I don't even think I have much else to say to Leah as of now. With the news about Bella and Paul, I can only wonder who the fuck else has been the same places I have.

There was Bella, Paul, Sam, and myself… who else? Quil? Embry? Shit, maybe even Rachel if she wanted to fuck with me.

I smile everything off for the rest of the night even as I watch Paul tempt Doll with a game of football in the backyard. I fake just about everything as Leah finally comes outside and lays with me on the lawn chair, whispering in my ear and rubbing my never-full stomach as I sip on a beer. Her hazel eyes have never seemed so deceiving as her smile is genuine but tricky.

She's not a hoe by any means but Sam, Paul, and Bella?! Now that I know she's capable of cheating, where does that leave my trust? How the fuck do I know if she's sucking someone else off while I'm at work and fakes this perfect wife act when I get home?

I sip my beer.

She's not that girl, she's not that girl, she's my girl. She's Leah. She's perfect. She's beautiful. She's a liar. She cheated on me. I'd be a hypocrite not to forgive her, but now I know how it feels with the shoe on the other foot. It hurts. It's emasculating. My confidence is at a low because she (my eyes begin burning)… she actually cheated. She went behind my back. And with Bella? The chick whose pants I wanted to get into at some point? Not to mention that she's a fucking girl, either. Is there something Leah needs to get off her chest besides her bra?

I take my last sip before setting the bottle on the top of the cooler beside me. Leah rubs my tummy some more and rubs her face on my t-shirt.

Maybe I shouldn't be upset about Paul. She said it was before me so what's there to be angry about?

I glance at him poke fun at Doll because she missed a play, and she brushes her hands under her chin and flashes them his way to say fuck you.

It's kinda funny how the only thing to make me less angry about stuff is the reason I'm angry in the first place. I look down at Leah and she's humming to herself. My fingers brushing in between her delicate strands of flat-ironed hair are the same ones that want to yank at those strands and lead her against a wall for a heated confrontation. I'm afraid I'll take it too far, though; I think I've hit my limit of hurting her.

Oh, why did Nessie have to show me that? How did she, actually? I would've been perfectly fine living in complete oblivion and continuing to think Leah was the perfect wife instead of a sex hungry, bi-curious, little minx of a woman. Oh, she'll screw Paul and finger-bang Bella, but it's a goddamn crime to jerk off her husband?

I shut my eyes to avoid them watering. Leah Anna Black is not about to make me cry.

I re-open them and take my hands from her hair because I think I'm ten seconds away from snatching.

She moans in protest and puts my hand back. "I love when you play in my hair," she purrs, so I continue scratching.

To distract myself, I direct my attention to Nessie and Seth. The two share a lawn chair as well while playing with the twins in their laps. Their smiles are genuine. Seth's obsessive possession over her has diminished to simple worry, and the frown she used to have around him is now a small grin.

The two months Nessie's been back have been great healing time. Her scars and scratches are fading, matching Leah's. I give props to how strong and mature she's been through all this, especially when deciding whether or not she wanted to keep the child. She told Carlisle she did because getting the A-word would've made it hard to sleep at night. Even though he's not the biological father, I think Seth'll be a great dad—it'll give him a little growing up to do.

It's sad that Nahuel is still out there searching for her, but I'd smile, too, if I had a whole vampire coven and a pack of wolves protecting me.

I'm suddenly knocked out my daze when Bella's voice interrupts my thoughts. "Do you mind if I steal her for a minute?"

The bloodsucker smirks sexily as Leah hops up off my chest with quickness and a big old smile.

"She's all yours," I mumble, even though I'm pretty sure they don't hear me. The two of them lock fingers and lead each other inside.

I wait until they're out of earshot to whisper cuss words under my breath. Shit, if I could phase, Bella would get the fucking worst of it.

Bella, that little fucking—

Shit, I need to calm down. All I need are details and then maybe I can sleep better at night. I wanna ask Nessie, but that's childish. When and how should I confront Leah? Before or after the move? I guess before would be good, so no drama folds over into Silverdale. Tonight, maybe? I need to get this off my chest because it's really starting to fuck me up.

