What if Bella had chosen Jacob? What if she had accepted that Edward was now a part of her past – albeit an immense part – and that she had to move on? In this alternative ending to New Moon and ultimately the entire Twilight saga, the scene is radically different.
Bella fell in love with Jacob. After she finished high school she attended Washington State and got her degree in social work. Now she has a job with the government on the res, where she lives with Jacob. Unlike Edward, Jacob did not insist that he and Bella and marry, and they are living happily and comfortably (and using birth control) in the little house Jacob built for them. Jacob owns his own mechanics shop, specializing in high-speed vehicles, especially motorcycles.
Everything seems perfect in their lives. And then he comes back.
Bella slung her briefcase off her shoulder and onto the catchall chair in the parlor. Sighing she crossed the little room into the kitchen, where she pushed open the window over the sink. Fresh, salty air flowed in, brushing gently over her face, reminding her how wonderful life really was, no matter how hectic things got at the office. She could hear the waves crashing on the cliffs below and looking out she felt she could almost touch the curved horizon of the Pacific. She loved this house. For a moment she remembered the huge mansion decaying somewhere in the woods of Forks. How grand it was, how beautiful. But this little place was her own. And it was perfect.
She glanced at the digital clock over the stove; it was 5:30. Jacob should be back any minute now. She ought to get supper started. She crossed the room and switched on the radio, turning it up loud. The music filled the little house and she danced to it as she moved about the kitchen. Soon she had a pot of water boiling for spaghetti and the oven preheating for chicken patties. His favorite.
The screen door slammed and she froze, waiting. She couldn't hear him moving over the music and she kept her eyes on the sauce that was bubbling in its pan. What a sweet game. His arms wrapped around her and she grinned, turning her head to look around at him.
"Hey, Babe," he murmured as his mouth pressed against hers. She turned around, pressing against him. His hands found their way around her, one weaving through her hair, the other under her shirt against the bare skin of the small of her back. They were big and rough and slick with grease, but gentle. His body against hers was luxuriously warm. His breath was soft against her cheek. His lips were smooth and sweet. She melted.
Too soon he pulled away. His eyes lingered over the stove. "Spaghetti? That's my favorite."
"I know," she laughed. "How was work?"
"You should have seen the Harley this one guy brought in!" he exclaimed, settling down at the kitchen table. He talked animatedly for a while as she worked. Finally he fell silent, watching her as she finished up on the spaghetti. The light in the room was waning.
He got up again, flicked on the light switch, and moving to the cupboard to take down plates and utensils. Together they set the table and settled down to eat. He devoured his food before she was halfway finished. The thought "hungry as a wolf" popped into her mind and she smiled wryly. He glanced up at her as he scraped his plate clean.
"What?" he whined.
She grinned and shook her head. "Nothin'."
He glared at her, the corners of his mouth twitching for a smile. Then he rolled his eyes and reached for another helping. "So how was your day?" he asked as he dished noodles onto his plate.
"Oh, the usual. Paperwork. I want to go out in the field so bad," she moaned. "I didn't get a double major in social work and psychology to be sitting behind a desk."
He looked at her sympathetically. "You'll get there. Everybody has to start out at the bottom."
"You didn't," she pouted.
He laughed lightly. "I'm the bottom and the top. It kinda works that way when you own your own single-man business. Besides, I'm not exactly raking it in."
"But you like what you do."
"Don't you? I mean, besides all the paperwork. It'll get better. Just hang on."
They finished their meal and he sprang up before she could move, scooping up the dishes into one precarious armful. "I'll do the dishes tonight." He smiled charmingly. Warmth flowed through her.
When the kitchen was clean they sat down in the living room. She leaned back against the armrest of the sofa, just looking at him. He tilted his head, a curious smile creeping across his face. He was so wonderful. It seemed amazing that they had come so far. After Edward had left she had thought she would die. But it was Jacob who had saved her, Jacob who had stood by her all those dark days. And now she understood. It was Jacob who had loved her, always. It didn't matter to him that she was a weak, fragile human; that there were other women more beautiful than she. He loved her unconditionally, for who she was. And he wasn't ashamed of who he was, like Edward had been. He was proud of his heritage. He loved her too much to even believe that he could allow harm to come to her.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked teasingly.
"What a sexy man-beast you are," she laughed, sliding closer to him until her body was curled against his. He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tight, and growled in her ear.
"Wanna take this to the bedroom?"
"No, I like this couch," she said. "The looove seat."
He laughed. "That is so cheesy." His lips pressed against her cheekbone, then her jaw line. She turned her head so that her lips found his again. Slowly they slid down on the couch, entangled in each other.
He was wrapped around her on the narrow sofa, his bare skin soft and hot against hers. She loved the way his chest rose and fell against her back, in perfect rhythm. Maybe she could lie like this forever. She could hear the ever-sighing sea; they'd left that window open. She smelled salt and grease and him. Sighing she nestled even closer to him, if that were possible. He moaned happily in his sleep and she smiled.
A while later she opened her eyes. The room was bright now, sunlight streaming through the window over the love seat. It felt like it must have been about ten in the morning. Saturdays were the best. He was stirring behind her.
