A/N: This took me like forever to post BUT, you wouldn't be reading this if I hadn't had my beta and new found friend Angela. I seriously love her for fixing my mistakes.

Without any further ado, here is the first chapter of Falling Apart.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

Once upon a time I was falling in love
But now I'm only falling apart
There's nothing I can do
A total eclipse of the heart
Once upon a time there was light in my life
But now there's only love in the dark
Nothing I can say
A total eclipse of the heart
~Bonnie Tyler (Total Eclipse of the Heart)

Chapter 1

Just breathe, Bella. Inhale, exhale. It's not that hard.

Well, it was easier said than done. My hands were shaking so bad I almost dropped the glass of water I was holding in my hand. My throat was as dry as sandpaper, and I was positive my face had lost all of its color.

I was sitting at the table, the dinner cooked, the laundry washed and ironed, the flowers watered and the house cleaned. It was unbelievable how much I'd managed to get done in just a few hours, but when you were desperate to get your mind on other things it turned out to be a great opportunity to get your daily chores done. But there was still ten minutes left, and there was no escaping it now.

I'd started working at the headquarters of CIT Group two years after I majored in economics at NYU. I'd been placed in the Trade Finance section, and I'd loved working there. I had many co-workers, that way no one questioned why I was always alone. It was a safe zone, because no one really cared. They all had their own lives to worry about. I didn't have time to make friends when I actually had a job – millions of people didn't – and I did anything to make the boss happy with my work. This resulted in my closest relationship being with my boss, Rosalie Hale.

Rosalie was a lot like me – stubborn, persistent, hard-working and honest (some said 'bitchy', but she ignored them). But she was also scared to open up – like me – and that was the reason we never really became friends, no more than exchanging phone numbers and chatting at work.

But she was my closest "friend" and although I enjoyed being alone, it would be nice to have someone to talk to. Especially now, but not even Rosalie could help me. Not with this.

Because she was the one who put me in this situation in the first place.

"Mrs. Cullen?"

I covered the phone with my hand and looked up, seeing Rosalie's secretary standing in front of my desk.

"Yes?"

"Um... Ms. Hale wants to talk to you in her office," she said, shifting slightly.

Rosalie wanted to talk to me now? That's weird. She knew I was negotiating with an important client, so it must be very important, then.

"Okay, I'll be right in," I responded and returned to the phone, quickly ending the call with the promise that I'd return with more information as soon as possible.

I went to Rosalie's office and passed her secretary outside, who was looking very uncomfortable and refused to make eye contact.

What is her problem? I thought. I'm not exactly her best friend, but she could at least say 'hi' or something. Whatever.

The door was open and I went right in to the office. Rosalie was sitting at her desk, her chin resting on clasped hands, her face expressionless. This was Rosalie Hale, the president of Trade Finance, not the friendly and happy Rosalie I chatted with. No, this was not her. This was the reason they called her a bitch, because she could surely be one.

"Bella," she said and gestured to the armchair in front of her desk.

"Rosalie." I closed the door and sat down, all the while studying her face.

There was absolutely no sign of emotion. Her face was like stone. But when she opened her mouth to speak, her control wavered and her gaze shifted from left to right until she focused on the desk again.

It was long enough for me to notice the emotion in her eyes. But I couldn't place it. Was it desperation? Sorrow? One thing was for sure, nothing good could come out of this.

Rosalie cleared her throat. "Be – Mrs. Cullen," she corrected herself, "I wanted to meet with you today to talk about your future. You've been a fantastic employee these past years, and we are very pleased with –"

I quickly saw through her charade. "Cut the crap, Rosalie."

She immediately stopped talking, her eyes widened in surprise. She opened and closed her mouth once, twice (I counted) and a third time before she gave up with a sigh. Her eyes wandered around the room, until they finally made contact with mine.

They were shiny with tears.

"I'm so sorry, Bella," she said, slightly shaking her head in exasperation. A tear rolled down her face and she drew a deep breath to compose herself. "But I'm afraid that y-your position is n-no l-longer a-available."

