Chapter Seventeen

Renesmee came home in one piece. She was cracking, but being in one piece was what mattered the most. If Jacob had broken up with her (was that the normal term?) a while back, she would have lost her way completely. She would have spun out so far that there wouldn't be a hint of a way back. She wasn't lost now, but she could feel herself heading somewhere she didn't prefer to be. She could feel herself shrinking while he was out somewhere already growing.

She entered the cottage quietly. Her mother was sitting on the couch, her nose in a book. It wasn't a real book this time. Bella had finally accepted the devices that could mentally present a novel to the reader without actually having to look or touch anything. So Bella's head was actually in a book, rather than her nose.

Bella blinked and stopped reading. "How'd it go?" she asked.

"He broke up with me," Renesmee said without hesitation as she plopped down on the couch. It was a mere fact, and they had only parted fifteen minutes ago.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, baby," Bella said. Renesmee leaned into Bella and rested her head on her mother's chest. Bella ruffled Renesmee's hair.

"How are you feeling?" Bella asked softly.

"It hurts so much," Renesmee murmured, tears forming in her eyes. "How could he do that? Did the imprint stop working? Why?"

"I don't think imprints ever stop working. They never stop working." Bella couldn't trust her own words.

"It just hurts so much. It hurts. So. Much. I don't know how long it'll be before we'll be together again. I don't know what I'll do without him. All I know is that everything hurts, Mom."

"It may hurt right now," Bella said, "but it's not always going to hurt."

"How do you know that?"

"Nothing lasts forever."

God, Renesmee thought.

The worst part was that Bella was right.

For the next few weeks, Renesmee killed a lot of time with Alice. Going shopping and sightseeing in a different city every week was time-consuming and distracting; sitting around the house with Bella was only more harmful.

Maybe that's why nobody wants to be around me, Bella thought, besides the obvious. Maybe I'm a bore.

In the mean time, Bella worked on not being a bore. She spent more time in the main house.

As it turned out, the other Cullens weren't as afraid for Edward's life with her around as they were afraid of her bitter disposition. Jasper had told Bella that herself. Nobody knew what she was thinking, or what she would do. She was like a ticking time-bomb to them. Nobody was fond of talking to her about it, either, apparently. Except Jasper. He understood the concept of being misunderstood. The last time he'd had an incident, he hadn't been ostracized, but he'd forced the entire family to move away. And he forgave Bella now, while Bella had forgiven him then. She just wished somebody had the courage to say that she wasn't at all dangerous, but it wouldn't happen. That was what bothered her the most: everybody just liked to let their problems sit out in the open, unacknowledged and tortuous. Waiting bothered her more than anything.

Bella talked a lot with Jasper during the day, and started talking with Edward at night. January didn't make for comfortable talks on the porch swing, so Bella and Edward often sat calmly in the cottage living room. It felt stuffy; there were too many memories of blissful times and horrendous times that she didn't like to think about. The last catastrophes haunted her every time she was in the cottage, especially with him. Hopefully they would move again next year.

She brought up the idea of moving as he sat in the armchair near the couch. It was the small talk that sustained them; the deep conversations were what got them into trouble.

"Where do you want to move next time?" Bella asked as sat on the couch. She had been reading a book (as usual), but it was boring now. She set it down and laid down on the floor, her hair fanned out across the soft white carpet. She stared up at the ceiling.

"Mmm," Edward said, thinking. "Somewhere warm."

"Is there any place in the world that's warm and not sunny?"

"I suppose you're right," Edward said. He then left his armchair and laid down next to her on the floor. Their heads were only inches apart, and she could feel that he wasn't nervous. Of course he wasn't. She was the nervous one. He made her more nervous than ever - it made her feel shameful.

"I sound selfish," he said. "If only such a place existed. Florida does sound really nice right now, though."

"Sounds perfect. Georgia sounds even better, though."

"Mmm. Georgia sounds like heaven."

"Any place besides western Washington in January sounds like heaven," Bella said.

"Washington hardly has any good qualities," Edward said curtly. "Weather-wise, at least."

"Not even the eastern parts?" she asked. "I thought you liked Spokane."

"I do, but it's not Georgia."

