So this chapter was inspired by that scene in Practical Magic when Gillian comes to spend the night with Sally after her husband dies. Like loosely inspired. And it's dialogue heavy. Just go with it! I think you'll catch the drift.

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The twins flew out of JFK Sunday night. Do you ever get tired of saying goodbye to people?

Rachel hugged me for so long, I almost didn't let her go. "You're in the home stretch, honey," she reminded me with a smile. "We'll be back to see you graduate. We'll all be cheering you on."

"Please always be my sunshine, Rach," I said, wiping the tears from both of our eyes. We hugged again before she stepped aside to let Bex in. Her nose was turning red like it always did when she was about to cry, but she was trying not to let it show. "Come here," I said, holding my arms out.

Becca fell into my arms in an extremely rare show of love and affection. She squeezed me so tight that I thought I would pop. "I thought it would get easier to say goodbye," she said with a sniffle.

"I hope it never does," I confessed. "I can't tell you how much I needed you both here. I think…"

"You don't have to say it," Bex shook her head as she pulled away.

I said it anyway. "I think you guys saved me. I…I didn't know how bad it was until I saw it through your eyes."

Bex gave me a sad smile. "I'll always stand guard over you, Lee. Don't forget that."

"Would never," I promised.

I got home pretty late; I got distracted and ended up missing my stop on the subway. The same way I wished it would stop being hard to say goodbye to my best friends was the same way I wished it wouldn't. Getting to reunite with them was sweeter every time, but it was also a sad reminder that I couldn't spend every day with them. When we had gotten back to the apartment, we all had a long talk about how I needed to get my feet back on the ground. "It's not your fault for not seeing it," Bex told me. "I love both of you, but while you and Rach were running around picking flowers, I was the one that had to make sure they weren't weeds. And I don't mind doing it. I just don't want for you to feel like I'm popping your bubble when I'm trying to protect you."

"Keep your dreams big, Leah," Rachel said. "But do it the way you want to do it. Not the way everyone else wants you to do it."

The shower was as hot as I could make it and the room as dark. I was pulling on an old t shirt to wear to bed when I spotted the grey fur of a stuffed wolf Paul won for me at Coney Island.

I gasped when I spotted it. "Oh my god, no way! Look!" It was hanging on the lower level behind the milk bottle toss in between some regular teddy bears and a sparkly unicorn. It was the only one. "It's fate; we need to take it home," I told Paul.

He looked at me like I was crazy. "How is it fate, Clearwater?" he teased me, pulling me close to him.

"Because it's you," I pointed out. "It's a tiny, stuffed you."

His eyes were almost glittering as he looked down at me. A soft smile settled on his face before he dipped down to kiss me. "You really want it?" he asked.

"Yes, please," I begged.

He nodded before going over to the game. "How much for the wolf?"

The game maker was standing with his arms crossed, popping his gum. "Knock down 10 stacks, you can have whatever you want."

Paul shrugged, "Seems easy enough."

The game maker smirked a little as he handed Paul the baseballs in a bucket. Paul wasn't even trying; he was knocking them down with not even a fraction of his wolf strength. When he got to the last bottle stack, it didn't take much to figure out that the game was rigged. He threw the ball at the stack and it bounced right off the side, the bottles unmoving. Paul's eyebrow twitched up. "Ooh, so close," the game maker said sarcastically. "You have one more shot. Otherwise, you can pick from our consolation prizes."

Paul looked back at me. "You really want it?" he asked. I knew what he was really asking. Did I want him to use his strength. I nodded. He shrugged again. "Alright then…"

He motioned for the game maker to move back before he wound up really quick. He launched the ball so hard that the entire table knocked over. They had been glued to the table and to each other. The bottles shattered as they hit the ground. The game maker stood there with a look of shock on his face. "Does that count?" Paul asked casually.

The game maker nodded with his mouth open. "How did you…?" he started to ask before shaking his head. "Look, take whatever you want." He walked around to the other side of the booth. "I don't get paid enough to care about this shit…"

Paul winked at me before he hopped over the ledge to grab the wolf from the wall. "You sure you don't want one of these giant minions?"

