Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of the characters.

Okay guys, just a heads up, I'm editing my work and reposting some chapters… Just fixing a few grammatical errors.

Kill me now.

I've always been a sucker for romance, true love, happy endings… all that sap. Ever since I was ten, I've read classic romance novels like Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre. At fifteen, I got into Shakespeare, and started getting addicted to the script of Romeo and Juliet. At a young age like that, I never understood how someone could kill themselves just because their partner died. I mean, I believed in looking at the optimistic side of things, and never got why you had to kill yourself. There were always the good things in life left over, even if your loved one died. Family, for example, or maybe another gal or guy could catch your eye and you would move on. Life wasn't worth ending for such a trivial thing, right?

Wrong.

Sometimes I wished love never existed, because without love, there wouldn't be pain, and my life would be just as I wanted it to be. But despite my wishes, it was still there, as strong as ever, and I couldn't even try to deny it. Carlisle's love for Esme still remained after years of marriage, Esme's maternal love for her children, Alice and Jasper's young but strong love, and finally, my undeniable yet regretful love for… him. Edward Cullen. The love of my pathetic life, and the person who left me for another.

I should have seen it coming. I never should have fallen for him. He was the womanizer, the glorious god that held the charms to turn any woman into jello just by looking at them. I was Bella Swan, the quiet, plain, and reserved type of person who couldn't go the day without several acts of clumsiness. Now, I could clearly see the unlikelihood of the match, but back then, I didn't care. I was in my personal heaven, with a handsome god of a man marked as mine. I had my doubts, and my self-consciousness came in at times, but he would look me in the eye with those beautiful melted golden eyes of his and say that he would never so much as look at another woman, and that he loved me with his very being. I believed him, because my love for him made me blind, and I didn't realize what was happening until it hit me like a stampeding bull.

It all started one day in spring. It was truly lovely, with everything washed anew with the rain of the previous night. The sun was out, and birds were chirping. I was in another world, replaying my activities with Edward the previous night. I was pretty sure my face was flush red, but I couldn't care less. I was going to Edward's office to give him a surprise; he'd forgotten his jacket at home, so I was "bringing him his jacket". Stepping into the big glass building, I headed for the elevator. It took me to the fifth floor, and I stepped into his office, prepared for an afternoon of fun in the office.

The first thing I saw was Edward's beautiful face, his bronze hair, his golden eyes. Then, I saw the scenario.

Edward was sitting on the desk.

Tanya, his accountant on top of him.

She was undoing the buttons of his shirt.

I wasn't stupid; I could put two and two together. An involuntary gasp escaped my lips, causing both their heads to turn. Immediately, I turned to the elevator doors to escape. My last memory of his face was that of a guilty expression, my last memory of his voice was that of his pleading.

He called me after that, countless times. I'd even heard him banging on the door of my apartment at night. I chose to ignore him; I wouldn't be glued together and shattered again. I made a mistake once, and I wasn't going to repeat it. After awhile, everything stopped; he no longer came chasing after me, and I no longer had to hide at work from him. His guilt had finally subsided, and he'd chosen to move on. That was it; I was only a plaything, something to throw away after it was used.

The only reason I kept up my façade of a life was my belief of happiness. That, and the fact that two months later, I met my current best friend, Alice Whitlock, married happily to her husband of four years, Jasper Whitlock. She was a ball of energy, and dragged me out of my catatonic state. I met her family; Carlisle and his wife, Esme, as well as her adopted brother Emmett. She had another adopted brother; but they chose not to talk about him. From the little information I'd gathered, he was away in France for business. They were probably saddened greatly that he was not with them.

The blatant blaring of the alarm clock awoke me from my painful contemplations. The present hit me again, and I was filled with a sense of relief. My pain was dulled, and my energy amplified. I groaned and rolled over, ready for the new day ahead.