"Bella, we need to talk."
Nothing good ever came from those four words. I should've known then to run. Make him catch me and maybe forget what he wanted to talk to me about. He was a much faster runner than I was, so it would be more of a series of sprints, but I would try all the same. I felt my heart slam against my chest, silently praying I had read his face wrong. "O.K."
"I've been offered a job." His eyes wouldn't meet mine, holding a view of the overgrown forest that rested under our feet. This couldn't be good.
"A job? You have one already. Why would you need a new one?" I matched his stare, or more like the top of his head. When he lifted it, I would be ready to try to read his face. It was the only defense I had. His eyes always had a way of hiding from me, but his mouth never did.
"I don't need a new one, but I don't think I can really say no to this one." He didn't move his head. In fact, he didn't move anything. He stood as still as if he was made from stone.
"I thought I was the only thing you couldn't say no to." I tried to offer a hint of humor, anything to change the look I knew must've been on his face.
It didn't work. His shoulders squared, and I saw the slow steady rhythm of his breathing halted. How did he do that? I was never able to stop my body from showing signs of life, and for him it was almost a habit.
"Bella . . . "
"Yeah?" Oh God, just get it over with.
"I was offered a job . . . in Italy." He finally brought his head up. For once, I didn't stand a chance of reading it. He blocked me and every silent avenue of reading his mind. I started to panic.
"Italy?" I choked back the panic that gripped me.
"Yeah, it's a great opportunity . . . once-in-a-lifetime really."
"How long?"
"A year, maybe longer."
"I see. When would you need to let them know?" It was obvious, at least to the part of me that admitted how well I knew him, that there wasn't a time line for accepting, only leaving.
"I already accepted." And there it was, the lone signal I needed two minutes before that moment. The corners of his eyes dipped, the corners of his mouth straightened.
"What? How could you? Didn't you think we needed to talk about this? I mean Italy is huge! It's not like moving from Forks to Seattle. We have the house and my grad school and . . . "
"Bella . . . "
"No! How could you accept this without even talking to me first? I can't just uproot myself now. This is my last year of grad school. I've worked too hard to postpone graduation now. Not to mention the thought of trying to get accepted somewhere overseas. I can't just shift gears that fast, Edward."
"You're not going," he whispered so quietly, I almost didn't hear him.
"What? I didn't hear you," I lied.
He took a slow, long breath. "You're not going."
"What? What do you mean I'm not going? How could I not go with you?" It was less a question and more of a confused statement. What did he mean, I wasn't going with him? What did he think I would do? He knew I would go wherever he was. That was just understood. We belonged together, wherever that might be.
"I'm sorry." His head hung low again, his voice matched.
"You're sorry? What? Edward?" Panic made its way front and center.
"It's just the right thing to do." His head never moved.
"For you . . . or for us?" I felt the tears stinging behind my eyes, silently praying I wasn't about to hear what I feared could be said.
"I love you." Again, his voice was so quiet. I almost didn't hear it.
"I love you too. Edward, you're really scaring me."
"I just don't see any other way." He pinched the bridge of his nose, not a good sign.
"Other way?"
"I love you, but . . . "
"No! I love you. Don't do this!" I was shaking.
"Bella, it's just that . . . the pieces don't fit any more." His eyes looked as though they were searching, as if even he wasn't sure of his words. I put every last hope into that. "It's just no use trying."
"What?" It was my turn now. My voice, barely above a whisper, would betray me if it went any louder. I pinched my eyes tight, forcing back the tears. It felt as if hours had past rather than minutes, before I finally opened my eyes to look at him. For a brief moment, I could've sworn I saw a look of anguish in his eyes and on his face before went back to its hardened state. I needed to act fast before I lost him forever, as my instinct told me I would. "Edward, think about this for a second. It doesn't have to be this way. You can go, and we can still be together. I can figure out how to visit you and you will surely have time to come home to see me."
"No." Again with his stillness. I wanted to shake him, if only I could stop shaking myself first.
"I'm sure it can't be that hard. I can just bring my stuff with me and still work and not delay graduation."
"No."
