"Swan residence

A/N- This is the part in New Moon where Edward calls Jacob while pretending to be Carlisle. The difference here is, Bella talks to him. Oh, and I'm not sure why it says "'Swan residence" above, but please just ignore it.

"Swan residence."

There was a short pause as Jacob listened to whatever the person on the other line had to say. Then, abruptly, his eyes narrowed and he scowled.

Jacob ground his teeth together for a short second before he opened his mouth angrily. "He's not--" he began, but I yanked the phone from hand before he had the chance to finish his sentence.

"Hello?"

No one answered.

I tried again. "Hello? Um…is anyone there?"

Nothing.

I glanced up at Jacob. His face showed some of my confusion, but the anger had not yet faded from his features. But as I studied his face, I saw and edge of something else there, too. Disgust, maybe? But…why would Jacob feel that way? What would cause him to have such a flame of hatred in his eyes, to have his face twisted and distorted by what could only be revulsion?

There was only one answer to that, and my body reacted instantly.

My heart stuttered painfully, and a cold sweat broke out over my face. I felt my eyes widen and my mouth pop open into a surprised 'O' of horror. I tried desperately to hear over the ringing in my ears. My hands shook erratically as I struggled to gain control over my uncalled for reaction.

I didn't have much success. Instead, I stood still as a statue, wondering if my assumption was anywhere close to home—and, if it was, what in the world I would do.

What if it was him? The hole in my chest rippled threateningly—I was dangerously close to my heart's strike zone, practically inviting in the pain and despair. However, I pushed the thought away impatiently. If it really was him, I probably didn't have much longer before he would hang up. After all, he had left me. What interest could I possibly hold for him?

The thought brought on a new question. Why had he called me? Called your house, I corrected internally. He didn't necessarily want to talk to you.

But who else was there? Only Charlie. What could he possibly want from my father? It's not as if they had ever had a close relationship. Charlie had barely put up with him. He, of all people, should know that.

I supposed….he must have some emotion towards me, right? He must at least have some inclination to make sure I was coping. That I was okay.

No, I couldn't even let myself get that far. He must just be checking to make sure I wasn't dead. For Charlie.

Yes, that was it. He was calling to make sure I was alive, for Charlie. He probably hoped that Charlie would have answered, so he could be spared having to hear me.

The pain shuddered, threatening to engulf me. But I shoved it aside once more. I should make having to talk to me as painless as possible for him…even though it would ruin me.

My internal episode lasted only a few seconds, despite the magnitude of all the gut-wrenching notions I had considered. I quickly looked away from Jacob's still-angry face and spoke once more.

"Excuse me? Is anyone there?"

One…two…three…I counted to thirty, and still no change.

But then, I heard a noise—a long, airy sound, as if the person on the other line were steeling themselves for something. Anticipation coursed through my veins, turned my vision hazy. Was this it? Was I about to hear the voice—the soft, velvet voice that was almost as beautiful as the god that it belonged to—that haunted my every thought? Would I finally get some relief from this agonizing weight that was forever imprinted on my heart?

"Bella?"

My anticipation cracked down the middle, my heart shattered, my lungs burst, my one small shot alleviation imploded, leaving me virtually empty. The only small emotions I felt were disappointment, whistling downwards, sinking, bringing my heart along with it—and a fierce, agonizing anger towards myself.

I had allowed myself to hope.

How could I? How could I have even considered the possibility that he had called, had even cared about me or my safety in any way? The last thing he wanted was to create more ties to me. It was inconceivable, him being concerned about me in even the smallest bit. It was stupid. It was pointless. It was idiotic.

And yet, I had hoped.

I internally cursed myself. How could I have let such thoughts posses me? Hadn't he made himself clear? That day in the woods—

I cut the thought short. I wouldn't allow myself to remember. I was in enough pain without thinking of that…

But then, beyond the disappointment and anger I felt towards myself, there was also recognition.

No, this was not the voice I had been so desperately hoping for…but it was the next best thing.

"Carlisle?"

A/N- Did you guys like it? I really want reviews, but this is my first fanfic, so please be nice!