"Till this moment I never knew myself." ― Jane Austen

I'm sick in the days following Harry's death. It's too much for me to take, I think. I see his throat being cut every time I flush the toilet.

Charlie says he understands if I want to call out from school. He doesn't really understand though. I tell him no anyway because this is the last week before spring break and there are tests I need to take so I can pass. I'm not so nonchalant about school as I was last semester. I need to graduate.

Word does pass around the halls about me witnessing a pretty bad animal attack. People almost look at me as much as they did when I first came to Forks.

Jessica and Angela keep asking if I'm alright. I tell them the bare minimum. It was awful. They ask what I was doing there. I lie and say I was with Jake. I can't explain vampires or who Sam is to them. It would either be an existential threat or they could turn out like me, desperate to end the curse of humanity. Well, some of the difficulty is also because I don't know how to even categorize Sam in my head. Not just his species, but him.

Mike tries to cheer me up by again mentioning the need for us to see a movie. We all agree that sometime during or after spring break would be best. It sounds like Eric at least is getting a trip somewhere exotic. Mike hints that we could go by ourselves, but I don't want to lead him on. I'm not sure there are very many people I really want to be alone with right now.

My dad tells me of plans for a celebration of Harry's life this coming Saturday after his burial. It feels fitting for the man. I doubt he'd want people mourning forever.

When I get home from school for the week and flop onto my bed, I'm close to passing out. But my cellphone starts ringing and I groan thinking it must be Renee. Who knows what Charlie told her.

Instead, it's a number still seared onto my mind.

I immediately sit up and brush my fingers through my hair despite knowing he can't see it. I fight to remain calm and be as natural as possible.

"Hi," I say to Sam, feeling my whole body flush. I clutch my phone tighter. My fingers could even turn white.

"Bella," he speaks my name and I feel my arms shiver. "How are you?"

"Fine," I answer pretty quickly. Fine is a relative term anyway. "How are you? How are the others?"

"As best as can be expected."

Which tells me not that great. I know I wouldn't react well if my dad died near me and I had to phase into another animal. My stomach twists thinking this. Sam's experience must have been pretty horrible as well.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I tell him, grabbing a piece of my hair and tucking it behind my ear.

"I wanted to see if you were coming to Harry's funeral and celebration at the beach afterward," Sam tells me. My heart flutters realizing he almost sounds nervous saying this.

"Yeah, of course."

My eyes grow heavy even thinking of skipping it when I was the last person Harry really got to talk to. It feels even worse knowing I stole that moment from his family. Maybe this was another part of Victoria's plan.

"Great, I'll be bringing your clean clothes then."

"Oh, you really don't have to do that," I mutter. Guilt piles on wondering if Sam had to scrub Harry's blood out of them. I'm not sure my nerves or my stomach could handle such a thing at the moment.

"It's not a problem," Sam says so easily I blush further.

"I still have your clothes too," I exclaim, feeling guilty for instinctively folding his shirt and sweatpants into my drawer. I'd forgotten I'd have to part with them.

"Keep them," he answers.

Now my whole face ignites. "I can't do that, they're yours. I think I can take a guess how many clothes you guys go through phasing and I don't want to lessen your supply even worse."

He laughs, still a beautiful sound crackling through the phone. "If it makes you feel better, I've long since learned to avoid destroying stuff."

"Right," I bit my lip. "Still, it wouldn't be fair to take them when you're giving mine back."

"Don't worry about it." And Sam sounds so sure and comforting that I can't bring myself to argue. Maybe I don't want to. Maybe I want pieces of him tucked away after all.

"Okay, I'll see you then." I cringe at myself for wanting to cut off the conversation so quickly, but I fear I'm going to implode if I don't. I clutch my comforter closer to my chest and dig my toes into the bed. Every nerve in my body waits for his answer.

"See you then, Bella."

The funeral is a weird affair. I don't understand many Quileute traditions. The burial grounds are said to be sacred so only a few elders work to bury his coffin. I try not to cry watching it lowered into the ground.

