Sunrise, for the First Time
Disclaimer: Blah blah, I don't own stuff by Stephenie Meyer, including Twilight characters or titles or copyrights or dowries, which is remarkably unfortunate, considering making money off of wasted time would be a very lucrative profession for me.
Chapter 1: Phone Call
The phone rang. I stared at it for a minute, having momentarily forgotten the appropriate reaction to such a rude sound, and Jake got up.
I started, suddenly alert. "No, Jake, I'll get it. It may be Charlie." I stood up and hesitated, checking my balance, then walked to the phone. "Hello?"
Silence answered. "Hello? Char-- Dad?" Silence, still. I was beginning to think he had hung up, when --
"Bella." The voice was so quiet, so pained, so… beautiful.
I clung to the phone with both hands. "…Ed…Edwar…?" I struggled to catch my breath. It couldn't be him, not after everything, not after leaving me for all of this time. It couldn't be him, because he didn't love me. I was obviously suffering another one of my delusions. Maybe I was finally having a nervous breakdown. About time.
"Bella, I… Bella, you're alive." He said softly, incredulously.
The phone was ripped from my hands.
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, CALLING HER LIKE THIS?? YOU FILTHY BLOODSUCKER!!" Jake screamed into the phone, his eyes blazing and his free hand balled into a shaking fist. He paused, then reacted to words I coudn't hear. "ALRIGHT?? You want to know if she's ALRIGHT? After what you did to her? Would you like to know if she was alright 5 months ago? Why didn't you wonder if she was alright then? Because she was not fu--"
"JACOB BLACK!" I was suddenly screaming at him. "JAKE, IF YOU DO NOT HAND ME THAT PHONE RIGHT NOW, I WILL NEVER, EVER FORGIVE YOU!" I pulled on his arm with all my might, but then realized I could never forcefully take it from him. I calmed myself with effort and narrowed my eyes at him. He looked down at me with his raging black glare. "Let me talk to him," I said, giving him a look which I hoped would communicate the determination behind my threat.
He hesitated, and reluctantly handed it to me, clenching his teeth. I moved to put the phone to my ear, but he softly grabbed my elbow. "Bella," he said, clearly struggling to control his anger, "If he hurts you again, I'll rip out his unbeating heart."
I nodded. I knew.
I breathed in, praying to whatever God answered prayers that he was still on the line. "Edward." I said.
"I didn't mean to cause trouble, Bella." He said smoothly, obviously having taken the interlude to regain his composure. "Alice had a vision of you. You were jumping off a cliff. She thought you had died. Apparently, you changed your mind. I should hope you might refrain from making suicidal decisions in the future, however."
My mouth dropped open; anger and hurt filled every crevice of my mind, and my eyes filled with treacherous tears. "Is that all you wanted, Edward?" I hoped he hadn't noticed my quavering voice.
If he did, he pretended he hadn't. "Yes, that's all. Sorry to have upset your boyfriend."
"He's not my boyfriend," I answered automatically, then reconsidered, "And even if he is, what's it to you?" The words came out harshly, like venom, and now that the floodgates had been opened, I couldn't close them. "I spent months in utter nothingness after you left me. Months, Edward! I can't sleep and I can't breathe and I know you don't love me anymore, and I can't -- I can't expect you to," the tears were falling freely now, and the words bubbling to the surface through my already raw throat; I wasn't sure if I was even coherent, but I continued. "I can't expect you to love me, but I have no choice but to keep loving you, and it's ripping a hole inside of me, like you pulled a seam from my insides that I can't sew back -- and just as I found some glue to pretend to stick it back together, you call me to make sure I haven't killed myself because of what you did… Well I have died! I might as well be dead. So be sure not to feel alleviated from your guilt. You killed me months ago."
Clearly, I was being overdramatic, but I wanted, in this instant, for him to suffer at least a fraction of what I had suffered. It seemed to work. I had, at least, stunned him into momentary silence.
"Bella," he said, and his heavenly voice sounded tortured. I wondered if I had gone too far. "My Bella…"
There I go, with my delusions again.
"Bella…I. I'm sorry."
I waited, not allowing myself to wish for more. If he could only not elaborate, and I could pretend that he was sorry for leaving me and not for hurting me; I could pretend that the pain in his voice was because he missed me, and not because I'd appealed to his sense of responsibility.
I had to stop him before he could disillusion me. "Don't say anything else, Edward. Please. Don't… I'm sorry I scared you, and Alice -- please tell Alice how sorry I am."
Edward waited, and I thought I might pass out from the suspense. "I will. Goodbye, Bella." The line went dead.
I collapsed into a crumpled heap onto the floor and sobbed, barely noticing when hot, strong arms surrounded me and carried me from the room.