Chapter 6 - Break It Up

Present Day - June 6th, 2018

"About you and Isabella Swan…"

She sat shaking and wet on a broken-down pier on the south shore of Long Island. She had a pretty face and a pretty voice, but she was a child.

"The rain set the stage, allowing the defiance in your lyrics to shine through. And it helped you to include us like we were all in it together, not just watching, but participating. Ironically, without the rain, I think the whole thing would have been watered down."

"Where'd you get that?" I asked because I couldn't believe those words could have been conjured from the girl in front of me.

"What?" she replied, confused.

The words were hers; a beautiful and apt review. Reassured about my antics on stage, I smiled gratefully and the girl's cheeks went pink. She ducked her head and shivered.

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen. Almost seventeen."

She didn't think to lie, which in one sense was a relief. She was a soaking wet kid, stranded behind an amphitheater. I'd been that kid. Defiant. Alone. Too fucking smart for their own good.

xXxXx

"About you and Isabella Swan…"

Isabella perched on the other end of the backseat, sneaking glances in my direction as she held Emmett's jacket closed, covering up the way my damp cotton face was plastered across her chest. Her wet hair left an edge of sodden cloth over her shoulders and down her back. I knew what Emmett was thinking about this ride, and I tried to convince myself those intentions weren't lurking in darker portions of my consciousness.

Even so, I was still self-serving. The world was full of people who might need my help, but this girl managed to see through all the nonsense spouted in interviews and she saw me perform. She saw Edward Cullen, not Edward Masen.

"Tell me the truth. What did you think of the show tonight? I think I can trust you'll be honest."

She smiled bravely. "I thought it was amazing. You were great."

She wasn't a convincing liar.

"That performance?" I pressed.

The girl closed her eyes and bit her lip, then shook her head. Her hands loosened their hold on the jacket and I spotted one of my larger than life eyes staring back at me. When she glanced at me again I shivered, somehow more exposed than I'd ever felt before.

"You seemed separate from the rest of The Masens. There was a space I think I heard in the music, but you guys are awesome and the rhythm section somehow held you all together, and you went all to pieces and then came back together over and over again. It all kind of went along with the rain, so I didn't think anything of it until now, but it was different from other shows I've seen videos of."

Staring right across from me was a kid who could state with poetic grace how The Masens were fraying at the seams, and how I'd left Jasper in charge of keeping us whole… when he could hardly hold onto his own sanity. I was a shit, made shittier because I'd picked up a kid to make myself feel better about it all.

"Our discord went along with your favorite part - the rain?" My voice was bitter. It was easier to tease than to think about the many ways I was an awful human being.

Isabella smiled, happy to be in on the joke. She leaned forward and my full face came into view from between the lapels of Emmett's jacket. "Don't take the rain personally," she whispered, sending chills down my spine. "Some things, like tsunamis, might just be bigger than The Masens."

"Bigger than The Masens? Blasphemy! You've lost your rights to that shirt. Take it off!"

The girl jumped in her seat, then shrunk back against the door.

I held up my hands. "That's not what I meant." My heart hammered in my chest.

"Um."

"Please keep your shirt on." I was an ass.

"Okay?" She tugged Emmett's jacket closed.

"This is where I should stop speaking." I looked out the window at the low pines rushing past as we sped down a desolate highway.

"You don't have to."

"But I should."

xXxXx

"About you and Isabella Swan…"

"Edward?" I was certain her voice was a delusion. I'd imagined I heard her shout my name dozens of times - on stage, in airports, outside recording studios and radio stations. Why not in an alley in New York City?

I nearly kept walking. I didn't want to compound the disappointment I'd felt when Emmett told me her house was empty. She was gone. Instead, I glanced over my shoulder and there she was, trying to push people twice her size out of the way. Her hair was shorter. Her skin was paler. Her cheeks were more angular. Her eyes were the same, though. My fucked up mind wouldn't have been able to recreate them. I hadn't seen those big, bottomless pools in over a year. It was her. I wouldn't lose her again.

"Edward?"

I'd told myself I was back in New York to see my mother, but right then, I knew the truth.

I was back in New York for her.

"Come on, Ed." Emmett wrapped an arm around my shoulder, trying to corral me to the waiting car.

"It's Trouble," I hissed in his ear.

"What, man?"

I nodded in Isabella's direction and watched as Emmett's eyes went wide with recognition.

"Bring her to the car."

"But, Edward -"

"Now," I hissed.

xXxXx

"About you and Isabella Swan…"

I wandered into the library to find Isabella lying on the couch with a book. She peeked out from behind the pages, but studiously went back to reading, her nose buried in the novel she held in her hands. I took a seat at the far end of the couch and reached for The Man in the High Castle, pretending for all I was worth to be completely engrossed, locating the page where I'd left off. My leg shook. I pulled at my hair. I tried to achieve a manner of comfort, but it was impossible.

I'd spent years ignoring the sparking electricity between us. I'd made a part-time job of explaining away our association in terms of gratitude and mutual aid. I'd flown back from London just to be near her, something I silently berated myself for on a daily basis. And now I wanted more, but I couldn't figure out where the boundaries lay.

Bella's chest rose and fell evenly underneath her oversized black T-shirt, and her cutoff shorts showed a decent amount of thigh. She stretched her legs and pointed her toes, and they were only inches from my leg. Her toenails were painted black.

"Ahem."

I glanced at my couch partner and realized she'd spotted me ogling her toes. My reading partner. My roommate, for god's sake. My everything. She could get up and leave and I'd be nothing again. I'd lose myself to my mind.

