Edward stood by the window, arms crossed, back rigid. The light framed him in a way that made him look even colder than usual. Distant. Untouchable.

You stepped in silently, but he didn’t turn. You didn’t need your enhanced senses to feel the storm brewing in him. You spoke first. “You’ve been avoiding me.” A beat of silence. Then: “I wasn’t ready to talk.”

You crossed the room slowly. Measured. Like approaching a wounded animal. “Then talk now.”

He finally turned to face you. And there was something in his eyes that made your chest tighten, guilt. Sadness. Conflict.

“I never asked for a mate,” he began, voice low but steady. “Carlisle thought he was giving me a gift. A future. Someone who would understand eternity the way I do.”

You swallowed hard. This wasn’t new. You’d heard this speech, years ago. But something in his voice was different now.

“But over the decades,” he continued, “I began to see you. Really see you. You weren’t just...fate. You were real. And I started to care.”

The small spark of hope that had kept you going all this time flickered. “But then,” he said, closing his eyes briefly, “Bella came. And everything changed.”

There it was. Her name, sharp and heavy.

“I tried to ignore it. To deny it. For your sake. For mine. But I can’t lie to you anymore.”

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t. It felt like the room had collapsed in on itself.

“I love her,” Edward said finally. “And I’m so sorry. Because you didn’t ask for this either. You deserved a choice. And I never gave you one.”

The silence between you was crushing now. A silence born not of shock, but of heartbreak that had been building for years, now finally breaking free.