We'll just see how the rest of the evening goes.

A few games of football, a couple beers, and a talk with my dad later, I'm ready to go home. It's nine-something at night and the munchkins are as tired as am I.

Finding Leah is the only trouble but I eventually find her when she and Bella skip down the stairs like best friends from doing God knows what. Bella kisses Leah goodbye on the cheek, and I wanna smack her lips off her stone face. My body language should say don't touch my fucking woman.

On the ride home, I have to resist stopping the Rabbit to a screeching halt when Leah persists to tell me of her and Bella's conversation. I pay little attention, but every time she says her name, I growl and nod past the pain. My grip on the wheel has dented the leather by the time I pull into the garage.

"Babe, aren't ya coming?" she asks when I haven't unbuckled my seatbelt. Doll, Teigan, and Jacob have already begun making their way to the garage door that leads into the basement.

I nod and look over at her.

"Yeah, I'll be up in a minute. Just wanna listen to the radio a bit," I tell her, and she shrugs it off as she hops giddily over to my window to kiss my cheek.

"Be up soon," she warns me, and follows after the munchkins through the basement.

I wait a while before switching to the hip-hop channel, turning up the volume, and rolling down all the windows. I unbuckle myself to get out and shut and lock the garage door along with the basement door so there are no disturbances or interruptions. Once the mood is set and the lights are dim enough, I remove my shirt for a sense of self-familiarization and freedom. When I feel comfortable, I unlock the safe next to the mini fridge with its code—Leah's birthday—and open up to the smell of Quil's kush. This stash has been down here a good few months. I bought it way back when the twin's began walking and Nessie came back. I've been waiting for a good time to smoke it, but now seems as good as any.

I flatten out the paper and sprinkle the plant along the length of it before rolling it up, licking it, and inspecting it… Perfect. Upon lighting it, I shiver in delight as I take a nice whiff in.

"Shit," I mutter. Leah and I have always agreed to not smoke in the house, but fuck it. I need this. It's been two years and I'm a grown man.

I lay on the Rabbit's hood and puff away, letting my mind be set free and my nerves be put off their edge. The music has more clarity and bass, so I begin rapping along, and even though I can't hear myself, I'm confident I've got the right lyrics.

Half an hour in, the high thoughts start.

Like, is Leah really a lesbian? Did she make the switch because the heartbreak she experienced with Sam was too much too bear and she figured a female would treat her better?

Did she fuck Paul to ensure she had her fill of dick before she faced a life of vaginas?

Maybe before me, she went around screwing my sisters and Kim and then I came along and changed her mind?

She dated me for a year, I got her pregnant, she left, came back, we got married, and had a couple more babies—maybe the pressure got to her. She panicked and went to Bella for a release? Maybe that's fucking why we went on that celibacy shit? That explains everything!

I laugh aloud and put the blunt back between my lips.

Maybe she only married me for the satisfaction of kids.

I exhale and watch the smoke evaporate in the space between my lips and the open air. Leah's not a fucking lesbian and I'm just an idiot.

There has to be a reason as to why Paul hasn't said a word. Paul's the most braggadocios motherfucker anybody knows, so as to why he wouldn't tell all of Washington he got the sexiest chick in La Push into his bed is a mystery. Maybe they decided to keep it as an embarrassing secret. If that's the case, how does Sue know? Shit, am I the only one who doesn't know?

I inhale and hold it for a second or two before creating a tiny hole with my mouth. It oozes out gracefully.

Quil and Embry are two of my closest friends, so I think they would've told me.

I keep up the lyrics to the unnecessarily sad rap song playing and take a few more puffs.

So, this is what being cheated on feels like: useless, angry, and betrayed. Justice has been served surely. I did Leah in the worst.

I sit forward and puff harder. Fuck this feeling.

My eyes water and I let them. Sometimes you gotta cry it out.

Shit, we just bought our first house together. Ugh, fucking why?! The tears roll effortlessly down my face.

Man, I've become a bitch, but regardless of how manly I think I am, I'm crying until it stops hurting. We might be here a while.

