Chapter Fourteen

Everything changes after Bella gets back to Chicago from D.C.

I don't what it is, or if I've done something wrong, but Bella draws deep into herself. It isn't just me that she pulls away from. Rose notices it, and even Angela mentions that Bella has been distant. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that something happened when she was in D.C. and, to be perfectly honest, I don't think I'm brave enough to ask her about it.

She'll tell me the truth, which must be something awful; or she'll lie to me. I can't decide which would be worse.

We barely see each other, and then she's telling me that she has to go to D.C. again. Whatever is going on at home must be big, because she looks like she's barely sleeping, and this constant flying is probably exhausting her.

Because of the short notice of both her trips, I haven't been able to get home to see my mom. She isn't bothered by it though, and rather schedules two Skype dates for us. The first one we share with Riley, who my mom tells me is responding well to the clinical trial. It makes him feel terrible, but he's such a strong boy. He's our little fighter. I listen to him go on and on about his favourite Power Ranger, and how much he loves going to the park with his Nana and hates that they haven't been able to do it in such a long time.

For our second Skype date, it's just my mom and me. She spends most of it, if not all, telling me things. About life and about love. I don't know what it is, but it's as if she's trying to give me all the advice she possibly can before, you know. She's piling it all in, making sure that I know all I need to about being a good friend, brother, boyfriend, and eventual husband and father. It all scares me a little, but I try not to think about the reasons why too much.

She spends about an hour talking to me about Bella. My mom loves my girlfriend, and I think that she can tell that I believe that this girl is the one for me. For forever. Which is why she probably thinks it's important that we talk about this now. She reminds me that it won't be easy and that I have to be patient. She definitely reiterates the whole patience thing.

It's as if she knows exactly what I need to hear, given the way Bella's been acting lately.

After I get off my call with my mom, I use my phone to call Bella. She answers on the fifth ring, and she sounds tired, even dejected.

"Hey."

I breathe out. "Hi, you," I say, trying to be enthusiastic enough for the both of us. "How are you?"

"Edward?"

"Yeah?"

There's a long pause. "Look, now really isn't a good time to talk," she tells me. "My dad's - there's a - look, can I call you back later?"

I want to scream no. I want to force her to talk to me, but I can't say the words. Somehow, I just know that demanding answers of her will get me nowhere. I know she knows that I know she's not okay, but she's not acknowledging it. "Okay," I say.

"Thank you," she practically whispers. "And Edward?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

I let out a relieved breath. "I love you too."

She hangs up first.

She also doesn't actually get to calling me back.

I call her a few times, but it goes straight to voicemail. I reach a worry level of epic proportions, and I don't even know what to do with myself. I mean, if Rose can't get through to her as well, then there's something wrong. Something terrible.

I mean, I'm worried, of course, but I also kind of miss my girlfriend. I miss the way things were before all this crypticness. I get it. She's the First Daughter, and I'm sure there are all sorts of things that she knows and can't tell me, but this shutout seems personal. It feels it.

It's about me.

I try to push it to the back of my mind and focus on my assignments. I have a hectic week coming up, and I need to get it done before I suspect I'll be having it out with my girlfriend. We're going to talk when she gets back. Hell, maybe we'll fight. We haven't really done that yet. We've bickered, sure, but we've never fought.

Well, there's a first time for everything, isn't there?

I have a shift at the library on Sunday afternoon, and I spend it seeing to Sophomores' queries, studying for Biochemistry and texting my girlfriend who won't respond. Mrs Cope bustles about around me but I opt to stay in one place. I'm exhausted, both physically and mentally.

"Edward?"

I turn to look at Mrs Cope. "Hmm?"

"Do you mind returning these to the shelves?" she asks, pointing to a pile of books on the table. "A group of boys left them behind - how inconsiderate?"

I shrug as I struggle to my feet. I absently grab for my phone and drop it into my pocket. I have half a mind to chuck it across the library, but I probably won't be able to afford a new one and I'm pretty sure that my insurance wouldn't accept my excuse.

I pick up the books, hug them to my chest and make my way to the specified shelves. I take my time shelving the books, trying to waste as much time as possible. Also, if I keep myself sufficiently occupied, I won't think about the fact that my girlfriend is probably avoiding me for whatever reason.

My resolve lasts all of one minute, because then I'm taking out my phone again and dialling her number. Still nothing. What is this? Seriously?

I dial her number again and, surprisingly, I get her voicemail. Before I know what I'm doing, I'm growling, my fingers pressing down hard on my phone's screen.

