A/N: SM owns all.

This is my first story. I will be posting this story on Twilighted as well. I've decided to post this story both here and there because I know some people have their preferences.

I'd love to hear any and all constructive crtiticism.

This is an E/B pairing, if you couldn't get it by this chapter.

Well you couldn't be that man I adored
You don't seem to know
Or seem to care
What your heart is for
I don't know him anymore

Torn - Natalie Imbruglia

Comfortable. That's where I was. Not only in my over sized, over stuffed, and overly obnoxious reading chair, but in my life as well. I was Isabella Cullen, married to the most handsome man in all of Chicago, volunteer at the local library as well as my mother's real-estate agency, and a woman whose past felt a million miles away but whose future didn't even seem like it existed. I blinked once, coming out of my day dream and into my nightmare. Comfortable, that is, until my absentee husband returned from work every night, making the air less comfortable and more palpable. I pulled my square framed reading glasses from my face, folded them gently, and placed them carefully on the arm of the chair so they wouldn't teeter over. I was more than accident prone and had just bought these new reading glasses, not wanting them to break as they were a birthday present from Charlie, my father.

I breathed a heavy sigh and rolled my head from left to right, reveling in the stretch. I had been more than stressed out this week helping Renee plan for another open house as well as getting ready for my volunteer days down at the local library in Gold Coast. With a loud sigh and a gentle comb through my unruly locks, I closed my book. There was something special about the way the particles danced in front of me like soft, silent snowflakes. I was also one of the few people on this Earth who love the strange muskiness of an oldie- that's what I call them, the oldies but goodies (books, that is). I ran my hand over of the cover, setting free the only smile that appeared today. Wuthering Heights, such a classic and a read I couldn't get enough of. I opened the book and read the neat writing on the back of the cover:

My Dearest Josephine,

My best friend, my love, my heart. My world would not be the same without you. You are my angel. I want you, I need you, I love you.

Forever and a day yours,

Alec.

1954.

I wondered briefly if Josephine and Alec were together still. Had they grown old together? Did they bear beautiful kids? Were they still happy? Or had their love bore the labor of love and turned out like her book? I studied the book precisely, noting the yellow, crinkled pages, the creased, torn, and years of dog eared pages, the wrinkles in the cover that suffered countless years of abuse from owner after owner.

It was then that I noticed it, the quiet. I basked in it, soaking it up like it was the sun's hot rays, taboo, during Indian summer. I closed my eyes, enjoying the peacefulness of this big house. Right now, at a quarter past six in the evening, it was dead quiet. No television playing, no classical music floating softly from his office into my library like a dense poison, and no Edward. Granted, even if Edward was here, I'd only hear his calm voice muffled behind the door of his office. I inhaled as much as I could and let it permeate in my lungs, feeling them expand slowly, painfully begging for release. I slowly allowed the air to exit; counting down the last few minutes of the silence until Edward would arrive home, thus filling it with awkward tension.

There was a time when it wasn't like this, when we weren't like this, but that time seemed so far away that I felt I must be imagining things. Maybe Edward and I had always been this awkward pair and I was just taking notice of it. Maybe we were forced together by Fate's evil twin, Chance. What were the chances that Edward and I would be forced together like we were? What were the chances that Renee, my dear and oh-so-loving mother, wouldn't NOT know that Edward Cullen, owner of Chicago's Cullen-Brandon Enterprise, would be attending the open house she was having the day that changed my life. You know, they say that every decision you make deters your life in one way or another. What if I had declined Edward's invitation to dinner on the night we met? Would I be married now at 27? Would I have a best friend? Would I have A friend? Would I have a life, a job, or even a husband who loves me?

The front door opened, pulling me from my "Would I…" daze and back into the present. It was silly for me to think such things. I shook my head and sat up straighter, hoping Edward wouldn't mind my appearance as I placed my glasses on my face and threw my hair up in a loose pony tail. Who was I kidding, he wouldn't even notice.

