Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
BPOV
Click.
The softest sound of a door closing caused my eyes to open wide.
Reality had not been kind to me in the last few years so just the sound of the door closing when I lived alone sent my heart racing with dread until I remembered last night.
A wave of emotion crashed over me as memories of Edward next me in this bed caused me to grasp.
His soft kisses.
His whispered apologies.
His promise for things to be better.
His skin against mine.
The sweetest of love making as he promised me a better tomorrow.
I stumbled out of bed, not quite feeling my legs as I struggled to pull on a t shirt that had been discard to cover my nakedness as I fumbled my way out into the living room.
The most tender part of my heart half expected to find him sitting on the couch with a mug of coffee in his hand reading his phone as if he belonged here.
Because he did belong here.
But as I looked around the room I was greeted with emptiness and silence.
The blanket and pillow he had started with last night before moving into my bed were put away in the chest by the couch.
His cup was on the drying rack, pristinely clean as if he had never touched it.
The kitchen table that had been left a mess with papers and the end of our marriage was a tidy once more with all the papers back in the folder where they had started out.
I walked towards the door and jerked it open, not caring about my lack of dress as I looked for him making his sneaky escape like he had so many times before, but found nothing.
He was gone and with him went every sugary sweet word he uttered against my skin.
I closed the door and began the slow process of shaking off that love bomb hangover that came every time I was with Edward like this.
I knew the routine.
Or so I told myself.
I could bury myself in work and school.
I could forget him and every sweet word uttered.
I had done it before.
I could do it again.
I could burn my sheets and throw away his mug.
I could pretend like he doesn't exist.
I could mourn him as if he had died since in a way he had since the man I loved was long gone from the one he had become.
I grabbed a clean cup with fake ambition and made a fresh cup of coffee as I planned my cleansing ritual. It was one I had done before when I whenever I let him in.
I could do it again.
It was then that I noticed the note.
His hand writing was sharp with its scrawling as it filled the back of the envelope that his dad had once left me.
Next time just cash the check.
AN:
Thanks for reading.
Mamasutra