The Volvo smelled… really fucking awful. My nose scrunched up, and I began eying the backseat for the source of the offensive odor. I had more discarded fast food bags than I'd ever willingly allow anyone else to see. It had to be that something that just… really fucking smelled, and it was going to drive me out of the car if I couldn't find it.

"It's yo-ou," a sing-song voice teased from my side and my jaw locked. I closed my eyes and sunk into my seat with deep and calming breaths. She's not here. I chanted over and over in my mind, and when my eyes opened, they were gazing right into Bella's.

"Yes, I am," she whispered with a smirk and leaned back into the passenger seat, her red skirt spilling over my upholstery and tainting it with wrong.

"No. You're not," I repeated while avoiding her gaze, then added in a barely audible whisper, "And I don't smell." Right? That was going to make a shitty impression-if any impressions were made today, that is.

She snorted, and I successfully resisted the urge to stare at her legs, or lean in and smell her curly hair. Fucking imposter. The first time she appeared in my passenger seat, I'd been driving and I'd nearly wrapped the Volvo around a fucking telephone pole. Now, she just "decides" to spring up out of nowhere… sporadically. Annoyingly.

"Yes you do."

Shit. Not one of these again.

"No, I don't." I sighed, still refusing to meet her gaze.

"Do too," she countered with a chirp, and I could hear her clothing shift as she moved closer to my side. I inwardly scoffed. Like Bella would ever chirp.

"Do not," I huffed in annoyance, willing her to leave while squeezing the steering wheel in frustration. I didn't want to put up with this bullshit today.

"Do too, do too, do too!" she repeated obnoxiously close to my ear.

My hands gripped the steering wheel roughly as her voice kept repeating "Do too" until I couldn't handle it anymore. "Shut the fuck up!" I snapped, finally meeting her gaze with a glare. Fuck, she was such an annoying bitch.

Her red lips fell into a pout, and she pivoted her body to lean her head against the glass window. "You hurt my feelings," she whispered with a frown, shifting her gaze to her hands in her lap and putting on a good show-like always. The sight of that expression on my girl's face brought a perfunctory pang to my chest, but only because it was instinctual. I had to remind myself that this wasn't Bella. She had no feelings to hurt.

I rolled my eyes and shifted my gaze back to the building. "You know, this is a bad time for me. Come back when I'm in the general vicinity of something sharp, so I can gauge my fucking eyes out," I replied absently as my eyes scanned the street one more time. The sun had just risen, and the sky was bathed in soft hues of orange and pink. Springtime in Chicago.

"Edward," she tisked disapprovingly while propping her foot up on my dash. I sneered sideways in annoyance, and it seemed to please her. "Must you be so cruel to your own psyche?" She smirked knowingly as I struggled to ignore her presence.

It was like I was getting crazier by the second. I mean, she just kept coming back. So much for my Adderall theory. After I'd finally left the Forks boundary line, I'd pulled over and slept for hours upon hours inside the Volvo. I couldn't continue traveling in such an incoherent state. I just knew I had to leave Forks first, because if I hadn't left at that exact moment, I'd never have been able to.

That round of sleep had gotten me to Chicago safely, and since I'd arrived, I'd been fending it off so well that I'd become rather proud of my control. Of course, eluding sleep had its pitfalls. Most notably… her.

"We're not crazy," she defended indignantly while retreating her shunned foot. "Crazy people don't know they're crazy. It's what makes them so damned crazy," she explained, and from my periphery I could see her lifting her hair, sweeping it away from her face. "Stop being all…" she trailed off in thought while bunching up her curls and letting them drop in cascades down her shoulders. "Boy, Interrupted." She abruptly snorted and giggled while I rolled my eyes at the display. She always spent more time talking to herself than me.

Oh, wait a minute. I do that too, don't I?

I am so fucking fucked-up.

After her giggles ceased, she sighed long and hard, and then the vehicle settled into a glorious silence. I used the opportunity to concentrate on the townhouse and tried my best at blocking her out. It was the best I could hope for in these situations, and I really had to keep my head today. Today was the day I was going to just fucking… do it. No more excuses.

