AN: If you haven't read my story Eight Nights of Delights, this story may not make a ton of sense. I highly recommend you read the Eight Nights of Delights first (at least the first two chapters, but all the stories have hints to this story).

Huge thanks to Fanpiremama for beta-ing. SM owns the characters I circumcised them, and converted their names. I tend to play up some stereotypes; it is all meant in good fun. If you are offended, let me know, or just hit the x button on your browser window.

Chapter 1: Schmear vs. Cream Cheese

EPOV

Present day…

My parents were in town for graduation and of course my mom was helping me pack up my room. I was moving to New York.

"Edward, what do you want me to do with this box?" Mom asked.

I quickly glanced at the unopened box but instantly knew the contents – my heart. Three years ago, I stupidly walked away from my everything. Since that day, I had realized how wrong I had been, but first she stopped taking my calls, didn't respond to my emails, and then she changed her number. Her parents claimed they passed on my messages, but she never responded. The Swansteins retired and moved to Arizona last year and so I only knew that Bella was teaching in New York City.

I should have kept in better touch with my high school friends. Jasper Whitlosky had proposed to his long-time girlfriend, Alice Brandonberg, or so said the synagogue's newsletter. According to Facebook, Emmett McCarty was in a relationship with Rosalie Hayles. All the couples from our youth group had miraculously survived but us, the presidents, the leaders.

"This get's packed, as well," I said, indicating the box of Bella stuff. I wasn't ready to throw it out. I was hoping I could track her down when I got to New York. My parents nodded, and Mom grabbed an empty box and Dad's hand to go pack up the contents of my bathroom.

Yes, my parents were packing up my bathroom. It's not like I had anything to hide. Zayin, my penis hated me. He only worked when I thought about Bella. Other chicks, other tits, even porn didn't work on Zayin.

Oh, I tried. I even dated this one girl during my second year of law school. She was the anti-Bella – blonde, tall, not Jewish, from a very old family in Rhode Island. We went for a few weeks; we even had sex, but she just laid there and let me do all the work. If that wasn't bad enough, she gave me a blow job, if you could call it that – she was all teeth! I was right about one thing; she was absolutely nothing like Bella.

After my experience of having sex with her, Zayin was traumatized. He wouldn't perform unless I thought of Bella. Yup, he only had eyes, or eye for her. So, it was me and my right hand for law school and a very raw, flaccid Zayin. If you looked carefully, you could tell that my right arm was bigger than my left.

As if law school wasn't miserable enough, I found a way to be even more miserable through my three year education. Sure, I had friends and all, but part of me was missing. When recruiters from the big law firms came, I only even considered the ones that were in the Big Apple, because that is where she lived. Hence, the big move.

The plan was to move up to New York, secure a small studio apartment, study for the bar exam and look for Bella. Now, it wasn't that I didn't take the bar exam seriously, but I was told I didn't need to get serious until after the Fourth of July. That left me almost two whole months to track her down. In this day and age of social media, she couldn't hide forever.

"Carlisle, I know he is my son, but he was a schmuck to that girl. You don't walk away from love. You don't," Mom whispered loudly from the bathroom.

"Ma, I can hear you," I shouted back.

Geez, even my own mother thinks I'm a schmuck. I am. I know I am, but does she have to point it out – all the time? Menopause had not been kind to my mother in the past five years. She'd gone from the relaxed, put-together mother I grew up with, to an overbearing, loudmouth, harpy practically overnight. We kept hoping that she'd return to normal but so far, she hadn't.

As thankful as I was to have my parents help me pack, and drive the U-Haul up to New York from Washington, DC, the tension headache that came from being around Mom had started to grow. I tried to drown her out with my iPod.

I knew I could pass the bar, I knew New York City held possibilities, and I knew that this schmuck was going to fix things.

BPOV

You know how you say things and you mean them, but maybe your tone was too harsh? That's what happened that night with Edward. For months, I replayed that night in my head. Thinking if only I had… but I hadn't. It took almost a year of therapy to even stop having nightmares of him walking away from me. That's what hurt the most – he walked away from me.

At first, he called, and I wanted to pick up the phone, but my friends said he'd come begging back and not do this over the phone. He didn't come. Eventually the calls stopped and a few months later, so did the emails. For awhile, I thought I could go to Washington, DC and try to talk to him, get back on our plan, but as days turned to weeks, and week turned to months, life got in the way. I felt paralyzed and couldn't do it. Instead Rosalie and Alice dragged me to New York City with them. I had already missed the start of the school year in DC, but quickly found a position in New York City Public Schools. It wasn't a great school, but it was a job. Those 200 or so miles between New York and Washington, DC may have well have been 2000 miles.

Eventually, I moved on with my life, but I didn't forget him. I still used the stupid Prada key ring he had bought me for Hanukkah our sophomore year of school. Most of the other things I had from our relationship were hidden away, but that stupid gift, I used. Edward always did hold the key to my heart.

