Emily,
Bella and Edward got married. Jacob is still sulking and refused to go to the wedding, but made me and Seth go so we could watch the Cullens and make sure they're treating Bella with the respect she deserves. His words, not mine.
There was free food, so things were mostly okay. I just kind of stayed away from Charlie Swan, because I didn't trust myself not to start a fight with him. Seth insisted that I get along with the vampires, so I did. The doctor one stared at me and asked me questions about how I could be a female werewolf and then asked for a sample of my blood. I told him fuck no, because I don't trust a fucking vampire with my fucking blood, doctor or not. Then the lesbian one asked me where I got my dress, and I wasn't going to lie, so I said it was something I found at a thrift store, and she looked not surprised, but confused. Like she couldn't possibly imagine why I was wearing it. Fucking rich people.
At least the food was good. They had champagne, and tiny sandwiches, and desserts I thought were made of plastic, because they looked so fucking unreal. Rich people do have their perks, even if the blonde one gave me the haughtiest look and informed me that I should stay at least fifteen feet away from her because I smelled disgusting to her precious vampire nose. I didn't start a fight with her, either.
It was perfect and sunny again, because clearly the fucking universe is so fucking happy about Bella and Edward getting married.
Still hate you,
Leah.
Emily,
I'm fixing up an old truck. Billy Black owned it since the seventies, and sold it to Charlie Swan cheap when he couldn't drive any more. Charlie gave it to Bella, and Bella's a Cullen now so she's too fucking rich to need it, so she gave it to Seth because she thinks we're charity cases. If she'd given the keys to me, I'd have thrown them right back at her perfect face, but Seth is nice, so he took the truck and then gave me the keys since he knows I have a job to get to and classes in a few months. The brakes are stiff and the windshield wipers are a fucking mess, but it's otherwise in good shape except for the paint. I'll paint it black. Or maybe blue. I like blue, but you also like blue so I pretend I hate blue.
Maybe that's a little pathetic, that I'm letting you and Sam decide which colors I can like. I burned this one shirt that Sam thought I looked so pretty in after he left, even though it was a nice shirt, but every time I looked at it it'd remind me of him. Maybe that was also pathetic.
The tests finally actually came in. I can't have kids, since my ovaries are screwed up (probably from transforming). People keep trying to fucking console me, and I keep trying to find polite-ish ways to brush them off, because I don't really like kids or want them. Sam and I were going to have kids, but because he wanted kids and I didn't really care.
It's raining, and muddy and miserable. You probably have a lot of footprints to clean off your kitchen floor.
Still hate you,
Leah.
Emily,
Bella's back, and that's fucking terrible.
Jacob still hasn't gotten over Bella, and keeps hanging around their house waiting for our perfect vampire overlords to make him be their servant. I'm honestly starting to wish I hadn't left the pack. Sam had his issues, but he'd never start sucking up to the fucking vampires because they're oh-so-perfect now that Bella married one.
Fuck, maybe I should go marry a vampire just to piss Sam off.
No, I shouldn't. I hate the vampires more than Sam does.
Anyway, I called Bella out for treating Jacob like shit, and then Jacob got mad at me because I'm hurting poor, precious Bella's feelings. Jacob got mad at me for trying to defend him and point out that he does in fact have a shred of agency. Fine, next time I won't get involved, seeing as everyone is so fucking ungrateful.
It's foggy, but not so foggy you can't see.
Still hate you,
Leah.
Emily,
Oh my fucking God you're pregnant. Sam is so fucking happy about it that it's making me happy, and I keep seeing your face in my mind surrounded by sparkles. Fucking sparkles.
I'm kind of drunk, and it's not helping. I should go drink some more.
Still hate you,
Leah.
Emily,
I drank some more. I feel much better now, or at least your face is gone. The sparkles were fucking gay anyways.
Sam's a horrible person. He walked out on me without a second thought just because you showed up. Then he ripped up your face for some reason, and you stayed with him for some reason. He is not going to be a very good father. And I hate to admit it but you're probably not as bad as Sam.
You should leave him, and raise the kid on your own. Or we could run away together, and raise the kid on our own. If it turns out to be a werewolf, then I can teach it everything, and you'll be the best mom ever, and I'll finally be away from Sam and I'll be able to get over things.
Oh, God, I was really fucking drunk last night. I should probably go burn this letter.
It isn't sunny, but the cloud cover is light, and I have a bitch of a hangover that the light is just making worse.
Still hate you, no matter what,
Leah.