I had been in Chicago for two weeks, and I hadn't talked to her yet-even though it only took me five days to find her. It was surprisingly easy with the information from Carlisle's folder. She had lived in the same old townhouse for three years now.

This morning was my first attempt to see her… to spy on her. Whatever. It was a first, either way. I couldn't see any cars parked on the curb, and I'd spent the majority of the night scrutinizing the exterior face of her home. It looked nearly dilapidated, and I found myself repeatedly consulting the yellow manila folder to verify the address's accuracy. None of the windows were illuminated throughout the night, and I'd grown suspicious about whether or not she was home. Or if this even was her home.

My mind had been running frantic with thoughts and scenarios as I stared out my windshield. If I was really lucky, she wouldn't already have another family. That's what had happened to Emmett, and I knew it had devastated him. His mother and father had separated, but both of them already remarried and had children by the time he found them last summer. Still, I couldn't deny the look of acceptance in his eyes when he'd told me the story of his experience. They didn't want him in their lives, and he'd told me how happy they were. It didn't make him nearly as bitter as it should have.

"I always knew it was a possibility," he'd explained on my balcony the evening I left Forks. "They weren't mean, or rude to me or anything, they just didn't have room for me in their lives." He had shrugged as if it was no big deal-as if he'd been expecting it all along. At my disbelieving expression he'd continued, "It's not my place to barge into their lives and start demanding shit." I'd wanted to tell him that-yes, it was his place. He was their fucking child for Christ's sake, but before I could say the words, he'd swiftly added, "I already had everything I needed right here, Edward. I just needed to find that out for myself."

And so he had let them go, and it had shown with clarity on his face. I'd been shocked that he was capable of discussing them so casually. I couldn't even hear the word "Chicago" without curling into myself. But Emmett found acceptance by confronting what he'd lost.

That was what I wanted.

More than anything.

Some part of my mind knew, the more awful she was to me, the easier it would be to let her go. At the very best, I'd apologize for everything I did, and then leave before I could manage to ruin her new life too. She wouldn't forgive me, but I'd never expected that anyways.

This was a ridiculously selfish experience, and shit-I knew that. I knew the only one with anything to gain in this whole fucked up decision I'd made was me. By doing it, I was hurting her, I was hurting Bella, and… God only knows who else. But I'd had no doubts that evening on the balcony that I had to grow a pair and just face this shit. No more shortcuts.

"Why won't you call me?" Bella suddenly whispered in a cautious voice, breaking me from my silent reflection. My hands tightened around the steering wheel once again. Why she was bringing this up again-and now of all times, was beyond me.

"Fuck off," I growled low in my chest as I fought to ignore her. She really popped up at the most inconvenient moments, and I was in no mood for this argument.

This dispute would always progress in an annoyingly predictable fashion. I'd start by reminding her that Esme's house didn't have a phone. Both she and Alice had their own cell phones, and they'd probably never had a need for the extra expense of one. On the other hand, Bella had never had a need for a cell phone. Thus, I concluded that there was no direct way to contact Bella by phone. To which my annoying and incorporeal companion would counter with a reminder that I could call Alice directly, and she'd allow me to speak with Bella. To which I would counter that I wished not to bother Alice, and to which she would again counter with her doubt that Alice would be bothered. To which I would counter, "Fuck off."

See? I was saving us a whole shitload of time.

"But you want me to stay," she murmured while twirling a lock of hair around her finger. It was so fucking disgusting. I couldn't decide which was more disturbing-her being here, or me actually acknowledging it every single time. "You want to talk to me, so why won't you pick up a phone and call?" she asked once again.

"I'm done talking to you," I informed her briskly.

Bella had everyone back in Forks, and I'd made certain that everyone knew that I'd wanted her looked after before I'd departed. I'd even enlisted Rosalie.

Emmett had told me what a difficult time she'd had while he was away, and…

I don't fucking know.

