So last weekend someone let me listen to the CD 'Our Version Of Events' by Emili Sandé.
I immediately fell in love with the song 'Suitcase' and it inspired me to write this fic.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight and I have no rights over the song lyrics used in this story! No copyright infringements intended, the story was not written for any personal gain, financial nor otherwise.

I was tired as hell as I turned into our street and noticed his car parked at the curb. I shook my head slightly, trying to come up with a reason why it wouldn't be in the drive. As far as I knew this would be a quiet evening together. I've been longing for a quiet evening together. I needed him more than ever. For him to hold me, for me to hold him, for us to look into each other's eyes and know how much love there was between us.

The last couple of months had been rough as fuck and I hadn't been there, I hadn't been home. Not really. I was there physically, but mentally I was always caught up with work. It was breaking him, he'd become more withdrawn than ever and I knew I seriously needed to change things. That's why I took tonight and the rest of the week off. I wasn't even sure I would ever go back.

I hoped that tonight we could order in and cuddle up on the couch. I would run my fingers through his hair, the way he used to love and tell him how much I loved him. I would hold him in my arms where he belonged as we would watch a movie together. His body would warm mine like it always did and he would draw small circles on my thigh.

We would be okay.

I pulled the car into the drive and shut it down. Leaning back against the head rest and closing my eyes, I grasped the tiny box through the fabric of my jacket. It was still there, it had been for the last 6 months. Maybe tonight I would finally find the courage, maybe tonight I would finally ask him, maybe tonight he would finally say yes.

I eyed my briefcase through the rear view mirror and decided to leave it in the back seat. I wouldn't be needing it, I didn't want anything work related in the house for the next 7 days. I would show my wonderful man that he was all I wanted, all I needed in my life and hopefully he would believe me.

It wasn't like he never told me he hated my job, he told me daily, begging me to take on a lesser work load. I couldn't though, it was all or nothing. But I finally pulled my head out of my ass long enough to realize this job wasn't what made me happy, he was and I would let him know that he meant more to me than anything else in the world.

I opened the car door and got out, locking the car up before making my way to the porch. I was finally home, actually, really and completely home. I corners of my mouth pulled up as I pictured the way he would smile when I told him he would have my undivided attention for at least the rest of the week and possibly forever.

Fumbling with my keys I finally got the right one and opened the front door. I couldn't wait to kiss him 'hello' and pull him into a tight embrace. I needed to hold him and feel his body against mine. It had been way too fucking long since I felt his skin against mine. Way too fucking long since I had really kissed him apart from the quick pecks in the mornings before I went out and the evenings when I got home.

We used to sleep in each other's arms, his chest flush against my back, his hands on my stomach as I could feel his soft sweet breath in my neck. Not any more. I had to stay up late most nights, finishing up some presentation or report that I needed the next day. By the time my head hit the pillow, he would already seem to be asleep. I would kiss the top of his head and try to cuddle up against him, but he would always roll away from me immediately, leaving me watching his back as his chest rose and fell fast enough to tell me he was awake. Each time it pulled at my heart, each time I felt rejected and each time I knew it was my own fucking fault.

I took a deep breath and hung my jacket on the knob. "Edward? Baby? I'm home," I called out, but there was no answer. I took the little box from my jacket and slipped it into the pocket of my pants. I gave it a tight squeeze. This would be it, this would be the night. If anything, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him and it was about time I told him as much.

I popped my head around the living room door and frowned when he wasn't there. I was always there when I got home, reading a book in the comfortable rocking chair by the window. A slight tinge pulled at my chest, but I pushed it away. Something was off with the room, though I couldn't quite put my finger on what exactly it was. Like something was missing. I scanned the room once more to figure it out, but shrugged when I didn't see it.

"Edward, baby? Are you up there?" I called up the stairs when I walked back into the hallway. There was still no answer, but I could hear a drawer close. Maybe he had his Ipod on, like he always had when doing house work. A smile teased my lips as I remembered how I used to find him when coming home early. He'd be all engrossed in his cleaning, wiggling to the music in his ears. I hoped I would find him that way now, thinking about what I would do if I did as I climbed the stairs.

I heard him rummaging in the en suite bathroom so I quickly made my way to our bedroom, visions of me pushing him into the shower and kissing him deeply put a grin on my face. I'd run my hands all over his fuck-hot body as he would close his eyes and throw his head back. I absolutely loved the way I could make him come undone with just my caressing fingers.

As I walked to the door of our inner sanctum, the sight had me frozen in my spot. The wardrobe was opened and his clothes were missing from it. The entire left side, empty. I couldn't fucking move, trapped like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming car, a freaking fright truck for that matter. I stood there as it ran over me and spattered all my hopes and dreams over the pavement of our life.

And as the open suitcase on the corner of our bed, the place where we fucked and cried and loved, registered in my mind from the corner of my mind, I felt my heart contract and a single thought invaded my mind: Please, somebody, tell me what's going on!

Was he leaving? Was he leaving me? Why did my baby have a suitcase? Why was all his stuff in it? Why? Why? Why? I wasn't able to voice any of my questions out loud as I just stood there, unmoving, unable to figure out what this fucking meant! I was here, I was home, I-.

My raving thoughts stopped in their tracks as Edward came from the bathroom with his hands full of toiletries. He didn't look at me, he didn't say anything, he just dropped everything carelessly into the open case.

