SM owns.

Mari, you're everything that's right with the world.

No excuses, I'm just sorry.

(The name of this chapter has nothing to do with the Megadeth album)

Enjoy.

Chapter 14: Rude Awakening.

"The truth of the matter is that you always know the right thing to do. The hard part is doing it."

H. Norman Schwarzkopf.~

I've never been in a fight before. I am not the kind of person to let confrontations get physical. It doesn't mean I don't know how to defend myself either. I have an older brother who took the job of teaching me how to punch someone seriously. He'd be proud to see the broken jaw of the man standing in front of me.

When I figured out that James was the person behind us, the one to interrupt my passionate moment with Bella, the one who has been the reason behind nights of heartache for me in one way or another, I lost it. I didn't stop to think, or took deep breaths to calm myself; I just walked over to him and punched him in the face.

Seeing him not fighting me back and hearing Bella asking me to stop, brought some sense of reality back to my body, making me stagger back in shock. His blood is all over my knuckles and it makes me question who I've become. Watching the warm liquid running through my wrist, and through my dress shirt, makes me wonder why I did this.

He didn't deserve it. I realize this now. It's not his fault Bella grew up the way she did. It's not his fault she didn't love him enough to salvage their marriage, she didn't love him at all. If anything, he may be just a victim of her charms. I've been subjected to her flirty kisses and seductive looks when she wants something. Who is to say that it wasn't the same for him? Maybe he wasn't planning on marrying her at all. Maybe, when he took that business trip, he didn't expect to return home engaged. Maybe, in a very strange, very not possible way, he loves her. But not like I do, that's impossible.

The hurt look on his face as his gazes at Bella taking my injured hand in hers, confirms this.

"Are you okay Edward?" She asks cleaning my hand with a napkin. I don't know how much time has passed since I hit James.

"You should ask him. He's the one with a broken nose." I say coldly, taking my hand out of her grasp. A shock look settles on her face, followed by hurt and then confusion. She turns around to face James who is trying to stop the bleeding with his hand on his nose. And I know. In that instant his eyes connect with hers, I know he loves her. I know she hurt him by not loving him back, by cheating on him. I know he's trying to make sense as to why and how he got to this point. I wonder if that is going to be me five years from now.

"She doesn't care anymore." He tells me. "She's never cared." He turns around to walk away and I think he's leaving, but then he returns with some papers in his hand and drops it at her feet. Bella is as still as a statue and as white as a ghost. I've never seen her like this. I wonder what is going through her mind. I wonder if she's having as much conflicting thoughts and questions as I am.

"These…are our divorce papers, Isabella. You're free. You're free to go on living your life like this. You think this is what your mother wanted? For you to live your life like a robot, with no feelings? You're wrong. This is not what she meant. And if you keep that up you're going to end up alone, and probably a drug addict, just like her. So…good luck butterfly, good luck and goodbye." He tells her, full of passion and conviction despise the hurt in his eyes, and then walks away.

I flinched when I heard her full name coming from his lips. And my heart broke when he called her butterfly, probably an endearing name he used to call her.

I close my eyes and take deep breaths, trying to calm the turmoil inside me. I hiss when I buried my hand in my hair. Bella turns around at the sound, silent tears streaming down her face. She goes to me silently, takes my hand out of my hair, and starts dragging me to her building.

"I'm going home Bella." I tell her before she gets the idea I'm spending the night. She shakes her head and continues walking, trying to move me with her.

"Bella…" I breathe her name, pleading with her not to make this any harder.

"No, Edward. You are not driving home like that." She says in a monotone voice.

"It's just some bruised knuckles. I can drive myself home." I reason, not moving from my spot. She turns around to glare at me.

"Stop being so damn difficult Edward! You're not driving like this, so get inside so I can look at your hand."

I sigh, and take her in my arms. I smell her hair and feel her relax in my embrace.

"You know I can't stay." I whisper. She starts shaking her head frantically against me.

"You can't leave me. You can't leave me." She mumbles to my chest, grabbing fistfuls of my shirt. "Nobody cares about me, Edward. You're the only one who does. Please don't leave. Please, Please…" She continues, desperation clear in her voice. I pet her hair and rock her in my arms, shushing her because seeing her like this is breaking my already broken heart.

