! READ THIS !

This story does NOT have a proper ending. I ended the story after CH3 and posted a summary of what would have happened. (CH5)
If this bothers you, please do not read it! If you don't mind, I hope you enjoy xx

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

"... there are two tumors in your stomach lining,Ms. Swan, I'm sorry it's malignant."

My ears stopped working once the word "tumor" left Dr. Stevens lips. I wasn't sure how to react in this situation. Was there a book out there? "How to React When Your Doctor Tells You, You Have Cancer!" I'm a supposed to be angry? Throw a fit? Maybe accuse Dr. Steven's of not having a proper degree or license? Demand a second opinion? Do I start crying? Do I suddenly start believing in God and ask him to hear my prayers?

My ears continued to ring as Dr. Stevens word filtered to my mind, muffled by my thoughts.

"... it's called gastric cancer. We're lucky to have caught it in the early stages. Studies have shown that in stomach cancer, there's a higher chance of survival if you go with chemotherapy before surgery. We should start with chemotherapy right away. I'm sorry, Ms. Swan, is there someone you'd like to call? I know this is a lot to take in by yourself."

Someone I'd like to call? Instantly my mind flooded to green eyes and bronze hair, Edward. I needed Edward.

Edward. Edward. Edward.

"I… I need to call my fiancé." Even my words didn't sound like my own. Was he sure there was a tumor in my stomach because right now it seemed like something was wrong with my ears.

Dr. Stevens gave me a short nod and stepped out of the office, giving me privacy.

I fumbled with the iPhone, trying to unlock the screen. I kept swiping my thumb against the cold surface, getting frustrated because the thing would not unlock. It took me a full minute to realize it was because the screen was wet. I paused for a second wondering why the screen would be wet in the first place until I blinked and a big fat drop of saltwater landed right on the picture of Edward's face.

Edward. Edward. Edward.

I repeated his name like a mantra. I needed Edward. Wiping my screen dry with the sleeve of my sweater, I finally managed to dial his number.

"Hello. You have reached Edward Masen, I can't pick up the phone right now so leave a message after the beep. Thank you."

"Hello. You have reached Edward Masen, I can't pick up the phone right now so leave a message after the beep. Thank you."

"Hello-"

I hung up before the automated lady's voice could continue. I felt the familiar tickle in my throat and the tears well up in my eyes.

Edward, please.

After several minutes of praying to the gods (any god that would listen really), Dr. Stevens walked back into the room.

He began to list my options. He mentioned several different treatments and something about care facilities.

"I'd like to think about it Dr. Stevens. Thank you." My voice wavered and cracked as I spoke. The sound coming out still as unfamiliar to me as it was a few minutes ago.

Dr. Stevens looked at me strangely. (Probably because I just thanked the man for giving me the worst news of my life.) I smiled at him bitterly.

"Very well, Ms. Swan. Please call me as soon as you can and we can start making plans for your treatment as soon as possible."

The trip home was lost to me. I couldn't remember how I had gotten out of Dr. Steven's office, getting into the car, turning the key in the ignition, driving the 25 minutes from the hospital to our house, unlocking the front door and somehow ending up in the kitchen.

I had no idea how long I stood there, my hands pressed against the cool granite counter. I glanced at the clock.

6:30 PM

My legs moved on it's own towards the refrigerator. My hands and arms felt detached from my body as they picked up ingredients for dinner.

Once I finished cooking a simple dinner my phone vibrated with a text.

Edward: It's been a hectic day. I'll see you when I get home.

My heart began to beat again and I could feel the numbness of my body going away. The buzzing in my ear seemed to finally fade. I needed Edward.

Bella: We need to talk.

After sending the text. Still not in full control of my body, it moved on it's own. My arms folded the laundry. They vacuumed the living room. They changed the sheets on the bed. My mind still hazy and confused.

I couldn't have cancer. I just couldn't. There's no way. No one in my family had been diagnosed, wasn't it supposed to be a genetic thing? Or something? Everyone in my family was healthy as a whistle, even Charlie! And he was the absolute worst, he ate at the diner everyday (Steak and Eggs) and drank several beers daily. I was a vegetarian. I exercised daily. I made sure I had a glass of milk every once in awhile. I was healthy. Was.

After all the chores were done, I sat in the living room twisting the engagement ring on my left hand.

Edward and I got engaged two years ago. We were high school sweethearts. I met him my junior year when I moved to Forks to live with Charlie. Initially, I hated the guy. He completely ignored me one day then sweet talked me the next. He was an annoyance who wasn't worth my time.

