A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts.

Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest belong to me. All mistakes are mine.

Chapter 16 – Immovable Mountain


Saturday, September 17, 2005 – Bainbridge Island, Washington State 10:31 a.m.

BELLA

It had only been a few days since that horrendous phone call, but it might as well have been years for how painfully unending the days droned on without, at least, the sound of your voice. Ironically, I did hear your voice everywhere – at school, in cafés, while walking down the street; it just wasn't directed at me. You were a hit, Edward. Your music was inescapable, and therefore, so was my heartache.

And yes, for the first couple of days after our argument, a sense of righteous indignation marched hand in hand with my heartache. I spent those days fanning the flames of fury by forcing myself to recall every reproach you'd hurled at me over that phone – accusing me of overreacting, being unreasonable, unsupportive, and wanting you to fail. When all along, you'd spent months neglecting our relationship. I fumed at your gall.

And yes, Edward, I meant it on that phone call when I said our relationship wasn't working, when I told you it had become a hindrance to moving forward, that I'd had enough. I meant to remain stoically steadfast and resolute despite my inner agony. I meant to be as immovable as a mountain.

Here's the thing about mountains, though: they're not immovable. That's a myth, or more accurately, a misunderstanding of how nature works. Because the rain slants down, the winds blow, and the craggy planes on stony bluffs slowly wither and smooth over.

Time shifts the largest canyon. It weathers away the most stolidly determined peak.

Somewhere in the next days, a shift began, subconscious and veiled thoughts in the way of haze shrouding the sunshine, concealing it behind clouds that will part, given time. These are the thoughts that seeped steadily into my subconscious, if not yet my conscious thoughts:

Perhaps…perhaps you meant it this time when you said things would change. Maybe things would improve once you finished cutting your album. Possibly, I'd been too hasty.

Maybe we could make things work.

That Saturday morning, Charlie and Renee left bright and early for their weekend errands. The band and I had practice planned for late morning. I was in the garage, trying to distract myself from how every second of every day felt like grains of sand being forced down my throat, both painful and tasteless. To that end, I was readying our equipment, prepping for the band's arrival, and on my knees, unwinding the electric cords when someone pulled up the garage door. Expecting it to be Rosalie, Alice, or Emmett, I looked up with a faint smile.

It withered when I caught sight of who, in fact, stood at the garage doors in her black silk, leather, and stilettos.

"What do you want?" I bit out, no longer hiding my contempt, as I stood and tossed the cords to the floor.

Heidi pointed a long, sharp fingernail at me, replying in the same baleful tone. "To speak to you."

"What about? You and I have nothing to discuss."

"Unfortunately for me, that's not true." She sauntered forward slowly, her sharp heels click-clacking noisily against the garage's concrete floor. When she stopped a couple of arm's length away, she shot me a mocking smile. "I'm going to cut to the chase with you, little girl."

"Who the hell do you think you are, coming in here and calling me 'little girl'?"

"Someone who knows a lot more about life than you do."

"Fuck off, Heidi," I spat, turning and giving her my back. "The slight bit of patience I ever had for you has dwindled to nil."

She continued, sounding completely apathetic to my undisguised loathing. "Well, I never had any patience for you, but I have things to say to you anyway. And yeah, sure, keep your back to me," she lilted nonchalantly. "You've been an impudent little twat since the day I found Edward; I don't expect that to change now. But in the interest of time, I'll just come straight out and tell you to stop playing games with him."

I rounded on her. "I'm not playing any games-"

"Oh, yes," she scoffed, "you are. In your childish selfishness and inexperience about life and how it works, you might honestly not realize you're stringing him along. But rest assured, you are stringing him along. And in the process, you're jeopardizing both his and my careers and fucking with his chances to be one of the greats."

I shot her a scathing scowl. "Not that it's any of your business, Heidi, but Edward and I broke up a few days ago."

She rolled her eyes. "Do you think I don't know that? Bella, who the hell do you think has been dealing with the fallout from your messy handiwork? I'm his manager, for God's sake, and at this point, I'm the one person who spends the most time with Edward and knows him best."

She flung those words with dagger-like precision, grinning when I winced as they hit their bullseye.