"That's not true sweetheart." I tell her after a moment. "James…" I start, trying to tell her that he loves her, because I'd recognize that look on anyone's face. I see it every day on myself. But she cuts me off and steps away from me.

"He's not important. I'm sorry Edward. I'm so sorry that you had to see that, baby. But it's okay…it's over. He's not my husband anymore, we can…we could…" She says looking around frantically, her hands shaking. She's falling apart. She's falling apart right in front of me, and I know that no amount of love is going to fix what has her damaged.

I take her hands in mine and place them in my chest. She takes deep breaths and manages to calm herself. I kiss her forehead and her lips, softly, once…twice, before speaking.

"Bella…do you love me?" I ask her gently, knowing this is going to be hard. She stiffens and looks down before trying to break my hold on her.

"No," I say stopping her. "Stay still, look at me, and just say the words. Tell me you love me." I plead her.

"I…Edward…please." She stutters, fresh tears forming in her eyes.

"I love you, do you know that?" I say when she can't finish any of the sentences she starts. She takes a deep breath and nods.

"I love you so much it's not healthy, baby. I love you so much it feels unreal. I love you so, so damn much Bella that I've been setting us up for a disaster. I thought my love was enough for the both of us, that me loving you so much, made up for the fact that you can't love me back. And we can't go on like this anymore, sweetheart. I need you to get yourself together, I need you to do whatever it is you need to do, for us to work, because if you don't…we'll have a repeated performance of tonight a few years from now, and we don't deserve it. So please, please love, I'm begging you, go deal with the demons inside you, and come back to me, come back to me so that you can whisper that you love me back."

She nods not uttering a word, not putting up a fight, making more tears fall from her eyes at the same time that it starts raining. And we just stand there under the rain, both of our tears concealed by the water from the sky, holding each other tightly.

I hug her and kiss her trying to show her all the love and pain I'm feeling right now. I hug her and kiss her, making sure to give her something worth coming back to.

I don't know when we will see each other again. I don't know when, if, she comes back, she will want to be with me. All I know for now is that I love her, and I love her enough to do this.

I got in my car after a blonde woman named Rosalie arrived. She took Bella inside the apartment, and promised to take care of her. It was four in the morning. I drove, for what felt like hours until I found myself in front Emmett's house. I used my spare key, fixed myself a drink, and crashed on his couch.

He arrived home at noon, took a long look at me, and fixed me another drink. I didn't leave his house for a whole week.

"Are you planning on telling me what happened at some point during your stay?" He asked on the third day, and I managed to tell him without falling apart.

"You did the right thing." He said and made me eat and take a shower that day, before getting me another drink and leaving for work.

Today is the first time I go to my apartment after that night. There are unheard messages, unchecked mail, nothing matters. This place feels, once again, void of life. It reminds me of the times when she used to come every Friday, only to leave early on Sundays.

Those were the hardest days of our relationship; when she left.

I always begged her to stay. But today, I am responsible that she's not here. Maybe we could've continued to pretend that things were going to be okay for a little while longer.

What if she doesn't come back? What if it was all for nothing? What if she meets someone else?

I start regretting my decision.

I miss her.

One Month Later.

"Has she called you?" My father asks me, refilling our drinks. I shake my head.

"She will."

"What if she doesn't?"

I empty my drink again. I don't have an answer for that.

Two Months Later.

The ringing of my phone wakes me up at three in the morning on a Saturday night. I answer it hastily, just to find silence on the other end. I have the feeling it's her, but she doesn't say anything. I fall asleep again with the phone pressed on my ear.

I don't know who needs more help out of the two of us.

Three Months Later.

"You've gained some muscles." My mom comments, during our weekly lunch.

I shrug.

"I've been training with Emmett." She smiles knowingly.

"Is he giving you a hard time?" She asks, ready to intervene if necessary.

"No more than the usual." I say casually.

Four Months Later.

They are all too much. Or not enough. They're too tall, or too short, too fat, or too skinny. Too long hair, too short hair. Their perfume is not right, their clothes are not right, nothing is right because they're not her.

"You're supposed to buy them drinks Eddy. That's why they dress up, so that rich good looking guys like us, notice her, and buy them drinks." My brother says before taking a long sip of his beer.

I ignore him.