Sue hugs her children closer to her. They all wear black. I think Leah has a dress on, which I immediately know isn't natural to her. I feel underdressed with just a dark coat on. At least I'm not as bad as Charlie with his police uniform.

Whenever I look over at him, I'm surprised to see his face full of sorrow. He has been close to Harry and Billy all my life. But displaying emotions has never been a trait for the Swan family. It must really hurt if he looks like he's about to cry himself. I keep touching my eyes to avoid a full breakdown.

Sam and the other wolves stand gathered off to the side with their heads down. Shirtless, as usual. Yet no one complains about it.

When it is all said and done, we make our way to the beach where the pack, presumably using their super strength, sits up logs to sit on.

The mood of the funeral only lasts half an hour. People slowly start to warm up as the sun goes down. There are enough stories of Harry to go around. I finally see Sue smile a little bit, relying on her own embarrassing times as her husband tried to woo her. It stirs another incomprehensible emotion in me.

Sam sits next to me and as usual, I heat up just being near him. With his legs spread out, half an inch away from touching mine. I try to smile and not think about it. He hands me a bag full of my clothes and I sheepishly say thank you. Even Charlie remarks that was generous of him. I melt seeing them interact so casually. Charlie always hated Edward.

Billy and Jake approach us. And Jacob still refuses to look me directly in the eye. Strange how I realize both of them know the truth of what happened with Harry. And we're all sworn to secrecy about it. I don't know if this is the best way to honor him, but I know he'd wish for us to protect the tribe above all else.

"Let's go partake in some more adult activities, Old Chief," Billy snickers at Charlie like it's an old inside joke.

Charlie rolls his eyes and stands up, stretching his legs and pretending to be bothered. I already know he enjoys beer occasionally. Commenting on it would feel hypocritical considering my past behavior.

"Dad, that's not a good idea," Jacob chastises. He wears his usual concerned face that I hadn't noticed I'd been missing so much.

His father scoffs at him, "It's a celebration, son. Harry's ghost will haunt us if we don't."

Wheeling Billy off, they leave the three of us by ourselves. Jake isn't keen to stick around. He gives us a formal nod and runs off to who I know as Embry. I look around and see Quil watch the two of them, his own features worried and jealous. He still doesn't know the secret. Maybe he never will.

"He won't be angry at you forever," Sam says to me.

His large dark eyes almost convince me of this, but I shake my head. I might not be in Jake's head like Sam is, but I can feel the energy between us. It's gone sour. Much like how it felt right before Edward announced he was leaving.

"I think, I don't know," I struggle to say. "He was expecting something more from me. Something I can't give him."

Sam nods, "I know. But he still does care about you, Bella. Deep down below the hurt."

"Thanks," I mumble, awkwardly.

Electricity goes through me. Sam lays his hand on top of mine and commands my eyes to look into his. Always so round, so deep, so brilliant. My breath is stolen. I remember feeling this long ago in a different lifetime. My lungs scream.

"I care about you too, more than you know," Sam admits, his voice firm but still creaking. I know it's a fact he's whispering to me. The way his shoulders are so broad and stable shows that he believes what he's saying down to his very core. I almost jump back. How do I know this? Why does it feel so overwhelming?

"I'm not part of the pack," I respond, feeling my cheeks nearly wilt.

"You are to me," he states.

I don't know what sort of panic takes over me, but I excuse myself from Sam's side. My whole body burns sitting next to him and yet my hands want nothing more than to reach out to his warm face. I ball them into fists and try to find something else to distract myself with.

Shuffling between different groups of people has never been so hard before. The boys are eager to tell me various stories of turning into a wolf. I do manage to laugh a bit hearing their tales of chasing each other's tails.

Jake talks to me just a little bit since I'm not near Sam. I suppose I don't quite understand their animosity. Something twists inside of me telling me that it's because of me. I don't much want to be around Jake after feeling this way. His eyes narrow on me.

The Clearwaters finally move around the gathering from their first spot next to the elders. I wait a long time till Leah separates from her mom and brother. My feet guide me to her easily.