I shook my head as I held my hands out for it. "Nope, the wolf is exactly what I want."

There was something compelling me to sleep with it that night. Maybe he was thinking about me. Well…that was a given after that embarrassing voicemail. I won't lie, I spent half of the jitney ride googling how to get rid of a voicemail on someone else's phone and spent the other half crying that my life was over. Crying because I missed Paul. Crying because I hated that I let my life get this way.

Before I fell asleep, I had turned off everything—my phone, the tv, everything—and let myself be alone with my thoughts. I wanted to see if I could even stand to be alone in my own head. To my surprise, I fell asleep fairly easily.

I thought the tapping on my window was the rain, only the rain. I thought hearing his voice was my mind playing tricks on me. But it wasn't. "Leah, baby, wake up…" was enough to jolt me out of my sleep. He pushed the hair away from my face as soon as I slid the window open. His hands were so hot; my entire body relaxed at the warmth. "Hi," he breathed.

There was no way this was real. So I reached out to feel the stubble on his cheek. Maybe the pricks will feel the same as a pinch. My heart jumped when he grabbed my wrist and kissed my thumb as it touched his lips. "I'm dreaming…" I concluded.

"No, baby," he shook his head. "I'm here."

"How are you here?" I was so sure that I was still dreaming that it didn't feel like I was actually speaking.

He was caressing my cheek as he stroked it with his thumb. "I got your voicemail," he said. I forgot how pretty his eyes were. More like I made myself forget. "I…I ran here."

"You ran here all the way from La Push…?"

Paul nodded. I just kept staring at him; I was watching him study me.

When I snapped out of my daze and confusion, I shook my head as a rattled breath left my body. "You're getting soaked," I noticed. "Come in, I'll grab you a towel."

I turned around to compose myself, focusing on the pitter patter of the rain instead of the radiating heat of the man behind me. I grabbed my shower towel from the hook on the bathroom door; my hands were shaking so bad, I worried I might pass out or something. "I think I'm a little used to the rain, Lee," he said lightly. He reached around me to grab the towel out of my hands.

"Right," I cleared my throat. "Do you want some water?"

"No."

"Are you hungry?"

"No."

"Ok…" I didn't know what to do with myself. "Do you want—you can take a shower, if you want to. I'm sure you're tired from your run…"

"Leah," he said quietly as he put his hands on my hips. He spun me around until I was facing him. I definitely was not dreaming. "It's just me."

I shook my head feverishly as I pushed away from Paul. "No," I said firm. "No, not 'just' you. Don't show up at my window after three years and say that it's 'just' you. That's bullshit, Paul."

His face twisted in confusion. "I'm sorry…are you mad at me right now?"

"I'm not mad!" I accidentally yelled then I covered my mouth. Nina was sleeping in the other room. Cursing, I ran a hand through my hair before looking at him. "It's been three years."

"I know."

"Not a phone call…or a text message. A letter. Nothing. In three years."

"Right…"

"We haven't spoken in three years." I just kept repeating three years. Mostly because my brain could not comprehend this person in front of me. He looked exactly the same; the only thing I noticed was how tired he looked behind the eyes. But he was the same. As if he stepped out of 2014. Oh, except he was still somehow gaining muscle mass. "You didn't call."

"You didn't either, Lee," he pointed out. He shook his head. "I didn't come here to make you upset or to fight. I just needed to see you. I know it's been three years and I know we've wasted time, but I'm here now."

Paul didn't even give me a chance to respond; he just pulled me into a hug and wouldn't let me go. I couldn't help but notice how different he smelled and how my body didn't immediately form to his. But it still felt like home. He still pressed his face into my hair and breathed me in deep. Don't overthink it, I thought. He's here; this is what you wanted.

I offered him one of his old shirts that I always use to sleep in. He took it and dried off with my shower towel. He sat on my bed like it was the most foreign thing in the world; he ran his hands across my blankets and picked up the wolf stuffy. He was so quiet, pensive.

