As always, Rose & Missy are the sugar to my spice.

I can't believe he's gone. He's nowhere to be seen. It just doesn't seem real. I keep expecting him to drive back into the parking lot, to run to me with open arms and tell me he's sorry and that he'll never leave me again.

But this isn't some Hollywood romantic movie, this is real life—my life—and instead of Edward, I get Jessica.

"Bella! There you are! Get up girl. Peter's here and Dudley is his part anyway, you know this, now come on! Mrs. Cope is going over the changes in stage directions with Peter. It's almost show time, hurry up!"

She bends down to help me stand up off the concrete, but something inside of me feels dead and heavy and doesn't want to move.

Sluggishly, I let her get me to my feet but when she starts to tug me toward the building, I'm rooted solidly in my spot.

Jess lets go of my hand as she steps around to stand directly in front of me. "Bella, Bella, Bella." With a slight brush of her fingertips, she tries to fix my hair back in place, then she wipes a few stray tears off my cheeks.

I look into her eyes and see my old best friend standing there taking care of me. It hits me hard that I don't really know her anymore and I miss her, especially in times like these. She always was a good one to lean on.

"What are you doing, Bella?" she says under her breath.

All I give her is a shrug.

"Sweetie," she shakes her head, "he really is gone. I mean—what did you expect anyway? It's Edward Cullen for goodness sakes. Leaving is what he's best at. Now, straighten up. You have a story to act out to a packed audience. Get yourself together, you hear me? You don't need him, Bella Swan."

I nod knowing she's right but not caring very much. Sometimes we want the wrong things. Sometimes the wrong things make us happy, make us smile, make us feel alive.

Even after those wrong things leave and break our heart, we still want them more than anything.

/ / /

Peter meets me backstage before we are to take front and center for the first time tonight. He tentatively smiles at me as I approach him.

I still want to punch his face. Repeatedly.

He cocks his head to the side and I lose my cool.

"Don't you dare smile at me like that. Your days of smiling at me are over! Just so you know Peter O'Reilly, once this play is finished, I don't ever want to speak to you again!" I clinch my fists so tight my knuckles ache.

"Bella…"

I take one step closer and point my finger right in his face. "Don't you Bella me! We. Are. Finished...forever!" I notice that my hand is shaking so I slowly lower it and take a step back. I don't want to be this upset before show time. I try to take a few calming deep breaths, but I need to get this out of my system, I need to tell him how I feel. "Peter, how could you do this to me? You are so not my friend. You, of all people, know how much these performances mean to me and now you are the one who is going to ruin it all. You. I hate you for that right now. I hate you for that even more than I hate you for cheating on me. It sure is a good thing everything was so perfect last night, I'll at least have that to send in."

I can't even stand to look at him now. I have no doubt that going on that stage opposite him will be one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.

If only I had a choice.

/ / /

"Bella, darling it wasn't that bad. It wasn't as good as last night, but if I hadn't of seen it before with you and—"

"Mom, please stop. I know last night's performance was better, but I can't do anything to go back and change tonight now. It's done. Over. I don't want to talk about it anymore. Please."

I can feel the tension curling up and pulsing through my body, growing with every passing minute. I just want this day—this week—this play to be over already. I try to find relief by massaging my temples, but it's going to take a hell of a lot more than that to make me feel better.

"Do you want to go grab a bite to eat or something? You're starting to look a little pale." She takes one of those frustrated, shallow breaths that sound like a sigh. She's almost done pushing.

I know she's about to give in and let me be.

"I'm not hungry."

"Well, I need to get home to your dad and your brother, what do you say to a quick ice cream stop on the way? Your choice." She picks up her purse and shrugs at me.

What's wrong with me can't be fixed with frozen milk and sugar, although it sure would be nice if it could.

Nice try, Mother.

"No thank you. I just want to be alone for a little while if that's alright?"