I could hear the sound of his Prada shoes against the beautiful hard wood of our-his- expensive floors. I wasn't afraid of my husband, he never hurt me physically nor had he ever threatened to, in fact he never once raised his voice to me in a fit of anger, no, he was always so despondent when he talked with me, if I were lucky enough to even get a conversation out of him. Sometimes I wanted him to yell, scream, do anything other than speak in that deep monotonous voice of his. As of late, he acts as if I were just some woman with whom he shared a house. I could hear his shoes sounding closer and closer, and with every step in my direction my heart beat grew louder. His steps slowed as he walked closer to the library, as if not wanting this part of his day to come yet either. He stopped, never turning his body to face me but the side of his face, his angular jaw, soft stubble, and wild hair were now visible.

"Hi, Edward," I said softly, surprised my voice didn't crack like it usually did when we spoke. Edward opened his mouth as if to respond but didn't. Although I received no response, I still silently begged for it. Please, Edward, anything. A 'hi', a 'how are you', even a 'eat shit' would suffice. Just acknowledge me, I'm begging you. And as if he heard my inner monologue, he snapped his mouth shut, nodded a curt hello, and strained his face forward. He opened the door to his office across the hall from the library and I watched his tall, lean figure disappear. I slumped in defeat the second I heard his door click shut softly. I live with the shadow of a man I met nearly four years ago, and he took away everything but the shadow I am now. This is my life now.

I sat there silently, picturing him loosen his tie, unbutton his shirt, and step out of his shoes. I could hear the creak of his desk chair moan as he sat in it, pulling himself closer. This was our nightly routine: he would come home from work and stop by the library door, sometimes acknowledging me, sometimes not, and head directly into his office where he'd spend the remainder of the night and sometime later after hours of work, just a few hours before the early morning twilight, he'd crawl into our king sized bed, three feet away with his back to me. So many times I'd wanted to reach out and stroke his back, remembering the soft skin beneath the white of his shirt, and just be there for him. I wanted to ask him how his day was, was he stressed, and what could I do to help. Sometimes I'd be daring in my fantasies and I'd reach out and massage his tender muscles without asking. He'd moan in response and I'd love every minute of it. I loved him, I did, but the past 18 months had been hell and he put me through the ringer. We had grown apart; well he had, whereas I didn't know what the hell was going on, what to think, or what to feel.

I twisted the Tiffany & Co engagement and wedding ring on my finger. I looked down, smiling at the memory. Snapshots of Edward smiling, happy, and on one knee flashed through my head as well as the moment I said yes, both of us crying, happy, and in love. Edward knew me like the back of his hand. He knew my ring finger size and the perfect cut that just screamed Bella Swan. I took off the diamond slowly, bringing it closer to admire. The beautiful cushion-cut diamond sparkled in the light, glowed in the dark, and taunted me every day. I placed it carefully back on my finger and squeezed them together. The band, completely encrusted with diamonds, dug into my middle and pinky finger. It was beautifully simple and just me. I couldn't bring myself to look at the engraved writing on the wedding band that he had done as a surprise for me: My Bella. My Bella, something I hadn't heard in months. Something I didn't know I'd miss until it was gone. My Bella was here one day and, poof, gone the next! Now it was just Isabella, a name he knew I despised. Edward still wore his wedding band, of course he did. If he would decide to take it off, everyone would assume the worst: that we had indeed separated. But why shouldn't he wear it? We were still legally bound to one another. Why didn't I just tell him that we needed to end this… this… charade? Because I didn't want it to be over. As much as I hated Edward for what he did to me, is doing to me, and will continue to do to me… I still love him, deep inside, way down deep inside. A part of me also considers the fact that he hasn't decided upon ending things with me yet. I still have something that I thought I gave up on long ago… hope.