"You got bigger," I pointed out. I was leaning against my dresser, hoping to appear casual. But I knew he could hear how fast my heart was racing.

"Yeah," he smirked. "Lots of pent-up energy, lots of lifting weights."

"Hmm…the Paul Lahote I used to know had a different way of releasing his energy," I tried to joke. That actually made him smile. That same smile that I always pictured in my mind. "Are you seeing anyone?"

He shot me a funny look. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"What you're doing. We're not old high school friends who lost touch and ran into each other at the supermarket. And come sit down; you're making me nervous just standing there."

"Wow, you're still bossy. That's crazy." I sat down next to him anyway. Grabbing a pillow and holding it in my lap, I crossed my legs and faced him. "You didn't answer my question though."

"No, Leah. I am not seeing anyone."

"Oh." I paused. "That's good to know."

"Is it?" We stared at each other. "Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Seeing anyone."

I shook my head. "No," I said. "I don't have time for dating."

It wasn't not true. I wasn't dating Julian; he and I had had an understanding before he tried to steal from me. Even just the thought of Julian made me feel guilty as I sat in front of Paul. I hated that Julian Gerard was the last man to touch me. Especially after knowing how it felt for Paul to love me the way he did. Did? Does? Might still? Could he still love me?

"As long as you're making time for your art, then I guess that's alright," he said. He started to make himself comfortable as he scooted until his back was pressed to my headboard. I didn't say anything to his comment, and I knew he noticed. He started tossing the wolf from hand to hand. "I can't believe you still have this."

"It's a tiny, stuffed you," I said, mirroring my words from that day at Coney Island. "Reminds me of home."

"You could always come home."

"Don't, Paul." I got up from the bed.

"Don't what, Leah?"

"Guilt me," I snapped a little. "It's not fair."

"How is that not fair, exactly?"

"Because it's not." I was begging myself to stop arguing with him. "Can we just reset? I'm sure you're hungry. Let's order something to eat."

"I told you, Lee, I'm not here to fight with you. I came to see you because I miss you. So, yes, let's just start over. But it's almost 2 in the morning, Lee. You can't get anything delivered this late."

"You can in New York City," I countered.

"Or," he stood up with me. "We can go into your kitchen, and I can make us something to eat."

I tried not to wince. Since he left, I didn't really cook. Actually, I never cooked. My version of feeding myself was iced coffee and the hatch Chile mac and cheese from Trader Joe's. He came really close to me and looked down at me to hold my gaze for a beat before brushing past me to go into the kitchen.

It was so strange seeing him in this space. Everything about this apartment was purposely different from our old apartment for a reason. He hummed to himself as he turned on the light over the stove and started rifling through the cabinets. I quietly sat at the table and watched him. "Jesus, Leah," he chuckled. "Where's the food? Does no one cook in this house?"

"We can't all be chefs," I cracked. "I think there are some ramen noodles over the fridge."

He sighed. "Ina Garten did say she loves to take something ordinary and make it special."

"I don't know about special. Usually, I just try for edible."

"Prepare for your mind to be blown then."

It was crazy how something as simple as watching him cook for me again made this feel like a normal night. He started pulling my embarrassing collection of frozen meals and started to make my first real meal that hadn't come from a restaurant in almost three years. I had spoiled myself with the fanciest meals that my student loans could afford all through my college years. I may as well have kept my shoes in the oven like Carrie Bradshaw; that's how useless it was to me.

I hadn't allowed anyone to cook for me since Paul left. I hadn't noticed until Nina pointed it out to me. "I'm making avocado toast. Do you want some?" she'd asked.

"No thanks, I'll just grab some fruit before class." I said while I packed my school bag.

"Why don't you let me cook for you?"

"What do you mean?"

"We only eat together when we go out or when we're both on campus for lunch. You always go to your room when I cook."

I sighed. "It's nothing personal, Nina, I promise. I'm just not very hungry right now."