"Okay." She nods and walks toward the door. She pauses and turns back around to look at me. I see the worry painted all over her face. She's good at giving me space, even when I don't even know if I want her to. "Are you gonna be okay, honey?"

I take a deep breath and try to smile at her. I nod, "Yeah, I will be."

But as soon as she clicks that door closed and I am finally alone, it feels like my insides might tumble out onto the floor from the gaping hole in my chest.

It hurts so much.

How come everything was so perfect just twenty-four hours ago? How can it all fall apart so fast?

Tonight's performance was awful. It really was so bad. It didn't help that I was on the verge of tears all night. And Peter may have known every single line of his part, but he kept forgetting all the stage directions. Most of the time he was scrambling around the stage floor like he was walking on ice.

And to make matters worse, Edward never showed.

Why me?

And now here I am, back where just last night I never wanted to leave.

I look around this room and I see Edward everywhere. Us everywhere.

Our covers are still out, folded into a messy pile on the couch. The chair cushion he used last night as a pillow still lies haphazardly in the floor.

I look at the door and a whisper of his kiss tickles my lips. I glance at the couch and my heart races remembering his roaming hands. I close my eyes and see us tangled together in the floor, and all I know is I feel like I just want to break. Or crumble and cry and thrash and scream. Or do them all in tandem, over and over again.

But I don't.

I don't do anything but sit here numb in this dressing room chair. Cold. Lost. Scared.

Alone.

In the worst of ways.

/ / /

Not too long after my mother leaves, I decide I should just go on home. But as soon as I start to gather my things, there's a knock at the door.

I swallow hard and my breathing speeds. My stomach feels like it's trying to crawl up my throat and for a second it feels like my legs aren't going to work.

Last night rushes through my memory again. Maybe Edward has thought about it too. Maybe he has come back to me.

I want to believe it's Edward so much. I want to use all my wishes I've ever wished, take them back and trade them in for this wish right now.

Please, let it be him.

But I also try not to get my hopes up. I try not to run to the door. I try to hold back from swinging it open so fast it practically rips off the hinges.

I close my eyes and with a deep breath I pull the door wide open. When I squint my eyes to see who's standing there, the last of my strength crashes, my knees give out, and she catches me.

"Bella, sweetheart, I'm so, so sorry."

"Is Edward all right?" I somehow choke out through all the fear that's consuming me.

She nods, "Yes, yes he's fine. He's just gone, honey."

Mrs. Cullen holds me as I cry—silent, stomach convulsing, brokenhearted sobs. She brushes through the ends my hair and rubs over my back. She whispers 'shhhs' and 'it'll-be-okays.' Her arms cradle me and allow me to feel and mourn and pout as much as I want.

She leads me over to the couch, but I can't—I don't want to sit there, so I slide down to the floor instead. My back pressed up against the couch—our couch, and my arms circling my bent knees.

"Mrs. Cullen, I'm sorry that I just lost it on you like that." I try to dry my face off.

She slowly and carefully squats down in the floor to sit beside me. "Call me Esme, please, and don't you dare apologize! You have every right to be upset, Bella. I just hate this so much for you. You didn't deserve it in the least!"

"So where is he?"

She shakes her head. "I don't know yet. Carlisle is out looking for him. We didn't know he was gone until the play began and it wasn't Edward up there."

"Well how do you know he's okay then?" I start to panic again.

"Because I just know. This is Edward we're talking about. He disappears often."

I'm shocked and confused and still concerned.

She reaches over and pats my knee. "He's safe Bella. He's just running like he always does. He may be my son, but I'll be the first to admit he has a hell of a lot of growing up to do. And I'm sorry you got hurt from his immaturity, but I'm not sorry I got to watch you and him on stage last night."

"I want you to know that tonight wasn't my choice. Edward was the one who should have been up there with me, not Peter."

"Wasn't Edward Peter's understudy to begin with?" she asks.

