His absence at school for the past two days was like a gaping hole in her world. Beth tried to convince herself that he was simply preoccupied, perhaps assisting Jasper as he grappled with his own inner turmoil. Yet, the sinking feeling in her gut only intensified as the hours dragged on. The growing sense of unease left her with a nagging fear that something much deeper was at play. Even Bella seemed to have erected an emotional barrier between them, leaving Beth to confront her solitude with a heavy heart.

As they finally arrived home, Bella wasted no time in making her escape, bolting into the house without a word. Beth sat in the car for a moment, her fingers gripping the steering wheel as her mind churned with a mix of emotions. The solitude and isolation she felt were becoming overwhelming, and she couldn't shake the feeling that things might never return to normal.

A movement caught her peripheral vision, and without needing to turn, she knew who it was. He was there, a silent presence that seemed to linger in the shadows. Beth let out a sigh, her breath trembling as she finally spoke, her voice laden with a cocktail of emotions.

"Where were you?" Her words were soft, a whisper carried by the wind, but they held a weight that belied their simplicity. It was a question she had been carrying, a question that held the key to unraveling the tangle of emotions that had consumed her since that fateful night. She didn't need to turn to see his face; she could feel his presence beside her, his aura intertwining with her own in a way that was both comforting and disconcerting.

Instead of answering, Edward had merely reached over and opened her door, "Let's go for a walk." It was meant to be a question, that much was obvious, but Beth didn't want to move.

"It's overcast, it'll rain soon." She replied, fingers sliding down the vinyl of the truck. She searched desperately for another excuse, the sinking feeling in her chest pulling her down with every passing second.

"It's always overcast," he retorted, motioning towards the forest with a defeated gesture. Yet Beth held her ground, resolute in her decision to remain in the confines of the truck. Dread seemed to snake its way through her veins, causing a cold numbness to spread.

As Edward persisted, trying to coax her out of the vehicle, Beth felt her resistance intensify. "No," she refused, finally looking at him. His appearance surprised her; he looked disheveled and defeated, a stark contrast to his usual composed self. "No, I think I'm alright here."

"Beth—"

"Can you just say whatever you want to say and get it over with?" Her words came out in a rush, the tension in the air nearly suffocating. If Edward wanted to talk about the kiss, she was ready to address it head-on. "If it's about that kiss, then I'm sorry. It was a mistake and it won't happen again. I shouldn't have done that when I said that I wasn't ready. It was cruel of me and we can forget it ever happened."

"You're right," he finally said, and for a moment, Elizabeth felt as though the ground had slipped from beneath her. His response hung in the air for a moment, and the weight of his words felt like a punch to her chest. Had he agreed that it was a mistake? Her heart raced, and she quickly straightened her posture, trying to appear composed.

"Okay, then is that it?" Her gaze flicked up towards him before quickly dropping again, the turmoil in her emotions becoming harder to hide.

"We need to leave," Edward's voice was strained, and the words held an urgency that she couldn't ignore. "Carlisle looks ten years younger than he actually says he is, and people are starting to get suspicious."

Beth's frustration boiled over. She couldn't stand the half-truths and evasive answers any longer. "Don't bullshit me, Edward. I'm a lot smarter than you think." Her words came out sharp, and her eyes locked onto his, a mix of anger and hurt in her gaze.

"If that were true, then you should have known better than to get close to me and my family." Edward frowned, "I told you not to."

Despite the fact that her heart felt like it was being run over by an eighteen wheeler, Beth had to give herself credit for the way she was so calm on the outside. But on the inside, she was yelling, crying, screaming at him and begging him not to go. And for the first time, she wished so desperately that he could read her mind.

"You did," she agreed after a moment of hesitation.

"Then why did you do it?"

"Just say what you want to say, Edward."

The tension in the car escalated with each exchange, their words like daggers cutting through the air. Beth's frustration grew as Edward continued to evade her questions, and she was done playing the guessing game.

Edward's quick response was tinged with bitterness, the bitterness of someone who had already decided what was best for both of them. "My family and I are leaving. I'm just sorry I let you think that we had a chance— you should have known it wouldn't last. You're too fragile, too human for me and not good enough."

