25. Reminisce

BELLA'S POV

I peered round the corner of her door.

Renesmee had been acting really off. At everything somebody said, or every noise, she twitched away from the sound. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, but she seemed to be something else than the boring football match.

I was really worried.

What could possibly force this reaction out of her? Was she feeling sick?

Seeing her now only enhanced my concern.

She was curled up in a tight ball, hugging the blanket to her chest. Her eyes were squeezed closed so tight it must be hurting her. Her skin that had seemed to become paler and paler over the last few days was now scarily white. Prehaps even whiter than mine.

There were black bags under her eyes that suggested she hadn't slept in a long time. She looked like she was sick.

When she saw me looking at her she gave me a small smile, that didn't exactly reassure me. It was much to forced.

Whenever she kept a neautral expression it was near impossible to tell how she was feeling or what she was thinking. But when she pretended to feel something that she wasn't, she was like an open book.

I walked over slowly to her bed.

"You were acting really strangely tonight. What's wrong?" I asked her, coming to sit on her bed.

She seemed to think this through for a while.

"Jacob." She said.

I nodded.

Of course.

How could I be so stupid!

She must be so confused. All her feelings for Jacob must be really overwhelming. She couldn't know what to feel about him. I can't bear to think about how complicated it must seem to her.

She was only three years old and she had to deal with her and her family being in mortal (well, sort of) danger. And on top of it all her best friend had suddenly been shown in a different light.

I didn't want to think how she would feel if she knew that me and Edward had been arguing.

Thinking that gave me a small pain at the bottom of my stomach.

I quickly put it out of my mind and tried to think what to say next.

"You know whatever happens with him and you, I will always support you." I began, "Between you and Jacob," I tried to think of a way to phrase what I meant. I settled on "things will happen." She seemed to take this in, not seeming surprised, "But your must never, ever feel like it's wrong. Do you promise?" I asked.

She looked down at her bed, and for a second I was scared that she would say 'I can't promise that' or just 'no'.

She seemed to contemplate this, and eventually she took a deep breath.

"I promise," she said, giving another of those painful smiles.

I gave her a quick hug, and went out of the room.

When I had stepped out, an odd thought struck me.

Without Edward I simply had no idea what I should do.

Without Edward, the words echoed in my head. No, I wasn't without Edward. We had just had a small fight.

Though we never sleep, night is sort of a 'resting time'. It is much less active, even though the idea of our bodies needing 'rest' or 'peace and quiet' was not far from ludicrous.

I walked into my room, not really sure what I would do there.

I thought that maybe now might be a good time to look through the clothes that Alice had bought me what seemed like only three seconds ago. It couldn't be three years.

I opened the huge doors and faced a task that was very simple, yet would probably take an hour, even with my super-speed.

It wasn't too hard to decide.

In endless bags with names like 'Prada' 'Gucci' (that Alice was constantly telling me to pronounce 'Goo-chee', not 'gucky') 'Armani' 'Ralph Lauren 'Channel ' 'Balmain' 'Burberry' and 'Balenciaga', It was near impossible to find anything not to throw out.

In the end I was left two plain white t-shirts, a lovely blue blouse, a pair of jeans and a short creamy-beige skirt.

When I was looking at the back of the huge – now pretty much empty – room, I found a brown box. It was hidden under a hot pink cocktail dress, but part of it's corner was showing.

I bought it out and carefully placed it on the bed.

What would be in here? It couldn't be shoes, Alice had them all piled up in a huge box, and I suspected that she had another box somewhere, full of spares.
Gently, I took off he lid.

Inside there was a picture of a teenage girl. She had long brown hair, and pale pink skin. She could have looked normal, apart from her eyes.

In them was such glorious happiness you could hardly look away. They practically set her normal-looking self on fire. Even from this slightly faded picture, it was blinding.

She was wearing a beautiful white dress, with a flower-like pattern around her sleeves. It trailed gracefully on the ground.

Next to her was the most beautiful man in the world.

Even she was nothing next to him. Every single feature of his looked like a masterpiece carved by angels. You could have easily mistaken him for being a marble statue, exept he had the same expression that made it clear he was in complete ecstasy.

It was us on our wedding day.

More memories flooded into my head.

A van was coming towards me at a blinding speed.

I closed my eyes, knowing that it was hopeless to even attemot to move.

Cold hands grabbed me. They were too cold.

And another.

His perfect was face was calm, his eyes closed shut.

His body was shinning with the light of a million fireflies, even though in this meadow it was one of the brightest days Forks had ever seen.

My heart raced as I said the final words that would forever seal my fate.

"I do,"

I knew now that it was just a fight. I had thought – rather ignorantly – that him and Jacob had put their differences behind them and tried to be friends. Of course, I had been wrong.

They may be able to co exist, but they could never be friends. Edward would always disgust Jacob, and Edward would always be prejudice against Jacob. They could exist peacefully, but the tension would always be there.

Nessie finding out about the imprint had been the final straw.

How could Edward want his daughter to be with the man who had once loved his wife? It was against pretty much everything he believed in.

Of course, it didn't mean that he loved our daughter any less. Of course not. It just meant that his hate for Jacob was strong enough that he didn't quite realize that he would rather have his daughter happy than her best friend gone, and never allowed to see her again.

It was just a fight. Nothing big.

How could we make it seem serious as we had?

For a few hours, I thought how I could apologize. I didn't really want to apologize. I had been right in most of the things I had said – even if I did exaggerate a bit -, he had been stubborn.

He just hadn't wanted to admit that his love for his daughter was stronger than his hate for his natural enemy.

I heard the rushing sound of the wind warping around a speeding vampire approaching the cottage. I almost smiled. That would be Edward.

I would say that I was sorry, and he would apologize and everything would go back to normal. Apart from the coming fight, but even that seemed less important than me fighting with Edward.

Imagine that. I fight that would decide the fate of the vampire race seemed more trivial compared to me having a fight with my husband.

The front door creaked open. I waited.

He didn't open the door.

Of course, I thought to myself, just because you are ready to make up, it dosen't mean that he is. He's probably still angry at you.

I was determined that we would put this behind us.

But was he?