The alarm shrieked mercilessly, commanding me to wake up. Opening one eye, I peaked at the time; 6:30. I was to pick up Alice, Rosalie, Emmett and Jasper from the airport in an hour. Groaning, I sat up as my brain registered the massive headache that was pounding. Groggily, I walked into the bathroom, and took two aspirin out of the bathroom cabinet. I swallowed them, not bothering with water; it was something I had gotten used to, ever since she was gone.

Shaking my head, I tried to shake out the mental image of her; I didn't need the extra pain today, not on top of the physical one. Slowly, I made my way towards the kitchen. During the past two years, I had thought of countless ways to distract myself from thinking of her, each useless as the next. Always though, I ended up giving in to my desire, and pictured her perfect face, knowing it'll hurt me later.

The fading headache reminded me that clubbing won't be an option for a while, but there were other ways to occupy the night…

I clenched my fist. No, not even if I were to die an old, lonely man would I ever consider strippers or prostitutes to satisfy that need. Nor would I date other girls, not while I'm still in love with her. It wouldn't be fair, and I would feel like I was betraying her. Angrily, I hit my sides for thinking about it.

The family, during this period where she's so permanently out of the picture, was never the same. Carlisle threw himself into working at the hospital more, and Esme joined him, helping out as a nurse. Alice and Jasper left Chicago, and were renting an apartment in New York, rarely contacting us and threw themselves into their classes. Emmett was upset at the loss of his little sister – this was how he saw her – and threw himself into the world of sports. Rosalie joined her husband, as she was working her way towards making the Olympics diving events.

I knew what everyone was thinking, even though we had never confronted each other. They all wondered in the mist of the pain, "Why had she left?"

This was the first time in ages that all my siblings insisted on coming home as soon as possible. They booked the first flight they could, and they all demanded me to drive them home. I wondered what the problem was, but none of them would tell me.

The familiar kitchen was a picture of peace, contrasting very obviously to how I felt. I scowled. My mother Esme was sitting in the kitchen, staring unseeingly at a brown parcel box that was on the kitchen table. I sighed; she had tried to be as supportive as she could during these years, but I knew she was disappointed in me. Disappointed in my choices and actions.

"Esme?" I said softly, not wanting to startle my adopted mother. However, my attempt was a failure.

"What! Oh. Edward," she said her hand now placed against her throat. "Good morning. This is for you," she pointed at the parcel, "I haven't opened it or peaked, it arrived this morning for you."

I was shocked, and slightly curious. I had not received any mail – with the exception of bills – for two years now. "Do you know who it's from?" I said, picking up the parcel. There wasn't any return address.

She twisted her fingers together, a trait whenever she was nervous. "I don't know dear, why don't you open it and see?"

I wasted no time in taking her advice. I ripped the package open impatiently, and a notebook fell out.

Who would send me an old notebook?

I opened it carefully. I was momentarily stunned as I saw that familiar big messy handwriting, giving me everything I need to know about the sender. It was from her. Suddenly my knees were weak, I needed to sit down. I slumped against the kitchen chair, exhausted. Yet I was also filled with a thirst, a need to read what she had sent me. After she left, she had no contact with me whatsoever. Why would she send me this now?

But for whatever reason, I wasn't ungrateful for hearing from her. God knows what I had gone through during the first few months of her abrupt disappearance.

"Edward, she's gone!" Charlie's urgent voice yelled at me through the ear piece.

"What do you mean? Who's she?" I asked, still sleepy.


Suddenly I was awake. "What do you mean? What-"

"Look," he interrupted impatiently, "Bella told me she's leaving. And she just left," his voice broke on the last word. "I don't know if it's too late, but call her! Talk to her, I don't know where she's heading, and she won't tell me."

"It's from her, isn't it?" Esme whispered softly, her voice breaking me out of my reverie. These days, no one dared to mention her name in front of me.

I seemed to have lost my voice. Weakly, I nodded, returning my attention back to the old notebook.

My Edward,

A lump rose at my throat. It's been so long since she had called me that.

Whatever you do, please finish reading this notebook before you do anything rash.. Can you promise me that?

I knew I would do anything for her, and all she had to do was ask.

If I am right, I knew sending you these would be a mistake. If I am wrong, sending you these would be a relief for you; I would set you free. At least, that's what I'm trying to convince myself. I hope what you will find out at the end of the last notebook won't make you do anything careless or stupid. To keep that from happening, I sent Alice and Rose a copy of this notebook, and an instruction to stop you if needed.

There's no point in hiding this, not now.

I didn't like the way she mentioned now; it gave me a feeling that something was going to go wrong.

I will make everything clear to you, and please, once again, don't do anything stupid out of guilt. It's just, it seems like option two – that I'm wrong – is the right answer, and please don't be put out with me; I'll explain what these two options are soon.

I love you.

It hit me like a rock. She loves me?

I always have, and always will. Until my last heartbeat. I love you. In fact, right now, I'm not even sure that death will stop my love for you.