"You awake?" she whispered.
He groaned and wrapped his arms again around her chest. "No."
She grinned. "Come on, it's Saturday and already at least ten."
He sighed and yawned and sat slowly up, pulling her with him. He smiled sleepily and glanced around the room. "So it is. What are we gonna do today, Babe? Hiking, swimming, fishing, movie marathon – "
"I thought maybe we could paint the outside of the house. It's starting to peel, especially sea side, and I'm getting tired of storm gray." He moaned again and started sliding back down the couch. She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back up. "Come on, get up. I'll make you pancakes."
"Deal." He stretched to his feet, pushing his hands against the ceiling until it creaked.
"Don't bring the house down, honey," she called over her shoulder as she headed into the kitchen.
"I'll try," he yelled back. She smirked and started pulling out the Aunt Jemima pancake mix. He followed her into the kitchen and started rummaging through the refrigerator.
"Why don't you go down and buy some more primer," she said. "I'm pretty sure we're out. And pick out a good color too."
"Any ideas?" he asked, pulling out the milk and eggs for her.
"Mmm, surprise me. Something different though."
"Alright, let me get dressed."
He disappeared back into the living room and a few minutes later she heard the screen door slam behind him and the truck engine roar to life. The hardware store was only about five minutes away, plenty of time for him to be back for pancakes.
She hummed as she worked. The smell of cooking batter filled the room. Suddenly a rap sounded on the door. She froze. Who on earth? With a start of horror she realized she had left her clothes in the living room. The curtains of the wall-length front window were wide open. Frantically she pulled the pan off the stove and peered out of the kitchen. Good, whoever it was, they were standing right next to the door. If she couldn't see them, they couldn't see her. They knocked again and she darted across the living room and snatched up her clothes. She jerked them on, her fingers fumbling in her haste, and flung the door open.
"Good – " The greeting died on her lips. She slumped against the doorframe, her heart hammering like a battering ram in her chest. Those topaz eyes. Exactly the same. Breathtakingly beautiful. It felt like seeing a ghost. His eyes flickered over her and then past her into the house, his expression impenetrable. His voice was a whisper.
"Bella."
"Edward." It was a question, a silent shout of rage, a sigh of longing, a spark of fear. What was he doing here? What had happened? There were too many questions to keep silent. "W-why – What are you doing?"
For the first time his carefully held façade began to waver. He swallowed, his brilliant eyes changing somehow. Like he was begging her and begging himself. "Bella, I came to see you."
Suddenly she straightened, anger shooting through her. So now he came to see her. Now that he had no right. Did he finally want her, after all these years? Had he finally decided that he had made a mistake? Well it was too late for him. He had left her and she had moved on, as he had wanted her to, as she had thought he had done. Her emotions were no game that he could pick up when he fancied and put down again when he tired of it.
"What do you want?" Her voice was hard. He seemed taken aback by her stark tone. Well what did he expect, that he could just come pick up where he had left off? But he seemed to gather his wits. His eyes were locked with hers, begging her to understand. It seemed strange that they could be so alluring yet so repulsive at the same time. Those eyes she had once lost herself in. But not anymore.
"I made a mistake, Bella. Please, forgive me."
She stared at him, calculating. For the first time it was he who withdrew his gaze first. "Why did you come back, Edward?" she whispered. "You said you would never come back. You said you wanted me to forget."
"I – I was wrong! Bella, I love you!"
So he loved her now. After he'd given her up. After he'd left her to die. Now that she was not his to love.
"I'm with Jacob, Edward," she said coldly, even though she knew that he knew. Still he stiffened slightly at his name. His eyes flickered past her to the house.
"I know he's your boyfriend, Bella, but – "
"He's not my boyfriend. He's my husband." His eyes flickered in surprise. "But unlike you," she continued, "he didn't need a stupid ceremony to bind us together. Just love, true love."
"Bella, I've always loved you!"
"And? I love Jacob. You don't get it! Just because I'm not 'married' to him doesn't mean he's not, somehow, less important to me. I love him, Edward. I would never leave him." She folded her arms defiantly.
"But you used to love me," he said softly, his eyes finding hers again, piercing through her.
"Yeah, back when I thought you loved me too."
His eyes widened in shock. "But I did love you! I do!"
She felt cold, even though the sea breeze was warm on her skin. "You left me, Edward. That's not love."
"You know why I left!" he cried. "It was too dangerous!"
"Then why did you come back!"
"Because I was wrong. I know I won't hurt you, Bella. And you know that too. It's just you and me."
"And Jacob. I did love you, Edward. Maybe I still do. But I love him now. And I can trust him. I know that he will never leave me."
"I – " He stammered, lost for words. She could see that her words had hurt him. But only because they were true, because he had left her, and Jacob had been there to pick her up.
Suddenly he stepped forward, a desperate move. Feebly she tried to turn away. She wanted to, but a part of her wanted to feel him again, one more time. That part slowed her down, made her hesitate, just enough to give him confidence.
His cold, hard arms were around her. Like living stone. His lips were cold, so cold. But they moved perfectly against hers and they tasted like – indescribable. And somehow, there was the hint of a spark, and she was warm against his freezing body, like ice melting fire.