If I was surprised by her behavior when I told her to cut the crap, I was in full shock by now.

Rosalie was crying. And it wasn't like a few tears trailing down her cheek. She was really crying. She was sobbing; tears were streaming down her face. She gazed at me, as if pleading for me to understand.

I was paralyzed. I couldn't move. I just sat there, staring.

"I'm so sorry," she repeated. She looked desperate to make me understand, but I was numb. I didn't feel anything. I wasn't here. Rosalie wasn't crying.

"I swear, I did everything I could, but –"

I flew out of the chair, so furious I couldn't sit down. "You 'did everything you could'? Really?" My voice had raised an octave. "But I'm still fired, right?"

All I saw was red, red, red. And a small blonde dot.

I didn't realize I was shouting until I saw Rosalie flinch at my words.

I controlled my anger and tried to stay calm, but as soon as the fury disappeared, another emotion hit me like I'd run into a brick wall.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes.

Rosalie and I were very much alike, but apparently there was one exception.

Rosalie didn't want to show herself weak in front of other people and neither did I. But she had matured. I hadn't. She'd let herself be weak today, in front of me. But I still couldn't stand to show weakness. I couldn't afford that.

I flew to the door, but stopped when I laid my hand on the knob. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Rosalie standing with her mouth open and a shocked look on her face.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned back to the door.

"Maybe," I whispered."Maybe..." I said, louder this time, "you could have fought a little harder."

I grabbed the handle, wrenched the door open and slammed it closed again. The door frame shook from the impact, and I got the attention of fifty pair of eyes who were suddenly staring at me. I turned around to Rosalie's secretary, and then I remembered I didn't know her name. I looked at her desk. Ms. Jessica Stanley. Hmm.

Jessica looked up at me from her papers and I smiled sweetly at her. "Jessica, would you mind telling Ms. Hale that I'll start clearing my desk out now?"

She blinked. "Uh, yes – I mean, no, of course I don't mind," she said, "I'll tell her right away."

"Thank you."

I turned on my heels and walked to my desk to pack my things.

When I'd been packing my stuff, they all started gossiping. I found out that twenty-four other people had been fired besides me. I'd been the first one.

No one really knew the reason behind the sudden decision to fire twenty-five people, but there were a lot of rumors. Someone said that the new CEO was planning to fire everyone, and that this was just the beginning. Another one claimed that Rosalie fired every person she saw as a threat to take over her position. A third person thought the company wanted to get into the newspaper. And maybe that was what they wanted.

When the company had declared Chapter 11 bankruptcy in November of last year, the future had been looking dark. But after quickly emerging from the bankruptcy court proceedings and getting a new CEO, things had been okay. Or so we thought. Now, we could only speculate – or gossip, as people usually did – about the reason why this had happened.

I knew Rosalie didn't want to fire me. I knew she'd been told to do this, and she couldn't refuse an order. But the fact that it was she and not someone else only made the aching pain worse.

My job was everything to me. I'd put my heart and soul into my work, it was the reason I would wake up in the morning. So when I suddenly didn't have that anymore, I didn't know what to do.

But that wasn't completely true, either. I had another reason for waking up in the morning, the reason I was still here. And that reason just walked through the door as I heard a loud slam.

Edward was home.

I tried to calm down the way I'd done at work, but the difference now was that I didn't have to calm down because of anger. This time it was out of nervousness and fear.

Edward was not only the reason I wanted to live, he was also the cause of the only fear I had. Because he was the only one who had more power over me than I did.

I pushed the chair back and stood up to welcome my husband home, willing my hands to stop shaking. I didn't want to fight, but I wouldn't let him get to me and break the courage I'd built up since I came home.

"Bella?" I heard Edward's voice from the hall.

"Dinner's ready," I called, taking a step forward but stopping when I heard him coming into the kitchen.

He stopped abruptly in the doorway and frowned. "Have you cleaned?" he asked, looking confused.

"Yes, I have," I responded carefully, anxious about what his reaction would be.

"Haven't you been at work?"

