Edward

Dear Rose,

I almost made it out the door without the ring today…almost. I took it off before I showered, as always, and it stared at me while I dressed, prompting me to place it back onto its rightful place on my finger. I flirted with the idea: what if I got as far as the kitchen without it? But then when I poured my coffee, that naked spot reminded me. Distracting myself with my emails, I pushed it away, telling myself I could just cross the threshold but then I saw that picture of us in the hallway…then I backtracked, went and fetched the ring. I know you wouldn't want me to hold onto you, Rose. But I don't know how to let you go.

Why am I doing this?

Because I've never felt like wanting to move on. Because Bella might be the one for us…for me. She couldn't be more opposite of you…and maybe this is by design…because I wasn't meant to be with another version of you…but rather to experience love in a new way with a new person.

Love.

Is that what this is? Perhaps a version of it. Perhaps, I'm learning to love a part of myself that died with you.

She's got me composing again.

And she helps others

And she is frustrating and kind and irresistible.

Maybe you'd hate her.

Maybe you wouldn't.

This is all Renesmee's fault, and she loves her…

A text chimed…from Bella.

Great news! Charlie has an appointment with a specialist this week!

That is great news.

Sorry to bother you, Edward. I just wanted you to know. It's because of you, after all.

Team effort ;)

When he didn't receive a response from her, Edward's gaze returned to his letter. His client wasn't due for another 15 minutes. And though the ring still insisted on being on his finger, it didn't mean he had to hold on to all the other remnants of her.

After rereading, he saw that his letter to Rose had turned into a list—a list of pros for Bella. Why was he even mentioning her?

His gaze shifted to the picture of Renesmee and Rose on his desk—the one where they both wore beanies; he'd taken it when they went up to the mountains. Renesmee was two and a half years old at the time. It was then he decided that he needed to frame newer pictures—ones that wouldn't have Rose in them. He took a black wooden frame with the word Love on it, which featured a black and white photo of Rose staring off in the distance, like she was pondering the meaning of life. It had been one of his favorites. He took it in his hands and peered down at it, touching the glass of the frame.

I can let this go.

He placed it inside the desk drawer, closed it, and waited. To see whether the urge, like with the ring, would prompt him to return it to its proper location.

It hadn't. He eyed the small brass piano on the shelf by the door—a gift from her, a music box. He'd always loved it. It gave him a pang. This was from her. Did that mean he had to get rid of it? And what about the books? Did he have to get rid of those first editions that he'd cherished because she'd gotten them for him?

No, silly.

That was Rose's voice. Only the things that make you miss me. Didn't everything make him miss her? Once more, he looked down at his ring. It made him long to travel back in time to that night—to stop Rose from getting in the car, leaving her safely at home with Nessie as Edward ran to the party supply store himself. He halted that thought. As much as he'd wanted, he couldn't change the past. This line of thinking didn't help.

He took it off and placed it inside the drawer. This was an experiment—to see if he could get through this meeting without the reminder of her on his finger. After his client departed, he noticed that he had been able to do it, but once Edward got into his car, the ring's absence had become overwhelming. He ran back inside the office to fetch it, embarrassed by running into coworkers in the elevator and having to explain he'd forgotten something back in his office.

Her voice returned. You can do this, Edward. Leave the ring.

He shook his head. No. The association with the Volvo and Rose was still too strong. She'd picked out the color, the options, the creme upholstery…he could even imagine her sitting there on the passenger side, laughing at him. When he got back to the car with the ring on his finger, shame struck him like a snake. Was he so weak that after 5 years he still had to wear the ring?

Baby steps, she said.

Taking deep breaths, he nodded. Baby steps. Yes. He'd put away the picture. That was something. He'd had his toe in the proverbial doorway; he could now edge himself toward the path to moving on. To let her go.