Cooking with Paul was that thing that always made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. So while he was taking my dollar ramen, frozen chicken nuggets, frozen corn, and some other stuff and making it edible, I was just staring at him. He kept looking over his shoulder at me and smiling like he couldn't believe I was actually there. Or that he was actually back.

I was admiring his strong back and all of a sudden I was staring at his chest. "Bon appetit," he said as he sat a bowl down in front of me. Lo and behold, he had somehow made a gourmet looking bowl of ramen with the contents of my sad freezer.

I found myself smiling. "How did you do that?"

"I told you I'd make it special," he said before turning his back to me to fix his own bowl. "Why do I have a feeling that this is the first home-cooked meal you've had in a while?"

I took a bite. "Why do I have a feeling this is the first time you've cooked in a while?"

"What are you talking about?"

"It's a little salty, Chef," I joked.

His brows furrowed. "Shut up, you're kidding." He came to me, leaned over me, and took a bite out of my food.

I grinned. "I'm totally kidding."

He laughed a little as he rolled his eyes. Paul reached down to tickle my sides, making me gleefully squirm in my seat under his touch. "Oh, you've got jokes," he chuckled as he tickled me. I grabbed his hands, begging him to stop. When he stopped, I think we both realized how close we were too each other. I could feel his breath on my face. I could even count the dark specs in his light brown eyes.

Paul placed the most delicate kiss on my forehead. My eyes fluttered closed as I took it in. How did something like that say so much? "Eat your food, baby," he told me.

When he sat down in the chair across from me, he had his own bowl in front of him; it was twice the size of mine, but it looked tiny with his big frame looming over it. He took a few huge bites while I pushed my noodles around, taking small slurps. "You're right," he said after a while.

"What?"

"I don't really cook anymore." He sounded embarrassed.

"Why not?"

He shrugged. "Didn't feel the same after quitting school and what happened to Harry and joining the pack, you know? The guys have Rachel, Kim, and Emily cooking around the clock sometimes. I just didn't see the point anymore."

"Paul, you cooked because you loved it. Even now, you just took over my kitchen like it was nothing and you looked so at peace while you were doing it. The kitchen is where you belong, don't lose that." I said. "Dad wouldn't want you to stop cooking."

"Yeah, he'd probably pop me in the back of the head, if he was here," Paul said, laughing sadly. He shook his head in disbelief. "Three years…"

"Three years, six months, and four days since he died. Not that I'm counting…"

"Did it ever feel easier for you?"

"I always hoped it would. And then I would feel guilty for wanting for it to feel easier. That aching feeling in my chest never went away, I just learned to live with it."

Paul didn't say anything. He just looked at me with sad eyes.

"I still talk to him everyday though," I told him.

"Really?"

I nodded. "When he passed, I kept waiting for him to show up in my dreams or something. And it just never happened that way. So I just talk to him. Out loud. When I'm on my way to class or when I'm doing my makeup or cleaning or something. I tell him how much I miss him and that I hope he's comfortable up there. I think it helps me make it feel real…it makes me feel less guilty about not coming home."

He didn't say anything again and I really felt it that time. But I didn't need him to. I could see what he was saying with his face. He was saying that he understood…but that he didn't. He didn't understand how I could just abandon my family and lifelong friends. But he understood that my dad's death was easily the hardest thing I will ever go through in my life.

So we finished eating in silence. Right when he was cleaning up our bowls, I heard Nina's door click open. She peaked her head out with a sleepy and confused look on her face. She spotted Paul and her mouth dropped. "Is that Paul?" she mouthed to me. I nodded, before waving her off. She stared at him for a second before she gestured her arms wide. "He's huge!" she mouthed again.

"Go back to bed," I mouthed back.

"Hi Nina," Paul said with his back turned. Wolf ears.

"Hi Paul, honey," she grinned. "It's been too long."

"Way too long," he smiled over his shoulder. "You hungry?"

"No, no," she said. "Carry on. Goodnight."

