Coming Home
"What have I done?" I murmured for the second time. Emmett didn't answer; he turned his face away from me and stared out the window.
Oh, God.
It would be impossible to describe the self-hatred that I felt at that moment. I knew what I had done: I had killed my brother. And I was probably responsible for Alice's death, too.
And Bella's.
How amazing that my thoughts turned to Bella now. After all of this time spent hating her with a passion, I was mourning her.
Bella, the human.
I was still shocked that she had left Forks to save Edward—but Emmett's previous words had begun to change my perspective.
"What if it were me, Rose?"If it were Emmett, there would be nothing and no one that could stop me from getting to him. It would require no thought, no consideration.
But I still couldn't think that Bella's feelings for Edward might be as strong as my feelings for Emmett. I couldn't think of anyone's feelings for another being as strong.
No matter how much she loved my brother, Bella had been brave. Very, very brave. Before I had thought that her selflessness had all been an act, a ploy to make my family like her. But now I saw that it was real, all of it—and I wondered if she ever considered herself at all.
Bella was good, I realized. She might be a clumsy, teenage human, but now I knew that she was worth much more than I was worth. She was kinder than I was, and not as selfish as me, and she had much more courage than I would have if I were in her position. She wasn't a nuisance, she wasn't a menace. She was good.
And I had just killed her.
With a strangled, tearless sob, my thoughts turned to Alice. I had always envied her. Alice was always so sure of herself, so friendly and full of joy. She had always outshone me, just as all of the others in the family outshone me. What was I, after all? What special talents did I have to contribute to my family?
I was beautiful.
This had always consoled me before when I contemplated my own uselessness, but now, it meant nothing to me.
Being so jealous of Alice, I had never really shown her how much I loved her. I was too caught up with myself, too involved with my own happiness, to do anything that would add to Alice's. Kindness could always wait another hour, another day.
And then, those last, stinging words she had given me before she hung up in our last conversation:
"It's a bit late for that, Rose. Save your remorse for someone who believes it."
I knew what she thought of me now—if she was still alive—and it made me hate myself even more, told me what a mess I was.
A monster.
"How could you be so selfish?" Esme had shouted. "Don't you care about anyone but yourself?"
I did care, I realized. I cared a lot…but now it was too late.
"It's too late," I moaned to myself. Emmett's cold gaze turned to my face. His eyes held no feeling at all; they were empty, dead.
I did that, I thought. I did that to him.
"I'm so sorry, Emmett," I whispered. "Truly, I am." And then I got up to leave.
I didn't run out into the woods this time; I went around to the back porch and lay down on a comfortable bench, my fingers tracing patterns in the powdery snow.
Would my family ever forgive me? I wondered. Would ever forgive myself?
Finally, I forced my thoughts to Edward, and our last conversation.
"You have a family," I'd said. "Grow up and think about something besides yourself." I could almost hear his voice now when I remembered his retort: "Interesting advice, Rosalie. Let me tell you a little story about a pot and a kettle…"
And then I had told him. I had thought that he deserved to know the truth, that he would respect me more for telling him. In truth, I had smashed his heart into pieces.
Monster.
I was drowning in grief, I was being suffocated by it. I imagined myself in a little box, weeping real tears as it got smaller and smaller…
"Rosalie."
I looked up from my position on the bench, and saw the last person that I wanted to see right now.
Jasper.
I could see his face twisting as he felt my pain, and I moved away from him, to another bench. "Yes, Jasper?" I asked with dread, my voice shaking. Suddenly I felt a breeze of calm and relief wash over me. Angrily, I tried to fight it, until I heard the words:
"Rose, they're alright. He's coming home."
It took me a moment to understand him.
"Bella…and Alice?"
"They're fine," he said. "They had to meet with Aro, but they made it out."
I still couldn't comprehend it.
"Edward is alive?"
"Yes," Jasper said, and I could hear him trying to muffle his aggravation. "Not a scratch."
"Oh, God," I thought aloud. "But Alice! She didn't pick up the phone."
"She was with Edward and Bella—erm—talking to Aro." Jasper grimaced.
I could feel his eyes on me, waiting for me to feel relieved. "Thank you, Jasper," I said apologetically. And then I got up and did something I never had before:
I hugged him.
"Come on," he said as I pulled away, the smallest hint of a smile on his worn face. "Carlisle's talking to Alice right now."
Even as I followed my brother into the house, overflowing with relief, I felt the guilt. Would Edward forgive me for doing this to him? For endangering Alice and Bella? Emmett's face was the first I saw once we were inside, and I crumbled once more at the profound happiness on his face.
"Oh, Emmett," I whispered, and fell into the safety of his arms.