Chapter 1: The End

Chapter 1: The End

BPOV

"He left me, He left me, He left me, He left me…" I repeated while hugging my arms around my knees, rocking back and forth in this cold, stark place. I didn't know what day it was, or even the time of that day. Nothing mattered anymore. Food had no taste, the air held no sweetness to my breath. My life was not worth living. I had tried on several times in vain to end it, but no one would let me succeed. Was I even alive? Or was this place my own concocted form of Hell? In my vision, there were no colors: only varying shades of grey, black, and white. The over-head florescent lights only aided in keeping my world grey. Their buzzing drowned out most of my inner-thoughts, a loud blaring keeping me in my zombie-like state. The hospital-like bed I rocked on was lumpy as I stared out the chain-bar covered window into the non-descript outside. A metal clicking sound came from the door of my—for lack of a better word—cell. Still, I kept rocking, repeating my mantra of desolation.

"Isabella, honey. Isabella, you have a visitor today. Will you accept the visitor?" A woman's voice called to me, one that I had become familiar with. Turning my head from the window I had been staring out of, I slowed my rocking and quieted my chant of pain. Looking at the door, my brain told me it was a nurse I was looking at. I could see her nametag: Nurse Emily. Considering that she was only asking me out of formality—if it was my father visiting again, it didn't matter if I did or did not want to see him: they would make me—I nodded my head in acquiescence. "That's a good girl," she cooed. Nurse Emily came towards me in her starched-white uniform and held out her soft, warm hands. Gingerly, I took them and attempted to stand up but I was so weak: I hardly ate anymore and was often force-fed intravenously. She laced her right arm around my waist, supporting me as I held her left hand, walking together towards the door.

Nurse Emily guided me down the sterile-white walled hallway that was lined with thick metal, white doors with small viewing windows one after another. God, I hated this place. Random patients loitered against the hall's walls, licking them, or talking to the walls or themselves. These were my peers, my colleagues, if you will. I was grouped with them, locked away with them here. Here, I was known as the sad-girl. If I could still laugh, I would laugh at that. Sad? Really? That's what they thought? Who gives a flying-fuck what they thought. They're crazy. Sad was a gross understatement. I was so much more than sad: my life was over. It would have been ended if other people didn't feel the need to cling me to this earth any longer. Pain was the only thing that kept me alive in any sense of the word: their pain at the idea of me dying, and my residual pain from losing… him. I did not like to think of him. Except for that he was gone, he left me. They tried to tell me lies, the kind that they only meant to comfort me with. They told me he would be OK, that a mistake was made. All lies. I knew he was gone.

Clearing my throat I decided to ask Nurse Emily if my dad came with Sue this time or by himself. It took a little extra work—I wasn't sure when the last time I had talked above a whisper. "Emily?" I rasped. Just then, we rounded the corner to the visiting room reserved for patients and their families. Deciding that I was moments away from knowing myself, I kept quiet. Nurse Emily shrugged it off; clearly thinking I was crazy and it didn't matter if I randomly spoke her name. Whatever. She opened the door to the visiting room and my world of grey was shattered. Suddenly, I saw color: intense green eyes and blazing bronze hair. Impossible!

"Edward," I gasped. Suddenly I knew I was dead. This whole white and grey place a concoction in my mind, the movie What Dreams May Come was suddenly wildly realistic. Still, it didn't make sense why he would be in Hell with me.

"But you're… you were supposed to be… dead." Abruptly a whirling vortex of grey spiraled around, and at the center was my beautiful green and bronze. My body felt weightless and eventually, in my mind, I disappeared into the black.

.::.

The first time I met Edward Cullen, I was six years old in Forks, Washington. We threw dirt at each other and I went home to dear old mom and dad and exclaimed that I was going to marry that boy some day. It was that sort of magical moment when kids have better insights to their wants than adults seem to know about themselves. That night, however, my parents sat me down and explained to me that they were getting a divorce. "Bella, sweetie, we both love you very much but we just don't love each other anymore," is what my mom had said. I was one of those persistently sunny children that always bounced back. My mom dragged me to Phoenix, Arizona so she could feel the sun on her face again and I bounced back from their divorce.

