Love Aint Enough

A/N: ok I know, I posted this already, but here is the deal…. This is the completed version. After I posted it a couple months ago, I gave up on it for a while… so now that I'm back, I have an ending. But fan fiction . Net, sent me a message the other day that they were threatening to take it down because I didn't have a disclaimer notice. That being said, I deleted the original and now am positing this one…

Summary: Rosalie and Royce are married but they can exactly say that they are the happy couple that Rosalie want to be. That being said, she takes matters into her own hands… Rated M for dark themes! All human! Current timing!

Disclaimer Notice: Stephanie Meyer owns all the characters, I just own the plot! That being said, ON WITH THE SHOW!

My name is Rosalie Hale-King. I am 25 years old. My husband, Royce King, was one of the most influential men in this city. He made the most money, went to all the "rich-y" functions, was close friends with the Mayor, and even attended his daughter's birthday party. I guess on the outside, he looked perfect. But on the inside, only I know he's not. Well, at least now I do. He's dead. Why? Well, that's a long horrid tale, I will tell, but he still had to die. Don't get me wrong, I loved my husband, dearly. But sometimes, even that wasn't enough…

Royce and I have been together, for what seems like forever. We grew up together because our mother's were as thick-as-thieves. We were practically neighbors. I was always at his house, or he was always at mine. We were never separated for too long, but even when we were younger, Royce wasn't half the asshole he is now…

Royce and I, were (not so,) forcibly wed at the age of 18, when we both graduated from high school. At the time, it didn't make a difference to me. I knew Royce my whole life, (and was probably dating that long,) but even then, I didn't see the warning bells. He was my beautiful constant, and I knew in high school that he was the only one for me. He would be the only one I could bare my soul to.

Our love for each other grew as time went on. I didn't see the difference between being his friend, and being his wife, (except for the added person in my bed every night,) there was no difference.

Royce and I wanted it all, happiness, children. The traditional lifestyle you get once your married. But of course, everything got in the way, well, for him at least.

See, Royce owns his own company, King Enterprises. The company makes about 2 million dollars a week, selling and manufacturing laptops. I think, to him, his job is his first love, which also brings us to where things took a turn for the worse…

Royce just left on his way to his first love, his job, of course, until I noticed he left his lunch. If I wasn't headed out that way to go see my parents, I wouldn't have brought it to him. But sadly, I did, being the caring wife that I am, and I didn't want him to go hungry.

At my parents house I couldn't help but be happy. I was daddy's "little princess", and mommy's "little helper". Being around my parents, always brought joy in my life. My parents have been together 18 years, and are still madly in love. When I was younger, around the age of 13, I would always see mom and dad laughing, kissing, holding hands, things I thought my parents should never do in front of me. But as I got older, I celebrated them. I wanted my marriage to be like theirs. The love they had for each other! The way they looked at each other, they were really two parts of a whole, the way they fit together. And now as I look back, it makes me sad that I left my loving home, and into the madness that I'm in now.

After I left my parents house, I went straight to his office. I was stopped by his assistant, Veronica as soon as she saw me.

"Rosalie, hello. I 'm sorry, Mr. King is in a meeting at the moment. If you could wait about 5 minutes, he should be done by then."

"That's ok, Veronica. I'm just here to drop off his lunch and I'll be on my way," I replied.

I walked into his meeting room where I found Royce, giving a presentation, and about 5 men in suits and ties, approving of what they were seeing.

He stopped mid-sentence when he saw me, and then introduced me to his business partners. I say a small "Hello," to all the people, and show him he forgot his lunch. He takes it and says, "See men, you should all try to find a wife like mine, she loves me enough to bring me food." the other men in the room started to chuckle.

I smile shyly, and kissed him on the cheek, I was headed back home.

When I did make it home, I waited on Royce. He always worked late, and he never seemed to have any free time. He was always so stressed out about the company. Stressed that the company might loose a dollar or two here or there, irritated by people, and a seriously bad attitude to match. I felt bad for him.

I did everything I could, to make his life easier. I made him breakfast and lunch in the morning, ran a bath when he asked, refilled his shot glass when it was empty. Helped him out of his work clothes when he was just too tired to move. Left food ion the microwave for him so he could eat dinner. Now that I think about it, even though I was a house wife, I was made more of a personal maid!

I had finally made it to bed, when I heard him walk through the door, He was stomping around, a sure sign of a bad day. I went back down stairs to greet him like I always did when he came late. He was already at the kitchen table with a glass of Scotch in his hand.

"Hey babe." I thought it would be a good to tell him I was awake. He seemed to be in his thoughts deeply. When he was stressed, I would always rub his shoulders to relieve the tension that builds there, until he was practically asleep in the kitchen chair from being so relaxed.

He threw back the Scotch and swallowed loudly, and slammed the glass down on the table. "What the hell was that?" he asked huskily, the burn of the alcohol.

I was confused. What was he talking about? My confusion must have been clear on my face, as he continued.

"Didn't I tell yo' ass a long time ago not to come up to my job? Huh?" he stepped closer to me.