"Yes?"

"Do you know this?" she asked, holding out her book.

The Left Hand of Darkness meant little to me. "Something for your class?" I asked.

Bella shook her head. "No, I thought maybe it's something we could both, maybe, I don't know. I can't stand Dick, but this…"

I nudged her feet with my thigh. "You're opposed to -"

"Philip K. Dick." Bella blushed, pulling her feet away towards her, but boldly holding my gaze. "That Dick in particular." She nodded toward the book in my hand. "Not my cup of tea. Have you ever read Le Guin?"

I hadn't, but a trip to the local bookstore remedied the situation. Each day when she returned from class we'd meet in the library. She'd curl her feet beneath her and I'd stretch out on the other side of the couch. We'd snack on summer fruit, drink iced tea, and talk our way through the chapters, debating gender's influence on culture and society, while pulling apart the poetry of the writing. I poured over the novel page by page, dissecting every nuance, contemplating every turn of phrase. And when it was over we moved on to other favorites, sharing, speaking, enthusing. Pulling books from one another's hands, elocuting to one another in the little library. Finding a way to exist with one another.

xXxXx

"About you and Isabella Swan…"

Bella was soft and warm, holding me close underneath a tumble of down. Her breath was hot and damp on my neck. We moved in tandem, rolling, clutching, then trading positions to roll to the other side. The sun moved lazily from east to west, skirting the horizon, glowing dully behind lowered blinds.

She didn't ask me to get out of bed. She didn't ask me what came next. She held on tight. She'd murmur in her sleep curled on her side of the bed, then stretch on waking, then reach for me.

Until one morning when her regular snore and stretch was followed by a shudder. Bella's body went stiff with tension.

"I think I'm pregnant," she whispered.

"What?" I mumbled, certain I hadn't heard right. I reached for her. I needed her warmth. We were all I had. The two of us stowed away on a bed in an empty apartment while the world went on without us.

Bella pulled herself from my grasp, then pulled her knees to her chin and rocked.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She peeked from behind hands held over her face. "Pregnant?"

Had she forgotten? "You can't be."

Bella's shoulders fell. She faintly smiled. She cocked her head to the side, awash in relief.

"Why?"

"Birth control?" I sputtered.

"But -"

"You're on birth control," I repeated, willing her to accept it as truth.

Bella scooted to the edge of the bed, wrapping her arms tightly around her legs. She shook her head. "I don't know where to even get birth control."

"What the fuck?"

"It's been six weeks."

"But you said -"

"We've never talked about birth control."

"What the fuck were you thinking?" I yelled.

Bella curled tighter, a scared little ball on my bed. Her body shook.

She was pregnant.

xXxXx

"About you and Isabella Swan…"

Isabella curled underneath down, reluctant to wake up and face the day. She pulled my arm around her waist and held my hand, almost as if I were an anchor holding her securely in place. I'd wait until she drifted to sleep to slide from her resting grasp, and when I'd emerge from the shower I'd find her in the office, her computer switched off, curled on a loveseat, playing a game on her cellphone.

"Working?" I asked.

She shook her head without glancing in my direction.

"It's been weeks," I said, taking a seat next to her and pulling her feet onto my lap. Her toenails were painted black.

Her eyes met mine, her face lined with sadness. "I can't. It doesn't make sense to me anymore."

"I doubt it." No matter the trauma, Bella could always write.

"I'm serious, Edward. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know why I'm writing this idiotic thing." She waved her hand dismissively toward her desk. "It doesn't matter. None of it matters."

I clutched Bella's feet and pulled, until she was stretched out before me on the couch, then climbed over her. I pushed the hair from her face and kissed her until I felt her lips and limbs soften beneath me. "You're a storyteller. You string words together and give them meaning. People need meaning, now more than ever."

She shook her head. "A lot of good words do when the world's falling apart around you."

"It's always been falling, Bella. It's what you do while it falls that counts."

She shook her head. I recognized the frantic look in her eyes - from decades passed, my reflection in a mirror. So, I gave her what I'd always wanted back then, for too many years to count. I pulled her onto my lap and held her so she'd know she wasn't alone. She had the life I'd searched for decades to find.

"I'm too scared," she murmured, her face buried against my chest.

"I get it, Babe. And right now, the bravest thing you could do is face your fear. It's fucking hard. You know how fucking hard it was to ask you to marry me?"

Bella smiled up at me. "Your greatest fear was marrying me?"

I shrugged. "To ask. I was frightened out of my mind. Scared to ask you to move here as well."

"Scared of the burbs is more like it."

"Them too," I admitted. "But you should try taking life by the balls and look your fear in the eye. Figure out what exactly the thing is you're most scared of, and it can't go wrong. Look what it fucking got me? My dream come fucking true. And now the shit out back in the studio with Jasper? Own your fear and make it your bliss. I want the same for you, Baby. I've got your back."

"I'm not scared of my stupid story, I'll tell you that. It doesn't mean anything anymore."

"Throw it the fuck out. Start over."

"Alice is going to love this. You want to tell her, or should I?"

xXxXx

Jim clears his throat.

I startle and glance across the room at him. I'm certain he intends his smile to be reassuring, encouraging even, but the way he leans forward in his seat and holds his breath gives away his nerves.

"Yes?" I ask, like he hasn't been waiting for eons for some kind of response. I can't remember what he's asked me. I've lost track of time again. Hell, I lost track of the green room.

