Disclaimer - I do not own Twilight or its characters. No copyright infringement intended

This story is fictional.

The inspirations were real.

Story Banner made by Shahula can be found on my Facebook - Ifyouweremine Fanfiction

My fics wouldn't be the same without help from my lovely friends Fran and Shahula. Not only do they help with the story, but they make me a better writer and person. They're all kinds of awesomeness.


April 13th

A day I'll never forget.

The two cold, stone memorials haven't changed in five years.

Same names.

Same dates.

All the reports indicated that I did nothing wrong. The truck ran the stop light, striking our vehicle. I never remembered anything from the accident, and no one knew how I could have survived the crash. I was the sole survivor. Even the driver of the truck died.

Some called it a miracle, and after seeing the pictures, I agreed.

An angel had my back that night.

Should I feel guilty?

Had he lived, my dad would have pinned the blame on me, somehow. Maybe it's his spirit who haunts my dreams … causing my nightmares. The tears I shed at the funeral weren't for him. To this day, I'm not sorry he's gone. He was a miserable bastard, and he never loved my mother or me the way a man should.

My mom was beautiful - inside and out. I still dream about her, and if I concentrate hard enough, I swear I can hear her voice. I know it's crazy, but at times, I even feel her with me. She truly cared about what I wanted out of life. I'll never understand why she stayed with my dad. They were complete opposites—positive and negative energies.

What would they think of me now?

I certainly didn't live up to the old man's standards. His Ivy League fantasies died with him that night. He never cared about what I wanted, and nothing was ever good enough for him. Instead of praising my accomplishments, he only emphasized on improvements.

My mom encouraged me to follow my heart and my dreams. Everyone but my dad saw the potential I had with the career path I desired. He wanted a lawyer for a son, not a counselor or teacher.

After the accident, with both my parents gone, I became emancipated. An inheritance provided financial support, and I had good grades in school. My teachers and counselors spoke on my behalf, too. I was a good kid, but losing my mom really fucked me up. I partied hard for a while and was on a path of destruction until my guidance counselor introduced me to Coach Carlisle Cullen.

He showed me an alternative way to vent my anger and frustration through boxing. It took some time, and I almost gave up, but after a few months, I really began to see a different me. I ended up graduating high school on time. Afterwards, Coach Cullen offered me an assistant coach position; working with the younger fighters. Before long, I realized I'd found my calling.

Through Coach Cullen's son Emmett, I met my best friend Jasper Whitlock. The three of us became inseparable; like brothers. That was until Rose Hale came into the picture.

Emmett liked her, but she liked me.

We had dated a few times, but I couldn't commit to her. She and Emmett dated after that, but when the paternity test proved Rose's baby was mine, I felt stuck. I tried to make it work ... even married her. But we were like oil and water. It was my mom and dad all over again, and I refused to raise my daughter that way.

Grace deserved better.

Emmett's sister Alice and Jasper finally convinced me that leaving Rose wasn't a complete failure. I had tried my best. Rose was a bitch and hard to please. She wanted to control everything - my friends, clothes, and even how I cut my hair. She despised boxing and didn't understand why I spent so much time at the gym. Eventually, I'd had enough of her guilt trips and accusations. She always told me that I cared more about the kids at the gym than my daughter.

After eight months, we ended our marriage. I gave her everything she wanted - just to be out. In the end, the judge granted me visitation every other weekend and on major holidays, plus six weeks for the summer. I also agreed to Rose's added clause of no one of the opposite sex in the home during Grace's stays. Yes, it was a controlling bitch-move on her part, but she had me by the balls. It was that or supervised visitations with my daughter, which I didn't want.

Three months later, Rose married Emmett. She claimed he was a better man and knew how to satisfy her. We all know the truth; Emmett worships her. He kisses her ass, and she loves it. It's fucking demented if you ask me, but to each their own. Rose is a good mom, I'll grant her that much, and Emmett treats Grace as his own.

No issues there.

Emmett, Rose and I are civil and tolerate one another for Grace's sake, but we're not as close as we once were.

I've made some bad decisions, yet I have no regrets.

I've lived and learned from my mistakes.

April 13th.

A bittersweet day for me, every year.

My mother's birthday, and ironically, the day she died.

It's also Grace's birthday.

She has my mom's hazel eyes and her dimples.

A smile spreads over my face as I bend down to replace the old daffodils with fresh ones. I also lay a picture of Grace and I down next to them.

I softly whisper, "I love you, Mom. Happy Birthday."

My dad's grave is intentionally bare, like always.

As I walk back to my car, tranquility washes over me. I stop and close my eyes before rubbing my hand over the ink on my right arm.

I can feel her with me.

Thank you for reading.

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Until next time - Jenn