Edward's POV

Edward leaned back against the worn leather booth in Carver Café, his gaze distant as he absently stirred the remnants of his coffee. The small town of Forks had always had a way of stirring memories that he had tried to bury, but tonight, they were particularly insistent, clawing their way to the surface with a force that left him feeling raw and exposed.

The day had been long, filled with a growing sense of unease that he couldn't quite shake. Visiting Forks, walking through the familiar streets, had felt like stepping back in time, to a life that seemed almost like a dream. A dream where Bella was still with him, where her laughter filled the air and her touch was a constant presence that grounded him. But that dream had shattered long ago, leaving him adrift in a world that no longer felt real.

Edward sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. He had sought solace in the café, hoping that the mundane act of having dinner might distract him from the relentless thoughts that plagued his mind. But even here, he couldn't escape her. The meal in front of him, untouched and now cold, was a painful reminder of her absence. He had ordered Bella's favorite—mushroom ravioli—without even thinking, the choice instinctive. The aroma of the dish had brought back a flood of memories, each one sharper than the last.

He could see her so clearly in his mind, the way her eyes had lit up with excitement when they first visited this very café, the way she had savored each bite with a contented smile. Bella had loved the simple things, finding joy in moments that others might overlook. Edward had admired that about her, had loved the way she made everything around her seem brighter, more vibrant. But now, the memory only served to deepen the ache in his chest, a hollow void that refused to be filled.

Pushing the plate away, Edward tossed a few bills onto the table and stood, the legs of the chair scraping against the floor as he did. The café was quiet, the few other patrons scattered throughout the room barely acknowledging his departure. He made his way to the door, pausing for a moment to glance back at the booth where he had sat. The empty seat across from him seemed to mock him, a reminder of what he had lost.

With a heavy sigh, Edward stepped out into the cool night air, the familiar scent of rain-soaked earth and pine filling his lungs. The sky was overcast, the moon hidden behind a thick layer of clouds, casting the town in a dim, ethereal light. He pulled his coat tighter around him and started walking, his steps slow and measured as he made his way back to the small house he had rented on the outskirts of town.

The drive home had been uneventful, the miles slipping by in a blur as his mind drifted back to Bella. Even after all these years, she was still at the forefront of his thoughts, a constant presence that he couldn't escape. But tonight, there was something different, something that gnawed at him, a sense of foreboding that he couldn't quite place.

When he finally reached his house, Edward wasted no time in heading inside. The small space was dark, the only light coming from the dim lamp in the corner of the living room. He shrugged off his coat, tossing it onto the back of the couch before making his way to the bathroom. The shower was a welcome relief, the hot water easing the tension in his muscles as he leaned against the cool tile, his eyes closed.

But even here, Bella's presence lingered. He could almost feel her beside him, the memory of her touch a ghostly echo that sent a shiver down his spine. He stayed in the shower longer than necessary, hoping the water would wash away the thoughts that plagued him, but when he finally stepped out, he felt no more at peace than when he had entered.

Dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a simple gray t-shirt, Edward made his way to the small table that served as his makeshift office. His fingers trailed over the spines of the books arranged neatly on the surface—Bella's books. He had treasured them over the years, each one a reminder of the girl who had stolen his heart and never given it back. The worn covers and dog-eared pages told a story of their own, a story of love, loss, and the desperate hope that someday, somehow, she would return.

With a sigh, Edward turned away from the table and grabbed his laptop, bringing it with him as he moved to the bed. He settled against the pillows, the screen casting a soft glow in the dark room as he opened his emails. He scrolled through the messages absently, his mind only half-focused on the words in front of him.

It was then that he heard it—the soft creak of the door as it opened slowly. Edward's heart skipped a beat, his eyes snapping up from the screen as he looked toward the doorway. For a moment, he thought he was dreaming, that his mind had finally betrayed him in the cruelest way possible. But there she was, standing in the doorway, her figure bathed in the soft light of the lamp.

"Bella?" The word slipped from his lips before he could stop it, his voice a mix of disbelief and desperation. He couldn't trust his eyes, couldn't believe what he was seeing. But there she was, as real as the day she had left, looking just as she had all those years ago. She was ethereal, her pale skin almost glowing in the dim light, her hair falling in soft waves around her face. She was perfect, untouched by time, and yet… she was different.

Bella took a step forward, her eyes never leaving his. "Edward," she replied, her voice soft and filled with something he couldn't quite place—regret, sadness, longing. It was all there, in the way she said his name, in the way she looked at him as if she was afraid he might disappear if she blinked.

"There's something I need to tell you..."

Edward didn't think. He didn't need to. In an instant, he was out of the bed, crossing the room in a blur of movement until he was in front of her. He reached out, his hands trembling as they cupped her face, his fingers brushing against the cool, smooth skin of her cheeks. She was real. She was here. Bella was alive.

A sob tore from his throat, the sound ragged and raw as he pulled her into his arms, holding her tight against him as if his life depended on it. And maybe it did. "You're alive," he whispered, his voice breaking as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. "Oh God, Bella, you're alive."

