PROMISE KEEPERS

When had it changed between us?

Or, to put it more correctly, when had I changed?

I was always, always surprised when he asked that because he knew. He knew. He knew, because he was the one who changed me: from Bella Swan to Bella the swan – all icy grace and hissing anger. And thirsty. Those first few ….months, was it, I was insatiably hungry. Every molecule in me hummed with it. I thought I would be repulsed by my first drink, but I had been resisting for too long. Long days. So at first, the feeding was a necessary relief, then it became acceptable, then enjoyable, then routine. Drinking the thing that used to cause me to swoon into the arms of the nearest non-bleeding person actually became a secondary pre-occupation. Vampire venom at least transformed that much.

The thirst I knew how to satisfy. I wasn't prepared for all the other vampire-enhanced senses; I had no answers for those needs. I tried filling them with Edward, and running, and music and sunrise and sunset and every second in between. Edward. I filled myself with Edward in every way imaginable – and then some.

And still – impossibly, I thought – there was something left unfilled.

Edward had told me, before I was bitten, that vampires mated for life. Vampire love, he said, was eternal, unending, boundless – before he ran out of words or clichés to describe it. I told him that I knew that sort of love already. I told him I loved him like that. He chuckled softly and gave my hand a pat, like you would do to a child, You'll see, Bella, love. You'll see.

He sported a mischievous grin as he continued, offhand, It was never fair, I suppose. Your little human heart stood no chance against a dazzling love like that.

I was angry at that patronising tone. I did bristle at his easy dismissal of the entirety of my human love. I did attempt to smack his arm in retaliation, but Edward grabbed my hand well before it could connect with flawless marble. Twining my fingers with his he looked at me from beneath lowered lashes, I would never forgive myself if I allowed you to break your hand on me.

Any protest I was going to utter was silenced by Edward's mouth moving tenderly over each of my fingers in turn. And secretly, I was awestruck at the thought of loving Edward more. I wanted to see, so badly. I grabbed hold of that promise and wrapped myself in it, breathing in the warmth and holding onto that in the face of the coming winter.

So why was there even one tiny millimeter of my frozen heart that was not glittering like a thousand diamonds? Why was it still a rich russet-brown color? Why was it so hot? Why did it smell like rain and forest and the sea?

He broke his promise to me.

I was supposed to forget.

Carlisle had promised sagely that venom would fix the broken parts. Edward believed him because, well, because he was Carlisle;and because he had seen it himself in Esme, Rosalie, Emmett. But Edward hadn't been paying enough attention and heard what he wanted, despite his acute vampire hearing. I only had human senses, so, of course, I missed it, too. Hindsight, they say, is 20/20 vision. So I was fixed. I was fixed into Eternity. The broken parts were put back together, yes, but they weren't changed. Not even vampire venom could accomplish that.

The heart I carried with me now hadn't changed: wolves still called to it, and it still answered.

Sometimes we don't know what it is we need, until we have it, she said, her voice tinted with gratitude as she looked over at Carlisle. Esme thought I was lucky to have conviction on my side prior to the event. And later, Esme told me to give myself time. Time, she promised, can color things the right shade, you'll see. All it did was to color every fading memory I had of my human life a ruddy brown, like blood mixed with saltwater. Only much later did she admit to me that time does not erase, not for a vampire. In her eyes, I thought I saw the reflection of dying waves.

Emmett ribbed Edward and said it was so hot when the women went after the men. Edward winked at me and grinned broadly. When he found out I was a virgin, to my utter embarrassment, Emmett whooped like he was at a rodeo and promised it was going to be incredible. Edward tackled him to the ground for embarrassing me, apologizing to me that he had not done so the moment he heard the thoughts, but he didn't think Emmett would actually say them. But instead of an apology, as Edward insisted, Emmett only continued, gasping out between all the jostling:

You'll see, Bella, getting it on vampire-style, he grinned like the Cheshire cat, is like nothing else exists on earth.Just you and her…

Moments later, Edward exhaled loudly and gave up, shaking his head. Emmett disappeared into another room, then he and Rosalie disappeared into the woods. He was almost right. Between Edward and I there was no-one else, except for a tiny, wooden wolf biting into my marble-smooth wrist.

