Disclaimer: All Twilight characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

This story is not to be reproduced or translated without the expressed consent of the author.

A/N: A huge thank you to those who have read my first chapter and to those who have reviewed and/or added me to their story alerts and favorites lists. Your input and support mean a lot to me! Enjoy!

Together at last at Twilight Time

Chapter 2

Edward's POV

I was waiting for the perfect moment to pull my cheesy little stunt on Bella. Everyone was shuffling between the deck and the kitchen—the guys were grilling steaks, mixing drinks and chilling extra bottles of beer and wine, the girls were preparing the side dishes and setting the massive patio table. One of our random playlists was blaring through the outdoor sound system, allowing the guys to butcher every song that came on and causing the girls to dance around when they heard one they particularly liked. As soon as Bella hit a lull in her dinnertime duties, I would make my move.

Finally, Bella set down the last wine glass on the table, took a swig from her already half empty wine glass and turned to face the ocean, leaning against the deck railing, her hands perched on top of it. The sun had just set as she was staring ahead at the fading horizon. "Perfect," I mumbled to myself, a slight smile forming on my lips. I turned on my "Bella" playlist, quickly downed the rest of my beer and headed out the sliding door as soon as I heard the first song start.

"Oookay, who put this shitty ass music on?," Emmett whined as he continued to man the grill, not bothering to look up.

"Suck it, Em!" I yelled back, giving the finger in his direction as I kept my eyes set on the beautiful sight before me.

Bella turned to look over her shoulder back at me. She knew immediately what was happening as I headed right in her direction. She was giggling to herself, never breaking eye contact with me as I finally stood right next to her.

"You enjoying the view, Bella?"

"I'm enjoying the view now, Edward." She stunned me with the most gorgeous smile that could ever grace her face.

"Mmm, as am I," I said to her, leaning down to press my forehead to hers, sharing intimate smiles just meant for one another.

The rest of our crew was still busy preparing our dinner, but each briefly acknowledged our running inside joke—some with chuckles, others with catcalls— and quickly returned to their tasks, leaving Bella and I to enjoy our private moment.

After a minute, I swiftly leaned back to stand up straight and I offered her my hand. "May I have this dance?"

"Aww, Edward, I thought you'd never ask.," she playfully teased, finishing the remainder of her wine before placing her hand in mine. I felt that spark as soon as our fingers touched—it never ceased to amaze me that it happened every single time. I could have sworn that she always quietly gasped every time, too.

I guided her out onto the sand and wrapped her in a tight embrace while we swayed as one to Twilight Time by The Platters. Although we had acquired several of "our songs" over the years, this one was our Balboa House song, particularly meant for this time of day. Bella had mentioned Twilight Time the first time we watched the sun set together on our spring break of freshman year. The following night, I downloaded the song and played it through the very same speakers and guided her to the very same spot on the sand to dance with her. We continued this tradition a number of times each year during our spring and summer breaks. It never got old and luckily our friends seemed to tolerate it. But we wouldn't have cared either way.

"I can't believe we just graduated, babe. It all went by so fast. Too fast," Bella lamented as we held each other.

"I know. It sucks that this may be the last time we'll all be together like this…at this house." I looked into her eyes and saw the small tears forming, willing to break free at any moment. I had to make sure those tears would be ones of happiness.

"But at least you and I…we'll always be together, Bella." I turned her body and pointed to the dream house three houses down…our dream house. I had told her time and time again that we would eventually have that house for ourselves.

"Just look at our future beach house. Our very own Balboa House, baby. Someday, just you and me and our little family."

She smiled up at me with a small tear falling down her cheek and leaned her head against my chest, relief washing over us as we thought of our future together.

"Mmm, it sounds perfect, Edward. I can't wait for my tomorrows with you."

Bark! Bark! Bark! Bark!

