Authors Note: Hi, so this is my first story, so please be gentle! This story isn't perfect, and unbeta'ed. I don't own Twilight or anything relating to it but I do love to read these stories, and now write them too :)

Song for this chapter if you would like one: NothingMan - Pearl Jam

~ Chapter One ~

Edward

I had been here since late afternoon, sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of the room, waiting for her to come home from La Push. I sat in silence, staring out the window, watching the sky turn from a warm orange through to soft pink, and then darkening further into to a deep bluish grey hue. As the hours passed, still I sat watching as the sunset receded, and the moon coated everything in a silverly tinge. Finally I shifted and looked down into my lap, feeling the last smoulder of hope inside my chest extinguish completely.

Rising from my seat and moving toward her window, I looked out into the moon drenched garden below, savouring the memories of being in this room that roll one by one through my mind. The air is still, not a breath of wind ruffles the leaves in the trees. The silence in the air feels pressing, ominous. Much like the crisp white envelope I hold in my hand. The small item feels like it weighs a tonne.

I turn slowly, my eyes resting on the unmade bed, the lavender sheets still pushed haphazardly aside from her hurry to get up this morning. The bed smells like us. Her scent mixed with mine after hours spent lying next to each other. My eyes drift further along to her bedside table, the photo of us from her eighteenth birthday sits proudly in its frame next to the dog-eared copy of Wuthering Heights she loves. My eyes turn further still, scanning the chest of draws, the wardrobe, the mirror… the dream catcher…

I feel the cracks in my chest split a little more, feeling the weight of what I am about to do press firmly on my shoulders and into my heart. But it must be done. I move from my spot by the window, stepping around the clothes littering the floor as I make my way towards her bedside table. I pause staring down at the photo of us, at the love of my existence, willing to be back in that moment just for a second. Back in the warmth of her gaze, her chocolate brown eyes shining with love and adoration.

Shifting forward I slowly lower the envelope meant for my beloved. At the soft thunk of the envelope touching down on the table, my stomach drops and despair pours through me. Swallowing the feelings down, I remind myself that this is for the best, this will give her the freedom she so craves. I rest it carefully against the frame, dragging my fingertip softly over the name written on the front.

Standing and turning back towards the window, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and let out a despondent chuff. The flat, black eyes hold no life. My skin is pallid, far more than normal, and sickly looking. Not even the hint of a smile on my lips. I look back to the photo, at the mischievous glint in my eyes and slight grin on my face. I have become a shadow of the man that stood that living room. I can't remember the last time I had smiled. I wonder if she remembers.

Dropping my eyes from the photo, I make my way back to the window. You can do this. You can do this for her. This is what she wants. You can do this. I take one last look around the room, willing her to burst through the door, to apologise for being late as she has for the past two months, for her to look at me, to touch me. Even without Alice's gift, I knew it wouldn't happen. I couldn't remember the last time she had actually seen me.

Turning to the window, the finality of the moment settles over me. My stomach drops, lead lining my belly and the crack in my chest splinters and shatters completely. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to hold the feeling inside while clutching at my middle and fighting the urge to retch. After a few minutes, I stand, resting against the window sill.

"Goodbye, Bella…" I whisper to the empty room, then pushing myself forward through the window, I drop like a dead weight to the ground.

Phew. So, what do you think?