I just felt like she could help my girl in some way that no one else could. I'd also asked her to stick by her side during school, since I knew that Bella would have difficulty walking to classes with Emmett or Jasper. Alice was a great friend and cousin to Bella, but nobody, and I mean nobody, fucked with Rosalie Hale. I knew after I'd called her that evening… I'd be spending less time in Chicago worrying over Bella.

"If anyone touches her, I'll rip their fucking balls off," she'd assured me firmly, and then had added, "Or tits. Whichever." I'd heard her shrug around the phone, and I'd known that she was dead serious. Rosalie was hard-core like that.

Bella was silent for a few moments before emitting a loud huff. "You know what, Edward?" She faced me then, ramrod in her seat, and I avoided her gaze as her mouth opened and closed repeatedly-seemingly unable to complete her thought.

My thought? Shit, this was confusing.

"Whatever," she finally spat and sunk back into her seat, crossing her arms over her chest with a glower. I had made her angry. I suppressed a satisfied grin.

"Fine," I concluded, rather pleased that I had won an argument for once.

"Fine!" she yelled in an enraged concession, her cleavage heaving with her huffs and glaring ahead. She was always grouchy like this right before she vanished.

I closed my eyes and ground my teeth. I hated admitting that I wanted her here. I despised the notion that her presence offered me the smallest measure of comfort-just because she looked like my girl. I hated the power she had over me because of this fact. I hated that she was about to leave, and I really fucking hated that I hated she was about to leave. "FINE!" I finally shouted back in annoyance, and when I opened my eyes, the seat beside me was vacant once again.

---

I spent my time focusing very carefully on the yellow door to the building. It looked so goddamn abandoned that it was making me second-guess my intel. I probably could have called Carlisle to ask him for further assistance. He did have access to medical records, and far more resources than I could ever manage to attain. But I couldn't call Carlisle, and even though I had been giving Red Bella idiotic excuses the past days of why I couldn't call Bella either, I knew it had nothing to do with cell phone logistics.

I couldn't call any of them until I was sure that I could be better. Like Emmett.

By nine, I had decided to leave and was checking the Volvo's fuel gauge in consideration of a fill-up. I reasoned that I could find my bearings later, but I was suddenly really fucking exhausted.

Before I could turn the key in the ignition, I saw the yellow door shift slightly. My hand froze on the key, and my body stiffened in anticipation as it slowly opened. A woman with long dark hair emerged, covering her face from the morning sun and closing the door behind her. She was wearing a long, brown trench coat that stopped at her calves and hid most of her form. I strained over my dashboard to catch a glimpse of her face, but she was already down the steps and walking in the opposite direction.

I released a breath I didn't realize I was holding, and my heart was suddenly thudding wildly in my chest-at the mere glimpse of a woman who may or may not have been my mother. There was no fucking way I was going to make it to her door if and when she returned.

I let my head fall to my seat with a shuddering exhale and waited.

I wasn't sure what I was waiting for, but I just had this feeling I should. My eyes closed for a few moments, but I opened them abruptly when I realized the risk involved. I watched a couple children traveling on the sidewalk with school bags on their backs. I shook my head quickly to stop that train of thought. It'd be out soon.

She returned after only twelve minutes with a brown paper bag clutched to her stomach. Her head was angled toward the ground, but I could see her face more clearly as she approached her building.

It had to be her.

I'd spent hundreds of nights sketching her face, and though this face looked more sallow, older, and pale, I was ninety percent confident it was the same person. The realization had me rigid in my seat. I watched her climb the steps and open the door to disappear inside. She didn't need to unlock it. I allowed this detail to distract me, and I somehow managed to spend fifty minutes dissecting it in my mind. She took a senseless risk by not locking her door. Then I decided it wasn't so much a dissection, as much as a really shitty method of noting the obvious.

By eleven, I'd grown weary with watching the door in anticipation of more movement. I wasn't sure if I wanted her to emerge or not, but of one thing I was certain: if I got this over with now, I could be back on the highway to Forks by nightfall.

