I don't own twilight. What I own is my character's behavior, personality, background, and plot of my story.

Author's Note at the end.

Bella looks around her office. She is happy with the job she got. Marco, whom now can return to using his original name Jacob has no interest in using it. He is still hell bent on not going back to Italy, but Bella has decided to let it go for the time being and try again with him a little bit later. Marco is used to a certain lifestyle in Italy, she will wait and see how long he will be able to handle Chicago. For now, she will continue working in her new office designing landscapes.

"Can you please get me a coffee?" Bella says through the landline after dialing the code of her secretary. She places the phone back in it's place and goes back to studying the previous designs of the company. Usually, she likes to do her own thing, but she was specifically asked to design something that fit into the previous work of the company, so she is burdened with dimming her light by playing as a team player. She would tell herself that once she proves herself they will let her do her own thing, but she isn't planning on sticking around long enough to prove herself.

It's really a shame that she will leave in a year. She can see herself thriving in such a company, or having the company making more options in the US open for her.

Bella hears a knock on the door and looks up to find the secretary entering with her coffee in hand. "Thank you Ellen," Bella tells her as she takes the cup from her and brings it straight to her lips. The older woman smiles at her before she leaves her office.

Deciding to drink her coffee before she starts working, Bella decides to scroll through social media while drinking it. Five minutes into her scrolling, a message pops up. She checks it and finds out that it's from Edward. Too influenced by how things dissolved last time, she automatically reads it. She leans back as she tries to make sense of what she just read and reads it another time.

Dear Bella,

I promise this isn't a suicide note. I learnt my lesson the last time. I know I have no business contacting you, but I feel compiled to do. You are the only one who truly knows me out of everyone around me, bad parts and all.

I am going to rehab. Don't be surprised. It's been a long time coming. After the accident, I stopped drinking cold turkey. Remember how you told me then that it was just a dream, it spooked me and I didn't drink after that, but obviously, when you came back, alcohol stopped being something I was done having.

I think I have a problem. No, I know that I have a problem. You are right. I am the problem, and I can't continue operating as if I am not. I need to fix me, not to get you back, or have custody of Cece; to find me.

Away from the entitlement, anger, and abuse, who am I? I don't know. I need to know. I can't imagine under all of that, I will find more of it. I wasn't a good kind person. I am not a good kind person, but I will become one for myself and others.

When you read this, I will already be somewhere that can make me better. The journey of a hundred miles starts with one step, as they say.

With love,

Edward

She stares at the envelope in her hands. It's from Edward. Emmett came by today and dropped the letter he got from Edward while visiting him. It has been a week since he went to the rehab. She hasn't been in contact with him since then, but she understood from Emmett that he isn't allowed to keep a phone with him which explains that.

She hears rattling of keys in the door and quickly hides the letter just in time for Marco's entrance. "Just in time for dinner," she tells him as he enters through the kitchen door.

"If I knew that I would have a receiving party, I would always show up on time," he tells her after she gives him a toe curling kiss.

"Ha ha," she laughs sarcastically masking her feeling of guilt then continues, "Change your clothes and then help Cece wash her hands."

"Yes ma'am," he replies saluting her. She rolls her eyes at him and starts preparing the dining table. She shouldn't feel guilty. She did nothing wrong. Its not like he needs to know everything about her. He is her partner, not her parent. Even as she think those thoughts to herself while laying in bed waiting for him to fall asleep, so she could read the letter, she knows that she isn't being one hundred percent honest with herself. She is like a recovering addict who's friends with a drug dealer and lies about her friend's occupation to her therapist.

Dear Bella,

I am at a place that will help me make myself better. That, is one thing I have learned recently from my therapist. Can you believe that? I have gone to therapy before, but this is like the boot camp of therapy.

I don't know what to tell you. I don't know where I went wrong. I haven't figured out that yet. I mean, aside from my first line, I have no idea why I am even mailing you. I guess I wanted to feel like I have someone to contact who isn't angry at my location. Dad thinks that it's a waste of time. He thinks that I am playing the victim and that I am better off returning to work.

Mom, is another story all together. She has made this entire thing about her. She is the victim and I am the perpetrator because how dare I become a person that needs rehab? What will people think of her son? What will people think of her as a mother?

They both love me. I know that. I justwish they loved me in the right way.

I guess I want to let you know that despite hating how things have happened, I am not sure I would be where I am today, where I need to be if not for how everytime went down. I need to be here.

If you are still reading, thank you and if you aren't, I understand.

Love,

Edward.

Hello lovely people,

I want to seriously apologize for the late update. I was sick for the last week, but not just that. I have been feeling extremely burnt out recently, and my anxiety has been all over the place. On top of that, someone commented about a character in my other story doing something that is neurodivergent that I do all the time and that has sent me down a rabbit hole about myself and I am not sure what I am supposed to do with what I am discovering.

I am finished writing this story. I even started working on the sequel, which you are supposed to find about in the Author's Note of the next chapter, so please act surprised once I tell you about it I'm my next update. My problem isn't writing itself, I can write in my sleep. My problem is editing, writing the author's note and actually hitting the publish button. Those things drive my anxiety through the roof. I am even updating this story and my other one at the same time, so I can go through the anxious experience once instead of twice.

Anyways, I will try to update my next chapter as soon as possible.

Please leave a comment in the review section. It could be your favorite part, thoughts, feeling, or even criticism. Any and every comment you leave is read and taken into consideration. Your comments motivate me to update faster, and help me grow as a writer.

Until my next update,

Stay Safe