My texts with Carmen dwindled to every other day, and eventually stretched to a week or more between messages. It wasn't long before I really didn't even notice the loss of her presence in my life. I went to work, came home, and made supper for Isabella and myself. After dinner we tidied up, then I'd fold laundry while watching TV, and, quite often, fall asleep in the recliner. Life may have been mundane but at least my daughter was a part of it.

When Isabella graduated from Woodway High School with top honors, I wept seeing her in her cap and gown. Not only because my own high school graduation was so anticlimactic but because it was 12 years of hand-holding, homework, friendships, and falling outs. Because she was my baby, and I wasn't ready to release her to a world of wolves.

I busied myself with practical matters - packing her belongings and buying necessities for her dorm room. It was all a ruse to keep my mind off the fact my daughter was not only leaving home, she was leaving me. No one, and nothing, prepared me for that.

In the early throngs of fatherhood, I would've sold my soul for just one uninterrupted night of sleep. Back then, the prospect of having my daughter leave home- giving me back a social life- sounded amazing.

That was then.

Years of her life completely intertwined with my own had shaped me into who I was - Edward Cullen, father to Isabella. The new reality as just Edward Cullen was completely foreign to me now.

And with her on the cusp on branching out, how was I supposed to comprehend a daily routine that didn't include her? What would be the point of cooking for one? Who would watch 'The Voice' with me?

In the middle of the night, even more questions robbed me of sleep.

Why didn't Isabella need me like I needed her?

Would she be okay in California? Safe? Happy?

Would she remember to eat her veggies?

Who was going to make her a cup of Chamomile tea when she couldn't sleep at three in the morning?

I'd read all the parenting books. Each told me my job as a parent was to help my child grow into an independent adult, and then send her happily off to make her way in the world. And I think I'd done a hell of a job, all things considered. But where was the instruction manual to prepare me for this stage of her life and mine?

With three days to go before Jake and I would make the long drive with Isabella to California, my daughter and I had a dinner date planned - just the two of us.

It was my last opportunity to give profound fatherly advice before she left. To say wise and important things. Words that would stay with her, a subconscious reminder to always choose integrity over anything else. I tried to jot my thoughts down but I all I did was stare at a blank piece of paper. I was going to have to wing it, which could very well turn into a disaster.

I'd made reservations for us at a posh new restaurant in town. I parked at Bracket's Landing, a short walk to the restaurant. However, with the beach straight ahead, the idea of dinner in a crowded, stuffy restaurant fell by the wayside. I loosened my tie and Isabella pulled her long, sun-bleached hair into a low ponytail and slipped out of her sandals. We grabbed a couple hot dogs and sodas from a street vendor and sat on a bench watching the late summer sun sink into the ocean.

"Look—"

"Dad, I—"

We laughed as we both spoke at the same time. Isabella encouraged me to go first.

"I feel like I'm supposed to give you this... talk before I send you out into the world."

"Uh, Dad, we had this talk. And it'll be just as uncomfortable now as it was then."

I bumped my shoulder against hers. "Not that kind of talk; once was enough. I'm supposed to bestow words of wisdom upon you."

"Bestow what upon me?" Isabella snort-laughed.

"I'm trying to make it sound like I know what I'm talking about, okay?"

"Sorry, go ahead."

"Thank you. This is the first time you're going to be on your own and I've been wracking my brain trying to come up with advice you can take with you. But I've got nothing. My mind's blank."

Isabella placed her hand on my forearm. "What would you tell your 18-year-old self?"

I chuckled. "Not to have sex with some random girl at Tyler Crowley's New Year's Eve party."

"Gee, thanks for ruining my existence."

"Sorry, that slipped out." I smiled at her then took a minute to really think.

"I'd probably tell myself to not be in a rush to grow up." The Lord knows, it happened far too quickly for me and even faster with my daughter.

"Okay, what else?" Isabella probed. I scratched my head.

"I'd learn to trust myself more. I've wasted a lot of time second-guessing. And not just as a parent. I still doubt myself, sometimes daily. But even if I haven't made the best decision, I've lived through my choice and learned from it."

