Rising Sun (Twilight Saga Fanfic)

Finding Out

          Bella couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The fancy scripture of her husband’s hand was jumbled and unusually messy, blurring together in her eyes. Her mind couldn’t comprehend, couldn’t analyze its true meaning. She didn’t know what to make of the words.

            I am leaving you…

            The piece of parchment fluttered from the grasp of her fingers and landed on the floor with a silent thump.  Instead of her gaze following its journey, she stared at her raised limp hand. Bella’s body felt frozen and numb, unable to move. She could almost see her nearly whole heart shatter once more and for the same damn reason as the first time.

            Edward was gone.

            This time was different though. This time, the last time as he had stated, he left her stranded on Isle Esme, off the coast of South America. She was alone, not even able to just drive back to her father’s house. Not that she wanted to, anyways; what would Charlie say? I told you so?! He could say that and Bella wouldn’t care. She knew he was right, she should have never believed he loved her.

            Her body took control. Her mind was separate and had no control over her limbs and their actions. As she grabbed the first thing she could reach for, a stained glass vase, a guttural scream, one of pain and sorrow, came from her throat, tearing through her teeth. She launched it in whatever direction felt natural and the vase crashed into the door that lead to the en suite bathroom, smashing to unfixable pieces. She grabbed again; this time, her fingers latched onto a bottle of perfume she had received as a wedding present from Alice. That followed the vase’s footsteps, straight into the door.

            For the next few days, all Bella could do was cry and scream, and then scream and cry. She barely ate; she barely moved off the bed, out of her cocoon of blankets. She was always curled up in a ball underneath, despite the tropical weather and nothing to keep cool with. As far as she was concerned, she hoped she died. Somehow, someway, sometime soon, she wanted to die. It was a powerful feeling but an empty, yearning one.

            She didn’t move until something changed.

            Bella felt something prod her stomach on the fourth day. She opened her puffy, dry eyes, wondering what was touching her. She rolled onto her side and looked down at the bed. Nothing was there except for the smooth baby blue sheets.

            I’m imagining things now, that’s just great, she muttered mentally and lay back down on the bed, her stomach flat against the sheet. She still felt the prodding; this time, it covered her lower abdomen and felt as hard as a rock.

            “What the heck?” She asked herself and moved onto her hands and knees. She moved one hand over the sheets that where beneath her. Nothing was there; it was as soft as the first time she had laid there.

            Climbing out of bed, Bella took her time. She knew she hadn’t eaten in days and that she would be weak. Holding onto something with each step, she carried herself to the bathroom, thinking maybe she had to go. Right as she was about to head in though, something caught her eye. She turned and faced the mirror, seeing her dirty, ratty self.

            And a rather small but visible bump between her hips.

            “That’s impossible,” she murmured as her eyes glued to the sight. She twisted and turned to see it at different angles but nothing changed. That bump was definitely there.

            Snapping out of her haze, Bella fumbled for her bag of personal products. She had learned from a young age to keep track of her periods and kept a miniature calendar to mark her days down. She looked at her last date and counted until the next time she was to get her period. When she got her answer, she shook her head. That can’t be right, she thought and recounted. Bella still got the same answer though. She was fourteen days late.