Bella's arms wrapped around him, her hands rubbing soothing circles on his back as she whispered apologies, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Edward. I'm so, so sorry."

Edward's grip tightened, his hands fisting in the fabric of her shirt as if letting go would mean losing her all over again. He couldn't believe it, couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that she was here, in his arms, alive and breathing. She felt the same, smelled the same—like home, like the one thing he had been searching for all these years. And yet, there was something different, something he couldn't quite place.

"Bella," he choked out, his voice trembling with the weight of his emotions. "I need to know. What happened? Why? How?" His hands moved to her face, cradling it gently as if she were made of glass, as if she might shatter if he wasn't careful.

Bella looked up at him, her eyes—a deep, molten gold—filled with a sadness that made his heart ache. He had never seen her like this, so vulnerable, so broken. It was as if the weight of the world was pressing down on her, and he could see the struggle in her eyes, the fear that he might not understand.

"Edward, we should sit down," she whispered, her voice soft and trembling.

He nodded, still holding her hand as they moved to the bed. He settled beside her, their knees touching, as he waited, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her, couldn't stop the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. But he needed to know. He needed answers.

Bella took a deep breath, her hand shaking slightly as she reached up to touch his face, her thumb brushing lightly over his cheek. "I didn't want to leave you," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "That day… when I went to the bookstore… something felt off. I felt like someone was watching me. I should have trusted my instincts, but I didn't. I thought I was just being paranoid."

Edward's heart tightened at the thought of her being in danger, of her feeling alone and scared. He wanted to say something, to comfort her, but he couldn't find the words. So he listened, his hand never leaving hers.

"On my way home, my truck sputtered," Bella continued, her voice growing fainter. "I pulled over to the side of the road, but it came to a stop. I was stranded, and it was getting dark. That's when I saw him… the man with the red eyes."

Edward's breath hitched, a wave of cold fear washing over him. He knew what red eyes meant. He knew the danger she had been in. "Bella…"

She shook her head, squeezing his hand as if to stop him from saying anything. "I couldn't remember what happened after that, not clearly. But I remember his teeth… on my neck. The pain… it was excruciating. And then… nothing. When I woke up, I wasn't the same. I couldn't remember who I was, not really. My throat was burning, and I was so thirsty. I didn't know what to do, so I hid. I hid in a cave for days, maybe weeks, trying to figure out what had happened to me."

Her voice broke, and Edward felt his own heart shatter at the pain in her words. He could see the tears in her eyes, though they didn't fall. She was holding back, trying to be strong, but he knew how much this was hurting her.

"Then, one day, I couldn't take it anymore. The thirst… it was unbearable. I attacked a deer… I drank its blood, Edward. I didn't know what I had become. I was terrified of myself. And all the while, bits and pieces of my memories were coming back—memories of you, of Charlie. But I knew I couldn't come back. Not like that. Not after what I had become."

Edward's hand tightened around hers, his heart breaking with every word. She had been alone, scared, and confused, and he hadn't been there to help her. He had failed her. "Bella," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You didn't have to go through that alone."

"I know," she replied, her voice barely audible. "But I didn't know what else to do. I was different, Edward. I'm different now."

She looked up at him, her golden eyes searching his for understanding. "I'm a vampire now," she said, the words heavy with finality. "I met the Cullens five years after my disappearance. They helped me… they taught me how to live off animals, how to control my thirst. But I couldn't reveal myself to you. Not after what I had done. I killed a person once, Edward. When I was crazed with thirst, I killed someone."

Edward's breath caught in his throat, but before he could say anything, she continued, her voice breaking with emotion. "I'm not the same person I was, and I didn't want to hurt you. That's why I stayed away."

Edward was silent for a long moment, his mind reeling with everything she had told him. She was a vampire now, something he had never imagined. But as he looked at her, at the pain and fear in her eyes, all he could feel was love. She was still Bella, still the girl he had fallen in love with all those years ago. And he didn't care what she had become. He just cared that she was here, with him.

"Bella," he said softly, his hand moving to cup her face. "I don't care. I don't care what you are. You're still the girl I love, the girl I've been searching for all these years. And nothing will ever change that."

Bella's eyes widened in shock, her lips parting in surprise. "Edward…"

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers as he spoke, his voice filled with a desperate kind of love. "You're back now, and that's all that matters. I don't care what you've done. I don't care who you are now. I love you, Bella, and nothing will ever change that. I would sacrifice everything—my life, my soul, an entire town—just to keep you with me."

Bella shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. "Edward, you can't…"

"I can," he insisted, his voice fierce. "I can, and I will. I love you, Bella, and I'm not going to let you go again. We can do this. We can be together. You said you live off animals now, right? We can make this work. The Cullens helped you, and they'll help us. We can be together, Bella. Please… stay with me."

For a moment, Bella was silent, her eyes searching his, as if looking for any sign of hesitation, any sign that he didn't mean what he was saying. But all she found was love, pure and unconditional. With a soft sob, she leaned into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she buried her face in his chest.

"Edward, I don't deserve you," she whispered, her voice muffled against his shirt.