"Night, sweetie," I said before I heard her door click closed.

I'd see a text from her later that would say, mama, you better tell me EVERYTHING when he leaves!

Paul came around and held out his hand to help me stand. He didn't even think about it; he's always done that. But he let me lead us back to my bedroom. I kept it dark, lit some candles, and then watched as he settled himself in my bed with his back against the headboard again. He patted the spot next to him.

Next thing I knew, I was laying down, facing him with my head in his lap. It's so weird how things slip right back to the way they were. It didn't seem to matter how much time had passed. "You know Seth and Sue miss you a lot," he said. I nodded. "He asks Rachel about you all the time."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I don't know what to say to him anymore," I admitted. "It felt like all we could talk about was Dad and I just couldn't do that anymore. It hurt too much."

"I get that, Lee, baby, but he's your brother."

"I know…"

"You shouldn't take them for granted, Lee. You got lucky with an incredible family. Losing one of them shouldn't mean losing all of them. Some people kill for a family like yours," he said, his face drawing more and more serious. I could see everything turning over in his head; everything he felt, he wore on his face like a map to his soul.

And that sadness in his eyes made me realize… "They came back."

When Randall and Diana left, I watched Paul go through the five stages. And then he really started to shine when he accepted that they were gone. He was happier, freer than I'd ever seen him. For years, he hid how much it broke his heart that his biological parents would never love him in the way he deserved.

Right now, I was looking at that same broken boy that came to my house, cried, and said to me, "I don't know what I did to make them hate me so much."

Paul stared straight ahead as his face stoned. "All they wanted was more money," he said. "They still looked at me like I was 12 years old. Like I meant nothing."

I reached up to caress his cheek. "Honey, they've never been capable of love," I told him. "Resentment and hate has always fueled them. That's not your fault."

"I still don't get it…" he shook his head. "Of everyone in the world…why did I get stuck with them?"

I thought about his question for a long time. No one deserves to be treated the way his parents treated him. Seven billion people in the world…what was the answer? "I don't know, honey," I said. Then I sat up until we were face to face. "But what I do know is that you were meant to be loved. By my family, by our friends…by me. You were meant to love us too. Because your heart is—and has always been—the most beautiful part of you. And you will show them that you're greater than anything they can offer you."

He stared at me, unblinking. I kept his gaze for as long as he would allow. I wanted to see if he would shut down like he used to. But he didn't. Instead, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. A moan escaped my mouth before I could stop it, making him growl just a little in his chest. Paul wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled until I was straddling his waist.

I became aware of how little clothing I was wearing as his hands slipped up the back of my shirt. His shirt. I can't tell you how much I missed kissing this man. His lips were like two warm pillows and his arms were the blanket. He always covers me head to toe with his love. It was the purest thing I'd ever felt.

He was kissing down my neck when I heard my phone start violently vibrate on the nightstand. Paul looked toward it, but I pushed his face back to mine, capturing his lips again. "Just ignore it," I whispered. To be honest, my heart dropped at the sound. And the fact that it was still vibrating. Because it was call after call after call. And you already know who it was.

"What if something's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing's wrong," I shook my head, running my fingers up his shirt. "A couple of people are just upset with me because I left a trip early, that's all."

"Upset enough to call you 10 times at 3:30 in the morning?" Paul asked. He grabbed my hands to stop me from taking his shirt off. He was searching my face for an answer. "Who is it?"

I sighed loudly, dropping my head. My ears were ringing a little bit as I worried about what he was going to say.

"Hey," he lifted my chin. "It's just us. You can be straight with me."

My heart was beating hard. "No bullshit?"

"No bullshit, Clearwater."

I nodded before climbing off of his lap. My phone was still ringing off the hook. "Nina and I went to the Hamptons with Ava and Adriana…and Julian Gerard."

"…oh."

I nodded again lamely. "Yeah…" I said, even lamer. "Adriana decided we all needed to do a summer house and Julian said we could just stay with him instead of spending tons of money to rent a house. It felt like a good idea at the time; I wanted to get out of the city. I even thought bringing Bex and Rach out for a weekend would get me feeling myself again. And it all just…backfired."