With an agonized sigh, I reached a trembling hand to the door handle, only to pull it away again. I did this four times before I managed to pull it and open the door. Even then I sat in my seat, nervously tapping the steering wheel and huffing so frequently that it nearly made me lightheaded. After thirty minutes, I'd managed to exit the car, and I kept my eyes trained on my reflection in my window. I bit the inside of my cheek and raked my fingers through my hair and wished that I had kept my leather fucking jacket because it suddenly felt like a really comforting notion. Then, thinking about my jacket made me think of Bella, and I wondered if she was wearing it at that exact moment in lieu of the hoodie.

I allowed the vision that thought created to distract me for a moment as I rested my forehead on the cool metallic roof of the Volvo. I imagined my girl walking to class next to Rosalie, swimming in my leather and occasionally leaning down to inhale my scent. I imagined the sun reflecting off of her hair and embellishing the auburn-red tones that lie hidden beneath the flat brown. I imagined her smiling at something, and I allowed it to transform into laughter. The laughter felt closer, as if right by my ear, echoing through my head melodically and forcing my lips to curl upwards into an involuntarily grin.

I lifted my head from the car and turned, opening my eyes and allowing my smile to grow into one of silent relief.

There she stood. All fucking red and perfect with the most compassionate and tender expression. I wanted to hold her tight and kiss her on her red lips. If only I was a few additional degrees of crazier, maybe that would have been possible.

Her brown eyes shone as she gazed up at me and smiled warmly. "You wanted me." She sighed, seeming rather happy as I nodded in concession. She wasn't real, but I'd be damned if I was going to forbid myself the comfort she granted me at this moment. I needed it more than anything.

"I always want you." I said honestly, finally allowing myself to believe that this was my girl and not some materialization of my incoherency, because it made it better. I tried to ignore the complete lack of pull that the sight of my girl would have normally generated in my chest. I tried to ignore the still-present emptiness that plagued me as her red lips grinned.

She chuckled and rolled her eyes, pushing off the car and skipping forward. Her red skirt swayed and billowed in the breeze as she turned to me. "You coming, or what?" She smiled, and I inhaled a deep lungful of Chicago spring air to steady my nerves. She was so fucking perfect. Even pushing me to do what she knew I needed but was too afraid to accomplish on my own.

I shuffled to her side, and we stood on the street, both gazing at the yellow door. She kept skipping in front of me, coaxing me closer with her reassuring grins and gentle laughter. When I was close enough to see the grain of the wooden door, Bella and all her red hopped up the two steps and turned to me expectantly. My heart began thrumming in my chest once again and my breathing accelerated. My palms were sticky with sweat as I traveled to where she stood, climbing the two steps with apprehension and unease.

And then suddenly, I was just fucking there: at the door, face to face with yellow and my mental manifestation of a girlfriend standing at my side in provocative clothing with an encouraging red-lipped grin. I raised my fist while gazing into her brown doe eyes and made a million silent pleas as it lingered in the air.

She sighed and began wringing her hands in an odd gesture of anxiety. "I love you," she whispered without breaking my gaze, and even though I knew I was just telling myself that, it gave me the strength I needed.

My fist met the wood with three standard knocks and my body went rigid in anticipation as I waited. Bella was there, swaying her hips from side to side, red skirt swinging around her knees, and her hands clasped in front of her, lips pursed, and head down. I scrutinized her posture to distract myself until I eventually heard movement on the other side of the door. My pulse quickened and my throat contracted with my swallows as I kept one foot planted more firmly than the other, unconsciously prepared to make a run for it.

Before this plan could evolve into something I could act upon, the knob turned, and the yellow door opened. My racing heart stuttered and lurched as I gazed into the open sliver of darkness and a face emerged. Her eyes were sunken and bloodshot and she had to squint to look at me, slowly raising her gaze.

I swallowed and felt my fists clench of their own accord. My stomach sank and… it was too fucking late to go back, I realized as her eyes met mine. I couldn't have torn my gaze from hers to look at Bella if I had wanted to-and I kind of did. We seemed to be having some kind of epically pregnant pause. Her eyes were blank and completely devoid of all emotion and depth as they stared into mine. It summoned an unsettling sensation that rose into my throat and forced yet another thick swallow of apprehension.