"Is it safe to assume Isabella Swan inspired large portions of this album?"

xXxXx

June 29th, 2017

Dearest Isabella,

I've heard from our family and friends you spend much of your time writing these days. Alice tells me you're in one of your 'fever states' where she must remind you to eat and sleep. I wish we were together so I could be the one feeding you, then bringing you to bed with me. I understand I have no one but myself to blame for the loss, for these circumstances.

I'm sorry, Isabella. I'm sorry I kept such a monumental medical decision from you.

Please know the joy I felt in your presence over those months was real. All my words and actions through last summer, fall, and then winter, were completely authentic. Please understand I don't want to mask those feelings in order to share your home. I want to feel the world with you. I want to bask in its beauty and take shelter from its cruelty with you.

Do you remember the song I first whispered to you last summer? The song I'd hum last fall when I'd hold you and try to calm your nerves and ease your anger? I kept it from you, waiting on perfection, for the moment it felt ready to share. Now the song is fully formed, but you're gone.

I'll always seek out your opinion, for now, and for always. Enclosed you'll find the first track from my forthcoming album. I know you were wracked with questions when I sent you tracks as a teen. I couldn't have answered those questions back then, but I can safely do so now. Yes, Isabella. This song is inspired by you - by your spirit, your life, the way you make me want to be a better person. This song was first written after I asked you to marry me. After you said yes. Later, afterward, I watched you sleep by the light of the moon, and that night was more perfect than any other before it. I won't lose hope there might be a more perfect evening in our future.

In the words of my former nemesis, ours is a light that never goes out.

Yours forever,

Edward

xXxXx

Present Day - June 6th, 2018

Jim clears his throat again. I glance into his expectant eyes.

"Yes, Isabella was the inspiration for several songs. She might be found in all of them if one knew where to look."

Jim glances nervously at the pad in front of him, then back at me. He's steeling himself to continue. "In Groupie, Isabella wrote about your first attempt at a solo album. About the, um, aftermath."

"Edward, I think I'm pregnant."

"She did," I concur.

"And you mentioned a minute ago how the book ends with a happily ever after."

I narrow my eyes. I clear my throat. I reach for my water bottle. Jim hasn't asked a thing.

"Did, um, did this album put your happily ever after in jeopardy, or is the album an answer to the way things ended?"

Jim is out of line and he knows it. His forehead glistens and he can't look me in the eye. I could raise my voice and he'd probably run out the door without looking back. I know I have the power. I've used it before. But my mind's on a different path. And I'm ticking through the moments in time, piecing together the actions that lead to my world crumbling around me.

I wince but try to recover quickly, smoothing the lines on my forehead.

I think about the bottle of pills on the ledge in the bathroom. There are some things I'm unwilling to disclose. I won't encourage irresponsible copycat behavior. I won't advocate playing with fire. I don't need that kind of company.

"An album can't ruin a relationship, Jim. And don't get ahead of yourself. Isabella and I are still married."

xXxXx

December 28th, 2016

Over the years our Christmases have often come later than other people's. Lizzy spends Christmas and Boxing Day with Kate. Rosalie travels to see her kids. Sometimes Emmett travels for work. But this year it was as much because Bella would rather ignore the holidays and lay curled in a ball on the couch in her office.

Thea and I did our best, and our best was fucking phenomenal if I was being honest. Our home was decked out with boughs of holly and strands of popcorn and cranberries. We'd stay up to the early morning hours making hand-cut snowflakes and Christmas cookies. Without Bella to keep us in line, our tree rivaled the one at Rockefeller Center in New York City. I knew this for a fact because I'd been to New York to play a couple of tracks for some execs sniffing out my latest project.

Finally, a couple of days after the official holiday the rest of the world celebrated, our preparations all came to fruition and my family was complete. Bella managed to smile. She took refuge in hugs from Alice and Rosalie. Thea cuddled on her lap. In all truth, she was too big for cuddling, but I know she'd do anything for her mom. She knew Bella needed it.

Lizzy hummed along to carols and snuck sips of the punch Alice made in the kitchen. I knew she could legally drink back in London, but she knew it made me edgy. I appreciated the sneaking. Seth laughed at us both, so I retreated to the dining room where Jasper eventually found me setting the table for dinner.

"How are you?" he asked, settling into a chair.

I glanced into the sitting room. Bella was curled on the couch, but she wasn't alone. Seth was giving her a foot massage, and Alice was re-filling her wine glass. Lizzy and Thea were building a fire, even though it was warm enough outside for shorts and a T-shirt. Jared, Rosalie, and Emmett were going through the record collection, looking for the next album to play.

"All things considered, today's as good as it gets."

"Shit, Ed," Jasper drawled. He pushed his chair from the table and shook his head at me.

"What?"

His blue eyes were glassy as he waited me out patiently. I'd done the same for him, time and time again over the years. It was a game neither of us would win.

"It's been tough seeing Bella depressed," I explained, even though I knew it wasn't the explanation he was after. "These past few weeks have been…" I shook my head trying to find the right words. "She's always been my anchor, you know? I'm kinda lost here. We both are. But we're muddling through."

"She seeing someone about it?"

"Yeah, finally. But taking care of her's taken time away from…" I waved my hand in the direction of the studio.

Jasper tented his hands in front of him. "You know, kind of put the brakes on, just when people were chomping at the bit."

"Yeah, well, we can get back to it once holiday stuff dies down. Once Lizzy and Thea are back in school. Once Bella's feeling a little better."

"You're blaming Thea, Lizzy, and Bella for your shit?"

