Chapter 26 - Words

Edward was sitting on a chair in the cottage's living room, staring at the fire, when I came back from putting Nessie to bed. I had thought there was something wrong all afternoon - I could hear a frustration in his voice even then, but now he was no longer trying to hide it.

"So why exactly were you having secret liaisons with werewolves in the woods, Bella?" he spat at me. "How could you be so foolish when we have a spy living with us? Do you really not think of the implication of your actions at all before you proceed?"

"Edward, I was only playing ball with them, it really was no big deal. I can't see why you are so cross about this."

His voice became very quiet. "I'm cross because you appear to be spoon-feeding Demetri with all the information that he needs to bring our family down. He has spent the afternoon thinking about what he learned this morning. That Alice can't see the wolves, and that the wolves are fragile when in human form, and that Jacob is particularly attached to Nessie. A good crop of information don't you think.

"I'm sure that Aro will be most interested to hear his report when he returns.

"He is such a smooth operator, Demetri, you mustn't underestimate him. We have to assume that whatever he is doing, he is doing for Aro's agenda, not ours. He flatters us and goes out of his way to be interested in us and tries to make friends with us, but it's not for our benefit. He is doing it to learn how best to defeat us. I thought that I wouldn't have to explain this to you, that you would have understood. I forget that you are still just a child."

I felt hurt to the core. My husband, my Edward, had just called me a child. So that is how he thought of me - a useless child. Worse than useless, dangerously self-centered. I couldn't reply. I just stared at him wanting the words to not have been said, to close the huge gulf that had opened between us, and for us to be close again. But I couldn't see how I could even cross the gulf, never mind close it.

I took one of my books from the shelf and left the room. I was too shocked to think how to talk to Edward right now. I needed to be away from him. I went and sat on our bed. I wanted to be near Nessie but I thought that I might disturb her and I didn't want her to see me this upset.

I opened the book but the words were swimming round in a blurry pattern on the page. I had difficulty focusing on them, I couldn't make out the lines. I tried hard, very hard to quell the sobs before they started. I tried to take deep calming breaths but it didn't help. Within a few seconds my breath was coming in ragged pulls and I was unable to hold the book. I let it drop to the floor. The tears flowed down my cheeks on to my shirt. I sat on the bed, my head in my hands, crying like a human.

I'm not sure how long I cried for. Being vampire means that one doesn't tire, not of running, not of kissing, and so it seemed not even of crying. Part way through my sobbing, I tried to rationalize how I was crying. I'd thought that vampires couldn't cry, that they didn't have the physical capability to cry. Obviously I'd been wrong. It wasn't that vampires couldn't cry, it was just that they were more in control and didn't cry. I was just a really useless vampire, a child, as Edward had said, unable to understand what was going on and to have any kind of handle on my emotions. I was glad he didn't come in to see me. I didn't want him to see me like this, to prove to him what a failure I was. This thought only added to my worries and prolonged the upset. In the end, my throat felt so dry that I needed to quench my thirst.

I rose from the bed, hastily changed my clothes, and did what I could with my hair and face to make myself look respectable. I marched the few steps back into the sitting room. Edward hadn't moved, he didn't look up as I entered the room.

"I'm thirsty, I'm going to hunt," I said quietly and l left the house walking slowly into the cold gray light of dawn.

After taking down a couple of small deer my throat felt more comfortable, the burning had gone, but the rest of me was no better. I longed for the simple reassurances that I used to get when I was human. The feeling of being at home with Renée. I'd always felt confident then, always had faith in myself, but now … now I wanted that feeling again but I couldn't have it. But I could do the thing we always did at night to put the day in perspective. I could sit with a cup of hot chocolate in my hands. Obviously I wouldn't want to drink it, just hold the cup and feel the heat. I felt chilled, even after the warm blood of the deer.

I knew it was wasteful and silly to make a drink that I couldn't drink but I went up to the main house and in by the kitchen door. No one was about. I guessed that some were in their rooms, Carlisle in his study, and some out hunting. I listened hard. I could hear very quiet music coming from one of the rooms upstairs. It sounded like Jasper's taste, he preferred gentle ballads by female singers. As quietly as I could I filled the kettle and put it to boil, found the hot chocolate powder and a mug. Just these familiar acts were a kind of a therapy. I'd not done this for six months and it felt like coming home after a long trip.

I made the chocolate and settled into one of the bar stools next to the kitchen counter to hold my drink, and try to make some sense of the situation.

Suddenly Jasper was next to me.

Author's Note

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