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Chapter Eighteen

"You're home early, hon."

I didn't respond to his observation; I didn't know how to, or where to even begin. I avoided looking at him, plopping myself down into a chair. My eyes still felt wet, and my nose was definitely running. I definitely needed a tissue, only I couldn't seem to bring myself to care. I was beyond caring.

"I know I'm early," I murmured, tonelessly. Still, I couldn't bring myself to look at him.

Not even when he brought me over my plate of steaming-hot dinner. It was lasagna, usually my favorite meal. Only, then, I felt different. Every part of me felt like it was aching; My legs, and heart, in particular. I had ran home all the way from Edward's apartment. It took me roughly around thirty-five minutes, and I felt as if I had a million little blisters growing on each of my feet.

But the pain was a small price to pay. I just had to get away from him. He lied to me, about everything. About who he was- especially. We had been dating for a little over six months now, and he lied the whole time! I just didn't know where to even start on trying to forgive him for it. It seemed impossible to me.

Plus, I had a dreaded feeling, deep down inside, that if we continued on with this relationship, it just would not work out in the long run. It just wasn't compatible. He probably did terrible things, like consume blood off humans. He probably even had an alterior reason for being with me; Maybe he wanted my blood, after all. He probably saw me as this potential meal, rather than an actual person he loved and could sympathize with.

They say that real love is looking past the faults of another, and accepting them whole-heartedly for who they are.

I didn't feel it was the same for me. It didn't mean that I didn't love him as much as I believed I did, the truth has just altered things between us beyond fixing, in my eyes. I didn't know what to think.

What if he kills me one day?

What if he only started wanting to be with me, because he only felt attracted to the smell of my blood?

All these questions were whizzing by unrelentlessly inside my mind. I felt, I needed to know everything. There was so much more I needed him to tell me, in order to make me fully understand. And, yet, at the same time, I wanted to steer clear of him. I felt a bit scared of him, now. I gave him my heart completely. I gave him my virginity, I gave him my forgiveness, and my trust. And yet, he was keeping it a secret from me this whole time.

He wasn't even really a man. He was so much more than that.

I realized then, throughout my restless searching for understanding, I had just been staring down at my plate of dinner, picking the mince apart with my fork. I glanced up sheepishly to find Charlie was staring at me. I wondered what I looked like, in his eyes. Dead to the world? A sobbing mess?

"What happened to the financial advisor, Edward? You didn't have any plans to see him after school, like you usually do?" His tone was distinctively suspicious.

At the sound of... his name, my fork clattered loudly against my plate. Now, that had truly done it. That had truly killed my appetite for good.

I glanced up at Charlie. He had his fork hanging midair to his mouth, but he was watching me carefully. His dark eyes took in my eyes, which were probably puffy and swollen from crying uncontrollably this afternoon, soon as I got home.

I knew then, I had to tell him. Parts of it, anyhow.

"Dad, we broke up." My words were quiet, and raspy with exhaustion. "He's not the person I thought he was. So, I ended it. It's over now."

His mouth dropped open, and I could see the shock written all over his face. Clearly, it was news to him. "Oh, hon. I'm sorry." He looked as if he was having some difficulty in absorbing it. "I didn't think that would happen so suddenly. You seemed to really like him, huh?"

Like, was definitely an understatement. But that didn't matter anymore.

"Well, it did happen. It's finished with."

"Are you... doing okay, kiddo? Listen, I know how hard a breakup can be, at any age. I'm still hurting now, whenever I think back to when your Mother sprung the divorce papers onto me."

A flare of pity sparked within. "Oh, Dad. How did you... you know, manage to get over it? Does it still...hurt?"

He laughed, a little weakly. "'Course, it still hurts, hon. The wound is still there, deep inside my gut. It just gets... easier to deal with, come the next day, and the next..." He ran a hand over his bristly moustache, wiping a few smears of cheese sauce from the lasagna away. "How did... uh, how did he take it, though?" His eyes were ablaze with concern. "I know breakups are something you can't ever see coming, not from even a mile off. Did you... end it gently?"

I thought back to this afternoon, and shivered. A cold trickling of sweat seemed to break out all over. I felt a bit guilty then, because, really, I hadn't truly ended it. I just did the most irresponcible thing, in running. My mind felt truly swamped though, clustered beyond reason. I couldn't act appropriately; My one main instinct, was to run. To flee, and get as far away from him as possible, before he tried to kill me, or eat me, or do... something.

"I don't think there is ever a way to end a relationship gently, Dad," I whispered. "Eitherway, both parties involved get hurt."

"Well, look at you." He smiled at me, sadly. "My girl's got herself a mouth full of wisdom." His look was proud for some reason; He was beaming over at me.

Really, I didn't deserve any of that at all...

I forced a smile, and pressed myself into eating again. I picked up my fork, and cut through a small slice of lasagna. The dark mince oozed out of the filling, and it made my stomach churn. I just couldn't stomach anything at all, let alone eat a single mouthful. My mind was too worked up over everything; My body was too tense.

I set my fork back down onto the side of my plate gently. "Dad, I'm sorry," I sighed, "But I really can't eat anything. Can I put this in the fridge and heat it up later, once I feel better?"

"'Course, you can." His tone was light, and casual. "I understand, believe me. You can't eat anything, because you're feeling too numb to even swallow anything down. I've been through it before, honey. Lot's of people have, your age, and older. Remember that. We all go through it!"

I knew he was saying that to try and ease my mind off of it a bit. Only, it didn't quite help me much at all. I knew something that would though, at least a smidgen. A nice, hot shower. A nice, long, hot shower.

"Thank you," was all I could manage, as I took my plate into the kitchen along with me. I stowed my leftovers into the bottom shelf in the fridge, along with my cutlery.

