, eating her breakfast. Then he leaned against the wall by the window, looking out into the busy city street, a bitter reminder that life outside went on, blissfully oblivious to the shattering of his heart.

He held his breath and forced his fingers to dial a number he could never let himself dial again.

Bella's house.

"Bella?"

She barely registered Charlie's presence when he called her name. She sat at the kitchen table staring out the window, clutching her jacket to her chest, the jacket she should be putting on and leaving for school. It did nothing to muffle the ache in her heart. Her breakfast was untouched.

It had been a day and a half. A day and a half of no contact. It might as well have been a lifetime. Charlie was trying. But there was nothing he or anyone else could do to make it better.

"Bella!" Charlie tried again, and he sounded more urgent for her attention, enough to make her look his direction. He was holding the phone in one hand, covering the mouthpiece with the other and gesturing with it more animatedly than she'd ever seen from her laidback father. She hadn't even heard the phone ring. "It's for you! It's Edward."

If she'd ever doubted her dad loved her unselfishly, that doubt would have fled with the knowledge that Charlie appeared overjoyed that Edward was on the phone. But there was no time to dwell on the worry she'd put him through the past two days.

She moved faster than she would have thought possible, launching herself out of the chair and toward the phone. Ordinarily, she probably would have tripped over her own two feet, especially after her recently healed ankle break, but getting to that phone — getting to Edward — was imperative. She stayed upright.

"Edward?" She could hear the desperation in her own voice as she pressed the receiver to her ear, knew she needed to tone it down in front of Charlie. But she might just as easily have been attempting to hold back the tide from the shore.

But Edward's reply was flat, toneless, completely lacking emotion. Formal.

"Isabella. I called to say goodbye."

Her heart dropped into her stomach at that tone, so unlike the gentle tones Edward normally used when he spoke to her, the ones that gave her butterflies in her stomach.

Like a hostage in a movie, she felt desperate to keep him talking. Only this wasn't a movie, and there was no one coming to rescue her if she could just keep him talking long enough. The only person she wanted to save her was Edward, and for the first time, she was pretty sure that wasn't his intention.

With great difficulty, she modified her tone, kept it calm. "Edward, where are you? What's going on? Whatever it is, just tell me. Please."

She was vaguely aware of eyes burning into her, looked up to see a deeply concerned Charlie still at her side, hanging on her every word. He raised his eyebrows in a questioning way that would have been comically absurd under any other circumstances, like the reserved police chief might next be found wanting to gossip with Alice.

"Well?" her dad mouthed silently, and it was surreal. Charlie was dangerously close to...well, to hovering. But the look on Bella's face must have made her desire for privacy clear, because he nodded slightly then, a scowl twisting his lips as he held his palms up to indicate surrender, and then vacated the room.

The line stayed quiet for agonizingly long moments, so long that Bella felt panic rising up. "Edward? Hello?" Panic gripped her, twisted her insides. "Edward?"

She could hear the ragged breath he drew, right through the phone line.

"I'm here, sweetheart. I'm right here."

His soft words, the same ones he'd used countless times to calm and reassure her, broke over her with the force of a thousand waves.

She couldn't hold back the tide anymore. She was drowning in it.

He was supposed to be an accomplished liar, a talented actor when he needed to be. He had enough decades of practice.

He also had an intensely rehearsed plan, a script to follow when he ruthlessly broke the heart of the one woman he would ever love.

But he never made it past the first sentence. At just one plea from Bella, the raw fear in her voice when she desperately called his name, he was instantly undone.

He didn't mean to say it. The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, his tone the gentle voice of a lover. He cursed himself for a fool. There was little chance she hadn't noticed, and the way her breath caught confirmed it.

That tiny sound broke him the rest of the way, completely and without remedy.

Making her understand that he wasn't coming back was necessary, to keep her from endangering herself again.

Such blasphemous cruelty as he had planned was not.

"I can't do this," he half whispered into the phone then, his voice breaking. "Forgive me, Bella, for ever considering it. I can't tell you that I don't love you — not even to make this easier for you. I'm not capable of it."

The tremor in her breathing was torture. He could vividly picture the way her lower lip would be quivering, her watery brown eyes. She sounded terrified. "Make what easier? Edward, what do you mean?"

He inhaled deeply, steeling himself. "I mean that I'm not coming back, Bella. I mean that this is goodbye."

He desperately hoped that that was a lie, that one day it would be safe for him to return to her, fall at her feet and beg her forgiveness for ever leaving. But he couldn't promise that, and so this was the only way. Bella's life was not going to be one spent in limbo, waiting for something that might never happen. He wouldn't allow it.

He knew the potential cost of his lie. If he could eventually return and she was willing to forgive him, he would count himself the luckiest creature on earth. But if she moved on in his absence and rejected him, that would be his burden to bear, not hers. Never hers, not if he could help it.

Her quiet words radiated misery, and he hated himself for being the cause of it. "You're not coming back...ever?"

He leaned his forehead against the wall, closed his eyes, dug his fingernails into the windowsill so hard that he felt the frame crack. "No. This will be the last time I contact you. I'm going to give you a clean break, Bella. It's the only gift I have left to give you. I want you to be able to move on. But I need you to promise me something first.

"I need to know you won't put yourself in danger again. You have to understand that I won't be there to save you, Bella. I can't be. I want you to promise me that you understand, that you'll be more careful. Promise me, love."

She was crying then, crying, and he'd never hurt like that in his 110 years. "Don't do this, Edward. Please. Just come home."

He was dangerously, dangerously close to doing just that. The thought of bursting through her window, dropping to his knees before her, clutching her to him and burying his face in her soft stomach as he begged her forgiveness, was nearly his undoing.

So he beat that image back, forcing himself to replace it with the horror of Alice's vision. It had brought him all the way to Brazil. Now he had to let it be enough to keep him there.

"Promise me, Bella. I need to hear you say it. I can only survive this if I know that you're safe."

The wait was agonizing, nearly as much as her muffled sobs she tried but failed to hide from him. "I promise," she finally whispered, and the finality of it all hit him.

"Thank you. In return, I promise not to make this harder than it has to be. I'm going to say goodbye now. You won't hear from me again."

"Edward, wait!"

He shouldn't, but he did. If there was a sentence that defined his entire relationship with her, that was it.

"I'm here." It was the last time. He promised himself he would not say it again.

"Please," she begged. "You don't have to do this. You're not going to hurt me."

His breath froze in his chest, shame and anger flooding him in equal measure.

Bella knew? Suddenly, Brazil wasn't far enough away.

"They told you. They had no right." His fury came through in his voice.

"Carlisle came to see me. He said that Alice..."

He'd survived telling his family. But if there was one thing he couldn't handle, it would be discussing Alice's vision with Bella. He wasn't letting her finish that sentence.

"Stop. Please. At least I know you understand why this is necessary. Please forgive me, Bella. I do love you, no matter how difficult that may be to believe now. But I'm not coming back, so I want you to move on. Be happy, Bella. That's all I want for you."

He forced himself to hang up before she could stop him again — before he could make things even worse.

TO BE CONTINUED...