"Ed," I started, but he walked back into the bathroom without acknowledging me standing in the doorway. I rushed after him, not exactly knowing what to say or do, but I had to say or do fucking something! I had to know what he was thinking, what he was planning! Fuck!

Edward, baby, please talk to me," I begged him as I watched him throw his hair dryer and razor in a plastic bag. "Please," I begged again, causing him to pause his movements for a second and breathe in deeply. I was sure he would turn and face me, but he slightly shook his head and resumed throwing stuff into the bag.

I ran my fingers through my hair and hit the door with my free hand in frustration. He jumped, but otherwise didn't pay me any attention. Bile was rising in my throat, I dreaded the answers to what I so desperately needed to ask. Are you leaving me?The words still stuck in my throat when he turned and headed for the bedroom again. His eyes fixated on the floor as he brushed passed me.

The slight touch of his elbow against my arm left my skin burning. Savouring the faint connection, hoping it wouldn't be one of the last we'd have. God, don't leave me, please!

He moved to the side of the bed and picked up the photograph of his parents. That wasn't fucking right. It was as fucking wrong as it could ever be! It belonged there, on the night stand, next to the bed where he belonged. Where he had belonged for the last seven years!

Anger rose in my veins the longer Edward ignored me. Seven fucking years and he can't even turn to fucking tell me what was going on! Before he could place the framed photograph in his suitcase I threw myself over it, stopping him from packing anything else. "No!" I said roughly, wincing at the tight line his lips formed as his knuckles whitened around the delicate frame. "No!" I said again, this time nearly yelling.

Still there was no answer, not a single sound, nothing to give me the tiniest hope that this was all a misunderstanding. Instead he determinedly pushed me away from the case and lay the frame down on top of his toiletries. I caught his arm and tried to pull him closer, but he pulled it back and turned to the chest of drawers.

"What?" I started to ask and held my hand to my forehead, rubbing my temples with my thumb and middle finger. I dropped my hand with a defeated sigh and looked back up at him as he went through the drawers, rushing to grab his boxer briefs and socks. "Why?" I tried again, but couldn't finish the sentence. I brushed my hands over my thighs and cringed as my pinky brushed over the outline of the little box in my back pocket.

"What changed?" I finally managed to say, my voice sounding pained and distorted. I could feel tears burning behind my eyes, but I couldn't let them out. I couldn't accept that they were necessary. Not yet, not until he actually looked me in my eyes and told me we were over. Until he said he no longer loved me. Until he crushed all hope.

He threw his underlings into the case and closed it. The sound of the zipper ripping me apart from the inside out. Why wouldn't he even look at me? Come on! Fucking look at me! Tell me what I did wrong! Tell me what the fuck changed! Fucking answer me!

"Answer me!" I yelled out my last thought as I grabbed his arm, stopping him from going downstairs with that fucking suitcase! Stopping him from walking out the door! Stopping him from leaving me shattered and barely breathing! He was killing me! He was fucking killing me and he wouldn't even tell me what the fuck was going on! At least tell me why!

My breath caught as his eyes finally shot up to meet mine, but what I saw in them sent a shiver down my spine. They were as cold as his voice when he opened his mouth and said; "Don't touch me! Get out the way!" I had to bite back the bile as my stomach once again threatened to empty. I didn't understand. I couldn't fucking wrap my mind around it! What the hell happened that all of a sudden he felt the need to leave so sudden! That he could no longer look at me or talk to me!

I couldn't for the life of me figure out what I'd done wrong! Fucking liar! You know exactly what you did! Or what you failed to do! And that was the truth, because I had done nothing wrong. It was what I didn't do. Where I hadn't been. What I hadn't told him! All I did was love him and it wasn't enough! It wasn't nearly enough. I wanted to scream and shout and tell him I never saw this fucking coming, that he'd never given me an ultimatum! I wanted to blame him for my fuck ups, but I couldn't, because that was just what they were, my fuck ups.

"Don't!" I pleaded with him, his eyes still boring into mine, empty, void of all the love that they once held. "I'll quit! I'll do anything! Please, please, please, Edward, don't leave me! Please!" My voice was breaking. I was breaking! "I love you," I added barely audible, but he heard it, I could see he heard it. His eyes flickered for a second, emotions seeping through. I felt a minuscule flicker of hope, knowing it wasn't all gone. But my heart once again fell as he yanked his arm from my grasp and snared; "Too fucking late!" as he pushed past me and headed for the stairs.

I followed him downstairs, where he slipped his arms through his jacket and picked up his keys from the bowl on the side table. He sighed and halted another moment with his hand on the door handle before he opened the door. "Please," I begged one last time and he turned around, his eyes meeting mine. Tears were rolling freely from my eyes, wetting my cheeks and throat. Again I saw emotions in his eyes, but he closed them and when his lashes fluttered back open two hard green eyes looked straight at me. He reached for the door handle again and pulled the door open further. I felt helpless, hopeless, as I knew there was nothing I could do to keep my heart from leaving though the door.

The sound of the door crashing closed behind him shook me and I felt my knees cave. I pulled the box from my pocket as I slid down the wall and opened it. I stared at the sparkling diamond set in titanium and traced my finger over the inscription running over the inside of the band as I took out the ring. 'My beating heart,' it said, because that was what he was. I couldn't believe it. He was gone. But don't nobody, please don't ask me why. Because I knew I couldn't handle the answer. I couldn't handle knowing it was me.

It was all on me.

I hope you don't hate me now! I'd love for you to tell me what you think of this little fic by pressing the button that is riiiiiiiiiiiight...