"Why not? You know it can work. If it's only a year . . . "
"It might not be, Bella. I might decide to stay there . . . permanently."
I didn't say a word. I just stared at him in disbelief.
"It's been more than seven years." His voice hit the hard edge I hate hearing. He reserved that tone for times when his mind was made up and he was forcing someone to stop arguing and just give in to his will, even if it was against their own. And then, all too suddenly, his face changed. Gone were the soft features I could still make out under the hard edges and creased lines. The look that met my eyes was, in a word, mean. His words were meant to do just what his face had set up, to kill me. "You didn't really think that I was going to marry you, did you?"
I opened my mouth to fight back, no sound passed over my lips. I tried to manage a squeak, but even that was drowned out by my breaking heart.
"I'll have my dad come and get my stuff later this week."
"Go to hell." It was all I could say, and it wasn't even what I wanted to say. I didn't understand where the words were coming from. Why would I ever think to say that to him? My Edward.
"Bella . . . " His voice was leading, almost pleading me to understand some hidden message I wasn't understanding.
"No." My voice was firm, almost harsh and it surprised me. I realized then it was self preservation talking, not my heart. "Don't 'Bella' me. What is wrong with you? Why would you do . . . how could you lie . . . "
"I'm not lying, Bella," he said, flinching.
"So . . . what? What has all of this been? Seven years is a long time to just decide one day to throw it away."
"It's what has to be done. I just wish you could understand that." He reached out to touch my shoulder. I could feel my skin burning underneath his touch. It wasn't the usual heat that reached me when he touched me. This was something else, something I'd never felt because of him before. It was a mix or what? Anger and sorrow? I was desperate to do anything to keep him, but repelled by his touch at the same time.
"Oh believe me, I understand. I'm just not good enough for you. I should've seen this coming. How was it ever possible that the standoffish, brooding Edward Cullen would ever be interested in me?"
"That isn't the reason, and you know it." He sounded hurt. Good.
"Then what do I know? Hmm? That you loved me yesterday, and today you don't. That you told me you wouldn't leave me, and now you are?"
"You just have to trust me on this. It's better this way. That's all I can say."
"Trust you? You want my trust after this? Are you high?"
"It's better this way," he spoke more to himself than to me.
"Right. Like it was better that we weren't friends, and yet one day you just upped and decided that you wanted me in your life?" I looked at him and saw his lips drawn into a thin line, his eyes closed, lids flexed as if he was trying to calm himself. "That's what this is about, isn't it? You never did want me. I was nothing more than a . . . a . . . a trophy. What, did you and Emmett have some bet back then to see if I was dumb enough to fall for you?"
"No."
"And then what? You just got stuck with me and suddenly it's seven years later and you finally found a way out?" I was close to full out losing it and it scared me. I wanted to hit him hard and snap him out of wherever was going on in his head.
"I had my reason then to have said that to you, just as I have reasons now."
"Fine. Maybe it always was more prudent for you to not be my friend. I just wish you could've decided that before today, before you destroyed my heart." I started to walk away from him, my eyes brimming with tears making my hasty departure hard to see clearly. I needed to get away from him and fast.
"Bella." His voice was soft and hurt and I wanted more than anything to run and throw myself into his arms and kiss him until his irrational thoughts subsided. But I couldn't, it would hurt too much when he pushed me away.
"What? What more can you possibly have to say to me?" The tears fell like water over a cliff's edge. I felt my chest heave and buckle under the intense pain I was feeling, my voice showing him just how undone I'd become.
"I....I'll never stop loving you." His eyes met mine, registering the pain I was displaying.
I gathered a shaking breath before speaking to him, "No, I don't think you ever really did."
I didn't wait for him to reach out to me, to say my name, to ask me to wait. I took off in a fast walk. My vision completely obstructed forcing me to not run. I never heard him even shift a foot. My heart collapsed in pieces, some of which were shattered beyond recognition. If I was lucky enough to survive this pain, and at that moment I hoped I wouldn't, I knew I would never be able to forgive him. Or to love anyone again.
Six months later . . .