Her hair is cropped. I can see the jagged ends. Must have been done in a rush. I swallow as the memory of seeing Jake like this weighs down on me. She's even grown a couple of inches and now has more muscle mass in her arms than in my whole body, like him too. It strikes me now that she could be just as angry as he was.

"Hey," I say as I approach her slowly. She turns and looks at me quizzically, but at least there's no animosity. "How are you doing?"

"Pretty shitty," she answers, eyebrows raised.

"Make sense," I mumble, averting my eyes. I could swear she'd stare an actual hole into someone's head if she was in the mood for it. But instead, I hear her grumble and just sigh at me. It's the sound of pity, I've heard it before.

"You know, there's absolutely no record of another girl phasing in all of those old fucking journals. What am I supposed to do with that info, huh? Proof that I'm even freakier than the rest of these bastards?"

A choked laugh escapes from me. She looks at me surprised, clearly not expecting this reaction but I see her own lip pull into a smile.

"Maybe you're special," I suggest a little playfully. "Chosen by the universe or something?"

Leah's eyes narrow, "You really believe in that shit?"

"No," I shake my head, "I've never believed in God or anything else."

I think I might know a dozen other people who have. Charlie and Renee have both seemed to believe in something, even if neither could put it into words. Yet they never took me to any house of worship. I try to push the thought of Carlisle and his Catholicism out of my head. It was beautiful to know of his faith then, but now, the words fail me. Maybe too much has happened.

With a bigger smile, she nods, "Me neither. Because some man in the sky who decided all this," she gestures to the funeral celebrations going on around us, "has to be evil at the very least. Certainly doesn't deserve praying to."

I hum in approval.

The night festivities seem to rage on. I look over at Sam and even see a beer in his hand. Despite the mourning for Harry, people are in high spirits. I begin to feel faint on my feet. I don't quite understand why. Maybe I'm just too inexperienced with how the Quilettes move on from death. Bella from a few months ago would have buried herself in her bed again.

Leah and I don't say anything for a while.

"I thought Edward Cullen was a god," the words fall out of me. I recoil in shock at them and Leah looks at me surprised. But I know the statement to be true. I was desperately in love with an ideal, a perfect figure who I believed nature had blessed to be that way.

She swallows, "Yeah, some fucked up god he would have been."

I cough.

But another smile pulls itself from my cheeks. "And then I thought maybe Jake was, you know. He was so kind and truthful. But now he's just kind of an asshole," I whisper the offending word while looking at him from the corner of my eye. He doesn't acknowledge my slight against him at all.

Leah bursts out lighting.

"Alright, ex-vampire girl, suppose we can put our numbers in each other's phones after all," she winks at me.

It's a short affair trading phones. I briefly panic that she'll see Sam's number in there or maybe the fact I haven't deleted any of the Cullens, but she doesn't mention anything. Her model isn't as new as mine and I also feel guilty for that.

"There's Sam's mom," Leah lowers her voice.

I realize immediately why she isn't keen on having anyone else hear us. Sam's mom is undoubtedly beautiful, unsurprising really since she's his mom after all. But three long silvery gashes run down her face and neck. She maneuvers like she hardly knows they are there. All the organs in my abdomen squeeze together. I don't know this story. I only know the words he told me. I didn't get to live it. So I have no place to judge.

I don't react much.

"You know about that?" Leah raises an eye at me and folds her arms across her chest. Her posture is much more confident than mine.

"Mmhm," I nod with my eyes cast downward. Perhaps she's surprised by this.

"Well," Leah scoffs. Then she looks out at the crowd until she signals out a taller woman with bangs. Someone again who looks poised and accepted in this group. She wears a tight burgundy shirt. "Do you know about her?"

I squint, "Uh, no. She looks like she's with Paul?" The woman and Paul look rather cozy together. Sometimes he'll stretch his arm out across her shoulders and squeeze her. She'll playfully hit him back on the shoulder. They look like they've been with each other for a while.

