Faking It Chapter 26: Here Comes the Heartache, a twilight fanfic

I don't own Twilight.

EPOV

Fuck…

I turned my face into the pillow trying to escape the misery currently ransacking every inch of my body. The tiny movement made the whole room spin and my stomach roiled unpleasantly. Hung over. Badly. My throat felt like cotton, my mouth felt like dirt, my eyes were gritty and I was fairly certain I was going to have to throw up in a second. No, make that right the fuck now.

I lurched off the bed, ignoring the spinning, ignoring the pain, and managed to make it to the wastebasket by the bed before everything came up. My throat burned with bile and the stale, revolting taste of scotch. I heaved until I was empty before I collapsed back on the bed and waited for the room to still around me.

What the hell did I do to myself? I opened my eyes enough to make out the clock beside the bed. 1:15. The room was bright with sunlight, so that meant it was the afternoon. I was still in my clothes, although I was completely unkempt. The bed was empty, but of course it was the middle of the day, Bella must have had to leave for rehearsal hours ago. How fucking embarrassing that she'd seen me this fucked up.

Had she? I had no memory of coming home…oh, wait…I had a flash of fumbling in my pocket for the front door key, but nothing else.

What about the rest of the night? I was so fucked up, I must have had a hell of a lot to drink. The beginning I was clear on. Dinner with Marc. Gotcha. We had cocktails before dinner and a bottle of wine with the food. That part was all good, I remembered all of it. We were happy, celebrating the Scorsese project. Well, I was morose because of that lousy tense phone call with Bella, but the night was celebratory, nonetheless, and Marc ordered scotch after dinner.

I remember James showing up later, joining Marc and me. We kept drinking, more scotch. The night started blurring from that point, as I had passed over into serious intoxication.

It occurred to me now, of course, that since I'd started spending time with Bella, all my hard-core partying nights had come to an end, and the heavy drinking along with them. Clearly I couldn't hold my liquor the way I once had. Too bad I realized that now and not last night. Getting this wasted was stupid, amateur move.

I kept searching back in my brain, trying to piece together what little of the night I could recall. I hated not being able to remember, it made me feel uneasy. I remember Vicki joining us. And…oh, shit… I remember Vicki sitting too close, touching me, and me being too wasted to get up and leave. And then she kissed me. Jesus Christ…did I kiss her back?

I let my head roll back on the pillow. I am such a shit. It was all so fucking unclear, but I know it happened, Vicki kissed me. But what did I do? And what happened after that? I could remember almost nothing after that, but I knew I had to try to piece it together. I couldn't remember getting out of the booth, but I did remember standing in the middle of the club, crowded by bodies, my arms around someone. Someone with red hair. Fuck. There were no more memories from inside the club, but I did remember falling into the back seat of a cab, though I couldn't remember how I'd gotten there. And then I remembered a flash of the drive home….shit…Vicki was there in the back seat with me.

I groaned and ground the heels of my hands into my eyes. Holy fucking hell, please tell me I didn't take her home and fuck her. Please, God, let me not have been that much of a shit.

I forced myself to sit up in bed, although every inch of my body protested. I looked around my bedroom furiously. There was no sign of Vicki, at least there was that. No sounds from the bathroom, no clothes discarded on the floor. I was still mostly dressed, although everything was untucked and rumpled. She didn't appear to be here, but why were we in a cab together?

I cast a guilty look at Bella's side of the bed. Was she awake last night when I got back? Oh, Christ, did she see Vicki? I needed to pull it together and call her, explain that….fuck, explain what? That I got so fucking drunk that I couldn't remember whether or not I'd fucked somebody else? I didn't think I had, but what was all that shit with Vicki that I was remembering?

As I sat staring at Bella's side of the bed, it dawned on me that something was not right about what I was looking at. The housekeeper had been in yesterday and changed the sheets. Bella's pillow was still perfect, no wrinkles, no indent from her head. With a knot in my stomach that was only partly from the alcohol, I reached out to grab the pillow and I pulled it up to my face and inhaled. Just the smell of laundry. No strawberries. She wasn't here. She didn't come home last night.