Beth's eyes hardened, her resolve strengthening in the face of his words. She refused to be belittled or treated as if she were weak. "If you wanted to break my heart, guess again. I'm unfazed by the bullshit lies you're telling. And again, I'll ask you— say what you want to say."

Edward's carefully composed façade began to crack, revealing the depth of his emotions beneath. "Goodbye, Elizabeth Swan," he finally burst, his tone heavy with a mixture of pain and resignation. "That's what I wanted to say. I'm leaving, and it will be like I never existed. You don't belong with me or my world. And I'm sorry I couldn't be enough for you."

Beth took a deep breath, her tension easing slightly as Edward's raw honesty finally emerged. But it did nothing to quell the gigantic ball of hurt that she felt in its place "Do what you need to do, Cullen. I'm not as fragile as you think. That's your decision to make, and if you feel that way, then by all means, leave and never come back. I won't stop you."

Edward's voice held a hint of desperation as he asked, "Do you care?"

Pausing to reflect, Beth turned away from him and looked at her hands. The truth was stark and unapologetic in her response. "No," she answered, and despite the emotional turmoil inside her, the numbness that quickly wrapped around her was undeniable. At that moment, she couldn't muster the energy to care any longer.

"Is that it?" She pushed herself up, placing a leg out as if to physically assert her readiness to stand her ground. Her eyes locked onto Edward's, determined to show him that she was accepting his decision with a strength she didn't know she had. Beneath the surface, a storm of emotions raged, but she kept it hidden.S he hoped he saw that she was perfectly fine with his decision despite the raging grief that her subconscious pushed down and out of the way. The time to mourn was not yet upon her.

Not saying anything, Edward merely gazed at her as though he were trying to memorize every feature of her face for the last time.

"Can I ask that you do one thing for me in return?"

Beth laughed then, laughed so hard that the giggles erupted from her chest without prompt, "You think you can ask something of me with the way you're leaving?" When he opened his mouth, Beth stopped him, shaking her head in disbelief. "You don't get to ask anything of me ever again."

She snorted, "If that's all, feel free to leave." She waved her hand dismissively. Beth's tone was laced with a finality that left no room for ambiguity.

The tension between them was palpable, and their exchange seemed to mark the end of an era. Whether they would ever cross paths again, Beth couldn't predict. But in that moment, she was determined to hold her ground and not give him the satisfaction of seeing her falter.

Edward met her gaze, his expression a mixture of sadness and resignation. There was an unspoken weight between them, the heaviness of a chapter closing and the uncertainty of what lay ahead. Edward remained silent, his silence more telling than any words he could have uttered. He seemed to be committing every detail of her to memory, as if trying to etch her image into his mind forever. Edward's eyes shut tightly for a moment, and when he opened them, she finally saw a glimpse of the pain he too was feeling. Part of her reveled in the fact that she caused him to feel even a degree of what was coursing through the deepest parts of her mind. Despite her words, Edward was stock still, almost as though he were the one refusing to leave after all that he had said. The irony didn't get past Beth.

Beth let out a sigh that seemed to carry a mix of emotions. She slung her bag over her shoulder, a signal of her readiness to move forward despite the heaviness in the air. As she passed Edward, she paused briefly, her hand resting on his shoulder for just a moment, "Good luck, Edward. I wish you all the best in your years to come."

With those words, Beth turned away from him and began to walk, her steps firm and resolute. She didn't glance back, didn't give in to the urge to see his reaction. Instead, she focused on moving forward, leaving behind a chapter of her life that had been both beautiful and tumultuous.

Hours later, Beth found herself still sitting on her bed, lost in her thoughts. The steady ticking of the clock provided a rhythm to the silence, a reminder that time was passing even when she felt so stagnant. Her gaze was distant, her mind replaying the recent events and conversations, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions that had overtaken her life. The weight of Edward's absence was almost palpable, a void that had unexpectedly opened up in her world. The room felt both empty and suffocating at the same time, and she was left grappling with a mix of confusion, sadness, and a stubborn determination to keep moving forward.