Authors note: In case you didn't realize, two chapters will be added at a time, one from Bella's perpective, and one from Edward's. After all, this isn't just about Bella's loss of love, it's about Edwards lack of finding it.

I do not own Twilight, Edward, Bella, Jacob, Charlie, Alice, etc, etc.

I had done what I promised myself I would do: I allowed someone to talk to me. I didn't completely seclude myself.

I began to wonder if Edward's kindness was a one-time deal. A whole "treat the new girl nice" thing. I had never changed schools before, with the exception of moving from Elementary school to middle school, and middle school to high school. And there were so many students in Phoenix, new ones didn't draw that much attention, so I didn't know what was customary behavior towards a new student in Forks.

But Edward's answers to my questions left me thinking. Did Jacob really love me those last few months of his life? I knew he at least thought of me as a close friend: he was always there and ready to help. But did he really return the unconditional love that I had for him? Either way, there was no chance of finding out now, unless we found some journal in which Jacob poured out his love for me. And teenage guys rarely kept journals.

He had never bothered talking to me about any nagging problems he had. Looking back, I couldn't find any signs that could have led to suicide. A girlfriend is supposed to be someone that you can turn to whenever you need help. I think not knowing any reason to live constitutes the need for a little help. Had he purposely kept the signs hidden from me? Did he really care about what his death would do to me?

And if he didn't care, was he worth wasting time over? Was he worth my grieving if he never paid much attention to me those last few months?

Was it ridiculous that, after all that Jacob had done to me, even if he did realize his death would tear me to the core, I still loved him?

Despite the fact that his death made me want to commit my own suicide, I couldn't forget all that he had done for me. It was like when a wife finds out her husband is cheating on her. She cries for weeks first, and then files the divorce papers. Most people aren't angry with the ones who have hurt them. It just feels like they're angry because they're severing ties with someone that they love.

I went to school the next day in the same haze that I had the previous two days. I slithered by from class to class, expecting no one to pay much attention to me. And for the most part, they didn't, with the rare exception of when a teacher wanted me to answer a question.

The surprise came when I walked into the cafeteria and saw Edward already seated with his food at the table that we sat at the day before. I didn't know much about Edward. I knew that his last name was Cullen (I had peeked at his lab sheet before he turned it in), and he had a sister named Alice (which he had mentioned earlier). He obviously didn't know that much about me for that matter. Why would he want to be around me?

I didn't take my eyes off of Edward the entire time that I stood in the lunch line. He seemed to follow suit. I grabbed my food and sat across from him.

"Are you going to make a habit of this?" I wondered almost rudely. Despite the harshness of my tone, Edward's lips pulled into a gorgeous crooked smile. I had been too worked up yesterday, asking Edward my questions, to really notice his charm. Not that charm meant anything, but it was kind of eye-catching the way that his bronze hair looked amazing, despite the fact that it didn't appear to have been combed that morning. And when a few strands fell into his eyes, I couldn't help but realize the depth of the green in them. As his smile spread, I was drawn to his perfectly sculpted cheekbones. My eye caught the motion of Edward fiddling around with the cap of his soda bottle. Looking down, towards is twiddling hands, I was drawn to the muscular look of his forearms. Where had he come from? Mount Olympus?

"Can't I express my concern for a clearly suffering new classmate?" Edward wondered, in a somewhat mocking tone, breaking me out of my facial study.

"Are you making fun of me?" I asked, slightly offended. Just slightly: I really did appreciate his concern.

"Are we just going to sit here asking questions that don't get answered?" He had a point. Every sentence said so far had been a question. "Do you want to see how long we can keep this up?"

"What's your record?"

"Don't know."

"Ha! You lose," I exclaimed in triumph. I was crazy. I was celebrating a victory against a complete stranger. A sign that wasn't good in any situation, let alone mine.

"When had we made it a competition?" he continued questioning, though the game was over. It almost made me laugh.

"I don't know. Either way I won," I bragged.

"Actually, I kind of won in a way, too. My goal for today was to try and lift your spirits a little bit," he confessed.

