Chapter Twenty-One: The Blessing
I'm in love with Jacob Black.
Even thinking it was too much. I felt like I'd been walking miles on some kind of epic journey, only to open my eyes and find I'd been on a treadmill the whole time. Maybe I'd always been in love with Jacob, maybe I'd merely been too blind to see it before, maybe I wasn't mature enough to see it until now, maybe I wasn't mature enough to fully grasp Jacob's feelings for me until now. All I knew for certain was that the minute he vowed to move heaven and earth to make sure I had a choice in this crazy conundrum we were in, I knew he really understood me, really saw me, really loved me. He was a strong, kind, loving man. He was my strong, kind, loving man. He was everything I could ever want, ever need.
It was like his heart sent out an electronic pulse and mine answered it. (Yep, just like Mom said, but much more complex and simple at the same time.) It was like finally coming home after being away for years. It was fate and destiny and so much more wrapped up into one.
It was weird to admit it, but Jacob was right. Falling in love isn't always a thunderclap or a jolt of lightning. Sometimes, love just slowly ushers its way into your heart, softly and tenderly. That was what it was like to love Jacob. Loving him was a relief, a comfort, a blessing, and a wonder, all in one. Honestly, I'd never been happier in my life.
I'd also never been more frightened.
Yep, even staring down death at the hands of Constantine wasn't as scary as right now was. (Note: True love ain't for sissies.)
"Are you all right?" Jacob asked, reaching out to touch my shoulder.
I shrugged him off as I shot to my feet. Just because I acknowledged my feelings didn't mean I was ready to confess them. I was in love with Jacob. I really loved him, but couldn't say it out loud yet. Once those three, little words left my mouth, there'd be no going back. I'd be fully into this, my future would be decided, and the imprinting would own me. I wasn't ready to surrender to any of that because I wasn't sure what I'd be losing in the process. My dreams? My identity? My free will? Even though I knew Jake would fight tooth and nail to make sure I had a choice, I wasn't sure if my giving in to all of this would somehow change that. After all, the imprinting would rule both of us completely. Wouldn't it? I knew Jacob had said it didn't control us, but I also remembered how my desire had completely taken me over. That felt like control, and it was the imprinting's fault. I knew it. It had to be. Right?
I wasn't sure anymore. I needed to figure this out on my own. I needed time to come to terms with it.
"I should go back to the house," I said, not meeting Jake's gaze. (If I look him in the eye, he's going to know I love him and I'm toast.) I walked toward the front door before turning back toward him. "The family will be out here to check on us soon. I'm surprised they even let me come up with you."
As he stood, I noticed that the blanket around his waist was riding dangerously low on his hips. I began an intense study of my shoes. Now was not the time for distractions.
"They know we belong together. They've always known it. They're respecting our privacy, darlin'."
I ignored the shiver of pleasure his new endearment gave me. "Jacob, you just threw me over your shoulder and carried me to your apartment. . . naked. Even in this family, there's only going to be so long before they interrupt. The only reason they haven't come up here yet is they've probably been outside listening to the whole thing." The mere idea of that made me blanch. Nope, not thinking about that, I told myself. I had enough to deal with.
"Nessie, what's wrong? I can feel your fear. You were fine a few minutes ago and now you're freaking out over something. What is it?"
Dang you, connection! This imprinting thing was becoming more irritating by the hour. Pretty soon, privacy was going to be an unattainable dream. (With my family, it's already pretty hard to come by.)
"I'm fine," I assured him as I opened the door. "I'll just run inside to let everyone know I'm OK." I stepped outside and began to pull the door closed behind me.
"I'll go with you," he said, walking toward me.
I stopped, my eyes finally shooting up to meet his. "No." It came out a little more abrupt than I intended.
He looked at me, hurt and annoyed. "And why is that?" He edged closer.
I needed to get away from him. Now. I was two seconds from blurting everything out, kissing him, and forgetting all about the consequences and the imprinting. So,I went for the obvious just to shut him up. "You're still naked, remember?"
Before he could reply, I pulled the door closed behind me and scurried down the stairs. I'd deal with Jacob later, after I got this impossible situation resolved. If it's even possible to resolve. Right now, everything seemed hopeless and unbearable.
The yard was empty. Even from the garage, I could hear the din of voices coming from my family inside the house. There was a football game on. I could hear Emmett groan in response to some team scoring a point. I could smell roast beef, mashed potatoes, green beans, and—unless I missed my guess—Rosalie's homemade honey butter biscuits.
Esme, Rosalie, and Alice appreciated having humans here as it meant they could utilize their underused culinary skills. Rosalie and Esme had greatly enjoyed cooking when they'd been human and loved how modern kitchen inventions now made once difficult or time-consuming tasks easier.Alice, on the other hand, was the type who couldn't resist the fun of a good challenge. The mission of making food mouthwatering for someone when you couldn't taste it yourself was tricky enough to tempt her. (Think about how much you need to taste food as you are cooking it and you'll get what I'm talking about.)