After smoking another blunt-and-a-half and jizzing on the concrete ground of the garage, it's after midnight. It is officially Jacob's first birthday.

I get my eyes together with the eye drops, put my shirt back on, lock my stash away, and then kill the Rabbit's engine. I drag myself up the basement and upstairs into the bedroom, where Leah's fast asleep.

My imagination Jacob has begun mentally yelling at her and shaking her awake. Imagination Leah, stunned, fights me off and it escalates into a heated confrontation in which she begins hitting me.

I tighten my fists.

After staring at her for a couple more seconds, I strip myself down to my briefs and get into the unoccupied side of the bed.

Minutes later, she tosses and turns around to which her body is laying atop of mine. I caress her hair.

I can't stand being mad at this chick.

She mumbles something in her sleep.

"What?"

Her snoring decreases in sound as her mumbling becomes more comprehendible.

"Huh?"

"Jay-cub," she moans, latching onto my hair as her arms reach further up my body.

"Hmm?"

"You smell like weed."

I shrug.

"I thought we agreed not to smoke in the house."

Why the fuck should I answer to you?!

Anger brewing, I just caress her neck. She shivers.

"I was actually in the garage."

That shut her up. It actually makes her turn back over to her side of the bed.

It's the summertime now.

That means the sun is out, the wind—if there is any—is warm along with the water. School's out for the time, being which explains the huge smile on Doll's face.

It's our first summer away from La Push.

It's. . .different.

We have a lawn that the kids and Leah can play around on. We have a bigger porch with better shade and the beach isn't too far. It's definitely not what we had in La Push; it's exactly what Royce said: a very family oriented area.

Even though its summer and far too beautiful outside, there's still a lot of work to do. Like painting and making this place our own. We're gonna have to finish painting the family room and the kid's rooms; finish unpacking all those boxes in the basement; go grocery shop—

"Hey, baby," Leah's voice is the first thing I hear when I stroll through the archway of our Silverdale paradise's entrance. I follow her voice into the kitchen, where the smell of the wet paint and fresh brushes are musty.

"Hello, Mrs. Black. How was your day?"

She shrugs as she drags the baby blue paint on its brush against the kitchen's fourth wall. I'm tempted to touch it, but it looks like she's almost done so I don't.

"Así así. How was work?"

"Work is work," I reply and sit at the kitchen table. The garage hasn't officially opened yet, but as a manager, I am to interview and hire and fill out all kinds of papers, and I'd rather not.

She brushes over the last corner of the wall and backs away to inspect the job she's done. She sighs, satisfied, and sets the brush in the sink to run hot water over it. After doing so, she finally turns around to sink between my legs and give me a proper kiss. I lean down to give her a real smooch, but end up just giving her a peck when I notice her attire.

"That's my shirt," I point at her chest, then her legs. "And my shorts." I look at her head now.

"The bandana's Emily's" she tells me, readjusting the blue garment that holds her hair out of her face.

"You don't have your own clothes?" I joke, and she just blushes.

"I haven't unpacked my clothes yet and I like wearing your stuff." Her coy grin pulls me in for another kiss, but this one is longer and more involved. My fingers ravel through whatever loose hair is escaping her bun.

Separating an inch apart, I smile and take in the golden silence. "Where're the little ones?"

She nods upward. "Doll's helping the twins pick out a color for their walls."

"Great," I reply and peck her quickly before she twirls around and puts the top back on the tin paint can. I marvel at her ass until she comes back up.

"Nothing else interesting happen today?" I further ask, reviewing her job on the walls. She thinks for a minute and nods.

"Some neighbors came over to welcome us to the neighborhood."

My eyebrows rise. "Really? Who were they?"

"Two women, actually. I assumed they were a gay couple, but they denied it when I asked and—"

"You asked them?"

"They didn't mind. Anyway, they came over like a couple hours after you left," she begins and washes her hands. "They were really friendly, and I didn't know people actually do this, but they brought a pie."

"Really?" I interrupt excited.

