Chapter Eight: The Best Part of Me Was Always You

*EPOV*

Mountains. Stacks. Piles. That was the best description that I could come up with for all the fucking paperwork I'd had to fill out since returning from "the dead." Insurance forms, social security papers, company files. The endless appointments scheduled with specialists to ensure I was in good health. Not to mention having to field the calls from all the networks and papers that wanted an interview. It seemed as though everyone and their mother wanted a piece of me.

Meanwhile, I just wanted Bella.

…And Emma-Grace. Gracie. My daughter.

I had a daughter. And I'd missed out on everything in her life thus far.

Pressing my palms to my eyes and leaning forward onto the slew of forms and documents that had amassed in front of me, I thought about what had happened to me in the last couple of days: remembering who I was, finding out about my girl being married, discovering I had a kid—it was almost too much to process.

I had run away from her, from both of them. Like an asshole.

When my parents handed me that picture frame—there weren't words to describe the emotions I was feeling. Disbelief. Confusion. Amazement. Shock. Looking at her sweet face and beautiful, perfect features, there was no doubt in my mind that she was my child…our child. It was as if I were looking at a picture of myself, only with springy curls and Bella's smile just beneath the surface. She was absolutely stunning; truly the best of me and my girl. But how?

My parents had explained to me that she found out she was pregnant a few months after I disappeared, and that had been the only thing that held her together. It was really the only thing that held all of the members of my family together. They also attempted to tell me how Bremner had stepped up and taken care of her through everything.

I didn't want to hear about any of that.

Groaning at the memory, anxiety flooded my thoughts. I was worried that I had ruined my chance to really get to know my little girl by running away from her. I wondered if I had scared her. My parents told me that she knew all about me, and that they were her grandparents. They also gave me some minor details about her, like the fact that she loved to draw, her favorite color was pink—big surprise with Alice as her aunt— and that she had a goldfish named Jacob. The information that they did not provide, however, was what I truly craved.

No matter what our circumstances, especially now more than ever, I couldn't help but feel that they belonged with me. I knew the situation was complicated—she was married, but that didn't stop me from thinking that all of this just didn't need to be as fucked up as it was. Though I knew it wouldn't be as simple as packing up her shit to move it back home, I knew that we would figure it out. I just wanted everything to go back to the way it was. To the way it should be: Bella and me, raising our kid together. I planned to lay it all out for her when I met up with her later that day.

My brother's booming voice echoed through the house, surprising me. A few moments later, he walked in with Rosalie not far behind.

"How's it hanging, Dude?"

Groaning, I rubbed my hand across my face before gesturing to all the paperwork that was spread out before me. "Just peachy, Em. What're you two up to today?"

Rosalie scowled slightly as she pulled out a chair and sat. "Ask him," she prodded as she motioned toward her husband.

My brother cleared his throat, his expression turning serious. "A little birdie told me that you had plans to go see Bells later today, man. I just needed to set some stuff straight with you before you tromped over there, making demands and shit." He glanced at his wife before continuing. "There's stuff you don't understand. And while I am completely stoked that you're safe at home, I've been taking care of her for practically her whole life. I'm not about to stop now."

The silence that followed his warning stretched on as I just stared at him. Is he fucking kidding me? He thought he needed to protect Bella—my Bella—from me? Where the fuck was he when she needed to be protected from Bremner? Fucker.

"Look, man, I don't know exactly who you think you need to protect her from, but I thought I'd been the one who had been taking care of her for my whole life. I know I had amnesia, but fuck, I didn't forget that."

His fists clenched in front of him and he opened his mouth when Rosalie cut him off. "Edward, look, what papa bear here is trying to say is that she's been through a lot. She's a delicate petal," she trailed off, rolling her eyes. "She needs to be protected from everything, even from you." Crossing her arms across her chest, she narrowed her gaze at me before zeroing in on her husband. "Both of you, well all of us really, want the same thing. You and Bella—together forever." She batted her lashes exaggeratedly before continuing. "What both of you seem to forget is, one: that she is a grown woman and is capable of making her own decisions—even if she almost always makes the wrong ones. And two: James is good to her. He's crazy about her, and Gracie is his whole life. I can promise you this—he's not going down without a fight."

"Neither am I. There's no need to fight. You're making this way more complicated than it needs to be. She's been mine since we were kids. She wouldn't be with him if I hadn't been…gone. I'm back, and I'm not going anywhere—ever again."