"What?" I asked, louder than I'd intended. I saw Seth and Thea glance in our direction. So I took a deep breath to tried to calm my nerves and concentrate on table decorations. There was a turkey in the oven I should check on. Not to mention the gravy. And I had a few surprise gifts stowed away in the studio.

"Listen, Jazz -"

"You sure this break from recording didn't have anything to do with me?" he asked.

"No fucking way. Playing with you's been golden. Like back in the old Masens days when you and me ate, slept, fucked, made music, then did it all over again. Better than it's been in what, twenty, thirty years? Maybe after dinner, after gifts, let's head back and see what we've got? Right now I've got to get the -"

"Ed!" Jasper grabbed my hand, holding me in place. "I don't think you're being honest with yourself here. It was right after I talked to you when you made yourself scarce. It's a pattern I know well, and it's not a healthy one."

I felt my jaw clenching, my chest tightening. "My family's in the other room."

"I know. It's my fucking point, Ed."

I glanced over my shoulder. Thea had pulled Bella up from the couch and was trying to get her to dance with Jared. Lizzy spotting me looking in their direction and pushed her cup into Alice's hand.

"Don't you think they should know what's going on?" Jasper asked.

"Sometimes people manage day after day, year after year, even though they're not the picture of perfect mental health. My wife's carpet was pulled out from under her. I owe her this care - without any other unnecessary concerns. She doesn't need anything else on her plate right now."

"You owe her this?" Jasper asked, looking me over from head to toe. "Is that what you're telling yourself? You're making this decision for her benefit? You think she'd agree, cause I know Alice wouldn't."

I pulled a chair out and took a seat next to Jasper. "Fine, you want to get real? When was the last time you fell off the wagon?"

Jasper shook his head. He ran a hand through his hair. I noticed his nails were bitten to the quick, ragged around the edges.

"Not so easy to talk about, is it?"

"Bowie," he said quietly, looking me in the eye. "The night we met him, it was the biggest fucking night of my life up to then. When he died…" Jasper shook his head again. "Two days and I was done. Just booze. No drugs."

"You try to hide it from Alice?"

"I can't. Maybe twenty years ago, but I can't lie to her. We've been through too much."

"And how do you handle hurting her?"

"It would hurt more if I didn't tell her. I don't want to be that kind of an asshole. Do you?"

Jasper was right. I knew I'd walled myself off to the thoughts he was trying to address. At first, it was a mistake. A slip of the mind. One day led to two. The world looked the same. I felt the same. Slowly, subtly, the world changed around me. Blank days filled with possibilities, with words, with melodies.

But where I first spent sleepless nights ruminating over the decision I'd somehow made, each day it became easier and easier to push those thoughts from my head. I didn't have to think about choices when my life was waiting to be lived. When there was so much for my brain to consider. When I had a family and a home and was working on a new album for the first time in forever. When I was thinking about getting a dog. Was there maybe a dog waiting in a kennel somewhere? Maybe a dog would make Bella happier. Give her a reason to get out of the house and get some exercise.

"Edward?" Jasper prompted. Quiet and patient.

I blinked and I was back in the dining room, a napkin ring hanging useless in my hand. Shit.

"It's been more than six months, Jazz." It felt like the words were being ripped from my chest.

"Why?" he asked, point-blank. It was a good question.

"I don't know if I can explain."

"This is a pretty big decision you can't put into words. Words are your thing. Always have been. But this isn't a fucking song, this is your life. So words or no, I'm telling you to make this right. Alice, Emmett, me, I guess it's old hat to us. It's just been a while."

"Do they know?" I asked, peeking into the sitting room. All looked well, but it wasn't like they'd be wearing letters across their chests spelling it out my mental status.

"Alice worries. It's her thing. But she hasn't asked, so I haven't told her. I don't know about Emmett these days. They've got their own issues with Royce's kids. But we get to get in our cars and drive the fuck away. Talk to the lady who you crawl into bed with every night, my man. She deserves to know where your head's at, at the very least."

"Fuck," I muttered. "You and Alice deserve the same. You're family. I wouldn't be here today without the two of you."

"Same, man. Kept each other on our toes, didn't we?"

"Kept each other out of our minds, more often than not."

"And Alice brought us back to earth." Jasper grinned as he gazed past me. His eyes practically sparkled. I wasn't surprised to hear the heels clicking on hardwood headed in our direction. Jazz leaned back in his chair, a lopsided grin on his face, his legs stretched out in front of him. Alice squeezed my shoulder on her way to his lap.

"What're you two whispering about?" she asked, slipping an arm around Jasper's shoulders.

"Just your knack for saving us from ourselves," he said with a kiss.

And I knew I was a shit. Before Lizzy, Bella, and Thea, Alice and Jasper were my family. We were The Masens. Jasper and I were out of our minds, but it was Alice who made us fabulous.

xXxXx

December 20th - 24th, 1975

It all started with shrooms - as all things started for Jasper back then - and It's a Wonderful Life, which was more of an exception. The reception on our tiny television was terrible. I tried wrapping aluminum foil around the rabbit ears, then got lost wrapping it around the television, and finally unrolled it like a silver carpet leading the way from the television to the couch. In the end, the only way we could see or hear anything was if I held the rabbit ears in my hands and twisted around, one foot braced against the brick wall.

Then Alice surprised me and Jasper both because she knew It's a Wonderful Life, line for line. She stood up in front of the television, turned down the volume, and acted it out. Barefoot, in her orange turtle neck and tight leather pants, grinning like a fool, she was George, Clarence, Mr. Potter, and Mary. It was perfect and ridiculous, and I fell off the couch, laughing. Jasper remembered the stage lights and shined them on Alice.