I had hoped I would meet someone one day, I even tried to date. Edward Cullenman would be my one who got away and while I wasn't pleased with the way things had turned out, I didn't do much to change the situation. I could have looked him up, kept tabs on him. Heck, I could have told my parents to talk to his parents, but I didn't. Looking back, all the reasons that had once rationalized my actions, no longer made sense in my head anymore.

School was finally out. It was my last year of teaching. I was going back to grad school in the fall to get my Master's in Business. I wanted to one day run a non-profit organization and being a teacher, wasn't going to cut it. After eating ramen noodles four times a week, for a few months, I had enough in savings to not have to work all summer. My goal was to pretend I was one of those trust-fund kids, the ones who sat in cafes and sipped coffee in the middle of the day while all of us little people worked.

No café for me today, I wanted a giant, New York bagel, overstuffed with cream cheese. I threw on my flip flops, and my favorite baseball cap, which was his and hobbled down the steps of my apartment building. Rosalie and I shared a one –bedroom that we had converted into two by erecting a wall. I pretty much lived in a glorified walk-in closet, but Rosalie only made me pay a-third of the rent.

The bagel place was empty, despite being the weekend. New York, with the exception of Times Square and Midtown, cleared out on weekends in the summertime. Everyone was in the country, the Hamptons, or Down the Shore. Everyone, but me. I might have been able to afford not to work all summer, but travelling was not in my budget.

"Nice hat. Did you go there or do you just wear the hat?" the guy behind the counter asked.

No one ever asked me about it. I had taken it from Edward years ago. "No, I didn't go to Harvard," I replied. I just like the hat, but I could only get away with wearing it when Rosalie was away.

" I'll have an everything bagel with chive shmear." Yeah, I called it shmear now not cream cheese like the rest of the country.

It's not like I was going to be kissing anyone. Sure, Rosalie and Alice had put me on that Jewish dating site. You know the one with ads in Times Square, where every Jewish mother goes to hock her child so that they could meet a nice Jewish boy or girl and give them Jewish grandbabies.

I went out a few times, but not with anyone who I even remotely wanted to even practice making grandbabies for my parents with. Yuck.

Sure, I had gone through a period, albeit brief, where I had slutted myself up a bit after I got over the initial shock of being dumped by Edward Cullenman, but I could never do it. I mean I tried. Oh had I tried. I dated every guy who was the opposite of Edward. There was Alistair, who was dancing with the idea of being a Catholic priest, Muhammad, he was Muslim and didn't believe in the State of Israel. Yeah, that didn't last long. Then there was Peter, the musician and anarchist. They weren't him, which was the initial appeal, but that was also why they never progressed passed a second date.

Some days, when I was feeling overly pessimistic, I figured I would end up an old maid or perhaps in a few years I could visit a sperm bank and give my parents grandchildren with a frozen pop. Sometimes, when Rosalie was over at Emmett's, I would turn on Fox News and leave it playing on the background while I graded papers. It was like he was there, but then no one was yelling at Bill O'Reilly. I missed him yelling at Bill O'Reilly, but not really having to watch Bill O'Reilly every night; he was a pinhead.

Hating to eat alone, I pulled out my dog-eared copy Deborah, Golda and Me, pulled my hat down and continued to eat my bagel.

I didn't look up when the bells on the door jingled, nor did I look up when I heard a faintly familiar voice order the exact same thing I had ordered. I did look up when the guy behind the counter told the customer they were out of everything bagels.

"Awh, shit," the customer cried, slamming their fists on the counter.

That made me look up. I knew that ass. I could pick that ass out of a line up. I had bitten that ass. I knew that ass. My eyes traveled further up, stopping at the hair peeking out from under a baseball cap. I knew that hair; that distinct hair color. Oh yes, those curtains matched the drapes. With the identity confirmed, I went into panic mode. Leaving would be too conspicuous, instead I started riffling through my bag trying to find my giant sunglasses.

Of course, being the klutz that I am, I knocked the chair next to me over when I reached for my bag and the commotion caused him to turn my way.

EPOV

A month of living in New York and I knew she lived in this neighborhood. It wasn't as if I was stalking her, but I did spend an inordinate amount of time in the area, hoping to bump into her. I had another three weeks until the Fourth of July, and then my activities would be suspended while I focused on the New York State Bar Exam.

I had my books in my messenger bag and had planned to read in the park, until it got too hot, but first I was craving a decent bagel. The stories about New York bagels are true. They are bigger than other bagels. It reminded me of my penis theory: the more a group of people is oppressed, the larger the size of the penises of those people. Not that New York was oppressed; rumor was the water is what made the bagels bigger.

"Everything bagel with chive crème cheese, please," I asked the dude behind the counter.

"Just sold the last everything bagel of the day," the dude said.

"Awwh, shit," I cried, banging my fist against the counter. I thought about it for a few moments. "I guess I'll have poppy seed bagel instead. Suddenly, I heard a commotion behind me and I turned around and caught her eye.