"Backfired how?" His eyebrows drew together. "Did he hurt you? I'll still fuck him up—"

"Ok, relax," I laughed a little. I crossed my legs in front of me. "We were supposed to be doing this photo shoot together, kind of like the summer before we moved here. He fed me a crock of shit about how he was going to introduce me to his industry friends and how I would co-direct this shoot. And then the day of the shoot, he threw a fucking hissy fit and disappeared so I had to do it all myself. Which was fine. The photos are incredible…"

"So what's the problem then?"

I felt myself getting upset again. "They were apparently so incredible that he took credit for the entire shoot and pretty much pat me on the head and said 'shoo, little girl.' It was humiliating. That's when I left that voicemail…which was also really fucking humiliating.

"God, you should have been there. All of these rich white men talking about how much money they were going to make off of the photos that I busted my ass to take. Literally busted my ass. I fell on a rock trying to get a shot and now I have a bruise on my left cheek! And it was for nothing. I…I should have listened to you so long ago. I should have stayed away from him, both of them actually. Adriana looked at me like I was the enemy for speaking up. She's been in his pocket this whole time." I paused as I felt the tears sting my eyes. "And I knew that! I literally saw with my own eyes that she would always be his friend more than mine and I still…"

I dropped my face in my hands. Mostly because I was feeling embarrassed to be saying this to Paul. Partly because I hated that I let it all happen. I buried my grief in lunches at Soho House and vacations I couldn't afford and friends who were barely my friends. Except for Nina, of course. I couldn't shake this thought that my father would be so disappointed in the person I was. The person I was trying to get away from.

Paul grabbed my hands so that I would look at him. "It's not your fault," was all he said.

"It is."

"No, it's not," he shook his head. "People like Adriana and Julian are opportunists. They've been plotting something like this since the day you came around, I bet. You're smart, you're driven, you have everything going for you. You walked into that penthouse that day and took better shots than he could even come up with. All they saw was untapped potential and someone who didn't know how good she was. It's not your fault, Leah, it's them."

I knew he was right. I bit my lip to stop myself from crying. "I just thought…"

"I know."

You always think you'll handle it differently until you're in it. You think that things like this won't happen to you. That you would never let another person treat you this way. And that you would never ever be so complacent in your own life that people would think to take advantage of that. "Bex stole all of his memory cards…" I told him, feeling a hint of a smile grace my face. "That's why I'm getting all of those calls. I'm guessing they figured it out."

"All of them?" he smirked.

"And wiped his computer."

He chuckled as he nodded, impressed. "That damn Bex is always one step ahead."

We sat quietly for a minute. I squeezed his hand. "You know, I meant what I said," I told him, "in that voicemail."

"Which part, baby?"

"You made me better," I said. "Whatever you see in me, I never thought I'd be able to see in myself."

"I could say the same about you," he said earnestly. "I was at my best when we were in each other's lives. Being without you…I never want to have to be without you again, Leah. I mean it."

He kissed me again, softer this time. I wrapped an arm around his neck to play with his hair. His amber eyes were so tired but so full of love. "So come back," I said. "Please come back to me. I've never needed someone so bad. I would give anything to make things different, to do things better. To be better for you. Please just…come back."

He was already shaking his head. "I can't do that."

"Yes, you can."

"No, Leah, please—"

"Paul, it's been three years—"

"You know it's more complicated—"

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't miss me too!" I said, talking over him.

"Of course, I miss you!" He shot up from the bed. "It's not about that!"

"Then what is it? Why won't you come back?"

"This wolf thing doesn't just go away if I come back to New York, Leah!"

I froze where I was. Oh my god, I was caught up in him being here that I hadn't even thought about how constricted he would feel here again. No where to just phase and run until he got tired. How much of himself had he had to suppress to be here with me?