And she did love him. But Jacob. Sweet, gentle Jacob. She loved his smile, his warmth, his laugh. How could someone love two people so differently, yet so strongly? But she knew there could only be one. It wouldn't be right to use them, to cater them to her desires, even though both perhaps would be willing. She had to choose one or neither. She could not bear the thought of being alone. But she could not bear the thought of losing again someone she loved.
Suddenly Edward jerked away from her, whirling around to stand between her and the road. "Jacob!" he hissed. Her heart leapt painfully, for barreling down the road, a mere hundred yards away, was the truck. There was no possibility that Jacob's sharp eyes could have missed their exchange.
"Edward, go, run!" she gasped, trying vainly to move around him. But he held her back effortlessly.
"Get in the house, Bella," he growled. But Jacob was already leaping out of the truck, even as it was still moving.
"What the hell!" he shouted, storming across the yard, his face contorted with rage. "What the hell are you doing here! You!" he turned on Bella and her heart twisted at the betrayal etched in his features. "You! Him! – " He was shaking with rage. She had never been afraid of him, but now she was terrified by the murder she saw in his eyes. Then Edward shifted and she caught a glimpse of his face. It was cold, calculating, a split second of hesitation as he realized his advantage. But Jacob hadn't transformed in over six years.
She screamed just as Edward sprang forward, away from her. "Jacob! No!" Miraculously Edward wavered in his assault, caught in his madness by the anguish in her voice. That was all the time Jacob needed. With an enormous, rippling shudder he exploded and the man was gone, replaced by a horrific beast. His russet fur bristled along his back, his black eyes flashed madly, his bared teeth snapped inches from Edward's face. A snarl ripped from his throat as Edward spun away.
Bella sank against the doorframe, watching in horror as they circled, each waiting for the other to make a misstep. Then it happened, too subtle, too quick for her human eyes. But in a split second they were on each other. Edward's hands clasped vice like around Jacob's muzzle, his own teeth grazing across the wolf's fur. But Jacob tore away, his huge paw swiping at Edward and barely missing. Again they leapt at each other, all caution lost now, moving so quickly that she could catch little of the fight.
Suddenly a cry of pain split the air and Jacob was flung back. He hit the ground hard, his body writhing horribly. Edward sprung again at him, feline and impossibly swift. But already Bella was moving, hurtling forward, flinging herself in his path. Then there was a hard jolt, a flash of hot pain, and she was gone.
Edward fell to his hands and knees, staring in horror at her still body. He had struck her. The blow meant to kill Jacob had hit her instead as she had crossed his path, too sudden for even him to react. Jacob rolled to his feet, panting and trembling. Pain shot through his chest and spine, but it was nothing. Bella. Bella. He scrabbled toward her body five yards away, slowed by the deadness in his hind legs. Desperately he lowered his face to hers, his ears twitching toward her, his nose pulling at her scent. She couldn't. No. Bella. He loved her more than anything. She was his and he was hers. How could he have forgotten? Sweet, happy Bella. He loved her smile, her warmth, her laugh. But now he was cold. Like ice melting fire.
The wolf was gone and a man, naked and shivering, knelt over her body. Slowly Edward crept forward, desperate to see her, to know that she was alive. She had to be. He couldn't have.
Jacob didn't look up as he approached, but said, in a low voice thick with grief, "Just go away. You've done enough. Please, leave."
Edward stood and stepped closer until he was standing over Jacob. He was so weak, vulnerable right now. But Edward felt none of the burning, instinctual hatred for him that had coursed through him a mere minute ago. Only shock, denial, an almost desperate need for haste. She had to be.
He knelt beside her, across from Jacob. "Are you sure – "
"I'm sure, Edward!" he gasped angrily. But he made no move to stop him as Edward leaned over, his ear pressed to her chest. There, he was wrong. There was the faint, struggling movement of her dying heart, barely perceptible even to his ears.
Without thinking, following some wild, desperate impulse, he sank his teeth into her neck, over her collarbone. He could feel the blood moving languidly through the vein. Then it seemed to go cold, even to his feeling. He heard Jacob's strangled gasp but jerked away almost as soon as he had bitten her. He glanced at Jacob and, to his own amazement, felt shame, remorse for what he had done to this man. For what he had so selfishly ripped from his grasp.
"She's alive. It's the only way to save her. She was dying, Jacob."
For a long moment Jacob sat there, his face impassive. Then he bowed his head into his hands. "How long?" he whispered.
"Three days. It's going to be horrible, worse than anything she's every gone through. But she'll live." Jacob's face twitched painfully. Uncertainty shot through Edward. He shouldn't have done it. It would have been better for her to die. It was cruel, selfish. Not love to put her through such horror. He knew there were only moments before the pain tore her back from death into a living hell. But there was nothing he could do now to stop it.
"We have to take her inside," he said. Jacob nodded and struggled to rise, but his legs lay dead beneath him. He clenched his teeth and sat back panting.
"Take her. The bedroom upstairs."
Edward nodded and gently lifted her. He carried her to the door and, with one look back at Jacob lying on the ground, went in. A moment later her scream rent the air.