My sister-in-law looked at me with the most sympathetic expression I'd ever seen on her face. Was that pity? She pitied me? She should be feeling sorry for stupid Bremner.

"Dude," Emmett looked at me with concern. "She's not gonna—"

Shaking my head, my brow furrowed as I held up my hand in an effort to get him to just stop. If he thought he was going to convince me that my girl would rather be with someone else, he had another thing coming. She belonged with me, and I knew she knew it.

"Look man, I appreciate you trying to prepare me or protect her or whatever-the-fuck you were trying to accomplish here, but it's not needed. It's unnecessary, Em. Things seemed fucked up right now. But not for long—not after today."

"Dude, are you ser-"

"Where are you two meeting?" Rosalie interrupted us, her voice soft and even. She was trying to diffuse the situation that was seemingly escalating into territory that I didn't want to get into with my brother, and I was thankful for her disruption.

"At our apartment. She told Alice that she was planning on giving it back to me so I wouldn't have to stay here if I didn't want to," I said as I motioned around my parents' kitchen.

She gasped. "She said what? She's giving you her apartment?"

"What the hell, Rose? It was my apartment, too. Why wouldn't she—it's not like she needs two places to live," I huffed indignantly. "She thinks it's best for Gracie if I move in there. So, uh, whenever she comes to see me, it'll be somewhere she's already comfortable. I don't think I want to stay there anyway. Not if he ever…" I trailed off, unable to complete my thought. Running my hands roughly through my hair, I realized how much I did not want to think about Bella being at our apartment with some other guy—especially fucking Bremner.

"She didn't," Rosalie whispered, putting a halt to my internal tirade. "She never let him live there or even sleep over. Look, I'm not telling you this to get your hopes up. I don't think there's any point. They've been married less than a year, but she's with him now. It took her a long time to get where she is. Don't take that away from her."

"Whatever," I mumbled, relieved that she hadn't lived with him in our home.

Just then, my mother walked into the kitchen and looked over at us with a sad expression. "Sweetheart, are you ready to go? I can drive you."

"No, Mom, it's okay. I'll drive myself. I, uh, I don't know how long I'll be." I hadn't mentioned to her about me moving back into my old apartment. She had barely wanted to let me out of her sight since I got back. I knew it would be hard on her.

Emmett straightened his stance, ready to reiterate what he already told me about not hurting her.

As if I needed to be reminded.

"Save it, Em. I'm gonna tell her how I feel today, and that's all there is to it." I looked at him, daring him to argue back.

To everyone else, it probably seemed hypocritical of me—here I was trying to take fucking Bremner's girl away from him. The fact that no one else seemed to recognize was that Bella wasn't his to begin with. She's always been mine, and if a huge…just fucking tragedy hadn't occurred and totally fucked up everything, there would be nothing to argue over.

It wasn't that I didn't respect the vows people took when they got married, just that I knew my girl didn't mean them. She couldn't have. She never would have said "I do" to anyone else if I was still in the picture. I didn't understand what had allowed her to do it even with me out of the picture, but that was something I sure as fuck was gonna get to the bottom of when I saw her.

My brother's loud mouth interrupted my musings. "Dude, just…fuck, man. This was harder on her than it was on anyone. She just needs time. You don't understand—"

"You're right. I'll never understand. She belongs with me." With that statement, I turned and walked out the door, heading for Bella.

X-X-X-X-X

She was shifting uncomfortably on the couch, fidgeting and playing with her hair. We'd been over all the details about the apartment—Bella thought it'd be best for our daughter if I moved back in there since it was a place that was familiar and comfortable. I had to admit that I was shocked at how much things hadn't changed in all the time I was gone.

The couch was the same, even the dishes were unchanged—everything, really. There were some new pictures of my family members hanging in the hall and most of my clothes were removed from the closet, but the only differences I could discern were directly related to Gracie. Her highchair stood in the kitchen and bright, colorful magnets littered the refrigerator and dishwasher. Her room was what I supposed every little girl's dream would be, complete with a bed shaped like Cinderella's carriage and a bookcase shaped like a castle. My old office had been converted into an art studio. Thinking about my daughter enjoying painting and drawing brought an easy smile to my lips.

Reaching out and grabbing Bella's hand seemed so natural. She gasped slightly but didn't pull away. My shoulders tensed when she told me she wanted to talk about her and James.