I was aching to hop into the shower to relieve some of this tension out.

My mouth felt dry, and parched, from the small bit of lasagna I had consumed. The mince was definitely too salty. I turned towards the sink to get myself a nice drink of cool water from underneath the tap.

Finding myself a glass from inside the bottom cupboard, I switched on the faucet and let the clear water stream into the glass until it very nearly overspilled at the rim. Just as I rested against the sink counter, looked outside the lace curtains of the small window into the back of our house, and had lifted the glass and held it level to my lips, something alarming immediately caught my eye.

A black Jeep was parked outside; the windows scrolled halfway down. The exterior was dirty, and clumps of dirt were stuck to the black, glossy paint.

I was fairly certain I could see two people inside. There was a young man and woman, and they were in the middle of talking seriously to each other. She smiled, and then he tilted his head back, like he was laughing at her. And then, the door on the side of my window was being pushed open, the male was climbing out of the car, and looking ahead at someone.

I didn't recognize the male at all; He was tall, dressed in a black knitted pullover jumper, and equally as black, acid washed jeans. He looked thin, and his hair was cut below his shoulders, wiry, and a light blonde. His complexion was very pale, and that was what made him stand out the most to me.

A second later, I realized he was staring ahead at something out of my range. I lunged to the wall, and craned my neck over, scanning everywhere with my eyes. And, yet, I couldn't see a single darned thing.

What the hell was this guy looking at? It just didn't make any sense. I couldn't see anyone.

Feeling faintly disappointed, I curled my lips over the smooth rim of my glass, and took some water into my mouth. It got caught in my throat, went down the wrong windpipe, until I found myself gagging, because- -

Edward.

He came sailing up to the other guy, his movements small and gait hunched.

The other guy smiled happily and, next thing I knew, he was grabbing Edward by the neck and pulling him in to embrace him. It appeared as if they were two long-lost, old friends, almost. I didn't know what the guy meant to Edward exactly, but... even after everything, I found myself caring.

And then, bewilderingly, there were two more of them. Two men suddenly came out from in the cover of trees to stand by them.

One was dark-skinned, with long dreadlocks dangling below his shoulders. The other, was just as pale as Edward and his friend; his light brown hair bunched up into a tight ponytail. They all shook hands with one another, and patted each other on the shoulders, like they were getting ready and bracing themselves for something. I didn't quite know what.

Until what happened next, that was...

So suddenly, it left my stomach reeling, the pony-tailed one glanced right up at me, as I was standing there. I realized a moment later, I had been holding in my breath. I was starting to feel dizzy.

He gripped Edward by the shoulder, bringing his attention, and then, he lifted his arm and was pointing... up...up to right where I was looking through the window.

Oh crap.

Edward looked up at me next, and it was the change in his face that startled me the most. There was just nothing there. He truly looked dead, as he stared up at me, his eyes holding me in. Exactly like before, with our week's seperation, the effects were left there on his appearance. It was unnerving. Only when he reluctantly broke the gaze to bring his lifeless eyes back over to his alarming group of friends, was I able to turn away. I sunk down onto the kitchen tiles, clutching a hand over my chest. My heart felt it were thumping a million times a minute, in both fear, and shock.

I didn't know what they were all planning in meeting together, like this. But I could only assume it was for nothing all that good.

Were they all banning together to come for me? Were they coming to hurt Charlie? Was this some way Edward felt necessary to scare me with, to seek revenge and intimidate me with, over how I reacted to him this afternoon? Was he-

An urgent banging noise erupted from the front door. It was him; it had to be him!

I got to my feet, and ran as fast as possible towards where Charlie was to warn him. Only, it was too late. He was already standing by the door, looking out through the crack at who I knew was Edward.

And, Edward, it was.

"Charlie, sir." He sounded breathlessly ecstatic my father had answered. "I was really hoping, if you would be so kind, as to let me in for a few minutes to have a word with your daughter. There was a misunderstanding this afternoon, and I truly need to clear it up with her."

"No." The instance Charlie had said it, full of conviction, it made me instantly relieved. Everything felt lifted, then. "I don't think Bella wants to see you anymore. If she does, then I won't interfere. But, as for now, leave her alone. She's too upset to even think straight."

"But, sir, I-" Edward was arguing with him, desperately.

"Listen, I know break-ups are hard, kid. But she doesn't want to see you right now, do you understand? Don't make me have to get my gun!"

"Please, sir, you don't-"

I stepped closer towards the door so that I could see his face. Soon as he realized I was standing there, he fell immediately quiet. We looked at each other, for the briefest of a second. He was breathing loudly. He was frustrated, and his eyes were bleak, bloodshot, and begging. He was wearing his contacts again, of course.

"Bella?" Charlie was staring at me, judging my expression with his eyes. He was trying to figure out what I wanted, in that moment. "You want to let him in, and talk?"

I shook my head violently, my mouth clamped together. I didn't think I could quite handle being near him right now.

"Bella, please, darling, I-" His voice was a low, hoarse whine. "Please, let me just-"

And, at that, Charlie closed the door right into Edward's face, cutting off his pleadings instantly.

"Thank you," I whispered, in relief. I threw my arms around Charlie's waist, and hugged him tightly. He croaked out a hesitant laugh.

"Geeze, since when do we hug, Bells? You haven't hugged me since you were around, uh... eleven!"

I smiled fondly into his shirt. "Since now, Dad. We hug since now."

He patted me on the top of my head with a content sigh, all his movements uncertain and awkward. But I loved it. Now, I wouldn't want it any other way, because, after what Edward said, about saying my farewells to Charlie, it just made me want to appreciate my time with him even more.