Disclaimer: I own everything but their names.
August 17, 2001 – Santa Cruz, California
"So that's it then," I said, voice as empty as my chest felt.
She didn't answer, didn't say a word. She just stood there, shoulders shaking, pretty cheeks flushed and shining with tears. My own eyes burned as I curled my hands around my jeans, trying to pretend I couldn't still feel the ghost of her wrapped tightly around me.
Anything to keep myself from touching her again.
"You promised." I tried again, strengthening my tone. "You promised to stay."
And still, nothing.
I deserved more than nothing.
Reaching down, I tucked myself in completely and zipped my jeans before moving toward the door. I pulled it open roughly. There was no point in trying if she wasn't going to react. If she couldn't even talk to me. After all the confusion and the promises and—
"I should have known better than to get involved with—" I started, abruptly stopping myself before I said too much.
It wasn't her fault we had become caught up in such a mess. It was mine. With my kid drama and my ex-wife shit and my brother who couldn't control himself… I should have kept my promise to myself.
I should have stayed the fuck away from her. But I didn't.
She walked past me without so much as a glance. Without a touch, or even a simple goodbye falling from her lips.
The weight of the old wood door beneath my fingers was rough – hard and unyielding – as I held it. Tighter. Tighter. As tight as I could. Trying to keep from touching her; always fucking trying.
The door to her father's car shut softly and the engine came to life. My fingers tried to dig deeper. I could still taste her on my lips.
And then she was gone.
The front door closed loudly as my hand came back, landing against it with a crack.
I didn't move from my spot behind the door. My shoulders shook as I breathed deeply and tried to calm down. My forehead rested against the same spot that had caused an ache to build in my knuckles. Repeatedly, I shook my hand around at my side, wincing at the pain as I played the last twenty minutes back over and over in my head.
"I'm leaving."
"I'm leaving."
"I'm leaving."
And I knew after what I had done, the things I had said, she wouldn't be coming back.
What had started as me trying to prove how I felt had turned ugly. I knew what she'd been trying to do, she was volunteering as the martyr. And I just wanted her to know she mattered, because she did. I wanted her to know I was falling – had fallen – in love with her. That she didn't need to go, because we could handle it. We could handle Makenna. We could handle her father. We could handle anything.
If we were together.
It wasn't supposed to end like that. It wasn't supposed to end at all.
I pulled away from the door, eyes wet and knuckles bloody. I had to go find her before it was too late.
She had to know I didn't want this.
She had to know I wanted her with me.
I had to make her see.
I searched for the phone, dialing quickly. He was the last person in the world I wanted to call, but the only one I could. It rang twice before he picked up.
"What the hell do you—" he started to ask, but I cut him off.
"I need your help."
As if sensing the urgency in my voice, he asked, "Is Lisle okay?"
"He broke his arm, but he's fine—"
"What do you mean he broke his arm?"
"He's fine, Jasper. That's not—"
"Then why do you need my help?" he interrupted again.
"It's a long story I don't have time to tell. Could you please just come to the house? I'm asking for you to help me right now. Can we forget that you hate me right now and remember that we're brothers?"
He sighed and in the background, I heard him moving around. "Fine. I'll be there in twenty minutes."
Then the line went dead.
After checking in on Lisle to make sure we hadn't woken him, I kissed his forehead and went to the kitchen. I had to get her back for him, too.
I couldn't even fathom having to face him the next time he asked for her. My heart twisted at the thought.
At the sink, I attempted to clean up my hand while I waited for Jasper. I scrubbed until the blood disappeared, only to resurface again a second later. Anything to keep me busy, because pacing the living room wasn't solving shit.
Hearing Esme's car in my driveway made my breathing a little easier. Jasper didn't knock, he never did. He didn't have to. We might have been fighting, but he was still my brother.
"What's going on?" he asked, finding me with my keys in hand as I stuffed my wallet into the back pocket of my jeans.
"I have to go find Bella."
His fingers curled into a fist at his side and he took a step in my direction. "What did you do this time, Edward?"
"Me?" I asked, holding my hands out in front of me. "I didn't do anything!"
"If that's true, why are you calling me at midnight to rush over here?"
"I just need you to watch Lisle for me and not ask me so many goddamn questions!" I shouted as the last threads of my patience began to wear thin. "I know I'm not your favorite person right now, I know that. Just do this one thing for me without asking any questions, okay?"
He looked taken aback, shocked by my outburst. I didn't care – couldn't care – about hurting his feelings at that particular moment.
I needed to go.
Jasper crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. "Fine. Go."
Without waiting for him to say anything else, I left. The Jeep was cold, engine revving high as I made my way back toward downtown. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. I heard her saying those words again.
"I'm leaving."
My tires squealed as I turned the last corner, the Jeep barely in park before I had hopped out and slammed the door shut behind me. My footsteps were loud on the quiet pavement as I headed for the porch.
The driveway was empty and the house dark.
My bloodied fist on the door sent hollow pounding through to the other side. I knocked again and again. The empty sound too similar to the way I was beginning to feel. Another knock. I leaned in close, cupping my hands around my eyes as I peered through the foggy glass and searched the empty living room, hoping for a glimpse of her.
Maybe I'd beat her home.
Maybe she'd stopped somewhere.