Fuck.

As bad as all of this was, that realization just made it infinitely worse. I found my cell phone still in the pocket of my pants. I scrolled through to her number and hit send. It rang several times and went to voicemail. I hung up, with no idea what I should say.

If she wasn't here, she wouldn't have seen Vicki, if Vicki had been here. So where the fuck was she?

I scrolled to her number again, this time deciding I'd send a text and see what kind of response I got. With no clue as to what she may or may not have seen, if there was or was not anything to have seen, I just decided to try a straightforward question.

"Where were you last night? Call me. –E"

While I waited I checked my missed calls. There was a whole scroll of them from Laurent, no doubt stuff about the Scorsese project, and two from Alice, but not a single one from Bella. She didn't come home, she didn't call. She didn't even let me know she wasn't coming. I was hurt and furious. But did I have the right to be angry? Was I allowed to be worried? We never spoke about us, we had no understanding in place about our relationship. She owed me nothing.

Fuck this. Yes, she does. She'd spent every night in my bed for two weeks. I was worried. And if she was okay, then I was pissed. Except I was the dick that might have fucked somebody else last night, so where the hell did I get off being a territorial dick?

I rolled out of bed and figured I'd better shower and clean up. If she hadn't called back by the time I got out, I'd try again.

Half an hour later and I felt like I might live. But still nothing from Bella.

I texted again.

"I'm worried. Please call. –E"

I called again. Voicemail. This time I spoke.

"Bella, I'm worried about you. Where are you? Call me?"

I brushed my teeth and threw on some clothes and went downstairs to make some coffee. I checked my phone again. Nothing.

I texted her again.

"Where are you? Please call. –E"

I drank my coffee staring at the wall, trying hard to ignore the knot of dread forming in my chest. I was having a hard time coming up with any scenario in which this was not bad.

Finally my phone pinged that I had a text. It was from Bella.

"Check your email. – Rosalie"

Now I was panicking. Why the fuck was Rosalie texting me on Bella's cell? I switched to my email and opened it. The last thing to show up in the inbox was from Bella's email, but the subject line said "From Rose". I opened it. There was only a link to a website, which I clicked, rapidly growing annoyed by this bullshit.

TMZ.

Fuck…

I felt the world drop out from underneath my feet.

There was a picture of me in a booth at the restaurant last night, Vicki draped across me, kissing me. My eyes were closed, my hand was splayed on her bare back, her hands were in my hair. I had only the barest impression of that moment, I was nearly unconscious from the liquor. But that's not at all how it looked.

I scrolled down. There were so many other pictures. A picture of me surrounded by people in the club, on my feet, my arms flung around Vicki's shoulders. A picture of me and Vicki out on the sidewalk, my arm around her shoulders, her arm around my waist. I didn't remember that at all. A picture of me in the back of a cab, the door still open, Vicki lowering herself in beside me.

And, oh God, no….a picture of Bella. She was inside the club. What was she doing there? And fuck.... James was standing behind her, pressed up against her, his arms around her. Her face was contorted, it looked like he was restraining her, like she was trying to get away. A flash of burning fury raced through me. That motherfucker. He touched her. He grabbed her. There was another picture, of Seth facing off with James, his huge hand wrapped around James's wrist, his face full of rage, Bella cowering under his arm.

I was shaking with rage and misery. She'd been right there, just yards from me, and I was too wasted to even know it, too wasted to help her when she needed me. Seth had to rescue her. She must have come to meet me to celebrate after all. And look what I did, what I let happen to her. Nausea roiled through me and I scrambled to the sink just in time to convulse into it again. My system was empty, though and all I could do was heave up burning bile as my body fought to purge the wretched images I'd just seen.