When he returned home that night, he made himself be present with every item, every object, and piece of furniture and the recollection that they'd purchased these couches at the furniture store in town. This painting on their living room wall that she'd picked out—he'd never thought much of its bold colors but it matched the sofa cushions and the silk arrangement that sat in the corner. Everywhere he looked was a memory.

His phone rang, and his face lit up. "Hi, Ness."

"Hi, Daddy. How are you?"

"I'm fine. How are you? Are you having fun?"

"I'm having so much fun. Are you bringing Bella to my play next weekend?"

That girl had a one track mind. "We haven't discussed it. Hey, Ness, there's something I need to talk to you about." Edward wondered if he had the courage to tell her about his fake engagement…maybe it was better to wait until they were face to face. Why lift her hopes, after all? "I'm looking into some redecorating."

She gasped. "That's amazing! The house can really use a makeover."

He laughed but he wondered if she understood what this meant.

"It's okay, Daddy," she said. "Mom wouldn't want you to hold onto her stuff. It doesn't serve you."

Leave it to Nessie.

"Are you sure, Ness? Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Daddy, I don't want you to look around and see Mama everywhere you go. She doesn't want you to hold onto her anymore. She's happy."

Where did she get this stuff? "How can you be so sure?"

"I dream about her all the time. She tells me that I'm going to have a new mom and that we're going to be happy. So, stop wasting time. Get rid of the furniture or do whatever you need to do."

"What about her clothes?"

"Let them go, Daddy. Take the pictures and put them somewhere safe where we can see them when we want to. It's called making room."

"Maybe we can pick out some new things when you get back."

"Yes. But don't wait for me. Let the healing begin."

Let the healing begin.

"And ask Bella to come see my play. She hasn't answered me back yet."

So bossy. "Yes, I'll ask her, okay?"

"By the way, I know about your engagement."

"What?!"

"Aunt Esme…"

Oh no. "Listen, Ness, it's not what you think. We're just good friends."

"I know, Daddy. One thing at a time. First you let go of Mom and then make room for Bella."

How did she know this stuff?

"Okay, oh wise one."

He heard voices in the background saying her name, and she had to get off the phone. He told her loved her and missed her, and now with his daughter's blessing, he moved from one piece to the next, deciding whether he was ready to release it yet until he had a large box filled with knick knacks, some dishes he never cared for as well as wall hangings that were entirely too feminine. These were things he could let go of. This was a process, and at least he was on his way.

Bella

The spring time is a beautiful time for a wedding. And if it rains, we can have the ceremony inside. We'll rent tents…it will be gorgeous.

Bella sighed at Esme's text. She knew the woman meant well. Bella had made the mistake of answering one little text. She let her know that nothing had been decided. That should've been the end of it. Turned out to be only the beginning.

She began formulating her reply, considering how on earth she could knock Esme off the trail of wedding planning. I'm not sure Edward is ready, Esme.

The cursor blinked. Oh. I see.

Bingo!

She imagined all the questions this may have brought up, but Esme wouldn't dare ask, would she? It was the truth. Edward wasn't ready even for a relationship, let alone remarrying.

Bella missed him. She found herself glancing at her phone. She'd get through a block of editing, then something reminded her of him. Then she'd looked for the screenshot of an idea she had for a video and Edward and Renesmee's smiling faces appeared, and his name kept coming up in her mind. Even now, she was looking for an excuse to text him.

Edward… She stopped. She had nothing to say, nothing helpful, funny, or witty or anything other than the truth. She couldn't very well tell him that she'd engaged with Esme… especially after telling him that she wouldn't.

I miss you.

Don't send it. He's not ready. She backspaced and then a text came through from him. A picture of 3 boxes inside a garage.

Her heart sped up a little. She had no idea what she was looking at but he was thinking of her too.

Are you moving?

No. This is Rose's stuff. I'm just getting started.

Three big boxes meant that he was just getting started? Anyway, she smiled. Progress. Very good, Edward. Good for you.

Good for us, I hope.

Us? How much that word excited her. She really wanted there to be an us. Dare she ask: Can I help?