I whispered a small "Yes." it always scared me when he drunk. It reminded me of when I was younger and I went to a wedding for my Aunt Sara. Her sister, Aunt Ella, was having an affair with the groom, Uncle Daniel. And when Aunt Ella drank…well, lets just say the wedding ended early and Aunt Ella had to be escorted off the premises. So when people around me started drinking heavily, I took precautions for everyone's safety.

He whispered back in my ear, "And what did you do?" I wondered why he asked me, when he already knew the answer.

My voice raised defensively. "I went up there, but I wanted to-"

My sentence was interrupted as I felt his right hand slam down on my cheek, hard. I didn't comprehend what had happened until I looked at him standing over me. "Did I ask you what you wanted to do?"

I shook my head slowly, as the tears trickled down my reddened cheek. This man was not my husband. My husband wouldn't hurt a fly, and yet the sting on my cheek reminded me that he did hurt me. The pain was excruciating, not the pain from when he slapped me. No, the pain I felt as I watched the man I had come to love turn into a monster. I was confused at to who this man even was. I just lost my husband. He was a stranger to me with a familiar face. I was astounded.

Seeing me , crying on the floor, he reached up to wipe my tears away, showing a reflection of the man he used to be. But, I still flinched away from his touch. This was not how it was supposed to be! This is not what my parents had. Who was this stranger they called Royce King, because he was no longer my husband.

As the weeks passed, I realized it truly was my fault. If I hadn't went to give him his lunch, he wouldn't have hit me, simple. I should have known better, he never liked to see me in a work setting anyway. But, him hitting me was unforgivable. Though he was tried to redeem himself, as the man he once was, I could see the monster in the angel's clothing so to speak.

As time passed thing went back to normal, sort of. He tried to make me think that him hitting me was just a figment of my imagination, little did he know, he had a starring role in my subconscious. Every dream, worst than the first. But being the good wife that I am, I would never tell Richard, I would hate to think of his reaction! Would he be mad? Would he try to hit me again? I've been doing everything in my power to keep our home life "under wraps". I shudder at the thought of his perfect image, crumbling down.

The people in this town were already pressuring us into having children and asking when Richard is going to have a little boy to help keep the family business afloat. We both wanted to kids, and have a happy marriage. That should be simple, right? That was until I came home from the doctor's office one morning…

I was on my way home from the doctor's office, sadly the news wasn't as good as I hoped it would be. I knew it would probably hurt me physically, to see Royce's pain when he finds out that there is no chance, of me conceiving a child.

When I woke up this morning he treated me like I was his princess again , like I was his treasure. He was so excited to see that there was even a small chance of him having a smaller version of himself. He even made me breakfast this morning, something he never does (He says it's a woman's job to stay in the kitchen.).

Now, as I walk through the door, I was attacked with his questions.

"Honey! Hi, have a seat. So, How did it go? Can I expect a boy or girl anytime soon?"

I sat on a stool in the kitchen next to the bar. I shook my head slowly, resisting the inevitable. "No. The doctor's said I am not able to conceive, something about my hormones." I trailed off, not knowing what to expect.

He started to pace the kitchen. "What do you mean, your not able to conceive? You're a woman, are you not? What does all this mean?"

I looked at him like he had three heads. I could feel my eyebrow arch, silently asking "excuse me?" I thought I was speaking English. And did he just question my womanhood? That had me at no end.

"It means, there is no chance you are going to get a child out of me." I snapped. I even hated the words coming out of my mouth. I wanted a child to call my own. A little girl that I could spoil with love, and watch her grow, or a little boy who would hide behind my pants leg on his first day of school. I wanted it all, and now, I couldn't even get it because of some fluke. Life just didn't seem to want to give me a break!

He stopped pacing in front of me and stops to look me in the face. He slapped me hard, I spun and fell off the stool, and then everything went black…

When there was light again, I was in pain. I couldn't breathe well, and I felt like I was ran over by a truck. I looked around to find that, I was in a hospital. "At least he had the decency to call an ambulance for me," I thought warily. Looking around the room, I saw all the flowers and cards saying, "get well", and "I hope you feel better!", from all my friends and family. Then I noticed the orange Lilies on top of a counter, and immediately knew who they were from, Royce. Luckily he wasn't nowhere to be found. He was more than likely at work trying to make "everyone's life better and easier, with a King laptop" (I could probably tell you the whole commercial. I have seen it and heard about it so many times!)

After taking in my setting, a nurse came in to explain my injuries. "Good morning, Ms. King. How are you? I'm nurse Taylor. Do you need anything?"

She looked like a very friendly woman, someone I could easily get along with, but I was in no mood for pleasantries. "What happened to me?" I asked tentatively. I took notice that I was still very tired and was slowly on the brink of falling back to sleep.

"Well, Mrs. King, when you arrived your husband said that, you tripped and fell and hit a step on the way down, and then some kind of object landed on you. Which resulted in you having a concussion, and a few cracked ribs. I'm sorry, would you like anything to eat? You have to be hungry, you haven't had food in over twelve hours!"