I sank to the floor, my back sliding roughly down the cabinet, my throat burning, my eyes watering. I was a fucking worthless piece of shit. How could I do this to her? All of it. The drinking, Vicki, James…and the fucking paparazzi had recorded every single moment. It was bad enough that it all happened, I also managed to publicly humiliate her. It was unforgivable.

As I slouched there on the floor, letting the self-loathing close over my head and drown me, my phone pinged in my hand with another text.

It was from Bella's phone again.

"She was there. She saw you. You're done. –Rose"

BPOV

I was aware of my phone going off faintly across the room. I thought it might be early afternoon, but the dark curtains were drawn over the windows and I hadn't slept, so it was hard to tell. I rolled my head a bit to look at the clock. It was 1:32. Rose quickly snatched up my phone and silenced it, which was fine with me. I was certainly in no shape to talk to anyone.

She came over to the bed and sank down to my side.

"Bella, he's texting, looking for you. I don't think he knows that you know. Do you want to talk to him?"

I shook my head violently. Everything inside me was screaming yes, wanting nothing more than to reach out for the phone just to hear his voice, but I couldn't do that. Rose was silent for a moment, but I could hear her grinding her teeth, which meant she was thinking hard about something.

"Are…" she began, then quit. She was silent for a bit, but then she decided to start again, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. There's nothing for him to say, Rose. What is he going to say? Sorry? Try to convince me to come back into his bed again? And what would that get me, except maybe another few days with him? I had a feeling this was ending. I didn't think…" I had to stop and take a deep breath, "I didn't think it would happen quite like that. I didn't think he would do that to me. Because…."

I had to quit talking because the tears were threatening to fall again.

"What?" Rose prompted softly.

"Because sometimes it really felt like it was becoming more," I whispered.

She turned her gaze to the wall, her face stony. "Yeah, it seemed a little like that to us, too. The song…"

I nodded. "I guess we were wrong."

I leaned my head back against the headboard and closed my burning, swollen eyes. We were silent for a long time, our shoulders touching.

Finally, I cleared my throat experimentally. It was still rusty and raw from the crying. Rose turned her head to look at me questioningly.

"How...how did you know what happened?" I asked her softly.

She was quiet for a minute, before she answered slowly. "Seth heard people talking in the club when he was looking for you inside. He pieced the story together. And…there are pictures. Online."

Pictures. Of course there were. Because it's not bad enough that this happened, it has to happen to me in front of the whole fucking world.

I closed my eyes and exhaled, trying to keep myself steady so I could keep going forward and not retreat back into sobs.

"I need to get out of here," I whispered.

Rose sat up abruptly, "Let's go to my house."

"No, Rose. Out of LA. I can't stay here while this thing blows up all around me. I'm leaving for Chicago tomorrow. Screw the rest of rehearsals. We'll have to be good enough." I was scheduled to fly out in a few days anyway. I would just go now. I could hide in a hotel room in Chicago just as easily as I could in LA. And maybe I wouldn't hear quite as much about it there.

"I'll go with you. You can't go alone, Bella," she said quickly.

"Rose, you have your interview with Guitar Player magazine tomorrow. You can't miss that."

Her face contorted with anxiety for a minute as she recalled that. She had a complete lack of interest in all self-promotion, but that interview was important to her. She'd been reading the magazine since she was twelve. It was her bible. And they were doing a feature on her. She wanted it bad.

"Jazz will go," she said gently.

I nodded. Jasper would do just fine. It's not like I planned to sightsee or even talk to anyone. Rose just wanted someone to order food and make sure I didn't die. Jasper would do as well as anybody. Frankly Seth could help however I needed him to, but I knew Rose would want one of us there.

"I'll call him and set it up," she said, sliding off the bed.

My phone vibrated in her hand again and she glanced down at the screen. She looked up at me and cocked an eyebrow.

"It's him again."

I closed my eyes and shook my head.

"Do you want me to make it stop?" she asked softly.

I nodded, my eyes still squeezed shut.

She headed out in the hall with my phone.