Our eyes locked for what seemed to be eternity, but it was only long enough for my bagel to be ready. I paid the guy, barely capable of focusing on the bills I laid on the counter. She picked up the chair as soon as I had turned my eyes away, even if it was for a few moments.

With my food in hand, I walked toward her. My love. "Bella?" I asked. It was more of a question, permission to sit down, or for her to acknowledge me, anything.

She was pretending to read her Jewish feminist book, she had read that book a million times. "Hi," she replied softly, placing her book down on the table.

"I can't believe it's you. How are you doing? Do you mind?" I asked, grabbing the chair that had fallen and sat down.

She didn't respond.

I sat and took her in. She was doing the same. I wonder if the guy behind the counter would mind if I threw her down on this table and let me have my way with her?

Baruch Ha-Shem. She was even more beautiful than I remembered. There was something different about her eyes that I didn't recall from our undergrad days. Pain. Sorrow. I recognized it when I looked at myself in the mirror.

Our bagels remained on the table untouched.

"What are you doing here?" she asked breaking the silence.

"Studying for the bar exam. Can you believe it? I survived law school. I've got a job at some big firm." I didn't want to be that asshole who named dropped. Most firms in New York sounded something like Jew, Jew, and Irishman or Irishman, Irishman, and Jew or some variation on ethnicity usually with the inevitable one partner who was Jewish.

She didn't respond. This was awkward. She began to rub her collarbone and move her fingers over the top of her breasts. Zayin twitched. Fuck. I had forgotten the effect she had on him. Hello, old friend, nice of you to decide to work, now. There is nothing like being a 22 year-old and developing a psychologically-induced erectile dysfunction disorder because only your ex-girlfriend could turn you on. Three years later, I was still dealing with Zayin not cooperating.

"So, what have you been up to?" I asked. I knew bits and pieces.

"What's it to you?" she spat, her entire body tensing up. "You walked away. You never came back. I don't even know what I am doing sitting here talking to you." Bella went to gather her things, but I stopped her with my hand.

"I was a schmuck. I know I don't deserve it, but please let me explain. You didn't let me try to explain – I tried, but you refused to listen to me."

She sat back down, her lips were quivering. I wanted to kiss them to make them stop.

"I'm listening now."

"I called and emailed you. You never responded."

"But Edward, you never came back. Anyone can make a phone call, you couldn't take a few minutes and try to talk to me in person?"

"I tried a few times, you weren't home and then I had to pack up for Georgetown and I was so torn. I almost didn't go. I was so stupid and stubborn. I'm so sorry. Please I'll do anything for you to forgive me. Anything – I only want to talk for one afternoon and after that, if you don't want me around I promise, I'll leave you alone. A few hours is all I ask, to apologize."

"Wow, when I woke up this morning I never thought the day would take this type of turn of events. I've missed you, every second we were apart. You were my best friend. You were my everything and you just ended things because you didn't get your way at the exact moment you wanted to. As much as my heart has missed you, I can't forgive you, though."

Oh? My heart, which for a brief moment of being back in Bella's presence had begun to fill again, quickly deflated. It hurt. I quickly flexed my fingers in my left hand – they weren't tingling – good, not a heart attack. It hurt though, it ached.

"So, you're staying in New York?" she asked. I was confused with her line of questioning.

"Yes, this is where I have decided to make my home," I responded.

"Why here? Of all the cities in America, why'd you come here?"

"You. I knew time wouldn't heal all wounds, but I had to find you, beg for your forgiveness, find some closure if that was…"

"You want closure?" she asked.

"I…I…I just had to see you again. Even if you hate me and can't forgive me, ever. I just had to see."

"You left me. You broke me and now you want closure? You want forgiveness?"

I nodded.

She sat there, biting her lip as she thought. I could see her mind trying to figure out my logic. I had to actively think about not reaching across the table to touch her.

I picked at my bagel. She picked at hers. I slurped my orange juice.

Finally, Bella looked up at me. "I can't forgive you."

I nodded my head, resigned at the worst possible outcome of our encounter. "I deserve that. I'll leave you alone."

She shook her head looking frustrated. "No! That's not it. What I meant to say is I can't just forgive you for walking away from me three years ago, but I can see if I like the person you are now. " Her fingers grazed over my hand that was resting on the table, begging me not to walk away again.

"You'd give me a chance?" I rubbed my thumb over her tiny fingers. They were cold. Bella always had horrible circulation.

"I don't know, but I couldn't live with myself if I didn't at least give you a chance."

I wanted to ask her what she was doing for the next fifty years, but I thought that might be too presumptuous.

"You have plans for the rest of the day?" I asked, throwing studying by the wayside.

"I've got nothing, I'm all yours." Bella shrugged.

Not yet, but if I had my way, she would be again.

AN: More to come. I will try to update as often as I can.

Zayin = Penis in Hebrew