"The bitch didn't call you back, huh?"

I spin towards the sound of Bella's voice, and my mouth drops open in surprise. "Bella?" I mumble.

She looks sheepish, even a little ashamed. "Hello, you."

A smile automatically takes hostage of my face. I'm just so relieved to see her. "Hey you," I say, and draw her into a tight hug. My body is literally vibrating and, really, I never want to let her go. If I do, we're going to have to talk and I don't think I'm ready for it. I don't want to talk, but I still do.

But I really don't.

So I kiss her instead. It's a sloppy, rushed kiss, that speaks of so much more. That niggling feeling is there. This kiss is just prolonging the inevitable, which is why I push her up against the bookshelf and kiss her senseless. We need this. I need this.

Bella moans into my mouth, giving me access. I lift her up and she wraps her legs around me.

She's the one who pulls back first. "Edward, we really can't do this here," she says, sounding breathless. "There are people everywhere."

"Then let's go somewhere else," I suggest, though it's more of a demand.

She nods immediately, and then we're going. I barely have time to excuse myself to Mrs Cope before Bella and I are rushing out of the library, hand in hand. We go to the OB, happily bypassing Harry and Billy. Bella sounds rebellious, and I'm definitely not complaining right now. This is avoidance at its finest.

I drive. Fucking fast.

I'm sure that if Harry weren't already bald; he would have pulled out his own hair.

We go to my room, mainly because it's more likely that the boys will be out than Angela is. They tend to spend Sunday afternoons playing touch football at the field. So Bella and I barely see anyone as we make our way upstairs.

As soon as the door closes, I've got her pinned against it, exactly where I want her. It's quick and it's dirty, and we're both panting by the end of it.

"We should probably talk," Bella says once she's caught her breath.

I just nod, before I disentangle myself from her. It's suddenly cold without her warmth but I still step back. I turn away from her and straighten myself out. We should probably talk, even though there's a part of me that desperately doesn't want to.

I move to sit on the end of my bed and wait.

Bella begins to pace in front of me.

"Bella?" I ask.

She stops suddenly and looks at me. "I'm sorry," she says. "I should have called, and I definitely shouldn't have been so rude to you on the phone."

"What's going on?"

She sighs heavily, and then comes to sit beside me. She rests her head on my shoulder and takes a deep breath. "Something is happening, Edward," she whispers. "There have been these - "

"What?"

She swallows audibly. "I wish - I just - I want it all to stop."

I don't know what she's trying to tell me. I'm pretty smart, so I should be able to figure it out, but I can't. This something is really getting to her, but I can't help if she doesn't talk to me about it. "What can I do?" I ask.

"I want nothing more than to stay here, just hidden from the entire world, just with you," she says breathily. "Do we have to go outside?"

"To eat, probably."

She chuckles softly. "I'm sorry," she says again. "I'm just - there are things that I have to deal with; that I have to come to terms with."

I still don't know what she's trying to tell me.

Bella kisses my cheek. "Edward, I love you."

"I love you too," I say automatically.

Her lips move from my cheek to the corner of my mouth, until she finds my lips again. I can feel her hesitancy; her worry. For a moment, I want to pull back and talk about this some more, but then she nibbles at my bottom lip, and I'm a goner.

Maybe she means to distract me; maybe she doesn't.

Regardless, I still let her.

The week goes by quickly and slowly at the same time. Bella is distant, but still so clingy. It's strange. It's worrying. And I'm not the only one who's noticed. I get a text from Rose late on Thursday night asking me about it but I probably know as much as she does.

All I know is that, when the week is up, Bella's off to D.C. again.

So, this time, I too go home. I just have this feeling. I'm needed at home. I'm needed. I just know it.

I arrive in Seattle to learn that my mom is in the hospital, though she desperately doesn't want to be. She wants to be at home and Carlisle tells me that he's organising for it to happen. She should be given the dignity of being able to die in her own home. He says it carefully, but his voice catches and his eyes brim with tears. I know I'll fucking cry if I see him crying, so I look away.

Jesus Christ, Esme Masen is going to fucking ruin us all.

My mom picks a bed out of a catalogue, claiming that it looks like the kind of bed she wouldn't mind dying in. She says it with a slight laugh, to which I don't respond. Peter and I go to pick it up on Saturday afternoon, and he uses the opportunity to reiterate to me that I can relax now. As we're walking back to his truck, he tells me that I can focus on school, and that I don't need to worry about the bills anymore.