I stared hard and unblinking at the wall. There was so much to do. In a weeks' time I was performing in our first live show in support of the album, in front of an audience. It seemed impossible to contemplate at this moment, but I knew it was going to happen, one way or another. I had to get through this. I simply couldn't give in.

Repress. There was no other option, really. I had to compartmentalize this, put it away so I could not only function, but perform. There was too much at stake, too many other people that I cared about who were relying on me to step up. If I fell apart, everyone else went down with me. Couldn't happen.

Besides, it's not like I didn't know this was coming. Maybe not quite like that, but I knew it was pretty likely that when I left on this tour, I'd be alone when I did it. And that's exactly how it worked out. I kept telling Rose that I went into this with my eyes wide open, that I knew what I was getting into. So now it was time to be a big girl and deal with the consequences.

I drew a deep shaking breath and pushed myself into a sitting position, leaning back on the head of the bed. I pushed my knotted hair out of my face and rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms. I would move forward, starting now. Maybe when things quieted down a little I would allow myself to look back on all this and examine how I felt. And maybe by then I could actually bear to do it.

EPOV

I paced the living room, cell in hand, trying to psych myself up to do this. Not to call Bella, that was a lost cause and I knew it. I had to call Vicki.

I was fairly sure I hadn't slept with her, but the fact was, I couldn't remember. There seemed to be no evidence of her in my house or in my bed, but God knows, I'd fucked plenty of women in the back of a car before. And I knew we were alone in the back of that cab.

I knew it ultimately didn't matter. The Vicki thing had been very public, there were pictures all over the internet, more than just the one website I'd seen. And then there were the people in the club who saw it go down. They saw me making out with some chick. They saw Bella there. They saw Bella making a hasty exit. And everybody was talking about it. It was on every fucking gossip website and entertainment show.

As far as the world was concerned, I did it. And Bella seemed to feel that way, too. I could hardly blame her. Every time I thought about it I felt sick. I would need to talk to her at some point, I knew that, at least to apologize for the public nature of the whole thing. She didn't take my calls and she'd completely vanished from my life, so I was not naïve enough to hope that I could somehow fix this and get her back. No, it was done, she was gone. But I couldn't just leave it. I had to try to say I was sorry.

But first I needed to know exactly how bad it had been, and only Vicki could tell me that.

I still had her number in my cell, although I couldn't remember the last time I'd used it, if I ever had. So before I could freak myself out too much, I just hit send.

I must have been in her cell, too, because she picked up right away, crooning into the phone.

"Hi, Edward. This is a first, a phone call the day after."

"Fuck, Vicki," I snapped, with no preamble, "Tell me what the fuck happened last night?"

"What do you mean 'what happened'?" What do you think happened?" she was immediately on the defensive, all traces of seduction gone from her voice.

"I can't fucking remember any of it, that's why I'm asking. So are you going to tell me or not?"

"Why are you so freaked out, Edward? It's not like it never happened before. And if I recall, you seemed to like it last time…."

"Vicki, just fucking tell me!" I roared into the phone.

There was silence on the other end for a long beat.

"Is this about her?" she finally asked, her voice sharp.

"Who?"

"You kept saying her name. Bella."

"Fuck…" I wasn't talking to Vicki, I just muttered it to myself as I dragged a hand over my eyes, but Vicki heard it and chuckled softly into the phone.

"No fucking way. Edward Cullen is in love."

I sighed and dropped my head back, "Shut it, Vicki. And just leave her out of it."

She said nothing and I was on the edge of ending the call in defeat when she finally spoke again, softly.

"No, nothing happened."

"What?"

"Nothing," she said, "I mean, I kissed you, but you pushed me off…well, as best you could in your condition. I tried to convince you, but you were adamant. You wanted to get out of there. Eventually you pushed past me and got up out of the booth."

"And then what? What about the rest of the pictures? What happened?"

Vicki said nothing for a long time.

"Please just tell me!"