"Dad, seriously, I'm fine. I don't need you to watch over me like this. I am an adult, in case you missed it." As soon as I said it, I wished I hadn't. He had missed a lot of me growing up, and not from his own choice. I didn't need to remind him of my not being as close to him as I should have been in the last seven years. Once I'd started dating . . . No, I wouldn't let myself think of him. I spent too many nights crying over him and the loss of us to allow that gaping wound in my heart to tear open.
"Bella, I just wish you wouldn't hole yourself up in that house of yours. It can't be healthy."
"Dad, the house is fine. I can stand being here, alone, until it sells. Once that is behind me, I can find my own place, maybe even once closer to you. I could take care of dinner for you again."
"Honey, while I would love nothing more than to have that, I just worry about you, well, being alone."
"You don't have to be. I'm ok, really. I am." And I was. As long as I kept repeating that mantra, I was sure one day I would believe it.
"Well still, I just hope you can overlook a father's need to protect his daughter." There was something in his tone that worried me. Not in the usual sense, more like he was trying to confess something to me that where the sin hadn't happened yet.
"Dad, what did you do?" I walked into the kitchen and pulled a bagel from its paper bag.
"Nothing. Much. I'm just worried. I gotta run right now, but I'll call you in a bit to make sure you're still talking to me. Love you." And then the line went dead.
Still talking to him? Why would I stop talking to him. Unless he called . . . Him.
My mind chased around a good few thoughts before my hunger took over. I reached into the kitchen drawer and pulled out the cutting board. I set it down on the island along with the bagel, and walked to the stove to grab the bread knife. I picked up the bagel and paused before cutting it. I looked into the window over the sink. The sun was setting, casting a rose glow over the deep forest just outside the house. Twilight. It was always his favorite time of day, and the time when I missed him the most. I could always get through the evenings, reading or writing something toward my graduate degree, and the days were spent in the library researching. But twilight was that unavoidable time when my mind had its only rest and he always found a way of creeping in.
I was so lost in thought, more like fighting memories, when the sound of knocking on the front door caused me to jump. I looked over to the clock hanging above the back door. Angela. I'd almost completely forgotten she was coming over.
"Come on in. The door's unlocked," I said, picking up the knife and starting to cut the bagel. Company or not, hunger would always win. I was just about to finish the cut when I made the mistake of looking to the window to see if Angela had made it in yet. I wasn't expecting to see the reflection of a ghost.
"Hey Bells."
"Holy Crap," A blinding pain hit me, just before I collapsed to the ground.
I came to, who knows how much later, and before even opening my eyes, felt the intense burning pain in my palm. I tried to focus on something, anything, but the excruciating pain along the raised palm of my left hand. And then I felt something else, something that I had repressed years ago. I felt a warmth on my other hand. A warmth that penetrated into my very soul. No, it couldn't be.
"Bells? You ok?"
"Jake? Is that really you?" I asked, my eyes clenched shut.
"Yeah, it's really me." I heard his voice, deep and husky as ever, touched with sincerity and, could it be after all these years, love?
"What . . . how did you . . . how did I . . . " I didn't want to open my eyes, to find out that this conversation existed only in my head. I'd had enough of those in the past half year.
"I'll start with your first question, all right?" His voice offered a small hint of laughter, "Your dad heard I was back and called me this morning. He asked if I could go see you. Once I found out he wasn't here, it was a no brain-er. Of course I would go see you. As to the how did you . . . well, once you sliced open your hand, that was pretty much it. You passed out from either the sight of blood, the pain, or both. You went down pretty quick. I'm still not sure how you didn't cut your head open."
"Years of practice," I said, referring to my track record with being a complete klutz.
"Yeah, probably. Anyway, I wrapped your hand up and threw you in my car and ended up here. I can't say you didn't have me worried. You soaked that towel."
"Which towel?"
"The green one with all the Oscar Wilde quotes on it," he said, his face neutral.
"Good. It was his," I said, my voice tainted in the venom only found in someone with a broken heart.
"Excellent. You have anything else of his I can destroy for you?" Jake's hearty laugh filled the small exam room. I realized quickly just how much I missed him.
"Let me take a look around. I'm sure I can find something."