Newly emboldened, Alice literally pulled us across the floor so I could act the part of Sam, Jasper would stand-in for George, and of course, Alice would be Mary. Alice fed us our lines, and Jasper and I each used one of my boots in place of an old-fashioned phone. Alice gave Jasper strict instructions to get as close to her as possible as she talked to me on my boot.

"You're jealous," she instructed Jasper. "But you hate me because I'm holding you back from your heart's desire."

"I can't do it," he whined, literally hanging on her.

"Yeah, you can," she said, trying to push him upright. "You have to. For me? For Christmas?"

"It's not true," he protested. And I saw the pained, puppy dog look on his face and it may as well have been written across his forehead that she was his heart's only desire. I saw the writing. Clear as day. In a deep shade of orangy-red matching Alice's lipstick. I also saw dozens of cats climbing the walls, but they were easier to ignore.

"It's why it's called acting. Because you're saying things that aren't true."

I'd fallen back on the couch again, watching the two of them instead of the television. Alice trying to hold Jasper up and give him acting pointers, Jasper with my boot pressed to his face, his shirt hanging open, his ripped jeans hanging on his hips. No track marks then. Not yet. Not for either of us. Just the fun that came with independence. Just the fun from feeling invulnerable.

"Edward! Get back here!" Alice commanded, pointing to the floor at her feet, and I crawled towards them with a boot in my mouth because standing was inconceivable. Jasper's hand was on her hip, his face in her hair, my boot fell to the floor.

Alice jumped. "Get the phone, Edward!"

I turned around and started crawling toward the kitchen, to the phone we'd just installed on our wall, and Jasper fell down laughing.

"George, how am I ever going to kiss you if you're in a heap on the floor?" Alice asked, pulling at her hair in frustration.

"Kiss?" Jasper asked, rolling onto his back, staring up at Alice, thoroughly entranced with the idea.

"Only if Sam gets out of the goddamned kitchen and manages to make you jealous." Alice looked my way, silently pleading.

"What?" I mouthed.

Before she could answer, Jasper was back up on his feet and lunged, knocking me to the ground. We wrestled until he managed to roll me like a log to the living room, to Alice's feet.

"You better fucking make me jealous, Ed. Right fucking now," he said, and he was so serious I couldn't catch my breath, I couldn't see straight. Standing was impossible. So I kneeled at Alice's feet.

"Alice," I rasped into the boot.

"Mary!" she corrected me.

"Who?"

"I'm Mary. You're Sam. It's a wonderful life."

"It really is. Isn't it, Alice?" I asked. "You ever fucking dream of this?"

Alice put her hands on her hips. Jasper looked like he might tackle me again.

"Right," I said looking between them. "Jealous. Got it." I cleared my throat. "Hey, Mary?" I asked the boot, gazing up at Alice. "Remember the time I kissed you?"

"What?" Jasper asked.

"In your bedroom. You were getting undressed and I came in and told you I lo-"

"Those aren't the lines, Ed," Alice warned, looked between me and Jasper.

"Remember the time I walked in on you in the shower?"

"Edward," she hissed, taking a step away from the two of us, so her back was against the gray static of the television screen. Shadows of It's a Wonderful Life danced behind her.

"Remember the time you walked out of your room and I was fucking Siobhan, and you watched?"

"I didn't."

"And how all that's history since Jasper, I mean, George here, came along. You know how you dress up for him. Leather pants to watch TV at home at eleven on a weeknight? Really, Mary? You know how you ogle his ass when he gets up from the couch or a kitchen chair? You know how you play his music, Southern fucking rock when you're New York punk? You know how you wanted him to get shrooms tonight. To sit next to you tonight? To be George tonight?"

Alice and Jasper stared at each other. She looked frightened. He looked like he wanted to eat her.

"Did I make you jealous, George?" I asked, letting my boot phone fall to the ground.

George didn't answer. Neither did Jasper.

"You ever see her in the shower?" I asked. "Take it from me, you definitely should. Also, if you're jealous enough, you should kiss her. Let her know."

Jasper and Alice kind of collided in front of me. I sat back and let it all play out like an alternate, X-rated ending to It's a Wonderful Life for a while, completely satisfied at a job well done. Until I realized it left me utterly alone. I willed myself onto my feet, found a hat, one glove, two boots (which turned out to be Jasper's and were too fucking small), three joints, an assortment of pills, a partridge in a fucking pear tree, and left Alice and Jasper to themselves.

Snow was piled on either side of the sidewalk. Streets were full of brown slush. It was cold, but neon signs danced on the buildings and I watched them to pass the time. Shots of whiskey kept me warm until money ran out, until I was kicked out of a bar, until my pants were soaked, and I lost the hat and glove.

Until I couldn't find my way back to The Masens and I wasn't sure if it ever existed, so I rode the train up to Columbus Circle, like I always did, looking for Alice, like I always did. I didn't have a key, so I rang up to the apartment.

"Hello?" My mom's voice was thin, nervous. Bing Crosby sang Silent Night in the background.

"Ma!" I yelled.

"Hello?"

"Let me up!" I hollered. "I don't have a key and Jasper's fucking Alice and my pants are fucking frozen and I'm outa cash and I don't have my own shoes and I lost Jasper's pills and I should eat would you make me something and let me up?"

I banged on the door. Glass shook. Neighbors cracked their windows and peered down. I rang the buzzer again. And again. It was an A-flat. And again. It should have been an A.

"Ma! Mom! What the fuck?"

