A Slightly Different Version To The Final Scene in Twilight…

(What Would Have Happened If Susannah Spoke First)

I followed the path down to the cemetery, which was familiar to me now. I was not alone, however. The tall figure of Jesse was standing, almost waiting, at the end of the path. He was standing in front of his grave. I joined him and took his hand in mine. He looked up briefly and smiled at me. I smiled back, enchanted as always by his inky gaze. Embarrassed, I looked away and heard him chuckle so quietly it might have been my imagination.

I looked around me. It was empty, as usual. Surprising, considering the beauty of the place; especially for a graveyard. There were lush gardens and huge, towering oaks everywhere. It looked like a park, except for the numerous headstones sticking out of the ground. Viewing the beautiful grounds was not my intention for visiting, no matter how entrancing they were, and I had procrastinated enough already, it was time:

"I'm sorry, Jesse." He looked at me in slight confusion.

"What are you talking about, Susannah?" I felt pride at having taught Jesse some twenty-first century language.

"You know what I'm talking about," I said. He remained bewildered, which I had half-expected. I was just really avoiding voicing my thoughts.

"For everything, I guess. I'm just so sorry for…. Well, for wrecking your seemingly-perfect half-existence. I mean, you seemed to be content before I arrived and started messing it up. I still can't believe how stupid I was, going after Heather that time –" He, rather uncharacteristically, interrupted me. "Susannah, don't be ridiculous. That wasn't strictly your fault."

"Yes, but still. You had to come and rescue me," I said, not without some disgust at my helplessness, "Which, by the way, is WAY too damsel-in-distress for me."

"Susannah, you do not need to apologise to me for anything." I sighed, for the thing I knew I must do, but was trying my hardest to avoid I could avoid no longer. I purposefully avoided his eyes.

"There's just one more thing," I started, and took a deep breath. "I know you don't feel the same way about me as I do about you, so I'm so sorry for forcing my company on you. It must have been a bit of a drag." I tried to smile, but found I couldn't. I couldn't look, but it felt like Jesse was staring at me. Shouldn't he say something? I felt a blush spread across my cheeks, and a strange sensation in my throat. He doesn't love me. He doesn't even like me. And I had deluded myself that he might have, until this moment when he was supposed to deny my statement. But he didn't. And he doesn't. Love me, that is. I turned and walked away before the tears came.

However, I barely got one step before his hand caught my arm, preventing me from moving. "Susannah," he said in that deep voice of his. "Look at me." But I found I couldn't. "Querida, please." I slowly lifted my eyes to meet his. I couldn't read his expression, as usual. It just depressed me, staring like that into the eyes of my only true love, according to Madam Zara. "Querida, tell me how you feel." He didn't know, but I couldn't tell him. I just couldn't. My nose tingled and my vision blurred, and before I could turn away it started. The tears were warm as they ran down my face. I licked my lips and tasted salt. I could not move, due to the fact that Jesse still had a pretty firm grip on my forearm. "Jesse," I whispered. "Please, just let me go. I get that you don't like me. I get it." He didn't let me go, though. He just pulled me into his arms and hugged me instead. This was so unfair, I thought. He was so warm and comforting as he held me that I almost believed he felt the same way. Almost. I wasn't going to make that mistake again. I still relished being in his arms for the last time. As I thought that, he pulled away and got out his white handkerchief. He wiped away my tears (which took a while as there were a lot of them) just like old times.

"Now," he said, "What is it you meant before, about me not feeling the same way? How exactly do you feel, Susannah?" I know what I had to say, but I opened my mouth and nothing came. I tried again. "You really don't know?" I said; my voice a bit nasally due to the crying. He shook his head. I looked away. "Querida?" he queried.

"I love you, okay? I am in love with you." The romance was lessened due to the fact that I half-shouted it. Jesse looked taken aback only for a second, before drawing me in close and kissing me on the mouth. Inside I was celebrating. He must love me too! He must! But I should still ask him, to make sure. I couldn't stand being a charity case. So I pulled away. "Jesse, do you…do you, love me, too?" He grinned, positively glowing. "Querida, how could I not? I love you with all my heart; you are everything to me." Pleased with this response, I grinned back. "I can't imagine existing without you." He continued. I felt such a rush of affection that I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my lips tenderly to his. And in that moment, I felt at peace with the world; for I was finally in the place I had longed to be: in Jesse's arms.