The aurora split the horizon, soft pastel ribbons of green and blue blending into edges of violet. The starlight glittered above, scattering across the earth like fractured glass, bathing the swaying trees in pale light. Below, the half-frozen lake reflected the colours in rippling fragments, a shattered mirror of the sky.
Bella stood at the summit of the trail, her breath visible in the frigid air. The faint crunch-scrunch of her boots on packed ice had been her only companion on the climb, but now, even that sound faded. In the stillness of early morning, the silence felt vast, almost sacred.
This was what she had come here for—a moment of quiet, far from the noise of her past.
Her chest tightened as she stared out at the horizon, tension building like an overfull dam. The weight of everything—Edward's departure, the Cullens' abandonment, the gaping hollowness they had left behind—pressed down on her. For a year, she had carried that weight, pretending she could hold it together, pretending she could move on.
Here in the dark, the quiet, the cold—she didn't have to pretend anymore.
Some people could cry prettily, all soft vulnerability and grace, doe eyes rimmed red and shoulders shaking. Bella was not one of those people. She cried like the world was ending. The first sob ripped through her like a storm breaking. It was raw, jagged, and ugly. Her face twisted, her body bowed, and she clutched at her jacket like it could keep her from unravelling entirely. Hot tears streaked her cheeks, freezing almost instantly in the cold air. She cried until her chest ached, until her body sagged under the effort of releasing everything she had been holding back.
When it was over, she drew in a deep, shuddering breath. The silence returned, but it wasn't the same. It felt less oppressive now, less overwhelming.
The young woman who had climbed this mountain wasn't the same as the one now standing at its peak. Like a snake shedding its skin, she had left something behind—something broken and jagged, no longer a part of her.
Bella wiped her face on her sleeve, ignoring the sting of frozen tears. She stood tall, squaring her shoulders. One last glance at the horizon, one final goodbye to the part of herself that had clung so desperately to the past.
Then she turned, her boots crunching against the snow as she began the descent. The path back down was familiar, though her steps felt lighter now, more purposeful. She didn't have everything figured out—not by a long shot—but she had taken the first step.
Ahead of her, nestled in the valley below, was the small apartment she now called home. Beyond that, the university campus and the beginning of a new chapter.
She didn't look back.