I didn't want to hear it, but if that's what needed to happen in order for me to tell her that I wanted to figure shit out, I'd let her say what she had to and get through the conversation.

"Edward, I just need you to understand that I didn't even start, uh, dat—I mean…" She stopped, looking at me for guidance.

"Ba—Bella, you really don't need to explain this shit to me. Really. How about you tell me more about our daughter? When did you find out? How did…I just don't understand."

"I didn't know I was pregnant until almost three months after you—" She trailed off, tears brimming in her eyes. I felt a tug at my heart. She took a deep breath and continued. "I didn't even notice that I was, you know, late. I figured it was all the stress. Your mom actually came right out and asked me. I shrugged it off, but stopped on the way home to buy a test." She stopped, her expressions contorting as she remembered.

Watching her, I was mesmerized as her lips curved into a beautiful smile. She was radiant, truly the prettiest thing I'd ever seen as she began to speak again.

"It was a miracle. She's beautiful—she looks just like you. You just cannot understand what it was like for me, well, really, what it was like for all of us. Emma-Grace was what held us all together." She paused, squeezing my hand. "James and I— He waited for me. He helped me, first just by taking care of all the paperwork you had set up and making sure I was taking care of myself. Then, after Gracie was born…"

"He wanted to see her, to keep taking care of you." Thoughts of him coming by with flowers and baby stuff infuriated me. Who the fuck does he think he is? I mean, I knew I'd asked him to take care of everything, but that fucker knew what I meant: money, paperwork, security. Not trying to 'butter her up' and move in on my girl when she was all vulnerable and shit. Who does that?

"Yeah. We were just frien—we didn't… Yeah, he just loved Gracie right from the start. I let him. I felt so bad for your family, Edward. Even though I knew they'd never say I was burdening them, I felt like I was. I needed to be independent. I had to be. And he loves her, so much, and he's g-good to me."

Pulling my hand away from hers, I ran my hand through my hair and sighed. "I told you, I really don't need you to explain this to me. I'm not mad at you, okay? I just—I don't want to talk about it right now. It's too new."

An uncomfortable silence pressed down on us. It'd never been like this before; we'd always been able to just talk—about whatever. My heart was weighed down, and I didn't want to keep sitting there, pretending like everything was just fine and dandy anymore. I pulled at my hair in frustration. Though I didn't ask her what her plans were, she had made it perfectly clear that she had no intention of leaving James.

"Can we play a game, to maybe get to know each other again?" She paused. "Uh, twenty questions?" She looked up at me with an anxious expression on her face, not like she really wanted to play this stupid fucking game, but that she wanted a way to talk to me without limits. We'd never needed that before.

"Sure, Bella. Anything you want. Just like always."

"Um okay. So I'll go fi-first?" she stammered out while I just looked at her, my intense gaze never wavering. "Your favorite, um, your favorite color?"

"Really? It hasn't changed. Why ask questions you already know the answer to if you're trying to 'get to know me' again?" I made air quotes to let her to know how stupid I thought this actually was.

"You're right, I'm sorry. Um, did you like your job in Alaska?"

"Yes. Is it my turn now?" My anger, which had been simmering beneath the surface for days, had reached its boiling point. I was done with the safe question and answer time—I wanted to get to the heart of it.

"Yes, of course."

"Did you fuck him in this apartment—maybe even on this couch?"

"What?" she gasped as her hand flew to the base of her throat. "No! Of course not. I—"

Cutting her off, I continued, "Why? Why didn't you? You married him." It wasn't a question; it was a statement.

"I couldn't… It was forever before I would even kiss him."

Did she think that made it any better? "Forever, huh? Seems like we have different versions of what that means. So, he's the only one then?"

"No— I mean yes. But you're the only…" she murmured before stopping herself from saying anymore. She shook her head and continued, her voice barely a whisper, "How many people did you— did you m— were you with in Alaska?"

Pure unadulterated rage flew through my veins. She was going there? Fine, we would do this. "None. You haunted me." I took in her sorrowful expression before firing out my next question. "Did you fuck him in my car?"

"What? What d'you…? How could you even ask me that?"

"How could you ask me to play this game with you, Bella? I'm almost thirty years old and sitting here in the apartment that I used to live in with you, and you want to play a game in order to ask me questions?" Angry now, I couldn't even look at her—I turned my attention to the piano in the corner. "Seriously? You didn't even pull that shit when we were in high school. Though, I wouldn't be opposed to playing strip twister with you again, if you're interested in games."

