This was where I loved to be.

Right here, in my love's arms, my soul mate. Safe...protected...loved. It was like I was tightly bundled in my own small quilt of safety, guaranteed that nothing else would matter as long as I was there, that in those beautiful moments I spent with him I needn't have a worry or a care. And although the source of this peaceful quilt wasn't exactly the most comfortable-physically, mind you-thing in the world, I preferred it to even the softest cushion to exist. I loved the hardness of it...the warmth that seemed to radiate into me as I lay in my bed, in his arms...it was so hot, almost burning...

I sat up quickly, frowning. It was too warm, whereas most of my days since I had been with him were woken with a slight chill, the shiver of the lacking heat-a sacrifice I had chosen to make by laying with him through the night. But this-it was like I was laying in a sauna. And even if he had dropped himself into a scalding cauldron of hot water, my love could never produce this much heat.

I heard a shhhing sound from beside me, a large hand starting to massage my back. "Come back, honey, lie down...relax..."

Was I imagining the too-rough tone in his voice? Usually every word he uttered was silky smooth, like half-melted butter...or the finest silk...it was rarely tough or coarse, and never heavily-breathed. In fact, it was one of the physical things that I loved most about him-the angelic sound that came to me like music whenever he said my name; like it was an angel singing to me, though he would scoff at the idea of being compared to a creature of heaven. But I didn't care. In my eyes, no act of sin-no matter how deadly-could turn me away from being in his presence.

So I ignored the unbearable heat, the rough of his voice, and the calluses on his hands, lying back down under the red linen covers.

Okay, there was definitely something wrong here. This did not seem like my bed, this did not seem like my house, and this did not seem like Edward Cullen, the man I had fallen in love with. "Edward?" And as I turned around, I realized why these things had seemed. Because this was not my bed, this was not my house, and this was not my room.

And this was not Edward.

I screamed, shrieking as I fell off the bed-inevitable, for a klutz like me-as I tried to defend myself; only to find that the best chance of not hurting myself was to clutch onto something and hold on. I did so, hastily swiping a lacy red pillow about two feet away, having fallen off the floor with me in my shock. Trying to shimmy away on my butt, I yelled, "Okay, I don't know what the hell you're doing in my house, but I demand that you leave right now!"

He looked confused. "Um…Bella? This isn't your house…technically-"

"Technically, you're an asshole! What the heck did you do to me? Drug me; drag me off to some cheap hotel with puky red linen sheets? Honestly, I thought I could trust you as a friend, but you had to take it to a whole other level, didn't you?" I was fuming-I wanted so badly to hit something-to hit him.

"Listen, Bells, honey-I know you've been having some kind of weird mood swings lately, what with your…condition…but seriously, I don't have any idea what you're talking about. Listen, baby, why don't you come back over here and lay with me? You're tired…I can tell…" He started to get up, walking slowly over to me.

"No! Explain to me what's happening. Right. Now."

Jacob Black stared at me as if I belonged in a mental asylum. "You," he pointed at me, "Are Isabella Marie Swan. And I," he pointed to himself, "Am Jacob Black. This is our house. This is our room. This is our bed. We live in LaPush, in Washington, which is in the United States, which is on the continent of North America, which is on the planet Earth. You are twenty-eight years old, and you are about to be married to me in one week. You-"

I cut him off, shaking my head and pinching the bridge of my nose. "Stop, stop, stop!" I sunk farther into the floor, squeezing my eyes shut. This was not happening. Was I truly married to Jacob? And twenty eight years? "What month is it, Jake?"

He spoke carefully, as if afraid that I would snap again. "Um…July…July 13th, honey…"

"The thirteenth of July…it's been exactly ten years since the war…since the killing and the fighting…"

He nodded he head, his expression becoming dark as he remembered. "Yeah, ten years…Hey, do you remember when you rejected me? For that bloodsucker, too. But you came back for me, you told me you considered your options, that you decided that living was truly the thing you wanted most. You wanted to have sun, to have warmth. You wanted to be able to kiss someone without the fear of dying, to be able to hold something other than an ice-cold rock." He laughed at that, though the mention of Edward was visibly disturbing him. "Why did you say his name? It's been years, anyway, and I thought you forgot about him."

I had been taking it all in-the facts that were supposedly true now. Had I forgotten about Edward? My body seemed numb, unresponsive. Finally, though, I looked at Jacob and whispered, "…Forgot?"