At first, Edward didn't mind that I continued to wear the bracelet. He thought it would be cruel to obliterate every token I had of my human life. I loved him for that kindness. But, as I continued to wear it, and it never wore down, yet we started to wear at the edges, I could see the darkening in his thoughts. Wolf-shaped shadows bounced behind his eyes and he finally asked me to take it off.

But, the diamond from you is still on there, I protested.

Which he smoothly deflected: We can get that set into another piece of jewellery. It would probably fare better set as a pendant, anyway, instead of getting bumped around on your wrist.

But I like it there, and diamonds are supposed to be one of the hardest substances on earth – surely it's not going to get hurt where it is.

Diamonds may be hard, Bella, but they are not indestructible, he snapped, I thought you'd tire of that trinket after all this time. Then, in softest velvet, Please, Bella, can't you put it away now?

I had chosen Edward. It wasn't right to punish him for it. I sighed and smiling limply, I took it off. My motions were flawless, but inside, my hand was trembling. I stashed the bracelet (minus the dazzling diamond heart) in a tiny box that already contained some sand and a fragment of driftwood from La Push. The smell of salt and sea, underwritten with bitter notes, was like the sound of waves in an empty seashell: it was like an imprint of something long-gone. Potent.

When a curious Edward caught me staring into my keepsake one day, I instantly defended Well, I didn't want to remember Forks for the rain.

Yes, but how often did you go to the beach? You did, however, get wet in the rain a lot, he replied, bemused.

It was obvious at that moment just how blank my mind was to him, flooded as it was with memories of many visits to the beach.

I became grateful that I had my shield. Edward became adept at reading the surface, though he never could see quite past that to the blue depths. And now, when I dove into it, it wasn't Edward's apparition I was conjuring to life. In time, I think Edward's wistfulness that my mind could always be laid bare to him wore away, too. I was ashamed for that. I broke my promise to him. I think he knew that.

Alice. Our little Alice, who tended to our futures like they were her rose garden: pruning and shaping and ever-vigilant for pests that would endanger its health. She saw nothing but roses for Edward and me. That's what she promised me. But she saw that shower of blood-red petals before my transformation. She didn't spend much time looking for us after the fact. Alice knew the limitations of future-gazing as much as I did. But, we were sisters, Alice and I, in a way that she and Rosalie never were. I guessed they never would have been if it weren't for a common taste for blood and never-ending life. For Alice, it's too long a life to be lonely. For someone who saw futures, we certainly never accused Alice of letting it simply wash her away.

Despite every horrible thing Jasper had been through in his lives, both human and undying, he was at heart a Southern gentleman. If my conflicted heart was seeping through my wintered skin he never acknowledged it out loud. And he left it untouched, unsoothed. We didn't spend very much time together, although he promised one day we might. It was the sort of promise we both knew was better left empty. On occasion though, I thought I caught his golden eyes focused a little to intently on Edward. But just for a moment.

Rosalie voted 'no', but she never explained how it could work any other way, because it couldn't.

What are you giving up, Bella? You'll have far too long to think about that, I promise you, she said, looking straight into me with crimson eyes, and then past me into another night altogether. I remember thinking not what I was giving up, but what I was gaining. And I couldn't wait to spend far too long basking in it. In the end, however, Rosalie loved Edward. He was family and family would be protected. And when family included me, she didn't let me down: Rosalie didn't make me many promises but she kept every one of them.

Jacob had promised me he wouldn't hurt me, that he would not cut me in half, that he would remain my friend, that he would wait for me. I suppose I hadn't truly understood that those promises were made to a girl with a beating heart and a tendency to trip over her own feet. That girl died. And when she did, he scattered his promises about her feet like dead leaves fallen from the trees as winter comes.

Jacob Black promised that girl she would love him.

And I do.

From far away, for far too long and always in winter.