"It only got more complicated when you left," he said, shaking his head. "Fucking wars with newborn vampires, the pack split into two, and that girl got herself knocked up by her now vampire husband. You have no idea the shit that's been going on back home. If I could turn it off, I would, but I can't! I don't know how to!"

I crawled out of the bed and up to him. "Ok, ok, ok, I'm sorry. Hey," I tried to grab his face. "Look at me. I'm sorry."

"You just don't know…"

"You're right, I don't know," I agreed. I put my hands around his waist. "I didn't mean to upset you. I don't want to fight you just as much as you don't want to fight me. So…tell me."

"What?"

"Tell me everything. The good, the bad, the ugly. I want to know. I want to understand. Please?"

Sometimes it takes something as little as someone wanting to hear you that makes the difference. His entire body relaxed at my words. I'd never seen such relief from him.

Then I was listening to 1,000 days worth of adventures. Hardships. Heartaches. He looked like he loved it as much as he hated it. Doesn't that sound familiar?

I was lying on my stomach at the foot of the bed while he was sitting on the floor in front of me with his feet crossed. The candlelight lit his face just right. "So, wait, Jacob Black is you guys' rightful Alpha or whatever?"

He nodded. "Sam decided to come back to the pack and he came with demands out the ass. We all got sick of it pretty fast. He wanted to challenge Jared and Jacob for the spot. It was medieval shit."

"Why would he even want it after everything that happened with him triggering you?" I asked, fascinated. "The Council would never allow that."

He snorted. "Yeah, the Council ain't what it used to be. Now that Harry's gone, they barely have any say so on pack stuff. Your mom tries to help, but it's pretty clear that Harry really invested all of his time in the Council. Anyway, after Sam started spewing some bullshit about how Jared and Jacob can't control the situation with the Cullens. And saying that we needed to kill Bella's baby before it becomes a threat to the world. Yes, the whole world. It was out of control."

"Whoa," I breathed. "Then what happened?"

"Jared tried to Alpha order his way out of it. He ordered both of them to stand down and Jacob broke submission. He said 'I was not born to take orders from any of you!' And he ran off. Seth took off after him and I wanted to look out for Seth so I left too. It was kind of fucked up to be defending the family that's partially to blame for Harry's death, but, um, it was better than being on the side where everyone seemed to be on a homicidal rampage. Killing a baby? Hell no."

My heart warmed. "You left to look after my brother," I repeated. He nodded and shrugged. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he winked. "He's a good kid. Well, I guess he's not a kid anymore. He gets a little too excited though about getting in the action. I…" he trailed off. "Sometimes, it feels like protecting him is the only reason I stay in."

We didn't say anything. I could see how hard it was for him to admit that. "What would you do if you could get out?" I asked. He met my eye as if I already knew the answer. "Excluding me. Just for you. What would you do?"

He let his head rest on the wall behind him as he thought about it. "Go back to school," he started. "Maybe open my own restaurant somewhere with some sun. Sometimes I just run to California and I'll stay on the beach for days. I actually came across this house in Santa Cruz with a for sale sign on the porch. And my first thought was, 'Leah would love this house.' It was beautiful, right on the water, big windows like you always used to talk about. Plenty of wall space for your art; the kitchen was small, but pretty spectacular. I considered buying it, but…I changed my mind. Things were too crazy back home. And I didn't want to be in that house by myself. So I went home."

All of those words and all I could hear was, "So you're ready to get out," I concluded.

"I would if I could."

"You should."

"Oh, are we rhyming now? Fun game," he said, a little frustrated. "This is a lot more serious than just leaving. I made a commitment to keeping our grounds safe. To keeping people safe."

"But who's making that same commitment to you?"

He was getting frustrated again. He didn't think I understood. Maybe I didn't. Maybe me being human was making me ignorant to how high the stakes were.

Maybe me running from home made it impossible for me to really get it.

He sighed loudly as he stood up. "Maybe I do need that shower…" he mumbled. "I need to cool off."

"Paul—"

"Please just give me 10 minutes, ok, Leah?"

