The world feels so v bleak right now but grateful for all of you.

.
thirty-three
i can do it with a broken heart
.

I give myself four days to wallow.

Four days to avoid work, life, and responsibilities to indulge my aching heart.

I stay home, hide in my room with Lucy, avoid Jas, and watch movies that make me cry.

I'm kicking myself when I'm down, but that's the way I've always operated. When I feel too much, I make myself feel more—the most. And then I get through it. I always do. There isn't another choice.

On my fourth day at home, Jasper looks concerned when he finds me on the couch. I wouldn't have left my room, but I'm trying to leave my slump, and the sofa is as far as I've made it.

He sits on the arm of the couch because there are so many candy wrappers taking over the available cushions.

"What's going on?" he asks, eyeing me. "Did you get fired?"

I laugh once and pause The Notebook. "No. Heidi loves me. Even though she constantly threatens to fire me, she doesn't mean it."

"Are you sick?"

"Of you? Yeah."

He flinches. "Okay, not fired and not sick. What gives?"

"This is what heartbreak looks like. Not that you'd recognize it because you've never opened up to someone long enough to deal with it before," I mutter. "Try it sometime. It's awful."

My words don't sting him. "Maybe stop watching depressing movies," he suggests.

"Don't be dense. It's not about the movies. It's about Edward. He knows the truth about who I am and wants nothing to do with me now. And I can't even blame him."

"Shit—what?" Jas looks more concerned than I thought he would. "How did he find out?"

"From me. I told him because I tell the truth, unlike you," I toss out, earning a glare from him. "Now that we're talking again, you should know I'm going to Forks this weekend."

Despite my temporary emo mood, I've kept my plans with Jane because having something to look forward to has been crucial.

Jas frowns. "Why?"

"To talk to Jane. I want to know if she has an idea who got Rosalie pregnant."

I say it simply because I don't give a fuck anymore.

No more secrets. No more hiding and lies.

It feels good, and I can feel myself slowly returning to life.

Jasper stays quiet, so I word vomit.

"The night I came clean to Edward, he told me Rosalie was pregnant, but the baby wasn't his because she cheated. I'm not going to ask if you already knew any of that because I know you'll lie," I say, watching him too closely in case something in his expression gives him away. I get nothing from him, though. "By the way, Jackson thinks you're a suspect and did a whole episode on why you're sketchy. He also hired someone to follow me, so you're probably next if he hasn't already stalked you," I add. "Man, this whole honesty thing feels good. A little unhinged, but refreshing."

"Jackson's running his mouth about me?" he asks, and I roll my eyes because that's all he took away from what I just said.

"A little, yeah. I originally defended you, but it turns out you are hiding something, so I'm not sure who the bad guy is anymore."

"Jackson is. He's a piece of shit," Jasper says hotly.

"Hey, look at us—agreeing on something for once," I sarcastically offer.

"How long will you be like this?" he asks.

"How long am I going to be rightfully pissed at you for being evasive and admitting you've lied to me about something and sneaking out of state for two weeks?" I ask rhetorically, listing off his crimes. "I don't know. A while. You could expedite the whole process by telling me what you're supposedly hiding, but I doubt you will."

"It's not my shit to tell," he says vaguely. "It doesn't just affect you and me."

"Is it about Rosalie?" I ask, and when he doesn't answer, I say, "Who else would it affect?"

"Everyone. Everything."

"If it's helpful to the case, why wouldn't you tell anyone?"

"Because… because I promised Rose."

He looks guiltier than ever when he says it.

"Promised her what?" I push. "You're driving me crazy with all of this!"

"I just… I need a little more time to figure everything out," he says, almost desperate. "It's not my choice, Isa. Please understand that."

"Time? You've had twenty fucking years to tell me and Dad whatever the fuck you're hiding. And you want more time?"

"I know it doesn't make sense, but—"

"No, it doesn't. I mean, I almost wonder if any of this is real. Is this just something you made up in a drunk delusion?" I ask cruelly, then immediately feel like shit from the way he looks like I verbally slapped him.

"I haven't drank in weeks. Since my birthday."

This is news to me. I waffle between feeling proud and even more confused because if he's been sober, then I really don't understand what is going on.

I start to soften but catch myself because I don't want this sliver of good news to sidetrack me.

"Look, I'm happy to hear that. I really am," I mumble. "But until you tell me what's weighing on you and whatever you're hiding, I'm not sure we need to talk at all."

"That's fair," he agrees, which just further pisses me off because he's not even trying to rectify this tense situation.

"Great. So, to clarify, you're choosing to keep a promise to your sister who is no longer here and ruin your relationship with the one who is," I say, flat and hurt. "Glad to know where I rank in your life, Jas."

He swallows but says nothing.

His silence is loud and clear, though.

I turn off the TV and gather my ridiculous amount of trash, willing myself not to cry as I get up.

When I get to the kitchen entryway, I turn around to glance at him. He at least looks as miserable as I feel.

"I'm moving out," I say, resigned but oddly determined.

"You don't have to do that. I don't want you to do that."