"Why?" I ask, even though I sort of know why.

He just gives me a pointed look, stopping walking now that I have.

There's going to be a payout. Of course there is. My mom's life insurance.

I blink. How dare he even bring it up? I'm not exactly in a good head space anyway, so I fucking lose it. "She isn't dead yet, Peter!" I snap. "I'm sorry if that's fucking up all your plans!"

He glares at me. "Don't you dare!" he hisses. "Don't you dare act like I don't know what's going on here? Because I fucking know, Edward!" He's screaming at me, and it's almost as if he's been waiting to be able to say all he wants to. "I see it every day, you know? The struggle; her fucking pain, and forgive me if I want it to be over for her. You're acting like her dying is a insult to you, like the world is so against you, but you know nothing!

"I've been here. I've seen it all! Feeding her, cleaning her, and watching her waste away as that fucking disease slowly kills her! Where have you been, huh? Where the fuck have you been? I've been here, every fucking day, with her, and with Riley; just holding this fucking family together. So don't you come here acting all high and mighty, as if I don't care. Don't you see? I care too fucking much." He looks livid, and I just stare back at him.

There's nothing to say. What can I say? I mean, I can throw it all back in his face, but I won't. I shouldn't. So, I just grab the keys from him, and head towards the truck. If he wants to pile his pain on me, then he should be able to. I'll bear the weight of his pain if I have to.

If he's as heartbroken as I am, then I'll be this person for him.

He has Charlotte and Riley to worry about. He's got to hold it together for them, so he can afford to break down in front of me.

I unlock the truck, climb into the driver's seat and wait. It takes him a moment to join me, and then I pull out in silence. The drive home is tense, and I can see Peter nervously nibbling on his bottom lip as our conversation probably replays in his mind. I don't say anything. I've accepted it, but I won't say that it's okay. Because the words hurt. As if I don't beat myself up enough about not being here.

When we get home and I pull into the driveway; neither of us moves for a solid minute. It's when I remove the keys from the ignition that he finally speaks, but I suddenly don't want to hear any of it.

"Edward - "

"Forget it, Peter," I say, cutting him off. "Just help me get this fucking bed in the house so our mom can die comfortably."

We don't exchange any more words as we do just that. We set up the bed in the drawing room, shifting unnecessary furniture out of the way, or removing items entirely. I want my mom to have a view of the backyard, but Peter thinks it's best if we give her a side view instead - something about the glaring sun. Whatever. I don't argue.

Once it's all set up, I retreat to my bedroom and stay there. I call Bella, but she doesn't answer. She sends a text a few minutes later, letting me know that she was in a meeting - probably to do with the campaign - and would call me later.

Later.

Fuck her later. Seriously. It doesn't even fucking arrive. All I get is a text message that start with 'Sorry,' so I don't even bother to read it. It's just an excuse of some sort, and I don't have the patience to deal with it today.

I don't think that she's necessarily ignoring me, because it's not just me. It's just that whatever's bothering her is taking over everything, and I don't know what to do to help her or what to say to figure it out. I just don't understand, and she's really not helping.

Eventually, Tori comes to call me for dinner. I can't tell if she's also irritated with me or not, and I'm not going to ask. If my brother thinks that I'm being saved from watching our mom die; does that mean that my sister thinks it as well? Does she resent me for it?

Would I, if I were her?

Dinner is quiet, even a little tense, but we get through it. Somehow. I've never actually thought of Seattle, and said 'I want to go home.' Seattle's always been home, with Chicago just being a place that I go. And now it feels as if it's the other way around.

Is that what Peter's so mad about? The fact that I actually get to leave, and he doesn't? I get to escape, and he has to be here? Does he resent me for doing exactly what he told me to do? That would be terribly unfair. But, I suppose, nobody's really thinking rationally right now.

After dinner, Charlotte and I do the dishes, and then I go to the hospital. Alone.

Carlisle is with my mom when I arrive. They're holding hands, and he's whispering something to her; but both of those things stop when he spots me. He stands up immediately, and takes a step towards me.

"Everything okay?" he asks.

I don't answer his question. "We set up the bed," I tell them both, as I walk further into the room. "You'll be able to come home tomorrow."

My mom lets out a relieved breath that sounds more painful than anything. She glances at Carlisle and they exchange a significant look. I don't know what it is, but maybe they can both tell that I need something. I mean, I must have come here for a reason, right? Even though I don't know what that is then.

