He leans into the dilapidated couch as he strokes her hair, his eyes firmly glued to a point on the wall. It's like silk strands under his fingertips, a less-than-pleasant contrast with the hot tears that burn like fire where they fall on his shirt.
She's burrowed into his chest, letting her pain out through unbridled sobs, and he's the one who's here to listen. Of course he'd jumped at the chance to be there for the girl he'd been so desperate to hold for so long, but knowing he can't do anything about her pain because it's not him she's crying over - well.
The Cullens are gone, he thinks for the third time tonight, packed up and left three months ago - good riddance, but he wishes Edward's hold on Bella had gone with them. Maybe, right now, she would be over with that friend of hers, Jacob Black, and he'd be the one comforting her - but they'd had a giant fight right after the Cullens skipped town, and the next week, he'd been hanging around Forks with a new girlfriend.
So instead, she's come to the Newtons', which had made him happy... at first. But Bella hasn't stopped crying for the last forty-five minutes, which gave him plenty of time to mull things over and realize he's not even second-best.
Is this really what he wanted?
"Shh... everything will be okay. Don't cry."