"Yes, I have." It wasn't exactly a lie. I had been at work, just not very long.

He raised an eyebrow. "Then how come you had time to clean the whole house and make dinner in just an hour?"

I knew what he was doing. He suspected something, and by asking more questions, I would eventually succumb and tell the truth. I'd fallen for this trick many times. But I wasn't quite ready to share the news yet, so I decided to lie and prayed to God he would believe me. "I left early." Well, that wasn't a lie either.

He walked a few steps forward, staring into my eyes intensely, searching for the lie I knew he wouldn't find.

I straightened up and looked him in the eye back, silently challenging him to even dare distrusting me.

This could end in two ways – he could believe me, or I would be in big trouble. Luckily, he chose the first alternative.

He shrugged, smiling the crooked smile I loved. "Okay, what's for dinner?"

I breathed a sigh of relief and sat down at the table. "Um, pasta. And meatballs." Edward loved meatballs, and I'd secretly planned this to put him in a good mood. I didn't want to tell him I had been fired if he'd woken on the wrong side or if he'd had a bad day at work.

Edward sat down, licking his lips in anticipation. "Great. I knew there was a reason I loved you," he teased, winking.

All I could do was nod and smile a tight smile. Did he really mean that? Did he really love me?

The romantic confessions were rare nowadays. I knew Edward had loved me when I married him, but even I knew love could cease. He still told me he loved me, but it was always when he was teasing, like this time, or whenever I told him I loved him. And I couldn't see if he was telling the truth. But there had to be something that still held him here, and I hoped with all my heart that it was his love for me.

I'd never been one to make hasty decisions, but I'd never doubted my feelings for Edward. I knew I wanted to spend my life with him. Perhaps this wasn't the life I'd imagined, but I accepted it. Maybe I'd misinterpreted Edward, because after all, I'd married him after I'd only known him for four months. I'd known another Edward, yet this one had begun to emerge instead.

But my Edward was still there. He didn't show often, but when he did, nothing else mattered. I was complete when his mouth twisted into his lopsided grin or when I saw the joy in his eyes driving the Vanquish. That was the reason I could withstand the fights, the crying, and the absence from the Edward I knew. Because it was all worth it. Call me a lovesick fool if you want to, but it's true.

I suppose when you don't have anything else, you hold on to the things you have left. I didn't have much contact with my family, and Edward had none at all. His parents died in a car crash when he was fifteen, and afterwards he'd stayed with an aunt he had no contact with now. I had been concerned about his parents and the accident when I first met him, but he'd assured me that he was fine and he'd moved on a long time ago.

I talked to Charlie now and then, but it wasn't as often as when I first came to New York. Charlie had been worried about me moving to NY in the beginning, but I'd been ready for a change. I'd grown tired of Forks and wanted to explore the rest of the world. Charlie had accepted it, but when I told him that I had married Edward, he'd gotten so furious with me he'd stopped talking to me for two months. Our relationship was better now, but it hadn't fully recovered yet and probably never would.

I came back to the present. Edward was shoveling the food into his mouth, looking like he hadn't eaten in a week. I'd barely touched the food. I picked at it with my fork, but I wasn't really hungry. The nervousness came back and I couldn't postpone it anymore. I had to tell him.

"Edward?" I said quietly, staring at the plate.

I took a deep breath and looked up. Edward was on his second serving, still shoveling the food, barely noticing me. "I have something I need to tell you."

"Okay..."

"Something important," I clarified, trying to get his attention. But he still wouldn't look at me, so I decided to just get it over with. "I got fired today."

I flinched when I heard the sound of a fork hitting a plate. Or a knife, I couldn't be sure. I'd clenched my eyes shut as soon as I'd said 'today'. I was too scared to see his reaction. I was positive he would snap, now that I had a weakness. I was sure he would mock me for not having a job and tell me that I was fitting in with the pathetic housewives I'd often complained about.

I heard a 'hmpf' and then everything was quiet. Too quiet.

I hesitantly opened my eyes. Edward was staring out of the window, probably looking at his Aston Martin in the driveway. His nostrils were flaring, his gaze bewildered. I could see he had to control himself from shouting at me. I was happy he would at least attempt to not do it.