Leah, my chocolate Labrador Retriever, was barking next to my ear, effectively taking me out of my lingering daydream. This morning I woke up from that same dream—or rather an actual distinct memory—except last night's dream continued well into what happened later on that evening behind closed doors. Damnit, Leah, you're such a bitch. I rubbed her back and playfully tugged on her ears before she bolted towards the water to chase the waves. I stood up from my place in the sand, brushed off my shorts and started to fling rocks and shells into the ocean. It was still hard to imagine that that would be the last time Bella and I would ever dance together to our song. Or that vacation would be the last time Bella would step foot on this beach…our beach. And now, in a few short hours, Bella would be back at the Balboa House for the first time in eight years…and without me by her side.

In all honesty, Rose and Jazz couldn't have planned their celebration at a better time. I haven't had a real vacation in almost three years—only the lone road trip up the California coast I took right after breaking things off with Charlotte, celebrating my freedom from a relationship in which both parties knew they weren't truly in love. Not like the love Bella and I shared…not even close. But it was during that road trip that I found myself constantly thinking about Bella and reexamining every single detail of our relationship to figure out her true motivations for wanting to split us up in the first place. It got me nowhere since the one person who could help me understand was no longer speaking to me.

Looking back, I always thought my relationship with Bella was going on the right track, even from day one. We met our freshman year at UW, became fast friends and then lovers soon after. Of course being together during those four years of college was no walk in the park, but we overcame every challenge together, always stronger, always enduring. When we found out that I got accepted into the medical program at UCLA, both of us were thrilled, but we also knew that we would have to maintain a long distance relationship since she was going to pursue her Masters in education at UW after graduation. At the time, we thought we'd be able to handle it with no problems…we thought our love was strong enough.

God, we were so innocent and gullible back then.

The first year away from home—away from my Bella—was the most physically, mentally and emotionally draining year of my entire life. Having to deal with and adjust to the rigorous workload of medical school on top of trying to sustain our relationship was exhausting and frustrating. I became envious of the fact that she was still near most of our friends and all of our family back in Seattle. I was jealous of the new friendships she had made without me around to know about them, especially with other men. And above all else, I felt utterly guilty for leaving Bella to pursue my dream of going to medical school at UCLA. I hardly ever talked about the negative, seeing as though Bella always seemed so optimistic and supportive. I didn't want to let her down. Instead I just brushed it off, as if those thoughts never existed in the first place. When our conversations did hit a sore spot, she would tell me that our separation wasn't a big deal in the grand scheme of things, and that she'd still be there, waiting with open arms for me to return after graduation and start our life together. But the perpetual guilt always crept into my subconscious, leading me to inadvertently push her away.

Soon after my first year of medical school was completed, Bella struck me with a major curveball—she wanted out. I'll admit, I knew we had reached a turning point in our relationship, but I never thought we would ever reach a breaking point. Maybe I was simply too tired to see it. My body felt so depleted, and I knew something had to give. Through the haze of that fateful phone call, I could only make out little fragments of Bella's conversation—too painful, less pressure, easier this way, it's for the best...just friends. But in my mind, this only meant a temporary break from us, where I could focus on my studies, and when that was completed, we could come back together and rekindle what we once had. So as much as it hurt, I accepted Bella's decision and tried to handle it as best I could. We still called each other for a few weeks after our breakup. It was exceedingly difficult to break from such a natural routine. Yet as friendly as we tried to be, we almost always ended our calls having fought over something annoyingly trivial.

And then there was one night that altered the course of history as I knew it, effectively leading me to my existing fate. It was the night I committed the worst possible act which would conclusively destroy everything I had with Bella. We had been fighting non stop after our breakup and I was even more confused and exasperated over our given situation. Feeling a need to release all my pent up stress, I went out to a bar with a couple of buddies for a few drinks. A few drinks turned into several, several drinks turned into numerous shots, and a pretty blonde classmate turned into a one night stand that I would never be able to take back.