It wasn't until Mike Newton, classic school jock, kissed me in front of Edward that I realized that I liked Edward and he liked me.

We were in our AP biology class on St. Patrick's day. The teacher had left the room because he forgot to xerox a few take home assignments when Newton got up from his seat across the room and taking long strides towards me.

"Hey Bella! Did you know today is St. Paddy's day? Are you wearing green?" Mike's blue eyes twinkled as spouted off his questions.

I heard Edward snicker next to me mumbling something under his breath. I could only hear the words "stupid" and "fool."

"Of course I'm wearing green, Mike. You just can't see it."

Mike blushed a dark shade of pink and began shift his feet side to side.

"Well, you know what they also say on St. Paddy's day? Didja know I'm part Irish?"

I shook my head, confused to where this conversation was going. Edward, on the other hand, balled his hands into a fist and I could almost feel him roll his eyes.

"Kiss me Bella, I'm Irish!" I could barely blink before I registered that my lips were being molested by Mike Newton's lips. And just as fast as he was on me, he was quickly thrown off with a hand clutching his left eye.

"What the hell, Masen?!"

Before I knew it, a very angry Edward was threatening a very scared Mike and I was a very turned on Bella. The way Edward's green eyes danced with fire, his back muscles twitching with every threat he told to Mike. I liked jealous Edward and jealous Edward, obviously, liked me.

After Mike surrendered, Edward turned to me; with the fire still in his eyes and gazed into mine.

The pull between us was inevitable and just as I felt his breath fan across my lips, he smirked.

"I'm not going to kiss you right after you just kissed Newton."

The anger I felt in that moment was unbelievable. I did NOT kiss Mike Newton. What Mike did to me was sexual assault! Plus, who said I was even going to kiss Edward? My anger flared and just as I opened my mouth to retaliate he interrupted me.

"I'm going to kiss you after our first date tomorrow."

The rest was history. After the first date, which was movies and dinner in Port Angeles (which did end in a kiss, okay maybe several kisses) things between us became serious. Edward told me he loved me two weeks later and we spent every free hour together. We even ended up applying to the same universities. We ended up going to Dartmouth and even lived off campus in a small apartment together all four years.

It was easy loving Edward. We understood each other. We grew together. We fell in love with each other every single day. We didn't have big fights besides small arguments on who has better taste in music. Edward was sweet, romantic, intelligent, funny, kind. Edward was everything.

During college the short stories I wrote for my creative writing classes became popular after I submitted them to several competitions. After a few weeks, several publications began to contact me wanting to print some of my stuff. Eventually, by my junior year in college, I had already published two books of collective short stories. By the time I graduated, I was an accomplished writer.

Edward, on the other hand, was a businessman. He was all about statistics, stocks, bonds, and other business related terms I could not understand. He was able to land a job at a big company in New York two years ago.

Right when he came home with the announcement, he got on one knee and proposed.

Silly boy said he bought the ring six years ago, right when we graduated high school. The ring he bought was small, a plain silver band with a small round cut diamond. He promised that he would buy a bigger and fancier ring. But the ring he gave me was perfect. He was perfect.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when I heard keys jingle in the front door.

2:43 AM

When he stepped in I couldn't help but to notice how beautiful he was. His hair was a wild mess on the top of his head, bronzed and beautiful. His face, although aged by stress, was still ruggedly handsome. His jaw sharp and pronounced. His eyes, so green that trees would be jealous.

As he stepped in, he didn't notice me sitting on the couch. Edward loosed his tie with one hand, the other hooking against the back of his shoes. He slipped off his coat and gently hung it up on the coat rack as he set his briefcase down by the door. Once he finally had everything off and done, he looked up and finally noticed me.

"Hey, you're still awake?" He mumbled as he ran a hand through his hair.

I could tell he was tired. His eyes had dark bags underneath, his hair was disheveled from the amount of times he ran his hands through them, and I could see the wrinkles adoring his much too young face.

"Yeah, I need to talk to you, Edward." I couldn't look at him. How was I supposed to tell the man, I promised to love and be with for the rest of his life that I was dying?

"Oh. I saw your text, can we wait until tomorrow? I'm really tired right now, I don't think I can stay awake through it."

I bit my lip, looking everywhere but at him. He was tired. I couldn't spring this on him, he wouldn't be able to sleep and he would go to work tired.

I'd tell him tomorrow.

"Okay, but it's kind of important. Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow."