Summary: Companion BPOV of my one-shot Nothing. Bella walks away from the man she loves because she fears she doesn't mean that much to him. Edward wants to prove she's his everything.

I guess it was Richard Bach who said, "If you love something, set it free; if it comes back it's yours, if it doesn't, it never was." That's all well and good. My problem is that I set myself free. I broke away and didn't look back. Rose said it was a lesson he needed to learn. She said he needed to see that I wasn't someone he could give attention to only when he wanted to give it. She said he didn't love me the way I loved him and that was unfair. I deserved better. I deserved more. I deserved everything.

Edward Cullen was my everything. From the moment I saw him, I was in love. Tall and lanky. Long fingers, strong jaw, wild hair, and a smile that made my knees weak. He stood on the small stage at Austin's, strumming his guitar and singing about love and heartache, and I was completely enraptured. His pretty words mixed with the soulful rasp of his voice almost brought me to tears that night. When Edward was on stage, he was a star. He was my star; the one that lit up my sky.

Edward could have any girl he wanted. They all wanted him. Still do. "I want you. Come home with me,"he drunkenly whispered in my ear that first night.

I didn't go home with him, although I seriously considered it. I did make out with him in the hallway by the bathrooms and let him feel me up. I punched my number into his phone, certain I wouldn't hear from him since there were probably plenty of girls who wouldn't have thought twice about taking him up on his offer.

He surprised me, though. Edward called me the next day, offering to buy me dinner because he didn't know how to cook. I did go home with him that night. There was no turning Edward Cullen down two nights in a row.

We were two passionate souls, fire and spark, each one feeding the flame in the other. I was my mother's child, a little wild and free-spirited. I didn't always play by the rules and I thought that was what he loved about me. If it was love. Now, I wasn't so sure. Maybe he was just drawn to my light. He spent the last few months working awfully hard at putting it out, though, so again I'm left confused and broken. What started out as all-consuming ended in this nothingness.

When we first met, his touch, his kiss, his need was undeniable. I drank it all in. I tried to give it back, tried to show him he was everything I would ever need or want.

The good times were better than good. The days and nights we spent talking about music and art, about our families and friends. We enjoyed so many of the same things. It had been a long time since I had found someone that got my quirky sense of humor and didn't judge me for marching to my own drum beat. Then there was the sex. Never in my life have I had sex like the sex I had with Edward. The best part about our great sex was that we both wanted it. All. The. Time.

It hurts to think about the things that no longer exist in my world. The way his hands felt; in my hair, against my cheek, wrapped around my leg, pressed to my chest so he could feel my heart beating. The way he looked at me in the morning when we spent the night together. The silly text messages that just said I miss your boobs. I love his laugh and the way he made me smile. He always kissed me before saying hello. I even love fighting because making up with Edward always consisted of the tearing of clothes and the loud slapping of skin against skin. He never treated me like I was something fragile. He never held back, never resisted the urge to let me feel how much he wanted me and my body. The things our bodies could do together...

I thought we were so damn compatible. I thought I would be what he needed and wanted forever. Until it became apparent that maybe I wasn't.

"The guys want to get together tonight. I have to cancel."

"You don't mind, do you?"

"Alice broke up with Jasper. He needs me a little bit more than you right now."

"I'm staying late to finish something up. Don't wait up."

"Did we plan that for this weekend? The band got a gig. I'll make it up to you."

"I won't be around for dinner like we planned. You know work is crazy."

"Not now."

"Next time."

"You understand, right?"

"Tomorrow, I promise."

The excuses piled up so high, I couldn't see over them. I couldn't see around them. I couldn't see us anymore. Rose told me I was too understanding. I did understand. I knew that his position at his father's firm was a job he could never walk away from no matter how much he hated it, but I also knew that music was his life. His father wanted Edward to be more like him. He wanted Edward to follow his dream for his son, not understanding Edward had dreams of his own. Edward had big dreams. Dreams I wanted to see become his reality. I just didn't realize that it was me or the dreams.