"Nah, I'm fucking with you," she says seriously as she dries her hands with a hand towel. I chuckle and she continues her story.

"So, um, yeah they came over and they were really polite like, 'Welcome to our neighborhood,' and I was like, 'Aw, thanks,' and I introduced them to the kids. The three of us made a little small talk, like where I'm from, and you'll find this funny—they thought you were my brother."

I cringe. That's not funny at all. "Why?"

"They said we look alike," she scoffs. "I told you white people think we all look the same. You should've seen their faces when I told them my name was Leah and not Pocahontas."

"But that is your nickname," I remind her, but she disregards it. Living in La Push all my life with a predominately Native American and Hispanic population has given me the benefit of never having any type of racial stereotyping.

"But even though it was such a nice visit, I don't think they liked me," she adds.

"Why?"

"Well, that's just it. I don't know. They were saying I was pretty and how they should hold on to their husbands with me in town."

I grin. "It was a compliment," I insist. "Were you wearing that?" I point to what she has on now.

"No, I had on jean shorts and a half-shirt."

I give her a look, and she frowns when she puts two and two together. "Oh. I didn't think how I was dressed—"

"I don't think it's what you were wearing that threw them off," I say. "Maybe it was your body in general and how openly you express it."

"Meaning?"

"I'm assuming these women are, like, in the beginning of their golden years, and I guess one look at your tattoos, pretty face, and your perfect figure after three kids, they just got intimidated."

"Intimidated," she repeats and taps her chin.

"What were their names?"

"I don't even remember. White Lady One and Two. I'm still kinda tripped out that they actually just had the thought that I'd actually even think about their husbands like—"

I stop her sentence with my lips and pull away seconds later. "Don't worry about it."

"I mean, do I really come off as a homewrecker?"

No, but you didn't come off as a cheater, either, but shit happens.

"Just forget what they said, alright?" I mutter against her lips before giving her another kiss.

She whines and pouts her lips playfully. "They thought you were my brother. The fuck I look like living with my brother at twenty-seven years old?"

I kiss her again.

"I don't even want their husbands," she mumbles and wraps her arms around my neck. I prop her up in the sink and hold her ass in my palms.

"I've got my own," she finishes, and I squeeze her cheeks. She moans into our kiss and slips me her tongue.

This is wrong. I feel like I'm kissing Bella but tasting Leah. It doesn't stop me from lurking my way around her beautiful body, lifting her and transporting us to another counter. Her legs are in a vice grip around my waist.

She moans my name when my lips travel towards her neck—the sweetest smelling part of her. Even in my baggy basketball shorts, her ass can't be lost.

"I've been waiting for this shit all day," she remarks.

I grin, planting kisses along her jaw. "You miss Daddy?"

"Mhm," she whines. "I've always wanted to fuck the boss."

My tongue runs smoothly over her collarbone in between nips. She throws her head back to make my way around easier. I'm nibbling on the most sensitive part of the crook of her neck, ready to strip and profane her in the middle of this kitchen when we're interrupted by the erratic knocking on the front door.

We both jump at the sound and deep down, I'm glad we were stopped; if I were to make love to Leah right now, in the heat of the moment, I'll say something I don't mean.

She laughs and rubs her neck after I let her down.

Then there's the surface of me who has a boner right now, and in no mood of meeting neighbors.

"Hi!" I hear Leah greet when the front door swings opens. I sit down at the kitchen table and watch the paint dry.

For just being here a week, Silverdale has already proved itself to be a nice place. Royce was right. I do miss La Push already, though. I never thought I would for have living there forever, but I miss my dad, my sisters, the pack, bonfires, First Beach, the forest, and shit, even the fucking Cullens.

But all that is two hours away. I think I'll survive without those details, but maybe this experience will be better for the family. It's already better for Doll and the twins because they haven't left the backyard since we got here. Leah's already scaring the shit out of our neighbors, and my wallet is a bit thicker.

On the outside, we're perfect, but every perfect family has secrets. All I want is a confession.

"Jacob!" Leah calls. I groan and make sure my wood is down before standing and rounding the corner to the archway.