I pounded the door. I kicked it.

"What? You fucking got Dad up there? He keeping me out? He can go to fucking hell. You can go to fucking hell. Let me the fuck in the house!"

Finally, glass cracked with a little ping and zip, and the fissure inched its way from my feet to my face. And I reared up, head down, and charged. Glass shattered.

"Mom!"

I pulled shards of glass from the frame of the door. Blood trickled warm from my hands to my wrists, dripping on white snow at my feet.

"Mom!" Feet crunched over broken glass, over blood.

"Mom!"

xXxXx

"Maybe you should be on meds," Alice said after I was released from psychiatric hold.

Jasper hovered, but couldn't look me in the eye.

"Fuck you," I mumbled, but the words fell flat. I couldn't muster any bite. Everything was dull, gray, uninteresting. I picked at the bandages on my hands but lacked the energy to do any real damage. I made fists and my palms burned. I felt something.

"I'm sorry," Alice said and went to hold my hand. I pulled it away. Slowly. Everything was slow. I walked slowly to the cab they'd splurged on. Inside, White Christmas was playing on the radio. The words crawled across my brain as the cab crawled into traffic. Slowly.

"It's gray," I said, but my voice was garbled. My friends, too kind, ignored me instead of owning up to the fact I couldn't speak.

Jasper held Alice's hand. She leaned her head on his shoulder and tears slipped down her cheeks. My head fell against the window. It was cold, and my breath fogged it up. I rubbed my head on the damp glass in order to feel something. Cold. Wet. Hard. Slippery.

I closed my eyes and when I opened them, Jasper opened the door of the cab, and they both helped me up the stairs and I fell onto the couch.

"Meds?" Alice asked, pulling my feet onto her lap.

"Leave him be, Alice," Jasper said, and took her by the hand, back toward her bedroom. "Merry Christmas, Buddy. Glad we got you home."

xXxXx

February 15th, 2017

I made a point of plugging in my cell as soon as I got to my car and started the ignition. I tapped out a rhythm on the steering wheel while I watched the low battery sign out of the corner of my eye. I tried to remember the last time I'd checked my phone, but couldn't come up with anything since I took some shots from backstage.

I'd had an amazing night. Hip hop wasn't strictly my thing, but after an electric show at the Bill Graham Auditorium, Mike and I'd spent hours talking everything from New York City in the '70s, to police brutality, to third party political candidates. We'd traded tracks over greasy food, and joked about fan encounters and fame, his new, mine fading. I'd laughed and life was good and the air smelled like green grass and saltwater as we left the diner. I'd stretched and turned, trying to remember how I'd gotten from the stadium to the restaurant, trying to remember where I'd left my car, and that's when I saw the horizon. I'd stopped to appreciate black hills against the bleeding sky, blue-black to purple to electric orange.

I'd nodded to Mike. "As long as we can lift our eyes heavenward, there's beauty to behold."

"You're a crazy motherfucker," he'd replied, shaking his head.

I turned back to bask in the first rays of daylight. It had been ages since I'd watched a sunrise.

A sunrise.

Shit.

My phone's screen flashed to life, bringing my mind back to the present. Text and voicemail notices scrolled one after the next, after the next as the phone weighed heavier and heavier in my hand. My heart pounded against my chest. I chose Jasper's voicemail first.

"I'm sorry, Ed," the message began, his voice tired and grave. "I gave you the election, then the holidays."

I didn't listen to the rest. I knew what he had to say.

Bella had sent three texts.

Hey, babe. When are you going to be home?

1:13 am

Let me know you're okay. Okay?

2:14 am

Call me

3:01 am

I couldn't bring myself to listen to her voicemails. I didn't try timing them with Jasper's call. I ignored Alice's message. For a fleeting second I considered finding a hotel room, then escaping to Lizzy in London. But I knew it wasn't Lizzy I was after. For a good portion of my life, I'd been running away from New York to London, then running back again. It's what I'd done over and over with Alice, Kate, Jasper and the rest of the Masens. It's what I'd done to Bella the one time it mattered the most. Yet here I was, despite it all, happily married. I owed it to Bella to head home.

I started up into the hills, toward my family and the best six months of my life. After I spoke with Bella they'd be in my rearview. I didn't know what would come afterward, but I drove toward it. I tried to tell myself heading home signaled personal growth and mental health. Losing track of time and staying out all night was stupid, but it should have been forgivable. It would have been for another man with another malady.

I turned onto our drive and the gate swung open. Warm lights guided the way down the hill and around to the garage. A pale mist hung over the lawn like tired clouds had fallen from the sky, softening my landing. The house looked dark, and I couldn't help but wonder if Thea was awake or if someone had started packing her lunch. I wondered if Bella slept fitfully; if she'd sobbed on Alice's shoulder.

I pulled alongside Alice's car. There was any number of reasons she might have been at my house, but there was really no question why she was there this morning. My hand shook as I turned off the ignition and I closed the car door gently. If they hadn't heard I was home it gave me one more unspoiled minute of this life I'd created.

Dewdrops dampened my shoes and the edges of my jeans as I walked slowly up the path to the front door. My heart hammered in my chest as I climbed the steps, then rested, my head against the door. I waited for my heart to quiet, for my mind to clear. Birds chirped, unaware of my plight. A plane flew overhead. Distant footsteps came quickly closer. I thought I might vomit and stepped back as the door swung inward.

I glanced up to see relief flooding Alice's features. "Thank god you're okay."

"I'm fine, I just -"

My well-being confirmed; Alice's black eyes flashed with anger. "What the fuck, Edward Cullen?"