Her muffled sobs broke me from my tirade, ending my spiteful rampage. I'd never dealt well with her tears; they were something that I never liked to see, that I'd always sought to stem at the first sight. My shoulders slumped as I glanced over to her. Her delicate fingers were wiping away tears and my anger fizzled at the sight.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I just don't know why you'd want to have this discussion. I sure as fuck don't. I don't want to know about you with anyone else. Ever. Please, it's too hard."

"I don't—" she paused, shaking her head. I had never wanted to read her mind any other time before as much as I did right then. What is she thinking? She didn't what? Didn't want me? Didn't want to be with him?

Not wanting her to think that I was doing this shit on purpose—hurting her, I tried to think of something to explain the way I was feeling. "Do you remember when we were fourteen years old and you got pissed at me because Lauren Mallory was wearing my jacket?" I looked at her, waiting for confirmation.

She looked at me, confused. "Yeah, your letterman jacket with your name on the back?"

"I left it behind in one of my classes and she picked it up. Instead of returning it or giving it to you, she told everyone that I asked her to wear it. You refused to speak to me the whole day. I didn't even know what happened until Emmett went ballistic because he heard we broke up."

"I remember. That's when you got suspended for fighting with Ben Cheney. Your parents had to come and pick you up from the principal's office and pay for his glasses." She sniffled, a hint of humor in her voice.

"I remember being so mad that you were pissed at me, that you could even think I would do something like that. If you thought I was capable of something so stupid, I was gonna show you. That's why I kissed Angela in the hall that day. When Ben saw it, he tried to beat the crap out of me."

"While this is a fun walk down memory lane," she muttered sarcastically. "I don't think I quite understand what this has to do with anything."

"I just need you to understand this. Bella, I felt like shi—I felt horrible that I had done that to you. It was wrong of me to kiss someone else just because you hurt me. I wanted to hurt you, too, but after I did it I felt awful."

"No. You felt awful because Ben asked me to the dance to get back at you, and I said 'yes.' You couldn't stand the thought of someone else taking me, even though you couldn't ..."

"That's not true. I told you I understood why you said you'd go with him. I was crushed, baby, but I wanted you to be happy because I had fucked everything up so royally by kissing that girl. This isn't like that; I'm not trying to hurt you now. I just…don't know how not to. It's killing me, not being able to touch you or…" I trailed off, not knowing how to continue. "Do you know what I mean, Bella?"

Nodding her head minutely, she shifted closer to me as I reached out and pushed an errant strand of hair behind her ear. I rubbed the pad of my thumb across her beautiful lip.

"I never wanted to kiss anyone but you. I never wanted to be with anyone but you. I knew it when I was fourteen years old. Before then, even—I've always known it."

She leaned closer to me, and holy fuck I wanted to kiss her so bad. In a deep recess of my mind, I realized she was married, but the less noble side of me didn't care. She was mine, had always been mine. We were attracted to each other in a purely intense way. Not a day had gone by between us where I hadn't wanted to touch her in some way. Even now, when I was upset beyond belief that she had moved on so quickly, though deep down I realized that she had needed to, I knew that I'd never want anyone the way I wanted her.

Our eyes locked, breaths slowing as we stared at each other. I was intensely aware of her nearness to me, to the warmth radiating off of her leg next to mine. I shifted, drawn to touch her, letting my leg rest against hers fully. Just as I tilted my head down, she jumped up and started pacing in front of me.

What the fuck just happened?

She shook her head at me as she fidgeted with her hands and shifted uncomfortably. "Edward, I—"

"Wait. Please let me finish. I need you to understand this. I get why you had to move on—you thought I was gone. I want you to be happy, I really do. I bet you're a great mom, I always knew that you would be. I just, I always thought…"

"Edward."

Her lips pressed against mine, warm and sweet, effectively silencing me and making everything stop. Time, the noises filtering through the open windows, all of my incessant worrying—they meant nothing. She was standing over me, hands pressed onto the couch on either side of my head.

"Edward, please," she whispered.