"Okay, fine, I felt bad for you. Satisfied? You were trying to get out of there and you could hardly even stand up. And you didn't have your bodyguard…you were fucking helpless. So, yes, even though you'd just turned me down flat, calling for some other girl the whole time, I took pity on your sorry, pathetic ass and I helped you out. I got you out of the club and into a cab and I told the guy how to find your place. I dumped you out at your front door and went home. End of story."

I exhaled heavily in relief. Thank God. It was still bad, awful, in fact, but at least I hadn't done that.

"Thank you, Vicki. I appreciate it. I'm sorry I was such a…"

"Shit?" she provided helpfully.

I chuckled a little, in spite of myself, "Yeah, I was a shit. I'm just really…."

"Sounds like you're fucked, Edward."

"Yeah," I replied, squeezing my eyes shut, "I think I am."

I lay on the couch, contemplating exactly how I was going to find Bella to apologize. She wasn't at her house, for sure. And she wasn't at Rose's or Jasper's, because of this media shit storm I'd created. I figured she was holed up at a hotel somewhere, but which one? Her cell phone was likely an exercise in futility. I'm sure Rose had confiscated it and turned it off at this point.

My cell buzzed in my hand and I scrambled to answer it, even though the rational part of my brain knew it wasn't her. I glanced at the screen. Of course not. It was Laurent. Well, time to face the music. I hit accept.

"Laurent?"

"Edward! Where the hell have you been? What the fuck happened?"

I'd never heard Laurent say "fuck" before. This must be bad.

I exhaled heavily. "Laurent, it's not what it looked like, although I know that hardly matters at this point."

"This is bad, Edward."

"I know. I know it is. I want to try to fix it. I have to talk to Bella, try to apologize. Laurent, can you find out where she is?"

He sighed and was silent for a moment.

"Honestly, Edward? I'm not sure her people will even take my call right now. This is that kind of bad."

"Can you try? Just try," I realized I was beginning to beg, but I didn't care.

"I have one person I can call. Aro is a personal friend. He might talk to me. But he might not. His job now is to circle the wagons, same as me."

"Okay, just let me know what he says," I said, rapidly losing steam.

"Edward, while we're talking about this, we should discuss what's to be done. We've been working very hard at rehabbing your image and we were succeeding. To say this is a set back is a gross understatement."

"I know, Laurent. I swear, I'll do whatever you need me to do to make this better. But first I have to talk to Bella."

He went on like I hadn't spoken, "The public nature of what happened definitely throws this round to her, but if we work fast, dig deep, we might be able to salvage something."

"What are you talking about?"

"Edward, this is about to turn into a PR war. The media will be all over the both of you, looking to see who did what, who's really at fault. Like I said, initially this is all on you, but if we can dig up something on her, tarnish the sweetheart image a little, it would help swing things back in your favor a bit."

I wanted to climb through the phone and wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze until he shut up or stopped breathing or both.

"Leave. Her. Alone."

"What? Edward, don't concern yourself with this part. I'll come up with a plan and we'll talk about how to proceed," Laurent was still brisk and business-like, apparently unaware of how close I was to killing him.

"I said leave her alone! This isn't her fault. None of it. I'll take the heat and I'll do what I can to make it better. But Laurent, let me make one thing fucking crystal clear. You back off Bella. You go after her in any way and we're done."

Laurent was silent for a long minute, digesting my outburst. I was still shaking with rage.

"Then you need to lay low," he said, deciding to ignore the uglier parts of my little speech and focus on my pledge to fix it. "And by laying low, I mean out of sight. We can't afford for them to catch a picture of you so much as talking to a woman, even if she's your mother. You go into hiding until this quiets down."

"That will be no problem. Now will you just call Aro and see if he'll tell you where she is? I talk to Bella and I vanish. I promise."

Five minutes later, as I was still hunched on the couch gripping my cell, it pinged with a text.

"Aro won't tell me where she is- L."

Fuck. Who else might know where she is? Someone who would still speak to me?

Seth. He wouldn't speak to me, but maybe he would speak to Sam. I scrolled to Sam's number and hit send.