"Is that what you think this is about?" A strong female voice asks from behind us.

"Excuse me?" Emmett says, turning around.

"You think we, as in women, dress up and come to the club, so that, how was it you said it… Rich, good-looking guys like you take notice and buy us drinks? As if I don't have the money to buy them myself? I could buy the entire damn bar if I wanted to, thank you very much. In fact, I don't even like guys buying drinks for me." She gives the speech of the year and both my brother and I are amazed with her.

I see the spark in Emmett's eyes, and I know he's done for. I am amazed for a whole other reason.

"Rosalie?" I ask her timidly. Her hair is different, and it's been a while, but I know it's her. Does that mean, she's with…?

"Edward?" She says, with recognition in her features. My brother just looks at us with confusion in his face.

The three of us leave the bar together, and I shoot Rosalie with questions. Where is she? What is she doing? Why hasn't she called? Who is with her? Is she coming back soon? Is she coming back at all?

Rosalie can't answer half of my questions, but I'm feeling better after we part ways. We exchanged phone numbers, and of course…my brother asked her out on a date. They'll get married one day.

I know it.

Five Months Later.

"Is this why you asked her to get better? So that she could come back to this? Damn it Edward, get yourself together. Bella is probably busting her ass off, trying to be the best woman she can be, because you asked her to, and this is what you're doing in the meantime? Drinking yourself to a coma every night? If you keep that up I'll call her and tell her not to bother to come to you. She deserves better."

Turns out Rosalie ended up being a good person to have in my life. She's all business and fire tongue. No bullshitting around this one, and I understand why she and Bella are friends.

She doesn't let me drink every night or mope around my house every day. She calls nonstop until I drag my ass out of the house and go to work. When the calls don't work…she stops by. She's a force to be reckoned with.

I just don't understand why she bothers. Why is she doing this with me? She just met me. I mean, a month is not really enough time to care enough for a person to do what she does for me.

I've come to the conclusion she's doing this for Bella. Because she thinks Bella is coming back to me and she doesn't want her to come to the pathetic man I've become in her absence.

Rosalie and Emmett are on a weird stage in their relationship. They've gone out like five times but they're not exclusive, and before Rosalie says yes to a date, Emmett usually has to work pretty hard for it.

I don't get their dynamic, but I don't care.

Nothing is really important enough to get my attention for a long period of time. My mind, body and soul are focusing in one thing and one thing only. Everything inside me knows that it's been five months since I last saw her.

Five months since I last held her in my arms and kissed her.

One hundred and fifty two days missing her, yearning for her, aching for her touch.

What was I thinking that night? What if she doesn't come back? What if she does come back but decides she doesn't want me?

What am I going to do then?

"Stop it." Rosalie's voice comes from my kitchen. She's fixing a drink for her or something. I'm not a good host. I look at her as she walks to the living room and joins me on the couch. I give her a questioning look.

"Your eyes have this crazed, derange look. You must be over thinking shit in your head. Stop it." She says in her firm voice, and takes a sip from her juice.

"I'm just…" I start but I can't continue. I take deep breaths and tug at my hair. Rosalie looks at me with expectant eyes. "I'm tired." I say. It's the best true I can give to her right now. She scoffs.

"Well, judging by the huge awful bags under your eyes, you must not be sleeping well. Of course you're tired." She says with no compassion in her voice or her face. It irritates me. Everything and anything does lately.

"That's not what I meant." I spat. She knows that. I'm tired of waiting. Of wanting. Of not knowing.

"Look," she says, her cold blue eyes softening for a second, "I know, okay? I mean, I get it. I'm…sorry." Her words do nothing for me. Not really. Because she doesn't know and she doesn't get it. And her being sorry doesn't fix anything. Plus, it's not her apology I need.

I don't voice my thoughts out loud. I just give her a short, stiff nod. She nods back and that's as warm and understanding as she's going to get, or so I thought.

When we walk to the door so I can bid her goodbye after she's finished her drink, she turns around, "Have some faith." She tells me with a small smile before walking away.

I want to have faith, I think as I walk to my bedroom.

The real question is, should I?

No, I don't think I should.

If there's anyone out there, still reading, thank you and I'm sorry.

Next and final chapter before the epilogue should be up in a few minutes.