"I want to. For my sanity. I just don't like you very much right now."

"I don't like myself either," he mutters.

I shake my head, not willing to indulge his self-pity. "Then fucking do something about it."

XXX

Edward texts me while I'm in bed later that night.

It's sad how quickly I open it.

Edward: Can we talk?

Bella: Yeah.

He surprises me by FaceTiming instead of calling, and I answer without hesitation.

"Hey," I say, hoping I don't sound and look as pitiful as I feel.

He looks good, even though his hair is a wreck, and he seems a little broody. Sitting on his couch, he looks more like he belongs on the cover of a magazine than on my phone screen.

"Nice shirt," he comments because I'm wearing the one he loaned me. My cheeks burn because I more or less just told him I'm still his. When I don't reply, he says, "Sorry, I didn't know you were in bed, so I'll keep this quick."

"You don't have to." God, I wonder if he can smell my desperation through the line. "Wait, let me get my earbuds. I don't want Jas to hear anything."

Edward nods, and I leave the mattress, grabbing corded earbuds from my dresser since I can't find my AirPods.

When I'm back in bed, Lucy must be curled somewhere in my comforter because I hear her meow, like she's annoyed by my movements. I laugh when I see her little head poking out from my duvet.

"What's so funny?" Edward asks, curious.

I stick my earbuds in and flip the camera so he can see Lucy cuddled in her cozy cave.

When Edward chuckles, the sound is deep and melodic in my ears.

"Anyway." I turn the camera back to me. "What's up?"

"Yeah, I just…" He pauses. "I've been thinking about it and want to go to Forks with you."

"You do? Why?"

"I'm curious about what Jane will say."

Even if it's true, I feel like there's more behind his reason why. Or maybe I just want it to mean more.

"I said I'd let you know whatever I learn," I remind him.

"I know. I just think it'll be good if I'm there."

"You don't think I can handle it alone?" I probe.

"That's not it."

"Then what is it?"

He hesitates, his face neutral. "I thought you'd be okay with me going."

"Why? Because you think I'm just sitting around, pining for you and waiting for you to change your mind about me?" I blurt.

Oh, God, I sound salty. Like I've been closed off from the world for four days, eating junk food in front of the TV and wearing his shirt. I mean, I have, but I don't want him to know that.

"Bella."

I rein in it. "Sorry, sorry. Forget I said all of that. I had a bad interaction with Jasper earlier, and I think I'm still in a shitty mood."

"What happened?"

"He just…" I groan. "Nothing. It's fine."

"You can tell me."

"Okay, well…" I lower my voice. "He basically said whatever he's keeping from me is something he promised Rosalie and can't tell me because it'll ruin everything."

"Ruin what?" Edward asks, sounding and looking as irritated as I feel.

"Exactly. How much worse can things get? He at least seemed to feel bad, but not enough to come clean."

"I don't think you should talk to Jasper about any of this anymore," Edward says, worry etched on his handsome face. "Does he know you're going to Forks?"

"Yeah. In hindsight, maybe I shouldn't have told him, but I also just wanted to piss him off and scare him a little."

"Really? That doesn't sound like you at all," Edward jokes.

He jokes.

I fight a smile even though he's fully smirking, and my heart bounces.

"Ha ha," I say dryly. "I'm circumstantially crazy. Once this mess is solved, I'm going to be so boring. So normal."

Edward exhales a laugh. "You don't need to change."

It's a sweet thing to say, but I don't let myself read into it. "What's your angle for going to Forks with me?"

"Why do I have to have an angle?"

"Well, you didn't seem interested when I mentioned it the other day," I point out. "Are you trying to play good cop, bad cop with Jane? Because I guess that can work. You're the good cop, though. You don't have enough of an attitude to intimidate."

"I can be intimidating," he counters, looking offended. "For weeks, you thought I was a murderer. You wouldn't have thought that if I looked approachable."

"Yeah, that theory went right out the window when we started interacting. And if you don't seem approachable, it's because of your insane looks. Not your demeanor," I confess. "Wait, on second thought, yeah. You coming to Forks might be good. Maybe you can dazzle the truth out of Jane."

"Whatever," he scoffs, but he smiles a little. "I know you can handle it alone, but I'm worried Jackson might follow you there, okay?"

He makes a good point since this little visit to Jane was Jackson's original idea, but it still takes everything in me not to giddily kick against the mattress and scream that he's feeling protective of me.

"I just want to help," Edward adds when I've stayed silent—not for lack of words but for fear of overreaction. "I don't like how shit went with him, and I feel like he's desperate enough for a story that he won't leave you alone."

I read between the lines, getting the vibe that Edward's saying he cares about me in a roundabout way. It makes my heart squeeze with hope, but his words from days ago are branded in my mind.

I can't.

It doesn't matter if he's protective of me; he still doesn't want anything romantic. So, I dampen my feelings for him and stay on topic.

"Okay. I'll message Jane and let her know you're coming with me. I'm taking the noon ferry on Friday, but we should probably drive separately because I'm staying until Sunday," I tell him.