He closed the bathroom door behind him and a few seconds later, I heard the shower running. I smacked my forehead a couple of times, muttering to myself, "God, you really are an idiot."

I rushed around my room, blowing out my burning candles and turning on my bedside lamp. We were fighting about the same thing. We were feeling the same thing. At that moment, I don't think either of us realized what we needed from each other.

To be heard.

I'm not just talking about listening to each other. I'm talking about understanding each other. The same way I understood that he needed to be surrounded by people that love him when his parents left. Or when he gave me more time to see Dad before they closed his casket at the funeral.

Time was being wasted not understanding each other. It wasn't enough that we wanted to be together. It felt like so much more.

The dread was setting in my body, stopping at my knees, almost crippling me. But I knew what I had to do.

I opened the door to the bathroom, undressing. He was standing with his hands on the wall as the water beat down his back. As I stepped in with him, I could feel my heart squeezing in my chest. I wrapped my hands around his waist and laid my face on his back. "We're not ready…are we?" I asked. I was listening to his heartbeat and his steady breathing.

He turned around to face me. He kept running his hands through my hair under the spray of the shower. He sighed, "No, baby, I don't think we are," he admitted.

"Ok…" I whispered.

After we sat in the shower until the water ran cold, we spent the rest of the night in bed. Just looking at each other. I didn't want to fall asleep because I didn't want to waste any more time. Every minute, the room lit up more and more with the rising sun. Once we could hear the birds chirping, it wasn't long until the usual New York City traffic started to sound. Only it didn't feel exciting anymore. It was almost haunting. The feel of the New York City electric buzz had worn off forever in just that second.

Paul took my hand in his and placed it over his heart. "It doesn't matter how much time passes," he said, "it's always going to be you and me." My eyes filled with tears as he pressed a long, lingering kiss on my forehead. "It's ok that it's not right now, baby," he whispered. He tilted my face up so he could wipe my tears. "I know we'll be together for the rest of our lives, Leah. I feel that more than I feel the spirit of the wolf inside me. We'll find our way back to each other; we always do."

"I don't want to wait another three years," I told him. "I don't want to say goodbye again."

"Then let this be the last time we say goodbye. Because the next time I see you, I'm not letting you go."

"You better not," I breathed before leaning up to kiss him one more time. He pulled me flush against his body and I could feel his heartache just as much as I'm sure he could feel my desperation.

He held me until I fell asleep. And when I woke up, he was gone with a letter in his place.

To my Leah,

I couldn't handle the thought of seeing you cry again while we say goodbye. So I thought this would be better. Or maybe I'm just scared. It's definitely that…

When you called, it was like you knew how much I'd been missing you. There was something inside me that was pulling me back to you already. And then I heard your voice and nothing else mattered except getting to you. Holding you again. Looking into those beautiful eyes again.

But I have to go back. I know you don't understand. I know you'll be upset. But please don't cry. You are still and will always be the best thing that has ever happened to me.

Leah, despite how it feels right now, you have built something incredible for yourself in New York. You make me so proud with everything you've accomplished. Please keep going. Finish strong. For me. For Sue and Seth. For Harry. This is where you belong right now, and I belong on the Rez.

It's not forever. It's never goodbye. I'll always be here cheering you on until you're ready to come home.

I love you still,

your Paul

We would still exist for one another in some way while we were apart. A week after he left, I sent him a brand new set of chef's knives with a goofy card that said "don't be stupid, just do it." It had a picture of a cupcake on the front.

And a week later, I found a box on my doorstep that contained a Lazy Cook cookbook, a pencil holder that was shaped like a camera, and a gift card to the camera store I loved in the neighborhood.

Paul and I didn't talk much. Eventually, I saw a follow alert on my Instagram from LahotetheWolf24 and then a bunch of likes on my old posts. I felt better knowing that he was out there, still my person. Still who I had always loved. It made living without him every day easier. I always keep his words in the back of my head. It's not forever. It's never goodbye.

Don't worry, we'll see him soon enough.