Rosalie sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed she shared with Emmitt. She looked over her shoulder at the snoring lump underneath the blankets. What am I doing? She fought with her mind, struggling between laying back down beside the man she had fallen in love with and… well… she did not even want to think his name. She leaned forward and let her head fall into her hands.

Just the thought of it was a disgrace. She couldn't feel that way about him. There was so much wrong with it. So many thoughts and feelings assaulted her at just the thought of his name. She knew her (figurative) heart would swell and then immediately be stomped on by feelings of guilt and anger and even… was that… jealousy?

What am I jealous of? She straightened up and gazed over her shoulder again. She had Emmitt. She watched him roll over and shook her head. He knew that he did not need to sleep. She supposed he did it because it made him feel alive again. Rosalie knew that sleep couldn't help her feel alive…

That's it. She sighed and carefully got up from the bed. As she made her way down the hall and into the kitchen, her mind continued its chattering. I'm jealous of her and of him and their life… She scowled as she reached into the refrigerator and snatched up a bag of blood. She nuked it so it was warmer, and downed it. She's so ungrateful, giving up her life like that… and she gets a baby, anyway.

Rosalie sighed, tossing the plastic into the trash can. She was glad that she had been able to talk Emmitt into getting some blood bags so she wouldn't have to go out and kill any animals in the middle of the night. She knew she'd still have to eventually because bagged blood wasn't the same as fresh blood, but for now it would just have to hold her. I need to go back to La Push.

The woman still loved Emmitt, but she felt the fire for him dwindling. She didn't know what to do about it. The bond between them was strong, but she just didn't feel the same any longer. "It's his fault," she hissed into the darkness, towards the door. Even though she was blaming him for the awful situation she was in, she still felt drawn to him. "I need to go back to Forks," she said aloud.

"Why do you need to go back to Forks?" Emmitt asked, suddenly standing beside her. She felt a strong pang of guilt flood her chest. She sighed.

"I just miss it," she whispered the lie, as though she were unable to say it any louder.

"If you really want to, we can go back to Washington. We just can't live in Forks. We can visit Forks, though."

Rosalie nodded. She thought of his face and grimaced in an effort to force back a smile. Then, the grimace turned to a frown as she thought of Renesmee. She loved that little girl like she was her own, but it sparked something in her. She wondered, Can an Imprint be broken?

"Do you want to lay down and think about it for the night?" Emmitt asked, sliding his hand to the small of her back.

"Yeah," she resigned. Her mind was already made up, even before Emmitt had said they could go. She would be returning to Forks with or without Emmitt; whether or not he was okay with it. She felt the urge to come clean, but knew that if she did that, she'd be up against her entire family. She did not want to be against them. Rosalie allowed Emmitt to lead her back to their bedroom.

Emmitt and Rosalie curled up together, and he pulled her close to him. Wrapping an arm around her, he buried his face in her hair and whispered, "If you still want to go in the morning, we will."

I will still want to go in the morning, Rosalie didn't say. Instead, she simply nodded and snuggled into Emmitt like she had for the decades that they had been together. She relaxed in the familiarity of his arms and closed her eyes, allowing her mind to drift back to the day they had left, sometime after Renesmee was born.

"So, you guys are really leaving again?" Jacob asked, brushing Rosalie's cheek with his knuckles. She turned her head away.

"Yes. I don't see why you care so much," she looked back at him, seeing the hurt in his eyes from her words. Her next words came out as more of a hiss than anything else. "You've Imprinted. With my niece, no less."

"I didn't do it on purpose, Rosie!" Jacob cried out defensively. "I still love you…"

Rosalie curled a lip at him. He still loves me? "Yeah, the way you love Bella?" came another hiss.

"Rosie," Jacob frowned, the pain in his eyes becoming more evident. "I was young and stupid and wanted someone I couldn't have."

"What's the difference here?" she spat.

"Well, I'm young… but I'm not stupid," he offered.

"And you still want someone you can't have," she said it coldly.

"That's not true," he huffed. "I can have you."

"Not within the Imprint, Jacob. And I highly doubt you can have Renesmee, either." She sighed and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "You need to grow up. Decide for yourself what you want, or I'm leaving and I won't be coming back. I'll already have to answer questions as to why I smell like dog," she wrinkled her nose even though she really couldn't smell Jacob specifically anymore – well, she couldn't smell the stench. She smelled his aroma. "So if you want to be with Renesmee you better tell me right now so I don't have to wa—"

Jacob cut the vampire off with a hard kiss. His muscular arms drew her tightly to his body as she tingled all over. She sank into the kiss and kissed him back until finally they pulled apart, panting. "Well?"

"Well," Rosalie huffed softly. "There is still the issue of the Imprint. She is your soul mate, not me."

"Maybe the Imprint is wrong," he said, but as it left his mouth, he knew that he was the wrong one. "I do love you."

"Stop throwing that word around like change," Rosalie hissed, still royally pissed off and anxious about the whole situation. She knew she shouldn't take it out on Jacob, because it really wasn't his fault, but it wasn't like she could talk to Emmitt about it.

"What? You don't love me back?"

"I didn't say that," Rosalie scowled. "But you say it too much, to too many people." She turned her back on him for a moment, gazing at a few of the trees surrounding them.

"Ro—"

"No, Jacob," she turned on her heel and caught his sad gaze. "Let me make one thing perfectly clear: I am not Bella. If you're going to love me, I can love you back. But it has to be just us. No one else. I am no one's second choice. You shouldn't be either."