"Yes. Of course, I know you and he had a huge fight and that you supposedly broke up with him, and no one knows better than me what your botched job-"

"Botched job?"

"-is doing to his music and opportunities with the label. And yes, Bella, your botched job. Because ever since you left him in limbo, he has not fucking stopped moping and brooding." She sighed in exasperation. "Even worse, the last few days' recording sessions have been complete and utter bullshit. I mean, if you're going to break up with the guy," she snorted, "at least do it right and leave him with something to work with."

My heart contracted excruciatingly at the picture she painted; each word she spoke was like a dark brushstroke, adding layers of anguish. That I'd felt as miserable as she described you for the past few days was beside the point. After all, what did I have going on that was half as important as what you did? I wasn't the one on the brink of stardom, of well-deserved fame. Horrified, I could barely even speak. And so I settled on a weak and mindless attempt.

"I didn't leave him in limbo."

She chuckled. "Let's be honest with one another, Bella, now that it's just you and me here. As I said, my time is precious, and I don't want to waste it on you. You and I have never liked one another, and let me tell you what I see."

"I don't give a damn what-"

"I see a young man with the world at his fingertips." She held up a hand between us, lifting her thumb, index, and middle finger. "He can have fame, fortune, and more than those two, the means to disseminate his brilliance worldwide – because he is brilliantly talented. He loves creating music and performing, and he's amazing at it, on the level with the greats - Cobain, Cornell, and now…Cullen."

"Do you think I don't know how talented he is?" I retorted hotly.

"I don't think you fully grasp what that really means. He's holding himself back," she claimed, "torn in two and unable to focus one hundred and fifty percent the way he needs to in order to make it in this business. And the worst part might be that his distraction is due to a girl who doesn't possess an iota" – she squeezed together her thumb and forefinger – "of the talent he possesses, who doesn't have the passion for it that he does, and who therefore fails to understand what's required in this business. All she wants to do is hold him back."

"I have never wanted to hold him back!" I protested vehemently. And despite my attempt to remain strong and stoic, a tear skimmed down my cheek. When I wiped it away, Heidi smirked.

"Haven't you?" she echoed sardonically. "What do you call the constant nagging, the demands for attention? 'Come visit me! It's my birthday! It's our anniversary! I stubbed my toe!' she mocked.

"Our issues are none of your business!"

"It's all my business," she countered, bouncing a long, sharp fingernail off her chest. "Because I'm his manager."

"And I'm his-"

I cut myself off. Of course, Heidi caught it.

"You're his what? You're his ex-girlfriend, according to you. I'll tell you what you are: you're a small-town college girl in a B-grade band who can't hack her boyfriend's sudden skyrocket to fame and what that means for you. No," she glowered, continuing scathingly, "Edward will never again have the type of time for you that you crave, nor will he show you the level of commitment, priority, and, let's be realistic, likely the fidelity that your fairy-tale heart desires. Because from here on in, his music will rightfully be his life. He'll always be busy, touring and jumping from one place, one project, and one set of groupies to another."

"Edward doesn't give two fucks about groupies," I bristled. "He never has."

"You're right," she nodded with patronizing calm. She then shook her head. "He doesn't pay the groupies any mind. I've noticed that. At least, not yet." She smiled. "But you know who he pays a whole lot of attention to?" She paused just long enough. "He and Janey Ventura have grown pretty chummy over the past few months."

My scalp prickled. Blood-red flames danced before my eyes, almost blinding me with comingled jealousy and fear. Still, I tried to play it off.

"Now you're grasping at straws because Edward is not a cheater, and he told me he doesn't give two fucks about Janey!"

"Oh, did he tell you that? Oh, okay, then. But Bella, I never said he cheated," she qualified. "I said that Janey and he are close. So, maybe he gives one fuck about her. Plus, they share loads of the same interests and are both massively talented and touring together."

I struggled to conceal my torment, how she'd succeeded in sucking all remaining air from my lungs. From the entire garage. But it was futile because I couldn't disguise my erratic breaths, and when I tried to contradict her, my feigned confidence sounded feeble to my own ears.

"So what? None of that makes for a happily-ever-after."