I supported his music. I was at every show. I never complained when rehearsal ran late or he met up with Jasper to write something that he couldn't get out of his head instead of coming over like he promised. I wasn't "that girl", the one who was clingy or too demanding of his time. When we were together we were perfect. What more did I need?

When my car broke down, I kind of needed him. He couldn't come; he sent Jake.

When I planned a fancy dinner, lit candles on the table, and spent a small fortune on some really fucking sexy underwear, it would have been nice if he showed. He called two hours after I expected him, saying he had a burst of inspiration and he and Jasper had to finish what they started.

When my cousin got married last month, I wanted to show him off. He cancelled the day before, saying he wasn't feeling well. I worried about him the whole day and even left the reception early to bring him some food. I found him at his place in a cloud of smoke with Jasper and Emmett jamming on their guitars.

The night we were supposed to go to a dinner with the editors of the magazine I wrote for, I wanted him there. I needed him to want to be there. He argued that he didn't see the point in hanging out with people he didn't know. He said he couldn't do it because the guys in the band were fighting about which tracks they were going to post on their Facebook page. I was obviously so insignificant that I didn't even rank above Facebook drama.

Rosalie had been on me for weeks before that. My best friend was a tad overprotective, but she was usually right. I deserved more than that. It was wrong to be in a relationship in which only one person did the giving and the other did all the taking.

So I left.

He let me.

I returned his things.

He didn't protest.

I didn't call.

Neither did he.

I felt like he didn't even care that I left with my heart bleeding in my hands. Choosing to leave meant I had ripped it out of my own chest. How could he not care? Rosalie said it proved she was right all along. He never cared about me, only himself. I was better off without him. I pretended to believe her. Even though I knew I would never be better without him. No matter how many times she told me different. I'd just be broken.

Two weeks after I walked out on Edward, she was trying to set me up. She told me to meet her at Lucky's but surprised me by showing up with some guy named Marcus. Not only did she have this guy join us, but she got a call and had to leave unexpectedly. I could have killed her. Lucky's was where Edward and I had our first official date. It was "our place". It was not going to be mine and Marcus' place. I forced myself to laugh at his bad jokes and couldn't stop staring at the gap between his two front teeth. Edward had perfect teeth. Edward had perfect everything. Of course I was thinking about Edward when he appeared at our table.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Marcus was almost as shocked as I was but for a completely different reason. "Excuse me?"

Edward ignored him completely. He had eyes for no one but me. "You're on a fucking date? Here? You have to be fucking kidding me!" He was so pissed, lighting the fire in my belly as well. I was furious and elated at the same time. Jealousy meant maybe he cared just a tiny bit.

His anger could barely be contained. His fists were clenched almost as tight as his jaw. The tension that settled across my shoulders was unbearable. Two weeks without him hadn't really lessened my need to be with him. Now he was here. Standing inches away. I wanted him to unclench his fists and twine our fingers together. I wanted him to tell me he loved me. I wanted him to say he was fucking sorry and that he should never have let me go. I would have taken him back. Even though I was pissed, I would have tried again because if he really loved me, we'd figure it out.

"Walk away, Edward." He needed to stop tempting me to give him the time of day.

"Ha! Walking away is what you're good at, Bella. I don't fucking walk away. I fucking stick things out. I hang in there even when the going gets fucking rough. I don't quit."

"Quit?" Oh, that was almost hilarious in a rip-my-fucking-heart-out kind of way. "No, you refuse to quit everything that makes you miserable! You keep the job you hate because you're too afraid to tell your dad the truth! You go back to the same chick who cuts your hair like shit because God forbid she find out you went to someone else. You stay friends with people who piss you off because you don't know how to not be friends with them. You were willing to stay in a relationship with someone you didn't love because you don't quit shit."

His nostrils flared. I had hit the mother of all nerves. He was so enraged he couldn't speak.

"We broke up, Edward. We're free to see other people. I deserve to be loved completely."