I shrugged my shoulders impassively and got up from my comfortable chair to place the book back in its spot. This room was beautiful and built just for me. The walls were floor to ceiling bookshelves, a dream of mine I often shared with him when we dated. The room was dark, the floors were dark, and the atmosphere was perfect. There was a desk on the far right side, two plush, leather couches and an over sized chair just for me. But the most daunting piece of furniture that lay in this room was the black baby grand piano that had gone untouched for months now. I used to love hearing Edward play as I curled up and read my favorite books. I feared that I'd go the rest of my life without hearing him play again. Memories of us making love on the floor, in my chair, on the couches, against the wall, and, my favorite, on his piano coursed through me. I could still feel his touch. It was everywhere on me, his caress branded onto my skin.

As I walked past the bookshelves I couldn't help but glance at our wedding pictures. The black and white photos were beautiful and I picked up one of us dancing to our first dance. His smile was bright, loving, and real as his forehead was pressed softly to mine. His large hand cradled mine delicately and his other hand rested at the small of my back. No one knew how nervous I was about the dance but Edward and he had assured me that I'd do just fine. During the weeks leading up to our wedding we had practiced and I stepped on his toes more times than not. I felt bad as he bandaged his big toe for the last time and I all about nixed the first dance idea! I smiled at the memory as he grabbed my nervous hand in his, kissed me on the lips, whispered how beautiful I was, his Bella, and hoisted my feet atop his. My dress covered us so no one could have known, it was our little secret. Edward was wonderful. I'm sure he still is, just not to me.

I can't begin to tell you how many times I've gone over and over in mind what I had done to deserve this. I never cheated, we barely ever fought, and when we did it was over little things, and we never stopped smiling. Until the day he did.

I sighed and closed the door to my library. I stopped right outside his office and debated on whether or not I should knock or just go away. Before I could make up my own mind, he made it up for me. "Come in, Isabella."

I swallowed thickly, coating my throat that was now bone dry. I opened the door, twisting the knob slowly. "Can I help you?" he asked, as if I were some damn client. He never once took his eyes from his computer.

"I-I just wanted to say hello," I stuttered.

"Yes, you all ready did as I recall." He was still typing away.

"Right, well, okay…" I trailed off, wanting to get the hell out of there before I cried or made a bigger fool of myself.

Edward cleared his throat. "Isabella?"

"Yes?"

He opened his mouth to say something but his cell phone rang. He picked it up and sighed. I didn't know whether I should stay or go. "Hey Alice," he responded to the person on the phone. I figured I'd let them be, I'm sure Edward wanted to talk about work with his partner, so I turned slowly. "Goodnight, Isabella," he called softly, wanting to prove to Alice Brandon, his partner and sister in law, that I was in fact still his wife and still around. He rolled his eyes and pulled the phone from his ear, smiling, as a shrill, high pitched voice said my name. "Alice says hello."

He smiles, I smile. "Night," I whispered.

I was unsure of what the exact time was, but I felt the mattress dip in protest as Edward sunk down. "I'm going home for Thanksgiving," he said softly. How he knew I was awake, I did not know. I was surprised that he was still so in tuned with me and I was also surprised he even cared to share this little tidbit of information. Just as I moved my body to face him, he added, "I don't want you to come."

I put a sad smile on to stop the onset of tears as I nodded once and buried my face into my pillow. "Esme and Carlisle, however, do." I heard him sigh deeply and run his fingers through his hair, something I had done to him when he was stressed; I guess he picked up my habit. Good, I thought, that's something about me you'll always carry around. "We'll leave the 24th and return the 29th. Think you can get off from… work?" he asked, his last word dripping with disdain. He never approved of my volunteer work, I'll admit it, but lately he's shown a real hatred for it. If I wasn't volunteering with Renee or the library, then I'd be cooped up in here all day. Lord knows I'd go crazy after just a few days!

"I'll see what I can manage," I responded just as hatefully, hostility laced with each and every word.