I felt like running across the roof, doing something silly to express my happiness. She loves me, in the same way that I love her. I was sure that I was grinning like a fool, and for once, I didn't care that I was breaking my façade. I was alive again, and thinking about her words fuelled that feeling further. I needed to find her now, to see her – oh after so long it would be such bliss – and to tell her how I felt. She needed to know too. Then we'd be together again. I imagined myself seeing her beautiful face, seeing the smile she always gave me and hugging her soft petite body to my own. She was mine, and vice versa. An adrenaline rush flowed through me as I stood up, preparing to find her.

But suddenly, remembering my promise, I sat down again. I promised my love that I would read the whole thing before I did anything impulsive and catching a flight now seemed to fit in that category.

"What is it dear?" Esme asked. Looking up, I realized my mother was smiling happily at me.

"She loves me," I said simply. She beamed, her warm, sincere smile as she stood up and hugged me wordlessly, her happiness expressed in her tears.

"I'll leave you to enjoy Bel-" she hesitated, "Bella's letters. Don't worry about picking the others up, I'll do that now. See you later sweetheart." I smiled at her before she left, suddenly too grateful to have Esme as my mother. Without her, I don't think I would have survived. That and the thought that Bella was alive, and healthy.

I quickly went back to my bedroom. This is something I wanted to do in private.

Okay, now we have that out of the way, let's get started.

Get started on what? I wondered.

I don't know if you're still interested or care about my past…

I scoffed at the thought of not being interested about anything Bella.

but in case you are, this is to satisfy your curiosity on everything that happened to me, and I wanted you to know; it'll let me rest in peace. And, I hope you won't judge me too harshly after you've read this.

I rolled my eyes at her absurdity; I'd never judge my Bella harshly, not about anything.

Alright, enough riddles. They make sense to me but probably not to you right now, not yet. You know how you used to always want to know about my past? Here it is. And you can probably see the reason why I wasn't too keen to share.

I was born in Forks, my mother, Renee, and father, Charlie, were the golden couple of the small town. It was like Renee was the girl everyone wanted to be, and Charlie the James Bond because of his job as the Police Chief. Everyone wanted to be them, not just because of their good looks, but because of their love for each other.

Life would have worked out, but Renee hated Forks, and she wanted to leave the gloomy town. Charlie however, loved Forks and wouldn't leave if his life depended on it, but he wouldn't let Renee go. I didn't realize how deep his love for Renee was until I came to Forks, but that's another story.

One day, Renee finally had it. She left with me when I was just a few months old, leaving Charlie. They were the Golden couple no more.

But Renee didn't have any skills. She graduated high school, and she didn't go to college. She couldn't find many jobs, except for the odd job waitressing or dish washing, but she was so scatterbrained that she would always mess it up, like doing something silly, forgetting to wash the detergent off the dishes, smashing stacks of plates.

I hope you won't show this part to anyone. Renee, eventually, took up prostitution.

I was shocked at the thought that my Bella's mother did… that.

She was a single mom with no chance of getting a steady income, she had to do what she could to get us food and pay the rent. I don't blame her, and I was never ashamed of her. But I knew most people would not share the same view as I did on the matter.

I was scared to lose you, and I wasn't sure if you'd still want me. That's why you've never heard about this.

Yes, I would have been shocked. But I would never hate Bella over it. I always wanted Bella, and I still do. It confused me why I never saw Bella so unsure about our relationship during that time that we'd been together, or why she never told me.

One year, things got out of hand. Renee began doing drugs. Then, she died of an overdose one night when I was sleeping over at a friends'.

Although it was no more than three sentences, I could tell it hurt Bella more than she liked to admit. I cringed at the thought of my love in pain.

I never forgave myself for that. If only I was there! If only I didn't go over to someone else's home, I would have saved her. I would have helped her. And she would be alive right now.

I made another mental note; I needed to discuss this with Bella. There was no need to blame herself for another person's choices.

I was seventeen that year, and as you might remember, that was the year I came to Forks. The year I came to live with Charlie. I'm sure you remember that time, so I'll skip over those details.

Now, as to why I left.

I held my breath. This was the question whose answer I've been waiting for. It was the most important question of them all.

Do you remember, the week before I left, I went on a shopping trip, by myself, to Port Angeles?

And she went by herself, refusing any company. Yes, I remembered that. I was curious at the time, but I wanted to give her space, thinking eventually she'd tell me.

I wanted to look for the bookstore. I went by myself, because I wanted to see something. I wanted to see what kind of pregnancy prevention I could use, because I was preparing myself for you.

I gasped. She was preparing herself for sex with me? Once the shock was over, my body began to respond at the words. I imagined her sexy soft body – naked, sweaty – against mine, and imagined running my hand over her soft back. Suddenly, the temperature in the room rose dramatically.

"Bad Edward," I said out loud. Then I forced my mind to go another direction, and made my eyes return to the paper.

Yes, I don't think you were prepared for that.

I smiled; if only she knew.

But now that the truth is out, I can't seem to stop. I'm on a roll.

You might wonder why I didn't use the internet for my… research. I did, at first. But there weren't enough details, and I wanted to be one hundred percent accurate with my information.