You know what? I think I would really like for you to come and meet her.

Her brows rose. Meet her?

She didn't know how this would go. When he invited her inside, he took her by the hand, and that same energy existed between them, but this was different; he was allowing Bella into a very personal side of himself. She looked around at the now blank walls, at the matching suede couches in the living room, the photos on the wall, leading up the staircase—one of Renesmee and a striking woman with blonde hair and violet eyes, very much like the young girl. Bella had only seen one with just Edward and her, and Renesmee had been very young. The rest were school pictures, spaced neatly in order by year.

He brought Bella into the bedroom where a large gold quilt and large framed pictures and photo albums covered most of the bed.

"I went through most of the house, but when I got to this room…I got stuck."

"Well, you must have had a lot of memories here."

"I do."

Spying the ring that sat stubbornly on his finger, Bella couldn't fault all that he'd accomplished despite it.

"I wanted you to see it." He stuck his hands inside his pockets. "That I'm trying."

Bella wanted to ask him who he was doing it for but held that question inside her mouth.

Edward showed her the photo albums from their wedding, from their life together—they'd married on a beach in Hawaii. Another showed pictures of him resting a hand against her swollen belly, followed by photos of her holding a newborn, Renesmee, just a small pink bundle with a pink beanie. The progression changed from baby to toddler, until the final one, with his late wife, holding Renesmee's small hand in hers, and lifting a flower to her nose with the other. The woman was very beautiful, and Bella could see how much he loved her and how it must have been so difficult to let go of such an idyllic past.

When she looked up at him, his lips were pressed together. "I…never told anyone this…but she'd just found out she was pregnant. Then…the accident…"

Bella's hand flew to her mouth and she ran into his embrace. "Oh, Edward. I'm so sorry. So, you're grieving her and…" She couldn't bring herself to say the words.

"We'd put a bid on a home over an hour away, a four bedroom, two-story house with a big yard… and…it all just fell apart. Ness never knew she was going to be a big sister…"

His hand lay limply on her back and she pressed herself tight against him. "You're grieving so much. You had to let go of your wife, your role as a husband."

Their eyes met, and he met his mouth with hers, and as much as the fire stirred inside of her, she had to stop him. This was hardly the place for such a connection…on the bed he had shared with his wife. The photos and memories saturated the air like heavy perfume.

"Edward…"

"I want you, Bella, so badly." He pressed his forehead to hers.

"I want you, too, Edward. But this isn't the place."

He looked around, now, as though he'd forgotten where he was. "Of course not. I'm sorry." He looked down at his ring as though it was burning the skin on his finger. "Maybe you should go."

"Why don't you take a break? Let's go out and get some dinner." Bella wanted to invite him back to her place, but worried it was too soon.

"No. This was a big step for me. Bringing you here, introducing you to her."

"Baby steps."

"Yes."

"I appreciate that…so much. I admire what you're doing, Edward. Just remember—healing doesn't happen overnight. It takes time. You're on the right track."

He walked her to her car, his fingers intertwined with hers. "Can we see each other again soon? Not as friends?"

"Not as friends?"

"More than friends, I mean."

She squeezed his hand and leaned up to kiss him, feeling the electricity shoot through her. "I hope that we can always be friends and much more. So much more."

Bella lay in bed that night, thinking of him and those electric kisses when the text came through on her phone.

I wanted to say goodnight, my "more than" friend.

I'm so glad you did. Thank you for having me over today, Edward.

He sent her an emoji with a heart.

She wanted to write that she loved him, but it was still too soon. Now that they reached this point in their relationship, she smiled to herself.

Talk to you tomorrow. Good night, Edward. Sweet dreams.

Good night, Bella. I'll be dreaming of you.

A/N: Baby steps for Edward and progress! Stay with me! I am so grateful to EdwardsFirstKiss for her help with this chapter, to you for reading, and to the reviewers, It is a beautiful thing to know when the story impacts you, and it means a lot!