The amount of guilt I experienced from that one single action superseded all the guilt I felt for leaving Bella in Seattle. It was overwhelming and devastating. But instead of reaching out to her and being honest with her, I just shut down altogether. I didn't call the morning after it happened, or that afternoon, or that evening. And she never called me to find out why I hadn't called. That day turned into a week, which turned into months, and eventually years. I was a coward who was too weak to keep the one thing that mattered to him. My indiscretion…and my silence…those were the final nails in our coffin.

It wasn't until Angela and Eric's wedding three years later that we saw each other again. We said our awkward yet polite hellos, I introduced her to Charlotte and she introduced me to James. The second I shook his hand, I wanted to beat the living shit out of this guy. It wasn't that he was a horrible guy, but he was with Bella. And anyone who was with Bella who wasn't me, didn't deserve to be with her. Call it irrational, call it possessive…I was jealous when I had no right to be after what I had done to her. So being the adult that I was, I sucked it up, enjoyed everyone's company and held on to Charlotte for the rest of the night. She knew who Bella was and the history we shared, but she never knew about the effect Bella still had on me. Even after all those years.

So after a week into my lone road trip of freedom-turned-angst, wallowing in my Bella infested sorrows, I pushed my feelings aside, yet again, drove back to LA and completely threw myself into my work. Fast forward three years to the present, and I am almost at the point of severely burning out. When I got the call from Jazz a few months back that our whole gang from UW—including Bella—would be at the family beach house for two weeks to celebrate his and Rose's 30th birthdays, I immediately set my schedule so that I would be free from work that entire time.

As soon as my schedule was verified and established with the hospital, my excitement escalated at the idea of reuniting with everyone again and finally being able to unwind and let go. Surfing, swimming, drinking, laughing…just like old times. But then the reality of the situation set in and my excitement turned to sheer panic. Bella was going to be here, with us, with me, for two weeks. Immediately my mind went into overdrive. How will she react the first time we see each other? What should I do? Kiss her? Hug her? Is she even going to want to be around me? Can I handle being around her for that long, after being apart and not speaking for so long?

Even though the last time I fully spoke to her—because the time at the wedding doesn't count—was over seven years ago, I still knew what she was up to. We were all still friends with the same group of people, plus my two cousins, who are more like a brother and sister to me, are her best friends and still live close to her in Seattle. What I gathered from my sources over the years was that she finished her masters in education in 2004, a year after we separated. Soon after, she accepted a teaching position at one of the more prestigious high schools in Seattle as an English teacher.

A year later she met James, who was a friend of another English teacher she worked with. They were already dating for over a year when she brought him to Angela and Eric's wedding. However, I heard that she broke up with him the following month. Rose and Jazz would sometimes mention the disastrous dates Bella occasionally went on, none of which ever developed into anything serious. Jazz believed that it was because she always put her work first, but Rose believed that it was because Bella never fully moved on from us. That tricky little witch, always holding out hope that one day we'd find our way back to each other. If I was honest with myself, I always held out hope in spite of what had happened. Only in a perfect world.

At this point in my trance-like state, I noticed that Leah was already on our deck, barking yet again, and waiting for me to open the sliding door back into our house. I looked up at the sky…it was twilight. I had to go inside. I couldn't look at the horizon at this moment, not without Bella, and definitely not on this beach…our beach. We've been coming here every spring break and every summer vacation since freshman year. My parent's beach house, which we shared with Jazz and Rose's family, was the heart and soul of the innumerable memories we've created over the years. It was the Balboa House that really forged the bonds of our friendship between the twelve of us…our UW crew. And the Balboa House was the beginning of my and Bella's incredible four year relationship. I looked over at the Balboa House, briefly envisioning the two of us laughing and hugging on the balcony of my old bedroom.

If only things were different.

I turned to my right, and looked three houses over, to my own Balboa House, what should have been our house, and headed back in that direction. I walked up the deck and opened the door allowing Leah to bounce through before I slid the screened door shut, letting the ocean breeze waft around my open family room. I decided to straighten up around the house to kill time and distract my mind before calling Rose to check in on them.