Leah rolls her eyes, "Yeah, she's dating him now. But before she was with Sam."

Instantly, I turn to fully face her. Leah looks even sharper now with her cut hair and revealing clothing. I gathered pretty early on that the other boys stay shirtless to avoid tearing more clothes. Now Leah has to wear smaller articles of clothing. As far as I can tell though, she has the same constant body heat to protect her.

"When?" I ask. I can't even disguise my curiosity.

"Shortly after he left me."

I grind my teeth together.

Her tone of disapproval is obvious enough. And I can't help but think she's right if she believes that was a crappy thing to do. I don't know very much about Sam's motives, but leaving Leah in the dust doesn't make a ton of sense.

My mind tugs in different directions. I know who Sam is now. Strong and capable. Not the type to leave people without any explanation. Well...still. What he did to Leah is arguably worse. And I accept it as a mistake, but knowing him now, I don't know if I have it in me to feel angry. Maybe, looking at both Leah and this Emily's perfect physique, just jealous. My skin grows tight at the thought.

"Suppose I'm just supposed to accept it now that I know the wolfy secret too," she says.

"I'm sorry," I tell her because I have nothing else to say.

She turns to me with a fire blazing in her eyes, "You should ask Sam about some of the other secrets he might have."

I bite the inside of my cheek, "He doesn't have to tell me anything though. He might not even like me."

"Doesn't like you!" Leah exclaims incredulously. "Good God, that man has done nothing but look at you with puppy dog eyes the entire night."

My whole body flushes.

Again, another eye roll, "And you wonder what's ticking Jake off."

Without stopping myself, I let out an awkward laugh, "I think everything ticks him off."

"Damn, straight," Leah mutters. I remember that she and everyone else in the pack have gone through the same thing. "Well, I need more alcohol now that my dad isn't here to tell me no."

My jaw drops at her particularly morbid joke. She just laughs and pats me on the back. I follow her rejoin Embry and Jacob away from the two established couples laughing somewhere else. Jacob looks at me for a second but averts his gaze pretty quickly. Guilt reaches my fingertips, but I ball up my hands and walk away.

I sit back down next to Sam, who looks as if he's been waiting for me. I give him a small smile as the embers sizzling from the fire reach out to graze my skin.

"Can I ask you something?" I ask him. I feel my stomach turn into a huge bundle of nerves. I don't really know why I am about to ask what I am. Or maybe I do, but I can't confront that part of myself now.

"Anything," he tells me, eyes still shining. He always looks so strong, so trustworthy. Why am I asking something that could affect my opinion of him now? Just to hurt myself more than I already have been?

"How many, um, people have you been with?" I hurry the question out in such a way that maybe a normal person wouldn't catch it. But he's not normal, he's Sam.

Sam loses a bit of his sparkling aura and frowns, "Just four."

"Just four," I repeat without looking at him. My whole body burns.

We sit in silence until another burning question forces its way up my throat until I cough it out. "Who was the first?"

"A girl in my high school class. It was only a couple of times," he admits.

My fingers absentmindedly play with the stump of wood I'm sitting on. I feel it crack beneath my fingers as I stare into the fire pit. I don't feel much outside warmth, however. I only feel embarrassment burn itself onto my features.

"And then Leah?"

Sam nods, maybe makes an 'mmhmm' sound.

"And then Emily after that?" I press. Later, I'll want to kill myself for this.

He turns me with wide and surprised eyes, "That was a mistake."

I shake my head, "I can't judge you for that."

There's something unspoken left on my tongue. I could be a mistake too. He never told me why he left. I've never asked. Now would be the moment. But I can't face that rejection from him, not again from a person I've grown close to. Edward and Jake are enough.

"Well," I cough again, "Are you going to ask me the same question?"

"Do you want me to?"

I can't answer. Maybe the fire is burning me after all and all that remains is a Bella with the last morsel of self-preservation a charred crumb beside her.

Sam asks, "Who was your first, Bella?"

"You."

