DISCLAIMER: All these characters and rights belong to Stephanie Meyer, I'm simply playing with them for a while. This story line is mine, though. Do not copy it.

A/N: In case you were all wondering, this IS "Like We Never Loved At All" but a few things have been revised and removed b/c it came to my attention that this story was rather similar to another author's. Don't worry though, everything's good now. :D

I promised I'd have this sucker back up by Christmas and it isn't even Halloween. I'm very proud. haha.


His soft voice came from the doorway behind me, unexpectedly making me jump.

I whirled around and faced him, not bothering to hide what I was holding.

Two years.

What did they mean to him?

Surely a whole heluva lot more to me than him.

Two years of loving…

Two years of promises of a future together. Of a family.

Gone. With one. Single. Pair of panties.

His expression was happy, content even, but that was before he saw what I was holding. His green eyes traveled slowly to the object in my hand, his face going from happy to confused to fearful.

That answered my question for me. The fear—the guilt—in his eyes said it all.

I hadn't expected him to come home this early, but now that he had, I couldn't even pretend everything was okay. His face—it almost killed me to look at him now.

We'd never be the same. A voice inside me screamed.

"Bella…" His voice cracked.

I shook my head to keep him from going on, holding up my hand.

"How long?" My voice did not waver on these two words as I brought my eyes to his.


"How fucking long, Edward?"

Truth being told, I didn't even care how long. I didn't want to hear him say it. So when he didn't answer, ducking his head, I let it go. I could see his eyes watering from here, his expression as pained as I'd ever seen it.

Good. I wanted him to hurt.

I looked down to the pink lace panties in my hands, unable to meet his tortured gaze any longer. I couldn't think clearly—not at all—and even though my mind told me not to do anything rash, my heart screamed out in aguish at the lie of it all. Was he pretending this whole time?

Did he use me?

The tears entered my eyes before I could stop them. The thong seemed to be glowing in my palm, screaming at me.

I vaguely remember a tall, statuesque strawberry blonde that had showed up at our wedding, claiming she was an 'old friend' of Edward's.

I remember him saying he was going to be late coming home, that he had a business meeting out of town to attend.

I was too blind to see that he was having an affair.

It wasn't until I'd found Tanya's number in his phone that I had my answer.

"I can explain—"He began, his voice hysterical.

Before I could think I glared at him—showing all my hatred and pain through my eyes. He staggered backwards at the look—his face shocked like I'd punched him, or slapped him.

Good. I wanted him to know how much this was breaking me.

"Bella please—"He whispered, choked. "It's—what will I say to mom and dad..?" He pleaded with his eyes.

My lower lip trembled and I longed for his arms around me more than ever—for his comforting embrace to take all the pain away.

But at the same time I wanted to hit him—to punch him in the stomach and kick him in the balls—not that doing that would match or even come close to the pain I felt in that moment.

I shook my head to clear it, trying to get my bearings. I stood in the bedroom of the house we bought—just down the hall was the bathroom that we picked out the color scheme and curtains together. Down the grand staircase there was a chandelier hanging over a large carpet—one we picked out together at a flea market before we got engaged. To the left of that a living room, the T.V large, just like he'd wanted, with furniture we both agreed would fit the vibe of the house. Modern, expensive. He was well-paid. He was a surgeon in the good ole town of Forks, the best one next to his father. Not to mention the inheritance he had set up for him the moment he turned 18 from his real parents, Edward and Elizabeth Masen.

And sitting on his large, expensive bed in the living room, our new puppy Jake probably sat chewing on one of his rubber toys, oblivious that his "mommy and daddy" were about to self-destruct.

I refused to be the woman who mooched off her husband—so I wrote for a living. It was peaceful, out of the home, but I still felt useful—and he still felt as though he was supporting me, something he said that as a husband it was his duty to do.

We lived a picturesque life—or so I'd thought. Truth be told, I could do without the large television or the stainless steel kitchen. I could even do without the canopy bed he'd bought me for our first anniversary, claiming I was his 'princess' and I should be living as one.

What a crock of bullshit.

"I'm leaving." I announced softly, gesturing to the suitcase already unzipped and open on the bed.

"No!" He cried, more emotion in his voice than in the past five minutes. "No, Bella no! Please Please! I love you, darling! I need you! Please, Bella."

Tears came to my eyes without my permission as he moved forward to grab both of my hands in a pleading gesture.

"We can work this out, Love. Please! I can explain… I just…please, Bella. I have no idea what to be without you! You're everything to me. You're everything! You always have been!" He was sobbing now, his eyes filled with remorse.

And that was what motivated me to pry his hands off my own, and to jerk away from him so his head was no longer on my shoulder, his tears staining my shirt, his bronze hair tickling my cheek.

"I'm leaving." I said again, just as flatly, walking over to my drawers and pulling out the first things I could find.

I'd be good for a few weeks with the things I'd grabbed—and that would give me enough time to cool off so I could come back for the rest—I don't know who I was trying to kid, I'd never be okay. The pain was enough to make me strong, though, and I wouldn't break in front of him.

And I wasn't just losing my best friend—I was losing a second family. His family. I was losing a sister, Rosalie, who at first had been cold and distant but had grown into one of my greatest friends, a mother, a father and a brother, Emmett, who looked like a body-builder but was actually just a teddy bear. His cousin, Alice, the only true friend I'd ever had. And… a husband. I tried not to linger too much on that thought.

I was zipping my suitcase when I felt the cold fingers on my elbows, tentative, almost as if he was afraid I'd pull away.

"Please." He whispered, agonized, broken.

And for a split second I almost turned around and tucked myself into his embrace. I almost pushed his messy hair off his forehead and looked into his piercing green eyes—perfect for his strong nose and jaw. I almost kissed away the tears that had run out of his eyes—almost brought my lips in for a kiss that I knew would be like fire igniting fuel.

But that would be like pouring raindrops back into a cloud.

"I have to go." I murmured instead, pushing him away from me and walking to the bathroom. I grabbed my toothbrush and shampoo, and my brush and my conditioner.

I walked quickly down the hall and down the steps, clutching my suitcase and toiletries so hard I thought I would very well snap them in two.

I was getting ready to open the front door when a pale hand flashed out to stop me.

"I've only ever loved you, Bella. Only you." Was his broken whisper as I jerked the door open.

I turned, taking in his stricken face and his puffy eyes, then I looked around him, taking one final look at the house with all the reminders of our life together.

"Then you shouldn't have fucked Tanya, Edward."

With that I slammed the door, getting into my black Audi and throwing my things into the back. I hardly noticed I was soaked because it was pouring.

I slammed into reverse so hard the tires squealed like human screams, and flew down the long driveway that eventually lead to the interstate.

The last thing I saw in my rearview mirror was Edward standing in the middle of the driveway, his wet clothes sticking to his body. I quickly looked away and slammed on the gas—suddenly needing to get very far away from here—from him.

Don't get too mad yet.

Remember, i'm a HEA author. 3

Make sure you all check out my blog: http/(:)robstenlovestoryrachaelp(dot)blogspot(dot)com for teasers and new stories.

Until next time...