I turned my gaze to the fridge. There were two photos on it: one from our wedding, and the other from our trip to Florida a year ago. The wedding photo was taken in a beautiful garden. We hadn't bought a house yet, so we'd gotten married at James' house, a friend of Edward's. I had wanted to get married in a church and Edward wanted to go to Vegas, so we chose something completely different. It had been a perfect day; the sun had been shining, the birds chirping and the trees had been a mixture of red, yellow and orange.

It was a picture of us standing face-to-face, my right hand resting on Edward's chest. We were gazing into each others eyes, smiling, our faces glowing. I looked happy. Content. It had been the happiest day of my life – standing in front of the pastor, promising to love my angel for the rest of my life. I had thought it was everything I would ever need. My angel.

The other photo was very different from the first one. It had another … feeling in it. When you looked at the wedding photo, you could almost sense the happiness pouring out from it. But this one made me kind of sad. Apart from the obvious reason – it was raining, and I always got sad when I was reminded of Forks and Charlie – I didn't see any happiness in it. Sure, we were smiling, but in my case it didn't really reach my eyes. Edward was just blankly staring into the camera lens, an arm casually thrown around my shoulder.

"Why?"

Huh? Oh, right. I was in Brooklyn, not in Florida.

I pulled out of my reverie, turning my head in Edward's direction. I was prepared for the vision of a furious Edward, but when I looked at him his face was blank and radiated calm.

He couldn't be calm now, could he? I'd confessed a lot of stuff before, and he'd shouted at me until I thought I couldn't take anymore. Maybe he could see I was afraid of his reaction. I wasn't sure how he read my expression, but I was sure he could smell my carefulness and fear.

"Why?" I echoed. I didn't understand. Why what?

"Why did you get fired?" he clarified in a calm voice that matched his face.

I chose my words carefully. "I... I don't know. No one knows. Twenty-four other people got fired, too."

"So it had nothing to do with your... ah, performance?"

I realized I'd been looking down at my wringing hands in my lap. I looked up at Edward again.

"No," I said quickly. "At least, I don't think so," I added to smooth over my quick reply. But I made the mistake to start roving around the kitchen with my eyes, never making contact with his. I suddenly found a boring painting very interesting.

I could see him raising his eyebrow in the corner of my eye. "But... I'm not... sure," I hesitantly confessed, furrowing my eyebrows.

This is it. I fucked up this time, this is my fault. Why didn't I work harder? I could have prevented this. Why did I have to get fired? He's not gonna want me when I don't have a job. When I'm useless. Worthless. This is it. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. I'm not gonna cry. I won't cry. I. Won't. Cry.

"Alright."

Iwon'tcryIwon'tcryIwon't – what? Did he just say 'alright'?

My mouth fell open in surprise, my eyes quickly meeting his gaze.

This was as near as you could come. This was my Edward. His arms crossed, grinning his lop-sided grin, his eyes melting to a sparkling green.

I couldn't help the smile that started to grow. It wasn't a voluntary reaction; it was more like a reflex. And every time, my ability to speak properly disappeared.

"Yeah..."

He chuckled softly and leaned over the table. "So, what are you gonna do now? Find a new job?"

I gazed into his eyes, trying to make him understand. "I won't find a new job, Edward. Not in these times," I shook my head slowly in exasperation, "I can't work as a waitress with a major in economics."

"Take a job in another bank, then," Edward suggested. "You can't just sit at home all the time. You'll go crazy," he said quietly, worry in his eyes.

I laughed bitterly. "Yeah, we'll see about that. Anyway, I'll sign up for unemployment tomorrow and then we'll just have to see what happens." I started clearing the table, effectively ending the discussion.