"Yes?" This is what I love about Sam, a man of few words.

"I need to find Bella. Can you ask Seth?"

Sam was silent for a long time and I wondered if I'd just grossly overstepped my bounds. Then I decided I didn't care.

"He might not tell me. He's very protective of her."

"Don't tell him it's for me. Will you just ask him, Sam? I have to find her."

"I'll ask."

"Thanks."

I sank back on the couch to wait. Fifteen minutes later Sam's text came through.

"Hollywood Roosevelt, Room 1202."

I shot up off the couch and snatched my keys off the table by the front door as I raced to my car.

BPOV

After six hours of Vicodin-enhanced sleep, I rose and showered. I felt numb, no longer connected to my own body, but I didn't dwell on how I felt. I only focused on keeping myself moving.

Rose insisted on doing my hair and makeup. I protested loudly, but she pointed out that the very last thing I needed was to show up on TMZ pale and disheveled and running away to the airport and I had to admit she had a point. So I let her blow my hair out and secure it in a low ponytail and make up my face to hide the puffy eyes and the blotchiness. I certainly looked a whole lot better than I felt. I looked fine.

Jazz arrived during the late morning. He was never one for talking about feelings and I could see from his face that he was praying I wasn't going to subject him to weeping and emoting. He had no worries. There would be no more of that. I was on emotional lock down.

He stepped out in the hall to talk with Rose for a little bit and then they came back in to discuss plans. Our flight was this afternoon. Rose brought me a couple of changes of clothes from her house and she said she'd go buy me more when she got to Chicago. All my clothes were at Edward's and I couldn't deal with the logistics of getting them back yet. I wanted to just leave everything and start over. Rose and Emmett would join us in Chicago in two days.

My clothes made me think of Alice, who'd bought them all for me. Alice. I didn't know what to do about that. I knew I'd have to figure it out. She was my friend and she was with Jasper, part of our lives now. But I couldn't talk to her just yet, it was all too close.

Rose was putting together a bag for me with the things she'd brought over when Jazz stuck his head back in the room.

"Hey, Aro's here to talk to Bells. Bell? You up for it?"

I closed my eyes and exhaled heavily. No. I wasn't. But real life was going to march on, whether or not I was ready. I nodded slightly and Jazz withdrew from the door, letting Aro in.

He looked impeccable as always, his navy pinstriped suit contrasting flamboyantly with his ice green shirt and lime tie. He flashed me his preternaturally dazzling white smile and gave me a look that was meant to be sympathetic, but Aro wasn't much of an actor.

"Bella, darling. How are you?" He crossed the suite quickly and came to stand at the foot of the bed where I sat, picking my hands up off my lap and clutching them briefly in his. He knew all the particulars, at some point Rose had called him and filled him in. I was glad I hadn't had to do it.

"I'm okay, Aro. What's up?" Since I wasn't about to bare my soul to Aro, I figured I'd better cut to the chase and get to why he was really here. Because I was sure he didn't come to comfort me.

"Well, our little project has taken a rather unexpected turn, so it's time we discuss our next steps. Although I suppose," he mused, mostly to himself, "that it took an unexpected turn when you actually got involved with Mr. Cullen."

In spite of my Vicodin hangover and the haze of my emotional lockdown, I was able to raise my eyes to Aro's and shoot him my best withering stare. He seemed to sense he'd pissed me off and backed down a fraction, smiling again.

"Bella, sweetness, when it comes time to end an arrangement like this, finishing it needs to be handled as delicately as starting it."

I stared at him for a second, wondering where the hell this was headed. Rose was apparently wondering, too, because I saw her out of the corner of my eye coming to lean on the bathroom door frame.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, my voice low and still a little raspy.

"Certainly the break was sudden and unplanned, so we'll have to act fast, to position ourselves properly."

"Position ourselves for what?"

"There's a public relations war brewing, my dear. And we need to do what it takes to win it. Now, Edward's very public display certainly throws the ball in your court at the outset, but things can turn on a dime and we can't be too cautious."