"Do you think me going to USC is the right thing to do?" Isabella asked hesitantly.

"Why do you ask?"

"I dunno. What if I fail? College is so different that high school."

I swallowed the rest of my hot dog and crumpled up my napkin. "Don't be afraid of not succeeding. Be more afraid of not trying, and then living with regret. If you fall, pick yourself up and keep moving forward. Always forward. Don't look back - you're not going that way."

"What if I don't make any friends there?" Her eyes brimmed with tears. I reached for her hand.

"Honey, you've always been able to make friends easily."

She shrugged. "This is different. It's college, you know?"

"There was a point in my life when I can honestly say I was friendless. It was after Ally left, when all my friends were either away or busy with college. I learned the most about being a friend when I was alone. What I mean to say is I value friendships more now because there was a time when I didn't have anyone in my corner. Sometimes the uncomfortable period of transition is necessary to learn and grow."

Beside me, Isabella smiled. "When did you get so smart?"

"When Emmett introduced me to Tumblr and Pinterest." We shared a laugh.

"I love you, Dad." Isabella dropped her head onto my shoulder. Kissing the top of her head, I blinked back tears.

"I love you, too. More than you will even know. And when you think you do, when you have a baby of your own and think your heart may explode from love, sweetheart, you're only touching the tip of the iceberg for how much I care about you." I don't think Isabella could ever know the depth of my love. It was simply immeasurable. Infinity times infinity times infinity.

"Can I ask you one more thing?"

"Of course, baby girl. Anything."

"What about Jake. What if he...if we…." She struggled to find the right words. "What happens if things change between us while I'm gone?"

I didn't want to be the one to tell her that very well could happen; that he may not be her happily ever ever. My index finger tapped my lips thoughtfully. I blew out a breath because she had me stumped.

"Can you give me a sec on that one?"

Isabella quirked her eyebrow at me. "Uh, okay? What are you doing?" She asked when she saw me pulling my phone out of my pocket.

"Consulting Pinterest." I chuckled.

She thought I was joking but I clicked on the app and searched for the answer. I found the perfect quote and read it aloud.

"'You need to forget all the reasons why it won't work out and believe in the one reason why it will.' See? I knew Pinterest wouldn't let me down."

Isabella smiled. "Thank you."

I winked and slipped my phone into my pocket. "No problem."

We sat talked as the sky gave way to varying hues of pink, orange, and purple. Long after the sun disappeared into the horizon, to the point where the sea and sky were the same color of darkness; where each were infinite and you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. Much like my love for Isabella.

...

When the time came to leave for California, it hit me much harder than I ever anticipated. Like a sucker punch to my gut. With Jake and Isabella waiting in the truck, I took a quick look around the apartment to make sure nothing irreplaceable was left behind.

I paused in the doorway of her room. Her bed was stripped down to the mattress, walls nearly bare, one lone teddy bear perched on the bookshelf. I held the door frame to steady myself. Fuck. It was really happening. She was leaving me. I closed the door behind me so I wouldn't have to look at the emptiness when I arrived back home.

The drive, though uneventful, was difficult. It hurt to breathe. The most random memories seeped into my brain. Isabella riding her bike without training wheels for the first time. The feeling of her hand slipping from mine as she walked into her kindergarten class. I remembered when she asked me not to kiss her goodbye in front of her classmates. Each memory was a baby step leading up to this very moment. I still wasn't ready.

Tears randomly blurred my vision as I sped down the highway. At rest stop diners I kept my sunglasses in place to hide my telltale red-rimmed eyes. Jake kept his on as well.

We stopped for the night and got a hotel room. Two single beds meant someone had to sleep on the uncomfortable cot. For the first time since leaving home I smirked, as Isabella and I each climbed between crisp, white sheets leaving Jake to make himself comfy on a cot on the floor.