Carlisle bids my mom goodnight, bending to kiss her forehead, and then gestures for me to walk him out. His voice is low, even gentle, as he speaks. "I know this is the last thing that you want to hear, Edward, but I suspect that we don't have long to go now," he says slowly, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

I blink back my tears.

"She's held on for so long. She's fought so hard, and now she's tired, Edward. She's tired, and she deserves a good rest."

I wipe at my eyes.

"So I think it's time that you say your peace," he says solemnly. "Say the words that we both know she needs to hear. Please."

Suddenly, I realise that this is why I came here. To say the words that she needs to hear.

All I do is nod.

It seems to be enough for Carlisle, because he gently squeezes my upper arm, bids me goodnight, and then walks away. I watch him go until he's disappeared, and then I head back into my mom's room. Her eyes are closed, but I can tell that she's awake. Her breathing is too ragged for sleep.

I can hear her breathing. How fucked up is that?

I move to sit down in the chair Carlisle just vacated, and my movements make her open her eyes; her perfect, perfect eyes.

"Hello, sweetheart," she says.

I reach for her closest hand. "Hi, Mom."

She blinks, a small frown on her face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

I smile slightly, squeezing her hand.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

I shrug. "Just, things," I tell her. "I can handle it though." I cringe as I say the words, knowing that Bella would probably roll her eyes at them.

My mom looks like she wants to call 'bullshit,' but she doesn't. "So, my bed, huh?"

I grin at her. "It's quite the bed, Mom. It's got all these fancy gadgets and everything - you're going to love it."

Okay. This is probably the worst conversation I have ever had with my mother. It's horrible, and I hate it. I mean, we're literally discussing the bed she's probably going to die in as if this is what normal people do. Only, it's not.

"How is everyone at home?" she asks after a while.

I blink. "Charlotte and Tori made spaghetti," I tell her. I can't remember the last time she had a proper meal and was able to keep it down. Or even enjoy it.

She gives me a knowing look, realising that I'm definitely avoiding something. What that is, I still don't know; which is why she just starts to speak. Her voice is quiet and it comes out slowly, as she forces it out. She tells me things.

The kind of things that come before someone's end-of-life.

I listen as intently as I can, because there is nothing more important than my mother right now. Nothing.

"I am so proud of this person you've become," she says, her eyes on me. "I am so proud. Because you're strong, and good and pure, and that heart of yours will always put people first." She takes in a painful breath. "I want you to know that you are loved, Edward."

It's never been a doubt in my mind.

"I love you, and I'm sorry that I'm going to be another loss to you. Don't be angry, okay? Please. This is life, and sometimes people just die." She blinks slowly."Sometimes they just die."

It's a hard lesson to learn, given that my father didn't just die.

"Come here," she says after a moment, gently patting the bed beside her. "Come lie with me for a while."

I hesitate for only a moment, before I stand up. It takes us a moment to figure out where all the tubes are going to go, as I settle in beside her. I'm her son, but I'm the one who wraps my arms around her, and we both shift until we're comfortable. For a while, neither of us says anything.

Of course though, she's the one to break the silence, because I have no fucking clue what to say. "I hope you know I don't want to go, but it isn't my choice at this point." Her voice cracks, and I squeeze her tighter, giving her the strength to carry on speaking. "I'm sick, and I'm not going to get better. It's a truth we've had to face for a while now, and I need to know that you're prepared for it."

"Mom, no." I take a breath, forcing my tears away.

"Edward, please."

I shake my head. "What am I supposed to do without you?"

"I'm pretty sure that I've taught you all that I can, and your life experiences have taught you everything else."

I press my lips together, fighting off my spiralling emotions. Fuck. I don't want to do this right now.

"I'm going to miss you," she says, touching my nose with the tip of her forefinger.

"Me too," I whisper, because my voice isn't really working.

"Remember that I will always love you, wherever I am, and wherever you are, Edward. Always."

"I love you too, Mommy." I sound so much like a child that it is heartbreaking. And pathetic. I'm a grown man, for fuck's sake.

She allows us to exist in silence for only a few seconds before she says the words that take us down the road from which we will never be able to return. "We - we have to talk about this, sweetheart."

I don't want to. This is the last think I want to do. "I know." I swallow audibly. "I know, Mom."

"I'm dying."

I don't say anything. What am I supposed to say to that anyway?