Over ten years later, when I was sixteen, was the second time I met Edward. I had moved back to Forks to live with my father after deciding that I hated my new stepfather, Phil. When Edward's grown-up teenage form caught my eye, I was smitten all over again. This time we didn't throw dirt at each other but, instead, decided to date. Who knew at the age of six a girl could be so right about finding her soul's counterpart in another. Edward was everything I could have ever wanted in a guy and everything I never knew I needed. He was caring, protective, loving, hilarious, and had this naughty edge to him—I took advantage of that. Edward was drop dead sexy, could have had any girl in the world he wanted, and yet he wanted me. He was perfection in his leather jacket, and we worshiped each other.

Transitioning from high school sweethearts to college lovers over the years, our happiness only increased. We grew from love-struck teens to in-love adults. Our junior year of college, after both of us had turned twenty-one, we were thinking about the future. An opportunity came up for Edward to spend his first semester of senior year abroad in Paris. I knew it would be hard for us to be separated for the longest amount of time since the start of our official relationship, but we would make it work; we always did. It was important to him and I knew I could manage back home at University of Washington for the one semester on my own. The night before he boarded his plane that August, we shared our last date in the United States together for the next six months. After our romantic candle-lit dinner at a swanky restaurant in Seattle, Edward drove us out to a meadow-like plot of land overlooking the city. Out of all my memories of before, this was the most vivid—next to him leaving on the plane, that is.

.::.

Dinner left me feeling full and content. Edward had his fingers laced with mine as he drove, always too-fast, through the Seattle roads. He had said he had a surprise for me. Although the new dress, necklace, and fancy dinner were quite enough. Getting off the main road, he turned onto a private drive. Grinning his Cheshire-cat lopsided grin—the one I fell in love with when I was six and again at age sixteen—he regarded my confused expression. "Uhm, E? Where are we going?" I asked, curiosity overtaking my mind. He chuckled softly, lightly shaking his head from side to side.

"You'll see Bella; beautiful, I need you to be patient for your surprise," he exclaimed through his now-bigger grin. Confidence and love was being exuded from him as he drove on the winding drive. The trees thinned suddenly and there was a meadow with the grass cut short. It reminded me of his parent's home in Forks. Instead of there being the large white house in the middle of the meadow, there was a soft glowing on the ground, like a thousand little candles. I looked around and could not see another car in sight anywhere. Where was this glowing coming from? I had thought. Edward cut the engine and I could see that he was starting to get a little nervous, which was odd for me to see that because usually he was so well-composed. He got out and walked around the car to my door, opening it for me. After dating him for five years I was used to this gesture and just let him do it. It made him feel gentlemanly.

"Thank you, babe." I customarily said.

"Anything for you, love." He answered as always.

We had a pattern that was neither forced nor routine. To us, it was wonderfully romantic. Edward took my hand and led us toward the glow. It was a pleasant night that had neither wind nor rain—one of those rare, amazingly beautiful Seattle nights. As we got closer to the meadow's glow, the lights became individualized instead of one giant glow; I was now able to see each individual candle. They were placed in a careful boxy configuration with a rhyme and reason that I couldn't quite figure out yet. Edward led us to the very middle of the open maze of candlelight and paused. I turned to him, and saw a mischievous smile come over his perfect face.

"Right here, right where we're standing: this is going to be the kitchen—your gloriously big kitchen filled with everything you need to make your perfect culinary creations." Edward started. Oh god, I had thought, he's pulling a Grey's Anatomy scene on me before he leaves… he knows I love that show. I couldn't help but laugh inwardly at how corny, yet equally great the gesture was.

"Wait! You bought this land?" I questioned.

"Yes. This is going to be our home. Will you let me continue?" Edward huffed. It was such a typical moment for us: Edward being sweet and me being ridiculous.

"OK," was all I could say.

Leading us into another room of the candle-maze, he paused again. "And here, here is where I'll play piano and you'll watch adoringly at how amazingly talented your husband is," he assured me with the biggest grin. After I nodded, he moved us into yet another room. "This room will be where our children play as we watch them affectionately so," and again he dragged me into another room. The narrowness of the candles alerted to me that it was a hallway. "And here, in our entryway, is where we'll always remember—," he paused. He released my hand and I walked a few paces away from him, looking at my surroundings and when I turned back to him, he was bent on one knee and held his hands out, one with a small black box and the other searching for my own hands. His expression was undulating anxiety but I could not tell if it was the excited kind or truly nervous kind.

"Edward?" I gasped when I saw him positioned like that.