"It doesn't matter. Peter didn't earn it, nor did her deserve it." I sigh "He didn't even transform into Lord Dudley like Edward did. Edward owned that performance."

"Hmm," she smiles. "Edward was good up there wasn't he?"

I nod and take a deep breath, trying to calm myself and think happy thoughts. It's not easy.

She bumps my elbow with hers. "It's because of you, you know? All you did for him. You believed in him, you had faith in him. You challenged him. You get all that credit, Bella. And you were magnificent up there too, like a well-seasoned actress if I do say so myself."

"Thank you Esme." I say with sincerity. It means a lot to hear that from her. "Last night was wonderful and perfect and I couldn't wait to do it again, but…"

She squeezes my knee, it's like she knows I'm about to break down again and I need a comforting touch to hold me together. "I know, Bella There's a lot going on inside that boy's head. He has one too many demons to shake. I told you, he runs away all the time. It started when he was young. He'd hide for hours when he got in trouble or his feelings hurt. As he got older it became longer, it went from being gone all day to disappearing for weeks at a time."

"Really?" This is something I never knew about Edward.

"He used to worry me crazy. Then I realized it's just who he is. Usually after a night, he'll call and tell us where he is and that he's okay, but he'd rather run and push whatever is bothering him away, out of sight out of mind, than to stay and deal with it. One of these days running will catch up with him."

Esme settles in a little more to my side and takes my hand. "Two years ago, my mother had a stroke. She went downhill fast. Nana and Edward were really close. In the hospital she woke up a few times, but she wasn't coherent. She didn't know who any of us was and it broke Edward's heart. He just wanted to tell her goodbye and that he loved her, but she wouldn't even speak to him."

I see the tears pooling in Esme's eyes. I tighten my fingers in between hers.

"The day she died, I think he lost his most favorite person in the world. He refused to go to the funeral or anything. When we got home that evening from the burial, he was gone. He had run away to a friend's house and they traveled out of town. They drove to the coast. And Edward never said why, but I think that's where his most prized memories were with his Nana. It scared me that he was gone for so long. But he did come back. He just needed the time to mourn in his own way. Now his father, he wasn't so understanding." Esme uses her free hand to wipe her cheeks.

"But everything has been different since then. Somehow, he's been even more closed up than usual. He's sour, angry at the world. He keeps everyone at a distance, including me. Now, all he ever talks about is leaving this town, leaving home, never looking back. It hurts, but if that's what he has to do, that's what he has to do." She shrugs and shakes her head.

Then she turns toward me a little more and cups her other hand over our linked hands. "But Bella, these past few months that he's spent with you, I got to see a little of my ol' Edward back. The sweet boy who used to pull my own flowers out of my flower bed and bring them to me in a paper cup! Root, dirt, and all! The Edward who wasn't afraid to feel and be happy and to care. You gave me that again, however fleeting, and I thank you for that. Honestly, I think Edward found a new favorite person in the world." She raises her eyebrows.

I understand what she's saying, but it still doesn't make sense to me. "Then why would he just bail on me like this?"

She bites her lip and seems lost in thought for a moment. "If I had to take a guess, I'd say it's because he's so scared. He doesn't want to love because he doesn't want to hurt. It's too hard for him to separate the two. Ever since we discovered his dyslexia, he's been building these walls around himself, pebble by pebble. He was always afraid of ridicule and being thought of as dumb. He used to cry that he just wanted to be normal. Then somewhere along the way, his feelings of fear turned to anger. And he just wanted to tell the world to screw off. He made good face that he didn't care what anyone thought of him. He wanted everyone to think he was indestructible. But the truth is, he just never let anyone in—until you."

I smile and a tiny sob bubbles up in my throat. "Esme, I fell in love with him."

She releases my hand and pulls me in for a hug. "I'd bet all the gold in the world, that he feels the same way."

"A rose must remain with the sun and the rain or its lovely promise won't come true." ~ Ray Evans