"So, how are you?" He wasn't asking about my hand and I knew it, but I didn't want to answer him. "Bells?"
"Not right now, k? I will later, but not now." I met his eyes, hoping he wouldn't press. He didn't. It was one of only a few times Jake didn't press where Edward was considered.
"I bet you want to get out of here, don't you?" He squeezed my hand. He hadn't forgotten much over the years, had he?
"More than anything."
"Right. Let me get that nurse and see what I can make happen."
He walked out of the small room, the curtain fluttered in his wake. I closed my eyes, forcing a fresh batch of tears back. No, I simply wasn't going to cry. Jake was back and that was all that mattered. It didn't matter that my dad interfered, that I cut my hand open, or that I was in the emergency room. What mattered was the sun had finally returned to my life. Jake returned a few minutes later, a nurse following him.
"That was fast."
"It's all about who you know. She's a La Push girl." Jacob winked at me, a small grin spread across my face. How was it that he always made me laugh when I needed it the most?
"Ms. Swan? How are you feeling?" The nurse picked up my chart, as if that had the answer to her question.
"Fine. I guess . . . humiliation aside." I looked down at the heavily bandaged proof of my clumsiness.
"Well, since you didn't get a concussion, I think we might be able to release you tonight. I've paged the on-call doctor and he should be here in a moment." She smiled a professional smile, placed the chart back on the hook and breezed back out.
"She was like that growing up too," Jacob laughed, rolling his eyes as the curtain fluttered.
I smiled at him, thankful that he was here with me and not Charlie or Angela. I knew if they had been, this would've been turned into a near amputation. I heard voices softly speaking on the other side of the curtain, my name was mentioned once, and then the curtain lifted. The sight was enough to suck the air from my lungs.
"Hello Bella." Carlisle stood as elegant and perfect as he had the last time I'd seen him. Or any time that I'd seen him for that matter.
"Hi, Da . . . Dr. Cullen." I noticed him wince when he heard me. I didn't know what else to call him. Certainly I couldn't go on calling him Dad, could I?
"Well," he started, the professional tone returning to his voice. I hated hearing that, but really, was there much other choice? "I'm sure you're anxious to find out about your hand, aren't you?"
"Yes, how bad is it?" I prepared myself for months of physical therapy from cutting important and needed tendons.
"All things considered? I've seen much worse. You did some damage, but nothing that won't heal up on it's own in a few weeks. It will be quite tender tough." He reached for my hand and started unraveling the bandages. I made me think of all those mummy movies. Just how much gauze had been used to wrap my hand? I got my answer when he finished his last pass. "Bella, you might want to prepare yourself for this. It looks much worse than it is."
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes for a second and opened them. Part of me was glad that it was Carlisle taking care of me. At least he knew from many years what my triggers were where biology was concerned.
He gently cleared the last of the gauze away and I was left with an iodine-dyed, purple- aggravated-colored, black-thread-knotted mess on the fat part of my palm. I felt the bile rising in my throat. Jacob obviously caught this too and reached for the kidney-shaped bowl Carlisle was handing him. I tried to get past the urge to vomit, but it was nearing an impossible level.
"You've seen worse?" It was all I could manage to get out before the urge swept over me again. Jacob moved the bowl closer to my head, but I shook it off.
"Hard as that may seem. Don't forget, I raised two boys and, you know, being a doctor . . . but yes, much worse."
There was no way I could forget that he raised two boys. No matter how much I wish I could forget one in particular, it wasn't going to happen. Carlisle must have sensed something because his face softened. "Jacob, I was wondering if I could have a moment alone with Bella."
"You okay with that?" Jacob asked, his tone flat.
"Yeah, I suppose there must be some doctor-patient thing he needs to talk to me about. You know, privacy act or something."
"Kay. I'll, uh, just be on the other side of the curtain."
Carlisle waited for the curtain to stop shifting before he took my right hand in his. "Bella, how have you been? Honestly? Esme and I have been worried sick."
"I'm good. I'm fine. I've been all right." I offered every response I had trained myself to give.
"That bad, huh?" he asked gently. His eyes were softer than I remembered.