"What the fuck are you talking about? We're over. What else is there to say about it?" The words nearly made me choke, but I spit them out anyway through gritted teeth.

"The media will find plenty to say…about both of you. We need to make sure it's all the right things about you. This could wind up being highly advantageous for you if it's handled properly. Remember Tom and Nicole? That break up did wonders for her career."

I couldn't believe I was hearing this bullshit. I was in the middle of a full-on emotional collapse and Aro was talking about using it to further my fucking career. I sat like stone on the edge of the bed, fixated on the pattern in the carpet at my feet, trying to formulate some sort of response to him. Aro took this as an invitation to proceed, so he did.

"Now, there should definitely be a mourning period, that's easily handled with you being out on tour. But when you get back, we'll have to be very careful choosing your next partner. These things…"

His words finally began to sink in and I found my voice, raising my head to stare at him in shock.

"You want me to do this again?"

"Bella," he said patiently, "if you make the wrong choice of partners on the rebound, the results can be disastrous, just ask Britney. No, it's best to keep this strictly business. I'll start compiling a list and by the time you get back from the tour we'll have a choice made and the details all worked out and then we can…."

"Stop."

"Stop what, dear?"

"Stop this. All of it. I'm fucking done." My voice didn't sound familiar to me, it was so strong compared to how I felt. Rose was crossing the room to stand near me at the corner of the bed.

"I'm done, Aro, with all of this shit. No more publicity stunts and fake relationships. Never again. And Edward.." I almost lost it, saying his name, I choked momentarily. But I swallowed hard and pushed on, "the Edward thing is done, too. No fucking publicity war. I don't give a shit what anyone says about me or him or it. I'm not answering questions about him, I'm not talking about it. Ever. Are we clear?"

Rose's hand found my shoulder and she squeezed lightly. Aro just blinked down at me with no expression.

"Well, that will certainly make handling this more difficult," he finally said.

"I don't care. There's nothing to handle. It's over," my voice wavered at the last bit and Rose took that as her cue to jump in.

"Aro, she's got a plane to catch. We'll talk about it more when we get back," she said, snagging his elbow and propelling him towards the door.

"Alright, Rose. We'll talk later. But she better understand something. Laurent may be my friend, but he'll be looking for any way possible to keep this thing from tarnishing Edward's reputation any further, even if that means making Bella look bad. Proceed with caution."

Aro threw one last look at me over his shoulder before he left the room. My shoulders slumped and I dropped my face into my hands, my momentary show of strength had fled me completely.

Rose came back to the bed and ran her hand over my hair.

"Fuck him, Bella. And you did the right thing, telling him to shove it. I just wish we'd done that the first time."

I thought about that for a minute. Did I wish that, too? That I'd never done it? That my only encounter with Edward had been that one brief conversation at Geisha? I thought back over everything, fish tacos on the beach in the dark, Edward smiling at me across the dinner table in my house, Edward kissing me at the foot of the stairs on the night of the Oscars, singing with Edward while he played my song for me... No, as much pain as all if it brought me in this moment, I knew there was no way I would ever wish that none of it had happened.

Rose had her interview soon and needed to go, but I could tell she was anxious about leaving me. She gripped my shoulders hard and made me meet her gaze. I sniffed and rubbed my eyes with my fingers briefly and looked up at her, willing my mask of granite back into place.

"Say the word, Bella, and I'm coming with you," she said.

"Don't be silly, Rose. I have Jazz and Seth. I'll be okay. You'll be there before you know it. I'll be fine. I have to be."

"I'm so sorry, Bella," she said suddenly, her voice softening as she pulled me into her arms, "I wish I had…I wish…"

"Rose, there's nothing to feel sorry about," I said, as calmly as I could. Her tenderness was weakening my stony reserve. I needed to stay firm. "You warned me. You did your best. And you still came to pick up the pieces when it turned out exactly like you said it would."