To add fuel to the fire, I reached out and grabbed Marcus' hand that sat on the top of the table. I thought Edward's eyes were going to pop out of his skull. His face got so red, I worried his head was literally going to explode. It didn't, but all hell broke loose. Edward picked up and tossed the baskets of food off our table in a blind rage. The salt and pepper shakers were hurled across the restaurant.

Marcus sat, wide-eyed, frozen in disbelief. I was certain Rosalie hadn't mentioned she was setting him up with someone who had a psychotic ex-boyfriend. Edward grabbed the pilsner sitting on our table, dumping the beer on Marcus' lap.

"You think he's going to love you?" he screamed. "You think he can give you what you want?"

I guess our waitress had enlisted the help of a young waiter. Some guy with a nose ring and black spiky hair tried to get Edward to step away from us. Edward did step back and over to another table. He knocked everything off that table as well while shouting a string of expletives. That's when a couple of customers restrained him and I heard someone shout to call the cops. The manager came over. He knew us since we practically ate there once a week. I heard him say the cops weren't necessary and watched him go outside with Edward. Once I could think straight, I apologized profusely and offered to pay the bill. Marcus just stared at me with icy blue eyes until he decided he was just going to leave.

Rosalie tried to kick my ass the next day. Good thing I'm scrappy.

I spent the next five days thinking about what happened and what he said. The more I let his words sink in, the more despondent I felt. You think he's going to love you? Maybe he thought I was unlovable. Was I? I could be somewhat frustrating. Always stubborn. Occasionally jealous. Reckless once and awhile. But weren't there lovable things about me? He had left me feeling so low, I couldn't name any.

It was a Friday night and I wasn't going to do anything. Rosalie was barely talking to me and was smart enough to know that taking me out looking for a new guy was not going to happen any time soon. Instead, I put on Edward's Beastie Boys shirt because fuck him if he thought I was giving all his shit back. I loved this shirt and if I couldn't have him, I sure as hell was going to keep the shirt. I curled up on my couch with my box of Wheat Thins and a Diet Coke. I tried to watch some movie on FX, but no rated R movie is any good when all the things that make it rated R are taken out. I settled for watching music videos on Fuse. Some of those should be rated R for heaven's sake.

It's now a little after eleven and I know I should just go to bed because I'm pathetic and this day needs to be over. I'm thinking about it when my phone buzzes on the coffee table. It's probably Rose. She's probably going to try to get me to come out. I'm sure she's met the perfect guy for me and after a couple drinks has forgotten she's mad at me for ruining her first attempt at setting me up.

I grab it but notice it's not her face staring back at me but his. His.

"Hello?" God, I'm pathetically eager.

"Bella?" The emotion in his voice is real. "I'm a mess, Bella. A total mess. Emmett and Jasper have spent all night trying to convince me that I can get over you, but I can't. I can't, baby." He's drunk and his friends are all against me for some reason. I want to knee someone in the nuts so badly. "I need you. I need you to forgive me and come back. Can you please come back? I love you. I swear I do. I can't spend another day without you. I'll do better this time. I promise. I love you. I love you so much."

I am rendered mute by his confession. He's drunk, I remind myself. He doesn't mean it. He's drunk and confused.

"Bella? Can you hear me?" he calls out. Wherever he is, it's loud. "Bella?"

You let me leave. Walk out. Say goodbye.

"Bella?"

You didn't even try to talk me out of it. You told me to have a good life.

"Bella?"

You've let weeks go by. You attacked me at Lucky's and told me I'm unlovable.

"Bella, I still love you."

You love me?

"Do you hear me?"

I hear you, but do you mean it?

"Bella!"

I realize that I've been thinking and not speaking. "Edward," I squeak. "You can't just say that." He doesn't hear me. There's rustling and voices before the line goes dead.

I fall back on the couch, running a hand through my hair. Don't be stupid, I tell myself. If he loved me, he wouldn't be proclaiming it at a bar with Emmett and Jasper as they're trying to persuade him to forget about me. He'd be at my door; begging, pleading, and groveling.

