A/n: Hey! Okay, I decided to post this whether or not anyone reviewed...which only one person reviewed...Thank you by the way…I know some of you are not happy with me for having the nerve to take this down a while back, then rewriting, and reposting but I hope you stick around anyways. All chapters will be longer as some of you had requested the first time around. I pinky promise not to take this down, again. I'm sorry…*sniff *...I still love you guys... Hehe*blushes*...anyway, please please please review! You have no idea how much better it makes the writer feel when someone comments on their hard work, good or bad, really ;) okay, see ya'll later!
Edward moved farther back into the cover of the shadows with his heart thundering, his gaze dropped to the ground, clenching his fists in a helpless rage. Fury slammed forming a tight sick fist into his gut. How could a man who claims to love her, be so selfish. He couldn't help thinking to himself, this guy was a complete ass. Cheating on someone as sweet and beautiful as Bella was downright sinful. His morals at times may be questionable but cheating was one thing he would never do. He knew betrayal all too well. Not something he'd wish on his worst enemy. He didn't hold any hard feelings toward the one woman who broken his heart. Well, not many hard feelings anyway. He didn't like to admit it, but he'd lost his ability to believe in happy ever after. He was struggling to believe in a lot of things.
Maybe it was because he'd learned that nothing was permanent. He hoped Bella wouldn't suffer as he once had. He did his best to keep the past safely where it belonged and the memories buried. However, fate had a funny way of showing you how little control you really had with your life.
It may have been years since he had last seen her, but she didn't deserve a man like this poor excuse of a man. She was fragile, but strong. She would have to be, to come back from the ordeal. Hidden, he waited until Bella had passed by, the man who was obviously her deceiving good for nothing fiancé right behind her, before Edward dared loosen up his hands. It wasn't hard to tell that this man was someone with a wondering eye. The red head that had been with the scumbag wandered off in the opposite direction, who to him didn't appear to have the grace to look apologetic, disappearing into the crowd. Edward had no quarrel with her, at least not yet. Who knew what the two-timing worthless bastard had told her. Then again that woman could have been just as guilty. It was hard to tell these days.
He didn't like how this was ending. He couldn't begin to explain why. There were just excessively to many emotions coming into play. Past hurts. Not that Edward had the right to stick his nose into Bella's business. He started to step forward before thinking better of it. She'd be horrified to learn that anyone had witnessed her fiancé's betrayal. Still, he wasn't reacting any differently than Emmett or Jasper would have. Either one of her brothers would have laid the man flat already. Charlie on the other hand would have shot James full of holes. Not that he would blame him.
That Edward had shown any kind of restraint was a small miracle, a testament to how far he'd come from the impulsive kid with a short fuse who'd left all those years ago. At least something from his mothers teaching had sunk into his thick skull.
The fireworks were over, the last of the red, white and blue from the climax, already fading from the dark sky. Dozens of people had started hauling their feet toward the lineup of cars and trucks that stretched at least a quarter mile down private road leading to the highway. He tried in vain to keep track of Bella's movements, but he lost her in the crowd. Although he figured she had to be headed for the safety of the house. He hoped she wasn't stopped by too many people.
He jammed his hands into his jean pockets, he strode in the same direction, staying clear of the lighted areas, not anxious for anyone to recognize him and start shooting the bull. He wouldn't mind running into Emmett or Jasper, although he knew enough to keep his mouth shut about what he just seen. Whatever happened with the engagement. Whether she was foolish enough to give the guy a second chance or send him packing, it was up to Bella to deliver the news to her family.
Man, he hoped she did the smart thing. Nah, he didn't have to worry. Bella had more pride and gumption than to take back the bastard. She'd cut him loose. Thankful for not making the mistake in tying herself in marriage to the wrong man. Unfortunately, that was the easy part. He wondered what she had seen in this guy in the first place since to him the guy appeared just as live as a cold fish. The next few days of second-guessing and painful self-doubt was the stage he didn't envy her. The pointless replaying of conversations that had left her uneasy, of the excuses he'd given that she readily and irrationally accepted. Edward knew the drill. He'd been there himself once.
Edward rubbed the tension building at the back of his neck letting go of the sigh he was carrying. He was so tired. 'Bone weary would be a good way to describe it,' he thought with a scowl. He breathed in the fresh air, filling his strangling lungs. Damn, he wished he hadn't headed to the bunkhouse. He needed to focus on the rustling problem, and now all he could think about was the rearranging that jerk's face.
A/N: Let's face it – writing a review is not the most fun thing in the world to do. It can be hard to come up with a comment that's not the same thing you've already said a million times. But those little comments, even the repetitive ones, are incredibly important to fan fiction writers, no matter whether they write quickly or slowly, whether they have lots of experience or are just beginning, and even whether they already have lots of reviews or none at all.
Those of us who write fan fiction aren't going to be rewarded for it. We can't make money off of it, we aren't going to get a Pulitzer for the best story of the year, and we don't even have the thrill of knowing that this thing we're writing is our own – it's based on somebody else's original work. So why do we do it? Why do we spend hours and days writing these ridiculous stories? It's because we have become entranced by a good story, and we don't want it to end. We are desperate to let the fun continue.
Fan fiction writers do not have to publish their stories. I have known talented and prolific people who keep their writing private. However, those of us who do publish do it because we don't want the story to end for other people, either – we want them to share in this vision we have. It's a risk to publish – we risk being ignored, being criticized, and being flamed. In return for taking these risks, we need some confirmation that our vision is being shared, that other people love this story too. Sure, we enjoy getting advice on how to improve our writing, and we like to be told that we're good writers, but at bottom, what we want more than either of those two things is to know that there are people reading who understand why we've gotten so caught up in this story and these characters. This is what gives us the reason and the courage to keep writing.