"Do you understand that I'm dying?" she tries again. "It's really only a matter of time now. Sometimes I can't even breathe, Edward. Sometimes I don't want to wake up. And then you all come... And I…" her voice trails off, the emotion getting the better of her. She swallows, painfully. "You are going to be fine, right?" She doesn't sound as sure anymore, and I realise that this assurance is something that she needs from me. But am I willing to give it? Do I have it in me to lie to her? "I mean, not just tomorrow, or the day after I'm gone? But two years from now, five years, ten years from now?"

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

Maybe she hears it, maybe she feels it; because she doesn't comment on my lack of response.

"You make sure to take care of yourself, okay?" she says after a while. "All I want is a hundred years more, just to be your mom; just to watch you grow to be the great man you are becoming. I want to see you graduate; realise your dreams of being a doctor. I just - I want so much more time with you all." She coughs, and I can hear the tears in her voice.

I don't dare look though. I can't.

"I know it's selfish what I'm asking," she says; "but all I want, and all I need is to know you're going to be okay once I'm gone. I can't leave without knowing that."

No no no no!

"Please."

I shake my head. "Don't leave," I whisper. "Stay."

"I can't," she says, barely speaking now.

And that's it, isn't it? This was never a choice that she made. She said it herself: given the choice, she would stay.

"Edward?" She swallows hard, her breathing jagged. She's fully crying now, and I know what she's asking. She's tired, so, so tired, and she's asking me if it is okay to go. She needs my permission.

I can't keep my tears at bay anymore.

I close my eyes, willing myself to say the words I never dreamed I would ever say. I can't even breathe as I force them out. "We're going to be fine," I just about manage. "You're our mom. Of course we'll be fine."

She falls silent, and I practically feel the tension leave her body.

This is my peace. This is the last thing I can give her: her own peace. So I just hold her tighter, absently rocking us both as I lull her to sleep with the words that she so desperately wants to hear.

"You can go, Mom," I whisper, crying fully. I'm sobbing. "Mommy, you can go. It's fine. We're going to be fine, okay? You can let go now. I know it's hard. I know you don't want to. But you can. It's enough now. You can let go. You can stop fighting. We'll be fine, I promise. I love you. We'll be fine. We love you."

I land in Chicago late on Sunday night. Jasper is the one who picks me up, and he asks after my family. His family; our family. I tell him unnecessary things first, before I inform him that he should definitely place a call to my mom some time this week. As much as I hated Carlisle telling me to say my peace; I'm somewhat glad that he did.

I don't think I'm anywhere near accepting what's about to happen, but I don't feel this overwhelming anxiety squeezing my heart every time I breathe. I'm not anxious that I'll miss her, and I'm also not anxious that I won't get to say goodbye.

Because I did.

And then I called Bella straight after, and told her that we needed to talk, and she agrees. Unlike me, though, she's arriving on Monday evening, which gives me roughly a day to sort out my own shit. The school year is starting to wind down, which really means that all our professors and lecturers are trying to pile in everything they can now that we've covered a sufficient amount of the work.

I hate them all. I really do.

I told Bella that I want things to go back to the way that they were; before all the crypticness, and before all the leaving. She sounded sad - almost resigned - about something and, when I asked her about it; she told me she would tell me when she saw me. On Monday evening.

Which is why I'm wholly surprised when Isabella Swan knocks on my bedroom door at five o'clock on Monday morning. She never knocks, but I tell myself that she was probably thinking that I was asleep.

I'm not. I've been up for a while, unable to sleep. I've been distracting myself with cell membrane biology.

I stand up as soon as I spot her, and move to close the distance between us but the first sign that something is deeply, deeply wrong is the fact that she puts a hand out to stop my approach. I raise my eyebrows in response, but she just shakes her head.

"There's something I have to tell you," she says, and her tone is so heartbreaking. What on earth happened?

"Bella," I whisper. "You know you can tell me anything." And I mean it. Despite what she thinks, I can handle it. All of it. I was already handling it, long before she stumbled into my life and set my world on fire. I step towards her, and she takes a step back.

"Edward," she practically cries. Her eyes meet mine for the first time, and I'm lost. Fucking hell, what's happened? How do I make it better?

We just stare at each other and, for a fleeting moment, I think that this is it for us. She's come here for a reason that I'm not going to like. No. That can't be. We're fine. Okay, we're not fine, but there's no way that this could be it. There's no way.

"I wasn't going to come back," she says, and I frown. "But, but I had to see you. I had to tell you - " her voice catches, and her hand flies to her mouth. Her eyes widen, and then she bolts out of my room and to the bathroom. I follow, but she slams the door behind her, and I hear her wretch. It sounds painful, and all I want to do is take her in my arms, maybe hold her hair back for her. I just want to make it better.

