THE THIRD TIME

Every day for the next three days, I think about calling Seth. My finger hovers over the call button but I don't end up hitting it for one reason or another. Like, I don't want to bother him. Like, he shouldn't have to deal with my ex boyfriend for me. Like, I haven't seen Edward since the bar, so maybe he gave up after I slammed the door in his face for the second time.

The rest of the weekend, I refused to leave my apartment. It was my goal to become a hermit: I watched way too much Giada at Home and Diners, Drive Ins and Dives; I finished two horror novels; and I didn't open my blinds. I even called off work.

I leave the apartment on Monday because the sun was out. And I have to go to class to keep my scholarship. And I have eaten everything in my cupboards and fridge and desperately need to grocery shop.

I figure it's safe to go to the library after classes; I need to start outlining an essay for my Great American Novels course. I find a nice spot in the basement away from most people and set up my space for maximized focus: notebook, flair pen, a copy of Gatsby. For our midterm, I decide to write an essay about Fitzgerald's sexuality as demonstrated through the characterization of Nick Carraway and Jay Gatz, and I begin thumbing through the text to write down quotes and page numbers.

I'm wondering if I need to quote anything from Zelda's letters regarding her husband's sexuality when someone sits at the table across from me, setting their designer bag down carelessly. I pull my notebook closer to me to give them room - I tend to spread out when I focus too hard - and that's when an iced coffee is pushed my way.

My head snaps up, but it isn't Aaron who's found my studying place. It isn't Edward either.

It's Rosalie fucking Hale. Her blonde hair shimmers in the fluorescent lighting - it reminds me of sunlight dancing over the ocean in the summer. Her eyes are golden and piercing. She's sitting there, fiddling with her thumbs and looking at me like she just ran over my kitten.

I don't even own a kitten.

I reach out and tentatively grab the drink, looking down again at my work after meeting her eyes briefly. I mumble my thanks. I spend some time thinking about Fitzgerald's diction when she finally interrupts my analysis. "Bella." Her voice is soft and caressing. It feels fake as fuck to me. I don't look up, so she says my name again.

"Yes, Rosalie?" I ask, taking a sip. I tilt my head to the side in an inviting way - I hope she sees it's just as fake as her tone.

"Bella, look." She folds her hands in front of her like we are about to sign a contract. "Edward doesn't know I'm here." She bites her lip in a very human gesture.

I shove a lock of my hair behind my ear and look at her blankly. Like I don't care. 'Cause I don't.

"Alice saw that he decided to come here." She points one finger at the table and sighs dejectedly. "He hasn't been home since Forks."

I try so, so hard not to, but I wince. The frayed edges of the hole in my chest flair, then the pain pulses. I can feel tears gather in the corner of my eyes and I refuse, I refuse to cry in front of Rosalie.

"Our family has fallen apart without him," she begins to explain.

The weepiness I'm holding back turns into red hot rage. "Oh, so you need me to talk to him so your family can be happy again? Can be whole?" My voice sounds like it's spitting venom. Poisonous.

Rosalie, surprisingly, flinches back like I've smacked her. "No, no, Bella, you don't understand."

I struggle to keep my voice down. "Maybe it's you who doesn't understand. I've been through fucking Hell, Rosalie. I barely was able to put myself together again. It's not my fucking job to put your family back together." I glare daggers at her.

"That's not what I was suggesting-"

"Then what were you suggesting? I give your brother-" I spit the word out - "another chance just because he seems sad? He told me he didn't want me anymore." I am close to hyperventilating. Angry tears seep out the corners of my eyes. I brush at them frantically and start packing my things away.

She shakes her head, but it isn't because she is pitying me anymore. No, it looks like she's… annoyed. "He said what?"

I want to scream. I want to punch something. My notebook hovers in midair as she looks down at her hands, which are making gouge marks in the table.

She looks back at me, wrenching her hands back. "Bella, we had no idea," her eyes are pleading. "We would've never left if we knew he was lying to you. He said it was mutual."

My ears start ringing. "How did you not know?" I try hard to not add something petty like Why should I do anything for you if you don't even like me! I'm not an insecure teenager anymore, so I hold my tongue.

Rosalie shifts uneasily. "He told Alice you didn't want her looking in anymore…"

I chuckle darkly, shaking my head. Realizing my notebook is still clutched tightly in my hand, I pack it away, shoving my books and pens in as well. So much for a nice, relaxing afternoon of color coding quotes and getting lost in analysis and pretending I don't have an ex boyfriend who's a superhuman vampire with millions of dollars and the ability to stalk me endlessly.

I stand and throw my bag over my shoulder. "Thanks for the coffee," I mutter as I turn to jog up the stairwell. She might call after me; I can't tell because my heartbeat is thudding hard in my ears.