His brow furrows and he sits up away from me. My heart beats furiously seeing him be confused by this. Was it not obvious?

"And after?" he continues, his expression laced with uncertainty, eyes searching my every look.

My voice a wobbling whisper, "Just you."

The confession electrifies the air between us. I'm reduced to a small, paralyzed child facing discipline from her parents.

Sam's eyes bug out and his jaw juts forward, turning away from me. His head shakes, no, spasms, in some way that I can only describe as in raw disbelief. The same way I reacted to him leaving. The emotion is else unreadable, but something about it feels like it ought to be familiar. He swallows and swallows again. His Adam's apple bobs repeatedly. I watch the changes on his face. Flickers of shock, anger, and probably harsh judgment of me. It doesn't look like he's going to phase, thank god. He's vibrating with a different air of frenzy. When he finally does turn back to look at me, there's some sort of terror present in his expression.

His voice is low and he presses his eyelids shut, "Are you sure, Bella?"

"Of course," I say, my cheeks hotter than I ever remember them being. "I'm not, I'm not…," I don't want to say something insulting about the rest of women. I clear my throat, "There has only been you. Ever."

Sam sets his jaw back in the right spot.

We again sit in silence. I listen to the cheers of the celebration going on all around me. I could search out Leah again or even Jacob, find something else to escape this moment with, but I don't. The pain of making Sam uncomfortable seeps too deeply within me. I stay by him.

"I'm sorry," I say, not looking at him. It's the only thing I can think of saying.

He immediately turns back to me, "You don't have anything to be sorry for. I should be sorry. I am sorry, Bella."

"Don't be," I hurry out. "I think, or I'm trying to, remember what I said. And I understand why you left."

Sam looks like he's about to apologize again so I cut him off.

"It wasn't you. I had been seeing him for so long. And he was so mean to me like he was a completely different person than the one I knew. He had a right to be upset at me, like you did and Jake too, for drinking and doing drugs, but I still wanted him gone. I don't know how that happened. I thought I would want him with me forever even if he was a hallucination. But that night, that was the last time I saw him. That's all I remember. It was like a final goodbye."

The confession spills from me. It removes itself from the marrow of my biomes, threatening to crack them open and leave me

"I don't regret it," I add. "But we can just forget it ever happened."

"I can't do that," he answers. His eyes are dark as he looks at me, and I instinctively turn away. The flashes of how he looked at me that night come back full force. I cross my legs. Whatever strong emotion he feels, desperation, maybe, attacks me simultaneously. I hear our rugged breaths become in sync.

"Me neither," I whisper.

It haunts me at night, leaves me aching and breathless. I thought I had committed the worst sin against Edward. But the part of my soul that longs for Sam's touch again keeps being ignited. Being around him stirs the worst desire within me. To be taken and marked.

I won't tell Sam of Edward's constant rejections. How I had reached for ice-cold hands to provide me warmth. He always said no. He was worried about hurting me. I could never argue against that. Even his kisses were always reluctant. And now when I look at Sam, half of his face illuminated by the massive bonfire, I feel something twist inside of me, looking for another hint of the heat only experienced by being with him.

Eventually, Charlie finds us sitting there without speaking and takes me home. We now let the memory of Harry, and especially his death, rest in peace.

For the first time in months, I almost slept soundly. There were no massive nightmares. Only a feeling of warmth mixed with some discomfort. Still in a good enough mood, I offer to make Charlie breakfast this Sunday too. Maybe something sugary. That seems good.

"Sorry, Kiddo, I've got to put in an extra shift for this wolf business," he states.

I grip the countertop to steady myself. What can I tell him though? It's not true. The wolves aren't the evil ones?

"No problem, Dad. I'll just make something for myself and dinner for when you get home," I answer.

He nods, "Thanks, Bells. That'd be nice."

There's a knock on the door minutes after Charlie's left. He's probably come back to get something he's forgotten. But a scan around the room eliminates the usual culprits. Coffee and holster aren't present.