"You deserve everything," he replied, his voice soft and tender as he kissed the top of her head. "You're my everything, Bella. And I'm never letting you go again."

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, wrapped in each other's arms, the weight of their past and their pain melting away in the warmth of their embrace. For the first time in years, Edward felt whole again, as if the missing piece of his heart had finally been returned to him.

Bella pulled back slightly, her eyes still filled with tears as she looked up at him. "We'll figure this out together," she said, her voice filled with determination. "We'll make this work."

Edward nodded, his heart swelling with love for the woman in his arms. "Together," he agreed, his voice soft but firm. "We'll figure this out, Bella. We'll make it work. I promise."

And for the first time in a long time, Edward felt a sense of peace, a sense of hope. Bella was back, and no matter what challenges they might face, he knew they could overcome them. Because they had each other, and that was all that mattered.

As the night wore on, Edward's heart was still racing, the whirlwind of emotions from Bella's sudden return making it difficult to think straight. The weight of everything she'd told him—everything she had been through—pressed heavily on his chest. Yet, amid the chaos, a profound sense of relief settled over him, warming his heart. She was here. She was alive. And nothing else mattered.

Bella looked up at him, her eyes soft and tender, a slight smile on her lips that spoke of a shared understanding, a deep connection that had withstood the test of time and tragedy. "Edward," she whispered, her voice laced with concern. "You need to sleep."

Edward knew she was right. He could feel the exhaustion creeping in, the weight of nine years without her pulling at his very soul. But the thought of closing his eyes, even for a moment, filled him with an almost irrational fear. What if this was all a dream? What if he woke up and she was gone again, leaving him alone in the darkness?

"I don't want to sleep," he admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I'm afraid that if I close my eyes, I'll wake up and you won't be here. That this will all have been just another cruel trick of my mind."

Bella's expression softened even more as she reached up to gently cup his face, her thumb brushing lightly across his cheek. "I'm right here, Edward. And I'm not going anywhere. If I could sleep, I would sleep right beside you, just to prove it to you."

Her words, spoken with such sincerity, brought a surge of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. He needed her, needed to feel her beside him, to know that she was real. Without hesitation, Edward patted the bed beside him. "Then lie down with me," he said, his voice thick with longing. "Stay with me."

Bella nodded, her hand still holding his as she moved to lie down beside him on the bed. Edward followed suit, and as he settled against the pillows, he opened his arms for her. Without a moment's hesitation, Bella moved into his embrace, her body fitting perfectly against his, as if they had been made for each other. She hugged him tightly, her head resting against his chest, the steady rhythm of her breathing grounding him in the reality of the moment.

Edward tightened his arms around her, his heart swelling with a mix of love, relief, and something more—something deeper that he couldn't quite put into words. He lowered his head, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the familiar scent that he had missed for so long. He kissed her hair, then her cheek, the touch of his lips soft and tender, a silent promise that he would never let her go again.

But as his lips brushed against hers in a brief, feather-light peck, something within him shifted. The taste of her lips, the warmth of her breath against his skin—it ignited a fire within him that he had almost forgotten existed. Nine years of longing, of heartache, of searching for something he thought he had lost forever—all of it came rushing back in a flood of emotion that he could no longer hold back.

With a quiet groan, Edward deepened the kiss, his hand moving to cup the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair as he pulled her closer. Bella responded instantly, her body pressing against his as their kiss grew more passionate, more desperate. It was as if they were both trying to make up for all the lost time, to reclaim what had been stolen from them.

Edward's mind spun with the intensity of it all, the feel of her lips, the taste of her mouth—everything was so real, so vivid, that it almost overwhelmed him. He needed her more than he had ever needed anything in his life. But even as the kiss deepened, as their breaths mingled and their hearts pounded in unison, Edward knew he had to stop. The last thing he wanted was to rush things, to let the heat of the moment consume them when there was still so much they needed to talk about.

With a monumental effort, Edward pulled back, breaking the kiss, though his forehead remained pressed against hers. His breath came in ragged gasps as he fought to regain control, his heart hammering in his chest. "Bella…" he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too," she replied, her voice equally breathless, her eyes shining with a mix of love and longing. "So much."

Edward held her close, his hand stroking her hair as he tried to calm the storm of emotions swirling within him. Everything about this moment felt like a dream—a beautiful, perfect dream. But it wasn't. It was real. She was real. And he wasn't going to let her go again.

He pressed another soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin. "Tomorrow," he said quietly, his voice filled with determination, "we'll talk more. There's so much I need to know, so much we need to figure out."

Bella nodded, her arms tightening around him. "Yes," she agreed softly. "Tomorrow."

But for now, all he wanted was to hold her, to feel her beside him, to reassure himself that this wasn't just a cruel illusion. As he buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent, a sense of peace washed over him—a peace he hadn't felt in nine long years.

And as he drifted off to sleep, his arms wrapped securely around her, Edward knew one thing for certain: Bella was back, and he would never let her go again. Not ever.

THE REUNION!

Robbert Pattinson looking like Edward Cullen in 2024 is what inspired me to write this book. LMAO