I was going to respond with a "I'm not that hungry," but she left before I could even get a word out.

So, I had a concussion, probably from hitting my head on the edge of the bar. The ribs were a mystery to me, but it did explain the breathing problem. But I had a suspicion that Royce must have punched me in my ribcage after I blacked out, or something.

Stuck in my reverie, I didn't hear the nurse come back in with my breakfast, and my best friend Valerie, who was currently by my side and was waiting for me to be discharged.

Valerie and I, have always been close. Royce, Vera, and I were kind of a trio in high school. I wanted to tell her about our home life. I wanted to tell her how I really ended up in the hospital, but something stopped me. It was like she was tainted by him, because as we were making the drive back to my house, she only had good things to say on Royce's behalf.

"Royce wanted me to tell you that he loves you, and will see you when he gets home tonight, said he had something special for you…" she trailed off trying to focus on the path we were driving on.

"Special?" I asked. That word worried me, and the memories assaulted me again, as silence filled the car.

"I hope he never comes home…" I thought as we turned in the driveway.

Pulling in the driveway and unlocking the door, Vera looked at me expectantly. It took me a minute to realize, she was waiting on me to get out the car.

"If you need anything, just call me." my best friend assured me.

I smiled and return and made my way into the house. Going straight to the kitchen, where the "accident" happened, I let the memories hit me like a bowling ball. I was tired, I was fed up and, I was ready for all this crap to stop. Sitting in that kitchen, I formed a plan. A plan I hoped to God would work, and that one day God would forgive me for. But this had to stop and it was going to stop now!

For dinner tonight I made meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and steamed vegetables, but only for me. I'd had enough of this shit! I was tired of him beating me, verbally and physically without a reason (not that I wanted him to have one!). As they say "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned".

He came home early today. Good. I can make this quick and easy. He came and sat down at the kitchen table, and looked at me expectantly. He wanted me to fix him a plate.

I looked at him said, "Hi, honey," smiled, and went back to eating. He sighed agitated and mumbled under his breath, "Useless bitch".

I changed my mind. I got up and got the ladle and got a bowl for the vegetables. When he finally sat down he had his back to me. Bad move my friend, Bad, BAD move.

"How was work honey?" I asked to be sure he wasn't suspicious of my plotting and planning. I had to act like everything was fine.

He still didn't turn around. "Bitch, I told you not to talk to me about work. Now give me my damn food!" He yelled at me.

I was about this close to slamming this ladle upside his head, but collected myself and went back to the plan.

I smiled innocently, and in a sweet and what I hoped was a loving voice said, "Of course baby, I just have to reheat the vegetables. They seem to have gotten cold from me waiting on you." I laughed easily, like it was nothing sitting around waiting on him. But, the vegetables didn't need to be reheated, I just wanted the water to boil.

I fixed his meatloaf and mashed potatoes, and passed him the plate. When I turned back I gave him the silverware he needed to eat with, when I spotted the butcher knife. I was ready to fight.

"Bring me my vegetables, now!" he yelled when he thought I was stalling. Maybe I was. I loved him and I was tired of him hitting me and calling me a bitch, but was I ready to kill him? I thought back to all he did to me in this house, the answer came quickly.

"Ok," I said sweetly.

I picked up the pot off the stove and said, "Here you go," before I threw the whole pot at him.

He screamed as the contents burned his face. I watched as he screamed, wondering if he felt how I did. Betrayed, hurt, astounded, mad, pissed, any word would do.

Then I grabbed the knife and stabbed him. Stabbed him for all the false love he had for me. Stabbed him for these damn memories he's burned into my head, for every injury I've endured at his hand. I stabbed him in his stomach, his chest, but the thing I stabbed the most was his already dead heart. I stabbed him until I was out of breath and his figure was blurred by the tears in my eyes.

Never in my life did I think I was capable of this tragedy. Though it was well deserved, I still cried. I cried until there was nothing else in me. I had nothing more to give. I killed him and I knew it as soon as I stopped. But in the end I never felt guilty. I was almost giddy that I wouldn't have to deal with him lurking in the darkness, ready to strike at me again, it was a kill-or-be-killed situation.

Leaving his body on the kitchen floor, I went to pack a bag. I knew I was going to be on the run. Though I was happy he was dead and understood my reason for his demise, I didn't think the public would approve of my reasoning and would surly send me to prison. With that, I took everything of value, my jewelry, my clothes, and my miserable hopes and dreams, and walked out.

I went into the garage and found a drum full of gasoline and poured it out around the house. I went in my car and found an old lighter from when I smoked cigarettes and threw it at the house. I got in the car and started driving down the street, with my burning house in my rearview mirror. I didn't know where I was going but I knew I had to get away from here.

I loved him and I knew it. But sometimes…love just ain't enough.

A/N: finally! I'm done with this story for now. I was thinking about do a sequel where she meets Emmett, but it all depends on how the wind blows. I REALLY would appreciate it if you guys would read and review this story for me!


* Mz. Hollywood 3 : )