When I walk out of the undergraduate library, it's twilight. I stand there and close my eyes, breathing in and out for a moment, calming my thumping heart.

"Good evening," a velvet voice murmurs from my right.

Shit.

I sigh hard through my nose. I don't need to turn to know it is Edward standing there. "What do you want?" I snap, opening my eyes to glare at him. His eyes are still pitch black, his movements more inhuman and jerky.

"I was wondering if I could take you to dinner." He's being overly polite and he shifts a little on his feet as if he's nervous.

I weigh my options: go home and try to keep my scholarship by writing a bomb ass paper, or let my ex vampire boyfriend take me out to eat. The one who's a millionaire and has stalking tendencies. I really want myself to be rational, but he's standing there in the same clothes from four nights ago and, if it's at all possible, the purple bruises underneath his eyes look like they've spread. I take a deep breath in, and he's close enough that I can smell that intoxicating scent on him… "Yeah," I whisper before I can think twice.

His resulting smile lights up his whole face. It feels like a punch to the gut.

~~~~

Edward waits at the counter for my soup and sandwich. I'm used to people trying to get his attention, fawning over him; instead, people give him a wide berth. It's like he's dropped some of the human act.

I get it - he seems more like a monster, but I don't really feel unsafe physically. Just emotionally. At the table, I fiddle with my drink, chew the straw. He walks toward me a little too quickly, carrying my tray of food, and slides it across the table to me.

I glance down at the food and then back up at him to see him watching me curiously. He clears his throat. "How was class?"

I raise one eyebrow at him as I take a bite of my sandwich. So he just wants to pretend like we are friends? Like we do this all the time? Anger flairs in my gut and my cheeks heat. I don't answer.

"Okay, fine, Bella. You want to have this conversation here?" He leans toward me, and his voice cracks.

I cut him off from whatever he's going to say. "You know who I saw today?"

He shakes his head, surprised at my tone.

"Your sister."

"Alice?" He looks just slightly livid.

I scoff, shake my head. "Rosalie."

His eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Why?"

"She wanted me to give you a chance." I hold back a snort.

He leans back in his chair. "And is that what this is?"

"I haven't decided." I stir my soup.

"Fair." He takes a napkin from my tray and starts tearing it into little pieces with deft, precise movements. They fall to the table top like little snowflakes. His voice is low when he says, "I heard you crying the other night."

I don't deign him with a response; I just take another bite of my sandwich.

"I'm so sorry, Bella. I cannot begin to tell you…"

"Rosalie said you lied. In Forks," I clarify.

He rubs the back of his neck. He's whispering when he starts again, and I have to lean forward to hear him clearly. "I did. Lie. What I did was the blackest blasphemy. You have to believe me. I miss you every moment of every day, Bella. I'll take whatever you are willing to give me. Even if it's just this," he gestures between us, his eyes are wide with pleading or maybe panic. "I'll buy you dinner and you can yell at me all you want."

He closes his eyes and pinches his nose for a moment. When he opens his eyes again, they are burning into mine. "That's not what I wanted to say, but the offer still stands. Because, Bella, before you, my life was like a moonless night. There were stars - points of light and reason. But then you shot across my sky like a meteor. And when I left - when I was gone from you - everything returned to the darkness. I couldn't even see the stars anymore.

"The last years have felt like a millennia for me. I've been barely surviving. And to think I thought I was protecting you by leaving." He finishes quietly, shaking his head.

Soup drips from my spoon onto the tray halfway to my lips. There's a lot I want to say, but I'm frozen, pinned in his stare like a butterfly to a board. "I was far from safe," is what comes out of my mouth unbidden. My right knee starts to bounce.

He cocks his head to the side, so quickly that my eyes don't register the movement. "What?"

I push the tray of food away from me, suddenly uncomfortably full. Louder, I respond, "I wasn't safe. You leaving didn't protect me. Victoria came. You left me. Alone." Each word is a lance through my chest.

Edward is frozen in place. It honestly looks like he's in shock. His phone starts buzzing in his pocket.

"Don't follow me." My voice is cold, lifeless. At least it doesn't shake.

I get up and take my tray to the trash, focusing on putting the plate and utensils in the correct spots. I walk out of the restaurant without looking back. The door slams shut behind me.

Luckily, a bus is pulling up to the stop across the street; I run to catch it. I don't care if it's going the wrong way.

I slide into the last empty seat as the tears begin to fall.

Edward Cullen is standing outside of the restaurant staring at me as the bus pulls away.

A/N: Some of Edward's lines are taken directly from my brain as I remember them from New Moon. You know the ones.

I guess this chapter isn't fully a "slam the door in his face" thing as he was technically in shock at the table but you get it.

I don't have an update schedule for this, but currently am battling a cold and this Bella is taking up a lot of my brain space. She has a lot to say and she's snarky af.

Thanks for the follows and comments.