"Well, don't hope for any long-term improvements," I warned him. Though I didn't know him very well, I didn't want him to get his hopes up, possibly hurting him. He seemed like the kind of guy who set his mind to something and got it done. If he was trying to help me, it would either take a really long time, or not happen at all.

Edward cocked his head to the side.

"Why not?" he wondered.

"Lightning never strikes the same place twice. The only way I'll be happy on a more permanent basis was if it did," I explained metaphorically.

"So...you'll only be happy if you get struck by lightning?" he asked in sarcastic confusion.

"Are you always this sarcastic?" I questioned.

"Only on Wednesdays. On Mondays I'm observant, Tuesdays I'm concerned, and Wednesdays I'm sarcastic. Oh, and you should wait until tomorrow. Thursdays are my hilarious days," he joked. "But seriously, I was just trying to make sense of what you just said. You confuse me a lot," Edward confessed.

"Good, you might spread my life-story around if I told you what I meant. I really don't need that right now. Hell, just the story of the last month would have people sending me to therapists," I predicted.

Edward took a moment to let all of that process. When his green eyes returned to me, they were more concerned than ever.

"Bella, I just want you to know that whenever you're ready to talk about it, I'm here. I'm here anyway, but when you fell like opening up, I'm listening. And I promise I won't tell a soul," Edward swore, without a single falter in his voice. He hadn't even blinked.

"Thanks...but why do you even care?" I asked him. It seemed odd that after only three days of knowing each other that he would be so determined to help me.

"That's a really good question," he admitted. "I guess I've never seen someone hurting as badly as you seem to be. It makes me feel like a jerk for ever feeling sorry for myself in the first place."

"Why would you be suffering?" I wondered.

"Because I have too much," he answered. "My brothers, sisters and I don't know if someone is close to us because they enjoy our presence or the perks. That's why we mostly just hang around each other. And the perks, they're not even mine to have," he said.

I tried to grasp the concept of his last sentence, but the logic escaped me. And why would anyone complain about having too much?

"I don't understand..." I confessed.

"I was adopted a few years ago, Bella. My parents both died long ago of sever cases of the flu. I had gotten sick, too, but somehow I came out alive. I was in the social service system for years. Every year that a foster child ages, his chances of adoption drops. Just the fact that Carlisle and Esme adopted me at age thirteen was a miracle. If my parents hadn't died, I wouldn't have half of the things that I have now," he explained. "If I hadn't survived, if I had just died with them, I wouldn't have had any of it. And now people try to get close to me because of something that never should have happened."

Edward's story made me kind of sad. Not in the way that I felt sorry for him. I mean, he was blessed with his adoptive family. I felt sorry that he wished he was dead with his parents, for feeling that he didn't deserve to live. But mostly, I felt sorry that he thought of it the way that he did, like a curse or something, and I had no problem telling him that.

"You've been given a second chance at life, and this time, life threw you a situation that others would die for, and you just mark it off as some huge burden! You've been given parents, who willingly took you in, despite your age, and shared with you everything that they had. You have a sister who sure as hell seems really insightful, and I don't know much about the rest of your siblings, but you guys seem pretty close with the way you talk about only hanging around each other. And you find that bad? Just because your parents died?

"I, personally, would kill for you situation! If both my parents had died and I was sent away, no matter how crappy my foster homes could be, my life would be no where near the hell it is now! If I had been forced from everyone I cared about, I wouldn't...I wouldn't've...I...I h-h-have to g-g-go."

With that I threw away my only half-eaten lunch and ran out of the cafeteria in sobs. My tears we caused by my unfinished statement. If Charlie had died somehow while I was living with my mother, and then she died, too, both of them only children, and both sets of my grandparents dead, I would have become a ward of the state. I would become a foster child, taken away from my friends, people that I loved. I wouldn't have fallen so deep, and it wouldn't have hurt so much when I heard of Jacob's suicide.

I would give anything to have filled Edward's shoes. And he thought of his fortune as a mistake.