Just a few short minutes later, the phone rings again. I sit up and take a moment, trying to calm my nerves before answering. I press the talk button, but before I can say anything, I can hear Edward yelling and out of breath.

"Bella," he says, the sounds muffled, "I still love you, baby. I love you so much. Please take me back. Please, Bella."

I can't even believe he's calling again. I start to question his sanity along with how much he's had to drink. Why does it sound like he's running?

"I've got to call you back!" he shouts. There's some grunting and the line goes dead. What the hell is going on?

I press the buttons to pull up his number. Maybe I should call him back to make sure he's okay. I can't help but be a little worried about him. He's not a fighter. I'm the one who gets aggressive when I drink. Edward doesn't usually get into too much trouble. Alcohol tends to make him very mellow. He becomes very hands on. Snuggly.

Bittersweet memories wash over me. His nose in my hair. That was always the first sign that he was drunk. His arms would envelop me from behind and his nose would bury itself in my thick locks. Then his hands would search out skin. He didn't like to touch the parts of me that were clothed when he had too much to drink; he liked skin on skin contact. Sometimes my arms or hands were enough. Other times, he would slip his fingers under my shirt or into the waistband of my jeans. His mouth was next. Lips would brush my shoulder, my neck, the shell of my ear. His tongue and his teeth were quick to follow. Brush, lick, nip. Brush, lick, nip. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.

I can feel my body flush at the thought of Edward's mouth on me. It makes me want to cry. I call Rosalie instead of him because if I don't get a pep talk, I'm going to do something crazy.

"Bella?" Rosalie sounds like she's somewhere equally as noisy as Edward.

"He called."

"Who called?" It was a mixture of not being able to hear me and having no idea what I was talking about.

"Edward called. He said he's sorry."

"And you told him to shove his sorry up his ass, right?"

I lean back on the couch and stretch my legs out, propping my feet up on the coffee table. It was smart to call Rose, she isn't going to let me cave. "I didn't really say anything."

"Even better. Ignore his ass like he ignored yours. Stop answering your phone. Let him talk to your voicemail. Seriously, Bella, you are not thinking about taking him back, are you?"

Yes. No. Maybe. "He said Emmett and Jasper took him out to make him forget about me but it wasn't working. He said he's sorry and he wants me to give him another chance."

"Do I need to come over there and knock some damn sense into you? He hasn't bothered to say squat in almost three weeks except the temper tantrum he threw at Lucky's. Bella, he's ridiculous. Do not go back to that."

I close my eyes and cover them with my free hand. I know I should be agreeing with her, but she hadn't heard him. He sounded so sad. And drunk. I needed to remember he was blitzed. His apology probably had more to do with being inebriated than anything else.

Ugh! Why couldn't I just hate him? If I hated him, this would be a non-issue. I would tell him to go fuck himself. Instead all I can think about was the way he thrust into me when we made love the last time. The way he rocked me, making me use my hands to brace myself so my head didn't hit the headboard. It amazed me sometimes that I could walk the next day after some of our more aggressive lovemaking. I crave him. I hate the way he forgets about me, but I love the way he touches me. He's like a drug, bad for me but makes me feel oh so good.

"...and you deserve better than that. Bella? Bella, are you even listening to me?" Rosalie shouts through the phone. I totally forgot I was talking to her.

I sigh quietly. "I hear you. I won't do anything tonight. He's drunk and probably won't remember calling me in the morning."

"Good girl."

"Thanks for talking me d-" My sentence is cut off by a loud banging on my door.

Edward's voice calls out on the other side, begging me to open up, to talk to him, to forgive him.

I am frozen. All the noise I could hear on the phone is gone. Rosalie had obviously moved somewhere quiet. She could hear the ruckus Edward was making.

"Is he there? Bella! Don't open the door. Just pretend you aren't home. Let him think you're out. Do. Not. Answer. That. Door!"

