It was an odd feeling, knowing that you were about to die. I wished that I could say that it was an unfamiliar feeling, but it wasn't. I hadn't thought about it much, not before it had happened. Before I had come to Forks, I hadn't given much thought to my death. If I had had a choice, the way I was about to go would have made the shortlist for acceptable ways to perish. If I had it all to do over again, I would have, and gladly. For when life gives you something so close to a dream, how can you not be grateful?
I felt the pain start to leave me, as though my body couldn't hold onto it anymore. It was something I wouldn't need for much longer. I wouldn't need this body or this world either. There was still so much that I wished that I had done, that I had appreciated. I wished that I could tell Charlie that he had made the last months of my life worthwhile, that he had done a great job at being my dad. I wished that I could tell Jessica that she was an amazing friend and I knew that she would grow into an amazing woman. I would just smile and thank Angela for being herself, and she would smile too. I would hug Jacob, wishing that I had done it sooner. I would tell my mom to be brave as ever and that it had all been worth it and that she shouldn't worry. And at that moment, I realized there was one last thing that I wish that I had done that there was still time for.
I reached up and touched his face, caressing his check.
"I love you," I whispered.
There was a jerk of pain, the reverse of a bite. And then, I could see his face, my Angel's face. The last face I would ever see. It felt like heaven to me. I smiled.
"It's okay," I said. "I understand. And I love you. Nothing you can do will ever change that. Even if you kill-"
"No!" he screamed. I felt sharp pressure against my neck. I didn't like it. I tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let me go.
"Oh, god!" he cried. Angels should sound like that, so full of grief and fear…
"What have I done!?" he screamed. "Carlisle! Help me! Please! Help her!"
There was a clatter of something by my head, and I realized that I was on the ground. The gray that my vision had been reseeded, staying to the edges. I could see some of the night sky and the buildings above me, but it was as though the part of my brain that knew how to find things in my field of vision was gone or that, maybe, I couldn't understand what my eyes were seeing.
"Her neck," he said. "I didn't bite deep."
"I'm ready," said another voice, and the pressure on my neck went away, only to be replaced by the sting of a needle. "How much did you take?"
"I'm not sure," said the Angel. "Too much. Please, help her!"
I was all too familiar with the sensation of stitching. It was practically a comfort. Reaching out, unsure how I did, I found a cold hand.
"Hold on, Bella," said the Angel, as my sight gray and the world began to fade. "Hold on…"
I lost time. I wasn't sure how much or for how long. The first thing that I realized was that I was warm. I felt safe. If I hadn't known any better, I would have said this was heaven. But I did know better. He wasn't there.
"Edward?" I mumbled.
"Oh, sweetie!" said a high voice. "Are you okay? Are you in pain?"
I knew that voice.
"Mom?" I said, my voice very small.
"You're okay," she said with a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness!"
I opened my eyes.
Of course. I recognized the hospital. I really was home.
"What happened?" I asked.
My mom smiled sadly.
"We were hoping you knew, sweetie," she said. "The doctor said that there might be some memory loss. It looks like fell and cut yourself?"
I wasn't about to explain. I didn't rightly know how.
"It's all a bit fuzzy," I said.
"Bella," said Mom, in the tone that I knew admonishment was coming after she was sure I was okay. "Why are you here?"
I grimaced.
"It has been days," she said. "Charlie is having kittens. What happened?"
I swallowed, and I began to improvise.
"Mike almost died," I said, thinking of the first thing that came to my mind.
"Jessica's boyfriend?" asked Mom. "Charlie didn't mention anything. He just said you took off."
"We were at the dance, and," I said, and I swallowed. It was a little painful, "I am not sure exactly what happened. There was a stabbing-"
"A stabbing?" Mom said sharply.
I nodded, and regretted it. That hurt too.
"He almost died," I said. "We weren't even sure if he was going to make it. And…"
This part I didn't have to lie about.
"Edward disappeared," I said.
Mom closed her eyes, as she did when everything settled into place in her head.
"I see," she said. "Did he have something to do with it?"
I looked at her.
"If he did," I said firmly, "it wasn't by choice."
She nodded.
"So the boyfriend who has swept you off your feet disappears at the most inconvenient time and you freak out and come home," she said. "I get it. You aren't out of the woods, my dear middle-aged child, but I get it."
She turned, and then turned back.
"I need to make a phone call," she said, "let Phil know everything is okay. You gave us quite a scare there Bella. Please, don't give me another one. I'm too young for gray hairs!"
She smiled and I smiled, and she opened the door. Turning back, she said, "I love you, Bella."
"I love you too, Mom," I said.
She closed the door behind her, revealing Edward.
I froze. He wasn't looking at me. His head was down, his eyes closed. He didn't speak.
"My family believes this is a bad idea," he said. "Mostly. But I needed to be here. I need…"
His voice trailed off. He sounded almost broken.
I wished I had had time to prepare for this moment. I knew what I had to say, but not how to say it.
"Why are you here?" I asked.
He looked up. His contacts were missing. His eyes were bright again, bright because, I deduced, he had fed recently.
"It is my retribution," he said. "I have wronged you."