Then I see Sam's form outside the door and my feet skip to open it for him, a rather dangerous endeavor coming from me. I try to wipe the growing grin off my face. It's impossible now when it comes to him. Much like how it was with Edward. I didn't expect to see him again so soon after the bonfire.

"Hey," I say, flinging aside the barrier between us. "What are you doing here?"

I can instantly tell my light tone is not matched by the way his expression falters upon seeing me. His eyes are uncharacteristically wide, but his face remains rather emotionless. My stomach drops a bit seeing he doesn't look that happy to greet me.

"May I come inside?"

I push the door open wider and stand aside so he can enter. I feel my breath hitch when he steps in. This may be the first time he's seen my house and I haven't even cleaned that well. His house has always been pretty spotless, but certainly not devoid of character. I try thinking about this instead of the creeping dread going up my spine.

"What is that?" I ask. Sam is holding onto a white plastic bag. It looks like it's from a drugstore. There's a distinct rectangle shape poking out from the inside.

I feel beads of sweat form on my forehead. My arms are beginning to twitch. The anxiety is nearly fully-fledged now. I can't shake it off.

"I need you to take this," he tells me. His face is deadly serious. Then he finally shows me what's inside his bag. A pink and blue box labeled with 'Results in two minutes or less!' Maybe something about being the best test on the market.

I lose all of my breath.

I know what kind of a test that is.

"No," I mumble looking downwards, "I don't think…"

"I need you to take this," he repeats, even more serious now.

My mind swarms with thoughts. Obviously, I don't need it...but when was the last time I've gotten my period? My hands grow clammy when I realize I don't know. I've been so preoccupied with things. Jake and then Victoria. Surely I've had a cycle in between these things? But I can't remember. Maybe it's just another symptom of the brain fog I can't seem to get rid of.

Then I think of other symptoms. I've thrown up so often, been nauseous, and not eager to eat anything. Panic wells behind my eyes. I can feel the tears threatening to spill. Have I ever been more emotional than I've been in the past couple of months?

Oh god.

Sam looks at me expectantly, like he's not going to leave until I do as he says.

I look back down at his outstretched dark hand and the box he's holding with it. I don't want quick results. No thank you. Yet, there's no argument I can give against this. He looks at me like he knows the answer anyway.

"Okay," I whisper.

I take it from him and my cheeks grow warm once more around him. "Please wait down here."

When I'm upstairs and out of sight behind the bathroom door, I take another good look at myself. I don't look like how I did when he first left. I look different. Tired and sick and maybe full of something else. Something I really don't want to face.

I hear Sam's heavy footsteps below. He's probably roaming around and looking at our family portraits or something. Oh god, family. I realize that is what this means, in a sort of abstract way. A growing family.

I need to get this over with. It can't possibly be as bad as Sam seems to think it is.

Except: It is positive.

The damned second line showed up instantly. Didn't even have to wait the whole fucking minute. This can't be real. I can't be going through this. It was only once with Sam. Isn't it rare for it to happen from just one time?

I press my wrist up to my mouth and feel my whole body sob.

The test falls to the bathroom floor and I hear it bounce repeatedly on the tiles. I can't stare at anything else. It finally stops and so does my life. Oh my god.

"Bella?" Sam's deep voice asks from below.

Straightening myself and stopping my tears, I open the door just a crack to yell out to him. "Um, still waiting!"

He doesn't answer, but then I feel the urge inside of me to leave. I can't be in this house another second. I need to run far, far away. But Sam obviously stands in the way of that. I suddenly get an idea. It might not work, but I have to try something.

"You can wait in my room!" I call out to him again. "It's just upstairs."

When I hear his footsteps climb the staircase and follow the allotted amount until he reaches my room, I don't waste a second and bolt out of the bathroom.

My feet carry me faster than I've gone before. Faster than when I ran away from Paul as a wolf. It's a miracle I'm making it down the stairs without tripping. I'm soaring through my house and pushing through the front door. But I don't stop to breathe when I make it outside. I run across the driveway and hit the ground even quicker. I'm almost into the trees when I feel a sudden halt.