"Yeah, I suppose," he said, leaning back in the chair that made a squeaking sound from the weight put on it. Which reminded me, we needed to buy new ones. These were pretty old and not the best quality. Edward had been the one to buy them when we moved in, and I'd tried to explain to him that I would handle the shopping because men knew nothing about interior decorating. But he'd wanted to surprise me and I just couldn't tell him I hated them, so we'd kept them. But I couldn't stand the purple cloth together with the light wood anymore. Ugh, I shuddered at the thought of it. Luckily, I had a perfect excuse to throw them out now. Ha.

I put the dishes in the dishwasher and pushed the button. I dried my hands on a towel, inspecting the kitchen cabinet doors. There was a crack in one of them. Edward had gotten a little angry last month and instead of taking it out on me he'd punched the cabinet door. The rest of them weren't in the same condition, but they looked a bit worn out. Maybe we could repaint them. I could go to the paint shop tomorrow and...

I froze. I hadn't heard anything, but I could feel warmth radiating from a body behind me.

I didn't breathe. I didn't look. I heard the slow breathing of a man, but I didn't turn around. I couldn't. Because I knew exactly who it was, and I was too much of a coward to face him.

A gentle hand brushed my hair aside. I felt his breath near my right ear when he exhaled. "Bella?"

I winced when I heard his voice. I closed my eyes and nodded, signaling that I'd heard him.

"You lied to me, baby." He spoke in a soft, quiet voice. It sent chills down my spine, scaring me more than if he'd been screaming the words.

I knew that this was what I'd been waiting for the whole time. He'd finally lost it. I'd been wrong when I thought I could get away from this. I'd thought he'd actually help me. That he would support me. But it was all an act. He just saved the best for last.

He moved closer, pressing his body as close as possible without pushing me into the sink. How many times had I dreamed of this, longed for being this physically close to him? But now it just made me want to throw up.

"Do you know how that made me feel?" he asked sadly, playing with a strand of my hair.

When I didn't respond, he gripped my shoulders and shook them roughly. "Answer me," he hissed.

I yelped and opened my eyes in surprise. I stared at the sink until I managed a whispered, "No."

"'No', what?" He shook my shoulders again.

"No, I don't know how that made you feel," I half-gasped, half-whispered.

"Let me inform you, then." He gently let go of my shoulders and continued to play with my hair. "It made me feel... hurt, betrayed, to see you lying in my face like that," he said, his voice rising in feign hurt. "You don't want me to lie, do you, Isabella?"

It took a moment or two to find my voice.

"No."

My heart was beating a hundred times per minute, my breaths came in short, shallow gasps and I was trembling, so much. I couldn't stop it, no matter how hard I tried.

Please, for the love of God, make him stop this. I can't take it, I can't take it. I can't... take it.

I flinched when I felt his touch on my cheek.

"Bella, turn around."

I shook my head. No.

"I just want to see your face," he pleaded.

I shook my head again.

"I said Turn. Around." The fury was unmistakable.

I whimpered but quickly obliged his request. I spun around, keeping my eyes on the floor. No, I have to be strong. I have to be strong.

I looked up. What I saw in his eyes almost made me drop my eyes to the floor again, but I collected my strength and opted for his chest instead.

His eyes were so cold I nearly didn't recognize him. He wasn't the same man. This one enjoyed what he did to me. He got a rush from seeing me like this.

That made me start hyperventilating.

Pleasepleasepleaseplease makehimstopmakehimstop!

"Bella, I love you," Edward said, using his soft voice. He made it sound like it was an excuse, but also as an explanation.

I couldn't utter a word, but his words made confusion set in my mind and I faltered slightly in my breathing process.

Then why...?

I didn't finish the thought, because Edward leaned forward towards my face and started whispering in my ear.

"But if you ever lie to me again," He paused and chuckled, "you can start packing your bags. Because this, will be over."

He spun on his heels and walked up the stairs. I didn't breathe until I heard the bedroom door slam.

I stared right in front of me. At nothing. At everything.

Then it all came crashing down on me.

Suddenly my knees couldn't hold up my weight anymore, making me slide down the cabinet doors to the floor. I started hyperventilating, trembling, pulling at my hair, making sounds I'd never heard.

And then I started crying.

A/N: What do you think? Leave me a review!

Until next time...