I don't even realise I have tears in my eyes until I hear her flush. I step away from the door and wipe at them, steadfastly ignoring the fact that Harry and Billy and Marcus are standing in the corridor with me, each of them looking concerned. Jesus. What the fuck are they all doing in here?

I hear her gargle, which prompts me to move towards the door again. "Bella," I whisper. "Are you okay?"

She shuffles towards the door. "I just need a minute," she says, her voice scratchy. "Can you just go back to your room, and I'll be there shortly?"

I don't want to, but I agree anyway. If this is what she needs, then I'm going to give it to her. I want to push. I want to know what's wrong. She has to tell me. Today. I won't let her leave until she does.

Reluctantly, I turn and make my way back to my bedroom. Something about it feels different, as if it knows it's about to bear witness to something monumental. When my door opens, it takes me little more than a second to realise that I'm right.

Bella's got her hair tied up when she comes back in. Her face is splotchy and her eyes are red. It's clear that she's been crying and, for the life of me, I can't figure out why.

"Bella," I say, because I can't think of anything else. "Bella, please tell me what's wrong?"

She takes a moment, before she lifts her head and looks me in the eye. She's more composed now, and, from this one look, I just know. I don't know how I know, but I just do. Everything that's been happening; her silence, her distance... it's all been leading up to this, and I just know.

"Bella, no," I say.

"Edward." The word comes out flat and painful. She visibly steels herself for what comes next. "We can't do this anymore."

"Bullshit," I snap.

She flinches, but I don't fucking care. "Edward," she starts again. "I told you that I was going to protect you. I told you that I was bad for you. Edward, I wouldn't be doing this if it weren't - "

I cut her off. "Stop it. Just fucking stop! Jesus. Just tell me what you really want to tell me, Bella. I'm not some fragile thing that you have to protect. I can take care of myself!"

"Not against this kind of threat, you can't," she shouts back, clearly snapping.

I step back. What? What is she even talking about?

"Jesus Christ, Edward, why are you being so difficult about this? Why are you so hell spent on making this so damn hard?"

"Because I love you!" I scream back at her. "I fucking love you, Bella, and I don't want to be without you! Why can't you just get it into your thick skull that this is what I want. You are what I want."

Her eyes meet mine again and, this time, when she speaks, she hurts us both. "Well, it's not what I want."

I stop cold. Wait.

"You just don't belong in my world, Edward."

This isn't happening. I can't - it's not - what? "Bella?" I whisper. I don't understand. Where is any of this even coming from?

"I'm sorry," she says, but she's not looking at me again. She probably won't ever look at me again. "This is just not what I want anymore."

For a second, I consider not believing her, so I ask a question that I know I shouldn't. "You don't want me anymore?" My voice is so soft, I'm surprised that she hears me.

She takes her time with her response, and I don't know whether to laugh or cry. "No."

I blink. "Oh." It's the moment I break. I don't know what parts of me break, but it feels like every part. It isn't even just limited to my heart. It's my entire body; like the strings holding me together have just snapped.

All I can really do is stare at her. She wouldn't have said it if she didn't mean it. I mean, she couldn't, right? She loves me. I'm sure of it. She told me. But she's also just told me that she doesn't want me. She doesn't want me. I can't breathe. What is happening? Why is any of this happening?

I don't even know what I'm supposed to believe.

She steps back, her gaze focused on my shoes. She's going to leave; she's going to walk away, and I'm too stunned to say anything to stop her. She doesn't want me. She doesn't want me.

"I'm sorry," she says, and I don't know why I can tell that she means it. She is sorry, but that doesn't make me feel any better. In fact, I'm not sure I'm feeling anything right now. I hurt, but I'm numb at the same time.

Bella doesn't want me.

"Please," she says. "Take care of yourself, Edward. Please be safe."

She doesn't want me.

I just watch as she turns around, and walks away. She's barely out of sight when she stumbles, her one hand reaching for my door frame; the other flying to her mouth. I think I hear a sob, and I vaguely think that I hope she didn't hurt herself.

She turns to look at me one more time, and her eyes are shining with her unshed tears. "I am so, so sorry," she chokes out.

And then she's gone.

Jasper is the one who finds me. I haven't moved from the position in which Bella left me, save for sinking to the floor, leaning my back against my desk and clutching my knees tightly to my chest. From my stance, Jasper rushes to my side and drops to his knees.

"Masen," he says. "Is it...?"