Sam's caught up with me. Of course, he has. He holds onto my wrist and the inertia from stopping my flight almost causes me to crash back into him.

I don't know what I'm doing, but I turn around and hiss at him: "I'm pregnant!"

He doesn't even look surprised. He looks at me with pity. I almost recoil in disgust. I could push him aside and vomit on the ground. I can barely hear anything, the ringing becomes so loud. I can't see. I can't move.

I look down at his hand curled around my wrist. Have I always been so small and weak compared to him?

"Bella, Bella." My name bounces around in my own head. I feel faint, but his hand grips to steady me. "Bella."

'Shhh,' I want to say. 'Stop talking.' Everything dies on my lips. My vision curdles inward. I try to push him away, but I know he won't budge. A deeper frown creases around my mouth.

I hear Sam's steady breaths, nothing else. I try to focus on him, on the man I've grown to know. To care about. He's always kept his breathing so steady. I think he has to if what they say about phasing while feeling emotional is true. But his words scare me now. They scare me to death.

"Bella, what you said at the bonfire last night…"

Right, Harry's party. What did I say? What was important? The thoughts I'm thinking are only as audible as a person screaming in water. Gurgling and lacking resonance. My stomach flips in. And Sam's charcoal eyes destroy my soul for a second time.

"It's mine. It's mine, Bella."

I blink.

The world stops spinning.

Or maybe it spins a thousand times faster than it ever had before.

I reach down to poke at my stomach. There's something there. Something firm and round and painfully obvious now. My fingers graze over the infinitesimal swell. It takes all of my effort to tear my eyes away.

"Oh," is all I say.

My heartbeat echoes in my ears.

We stare at each other for a few impossible moments. A snapshot of forever. I don't know if he's looking at me like I'm fragile, made of glass and going to break any second, or with a buried demand of me needing to face the truth I had willed away for so long. His stare is so intense, more than I thought possible considering his past looks. He looks like he's going to die. And that I'm already dead. Maybe it's true.

"How long have you known?" I choke out. Even my own voice is foreign to me now.

"A while."

I circle my fingers around my belly. I can't pull my hand away from this new part of me. Everything is glued to this one impossible moment. I grip the area tighter, nearly willing it to go back inside of me and let my stomach be flat once again. But there's something in there.

"Why-why didn't you say anything?" my voice is small, my words marred by near-sobbing.

"I assumed you weren't that far along if you didn't know," Sam answers. "I thought you were with someone else."

I shake my head and my tears fling in different directions. How could I be with someone else?

This can't be happening.

"Oh," I whine again. My ears go back to ringing.

I take a step. Forward or back, I can't tell. My shoe connects with a rock and I stumble forward. Sam is catching me before I've fallen a foot through the air. His chest is warm and solid like granite. But he feels more human and alive than anything I've felt before. It almost undoes me.

"Are you alright?" he asks. I can see how unsure he is. His eyes briefly flicker over my abdomen and I almost cover myself with my hands. But then something clicks in my mind. I steady myself back on the ground to look into his dark eyes.

I don't answer him, barely concerned with my own well-being. Instead, I whisper, "Can you hear it?"

His mouth parts open, but then he closes it just to nod.

"Does it sound okay?" I ask. The shock of my burgeoning maternal instincts will register more to me later.

"Yes," his voice wavers at the end. I look closer at him and see his eyes have glazed over. He looks different than he did a week ago when he went into shock after Harry's death. Now he looks like he's been reduced to a middle school-aged boy. An adolescent barely capable of hearing the news that they're going to get a younger sibling soon.

I cry then.

I cry because my body can't handle it at how I'm actually relieved to hear this. How something small and probably no bigger than a peanut now rules my life. Something I didn't know existed until ten minutes ago. But there it is inside of me. And so is the desperate desire to make sure it's okay.

I can't handle Sam because I don't know what he's feeling about it. Shame reaches the tops of my cheeks. Oh god, he probably hates me. He probably hates this whole situation. God, I remember not even thinking about protection. I could have done something and now I'm...I don't want to think the word again.