"Yeah, as in, you promised not to think or talk about him after we got together."

"I forgot about him." I said, and it seemed so uncomplicated on the surface.

"Yes, Bella." He seemed to be getting agitated now, nervous.

He slowly made his way closer, sitting down next to me. Grabbing my hand in his own, I still looked as tiny as ever next to the gigantic form that was his body. My whole hand was just barely larger than his palm, and was getting hot in the overwhelming heat that he gave off. I could feel an arm snaking around my waist, and soon felt him slide closer so that his hot skin could be felt, even through the fabric of our clothes.

I didn't know where this was going, but I didn't exactly want to find out.

"Stop," I whispered, gently pushing him away as his head began to lean closer to mine. This was going too far-how was I to stop him if we had any physical contact? Surely not by force-no, he was entirely too strong for that. And how was I supposed to speak through that? He had kissed me before, and the only thing that had gotten me was a broken hand.

He frowned, inches away from my face. "Why? Bella, both you and I know that you want this. You want me. And I know that I want you. So what's the problem? It's not even as if you haven't kissed me before or even gone beyond that. We've been together for ten years, Bells! We're about to be married! Let loose, even if you're a little freaked out by some strange temporary amnesia or something. You love me."

I knew this was true-I did love him, with all my heart. But sometimes it seemed that I had two hearts-one belonging to the man in front of me, and another belonging to a very different man away from here-perhaps miles and miles. But did I love him enough to forget that other man, even if for only a few minutes? In this life, maybe, I could have one heart, the heart that belongs to him. After all, I was eager to see this life...a life that I could possibly have with him...

I swallowed, whispering what he had just said, "I love you..."

Was I confirming it?

Was I that eager to see this maybe-future of mine, if I were to choose him? If I had chosen him? Surely I hadn't-I was so sure of my own choice that night when I went to say goodbye to him. I knew that I loved Edward-but didn't I tell myself that I loved Jacob, too? Loved him more than a friend, like I loved Edward...although I knew that it was a different love-a stronger one, one that I shared with my soul mate.

But could I see how this played out? In this different world, this dream? It had to be a dream-there was no way that I could have gone ten years without knowing or feeling anything. At least, that was what I was telling myself.

So I let him pull closer to me. I let him put his large warm hands on both sides of my face. I let him pull me in so that our noses were touching, our lips just an inch away from the other. I let him drag his hands down to my shoulders, holding me in place as if I were locked in an unbreakable clasp. I let him smile at me, forcing me to do the same. I let him slowly move his lips toward my own, and I watched as they neared closer and closer until...

I woke up suddenly as I rolled onto the ground, the floor hitting me square in the face. I grunted, unmoving. "Why, hello floor. How are you this...morning?" I glanced over to the alarm clock-in the same place by my own bed, as always-glowing a dull green in the dark. 3:41. "Edward?" It was the first thing that came out of my mouth.

No answer-as I had sort of expected. He was out hunting tonight.

Then, my entire dream came back to me-me, ten years from this moment, with and almost-married to Jacob Black! It had all seemed so real, that for a bit I had truly believed that I was with him. Could this be true? After a few anxious moments, I tentatively called out, "...Jacob?"

Still no answer.

Okay, so it definitely was a dream. But it seemed so detailed...and I could remember the entire thing, as if it had happened in real life, as opposed to forgetting even the people who had been involved in it-something that normally happened when I had dreams this complex. And after a few moments of thinking hard, I decided that the only way to get back to the dream was to fall asleep again and hope that I went back to where I left off.

I closed my eyes.

Moments later, I was hit with a strange sensation. Light, feathery tickles ran up and down my neck, making me giggle uncharacteristically. They teased across my collar bone...up to my jaw...they traveled across my skin, making something tingle inside of me. They mesmerized my face, barely putting pressure so that I couldn't distinguish what exactly it was. This is a strange dream, I thought, giggling again.

Was I back in the dream? Was it Jacob who was making me feel this way? Slowly, cautiously, afraid that the wonderful strokes would stop, I opened my eyes. They were bleary, but I could make out a red bed-just as the one I had seen in my last dream, with Jacob. I grinned, saying softly, "Jacob?"

And then I was on my face, buried in the cushion of the bed.