I make a pained sound, and it's enough to let him know that, no, my mother isn't yet dead. I am.

His face registers his relief, before he's looking concerned again. "Edward," he says. "If not your mother... Is - is it Riley?"

Fuck. I groan, and somehow manage to lift my head. "It's Bella," I manage to say, but my voice doesn't even sound like it's my own. Is that what I sound like? I sound broken, defeated. Stunned.

He frowns. "What's wrong with Bella?" he asks.

Doesn't he see? Can't he tell? There's nothing wrong with Bella. There's something wrong with me!

"Edward?"

"She's gone," I croak.

"What do you mean she's gone?"

My eyes flick towards his, and I think he sees all he needs to in them, because his shoulders sag.

"Fucking hell," he hisses, and I'm inclined to agree with him. I feel like I'm in fucking hell. Or I am fucking hell. When I woke up this morning, this was the last thing I expected, and I don't think that I've truly accepted what's just happened.

Bella's gone. My girlfriend. The girl I love. She's gone, and I don't even know why.

She doesn't want me anymore.

"What happened?" Jasper asks, settling properly down on the floor and crossing his legs in front of me. "What did she say? What exactly did she say?"

I'm not sure I can tell him, but I try anyway. I force the words out, and they sound like someone else is speaking. "I thought - I thought Bella was the one. Surely, if she thought the same about me, then she wouldn't have done this. Right? She never would have hurt me this way."

Jasper doesn't answer me. "Something must have happened," he eventually says. "It's so out of the blue."

I look at him. "Is it?"

Jasper presses his lips together, because he knows I'm right. I'm not the only one who noticed that something was amiss when it came to my girlfriend, who also happens to be the First Daughter. Whatever is going on; whatever she's refusing to tell me; it's clearly more important than I am.

That part at least makes sense to me. It's no secret how much she takes this whole Politics thing seriously. It's the reason she won't even call her father and tell him how miserable she sometimes is about his campaign or the role she's supposed to play. It's too important. His job; his image; his happiness.

And now she's just gone.

Jasper manages to coax me into getting up off the floor. I don't go far though. I flop down on my bed, and I try not to cry. I don't even know if I want to cry. What would I even be crying for? For whom?

He forces me to eat, but I can barely stomach anything. He guilts me into studying, which is highly effective. Bella might have shattered my heart, but she's not going to take my career. Even my mom's impending death hasn't derailed the plans I've set out for myself. The second Jasper reminds me of that, I'm able to focus on something other than the fact that Bella just left me, and I still don't even truly know why.

Jasper's at least right that there's some reason, but I'm too heart sore to take a step back and try to figure it out. She could have just told me. Didn't she trust me? Didn't she think that I deserved to know?

Somehow, by some miracle, I get through my Monday classes, but I cancel all my tutoring. I don't have it in me to be in people's presence, and offer them the opportunity to ask if I'm okay. Because I'm not. I'm fucking not okay.

On Monday night, I try to call Bella. I don't know what I'm thinking, but it's probably the vodka in my system. Fuck. Where'd the vodka come from? Where's Jasper?

In the end, it doesn't matter. She doesn't answer. In fact, it doesn't even ring.

Tuesday is much the same. I go to classes and then I lock myself away from the world. I don't want to see people, even though word hasn't seemed to have broken about the end of our relationship. Fuck, I'm not looking forward to the moment that it does. There will be questions, and I won't have any answers.

Wednesday's no better, though I don't get plastered drunk in the evening.

Thursday's when things really get fucking confusing. Tanner calls me in a panic about his Dynamics' test, and I'm forced to meet him. I'm aware that I look - and probably smell - like shit, but the boy wisely doesn't comment. I feel like shit.

When I get back to my room, Rose is sitting on the edge of my bed. She's holding a picture frame in her hands, and I know it's the one of me and my mom. I keep it on my nightstand as a daily reminder of the only woman who loves me unconditionally. I realise, belatedly, that I haven't even told my mom about Bella. Maybe I have to believe it first, before I can talk about it. Somehow, I'm expected to accept it, and I don't know if it's possible. I'm still in disbelief, really.

I remember Jasper once telling me that a breakup is kind of like a death, in that you go through the five stages of grief. I can't remember them off-hand, but I suspect I'm feeling denial and, uh, bargaining. It's the reason I tried calling her again, isn't it? To beg, or some shit like that.

Rose looks up when I drop my bag to the floor. I want to ask her what she's doing here, but I don't think I actually want to know. I'm pretty sure that I already know.