As I usually prefer to ingest blood over eating food, they don't do much cooking for me. (But, they've still taught me a couple of culinary tricks of the trade. For example, I can make a mean chocolate croissant.) Charlie's visits usually became a catalyst for an epic cook-off where the three women tried to outdo each other to see who could make the most delectable dish. Charlie, as the head judge in this endeavor, always complained that he gained twenty pounds by the end of every visit, but it was easy to see that he still loved every minute of it. I could already imagine the copious banquet that was going to be on our table tomorrow for Thanksgiving.
I walked closer to the front porch, trying to prepare myself for when I saw everyone. To mask my fear of the imprinting, I concentrated on the near-death attack earlier. The last thing I needed was Jasper, Dad, or any of the rest of them picking up on my feelings for Jacob and my issues with our connection right now. I didn't want to talk about this with any of them. I wanted to come to terms with it myself.
"Nessie."
My body tightened. I softly cursed my screwed up instincts for failing me once again. How could I not have sensed him sitting there on the porch swing? How could I not have considered that he would be waiting for me? The outside lights on the roof of the house had blinded me slightly, casting the porch completely in shadow. But, still, I should have known he was there.
"Hi, Dad," I said, stepping up onto the porch.
I could see him easily now. His lanky body was indolently resting on the wide wooden swing suspended by chains on our porch. He got up in one, smooth motion, hardly disturbing the swing at all. I'd always been amazed and envious at his effortless grace. It was a vampiric attribute I didn't share.
"I've been waiting for you."
"Thanks for letting me and Jake talk uninterrupted. We needed to iron some things out. I know it couldn't have been easy for you—especially with Jake tossing me over his shoulder like that." (I figured it was better not to mention the nakedness.)
He stared out over the white porch railing and out into the night. "You're right, but, as your mother has reminded me a lot over these last few months, I would have done much the same thing once upon a time. Men in love aren't the most rational of beings."
"Yes." I didn't know what else to say. I wasn't sure where this was going.
"Of course," he said, letting out a heavy breath, "women in love aren't much better."
My eyes caught his. He knows. I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. "Dad—"
"It's OK. We don't have to talk about it right now. I know you still have a lot you need to work out in your head. I just wanted you to know that I accept it. I accept him. Jacob's always been a good man, even when he was vying for your mother I had to acknowledge that. It's always been obvious to anyone with eyes how much he adores you. Now, that adoration has become everything I could ever dream of having for my daughter. Jacob deserves you, and I won't try to interfere anymore. I wanted you to know that."
I was overwhelmed. Dad was trying to help by giving me this blessing, but it was only making things worse. My feelings for Jacob were as much a part of me as my legs or skin, but I'd still managed to keep the pull of the imprinting at bay. My father's words were causing me to lose ground on that score rapidly. I felt like I was being catapulted into my destiny whether I wanted to go or not. Panic abounded.
Dad walked over to me, taking me in his arms. Lightly kissing my forehead, he swayed us slightly back and forth, almost like we were dancing. I slipped my arms around his waist, buried my face in his chest, and held on for dear life. Everything I'd been holding inside let go. All the fear, the worry, the panic—all of it. Tears came. I let them. Dad said nothing as he held me. He just rubbed his hand reassuringly against my back.
I wept until there were no more tears left. I cried because I'd almost died; I cried because I had such a wonderful, understanding family who would die for me in an instant's notice; I cried because I had the love of a man I, most times, wasn't worthy of; I cried because I was surrounded by people who patiently let me figure things out on my own; I cried because I loved Jacob, but I was too much of a coward to tell him; I cried because a stupid imprinting was making my life a living hell; and I cried because there was nothing I could do about it right now but cry.
Dad remained silent as I soaked his shirt in tears. When I was done, I kept my wet face against his chest, so tired I could sleep for weeks. The scent of him, so pleasantly sweet, was an innate comfort to me. His arms around me, the slight rocking of our bodies, his hand patting my hair, all were things I desperately needed.
I sighed. Strangely enough, no matter my exhaustion, my abundance of emotions, or the flood of tears, I began to feel better. Everything suddenly seemed less threatening, less overwhelming. I was strengthened, rejuvenated, and reassured. My problems were still there, waiting for me to step away from my father. But, right here, right now, they couldn't touch me.
We stood there for a long time before I finally pulled away, using the back of my hands to wipe away the traces of my tears.
"We should go inside," I said.
He nodded, not moving toward the door. He watched me dry my face, his eyes never leaving mine. His expression was intense and firm. "You're going to have to tell Jacob the truth, Nessie. He's the only one who can truly help you with the imprinting. But, you have to tell him you love him first. He deserves to know."
I opened my mouth to argue with him, to explain all my reasons why holding off was a better option, but I couldn't make myself form the words. Dad was right. I knew it. Jacob deserved to know.
"I will tell him," I finally answered. "Soon."
And I would.
Soon.