I figured getting some space from Jasper would be nice, especially since I just did my big one by telling him I'm moving out. I meant it, though. I might stay with Dad or Chelsea for a few months until I find a new place, but I'm moving out once I'm back from Forks.

"That's fine. We can drive together," Edward insists.

"Mmm, I don't think so. You probably won't let me drive, and I refuse to be subjected to awkward silence while Pete drives us."

"I'll drive us," he offers. "Pete is on leave right now anyway. His wife had their baby last week."

"Wait, really? What'd they have?"

"A little girl named Sophia. He sent some pictures, and she looks like an angry alien."

I laugh softly. "That's the perfect description for newborns. Did you get them anything? One of the ladies at work had a baby recently—I can send you some ideas for must-have gifts."

"I just bought everything that was left on their registry."

"Of course, you did," I tease. "Can't just send one blanket or a stuffed animal. You send an entire registry."

"To be fair, there wasn't much left," he defends. "Just wanted to make sure they got what they wanted."

"Mmhmm."

"Did we decide I'm driving to Forks or what?" he asks, veering us back on topic.

"Not to be a punk, but do you even have a license?"

"Yes," he says with an annoyed laugh. "I never let it expire."

"Okay, but do you remember how to drive?"

"It's like riding a bike."

I laugh. "Except it's not, and it's a car."

"I'm kidding. You'll be completely safe with me, okay?" he says, making my insides light up because I know I will be. "I'll pick you up at 10:30 on Friday."

"Wait, wait, wait. Are you sure you want to be alone in the car with me?" I ask, genuinely surprised he'd allow it.

"It's fine."

"Okay, but I don't want you to be uncomfortable, and I know you have a thing about it."

"What are you gonna do? Accuse me of murder?" he asks, surprising me with his dark humor.

"I don't know. It depends on how feisty I'm feeling on Friday," I toss back, then immediately worry it's too far, too soon. "No. I'll be the best copilot ever. I'll even let you pick the music."

He scoffs, biting back a grin like he's enjoying talking to me. "Let me? The driver always gets to pick the music."

"Uh, no. The copilot does. The driver should stay focused on the road, and the copilot needs something to entertain them."

"Agree to disagree."

"Disagree to disagree," I say instead, fighting a laugh.

"Fine. Doesn't matter anyway since you said I can pick the music. Send me some of your favorite songs so I can make sure not to play them."

"God, stop flirting with me," I tease.

His grin is so fucking sexy and blatantly flirtatious. "Oh, I'm not. I think you have a skewed idea of flirting."

"No, I don't. I know exactly when a man is flirting with me. Yours just comes in the form of banter and teasing. And it's my fucking favorite."

He doesn't say anything, and his grin slowly fades.

Okay, so it was pretty forward of me, and my heart is still on my sleeve. But I don't know how to be any other way around him.

"Anyway. I'll see you in a few days. I promise I won't blurt more stupid things like that," I say. "If I do, feel free to leave me on the side of the road."

"It's not stupid, Bella. But yeah, I'll see you Friday."

"Okay." I pause, but neither of us ends the video call. "We're really doing this? Working together to find the truth?"

"Yeah, I guess we are," he muses.

"What if we don't find out anything new?"

"Then nothing changes."

I chew on my bottom lip. "Is it dumb that I'm kind of scared?"

"Of what?" he asks gently, his eyes tender.

"The truth. I mean, I doubt we'll get all of the answers, but…"

He thinks about it, then says, "It's understandable. I'm not really sure what to expect, either. But whatever happens in Forks… I'll be there with you."

He says it so sweetly and softly, and I hold those comforting words close. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me."

"I feel like I do, though. After everything I did? And you're still here, willing to talk and be here for me, and I know I don't deserve that."

"You had your reasons, and I know you weren't malicious," he says, voice velvet and so understanding. "You're all bark and no bite."

"Hey, I have some bite," I weakly counter, blinking tears away so he won't see. "Or I did. Until you made me soft."

"It's tough not to make a joke right now," he says, torn.

"Just do it."

"I can't."

"What would you say—that I make you hard?"

His brows raise. "It was pretty obvious, huh?"

I laugh despite my aching heart. "I basically set it up for you." He groans and shakes his head. "What?" I urge.

"I miss you." Even though he admitted this days ago after I first said it, it feels different now. "I miss how easy it felt with us," he says quickly, and I'm not sure if he's just adding to his initial sentiment or correcting it.

I bite my tongue from saying it's still easy with us because he needs to see and feel it himself. I can't just tell him.

"You should hate me," I mumble instead.

"Yeah, well, I already told you I don't. I don't think I ever could, Bella."

I want to ask if he forgives me, but I'm worried about pushing this too far. He's already agreeing to go to Forks and slowly starting to warm up to me again. And he misses me. That's huge.

Instead of asking about forgiveness, I bring up the other F-word.

"So, if you don't hate me, it's safe to say we're friends?" I whisper, desperate for something.

"Yeah," he agrees, swallowing, but his voice and expression lack the warmth it held before. "Friends."