Chapter 8: Present Day

Some people say that when you are dying, you head slowly toward a blinding white light while your life flashes before your eyes – all the good that you've accomplished for yourself and others, all the mistakes and wrongs that you've dealt. Before you know it the white light becomes brighter and brighter until it pulls you in…and you're gone.

My head felt clouded, my vision was hazy, but I knew I wasn't dying; I did not see a blinding light, only the misty rain and the clouds that infinitely covered the sky, lit bright white by the sun that shone so deep behind it, the rays had no hopes of peaking through.

While I watched the black rental car drive away, however, I did see my life flash before my eyes. Not the life I've lived so far, but the life I chose to leave behind.

I saw the good – I envisioned a blissful eternity next to Edward. I thought about his voice, his touch, his melodic voice whispering in my ear. The tales he could tell me and the experiences we would share mutually. I imagined living alongside him and his family, following him to the ends of the earth and wherever our forever would lead us. It was simple, subdued, perpetual…devoted.

And I saw the bad – A life I had chosen next to those who also loved me; but somehow, the love seemed incomplete, restricted. Often times we fail to feel why, even when you feel happy, there is still a gap in the puzzle. More times than not we realize, in due time, that the love we experience seems to be conditional. Jacob's love was conditional – I knew this all along. My parents, maybe even. There was just a point where, if I were ever gone, they would move on.

At that moment I realized that I was…here. Stuck. After four years, I hadn't moved anywhere. Although my life had taken me physically out of this place, the memories, the moments that defined me were still here. The mind I had educated served to guide me, and yet in so many ways, I continued to feel seventeen; and I recognized that, even through my best attempts, my heart had inevitably remained unconditionally with Edward.

Although I had been holding it all along, I finally felt the light weight of the envelope still clasped in my hands. It was not thick, just firm. Without hesitation, I opened the small brackets, pulled the flap back and slipped in the contents into my hand.

I held an airline voucher for one with destination to London, England. Along with it, a small piece of stationary paper, folded in half. Scribbled inside was a street address.

I'm asking you to be happy, she had said.

But I'm happy now. Conditionally, that is; but I had simply abandoned my chance so long ago, it seemed almost greedy to backtrack now.

I'm asking you to be happy.

Rosalie had handed me the opportunity, now it was up to me to make the choice.

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There were few things better than hanging out with your pack: running out in the seemingly endless forest with the wind in your face on all fours. More than anything, it was a liberating feeling, an exhilarating rush that I had given up for way too long. It wasn't everyday that I phased anymore – it would call more than a little bit of attention in the middle of metropolis.

The pack had the idea of taking the day to just run. I was hoping this wasn't their idea of a bachelor party. There was no way Leah was getting away with tagging along to that.

One of the few things that beat it all out – food.

As soon as Emily was able to get a hold of Sam, we raced over to Charlie's. Emily told him Renee and her had put out a spread because they knew we would be hungry and were waiting on us to get rid of it all. We didn't waste time in taking her word for it and made a mad dash to the house. When I arrived, while others were speeding toward the kitchen, I was headed upstairs to pay a visit to my fiancée. I'd heard she had been slaving all day over floral arrangements with Emily and my sisters over the phone, and supposedly still didn't have enough patience to make a decision.

I knocked on the almost closed door of her old room and creaked it open. Instead of expecting to see her stressing over shrubbery, she was packing a small bag stationed on the bed.

"Bells?" I asked, a little confused, but still happy to see her.

"Hey…Jake…" she answered slowly, almost a whisper. I knew just by how Bella said my name that she didn't sound herself at all and only glanced to give me a quick look over her lashes.

"What going on?" I was wondering what day it was, even doubting myself and trying to think if the guys and I had actually been gone more than just a couple of hours. "Why are you packing? We still have about 5 days before we head out to San Diego…"

"Um…I have a little bit of an issue," she spoke a little louder this time, as if trying to build confidence. "You know Sophie…the assistant at the publishing house? She called…our editor is on vacation, and well, they called me to see if I can take care of some manuscripts for her,"

What?

Bella had to be joking. Except she looked dead serious as she packed the last of some toiletries before zipping up the luggage.

"Well, you're on vacation – I'm guessing that doesn't matter," I said to her. It sometimes blew my mind how she was so incredibly rigid for certain things, and so ridiculously accommodating for everything else.

"I'm a recently hired assistant editor--" she started, but I didn't let her finish.

"So you're not available. I'm sure they can call someone else," I replied. It was honestly irritated that she would ditch our surprise visit home…for work. I brushed her cheek. The color seemed to be gone from her face.

"Jake, please…I'm sorry, but I promised…" Bella said as she met my eyes only to dart them away again quickly. She didn't linger at the touch of my hand like she usually did.

"Everyone is going to be really bummed out," I said, trying to push further. This was a new job – her first straight out of college. I'm sure she was just trying to do her best, impress with her impeccable flexibility. If it was really that important to her, I was going to show her that I understood. What kind of husband was I going to be to her if I didn't?

"I know, but," she took a second to pause. She looked at me again, and somehow I felt like there was too much weight behind her words. "I had to make a choice…"

The night seemed to be too long and less eventful than I had expected it to be. Bella didn't say much of anything else the rest of the night – during dinner she ate less than usual, barely touching her food. Afterward when we gathered with everyone to watch a movie, although she was laying on my chest and looking straight at the screen, her mind seemed to be somewhere else. I asked her questions every once in a while and took time to repeat myself when she didn't hear me.

The next morning, she insisted on taking a cab to the airport even when Charlie and I offered to take her ourselves; she mentioned she didn't want to bother us to drive her all the way to Sea-Taq when she could just take a taxi.

As I kissed her goodbye and watched her get into the car, I felt the need to shake the feeling that came to me that something wasn't right.

It's in your head, Jake - you're being stupid, I thought to myself.

I realized as the car began to drive forward that her stare seemed distant and worried, as if she was in on the bad news and I was still waiting to hear the punch line.