Unsure of what I was thinking, I reached out my hand and circled my fingertips around her mouth, gently tracing over her lips, back and forth. The atmosphere in the room shifted back to the earlier intensity as my other hand found purchase on her hip. I slid the back of my fingers along the skin that was exposed between her top and her jeans, reveling in the silkiness of her skin. Leaning up to meet her lips, I simultaneously pulled her down into my lap and wrapped my hand around her neck. Her soft, thick hair felt like a lifeline, anchoring me to this moment.

We both groaned the second our mouths opened to each other, her tongue darting out and tangling with mine. I stopped stroking her hip and yanked her to me, pressing our bodies close together. She was straddling me, rolling her hips and just fucking grinding down on me—hard. My hips were involuntarily thrusting up to meet her as she shifted and moaned into my mouth.

She was breathing so hard, almost desperate, as our lips and tongues met again and again. Her hands shifted, moving from the back of the couch to my shoulders and then my chest. Grabbing a fistful of my shirt, she used her grip on it to push and pull her hips faster into mine.

It was all so familiar—her taste, her smell, the way her long hair fell in thick curtains around us and closed us off from the outside world. Her tiny body pressed into mine as she hovered over me, her neck at the perfect height for me to lick and suck and taste... I bit down gently on the soft skin behind her ear; her whimpered response reverberating through the space around us drove me crazy.

"Bella?" I asked, my voice low and gravelly, sounding almost foreign as she started undoing the buttons of my shirt, sending pinpricks of shocking warmth to my skin each time her fingers brushed against me. I needed her to tell me—to let me know that she wanted this, wanted me. As she pulled the shirt from me, logic flew out the window and desire took hold. I wanted her so fucking bad.

We were lips and teeth and just not close enough and shifting up and down and throbbing and holy fuck, Bella, you have to stop this or I am going to lose it right-the-fuck now.

I bit down as gently as I could on her earlobe, the fucking moaning she was cranking out not helping me keep it together at all. Everything was just unreal—and so fucking good. My dick was throbbing as she raked her hands through my hair, and I pulled her to me faster, needing her closer. When she pulled my head back to put her mouth on my throat, I almost came unglued as I noticed a light sheen of sweat covering her body. I wanted to taste her. Fuck.

Letting my hands wander underneath the hem of her shirt, I slipped my fingers beneath the waistband of her jeans. The feel of her satin covered ass spurred me on, daring me to grasp the flesh underneath. The sounds—whispered breaths and fabric rustling—were making me fucking crazy. Her moans, her scent, her body moving over mine, the way our bodies were connecting…I didn't think I could stop if I tried. Nor did I want to.

"God, Edward."

Hearing my name from this girl in that voice ignited a primal urge in me. Heat was emanating from her and I couldn't stop myself. Every muscle in my body was tensing and my cock was fucking aching as our breathing grew louder. Growling into her neck and placing wet, open-mouthed kisses up the column of her throat, I grabbed her ass and pulled her closer, shifting her over me again and again. Fuck.

"Jesus Christ, I want you," I whispered into her skin as she writhed above me and dug her nails deeper into my scalp. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself before I came in my pants like a fourteen year old. The air smelled like berries and Bella and lust, reminding me of how many times we had been like this. As I leaned forward and wrapped my lips around her pebbled nipple through the fabric of her shirt, she threw her head back and let out a sexy fucking moan. I grinned, knowing I hadn't forgotten all of the spots on her body that drove her fucking insane.

Running my hand from the back of her head, along her throat, and down the valley between her perfect tits, I dipped my head to suck on her collarbone. Her skin tasted just like I remembered. Her mouth was just like I remembered. Everything I was experiencing—her heat, her mouth, the sounds she was making, the way her hair felt on my bare arm—all of it felt exhilaratingly new yet recognizable at the same time. Moving her over my body was so right, so habitual. We'd done this a million times—on my parents couch or in the back of my fucking car, on her dad's recliner, just everywhere. We belonged together, just like this.

More, I need more.

Shifting her fluidly over me with a new-found desperation, I watched with fascination as she started trembling. As she drug her nails down the back of my neck and bit her perfect lip, I groaned and increased my pace. Her deep, shuddering breaths told me she was close; I knew her body better than I knew my own, still. I craved feeling the connection that we had always had at that moment, too. Not just emotionally, but physically. I needed her to know that it was her, always her.

"Fuck, baby, please…" I didn't know what I was asking. Our motions were becoming more frenzied as we sought more friction. Her brow furrowed for a second, her grip tightening on me as she moved faster and faster. So close. I need more.