Abruptly, something in her eyes shifted and the door was being violently swung open. Startled by the rapid motion, I flinched and braced myself for an impact, though I had no idea what to fear. Instead of the impact I was expecting, she stood in the open door with an expression of sheer panic on her face. She stood for only a fraction of a moment before she flew forward and grasped my face in her hands.

Her eyes became wild and wide as they scrutinized my face, only inches away. "What is your name?" she asked in a raggedly grating voice. I was stunned entirely fucking motionless and startled by her behavior as she frantically grasped my face tighter. "Your. Name." She repeated in a frenzied whisper that shook me.

"E-Ed-Edw..." I stuttered dumbly before grounding myself enough to answer completely, "Edward Masen." I used the name she'd be familiar with.

Her sharp intake of air was punctuated by her body unexpectedly colliding with mine, and I struggled to remain upright as her hands left my cheeks and wrapped forcefully around my neck. I just kind of stood on the stoop unresponsive and bewildered with my hands resting limply at my sides as she embraced me. I pushed back the emotion that fought to emerge over the notion that my mother was hugging me. If I went there, I'd be completely fucked.

From over her shoulder, my eyes drifted to red, and I was suddenly gazing at Bella's grin. She raised her hands in an expectant gesture, obviously cheering me to return the hug as my mother clung to me firmly. Hesitantly, I lifted my hands, watching Bella's red lips curl into a wider smile of encouragement as I allowed them to encircle her waist.

It was the most uncomfortable fucking hug I'd ever experienced. The awkwardness of the situation had made me still partially rigid, and the stance was only amplified by her stiff and boney figure pressed against mine. We stood for many moments and my discomfort grew, but I was uncertain if withdrawing would be impolite.

I decided I really didn't give a fuck.

When my hands left her waist and gently nudged her shoulders, I briefly panicked that she wouldn't release me and I'd have to either shove more firmly or endure the remainder of her… whatever this was. Neither option seemed acceptable at that moment. Fortunately, she must have sensed my change in compliance because she slowly retreated back to the doorway, her eyes fixed on mine the entire time.

My chest felt cold and vacant, and I realized I must have been injecting all of my detachment into my cold stare as I gazed at her numbly, but the hug had bothered me more than I wanted to admit, or her to notice.

She smelled shitty to, I noted dryly.

I heard Bella's soft snicker at my side and unwillingly, my lips twitched, because… goddamn it, she'd always have that effect on me-no matter the situation. Apparently misreading my amusement, my mother reached for my hand and tugged me gently toward the door with a sudden smile. I allowed her to pull me into the doorway as my eyes met Bella's. She frowned at my reluctant expression disapprovingly and waved for me to go of my own accord. Bitch.

My mother began hurling questions at me as she led me through the doorway into a darkened and stench filled room that made me recoil instinctively. "How are you? Where have you been living? Did you stay in the city? I never could bring myself to leave. Do you still play piano? Is spaghetti still your favorite food?" She finally turned to my blank expression, and her eyes, though no longer void of emotion, still appeared grey and vacant with just an inkling of excitement mingled beneath.

I remained silent as my eyes shifted around the stench filled room. I wasn't sure what it was meant to be. Perhaps, a sitting room or a living room? Maybe even a parlor room or den? It looked awful, and I could hear the tell-tale scratching of vermin in the walls. There was a sofa on the far end of the room that looked brown but was probably once a light tan. What kind of shit hole was this woman living in?

When my gaze once again shifted to hers, she was wringing her hands nervously, scanning the room with her wide and vacant excitement-laced eyes. "Can I get you something to dri-" She abruptly paused with a noticeable rigidity and jerked her gaze to mine, all traces of excitement vanished. "You shouldn't be here." She whispered sharply, and I was thankful beyond all reason that I hadn't let my earlier hopeful emotions penetrate me.

"I know," I said honestly before looking over my shoulder and searching my side for my lifeline. I found her by the door swinging her red skirt from side to side and smiling at me sweetly. She began humming something under her breath, and when I recognized it as the Scooby Doo theme song, one soft chuckle escaped my lips. Her red lips curled up into a smirk and she winked at me.