I rubbed my eyes and tried to gather my thoughts. "This has nothing to do with -"

"Don't dare finish the fucking sentence, you asshole. This is what I have to deal with now? After everything I've lived through?"

"I lived it, Alice. You watched."

"Really, Edward? Don't be a dick."

"Is Bella -"

"Maybe you should have thought about your wife before this morning. Before this minute."

"I've thought about nothing but Bella for months, Alice."

Alice shook her head. "I can't believe you fucked this up."

"Are you going to let me into my home?"

My friend narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips into a thin line, but stepped aside. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but the house looked the same as when I'd left. The living room was untouched and in order. The kitchen was dark.

"Is Bella awake?"

Before Alice could answer, Thea jogged down the stairs. She stopped short when she saw me in the foyer with Alice, the front door still ajar. "Are you just getting home?"

Instead of answering I closed the door and kicked off my shoes.

"And you stayed over?" Thea asked Alice.

"Something like that, Kiddo."

I kissed the top of my stepdaughter's head. "I told Mike what you thought of his support for you know who."

"Oh my god!" Thea cringed. "I don't even want to hear it."

"It might surprise you."

Thea clapped her hands over her ears. "La la la la la la."

"Hungry?" I asked, opening the freezer. Luckily there was a box of frozen waffles stashed in the back for mornings like these when I couldn't be trusted to measure flour, water, and milk.

"Sure."

"And that's that?" Alice asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"What's what?" Thea parrotted, looking between Alice and me.

"Could we talk about this later?" I asked.

"Oh, that's rich. When exactly would be the most convenient time for you? March, after you've purchased another mansion? April, when you blow up this album you've been working on? Or maybe May, from a sanitarium in the Alps?"

"What?" Thea asked again. "Alice?"

Alice shook her head. "Sorry, Kiddo. I should go. I had a long night."

"Um, okay?" she said, sliding onto a stool by the kitchen island.

Alice left for the den, probably to gather her things. The toaster dinged and I plunked two waffles onto a plate and ducked into the refrigerator for some butter and syrup where I tried to blink away unshed tears.

"Edward, what's going on?" Thea asked.

When I turned back to my stepdaughter, her eyes were wide with worry. Alice brushed past us, purse and jacket in her hands. "See you soon, Thea," she called.

"Edward?" Thea asked again.

"You should eat."

"What's up with Alice? Why was she here last night? How come you just got home?"

"Thea, please!"

The girl's eyes went wide as she froze in her seat, and for a moment she could have been Bella in the backseat of a limousine. Shit. My stomach turned. My mind reeled. I needed to find Bella. Thea needed to catch a bus. My heart felt like it was trying to beat its way out of my chest. I took a deep breath, hoping it might steady my mind and slow my heart. I closed my eyes and Bella was curled in a naked ball on an unmade bed as I threw dirty clothing into a backpack.

Then I glanced across the counter at Bella's daughter. "I lost track of time last night," I began.

"What's new?" she asked. "Happens all the time these days. You know, cell phones have clocks built right in."

"I know."

"You didn't call Mom, did you?" Thea asked between bites of waffle.

I shook my head.

"That's really lame."

"Definitely," I agreed. My chest ached. I wished it were so simple.

"Just call next time?" she suggested.

I silently nodded in agreement, not trusting my voice. Thea slid off her stool, came around to my side of the counter and wrapped her arms around me. "It's no big deal, Edward. I don't know what Alice's problem is. It's going to be okay."

xXxXx

Bella's eyelids fluttered when I sat on the edge of the bed. She yawned and stretched her arms, then blinked.

"Hey, there," I murmured. I kissed her forehead.

She smiled back at me, and just for a moment everything was fine. It was the way it was supposed to be. We'd go for breakfast and read the paper. We'd plant the magnolia we just bought by the back patio before Thea came home from school. We'd finish The God of Small Things, one of her favorite books. We were reading together again. In the past, it helped me feel saner. These days it was doing the same for Bella, along with weekly counseling sessions and a bottle of pills of her own.

It was a silly, indulgent second, where the life I'd made for us continued on forever.

The second passed. Bella's eyes flickered and she shot up and pulled herself away from me.

"I got Thea fed and on the bus. She's got lunch money."

Bella shook her head.

"I'm sorry," I began.

Bella folded her arms across her chest. "For what exactly?"

"I lost track of time. My phone died."

"Really?" she asked, pushing the blankets aside.

"I should get a new phone or a new battery at least. This thing can't hold a charge to save its -"

"Really?!" she shouted.

Bella slid out from underneath the covers, then stood over me. "You lied to me. Over and over and over again. For months?"

"I never lied to you."

"And you're sitting there on our bed and you're still fucking lying."

"I never lied, Bella."

"You lied to me!" she shouted. Her dark eyes flashed, her face was flushed. With her hand raised I was half certain she might swing at me.

"We haven't talked about my medication in what? Years?"

"Omission is the same as a lie, Edward. This is what you found the 'bravery' to do?" she challenged, making air quotes as she said "bravery".

"Living like this scares me to death," I tried to explain.

"No! Don't lie to me again. Stopping your meds didn't scare you to death. Do you know what you were really too scared to do? You were too scared to discuss any of this with me. Were you on your meds when you convinced me to buy a new home? To move away from Seth?"

"Yes. And for the millionth time, Seth lives just over ten miles from here, Bella."

