Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Bella, Alice and Edward.

Edward

I was sitting in Sister Charlotte's room, not really paying attention to what was going on. When I got my turn, I started explaining them about organizing the concert. Emmett was a fine person, but sometimes he could be a bit shallow. Naturally he wouldn't be able to fathom as to what I was talking about.

But then she spoke up. Bella Swan.

Without having a choice, I looked at her.

She looked exactly like she did last week. Her dark-brown hair tumbled down on her square shoulders; grey eyes wide and her skin pale.

Yet, something was different this time. Today, sitting in that dreary atmosphere, with the sun beating down on us mercilessly, when I looked at Bella Swan, I saw her for who she was. I didn't see black curls or a pair of hazel eyes like I've been seeing every time I looked at a woman since the last four years.

All I saw was a girl, plain as she was, yet special in her own way, looking back at me – without any question, curiosity or pity. She just looked. Like she was trying to figure out something, and not being able to do that was bothering her immensely.

She was still in her work clothes – a silk blouse and a conservative cream-coloured skirt, now looking a little wrinkled and her hair held up in a ponytail, with a few strands hanging out. She was not, seemingly wearing any make-up, as far as my male eyes could tell. Even if she was, she kept it to a minimum level.

These tiny details surprised me. As far as I knew, women always looked like they are fresh out of shooting a commercial. They always looked so polished.

But this particular girl (she didn't look old enough to be called a woman) looking all rumpled and with beads of perspiration on her forehead – seemed so normal. It was so real.

While I was still gaping at her, she reached down and smoothed her skirt. This movement caused me to notice her hands. They were so tiny and frail and…

What the hell was I doing? This was the second time I had been gawking at this unknown person. I hastily looked back at the wall in front of me.

I didn't look back at Bella Swan throughout the rest of the meeting.

After I'd explained the little facts as to how the concert will be arranged, Sister Charlotte then said, "You misunderstood me Mr. Cullen. What I meant was, are you going to perform or not? I remember it being clearly stated in your resume that you are a trained violinist."

And all the memories I've successfully suppressed started coming back, one after another.

It was the summer of 2004, I had just turned 25. I had just finished my day's work, when I passed the shop selling musical instruments. Like always, I stopped my Vanquish on the opposite side of the road, looked at the shiny little violin hanging at the window for display. Its dark mahogany exterior reflected back the sunlight falling on it. The neck was probably made of maple and so was the bridge. The chinrest and neck were the deepest shade of black…

Heaving a sigh, I felt for the tiny turquoise Tiffany's box in my pocket. It didn't matter now that I couldn't purchase that piece of instrument. It didn't matter that I had used up all the money I had saved for that particular violin to buy something even more precious.

I did all this because it was definitely worth it. She was worth it.

I reached the Italian restaurant and swiftly opened the doors and was face to face with the person I was so eager to see.

Angela Weber.

The love of my life.

She was sitting at our reserved table, wearing a simple black sleeveless dress, with a cashmere wrap draped around her petite shoulders. Her amazing black curly hair was let down and even from a distance I could smell its rich fragrance. When she saw me approaching, her face broke in to the widest smile and I knew I was home.

She moved to New Jersey during my final year in high school. The very first day when I spotted her at the local Starbucks', I knew I was in love. After that first day, I went to the coffee shop regularly, hoping to run into her and that's how I got my caffeine addiction. But I didn't mind at all. I had the world's most amazing woman, who by some miraculous stroke of luck felt the same way about me. Since then my life had changed drastically and that night, on our 8 year anniversary, I had decided to ask her to be mine.

When I had taken a seat from across her after placing a chaste kiss on her lips, she smiled mischievously and said "I know you have a no-gifts policy, but this time I broke the rules."

Before I could say anything else, she reached down beside her chair and lifted a long black case and placed it on the table, after shoving away the cutlery and glasses.

I couldn't hide the shock on my face as I reached forward and lifted the lid.

Inside was laid an exquisite violin, complete with an ebony bridge and neck.

I looked up at her with, unable to form any word and reached towards my pocket. Covering the box with my hand, I placed it right on top of the violin case. Then, after meeting her gaze, I saw my entire future planned out for me and I knew that this was what I was looking for. This is what I wanted.

I whispered after removing my hand, 'Will you marry me?"

"Mr. Cullen? Are you listening? Do you agree to play for the concert?"

I had absolutely no idea how to reply to her. How could I explain to her as to why I didn't play anymore? Would she understand? Would anyone ever understand how much it hurt when I placed that violin on my shoulder and I would still hear her laughter echoing in my mind?

"I am sorry Sister. I don't play the violin anymore. I haven't touched one in four years hence I have been completely out of practice," I replied, praying that she would not insist any further.

Sister Charlotte looked at me for a long moment with narrowed eyes. Sometimes I had the feeling that she could read people's minds, but today I shrugged it off as a ridiculous idea.

"As you wish Mr. Cullen," and she returned to go through a random file she had picked up earlier.

I muttered a soft "Thank you" and quickly left the room.

A/N. Some little information about Edward's past. I would like to thank bendigo, amayabrooke, becca Cullen95, party-hardie, A-Curr, Chrissy-Cakes and vampsvwolves for putting my story on alerts and for making it a favourite.

To answer vicvic1999's question, in my story I didn't want Bella to be brown-eyed as always. And if you have read the partial draft of 'Midnight Sun' you'll see that at first Edward thought she was plain and ordinary. Then when he realized he was in love with her, he started finding her to be pretty. I guess that's what happens in real life as well – once you fall for a person, even their ordinary features seem so special.

If you liked this chapter, please review. Even if you didn't like it, tell me your reasons for not liking it and also tell me what I can do to make this story better. If you guys don't like it, there'll be no point in continuing with this fan-fiction.