We lingered over breakfast, none of us in a hurry to get to our final destination. And the closer we got to California the quieter we all became. Isabella stared out the window, silently wiping away her tears. I held her hand, fighting my own tears. I glanced in the back seat where 6'4 Jake had crammed himself between boxes - the contents of Isabella's new life. His sunglasses hid his eyes but I could see the furrow knitted between his brows. This wasn't going to be an easy transition for him, either.

We eventually made it to campus, and it was just as beautiful as I'd imagined, if not more. Bubbles of excitement burst in my belly because although I was going to miss Isabella something fierce, I was secretly excited for her to embrace the opportunity I'd given up.

Our time together was a whirlwind of activities - getting her settled into her dorm, mapping out her classes, and getting to know the campus. We spent another night in a hotel but this time I splurged for Jake and Isabella to have their own room, much to their surprise. I wasn't always an asshole to the guy. Truth be told, I needed time to myself, to shed tears without embarrassment.

Too soon, Jake and I were preparing to head back to Washington. We said our goodbyes to Isabella in the parking lot of her dormitory.

I pulled my girl into a hug so tight I thought she'd protest. She didn't. And when I went to let go she hugged me even tighter.

"I'm going to miss you so much, Daddy."

Daddy.

That did me in. I removed my sunglasses and let the tears flow freely.

"I miss you already, baby girl."

We hugged a while longer but I knew we needed to be on our way if we were going to make the halfway point before rush hour. I nodded in Jake's direction.

"I think someone else wants to say goodbye."

I wiped away her tears with my thumbs then I pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead before motioning Jake forward. I watched them for a minute or two. Watched as Isabella's arms wrapped around his neck, his hands circled her waist, words exchanged between kisses and tears. I turned away and let them have their moment. My backside rested on the rear bumper of the truck, arms crossed over my chest as I waited for them to finish. I prayed I'd hold myself together.

"We can go now," Jake's gruff voice informed me as the passenger door opened and slammed shut abruptly. I lifted my hand to wave goodbye but before I could make the motion Isabella was sprinting toward me, throwing herself into my arms. She grabbed around my middle, her head pressed to my chest, tears staining my shirt. She was exactly where I wanted her to be - minus the tears.

"Isabella," I whispered her name so she wouldn't hear my voice about to break. "Honey, Jake and I have to go." It killed me to think I may have to pry her hands from me but staying longer wouldn't make things any easier.

She shook her head. "I don't want you to."

"You'll be okay."

"How do you know?" Her voice quivered.

I lifted her chin with my finger. "Because I know. Maybe not today, but eventually. You'll find your way, get into a routine, and make friends. We can Facetime every night, and your plane ticket is already bought for Thanksgiving. I'll send you care packages with Gramma's shortbread and beef jerky and—"

Isabella's half-laugh, half-cry interrupted me.

"I hate beef jerky."

"Right. I knew that."

"I appreciate what you're trying to do, Dad. Thank you."

I was trying to convince myself as much as her that everything was going to be okay. That I would survive college, too. Somehow.

With a final hug, I got into the truck. I told Isabella I refused to drive until she was safe inside the dormitory. Really, I couldn't stand to see any more tears stain her beautiful face. Only when the door closed behind her did I put the key into the ignition. I waited a moment to see if she'd poke her head out one last time but she didn't. Jake and I were on our way home.

We drove for over three hours in silence before my passenger spoke.

"Thanks for letting me tag along."

"Yeah, no problem."

I glanced over at the boy my daughter had given her heart to. With his sunglasses off it was easy to tell he'd been crying and it made it hard for me to dislike him. For two years he'd been a part of our lives and I admit, for the majority of it I didn't like him. Mostly because I didn't think anyone could love Isabella the way I felt she deserved. Seeing the lost, forlorn look on his face made me realize perhaps he did.

"I'm really going to miss her."

"You and me both, Jake. You and me both."

Well, his baby has gone off to college *sniff*sniff* I may have teared up a bit writing this one but it's one of my favorite chapters. I really hope you enjoyed it. Many thanks to Alanna for making my words pretty. xo