I couldn't respond. What could I say? No, I've only just now been able to think about him without being reduced to a crying, shaking heap of humanity? No. I couldn't say that to him. Father or not, no parent needs to hear about the devastation their child has caused.
"We've been thinking of you. Wondering if it would ever be ok for us to call. Alice," he exhaled sharply, "she's been a mess since she heard."
"How is she?" I honestly wanted to know. Outside of him, she was the next closest person in my life. I had shut her out as quickly as I had everyone in the days immediately following. I hadn't meant for it to go on as long as it did with her, but I just couldn't bring myself to see her or talk to her. It was too painful. And now, well now it simply had to be too late to try to work things out with her. Even if it wasn't, I didn't think I could bear hearing how he was doing, that he was moving on with his life. A life he didn't want me anywhere near or a part of.
"She's doing well. She moved to Seattle a month ago. It was just becoming too hard to commute. Her client list is growing. Who knew you could make a living as a personal shopper?" he said with a half hearted chuckled.
"Alice knew. She always knows." I returned the good-natured laugh. Somehow, Alice always seemed to be one step ahead of the trends, making a nice small fortune for herself in the process. She also had a knack for knowing when a trend was on its way out and protected her, and the families, investments.
"Yes, she does seem to have that gift." He sat for a moment, having a silent debate with himself. His eyes darted between my mangled hand and my eyes before he reached the answer he sought. "He's asked about you."
And there it was. The tears that I had been fighting back for weeks finally found the small fissure of defense I thought was so firmly in place. My lip started to quiver, my breathing became ragged, and the tears silently started to slide. I was sure I was nothing but a shaking mess for several minutes before I was able to speak. "Sure, he probably wants to know if the house has sold."
Carlisle reached for a tissue and gently wiped my tear-stained face. "No, sweetheart, he asked about you. How you were doing."
"Well, now you have something really great to tell him, don't you? Stupid Bella, sliced her hand open. Bet he'll tell you that he bought me a bagel cutter and I hated to use it and probably deserved this."
"Don't do this to yourself. He would never think that about you. While I can't understand or excuse my son's actions, I can assure you that he would never think anything terrible about you."
"Really? Well there's something new." I scoffed, not believing his words, no matter how honest they sounded.
"I've struggled to make sense of this. It doesn't make much sense to any of us."
"Bet Rosalie's happy."
"You would think that. But she isn't. Emmett had to rein her in those first few weeks. It wasn't helping the family, some of the things she was thinking. Now if she had been my daughter . . . "
I had to laugh through my tears. Carlisle always saw the good in people, but Rosalie was his challenge. I remembered clearly meeting her when Emmett announced they were getting married. It had been hard for Esme and Carlisle to see what it was that Emmett saw in her. When he admitted that Rose had been the one to save him from a near fatal spill while rock climbing, the family started to see her in a different light. It was still a sore spot for Carlisle, however, that she placed her vanity above much else, especially others emotions.
"Yeah, if only, huh?" I asked, thinking more to myself and the missed opportunity to become a member of the family I loved. The thought didn't slip by Carlisle. Not much did.
"You don't have to lose us too."
"If only it were that simple." I felt a fresh wave of tears cresting in my eyes.
"It can be. Of course it would be hard at first, but you know that Esme and I would love to have you back at the house, in our lives. We can make a 'No Edward' law when you come over, hmm?"
I offered a weak smile back. It was really the best I could do.
"Well, that's a start I suppose. Now then," his voice cleared and became louder, "about this hand. You'll need to take some pain medication with you. First few days will be the worst, then after that, take ibuprofen as needed for the pain. I'll need to check the stitches in a week and depending on how you're doing. We might be able to take them out in two weeks."
"O.K."
"I know your aversion to hospitals, so if you'd like to stop by the house . . . "
I had to cut him off. He was being far more kind than I was prepared for and I honestly didn't know how much more I could handle. "No, I can stomach coming in here. I'll be on the mend not needing more mending."
"Well, you just let me know. I can always stop by your house too." His smile was so warm and tender. I couldn't help the new emotion flowing through me. Loss. Great. Just when I thought I was over losing him and his family, Carlisle had opened the door for me to walk back through.