Sam's hands find my shoulders and he pulls me up to look at him. I can see his eyes really sparkling now. It only makes me cry worse.

"It's going to be alright," he tells me. "I'm going to be there for you."

I keep crying because I don't know what he means. Is he asking for me to get rid of it? I instantly know I can't do such a thing. The strange unfolding feeling of love grips me. It might take days for my mind to catch up, but my bodily instincts immediately want to fight for my child. Even if I'm alone and have no idea how to take care of another tiny person.

Suddenly, Sam's head twitches towards the trees. I know this look from before. He looked the same way before Victoria appeared to threaten us. Like how he could hear her hiding in the woods.

I sob out loud now realizing this.

"It's not a threat," he tells me quickly. "She's just testing our borders again. Trying to tire us out."

I can barely hear him.

"I'll have to go," he adds. I see regret flicker across his features and know he means it. Still, my chest feels like it's caving in and I can't even walk back to my house alone without falling.

"What?" I demand, surprising myself with the anger in my voice.

He frowns, "She's learning too much about our land. I need to make sure she can't get anywhere else."

"Fine," I grit out through my teeth. "I'll handle this on my own."

His brow furrows together, his russet skin reflecting in the few rays of sunlight. He's gorgeous. I remember when I first saw him outside of my house. I remember being nearly in awe. I feel the same now, but the bubbles of rage are building in my throat. Gorgeous men can't be trusted.

"Bella, I will come back..."

"No, go," I sob. "Please just leave."

"Bella…" He looks almost defeated, begging me like this. But I can't hear it anymore. If my knees are going to buckle and I'm going to cry myself to sleep, I don't want him near to watch. I muster my last bit of courage and fight to look past his broken eyes. I can't handle this anymore.

"Please go!"

He nods and with a final sorry look of goodbye, jogs off into the trees.

The moment he's gone, my legs do finally give out and I fall to the forest floor. My hands and knees hurt pressing against the sharp pine nettles. I know this feeling. I've done this before. I'm just more lucid now. So impossibly aware of the impossible situation I'm in.

I dry heave and cry for too long.

When I finally become capable of picking myself up, I can only manage to silently drag myself back into bed. Finally, my mental stability slips, and the images of a foreign dreamland come.

I imagine myself as a ball of light underneath the ground. While I shine, I am alone. There's nothing for anyone else to see. Then suddenly a small seed falls into me and although it is foreign and intrusive, I feel like I could almost cope with it. But it wants to grow. And its tendrils wrap all over me, siphoning off my light so it can expand. These veins reach further and further into my body so it can replicate. I suffocate.

I wake up covered in sweat.

And shockingly, the nightmare is easy to fight off for the first time in my life. That's not what having a child is like. I know within me that my light will only grow with the addition of another person. It couldn't possibly strangle me to death. Not when it's made of love.

My full-length mirror calls to me. I stand in front of, dumbstruck at how different I look. I gently push up my camisole until only skin is exposed. There it is again. A small bump.

Still shaking, my hands instinctively cup my flesh. I can't feel anything moving yet, but I hope I do soon. Despite the shock and fear for the future, I know I want this. I think back to all of the difficult times. James attacking me, the Cullens leaving, losing Jake as a friend, and now Victoria. Nothing ever seemed to have a true light at the end of the tunnel. I knew I could weather out the difficult things for people I cared about, but I didn't know if anything would ever get better for me.

Now I do. Because this feels different. This feels like hope.

A/N: They know! Seriously, half of the reason I wrote this story was to get to the scene where Sam tells Bella about the baby! It straight up haunted me, and it's so bittersweet to know it's here but I need to take a break before I can get into the other half of the story. Do stay tuned! I hopefully have more interesting/weird takes ahead. It's nerve-wracking to think about whether or not your ideas will resonate with an audience, but alas the drive to write hasn't left me! I hope my pivot to work on school related things doesn't last long, thank you all for bearing with me!