Sufficiently distracted from the pain her words threatened to produce, I turned to my mother and cleared my throat. "I just came to apologize, and then I'll be on my way," I spoke stiffly while her eyes scrutinized my face in that uncomfortable way again.

"You have his nose," she blurted and took one step closer before her brows furrowed softly. "Apologize?" she asked, tilting her head and searching my eyes.

I nodded curtly and somehow managed to gather the courage to follow through. I think I had just blocked out all emotions, and the numbness somehow made it possible. "I know I fucked up back then and ruined your life, and I just wanted you to know I was-am-very sorry." My voice was so controlled, it even surprised me. In my ears, I could hear Bella's soothing voice, but couldn't discern her words.

Her gray eyes narrowed and furrowed deeper as she searched my face again and stepped closer. "What did you just say?" she asked, and I could see her hands in my periphery tighten into fists at her sides. I repeated my apology once more, though this time refrained from using expletive. I wondered briefly if maybe it had ruined the sincerity of apology, though she only seemed to grow more confused and upset as she stepped closer once more. I was bracing myself for impact once again, knowing well and good that I'd let this woman physically harm me and not do one fucking thing to stop it. From somewhere in the room, I could hear Bella's soft snort.

"What do you have to apologize for?" she grated and I could see her jaw lock as her eyes shone with moisture and I battled to remain at ease. I hated her in that moment as I stood in her shit hole of an apartment and stared at her trembling frame of a skeleton. As if this weren't already difficult enough, she wanted me to say the fucking words and everything. Couldn't she just accept a fucking apology? Couldn't she give me that?

"I'm sorry for the… fire, and I'm sorry I didn't help..." My voice wavered and I was praying she wouldn't make me say more. Bella's voice in my ear was whispering about the most inane things: the perfect temperature in which chocolates chips melt, the correct way to cut beef-against the grain for maximum tenderness. She plucked pieces of the past in an attempt to soothe me.

It barely worked.

My mother blanched and recoiled before shaking her head. "We should sit." She motioned to the sofa, and in the darkness of the room, I could just barely discern a glimmer on her cheek. The realization that she was crying made me suddenly infuriated-whether with her or myself, I couldn't say. But I walked to the dark sofa and stiffly lowered myself to perch on the edge of it.

Bella was now at my side, and she smiled at me tenderly. "Once you have your sauté tray ready you have to be quick, considering the smoke point of the oil you're using. Proper prep is key, Edward. " She had the most stern expression on her face, and I was able to recall with clarity the day she had said those words to me. I was thankful for this version of Red Bella. She was much more realistic. I allowed myself a ghost of a smile and shifted my gaze to my mother.

The room was silent, and I wasn't going to speak first. I didn't feel comfortable on the sofa, but I didn't dare move one inch. Every now and again, Bella would speak and mention something familiar and soothing. After what felt like an hour of still silence between us, my nose had begun to acclimate itself to the stench in the room. My hands were still clammy, but I kept them palm down on my knees, refusing to flinch whenever she would make a movement.

Looking at her face felt so different and foreign to me. I had been so long looking at faces that weren't like mine. People would sometimes make attempts to link Carlisle's and my features if they were unaware of our situation, but nothing was really there. Here, I was looking at things that were familiar to my own face. I had sketched her lips and chin for years, but really looking at them felt tangible and gave me an odd and false sensation of belonging.

She rested on the arm of a nearby chair and began smoothing her hair with her hands. There was a window behind her, illuminating her silhouette and making it impossible to see her face clearly anymore. I was thankful. "You blame yourself for something," she whispered as she dropped her hands to her lap.

A humorless chuckle erupted from my chest before I could suppress it. "Is there anything I shouldn't be blamed for?" I asked flatly, ignoring Bella's tisk of disapproval from my side. She was playing Bella too well.

"Tell me why you think these things," she whispered in an almost venomous hiss, and I could see the dark outline of her shoulders grow rigid with tension. I could feel one corner of my lips pull down into a hard scowl as my eyes narrowed.