I gripped onto her tighter as our movements become more desperate, more erratic. She leaned forward and sucked on my Adam's apple at the same moment I threw my head back. She always knew that shit got to me. Fuck.

"Just, God, Edward, just don't…it's never been like this. Never. Oh, God… Only you. Always only with you."

That's right, baby, only with me.

Wait. What?

No. Fuck no.

Like a bucket of ice water, her words stopped me completely. Realization flooded my mind: the apartment, the unwillingness to let go but still moving on in spite of it. The questions that had been plaguing me every second of the past few days were answered, and I was sickened by my sudden clarity of the situation.

I would never forget the look on her face when I pushed her off of me, onto the couch.

We aren't fucking doing this.

*BPOV*

One moment, I was panting and moaning and safe and so close in Edward's arms. And it was perfect, and us, and what I'd been missing for too many years. The next, I was cold and alone on the couch.

Our bodies moving together as desire ran like fire through my veins, the way his mouth felt on me, his reverent whispers— He had been everything I had ever wanted, and he was right there wanting me, too. It was too much and not enough at the same time.

Then he pushed me away and bolted into the kitchen. I sat for a few moments, wondering if I should go after him but afraid of what he would say when our eyes met again.

He doesn't want me.

As much as I knew I shouldn't want him, that what we were doing—no matter how right it felt—was wrong, I couldn't help but feel a pang of despondency at the prospect of his rejection. I didn't know what to do with myself anymore.

The sound of glass shattering followed by his low, "Goddamn it!" broke through my thoughts. Startled, I jumped up and made my way anxiously into the kitchen.

He was hunched over the sink, shaking his head back and forth.

"Edward?" I whispered tentatively.

He chuckled slightly, cold. "Bella, please just … give me a minute, okay? Just go in the other room and don't say anything to me. I need—just, please." His voice echoed out harshly and sterile in the kitchen that held so many warm, happy memories for us.

"Edward…" I knew I needed to apologize. He'd have to let me. "Please. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have put you in that position. I'm just so confused and… I love you. I'll never stop. I just don't know what to do."

With his back still turned, he held his hand up, gesturing for me to stop. Just as I was opening my mouth to continue, he threw another glass in the sink, causing shards of glass to fly up haphazardly. "Edward! Stop—"

He turned to face me, nostrils flared and fire blazing in his eyes. He ran his hand through his hair in aggravation. Aggravation toward me. The menacing expression on his face was too much—I couldn't catch my breath.

"No, Bella, you fucking stop this."

"What?" I didn't understand. Anxiously tangling my fingers together in front of me, I looked down at the floor, unable to meet his stare. He had never spoken to me this way, and I was both shocked and slightly scared of the anger that radiated from him.

"I swear to God, if something had really happened to me, like you thought it had, I would want you to move on…to be happy." He paused, clenching his jaw before he continued. "What you've done is not moving on. You go visit my apartment every month, you have lunch with my sister every week, and you talk to my mother on the phone every fucking day."

"Please. Don't do this," I begged.

"No. You have my daughter and fix your hair the way that I always liked it, and wear the same clothes that I loved to see you in."

He crossed the room, leaning against the granite. As if he were drawing strength from the counter-top, his demeanor was hard, cold and unemotional. Tears sprang to my eyes at the unfeeling, distant look in his eyes. "You didn't move on with your life, you just…replaced me. With that stupid fuck James. And now I'm home and you want it to go back to the way it was, but you aren't willing to do anything about it. You tell me that you never wanted him, not really. That you thought about me every day, that it's only me that makes you…" He trailed off, pure fury emanating from him. "You love me? What do you want me to say to that? How do you think that makes me feel? You've got a helluva way of showing it."

I felt it when I looked up and caught his gaze. This was it. He was leaving me, voluntarily this time.

"You replaced me. You didn't move on. You tried to remake our life with someone else. And I…" He shook his head and looked down at the floor. He drew a deep breath, like he was steeling himself for the words that were about to come.

I knew I wouldn't survive what he was about to say. Unlike him, I couldn't brace myself for the words I sensed coming. I wanted to assure him that it didn't have to be this way, but I couldn't.

His looked up at me, and I was trapped in his steely emerald gaze, unable to escape, unable to breathe.

My world came crashing down as he severed my heart in two.

"I think it is time for you to leave. Go home, Bella, just... Go home to your husband."