4

Needless to say, Bella did not go down to the Oasis. She just couldn't handle being back there, around Rosalie and Emmett, trying to be the happy, well-adjusted woman she wasn't anymore. So, instead she stayed home with Charlie. Made him the steak, the baked potatoes, the salad, and her famous chocolate cake. But while he settled in front of the television to watch football, she retreated back into her bedroom, back into her memories, back into her grief. And that's where she stayed for the next ten days.

Charlie tried to get her out of her room. Jasper tried, Alice tried. They sent Cassie and Millie up, knowing her nieces were her weak spot, but even they couldn't get her out of her room, away from wall of memories that surrounded her all the time. She'd unpacked every picture she had of Carlisle, of her and Carlisle, and pinned them on the walls, where she could be surrounded by him one more time. She needed him, needed him to make her heart feel better, needed him to hold her hand, to keep her from falling apart, yet Carlisle wasn't there. All she had left of him were her memories, and her memories weren't enough. Not close to being enough.

But, on the eleventh day, when the memories had torn her soul into shreds, when the darkness became too much for her to handle, she slipped his shirt out of the bottom drawer of her dresser where she had put it when she arrived back at her father's house two weeks ago. It had been his cadet shirt. After he graduated, she stole it and on the nights when he worked, she would sleep in it, because it smelled like him, always like him. Once again, she slipped the shirt on and put her shoes on and snuck downstairs and outside.

She started walking up the street until she got to the park. She sat on one of the swings, leaning her head against the chains as she started moving slowly up and back, up and back. The chains squeaked, but if she closed her eyes, she found she could feel his hands on her back and he pushed her back and forth.

"Faster, Carlisle," she would squeal. "Harder."

"Faster and harder, huh?" he would tease, his arms wrapping around her and his lips brushing against outside of her ear. "I'll give you faster and harder, Iz."

Tears burned her eyes as she replayed the way he touched her, loved her, and needed her. He was her world, her everything, and it wasn't fair that he'd left her alone. How could he have left her alone?

"Izzy."

Startled, she slid the swing to a stop and looked behind her, finding Edward standing several yards behind her. Ten years had changed him in so many ways. Where he used to be too thin, his skin pale and ashy, his eyes heavy and bloodshot, now he'd was a solid fifty pounds heavier, healthier. But it was his eyes that stood out the most: they were full of sorrow and grief. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and looked around, like he was expecting his brother to magically appear and defend her. He would have, had he not been dead. But then again, if he hadn't died, she would be in New York with him.

"It's three in the morning, Izzy. What are you doing out here?"

She shook her head. "What are you doing out here? I thought your dealer hung out over in Starburst Crest."

Edward frowned, his eyes shifting away from hers. "He got busted a couple years ago and is serving ten years upstate."

Bella scoffed and stood up, wrapping her arms around herself as she started walking back to the street.

"Hey, wait!"

"Fuck off, Edward."

"Izzy, just wait," Edward called out again and a moment later, she felt him grab her arm and pull her to a stop.

"Don't fucking touch me!" she screamed, yanking her arm out of his hand and turning to face him. "You don't ever fucking touch me, Edward. Not ever."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." Edward put his hands up in front of him. "I just . . . Are you okay?"

"Am I . . . Am I okay?" she laughed, shaking her head. "No, no, I am not okay. I am so fucking far from being okay."

"Sorry. That was stupid of me to ask." Edward shoved his hands back into pockets. "I wanted to come out for the funeral, but. . ."

"But you knew he wouldn't want you there."

Edward nodded, his eyes filling with sadness. "Yeah, I knew he wouldn't want me there."

Bella sighed, her eyes closing for a moment as she tried to keep from crying. The last thing she needed, or wanted, was for Edward to see her cry. "He missed you. He missed you so fucking much, Edward. Why couldn't you . . . why couldn't you see what you were doing to him? You were supposed to be his big brother, the one taking care of him, but instead, he was cleaning up your messes. After everything they did to you, to both of you, how could you just . . ." She shook her head. "Why? Just tell me why?"

"I don't . . . I don't know, Izzy. I just got lost, let it control me. It helped keep the pain away, and I . . ." Edward looked away from her. "He never forgave me for the accident, for hurting you. Hell, I haven't forgive myself, either."

Bella brought her hand up, her fingers pressing against the thin scar on the along the inside of her arm. "Guess that makes all three of us."

She turned and started to walk back toward the street, but stopped when she heard Edward speak again, asking, "You're pregnant, aren't you? You are, aren't you, Izzy? That's why you were at Dr. Black's office, wasn't it?"

Her eyes closed for a moment before she started walking away from him again. This time when she walked away from him, Edward didn't attempt to stop her.

—RtW—

Charlie was sitting on the front steps when Bella got back to the house. He was wearing a dark blue bathrobe over his red and black plaid pajama pants and grey T-shirt. He didn't say anything as she walked up and sat down next to him, pulling her knees up to her chest.

"I miss him so much," she whimpered and a moment later, she felt him wrap his arms around her, nestling her in his embraced. "Why, Daddy? Why did he leave me, Daddy?"

"I don't know, honey," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. "I just don't know."

They didn't speak again for almost an hour, long after her tears stopped falling, after she'd stopped asking why. Why? Why? Why? Why? She just didn't know how to live without him. He'd promised to love her for the rest of her life, promised to take care of her, to never let anyone hurt her again. In the end, he'd been the one who hurt her, hadn't he?

Charlie sighed as the sun was starting to peek in the sky. "I can take the day off. We could go to the city, maybe eat at that place over on sixth street. Danvers has the best seafood in the area."

Bella tried to smile, but shook her head. "Thanks, but I'm not sure I'm up for Danvers yet."

Charlie nodded. "Not gonna lie, Izzy: I'm getting worried about you."

She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm sorry. I just . . . I don't know how to do life without him."

"You let us help you, let us be here for you, honey."

"He was supposed to be here," she whimpered, standing up and walking up the front porch, into the house, and upstairs to her bedroom. She closed the door behind her, sliding to the floor, and pulling her knees up to her chest.

Bella heard her father follow her, heard him stop outside of her bedroom door, but he didn't knock, he didn't try to get her to talk to him again, but knowing that he was right there was enough. For now, that was enough, she hoped.

—RtW—

"Izzy! Izzy, open the door!"

Sighing, Bella pushed herself off her bed and walked over to her bedroom door, gripping the door knob and yanking it open, finding herself face to face with Jasper, who had one hand on other side of the doorframe. His blue eyes traveled from her to the walls of her bedroom, widening before he looked back at her.

"Get dressed."

"Jay, I . . . I'm not really up for whatever you want to do."

"I'm not taking no for an answer, Izzy. I miss my little sister, so get dressed." He leaned forward and sniffed. "Take a shower first, though; you stink."

"Jay!" she laughed, pushing him away from her.

"Fifteen minutes, Izzy. You have fifteen minutes, or I'm coming back in." He gave her a look before he turned and hurried downstairs.

Bella shut the door to her bedroom and leaned against it. She wanted to tell him to fuck off, to go to Hell, to leave her alone, but instead, she found herself pushing away from the door and stripping off her clothes and hurrying into the bathroom. She started the shower before she turned and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She'd always been thin, petite even. She had a dancer's body, one that she had always taken pride in, but now, she looked sickly and pale, fragile and delicate. Her eyes were heavy with dark circles, her cheeks gaunt, mostly because she hadn't had much of an appetite. She was almost eleven weeks pregnant, and her husband was dead, and she couldn't handle forcing herself to eat.

She turned from the mirror and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash over her body, wash away the tears that fell down her face. She took the time to shampoo and condition her hair, use her favorite body wash. Saltwater Breeze. Carlisle bought her five bottles of it for Christmas, laughing about how she had expensive tastes. Yet, every time she used it, he'd press his face against the side of her neck and take a deep breath, his lips pressing against the crevasse where her neck and her shoulder met and he'd whispered, "Smile for me, Izzy. Smile just for me."

"Izzy, shake a leg!" Jasper yelled, banging on the door to the bathroom.

"I'm almost done," she whimpered, knowing she was unable to keep the tremor of emotions from lacing her words.

Though, whether or not he heard her, she didn't know. She rinsed off before she turned off the water and grabbed a towel to wring her hair out as much as she could before wrapping the towel around her body. She felt numb as she walked out of the bathroom and into her bedroom, where she dried off and quickly dressed, putting on a pair of leggings and Carlisle's cadet T-shirt again. She didn't bother brushing her hair as she grabbed her phone and headed downstairs, finding Jasper seated on the edge of the coffee table. He looked up at her, his eyes lingering on the shirt she had put back on, but didn't say anything as he led her out of the house and down to his truck.

Jasper opened the passenger side door for her before offering her his hand. She tried to smile as she let her brother help her into his truck and once he had the door closed, she reached back and pulled on her seatbelt. Jasper climbed in behind the wheel and put his own seatbelt on before cranking the engine and shifting into drive. He gave her one more look before he pulled away from the curb.

Bella lobbed her head to the side, her eyes closing as they drove. It wasn't until she felt the truck jerk to a stop that she opened her eyes and looked around. Jasper had parked outside of a paintball field, the same paintball field Charlie had taken them to after their mother left. Renee had stayed around until the night of Bella's seventh birthday, long enough for her to blow the candles out on her cake and open her gifts, and then she was gone. She walked out in the middle of the night and left Charlie to raise Jasper and Bella alone. They never heard from her again, not once.

One day, about a month after she walked out, he loaded them both into the backseat of his car and drove them to the paintball field just outside of Woodbury. He said they needed to have some fun, to just laugh again. And they had. They'd laughed and had fun, but that was a lifetime ago, a life when Carlisle and Jacob were just her best friends, when they promised to find her mother and beat her up for leaving her. Instead, Jake died before he could truly live, and Carlisle . . . Well, he had left her alone, too.

"Jay," Bella whimpered, looking over at him. "How could he leave me alone? I need him, I need him to help me raise this baby."

"But he can't, Izzy. He can't because he's not here. He . . . He found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he . . . he . . . Carlisle wouldn't want you to fall apart like this."

Bella shook her head and looked back out the window. "I don't know how to breathe without him." She brought her hand up to her chest. "It's hurts, Jay. It hurts all the time. I . . . I miss him so much," she sobbed, and a moment later, she felt him reach over and pull her across the seat, holding her against him.

—RtW—

By the time, Jasper pulled back up in front of the house, their faces, hands, and hair were covered in green and blue paint. Though she hadn't wanted to get out of the truck, to have a paintball war with her brother, she did, because Jasper needed to help her and she just wanted to forget for a moment that she was alone, that the love of her life had been taken from her. And for a brief, very brief moment, she almost felt that sense of relief — almost, but not quite.

"What are you going to do now?" Jasper asked.

Bella shrugged her shoulders, tightening her arms around her knees as she looked over at him. "I . . . I don't know, Jay. I just . . . My life wasn't supposed to turn out like this."

Jasper nodded, and looked way from her. "You loved him, Izzy. Nobody would argue otherwise, but . . ."

"But what?"

He tilted his head to the side and looked at her. "He took you away from us. You and Carlisle both left Woodbury and never looked back, not even for me or Dad." Jasper paused before saying, "You know he got sick last year."

"What do you mean? How was he sick?"

Jasper frowned. "He was having some chest pains, a lot of chest pains actually. I tried to get him to go to the doctor for months, but you know how stubborn Dad is."

She nodded.

"Then he passed out at the school. Mrs. Cope called an ambulance and then me. I met him in the emergency room. He . . . had a seventy percent blockage in his coronary arteries. Luckily, they were able to place a stent, and he's had to change his diet, which I'm sure he hadn't told you about," he added, giving Bella a look.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Dad told me not to," Jasper said, shrugging his shoulders. "Said your life was in New York now."

"You still should have told me, Jay."

"Would you have come back?"

"I . . . I don't know."

"Well, Dad knew you wouldn't," Jasper said. "So, he made me promise not to tell you."

Bella shook her head, and looked back at the house. "You should have told me."

"Well, you shouldn't have pushed us away." Jasper climbed out of the truck and walked around, opening the passenger door for her. "He isolated you from everyone who loves you, Izzy. I liked Carlisle, I did, but the way he kept you away from all of us wasn't healthy."

"He . . ." Bella sighed and climbed out of the truck, placing her hand on Jasper's chest. "Carlisle wasn't the reason we left Woodbury, Jay. He wanted to stay here, he wanted to stay in Woodbury, but I begged him to go to New York with me, especially after Jake died. I had gotten a spot in The New York Ballet Company, and I was scared to go alone, so he left with me. I was the reason we never came back. Me, Jay, not him."

Bella pushed against his chest, causing him to take a step backward. She turned and walked up the front walk, and onto the porch. Throwing her brother a look, she opened the door and walked inside, finding her father seated on the couch. He looked at the paint on her hands and in her hair before he stood up.

"You went paintballing without me?"

Bella shrugged her shoulder, gesturing out the still open front door. "Jay made me."

Charlie nodded and when he walked over to her, they both looked out as Jasper drove away from the curb. He reached out and closed the front door before placing his hand on Bella's shoulder, who shrugged it off.

"What's wrong?"

"Why didn't you tell me about having a stent put in last year?"

Charlie sighed, folding his arms in front of him. "He promised that he wouldn't tell you."

"You should have told me, Dad!"

"Wasn't like you were suddenly going to give two shits about me if I did."

"Dad!"

"What? It's true, Izzy."

"No, it's not. I just . . ." Bella shook her head. "I love you, Dad. I never stopped loving you. I just didn't want to be here ever again. Not after . . ."

"Jake. Not after Jake died." Charlie reached for her, but Bella put her hands up, stopping him from touching her. "It was accident, Izzy. It was just an accident."

"They're all just accidents, aren't they? Jake, Carlisle? They left me, Dad. They left me alone and . . ."

Bella shook her head again before she turned and walked upstairs and into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She inhaled a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she looked at her nightstand, finding a small bouquet of sunflower sitting on top. There was a small note folded in the middle. Bella pushed away from the door and walked over to the flowers, leaning down and cupping them in her hands. Sunflowers had been her favorite, always been her favorite. Every year on her birthday, their anniversary, a random Wednesday, Carlisle would send her sunflowers.

Tears burned her eyes as she plucked the note out and sat on the side of the bed, unfolding it, and reading it out loud. "Meet me tomorrow, one o'clock at the O. It's time we talked. Edward."

Sighing, she folded the note and placed it back on her nightstand. The last thing she wanted was to deal with Edward Cullen again.

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