It was dark, very dark as I walked back to my car. And I got lost, in the alleys. Then four drunken men came out of the local pub, and saw me.

I was furious, my clenched fists, shaking with anger. "Please don't be what I think it is," I thought silently, bracing myself as I read on.

I was raped.

These there little words caused a massive fury in me to roar. I was angry, beyond furious. I picked up the vase, and threw it across the room. I needed to find those… monsters, to make them pay for what they did to my Bella.

I was lucky to be alive. Luckily – how ironic – they passed out, after my torture had ended. I quickly went to my car, somehow managing to find it, and drove home. I was grateful that Charlie was at Billy's that night; I would have lot of explaining to do.

Somewhere between the anger, I was confused. Why didn't she tell me? I would have supported her, helped her, be whatever she needed. I would have done anything she asked.

I understand if you, um, feel an aversion towards me now. Really, now thinking about it, I should have told you. We were in a relationship, and this does concern you.

After it happened, I thought about it carefully. I decided that leaving was probably the best answer. If you didn't want me anymore, I'd understand; who would want a raped wreck as their girlfriend?

I growled at the absurdity. No matter what happened, she would always be my Bella. She would always be the only woman I'll ever love.

Besides, I was never enough.. You were never in my league. I wasn't pretty enough, or smart enough, or anything enough. There never was anything enough about me to deserve you.

Maybe, once I found Bella, it was a good idea to start with talking some sense into her.

I planned to break up with you, a clean break, so you'd move on quickly. I would leave, lonely, sad, heart broken. But I couldn't find the courage to break up with you. It would hurt too much, and I was being selfish. I left without giving you any explanation.

If not giving me an answer lessened her pain then my anxiety – for a lack of better term – it was definitely worth it.

I'm sorry for any pain that I may have caused you during that time, and I hope that you moved on quickly. I hate to see you in any pain.

I smiled at her use of present tense; she still cares about me.

I found myself in Phoenix, where I grew up. I found a job as a waitress, and rented an apartment with a girl I was friends with. Occasionally, I'd call Charlie, because I promised to keep in contact with him. I never told him the real reason I left.

I would never forget that look on his face. It was a look of pure pain, and shock. If you see Charlie again, can you please tell him that I'm sorry? You can show him this note book, if you like as evidence.

I would keep that in mind.

Now, what have I done in the past two years? Hmm, it just seems like bad luck was glued to me.

After the rape, I was pregnant.

Although it wasn't really unexpected, now that I knew, it still hit me like a rock.

Eight months later, Esrenee Allie Swan was born. She looked exactly like me – with the exception of dark skin, and she was my angel, during this period of hell.

I was unreasonably jealous of this unknown child; I was meant to be there for Bella, and she took my spot. "It's not the same type of love," my reasonably side told the other.

I named my daughter after your mother and mine, her middle name after your sisters. I hope you don't mind. It made me feel closer to your family, and as you know, I love them dearly.

I smiled. Esme would be happy once she knew, and I saw no point in delaying the delivery of this news to her. I could only imagine Alice's and Rosalie's reaction as they read these words.

But there was something wrong with her; she was born with an illness that has no cure. The doctors estimated her life to be a year long.

But she pushed past that time, and I started to hope. I learned a lesson from this; never hope. Because when your dreams are crushed, it'll hurt more than if you didn't hope.

Her death was six month later than the doctor's estimation.

I planned to raise her, and if she didn't survive – my heart hoped she would – I would come back to Forks, and hope you would want me. Hope you're still available.

Of course, and always, Bella, love.

But I'd grown too attached; when she died, I lost a huge part of myself.

Oh no…

Now, back to those two options. Option A: if I was right. If I was right, you had moved on long ago. You probably don't care about Bella Swan anymore.

Option B: if I was wrong. You're still in love with me, and if you heard about the news, you would do something stupid to yourself.

I wrote this letter, pretending option B was the right one. It was a last wish… to pretend that you're still mine.

You would always be mine, Bella.

Last wish? Oh, no, no, no, no, Bella, NO!

Yes, I did the unthinkable. I'm sorry Edward if this caused you any pain, but you will be able to move on fairly quickly. I don't think someone like me ever had much attraction on you. By the time you receive this parcel, I will be gone.

I love you always,

Bella Swan

I couldn't comprehend what I had just read. My mind fumbled, trying to gasp the truth.

"NO!" I roared. "Bella is not dead! BELLA IS NOT DEAD! SHE'S ALIVE! NO I WON'T LOSE YOU AGAIN! NO!"

"Edward! Edward what are you saying?" Two figures rushed into the room, followed by three others. But I was no longer able to comprehend anything. Everything around me was beginning to fade, and voices – oh so loud to me a minute ago – was faint. I couldn't recognize anything, or see the figures that were holding my body.

Soon, I fell into a black hole as everything disappeared.

AN: :'(

But yay! I'm starting to get into the write-long-chapters thing.

As always, review will inspire the unexpected… I'm thinking of another update…