"Give me your hands, love," he politely requested and I did as he asked. I swallowed hard, unintentionally, at the same time as he did. The fact that we usually did most things in-sync made a small smile settle on my lips. "— we'll always remember that this is where I proposed and asked to be my wife forever and after." I gasped when he said that and felt tears of happiness swell in my eyes, threatening to spill over the lids, as my face undeniably flushed.

"Isabella Marie Swan, my one true love, will you marry me?" Edward asked. Before I could ruin the moment with any awkward pauses, I rushed my response.

"YES! Edward Anthony Cullen! A thousand times yes! I would marry you today, tomorrow, in a pair of Chucks carrying a bouquet of dandy-lions. I love you!" I screeched. After he slid the most beautifully antique diamond ring on my dainty finger, he kissed me passionately before we hugged each other so intensely I feared breaking my ribs. Almost as quickly as we started hugging several cars' lights turned on and was accompanied by their horns beeping and blaring from a small distance. The expression on my face must have been total and utter shock—I can only imagine what it looked like, but I knew what I had felt.

"Where the hell did they come from?" I asked, nearly ruining the moment.

"Bella, they were there the whole time. We can't help it that you are completely unobservant!" He chuckled. This was not the first time he had said that to me; in fact it was a running joke how unobservant he thought I was.

"You will NOT be wearing that at your wedding!" Alice's pixy voice screeched as she leapt from one of the cars to engulf us in a congratulatory hug.

"Well, jeez, Alice. I didn't know you were listening… it was just sort of for effect…" I stuttered and winked at Edward. It served her right for eaves-dropping—hearing something she didn't like. Suddenly we were surrounded by other members of our family as well as our friends that were considered family. My dad and his second-wife Sue came to hug us next.

"Congratulations, my baby-belle. We brought some champagne to celebrate," Charlie, my dad, said as he uncharacteristically got choked-up. I could see through his crinkly-eyed smile that one tear escaped before he pulled me into the biggest hug and nodded to Edward and shook his hand.

"Thanks, dad," I gasped as my own tears started to spill.

"We're so happy for you, honey!" Sue exclaimed as she gave Edward and me her hugs. Next in line was Esme and Carlisle, Edward's parents.

"Now you're officially part of our family! Although you were considered part of it almost the moment we met you. I'm so happy for you two! Just think: another daughter!" Esme exclaimed, full of her own shameless tears and big smiles.

"Oh, what mom? I'm not good enough for you?" Alice teased her mother.

"No, we're just excited for another, honey. Bella, Edward: congratulations. You kids have immense happiness ahead of you," Carlisle offered.

"Thank you," Edward and I said in unison and shared a brief laugh. I added on, "from the bottom of our hearts." We were only engaged five minutes and already we sounded like an old married couple: offering our feelings as one entity.

"Bella, baby! Oh I'm so happy for you!" Renee called to me.

"Mom! You flew all the way from Florida?" I asked incredulously. I couldn't believe my eyes.

"Surprise!" Edward whispered in my ear. God, did I love him. He was my soul, the very point that my universe revolved around. I remember thinking then that without him my life was meaningless. I gave him another kiss on the cheek as we stood there in our receiving line of blessings.

"I cannot believe that Edward proposed to you before Emmett proposed to me!" Rosalie cried as she playfully swatted at Emmett's large bicep before hugging me fiercely. "Congrats girl, I'm so happy for you!"

"Rose, you told me you didn't want to be engaged until after college. What's a man to do?" Emmett whined. "Bella, Edward, now you can stop having pre-marital sex and get on with the marital sex! Awesome." Emmett thought aloud before engulfing me in his own awkward bear-hug. It was only awkward because he had just discussed my sex life with Edward in front of both of our parents. Following Rosalie and Emmett, the other couple in our close-knit circle of friends, Jasper waited for his turn to congratulate us patiently.

"Darlin' I am just so happy for you Bella! Congrats Edward, may I throw the bachelor party?" Jasper teased. The moment I heard bachelor party, I tensed. "Oh relax, Bella, I was only joking. We gentlemen never need to partake in that ritual when we are so enraptured with our women." I couldn't help but tightly wrap my small arms around Jasper's tall form for making me feel so wonderfully. He always had a way with making people feel great no matter the occasion. It was hard to hold him properly in my arms, and I wondered how tiny Alice was able to accomplish that task when she was so much more petite than me. She did, after all, hug him nearly constantly, that playful thing she was.