"Now, as far as tonight is concerned, you are going to need someone to stay with you. Once the local wears off, I can assure you, it won't feel pleasant. I can call Charlie if you like, or Esme . . . "
"No, I'm sure I'll be fine." I just wanted to get as far away from this man and his kindness as I could.
"I can assure you. You will not feel fine. For a start, the pain pills I've prescribed are very strong and you shouldn't be walking around, even to the bath room. We wouldn't want you to have a repeat visit tonight, would we?"
"I can stay with her," Jacob announced as he pushed his way past the curtain. It was obvious to me that he had heard every word of our conversation and for that, I was grateful. It was less for me to repeat later.
"Bella, is that agreeable to you?"
"Completely. I trust Jacob, always have."
"Fair enough. I'll get the release papers ready and you two should be on your way within the half hour." He stood up from the swivel chair he'd been seated in and stopped at the curtain. "You take it easy with that hand. Don't stress the stitches or you'll just be back in here sooner."
"In other words, try not to Bella for a while," I said, offering a bit more of my usual self than I had in a while. Maybe it was Jacob that brought it back out in me.
"I wouldn't say it quite that way, but I suppose the meaning is the same none the less. Take care, Bella."
"Thanks. You too, Dr. Cullen."
"Carlisle, please."
"Okay." That would take some getting use to, but it wasn't like I was planning on seeing him every week, not like I used to when I called him . . .
"It's not Dad, but . . . I guess it is the next best thing." He offered a small smile before leaving the exam room.
True to his word, Jacob and I were out of the hospital within a half hour. Medication in hand, Jacob drove me back to his house. I wasn't much in the mood for talking, spending time in the hospital, talking with Carlisle, and the fact that I could still smell the faint hint of blood on my hand left me with a killer headache.
Jacob pulled the car into the driveway, and walked around to open my door. He offered to carry me in the house, but I knew he was only doing that to get a rise out of me. Once inside, he made sure I was settled on the couch before heading to the kitchen to get a glass of water so I could take the first of my body numbing pills. I only wished it would have deadened my senses. I wondered if such a pill existed. One that could just remove all the hurt your body felt, both physical and mental and just let you live your life as if none of the pain had ever happened. If there was, I'd never be prescribed it. I was forced to live with this pain, for reasons I knew I would never understand or accept.
My hand started to throb and ache more than I would have thought, and it was becoming clear to me that local was in fact wearing off. Jacob had been busy in the kitchen cleaning since we got back. I was just about to make my first needy patient request when he came into the room carrying a glass of water and something on a plate.
"How's the hand?"
"In pain."
"I thought so. He thought it would start to wear off about now." He handed me the glass of water, placing the plate behind him.
"What's that?" I asked, motioning behind him.
"Well," he started, placing the plate next to me on the couch. "Since you didn't get a chance to eat before you blacked out, I thought you might want to finish what you started before that narcotic hit your body."
"My bagel? You brought it out to me?" I was shocked, almost grossed out that he thought to serve me the very same bagel I had been holding when I decided to carve myself instead.
"Give me some credit. It's a new one, free from any trauma. I didn't know what else to get you, and that was the last thing you were hungry for so . . . "
The full events hit me, remembering why I was fixing something fast to eat when he showed up, "Angela!"
"Already called her. Hope you don't mind, but I fished your cell phone out of your purse at the hospital. You mentioned her name when I walked in. She wants you to call her tomorrow and fill her in."
"If I can survive this pain tonight." I grimaced. It would be harder than I thought to muddle through the pain this time. It was really intense.
"You should. Dr. Cullen prescribed some pretty hard core pain pills. You're gonna need them too. Your hand looks like someone bit it."
"Nice image, Jake." I felt the uneasiness in my stomach rising.
"Hey, I'm not the klutz that can't handle a bread knife."
"I don't know what was worse, the whole hand thing or having him take care of me." I wanted to be honest; I'd always tried to be with Jacob. Even when the truth wasn't what he wanted to hear. I'd been honest.