"Like it'll be hard," he replied under his breath. The second he lifted the covers to place his body securely under, I couldn't take it anymore! I sprung from the bed so fast I nearly fell over. I ripped my pillow from its spot and resisted the urge to show Edward my little bird as I walked past him. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you was the continuous chant in my head. I was seething mad as I ripped the spare blanket from Edwards closest and made my bed on my chair in the library, not before thoroughly slamming the door, though. The resounding echo in the hall even scared me. I curled up in a ball, the smell of Edward permeating and assaulting my senses. Why I had chosen a blanket from his closest, I didn't know. Unable to bare it any longer, I kicked the blanket to the floor, willing to freeze my nips off before having to inhale his scent one more time.

How dare he mock what I do? What I love. He never said a word about it in the beginning. In fact, he had encouraged it! Ugh! I had worked myself up so much that I was unable to fall back asleep. The sun would be coming up any minute and the growl in my stomach reminded me that I hadn't eaten dinner last night. I tiptoed slowly past our bedroom, into the kitchen, and fixed myself a bowl of Lucky Charms. Hey, they're magically delicious! I slurped the last of my sugary milk from the bowl when I heard Edward on the phone. It wasn't unusual for him to be receiving calls this early. I tiptoed back down the hall, stomach sated, toes cold from the linoleum, and I hurried to make it back to the library before he emerged.

The sound of soft, feminine voice stopped me in my tracks. "Edward, did you ask her?"

"Yes, ma."

"And?"

"And what are you doing up so early?" Edward laughed softly; he must have put her on speaker phone.

"Don't change the subject. We're all so excited that you have decided to come up and spend the holidays with us! We're just hoping Bella can get time off." I swear I heard him chuckle, that smug bastard. If I was being honest with myself, I truly missed Esme. She was hands down the sweetest woman I've ever met.

"Yeah, ma, she'd love to come," he responded emotionless.

I heard Esme squeal with delight. "Oh this is just going to be wonderful, Edward! Tell her we love her, won't you? Carlisle is just going to be thrilled! You know Rose and Alice are coming with your brothers? They're bringing the kids, too. You haven't seen them in ages, have you, Edward? They're getting to be so big! You work too hard. You know your father would love it if you took some vacation. You could take Bella to-"

"All right mom, enough. I'm fine. I don't need a vacation and Bella… well actually…" I was hanging on to every word he said. And Bella what? AND BELLA WHAT! Inner Bella was screaming. Before I knew what was happening, the door had opened and Edward, clad in a pair of grey boxer briefs and white tee was standing before me, hair still wet from his shower, sticking to his forehead. Fuck was he beautiful. "She's right here," and with that, he handed the phone to me. Ugh, so not what I was expecting. I took the phone from him, ogling his body. Hey, he's still my husband and if yours looked as good as mine did, all wet and hot and... hard! Oh, my. I remember the way that felt….

"Bella, honey!" Esme gasped, bringing my eyes away from her son's straining morning wood and into the conversation. "How are you, dear? We miss you so much. You know I was just telling Edward how much we all miss you. Tell him to take a vacation, would you dear? He'll only listen to you." I snorted with laughter, yeah if only that were true. "You can get off work, can't you dear? Edward's been saying how busy you are and how he never sees you anymore. I can hear it in his voice, sweetie, he misses you." I wanted to laugh again, but she sounded so serious.

"I'm sorry," was my only desolate response.

"No, no, no! Sweetie, you do what you have to do. We're just so thrilled you'll be able to make it."

I loved Esme, I truly did, and tears welled up in my eyes at the sound of her enthusiasm. "At least one of the Cullen's is happy to see me," I blurted out without thinking.

"Oh we all are!" Esme responded, not even thinking about what I had actually meant.

"All right, ma, we'll talk to you later." Edward was annoyed; I could hear it in his voice.

"I love you both!" Esme said before Edward hung up.

"You should really tell your mother you love her before rudely hanging up," I remarked, still royally pissed at him, and turning my back on him before I could chance another look at his hard as a rock dick. He said nothing else and I closed the door to the library, softly this time, and fell into a deep sleep. Dreaming of hard cocks, emerald green eyes, and fingers that used to do magical, unhindered, powerful things to my lady bits.

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