My father toasted us all with the champagne and disposable glasses that he brought. It was so lovely to be surrounded by the other couple's in our lives: Carlisle & Esme, Charlie & Sue, Jasper & Alice, and Rosalie & Emmett. My mother was the only single person present, having been fresh off her divorce from Phil. I had a feeling she enjoyed single-cougar life better than married-cougar life. The great thing about Renee was that even as a ninth wheel, she never felt awkward of made the moment uncomfortable. She was her own woman and I truly wished that as an adult I possessed that aspect of her. I also hoped that my marriage would last longer than the two of hers combined and then some!

"OK Bella, so as your Maid of Honor—because Jas and I won't be married before you and my dear brother so it'll be maid instead of matron—I need to know your wedding colors so I can start gathering fabric swatches and decoration ideas for your bridal book." Alice gushed. It was so typical of her to already start obsessing over the aesthetics of the wedding the moment I had gotten engaged.

"Alice who says you're my Maid of Honor?" I teased. Her face fell to a point that pained me to see. "Oh relax, Alice I was kidding! Of course you're my Maid of Honor! I just, you know, thought I could ask you out to lunch or something and ask then. Isn't that more traditional?"

"Screw that! You'd be wasting my precious planning time! Now, colors!" I had never been the type of little girl that dreamt about her wedding day because I had never dreamt that there would be a man stable enough to handle all of my crazy. I had to think quickly.

"Uhm… yellow and black?" I stammered, hoping I chose well.

"I just knew you'd pick those! Excellent! Now I can start getting to work!" She kissed my cheek and flitted off to Jasper's awaiting arms.

That night was the last time Edward and I made love, and the first and only time that it was as an engaged couple.

.::.

Saying goodbye at the gate of his flight to Paris was one of the hardest things I had ever had to previously do in my life. Even my parent's divorce couldn't measure up to the heartache it left me with. Edward had been sweet about his leaving the whole day. He made me breakfast in bed, which was ridiculous to me because it was the day of his departure and I should have been the one making grand gestures. I, however, enjoyed it none-the-less.

"I love you Bella, my fiancée. I'm leaving my heart here with you so take care of it. Keep yourself well and I'll be seeing you at Thanksgiving when you visit," he said through a strained expression, meant to keep his tears at bay.

"I love you so much, more than the air I breathe. You are my life. Come back to me, Edward." I pleaded through my own sobs.

"Always," he said before he kissed the ring on my left hand and then my lips sweetly, chastely. He held me in his arms, silently, for a minute or two letting me wet his coat with my tears completely before he started to pull away. We both knew that he needed to go right at that moment or he would never get on his plane. He pulled his body away but still held my hand for the briefest of moments before giving it a squeeze and letting it drop to my side as he backed away towards his awaiting flight. He blew me a kiss goodbye and turned around, dejected. His posture was visibly more hunched with sorrow than I had ever seen in the five years previously. He had been gone less than thirty seconds and already the harrowing void he left had consumed me completely. I started to run towards his gate, dead-set on seeing him one last time, stealing this moment from fate for my own pleasure. Before I even called out his name, his retreating form turned almost as suddenly as my own did. I remembered thinking the memory of this; I will carry with me always.

"Edward!" I screamed in anguish. We both sprinted to each other with abandon of our responsibilities: mine to be strong and his to leave. I flew into his arms and we kissed fiercely and passionately. We kissed the kiss of lovers issuing pained goodbyes, when they try to implant their soul into each other's keep until they are reunited. Finally, Alice and Rose had to step-in to break us apart. People were, after all, starting to stare and Edward was literally minutes away from missing his flight. We didn't say any words this time, having said all that there was to say before. This time, we merely nodded with our heads held high.

Once Edward had boarded his plane, Alice and Rosalie dragged my sobbing-ass to the car and drove me to the apartment I had shared with Edward since the beginning of our junior year of college. They were equipped with sappy romance movies, Ben & Jerry's ice-cream, tissues and tequila. It was as-if it was the night to cure the break-up blues. If I had known that it was going to be the last time I ever saw Edward, I never would have let him leave.

.::.