I shook my head as slightly as I could, but it still hurt.
"I am as much to blame as you," I said.
He raised a fist, looking as though he very much wanted to hit something, maybe himself.
"This is not on you," he said, each word distinct onto itself and seemed to cause him physical pain to get out in a civil manner.
"It is," I said, gathering my thoughts. "I haven't been fair to you."
"How?" he said, as though he thought me utterly absurd.
I adjusted my blanket, realizing that I was wearing little more than a hospital gown and said blanket. It was suddenly at the level of my chin.
"I once told you," I began, "that I couldn't be in a relationship with a murderer. And you had proved, before my very eyes, that you were one. Not only that, but you openly admitted that it was the very definition of an addiction for you."
My mouth felt dry. But I went on. I had to.
"It was too soon," I said. "I didn't give you space to change. I burdened you with my expectations, that you should change for my sake, for the sake of my love and affections. We never should have dated."
Something fitted itself into my mind. This was the paradigm Alice was talking about. When I took it as truth, I was able to see more. Edward believed he had only two choices; kill me or make me a vampire. I truly could not be with someone who wanted to keep me just a bit more than he wanted to kill me. The recent events had proved that beyond all doubt. If that was true...
"Edward," I said, my voice firm. "As it is, there is no place for you in my life."
His face fell, looking shocked somehow.
"You are a murderer," I said. "Until that is no longer true, if ever, I want you to leave."
Those words felt so wrong, it felt like lying. I didn't want him to leave, but somehow, I knew that he had to.
He went vampire still. I wasn't sure if he was seeing anything of me or the room around him. He was no longer an animate thing.
I wanted to tell him that I believed in him, that I knew he could do it, that I had faith that we could be together again some day, but I knew why I wanted to say those things. I wanted them to be true. I wanted them to be correct and right, but they might not be. But for a few moments, too close to chance, Mike might have been dead, still may be. And I might have joined him.
And, for the first time, the truth of it all crashed down upon me. Edward hadn't just hunted me; he had genuinely tried to kill me. He had made the choice that being with me was too hard, and that my death was preferable to trying and failing. He had decided I wasn't worth being with.
Tears, angry and hurting, streamed down my face. And before I could stop myself, I spoke.
"You tried to kill me," I said, my voice broken. "How… how could…"
He moved. He turned, opened the door, and left. I caught just the barest hint of his face. He looked like a man tormented. And I had done that to him.
Moments later, my mom returned.
"Are you alright, sweetie?" she asked. "Does it hurt?"
It did, but I felt like I deserved the pain.
"I'm fine," I said.
"Why are you crying?" she asked.
I looked at her, "I'm in the hospital."
She looked at me for a moment longer.
"Okay," she said, looking like she didn't believe me for a second.
"How's Phil?" I ask, wanting to change the subject.
"Getting everything ready," she said, smiling in that I-can't-wait-to-tell-you-but-I-am-still-going-to-drag-this-out way of hers.
I shook my head, "Mom, I am too tired and in too much pain to-"
"He got signed!" she said happily. "No more running around, no more living out of hotel rooms. We are moving just as soon as we get a house. The house, really. It is this quaint little place, just off the beach. It is perfect! You will have your own room and everything. We should have everything settled, and as soon as the school year is over, or sooner if you like, we can move you back."
Back? Move back?
Something about that rubbed me the wrong way. I couldn't just leave.
"Mom," I said, feeling slightly desperate, "I can't just move back. I have a life in Forks."
Mom looked at me.
"Now, Bella," she said, actually sounding like a mom for once. "I know you love Edward, but this really-"
"This has nothing to do with…" I said, finding the name harder to get out than I would have thought, "him."
She looked more than a little surprised, "Oh?"
"I couldn't just up and leave Jessica," I said. "Mike just got hurt. And Angela, and Jacob. And how could I leave Dad?"
Mom looked shocked. I had started calling him Charlie because that was what my mom and my grandmother had called him, and they had both thought it was hilarious. Since then, I had sort of stuck with it unless I was actually with him. Mom had noticed the difference.
"I see," she said. She seemed to think about that.
"Are you ever going to move back?" she asked, sounding sad. "Bella, you are going to be eighteen this year! You are almost a senior. Are you ever going to live with me again?"
"Mom," I said, and, though it hurt, I scooted over, making space on the side of the bed which was the opposite side from my bite. She curled into the bed and let me put an arm around her.
"I know you're sad," I said, "but you always knew this was going to happen. If it happened this year or next, it will happen, and you will never think it was enough time."
She hiccuped a croaky little laugh.
"That's so true," she said, her voice as watery as her eyes. "I love you, my baby girl."
She kissed me. And I felt something twist in me. I loved my mother to death. I had really missed her. And like that, the damn in me broke. Tears came streaming down. My mother held me carefully as I held her, and I cried. I cried for the pain of it, for sending him away, for the time I had lost with her, that I would lose with her, for the childhood that was running on fumes, for the totally unknown future that was laid before me. I had no idea what tomorrow would bring. The one element that I so longed for was gone. My angel had flown away just as I had found him. It was over.