I sat up quickly, looking around. My eyes were sharp now, focused-in fact, they were clearer than they had ever been in my lifetime. It was like everything was ice-sharp and clear, although I had always had perfect vision. My skin, too, seemed very fragile. I could feel every rough stitch of the silk fabric of the bed, now making me realize that it was very different from the last that I was on.

And as I looked over to the opposite side of the room, I saw Edward.

He was staring at me, a mix of different incomprehensible expressions on his face...and the majority of them were not happy. He was still as perfect as ever, of course-more beautiful than anyone ever deserved to be, even with his jaw tightened and his eyes a coal black. His hands were balled into fists-something that I recognized that he did whenever he got truly angry. Though the source of his fury was unknown to me.

"Oh!" I said, both surprised and a bit afraid. "Hello...Edward..." It sounded more like a question.

"Jacob?" He asked sourly, his teeth clenched in aggravation.

And then I realized what had caused him to be upset. I had expected Jacob to be here, assuming that it had been the same dream as the last. and in my abrupt assumption, I had called out to Jacob, who was not really there because, apparently, this was VERY different dream, in which there was no Jacob Black present. And apparently, that had annoyed Edward, who I had no idea had been there so it wasn't really my fault, and APPARENTLY, I was in some foreign room. Again.

Oh. Crap.

"Oh. Crap." I said, the only words I could utter and think in this state of shock. "I...uh...um...oh crap..."

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes. Now, would you mind explaining to me why you're saying..." He paused, leaving that moment to finish itself, and began again. "Right now, of all places!" He now took on an exasperated expression, although his eyes were still tensed.

I got up slowly, thinking of how I could exlplain this. How was I going to tell someone in a dream of another dream? A dream that included me being in love with another man, especially! Taking careful steps, I walked over to him, a cautious expression on my face. He just stood there, watching me, scrutinizing my features and tone, and I could tell that he was confused. As I got to him, I realized that there was nothing I could say-at least, there was nothing that I could think of at this moment.

I gently laid my head against his chest, letting my arms sneak around his neck. I could feel the muscles and tendons underneath the pale, cool skin relaxing, and I could tell I was forgiven. "I'm sorry." I whispered simply, hoping that my assumption had been right.

He responded by sweeping me off of my legs, carrying me in a bridal style to the large bed-the only piece of furniture that had made me not recognize that this was his room, in his own house.

He smiled and cradeled me against his chest, his eyes much softer than what they had been before-now a liquid gold, although tinted with a very edge of darkness. But I was soon distracted from that train of thought when he started to touch me. He lighted skimmed his hands across my face...my collar bone...my stomach...I shuddered, trying to keep him from noticing my ragged breath by holding the air in my lungs. And for a long time, I did, while he just slowly brushed his hands across my body.

Geeze, I'm better at this than I thought...I laughed inwardly at my little observation. I was just pleased that I was able to keep this going long enough without having him stop in worry.

But then, as he bent his face down to mine, I almost collapsed-not from the need of oxygen but the fact that I needed to faint. His movements were so slow and agonizing that I almost let out a huge sigh. But I held it together as if I didn't need any type of air at all, like I was a...I stopped myself, not going any further. It would sour the moment, me thinking what could-will, I corrected myself-be, and how Edward was so opposed and disgusted by the idea.

So instead of either fainting or thinking about it, I tried to make light conversation in the moment. "I feel like I've been having a whirlwind of strange dreams lately," I joked-how strange was it that I was telling this to a dream?

His brow furrowed in confusion for a moment, making him slightly hesitate, but then went on with his actions. He gave a short laugh.

His lips then went to brush against my cheekbones, making a trail up to my eyelids. I was feeling dizzy from the sensation of him, of being with him. So help me Lord, I will definitely pass out if I don't get control of myself, I thought, and began again. "So, I'm surprised that you haven't told me to breath yet-aren't you concerned for my safety any more?" I laughed jokingly again, expecting that he'd just smile and shake his head and tell me that he was always concerned-like always.

But instead, he stopped. He sat up straight and looked at me with a strange expression. "Concerned? Why should I be concerned? Bella, what are you talking about?"

And at that moment I jumped from his arms, across the room to where a long mirror lay, rarely used. I felt silly, but at the same time, alarmed. It couldn't be, could it? Not even in a dream. In fact, I don't think it would happen even in the most amazing, wonderful, fantastical-

I woke up screaming.