Title: Selfish
Summary: She looks sad, even in her sleep
Word Count: 494
Rated: M
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

She looks sad, even in her sleep. Dried tear tracks stain her cheeks.

Guilt. He did that to her. He's the reason she cries herself to sleep at night. He's been so caught up in himself, his work, his needs. Feeling pity for himself because his wife wasn't there for him anymore.

It didn't even cross his mind that she had felt the same.

Regret. When they moved a couple months before their 17th wedding anniversary, they started drifting apart. He was always at the university, she was always in bed before he got home. He should have just talked to her, told her what he was feeling. Instead, he accepted the first attention he had gotten in while.

Attention from another woman.

Shame. He broke his vows. And for what? Because he was feeling sorry for himself? Because he decided a few minutes of feeling wanted was worth his whole marriage?

He doesn't deserve her. She doesn't deserve what he's become. She deserves so much better.

As if a fog has been lifted, he sees all the mistakes he's made these past two and a half years.

They moved out here so he could follow his dream as a professor. When he got the job offer, she supported his decision to take it. They uprooted their comfortable life away from their family and their friends, and she didn't once complain. As a photographer, she could capture moments with pictures anywhere.

She used to ask him to put aside grading papers for a while to spend some time with her and their son.

So he started staying later at work to avoid an argument over priorities.

When he would call her in between classes, it was always the same thing. What time are you going to be home? Can you try to make it home at a decent hour? There's stuff around the house I need your help with. He thought she was being selfish. He was working his ass off to provide for their family.

So he stopped calling.

He realizes now that she was just lonely. She needed him, and he wasn't there. Now, instead of going to him, she goes to a therapist.

She doesn't even believe her life is worth living anymore. He did that. He made her feel worthless, unwanted.

Climbing onto his side of the bed, he does something that used to be familiar.

He pulls her to him and holds her close, not planning on ever letting her go.

In a tearful, hoarse whisper he tells her how sorry he is, how much he loves her. He makes promises to be that man again. The man he used to be. The man that called in the middle of the day just to hear her voice and tell her he loved her. The man that knew what she needed before she asked. The man that held her close every night.

He just hopes it's not too late.