Looking into your eyes that afternoon was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Knowing you had come to be with me and seeing the agony on your face when you understood - i didn't know i could feel that much guilt.
"I'm so sorry Jacob." A tear rolled from my eye as i scrambled to cover myself up. I noticed you weren't shaking, there was no anger in your face. I reached out to touch you but you jerked back as if i were ice cold.
"who was he Nessie?" You managed the words, barely a whisper, still no anger.
"who loves you as much as i have?" Your eyes bored into mine, searching for some trace of the girl you knew. Now i know that from the second the truth dawned on you there was never any going back.
I met Liam just 3 weeks before that day. Alice had said i would but i brushed it off. I should have listened, but i was blind. I never in a million years thought i could ever love anyone as much as you. I was wrong. Things went so fast, first i was dodging your phone calls, telling myself that i was just dividing my time. No harm in seeing friends. Then when he kissed me for the first time, it dawned on me that i was in too deep, i was drowning so happily. It was only a matter of time before your heart got broken and it still didn't stop me. I wonder if anything could have?
Now i was finally being forced to face up to the consequences of my cruelty. I knew i deserved it, the pain that the hurt on your face was causing me.
"I don't know what to say... i...we..." I tried to form words but sure enough the tears began to fall. Your face changed then. No more the broken heart behind your eyes, nothing in your eyes anymore. I knew right then that i had killed you. I climbed from the bed, i must have smelled strongly of him because your eyes began to water as you stood there with them fixed to me. Looking around i began to gather my clothes and get dressed. I remember the words you used because they stabbed into me.
"The imprint,does it mean nothing? Don't you want me?" your tears flowed onto your face. the face that i had kissed so many times, turned to stone by my betrayal.
If I had left then he might not be dead. If i had gotten dressed and run from the house you miht not have had the chance to pick up his scent enough to track him. And i stand now infront of his grave with the memory of his body, shredded, carved into my mind.