Chuckling, she shook her head. "See, that right there is one of the many reasons I say you're still a child – this childlike belief in happily-ever-afters. But you're right about one thing. Regardless of shared talent and interests, this business sure as hell isn't conducive to building a happily-ever-after sort of relationship. What it is conducive to is building a magnificent career." She paused, choosing her ensuing words carefully. "Edward can't have both happily-ever-afters – in his relationship and career. Right now, he's willing to give one up for the other. The problem is he's ready to give up the wrong one. Do you want to know where that'll get him in the long run? Nowhere. Nowhere and miserable, and rightly blaming you someday."

"Like I said, I'm not trying to hold him back," I said as another tear fell. "I never would. I know how talented he is, and he deserves to have that talent acknowledged and appreciated worldwide."

"Yet instead of working on that, he's on his way over here."

I sucked in a sharp breath, and despite everything I'd just said, despite your missing my birthday, and everything that happened on the phone a few days earlier, my heart soared at the thought of seeing you again. Because as much nonsense as I'd just spewed…I would've given us another chance.

"Oh, look at her eyes light up," Heidi taunted, reading me clearly and annihilating my momentary joy. "So ready to change her mind. And that's why I say you're leading him on."

"I'm not leading him on! But I…" I swallowed. "I…"

"You what?" she asked in a whisper. "You what?" she repeated, snorting. "You can't even say the words."

"Maybe I just don't want to say them to you!" I shouted.

She shrugged. "Either way, let me tell you how love ends in this business. It ends by either you instantly ruining his career when he gives that career up for you, a decision which he'll undoubtedly come to regret a few years down the line when he realizes everything he threw away. Or he'll try to make you and his music work, but your continued nagging will fuck with his talent, making him yesterday's news and a has-been quicker than you can say sorry. Or, he'll manage to balance both you and fame…for a while," she qualified, "and you'll try to be patient and understanding when he really skyrockets, as both you and I know he will. But then, all these complaints you have now will magnify. You think it's been tough being his girlfriend these past few months? Pfft, you'll remember these months as a honeymoon period. Name one world-famous rockstar who's still with his small-town sweetheart instead of with a different girl in every city. All those fights you were having before? They'll grow by exponents. And at that point, he won't give a damn what you have to say."

My heart twisted into a mangled piece of useless flesh. My lungs constricted until they became two pointless, inefficient wastes of space. Because Heidi's heartless, sickening, and appalling logic made horrific sense.

Love, the true kind, didn't fit in the world of music and bands. In a roundabout way, it was why we came up with the 'No Relationships' rule in Olympia.

It made sense. It made horrendous sense. I was holding you back.

And…and more than that, I knew how easily love could end. Even the man who'd raised me as his daughter for the first ten years of his life found it so simple, so easy to throw me away when the going got tough.

"When Edward gets here, do both of you a favor: set him free to be all he's meant to be. Break it off decisively, so he can deal with the heartbreak, put his initial anger and indignation to good use through his music or something," she shrugged, "and move on. And he will move on, Bella," she said confidently. "Right now, this indecisiveness of yours is simply torturing him and making him sound like shit, and he cannot afford that, emotionally or business-wise. You know who he's touring with, Bella," she snapped angrily at me. "That's a huge opportunity that musicians more experienced than him would kill for. Yet he's throwing it away right now," – she waved a hand around furiously – "on his way here instead of where he's supposed to be! They're losing their patience with him!"

"No," I breathed, shaking my head. "No, I don't want him to lose that…all his opportunities."

The last thing I'd ever wanted was to get in your way. But the thought of truly, of decisively breaking up with you, of never seeing you again… I realized then that I hadn't really considered it even after we fought on that phone. Not truly. Not permanently. In my subconscious, I'd always assumed we'd get back together.

Now…

My entire chest felt ready to implode. I wrapped my arms around myself. My temples throbbed. I struggled for every breath.

I couldn't do it. I couldn't. To live with this pain?

"I…I…"

Heidi must've sensed my momentary waiver, the doubt creeping in that I could honestly let you go…for good.

"Grow the fuck up, Bella!" she spat. "Stop being so fucking selfish! For once, think of what's best for him rather than for yourself before it's too late!"

With that, Heidi turned on her pointy heels and left.


A/N: Thoughts?

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