Forty five minutes later, with the place now spotless, I poured myself a couple shots of bourbon and picked up my cell phone to call Rosalie. She informed me that they would be arriving in a few hours and I mentioned that I'd like to stop by and help them get settled in. She also mentioned that she wanted to have a celebratory toast once they arrived as well. Typical Rosalie. I told her I'd bring over two bottles of Dom Perignon just as she wished, which she seemed pretty excited about. Once I hung up the phone, I glanced over to the mantel and walked towards the frame on the far right hand side.

Looking at the picture, I chuckled at the sight of the crazy group of twelve young adults that comprised our UW crew. When I focused on the sight of a young Bella and a young Edward, I couldn't help but recognize the love and happiness so apparent in our eyes. We were no longer those young, naïve, and carefree kids. We had both grown up; and regrettably grew apart. Yet with us reuniting, at the same place where our love first began to flourish, I knew I would finally get my chance to find out some honest reasons for her wanting to leave me. I also knew I would have to divulge the secret I've been bearing all these years which could ultimately keep us apart forever. I didn't know what the final outcome would be after this momentous reunion, but I was nervously anticipating what the next two weeks had in store for two very specific people. Maybe fate had brought us back together for a reason. But one thing was for certain—I would never keep Bella in the dark ever again.

By the time 11pm rolled around, the slight effects of the bourbon were coursing through my system. I felt relaxed, I felt gooood. Good enough to head down to the Balboa House and finally see Bella again after four god-damn long years. And of course see the rest of the gang, too. I headed up to my bedroom to change my shirt and spray some cologne on when I heard my cell phone ring. It was Rosalie.

"Hey, you guys get in yet? Okay, no problem. I'll be there in a bit. Alright. Bye." Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. They're here. Bella's here. Calm the fuck down, Cullen.

Starting to feel light headed, I braced myself against the bathroom counter and slowly inhaled and exhaled. Deep breaths, you can fucking do this. As soon as I felt myself regain enough balance to stand upright, I walked downstairs, poured myself a double shot of bourbon, quickly swallowed the burning liquor and took the bottles of champagne out from my fridge. Before I could think about anything else that would allow me to lose my cool, I headed straight for my sliding door and walked through the sand towards the deck of the Balboa House.

Oh, shit. I should have chugged the entire bottle of bourbon.

I was already halfway to the house when I spotted a figure standing on the deck under the moonlight and twinkling stars. I blinked my eyes a couple of times, making sure I wasn't hallucinating. I could recognize that figure from anywhere. Suddenly I stopped in my tracks, unable to move any further, just mesmerized by the sight of her. There she was, my Bella, leaning against the deck railing, just like I remembered she had always done all those years ago. Her head was tilted up, her eyes were closed, her body simply drinking in the salty ocean air as it lightly caressed her perfect face. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun and I desperately wanted to take that fucking clip out so I could see her beautiful long hair again.

And just then, as if she could hear my thoughts, with her eyes still closed and her head still tilted, she raised one of her hands to the back of her head and unclasped her hair, freeing her wavy mahogany locks to dance along with the breeze. In that moment, for a split second, I had a vision of Bella and me in the same exact spots, Bella unclasping her hair in the same manner, and Bella opening her striking chestnut brown eyes to look over at me, sending me a playful smile.

And like that the memory vanished. I nearly collapsed right there on the sand. Instead, I let out long and drawn out breath which I had been holding the entire time I've been watching her. I saw her open her eyes, yet this time she stared straight ahead into the darkness, the moon being our only source of light. Appreciating that she hadn't seen or heard me yet, I decided to finally move again and walk right towards her. There was no stopping me now. I had to talk to her, I had to touch her, I had to look into her eyes again. I had to be near her.

I had to be with Bella.

Musical Muses:

Sparks – Coldplay

Let You Down – Dave Matthews Band

You finally made it through the first two chapters! My apologies for both being so long and chock full of information so quick off the bat. But now you have an idea of what happened and now in future chapters you get to see Edward, Bella and the rest of the characters in action. I hope you all keep tagging along as we see their journey unfold. Thanks again for reading and reviewing!