"Please open the door. Please talk to me," he pleads.

I want to do what Rosalie says, but my heart nearly leaps out of my chest. It pulls me off the couch. I hang up on Rosalie. I can't listen to what she says. I drop the phone as something inside me guides me to the door. Maybe it is my foolish heart or my inability to self-preserve, but something deep inside me needs to be closer to him. I press one hand against the door. I clench the other into a fist, resisting the urge to turn the doorknob. My phone starts ringing from its spot on the table.

So much for making him believe I'm not here.

What I'm not expecting is his reaction to finding out I'm home.

"Is he in there? Is that guy from Lucky's with you right now?" His anger causes me to take a step back. It's almost as if he reached through the door and slapped me. "Two weeks and you're already with someone else? Did I mean that little? Did you really even love me?" He punches the door, and I flinch. I back up some more and sink to the ground, tears welling in my eyes. He thinks I didn't love him? I have never loved anyone the way I love him. "Did you mean anything you said when we were together?" Punch. "Remember how you told me you would love me forever? You're a liar, Bella Swan. You're a liar!"

The tears fall like they did the day I left. Fast and furiously. I am not the liar. I will love him forever. And ever. Even if we can never be together again.

I can hear other voices. People trying to convince him to leave. Emmett, maybe even Jasper. They think he's better off without me. They must be glad I left. They want him to leave me this time.

"Bella, please. You were right. I was an ass. I am an ass. I took you for granted. I shouldn't have done that." He's calmer but still hurting. I can hear it. His pain cuts through me like scissors through paper. Slicing me open and making me bleed on my side of the damn door. "Why did I do that?" Another banging noise, but this time it sounds more like surrender than a threat. "I won't do it again. I promise."

I stand back up and take a tentative step towards the door. I stand in front of it, listening to him as he speaks from his heart.

"I dream about you. Every night. I think about you...every day. I miss you." He sighs and I rest my forehead on the door, my hands move up and lay flat against the wood. "All the time," he confesses.

I miss you more.

"You were right. You deserve a guy who puts you first. You deserve a guy who isn't going to forget for a single second what a lucky bastard he is."

My knees are weak and I almost press my entire body to the door, hoping I can somehow float through it. This is what I have been waiting to hear. The words dance around me like they do when he sings them on stage. They drift and dive straight into my soul. I don't want anyone else but him.

"I still love you. I always will. I really do hope you have a great life." He sounds completely devastated. This is not the alcohol. His words are not slurred nonsense. He loves me and he wants me like I want him.

I try to get my head to wrap around that. I can't stop crying. I can't do anything else. I'm surprised I am even able to breathe. The lump in my throat keeps me from saying something, something that lets him know I hear what he's saying. I try to move my body so I can open the stupid door and fall into his arms. I step back and wrap my hand around the knob. I try to dry my face with the back of my other hand. I start to worry I am a terrible mess. I let go of the doorknob and use both hands to wipe my face. I try to fix my sloppy ponytail, wrapping it in a loose bun. Shaking off my nerves, I reach for the doorknob and pull it open only to find the hallway empty.

He's gone.

He can't be gone. I run down the hall. Out the door and out into the cold night. I stop on the landing. There he is, standing on the curb. Emmett on one side, Jasper on the other. They aren't speaking to one another. Jasper lights a cigarette and sees me standing there. He smiles and shakes his head.

"Edward," I call out. He turns and his sad eyes find me. He looks how I felt a moment ago. Broken. Incomplete. Lost. I fidget under his stare. I know Rosalie is going to kill me in the morning, but I don't care. I smile at the thought. "Don't go."

He doesn't hesitate. He flies to me at a superhuman speed. I am in his arms and surrounded by his heat and his smell. He definitely has had a lot to drink tonight, but I don't care. I know we are not wrong. We belong together. He picks me up as I wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

"Never again, Bella. Never again."