"Of course, Bells. Just because I warned you doesn't mean I won't be here for you anyway."

"Thank you," I whispered into her shoulder.

"Love you."

She squeezed me hard and let me go just before the waterworks started again. I took a deep breath to get myself back under control. Granite.

Rose departed and Seth went downstairs to have the SUV brought around. Jasper prowled the room nervously while I checked the bag Rose had packed for me. Jasper wandered out into the hallway, hands in his pockets. He looked back into the room and held his hand out to me.

"Bella? It's time to go, babe. Are you ready?"

I stopped and closed my eyes, taking a few deep breaths, steeling myself for the outside world, preparing myself in case there were paparazzi downstairs. I slipped my sunglasses on, my shield to keep myself from the prying eyes of the world, then I walked forward and took Jazz's hand. He wrapped his arms around me and pressed his lips to my forehead. I allowed myself just a second to lean into him and be comforted, but only a second. More than that and I'd fall apart again and I was done with that. I straightened up and stepped back. Jasper smiled slightly at me before he slid his arm protectively around my waist and led me towards the elevator.

EPOV

Thankfully the paparazzi hadn't found out yet that Bella was staying at the Roosevelt. If they had they'd be swarming the place but it was relatively quiet, unlike the fucking zoo I faced outside the gate at my place. I'd never seen it so bad.

I sat in my car for a minute, just shy of the covered overhang in front of the entrance, just to see who was coming and going. As I watched I saw Seth exit the front door and speak with the valet for a minute. My heart soared at the site of that overgrown kid. If he was down here then she was up there.

A minute later their large black SUV was brought around and Seth hopped in to organize something. I decided to move before he could see me. I jumped out of my car, ignoring the valet and leaving it parked by the curb. I sprinted through the lobby and towards the elevators, keeping my head down and my sunglasses on, hoping I could make it without attracting too much attention.

So far so good. I got in and punched 12.

I had no idea at all what I would say. I had no expectations, no plan. I just needed to see her one more time, to tell her I was sorry. I knew it wouldn't change anything, but I had to say it before she was gone for good.

The elevator stopped on twelve. I took a second to figure out which way the rooms went and turned left. I reached the next corner and had just turned into the hall when I saw Jasper, standing in the hall, hands in his pocket, looking through the open door back into her room. He pulled one hand from his pocket and reached a hand towards the open door, beckoning to her.

"Bella? It's time to go, babe. Are you ready?"

My feet wouldn't move. I wanted to back away before I saw it, but I couldn't. Bella, her dark hair pulled back, her sunglasses on, her face as flawless and beautiful as always, stepped forward, taking his hand. His arms wrapped around her, his lips met her forehead, her body sighed into his.

I finally made my feet move, silently retreating the way I'd come, back to the elevators. The one I came up in hadn't left yet, so I staggered in and hit G. I fell back against the side and closed my eyes.

My heart was thudding out of my chest. I knew they weren't back together already, it wasn't possible. But seeing her with him like that…how tenderly he touched her, how comforted she seemed by his touch…it hit me then. They fit. It was so clear. He was perfect for her. And he would never do to her what I just did. He'd be there for her, like he had been her whole life.

I needed to stop being a selfish bastard and do the right thing here. The last thing she needed now was me, shoving my way into her life, pleading for forgiveness. Maybe the best thing I could do now would be to just stay out of her way and let her get back to the life she would have been leading if she hadn't entered into this fucked up arrangement with me in the first place. All I brought to her life was chaos and media and misery and I had nothing to offer her in return. All this time I'd been trying to get him out of my way, but maybe it was me that needed to get out of his. Well, I could do something about that, at least. I could take myself as far away as possible,

The elevator hit the lobby and I bolted out the way I'd come, racing back to my car, still sitting by the curb. Once I was safely locked inside, I pulled out my phone and scrolled through to Marc's number.

"Marc? It's Edward. I know I've been stalling, but I'm ready to go to Italy now. Book me on the next flight, text me the details."

I'm gone, too.