The Twilight Twenty-Five
thetwilight25 dot com

Prompt: #12
Pen Name: MariahajilE
Pairing/Character(s): Edward/Bella
Rating: M
Word Count: 500

Photo prompts can be found here:
thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts

Bella's body jolted as the front tires of her car hit the bumper. She scrambled to open her door as quickly as possible, forgetting to lock the car after she slammed her door close.

And then she ran.

She ran through the parking lot as fast as her legs could move, scanning the area for his car. The fact that she didn't see it almost made her come to a halt.


She fumbled with her keys, trying to find the correct one to let her into Edward's building. She'd never had a problem finding it on the first try before, and she almost burst into tears at the frustration of not being able to find it now.

Once inside, she ran straight for the elevator, not even acknowledging Marcus at the security desk. She'd been in that building more times than she could count, so her presence was expected.

What Bella didn't see was the look of pity on his face as he watched her run, knowing full well what she was going to find.

"No. No no no no no. Fuck!"

Bella slapped the maintenance sign on the elevator door. She hit it again for good measure before she finally began to cry. Through blurry vision, she reached down, removed her flip-flops – not giving a fuck where they landed – and pushed through the door to the stairwell.

Barefoot, out of breath, and regretful, she ran up the stairs with every ounce of energy she had left. Every step echoed, every echo brought on a memory, and every memory made her push herself harder. Every time she passed a floor, the ache in her chest grew, the weight in her stomach became heavier, the pain in her head increased.

By the fourth floor, she was ready to give up. By the middle of the sixth floor, her determination had returned. By the time she burst through the seventh floor door, she was ready to throw up, the exertion of running up the stairs and the emotional turmoil too much for her body to take.

But she kept on running. She ran down the hall, past the elevators, and made the left turn she'd rounded many times before. Two doors down on the right is where her eyes fixated, where so many memories were made.

Every surprise breakfast in bed.

Every movie night.

Every rush out the door for work.

Every pant and scream and moan when he fucked her.

Every dinner with a family member.

Every blowjob in the kitchen.

Every silent treatment.

Every "I love you."

Every argument…

The air was violently pulled from Bella's lungs when she opened the door.

Everything was gone.

No yard sale sofa, no refrigerator drawings made by Emmett's daughter, no curtains sewed by Renee.

And as she walked into the kitchen, her eyes were drawn to the counter, to the piece of paper with Edward's handwriting, to the ring that sat beside it.

I wish you would've let me love you.

Thanks be to MrsSpaceCowboy for pre-reading.