We go from the landing to my apartment to my bedroom somehow without ever releasing our hold on one another. Edward kisses me with everything he has. He slams my back against the wall and blankets me with his body. His hips press hard into me, causing me to lose my grip on him with my legs. My toes barely touch the ground. Edward doesn't stop kissing, touching, squeezing. Slowly, he lowers me down. His arm is wrapped around my waist and the other hand cradles my neck as he pulls me closer, deepening the kiss.

He tries to pull back, and I have to fight every fiber of my being that wants nothing more than to be permanently attached to him.

"We should talk," he says out of breath again.

"Talk."

His eyes close as his head drops. "I don't know what else to say. I was an idiot. Losing you is like losing everything. You are my everything, Bella. Everything."

I reach up and hold his face between my hands. He opens those green eyes for me, letting me in completely.

"I can't go back to the way it was. I won't." I needed to stand my ground even though all I want is to feel his body on top of mine, open myself up and let him take whatever he wants. "You said you want me to be with someone who puts me first. Can you be that guy?"

He nods his head the best he can while I am holding it. His hands grip my wrists as he gently pulls them down. "I want to be that guy. I want to be the guy who doesn't just tell you but shows you how much you mean to him. I will be that guy, Bella. I promise you. Let me show you."

His warm lips meet mine. His tongue is no stranger and reacquaints itself with my mouth. I want him so badly. I want him to mean what he says. He pushes me back towards the bed. When my legs hit the mattress, he stops kissing me long enough to rid me of his T-shirt.

"You're a thief, first my heart then my shirt." He smiles before planting wet kisses along the side of my neck. I can't stop from grinning. This is the easy part. Getting swept up in him requires no effort on my part.

He pushes me down on the bed and removes his own shirt before lying down on top of me. Skin on skin. Heart to heart. He kisses me softly as he brushes my hair from my face, caressing my cheek with the back of his fingers.

"I'll never let you leave again." He stills his fingers. "Wait, I can do better than that. I will never make you want to leave again."

Edward's words reassure and comfort. I know I'm making the right decision, no matter what Rosalie says about it in the morning. We rub noses before his lips cover mine. His hips thrust against me in the most wonderful way. We have way too many articles of clothing separating us down below, and after a few minutes of making out, I make sure we shed it all.

He takes his time, loving every part of me. Kissing down my neck, across my chest. He sucks one nipple in his mouth while his fingers roll the other. It all feels amazing, but I need him inside me. I need to be connected. We had been apart too long. I ache like never before. Edward's calloused fingers trail down my body. Soft hands will never do. I need them to be rough. I need to be able to feel the difference between him and me.

Those fingers find their way between our bodies, into my body. I buck and grind. There is never enough.

"I missed you so much," I cry out as he glides his fingers in and out. I move my own hand in between us and grip him hard. "I need you. I need this." We need to fuck away all this fuckery.

Edward groans in appreciation as I stroke him. The weight of him feels so good in my hand. "I can't live without you. It's not living, baby," he whispers in between kisses and nibbles. He rolls on his back, bringing me on top of him. "Go slow. I know I can't. I want this to last a while. I want to make up for lost time."

I'm not sure I can go any slower. I kiss and lick at his bottom lip. Straddling his hips, I rub against his erection. I'm dizzied by the jolt of pleasure it causes. It feels like a thousand years has past since we had been like this together. I use my hand to lift him up so I can sink down. With eyes wide open, two become one. All the pieces of my broken heart fall back into place and fuse. I am whole again.

I try to go slow but I can feel myself losing all control. My muscles tighten in the most delightful way as I move myself around his length. We both grip harder, groan louder, hold on tighter. I bury my face into the crook of his neck. We're naked, sweaty, and sated. His hair smells like my shampoo and I can't help but smile.

"I love you, Edward."

"I love you, baby," he says with gentle hands running up and down my back.

I know he means it. He will not let me down. Edward Cullen is my everything.

A/N: Thanks to Dolly Reader for the last minute, late night read through.