She sets the picture frame down, and then she stands up. "Edward," she says calmly, and I'm suddenly terrified. She's too fucking calm for this to be just an inquiry into the breakup. She doesn't sound as if she's here as my friend. "What did you do to Bella?"

I gape at her. Wait. What? "Excuse me?" I choke out, because what the actual fuck. What did I do to Bella? Is she fucking kidding me right now?

"What did you do to Bella?" she asks again.

"What do you mean what did I do?"

"She's gone, Edward."

I blink in surprise. "What do you mean she's gone?"

"I mean she's gone," she says. "All her stuff is gone. Angela says that she hasn't seen her since yesterday morning. Bella's gone, and tell me what the fuck you did to her."

I can't compute. "She's - she's gone?"

Rose looks impatient as she steps towards me. "What the fuck did you do, Masen?"

"Nothing," I say, and I mean it. "She's the one who came here early Monday morning to end things with me."

"What?"

I hate saying it out loud. "She broke up with me on Monday, Rose. I haven't seen or heard from her since then." Not for a lack of trying, mind you.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did she end it?"

"I don't fucking know."

"You must have some idea."

My facial features harden. "I don't."

She looks about as confused as I still feel about all of this. "I don't understand."

"I don't understand either."

"Shut up, Edward," she snaps, putting her hand out. She looks like she's thinking hard about something. "I just, I don't understand," she says after a moment. "She was just - "

"She was just what?"

"She was convinced, Edward, that you were it," she says. "Just last week, before her trip to D.C., she was saying that..." she trails off. "Before her last trip to D.C."

I nod.

"Something happened."

I nod again.

Rose starts to pace. "She has been acting weird lately, hasn't she?" Her gaze meets mine. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"That it was over?"

"Because I don't want it to be," I practically hiss. "The second I acknowledge it, it's true, and that's the last thing I want."

"So what are you doing about it?" she counters.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Something." She comes to stand right in front of me. "It's Thursday, Edward. What the fuck have you been doing this whole week?"

I don't have an answer for her, because this last week is a little more than a blur. It's probably because of all the alcohol, but still. Really, how much time have I had to try to figure out what's running through my girlfriend's mind. Oh, ex-girlfriend.

"Edward!" Her voice is rising. "You let her just leave? She's gone! Do you know what that means? She's gone, Edward!"

"It's not because of me," I argue. "Jesus, Rose."

"No!" she counters. "You did this."

"Me?"

"You!"

I don't know what it is, but something snaps in me. "Of course it is," I say, my voice layered with sarcasm. "What isn't my fucking fault, right?" I turn away from her. "My dad, my mom, Riley, Bella, everything! I'm the reason my family is dying. I'm the fucking reason why everything shitty happens in my life, right?"

Rose looks shell-shocked.

"I don't need this from you!" I shout. "I've got enough shit to deal with, without you adding Bella to it! If she wants to be all cryptic about whatever is happening with her, then I don't have the fucking time to get it out of her. Because that's the last thing I have! Don't you see? I'm running out of time!"

Rose opens her mouth to respond, but the sound of my bedroom door opening stops her.

"Jesus," Jasper says, as he steps into the room. "The whole fucking house can hear you two."

Rose turns her ire on Jasper. "Did you know?"

Before he can even think of a response, my phone rings. Tori's ringtone startles us all, and I'm relieved for just a moment before my panic sets in. I glance at the time on my computer screen, and I swallow thickly. It's late. Tori only calls this late at night when something's wrong.

Jasper knows this too, which is why he's staring at my phone on my desk with wide, terrified eyes. Rose just looks confused, but she doesn't say anything. Maybe she can feel it. This is the phone call that's going to change everything.

I'm hesitant as I reach for my phone. If I don't answer soon, it's going to go to voicemail, and I don't want to make Tori tell me the kind of news she has to in a message. I'm looking at Jasper when I put the phone to my ear.

"Hello," I answer cautiously.

"Edward." One word, and I can hear everything behind it. I can hear the sobs, the emotion, and the pain. One word, and my heart is broken. Again.

It's utterly shattered.

She doesn't have to say anything more after that. I already know. I know.

The phone drops from my hand, and both Rose and Jasper stare at me with wide eyes. They know too. It's better that they know, so I don't have to say it out loud either. How do I even say it when I can't even bring myself to think it?

"Lamb Chop?" Jasper whispers.

I shake my head. It's all I can think to do.

He takes a step towards me, his face contorting with whatever he's feeling.

It's the last thing I see before I hit the deck.