The first week of Edward's absence was the hardest. Although we texted throughout each day and he called me before he went to bed, I still missed his physical proximity and day-to-day small interactions immensely. After the first week a sort of numbness set in as I created a new routine purposely designed to keep my mind off of missing Edward until his nightly phone call. My culinary classes were going well. At the end of my sophomore year at UW, I decided to transfer to Le Cordon Bleu—a Culinary Arts school. It was going to take me approximately two years to get my degree so Edward and I would have graduated around the same time. Also after that first week, Edward and I discovered the genius of Skype. Whenever possible—we put in the extra effort—we would video-chat with one another. It was a blessing to see his beautiful face as well as hear his sensual voice. Because we missed each other so intensely, a few of our Skype sessions would end in Video-Sex and mutual masturbation. It didn't even make me feel dirty: I missed him that much.

The day before I was supposed to jet-off to Paris to spend the week of my Thanksgiving break with Edward, I was a nervous wreck. To say that flying made me nervous was an understatement: I was petrified. Wishing that Edward could have been flying with me, I packed up my things: a weeks' worth of clean underwear and bras, ten different outfits (some dressier than others), my make-up bag, my toiletries bag, and some valium a doctor so kindly prescribed for my flights. As per usual, the TV was on CNN as background noise—a habit I picked up from my years of living with Charlie. He had always insisted on being well-informed and CNN was the closest thing America had to BBC. It had always surprised me that he wasn't willing to fork out the extra money on channels as to acquire BBC himself, but his thrifty habit stuck none-the-less.

Infuriated with packing—another one of my dislikes—I settled on making dinner for myself and contemplated calling over the girls and having one last girl's night before Paris. Thinking back on Edward's decision to attend the Sorbonne for a semester, I couldn't help but think of how ridiculous it was that I hadn't decided to attend a Culinary School in Paris, myself. After all, France was renowned for its cuisine and the quality of their chefs. In fact, I was dead-set against me accompanying him, something about him needing his last bits of freedom before graduating college and real-life got in the way. I had always known that I would end up marrying Edward; I just didn't think that we would be engaged until after graduation, similar to Rosalie's standards. Interrupting me from my lecture-like day dreams, my cell rang. Alice, read the caller ID. I always swore that woman was somewhat psychic, sensing when someone was thinking about her.

"Hey Al," I greeted as per usual.

"Bella—do not put on CNN…I am on m-my way over and I need to talk to you," Alice rushed so quickly I thought my ears were mistaken.

"Are you crying?" I asked rather incredulously. It was one thing to miss me for a week, but there was definitely no need for tears!

"Just DAMN IT! Don't put on the TV…trust me. You—you-y… you don't want to see what's on it. Jas-per is driving me oh-over." She huffed and tried to say some more, but clearly was in no condition to even speak so I placated her the only way I knew how.

"It's already on. But I'll turn it off, OK?" Leave it to Alice to be completely irrational. There was probably something on the CNN about terrorist activity in Europe and she was probably just freaking out that I was about to fly off to Paris in the morning all by myself, unprotected in her eyes. Everyone in our group worried about me constantly rather needlessly. It was as if they thought of me as some China Doll, breakable and always needed to be shielded. What they didn't realize is that usually the only thing I needed protecting from was my own clumsy two-feet. I was raised by a cop and a mother I had to parent: I was tough enough to handle the outside world. "OK Alice, I'm walking over to the TV right now to—," she cut me off with her screams of No!

"The breaking news of the crash in Paris continues to be updated—" The CNN reported spoke from the television. It now held my rapt attention; Alice's screams into the phone went mute to my ears. "Less than an hour ago, an American student studying at the Sorbonne University was hit by a car as he was crossing the street at Pont de l'Alma—the very same tunnel that Princess Di lost her life. He was carried into a Parisian ambulance with a white sheet over his body and is presumed dead. The French Police have refused comment, but a local reporter found the victim's ID lying in the street. His name is allegedly Edward Anthony Cullen from Seattle, Washington.—," a male correspondent spoke.

"That was just a replay of our broadcast from about thirty-five minutes ago," a new female correspondent corrected. "Parisian authorities still have yet to comment on the condition the American student was found in or whether or not he survived. Although, Phillip," she turned to her co-anchor, "Wouldn't you speculate that the victim was a fatality based on the usage of the white sheet?"

"Most assuredly, Candice." He replied with such conviction that a lie detector test would determine that to be a truth. I was no better than such a device.

.::.