Sweet Retribution

From the ashes, the phoenix rose.

Bella Swan wasn't one to stay down for long. Even when the odds were against her, she would stand up tall, and see it through. This time wasn't any different. She was a woman on a mission and she would strike when they least expect it.

He is always ready to be punished and abused for being bad, for being a horrible person, for being weak. Edward looked for it, was even attracted to it. He did it for the company, so he wouldn't be alone. Bella made him feel like nothing, but at least he wasn't alone.

Now, Bella didn't feel anything at all towards him, and he was alone.

Chelsea felt something towards him, maybe even loved him, but he was still alone. Weak. Broken.

Edward laid on his bed for what seemed like days. Jasper stopped dropping by, management stopped knocking, and he forgot what day it was. All he could do was lay there and recount his sins and think of what his life had become.

Bella was gone, long gone. No phone calls, no e-mails, no messages, nothing. He was officially out of her life. She meant what she said. She was with Peter, probably, whether he liked it or not.

Chelsea never called. Another story over before he had reached the ending. He didn't even get to pick his ending, Chelsea had chosen it for him. He had picked his adventure, and Chelsea skipped to the end for him. He had no say, and he felt powerless. Weak.

He had gone all in, bet his life, and the house won. The house always won. He was fated to be alone and miserable for the rest of his natural life, he was convinced. It was like some warped jail sentence, some punishment.

Edward closed his eyes, refusing to think about the past anymore.

He inhaled deeply, smelling strawberries and vanilla, and he opened his eyes slowly, trying to see through the brightness of the room.

Chelsea stared down at Edward, shaking her head. "Are you done being stupid?" she asked icily.

He didn't respond, staring past her at the ceiling.

Her eyes softened, and she leaned down, gently cupping his face in one hand. "Are you done? You need to be done," she murmured, her gaze one of concern. "Time to get up."

"I can't," he finally said, his voice barely a whisper.

"Yes, you can."

"Get the fuck off my island," he mumbled, tearing up as she laughed through the sob that sliced through the room.

Chelsea's smile was beautiful, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her. He wanted to feel her soft lips and run his hands through her hair. He really missed her. He had forgotten how much he missed her.

Edward licked his lips slowly, swallowing hard. "I'm sorry, Chelsea."

She ran her fingers down his jaw, a sigh falling from her lips. "Bygones, Masen," she leaned down, leaving a faint kiss on his forehead. "Now get up and get yourself together so we can hang."

"You still want to be my friend?" he asked, the crack of surprise in his voice making him cringe.

Chelsea shrugged. "It's a start, right?"

He nodded quickly. "Yeah. It is."

"Good, so hurry up."

She started to pull away, but he reached up, cupping the back of her neck and bringing her face down. Their lips met, and she smelled so good, he couldn't stand it. Her lips parted and he kissed her harder, wanting her approval and her love, needing it.

Chelsea finally pulled back, resting her forehead against his. "I'm still here, Edward," she whispered against his lips. "Catch up with me."

Edward opened his eyes, blinking rapidly at the space Chelsea had just occupied. He sat up, looking around the room for any sign of her. Anything- the scent of her perfume, the squeak of her Chucks, anything. There was no one else in the room. He was alone.

He felt like crying, and he climbed off the bed before the tears could fall, walking to the living room. He sat on the couch, his eyes falling on his cell phone on the coffee table. Even if there were messages, he didn't care what they were. He had a phone call to make.

Bella was gone, long gone. He needed to move on.

He swallowed hard, picking up his phone. Slowly, he scrolled down his phonebook, by names of people he couldn't pin faces to, through ghosts from his past. He needed to carry on, he needed to move on, he needed to move forward.

Chelsea's name was highlighted, and he stared at it for a moment, at the little smiley face she had added after the "a" when she had typed herself in. He could see her smile then, and he wanted her to look at him the way she used to before. He needed it.

Bella would be back, eventually, like clockwork. He would welcome her, like clockwork. Yet, for now, he needed Chelsea. He wanted her.

Edward dialed Chelsea's number, slowly placing the phone at his ear. She just needed to pick up.

The ring-back echoed in his ears, washing away to a dull white noise as he waited for Chelsea's beautiful voice to fill his ears.

The white noise continued, and he waited.

"History repeats itself, first as tragedy, second as farce." ~ Karl Marx

The End.