Maybe something had happened…
Oh, god.
I knocked again, louder, louder, louder. Searched the large living room window for a crack in the curtains.
I called her name. Once. Twice. A hundred times.
My body ached. My head throbbed. Defeated, my back slid down her front door as I stared at the empty street. My hands rested flat at my sides as I pulled my knees toward my chest.
Cars passed. Time passed.
The sky began to lighten. I could hear the ocean nearby, the waves swishing and swaying… continuing on as I began to give up. I didn't want to be here. I wanted to be there… with her.
My knocking grew from frantic and often with my fists, to the occasional slam of my head against her door and a murmured version of her name that I knew she'd never hear.
.
.
.
"Son, what the hell are you doing sleeping on my porch?"
My eyes shot open at the voice and I scrambled to stand up, fighting the disorientation that comes between sleep and wake. My entire body throbbed as my heart thumped wildly.
"Sir," I said, my voice thick from sleep and exhaustion. I cleared my throat and looked behind him, hoping she would be there. My chest and stomach knotted when I found nothing. "Sir, I need to find her."
I felt desperate and scattered and I didn't care that I was blowing it. That I was revealing a secret not-so-well kept by being here on his porch and asking for the daughter he didn't know I was in love with.
He just watched me with eyes the same color as his daughters, a hand stuffed deep in his pocket while the other twisted one side of his perfectly-trimmed mustache.
"A little late for that, don't you think?" he asked.
I stood up even straighter. The nervous thumping had stopped and my chest grew tight. "What do you mean?"
He stepped closer. "Look, I don't know what happened last night. Or what's been happening the past couple a' months, but I'm not stupid. I know my daughter well enough to know that something has been happening. And whatever that was isn't going to happen again."
It was hard to look at him, and not just because I was embarrassed for sneaking around with his daughter or for not being man enough to come to him sooner and make it clear how I felt about Bella.
But because she looked so damn much like him.
"Where is she, sir?" I asked. I didn't know what else to do.
"That's none of your concern."
"I just need to—" I had no idea what I was attempting to do. I didn't know anything except that I needed her to be there. I needed to tell her I was sorry. I wanted to go back to sleep only to wake up and find out this was all a dream. "I'm trying to fix this. Please tell me where she is—"
"She doesn't want to see you, son."
"Please… please just tell me how to find her—"
"Enough!" he shouted. "That's enough!" He took a deep breath, pulling his hand from his pocket to peek at his watch. "I've had a long night and I'm too tired to deal with this right now. Her flight left ten minutes ago. You can't fix it, and she's asked that you not be told where she is."
We stood there for several minutes, quietly observing the other until my time ran out.
He walked to the front door and pushed his key into the lock. "It's time for you to get off my porch now."
.
.
.
I wasn't sure how I made it back to my Jeep after that; or back to the house for that matter. Walking in the door, my entire body was drained and my hand still hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. As much as I wanted nothing more than to bury myself in the warmth and comfort of my bed and hide for days – where I was sure it still smelled like her – it wasn't possible.
Which was made clear by the tiny body that rushed toward me almost instantly.
"Daddy!"
His voice knocked me out of my daze and I squatted down, pulling him against my chest for a hug. "Hi, Baby Boy," I murmured, inhaling his familiar smell.
"Where was you, Dada?" he asked against my chest, little fists hugging me right back. I could see Jasper watching us as he leaned against the back of the couch.
"I just had to go take care of some stuff." I pulled back to look at him. "Did you have fun with Uncle Jasper?"
Lisle nodded and his cheeks puffed out. "Yes huh, him's gave me Lucky's for breakfast. But he stolded some 'a my mashmellows!"
My eyebrows lifted and I gasped. "He did? Did you tell him what the punishment was for stealing marshmallows?"
I reached out and squeezed his sides and he giggled. "No tickles me, Dada. He did it!"
"And did'ya get him?" I asked.
"Yes huh." He growled and flexed and I smiled my first real smile in hours as he ran in Jasper's direction.
"Good. We can't let those marshmallow thieves get away," I said, walking over to join them.
Jasper lifted Lisle into his arms. "I signed your cast, too, didn't I bud?"
"Yep!" Lisle held up his cast for me to see Jasper's name, but it wasn't his message my eyes found.
It was hers…
Little Dude, hurry up and heal so we can play! Bella
My eyes squeezed shut and I took a deep breath.
"How'd it go?" Jasper asked.
He set Lisle on the floor, who took off for his pile of toys in the corner, none the wiser to what our conversation was about. I couldn't begin to think about having this conversation with my kid yet.
"She's gone."
He didn't say anything in response at first, he just watched me. His eyes grew softer as the silence stretched, and I was thankful for that moment he wasn't pushing for more. We had a lot of things to talk about; things he needed to know and understand.
"Wanna talk about it?"
"Not yet," I told him honestly.
"I'll stick around for a while. Go get some sleep, you look like shit, Grumpy."
I don't know why you guys had to go and ask for the emo stuff! But, this was what most of you asked for…so it's where my head went first. Next up, maybe we'll get to see some Surfward with his little baby girl… or perhaps a little of making said baby.
This is unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine. Though four kickass chicks did read it for me and tell me it wasn't dumb. Thank you C, J, K, and L.
Thanks for reading!
xx