Bella stomped from the room and I followed her to her office. The beginning of her most recent manuscript was projected on her computer's monitor. She'd taken my advice and was writing about her deepest fears. Eventually, she'd call it Groupie. She was afraid to let her readers know who she was. As a child, she was afraid she was no more than a groupie to me. I was afraid I was in love with her. We both had our demons.

"You had to know on some level," I explained. "Maybe you didn't want to admit it, because you're writing. I'm in the studio. You say something and it inspires me, and my music inspires you. We're creating together again, and it's even better than when we were back in New York because now we have our entire family cheering us on."

Bella glanced up at me in visible pain, as if what I'd said had the power to punch her in the gut. I wasn't certain what I said to make her feel so hurt, and I wished I could take the words back, whatever they were. I wanted to comfort. I tried to close the distance between us, but she stepped away, pulling her office chair between the two of us.

"Don't lie to me, Edward Cullen. Were you on your meds when you convinced me to marry you?"

I forced myself to face Bella head-on. I shook my head. "No."

"You bastard."

"You were happy. You said yes to everything. And look where it got us." I threw my hands out, indicating not just her office, but the orange glow of the sunrise over the bay outside her window.

Bella laughed bitterly as tears streamed down her face. "Yeah, look at us! I can hardly get out of bed each morning and you forgot how time works. You dick around all night with god knows who, and I'm wasting hours on a random writing prompt you gave me, and I was crying through the night and now I'm screaming through the morning, and -"

"Stop it!" I yelled. "Just shut the fuck up!"

The color drained from Bella's face. She looked frightened. I took a step. Than another. She backed up and my heart clenched in my chest.

"My body. My mind. My choice, Bella."

She narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"

"Ultimately, this was my decision."

"I thought you wanted to share this life. Isn't it why you wanted to marry me?"

"I spent the better part of my existence trying to share a life with you."

"And what happened to the promises you made?"

I saw us on our wedding day, the sun shining around Bella's head like a halo. The words had come so easy because my soul had been wedded to hers for almost a quarter of a century. "I kept every single vow I made to you."

Bella shook her head. She wiped at her eyes. "You told me you took your meds every day. Every night. You said you did it for Lizzy. What about Lizzy?"

"Lizzy's fine. She's at King's College. On the Dean's list."

Bella let herself fall onto the couch. Tears fell down her face as she gazed out the window. "So it was all for Lizzy? She's grown up and well-adjusted and Thea and I don't mean a thing to you? The hell with our well-being?"

"You know that's not true."

"Actions speak louder than words, Edward."

"I married you. That's one pretty decisive action."

"You want an award?"

"Sometimes I think I fucking deserve one. After everything I've done for you these past few months."

"What?" she asked, aghast.

"You heard me."

"What did you just say to me? Months? Months? Do you have any idea what it was like for me? Those months I had to live through when I was just nineteen? All the shit I didn't know how to navigate, and was just dropped into my lap?"

"Once. You did it once."

"Excuse me?"

"You lived through it once, and I spent years trying to make it up to you. To make myself the right kind of person to be with you. To deserve you. Look around you, Bella. My mental illness is hardly dragging you through the mud these days. These days I'm the one helping you."

"Helping me? I don't even know where I am anymore. I look around and I don't recognize this life. This house. This fucking book I'm writing. I don't recognize you. Up until this past summer, every day I woke up to you. Every day you made us coffee. Every night we'd talk before bed. I lost you, and now I know why."

"Did you fall in love with me for my reliability, Bella? Really?"

"I -"

"No. You didn't. You fell in love with me. And I'm still here. Loving you back. Loving our life. Living it for once."

"Well, I think I need you to live it somewhere else for a while."

xXxXx

Present Day - June 6th, 2018

"Right, I, uh, didn't mean. I don't know. My editor just -"

"Spit it out, Jim," I say. I know the words sound unkind, but so was his question.

"The entire world's reading Groupie. Or that's how it seems," Jim explains. His excuse makes sense. Bella's autobiography has been on all the bestseller lists for months. I'm sure it's what filled this stadium and sold out all the other arenas across the country. A decade's old scandal playing out right under the public's nose. Entire websites are dedicated to ferreting out old photos where a teenaged Bella was caught in the frame.

"And it's ironic, I suppose, because now that the world knows you two were together for such a long time, well, now you're not. It's an interesting angle."

"Angle?" I ask, sitting back, looking Jim over. He squirms in his seat.

"Sorry," Jim says.

"You want an angle?"

"I, uh -"

"Unbeknownst to most Masens fans, Isabella Swan's words inspired Edward Cullen's lyrics for more years than he can easily count," I dictate, nodding to the pad and the idle pen on Jim's lap.

The pen slips through Jim's fingers as he scrambles to pull himself together, clattering as it hits the linoleum. I wait for him to retrieve it on his hands and knees. I wait for him to write what I just said, before continuing.

"Her words continue to inspire him to this day. The only difference is, now she's inspiring others as well. And now, hopefully, she'll get the credit he was too afraid to give her in 1989."

A/N: A very angsty Merry Christmas from me to you.

Thanks to Patti Smith for writing Break It Up in 1975 in NYC. Thanks to SereneInNC for her beta skills during the holiday season. Thanks to Robsmyyummy Canbanaboy for pre-reading out of the blue. And special thanks to FictionFreak95 for pulling me out of my fan fiction slump, holding my hand, making me laugh, and giving me the courage to revisit this fic.

FictionFreak95 and I have some stories in the works. You can find links to our joint account, Belladonna and the Fiction Freak on my author page, and in my favorites. Follow, favorite, I promise it will be fun!