"What can I do to help?" His question had a double meaning and I knew it. He wasn't just asking about my hand. He'd already helped enough with that. He was asking, without asking, about the elephant in the room.
I gave his question a lot of thought. There was one thing I needed, I craved, but I worried that it would send the wrong message to him. I had led him on once, and I promised myself I would never do it again. No, honesty was the best policy and I knew it. I had to explain why I needed it and take the chance he wouldn't help me. "I really need to just be held. It's been too long since someone touched me, let alone held me. I don't want you to think I'm using you, but God, it would make a world of difference right now."
"That's it? That's all you need?"
"Mmm hmm." I could feel the tears starting once again and I willed them to stop.
"Bells, you know I'd do anything for you. All you ever have to do is ask." He moved from the table to sit next to me. He leaned his back against the arm of the sofa, resting one leg, knee bent, against the couch back. He left his other foot on the floor and slowly pulled me to him. I rested my back against his chest and let my head fall back onto his shoulder. Once I was settled, he wrapped one arm around my shoulder, the other around my waist. I felt more calm than I had the past six months.
"I don't want to lead you on, Jake," I fought the tears again.
"I'm not 15 anymore, Bella," he said, resting his chin on my shoulder.
"I still feel terrible about that."
"You were 17. You had your reasons."
"Look where it got me," I could feel the tears slipping down my cheeks.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"And drag you into my misery?"
"You can't drag the willing," he pressed his head against my temple, a small sigh escaped him.
And the dam crumbled.
I was sure I had cried for over an hour, based on how puffy my eyes were, not to mention how raw they felt. When I finally spoke, Jacob listened completely which was so very different for him. He was always quick to point out Edward's faults and flaws. The most he offered now was a tighter hug, resting his head back on my shoulder or against my head. I recounted the past few years when everything seemed perfect and on track, through those horrible few minutes in the forest, and tried to be honest about the past six months. I cried again and was nearing another break down when the pain in my hand became too intense to ignore.
Wincing, I felt Jacob inhale sharply. "Shit, we forgot your medicine. Doc will kill me for sure."
"Well, at least we know I won't be taking it on an empty stomach," I offered.
"Yeah, I guess that helps. Here." He reached up to the sofa table behind the couch and pulled the pill bottle down. He opened it, handed me one pill, and exchanged it for the water glass. "Now, the doc said this pill would probably hit you hard the first few times you took it, might knock you out."
"Fair enough warning."
"I guess I should get you to bed." He started to get up, but I grabbed him with my good hand before he could move too far.
"Jake, can we just stay here tonight?"
"What? On the couch?" he questioned, as if unsure of my words. Either that or he didn't want to misunderstand what he understood me asking.
"Yeah, just like this." I sounded weak and I would have hated myself for it if I didn't need him to just hold me and keep me safe for one night from all the thoughts that tormented my sleep.
"You got it Bells. Can I just get a blanket for you?"
"Yeah, there's one on the chair and one across the rocker too. You might want that one. It's bigger."
"Let's just get you covered up. I'll see what I need once we get you taken care of."
In a few seconds he crossed the room, gathered both blankets, laid one across me making sure he tucked it under my chin and around my feet. He settled back behind me, as if he had never left. He reached behind him and turned the light off. Only the soft glow of light from the kitchen filtering in was visible. I wasn't used to sleeping with so little light on. I normally left the lamp on my night table lit or the left the t.v. playing so I didn't have to sleep in the dark or silence.
I turned my body slightly so I could rest the side of my head against Jacob's chest. He lowered his arms to circle my waist and I heard him sigh. It wasn't long before the pain pill kicked in and I was more tired than I could ever remember being.
"Jake?"
"Hmm?" He sounded like he was close to falling asleep.
"Thank you."
"I told you a long time ago that I'd always be here for you. Now get some rest."
"Kay. Good night."
"Night. Love you."
"Love you." For the first time in my relationship with Jacob, I didn't worry that my words would lead him on. If it was possible to have a friend be your soul mate, I knew Jacob was mine.
For the first time in six months, I didn't dream.
Chapter End Notes:
Thanks for reading! I hope you you hang in there with this one.