A/N: I do not own the Twilight series. Stephenie Meyer does. No friggin' duh. And I hope this story isn't too horribly depressing. This kind of story often puts me in a state of depression. Ha ha ha, but that is what makes me evil, right?
I tried to speak, but I couldn't. It felt like the hole I'd had in my chest when I'd left Bella, when I'd thought she was dead, was back with a vengeance. Because this time it was my fault. I could have saved her. But I hadn't. And now she was dead.
"Edward?" Alice finally said.
"I'm still here. Listen, Alice. You know I can't live in a world where Bella doesn't exist. I'm going to go to the Volturi again, but this time, I don't want you to come after me. Let me go. It's for the best," I whispered.
"Edward, no. Please don't," she pleaded with me.
"Alice, that's not going to do you any good. I've made up my mind."
"Edward, think about the rest of the family instead of you for once-"
"I am, and trust me, they wouldn't want to be around me now," I sighed.
"Don't do this, Edward!" she shouted into the phone.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. I snapped the phone in half before she could reply and dropped the pieces on the ground.
"I'm sorry, love," I whispered, trying to stifle the sobs now threatening to overpower me at any moment. I angled myself so I was running in the direction of Port Angeles and, more importantly, the airport.
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"Yes, ma'am. I'd like a ticket for the soonest flight to Italy," I told the young woman at the counter in a cold, robotic voice. I had to act that way, or I was in danger of losing control of my emotions.
"Uh… sure. Aren't we in a hurry, hon?" she said with what I suppose was meant to be an alluring voice.
I glared at her coldly. "You have no idea." She was trying to figure out what she'd said to upset me as she handed me a little slip of paper.
"Er… flight eleven, son. They're ready for boarding. Have a nice day." I nodded at her and quickly turned and stalked in the direction of the waiting plane.