queenB mentioned that I should do a chapter in Jacob's point of view but I have to apologize and say that I'm saving that for something special in the end. This goes to Lolita as well, I'm portraying Jacob in a very complex manner here and I promise it will lead up to something important and surprising. So sorry but no Jacob pov's for just a little while. And bare with me. The next few chapters are going to be confusing and disturbing but there's a point in all of this and it will all come out. This is going to be back in Bella's point of view now.
If he didn't love me so much I'd think he hated me. Is the smell so pungent that my nearness makes him nausous? Or is it still his guilt that makes him so distant? I'm uncertain and too afraid to ask. What if he doesn't love me anymore?
"Do you have to go out today?" I ask as place my dish on the island, slowly moving from table to kitchen. "I'm sure Sam will understand."
Jacob takes up the brunt of the cleaning. He sorts out the hardly touched dinner into left overs into containers, something he hasn't done since the very beginning, and puts the dishes into the dishwasher. His actions are quick and the medicine leaves me sick and dizzy. I press my hand against the counter and close my eyes as he answers, "I'd still have to go out and tell them that I can't stay."
The edges are my grip get fuzzy and suddenly I'm afraid of the things that come out of my mouth, "Can't you just shift out here...and send them a mental message or something?"
"No," he snips at me but I don't care. I'm hurt. He hurt me. Why doesn't he want to stay with me?
"Do you want me to take another shower? Is that it? Do you want me to sit out in the snow and wash myself with tomatoes? Would that make you love me?" I mutter this under my breath as I pass the rag over the table. I intend the words to install guilt or anger or anything other than this unfeeling Jacob that is in my presence.
"What are you trying to say?"
There it is. The edge. The sharpness. The something. I'm warm again but somehow my medicine has disturbed me and the fear I should be feeling has turned into joy. I'm getting his attention now. That's all I want, "You know what I'm trying to say. I just want...I just wa-"
His hand slams down on top of mine, stopping it's motion. He doesn't hurt my hand as much as he paralyzes it. I'm trapped again in his claws and he hisses in my ear, "What? What do you want, Bella? What do you want that I can't give you?"
"Your attention," I don't inch away from him like I normally would. Some how the medication that waves away pain has done the same to my weakness. Slowly I turn my face toward his-not yet meeting his eyes, no I haven't gotten that brave-and I continue in the same tone, "I just want you to be with me, Jacob. I just want you to be here with me."
"I. CAN'T. DO. THAT."
"WHY? Jacob? Can you explain that to me? Why can't you do that? I'm your WIFE," I emphasis my last word as I snatch my hand from his shaking trap. I continue to move the rag in rough circles on the table, "You think you'd want to stay here. Take care of me. You'd think you would want to make sure I didn't get hurt."
"Are you threatening me, Bella?"
"No," I turn my head to look at him and he has the same dark look as he had before. Where does my Jacob go when this man comes out to play? Tears fall from the corners of my eyes as I slowly start to feel panic, "I miss you. Okay? I just want your company. I'll take another shower. We don't have enough money and it was your idea. You know Carlisle didn't ch-"
"DON'T SAY THAT NAME!" he's shaking again but I can't understand why. Doesn't he love me anymore? I start to cry real tears this time because I'm afraid the answer is no.
"WHY? WHAT'S WRONG WITH CARLISLE! IT'S NOT THE SAME! HE ISN'T EDWAR-"
The blow comes to my face before I can prepare for it. I'm on the ground, on top of my shoulder, and although I took more than the recommended amount the pain still hits me like a silver volvo. Can't anyone here my screams? Can't anyone hear my cries? Doesn't anyone know what he's doing to me?
All I can manage is a weak whimper, "What did I do to you? What did I do wrong?"
"Don't. Say that name in this house. In my house. Don't you eversay that name," his voice terrifies me and I can do nothing but comply. The voice isn't his own. The voice is an abnormality. The voice is dangerous to my well-being. The voice doesn't belong to the man I married.
"F-Fine, fine. You win," I whisper with my eye swollen closed. I wish for icey hands to cool the burning that is left on my face. I ache for something that can stop this, "You win, Jacob."
"I'm leaving," he begins to walk past me and up-side-down I catch the glimpse of tears soaking his face. I know I can't stay here. I need someone to help me. I can't be here when he returns.
"Okay," I whisper as I shut my eyes tight and wait for the door to close. I have to leave. I need someone that can help me, "Okay."