The Bella at my side had only a soft sigh of defeat and one single word to offer to this exchange. "Damn."

"I think these things because I did them," I growled unabashedly as my anger and resentment mingled and consumed my emotions. "I think these things because I'm the motherfucker who said 'Hey, it's hot, dry, and there's a fuck-load of fabric in here. Let's use candles," I spat dryly, finding less enjoyment from her wince than I'd expected. I knew it was wrong, but I had no control over the growing volume of my voice. " I think these things because I watched him fucking burn to death and did nothing. Is that what you want to hear? Are you happy now?" I finished, or at least I thought I had, but surprising us both, my body lurched upright, and I was sneering down at her silhouette. "I think these things because my mother threw me away like a piece of curbside garbage. Tell me if these answers are satisfying you, mommy, because I could go on for hours. I've had ten fucking years to think real hard on it." I sneered, and… fuck, that felt good-for about one minute, and then I was horrified by my outburst and immediately sunk back down to the sofa. "Sorry," I choked out remorsefully, attempting to regain control of my emotions by inhaling the stench of the air deeply. What the fuck was I doing? I had lost sight of my purpose, and Bella had conveniently vanished from my side. This was accomplishing nothing. Emmett had no fucking idea how easy he'd had it.

The dark room fell into an uneasy silence, and after many moments of watching her figure's stiff outline in my periphery, I began forming an escape plan. My mind idly calculated: I could be off the sofa, past the kitchen, and out the door in three seconds flat if I ran fast enough. And trust me. I'd run fast enough.

After maybe twenty minutes of this charged silence, an abrupt whimper came from her vicinity, and I shifted my gaze enough to see her hand cover her mouth. I furrowed my brows and dropped my face into my hands, feeling the guilt of my outburst consume me with remorse. My escape plan was looking so attractive that I scooted closer to the edge of the sofa, ready to depart.

Suddenly, she spoke in an even and toneless voice, all evidence of her whimper vanished, "I know you haven't known me for the last ten years, so you can't really appreciate what I'm about to say but…." She paused, and I could see her head turn to gaze out the window, the soft line of her profile illuminated and sharp. "I've never felt more deserving of death than I do at this moment," she finished so quietly that I had to strain my ears to hear.

Her words puzzled me, and I kept my body still and prepared for escape. Proper prep is key, Edward. With an agonized sigh, she rose from her position and walked to me. My body hummed with tension every inch she grew closer to me. When she had come close enough, she crouched down, tilting her head to gaze into my eyes. The hard set of her frown appeared loathing and disgusted, and the sight of it made my stomach churn despite my insistence to remain unaffected.

"The fire was electrical, Edward," she whispered, allowing her face to relax minimally as she edged closer to my knees. My brows pulled together in confusion as I scrambled and drove my back into the sofa. Still, she edged closer and continued, "I never once blamed you, and you can't take one fragment of fault for anything." Her expression turned furious as she approached me, now close enough to touch my knees while I cringed away. Her hands abruptly grabbed mine and squeezed them tightly as she stared into my eyes with a frantic expression. "I won't let you."

"Stop lying." A thunderous and startling scream erupted from my throat as I lurched off the sofa and flung myself at the door.

My hand had just grasped the knob when she begged in a pained and desperate whimper, "Please don't go."

I might have been able to ignore the plea if it weren't punctuated by loud and agonized sobs that tore at my conscience. I smacked my palm against the door with a piercing growl of frustration as I turned and collapsed against it in defeat. Whether or not I wanted to admit it, she had more power over me than anyone, Bella included. It made me impossibly more resentful and bitter.

My body slid down the door and I rested against it with my knees to my chest. Ready to leave, knowing I couldn't, and hating every fucking second of it. And where the fuck was Bella when I needed her? My head rested against the wood as I stared ahead blankly. I sat for a long while in the dark against the door, and the only sounds of the apartment were her constant stifled sobs and the distant scratching of vermin. I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms tightly around my knees. I imagined I was in my bed with my girl. Her cold toes were caressing my ankles, and I was smiling into her hair. I was asleep within seconds.