"I suppose," she said easily, "but I wouldn't knock Washington too much. It's where my best memories are, and maybe even yours, too."

"But get this," he said, being vacuous. "Winter is useless. It starts too early and ends too late. Why does anyone stay here?"

You're such an idiot, she thought. You're complaining about winter when you have so little winters left to live through. You shouldn't have changed in the first place if all you're going to do is complain.

"Sometimes you have to create your own summers," Bella said. She had attempted to sound poetic, but it actually came out pretty stupid. "Create them with the memories you have and the people you know. You have to live them out."

"I know how to live," Edward said.

"I know you do."

After months of traveling around the world in what Renesmee sometimes thought of as her endless world tour (in the style of her old man Travis, of course), she grew sick of it. Even though she knew she would come to nothing good at home, she knew she couldn't be out on the road forever. She'd see the world, done it all, and still felt empty. It was clear why she felt so empty: Jacob was out in the human world living, breathing, and growing. All she had done was go to fancy restaurants and buy new clothes, effectively shrinking back into the vapid, vacuous person she had tried so hard to stay away from. She hadn't been able to get him off her mind. He had her looking crazy all over again as he thoroughly haunted her, and she had done nothing to change it. She never had the power to.

Renesmee returned home with Alice on the first day of spring. Forks didn't look like it was ready for spring as there were snow patches in a few spots, but the sun shone brightly. Renesmee could start to taste summer.

She had been in the cottage all day since coming home, growing guiltier and guiltier by the second. She was home, but Jacob wasn't. She wasn't as bothered with the idea of him finding someone new as she was bothered with him simply not being here. She could live with that, just as long as he returned. She had found someone new a while ago, but she had returned because she knew what was better for her. She hoped he would see that and be reflective.

Renesmee fell asleep on the couch, and nobody had bothered to wake her up and go to her own bed. She woke up at four in the morning to return to her bedroom, but as she walked down the hallway, she faintly heard footsteps approach the cottage. Her parents now often spent their days and nights in the main house, though, so she didn't have a clue who could be coming to the house.

She went to the front door and opened it without looking through the peephole. She should have looked first, so she could stop herself from falling apart.

Jacob stood there on the porch. Renesmee's jaw dropped. They didn't say a word, though; all they did was go back to his car.

All that they knew was that they were heading south. Maybe they would stop in Portland, maybe in Los Angeles. Jacob drove, but he could barely keep his eyes on the road. He insisted on answering every one of Renesmee's questions while looking in her eyes, just the way she preferred it. His eyes were tired, but he was still beautiful to her. Possibly even more beautiful. His beauty didn't distract her too much, though. They both still knew that this trip could end in paradise or burning flames.

She tried to keep her questions casual so they wouldn't catch fire too fast. "Did you stay in one place?" she asked.

He nodded. "I tried Seattle," he replied, "but I didn't like it too much. I stayed in Portland most of the time."

"Was it far enough?" Did you stop feeling my pull? she thought.

"Too far." Of course you didn't, she thought.

"What about you?" he asked. "Did you go anywhere new?"

She shrugged. "I've been everywhere," she replied. "I went to a different city about every week for a couple months. Paris was my favorite, but I've been there a lot, anyway."

"Paris is the perfect city for you," he said.

"Why do you say that?"

"You're both beautiful."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Okay, who are you seeing now and why aren't you with her?" she asked.

"I'm not seeing anybody," he said.

"Because I swear to God," she went on, "if you're cheating on her right now I -"

"Ness, I'm not seeing anybody," he asserted.

She tried to keep her feelings together before she ruined them all by herself, but it wasn't working very well. "Alright," she said.

"Are you seeing anybody?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "I haven't seen anybody since we split up."

"Hm."

"How many?" she asked.

"Three."

"Three?"

"Three."

By the time they made it to California, they both knew they weren't going to burst into flames. It took Renesmee some time to get used to the idea of Jacob being with other people at some point, but she got used to it. (He still wasn't used to her and Travis ever being an item, but somebody had to budge.)

Driving down the California coast and going about ninety-nine miles an hour, she leaned on his shoulder and stared out the windshield.

"So do you have a type?" she wondered. "Now that you've been with other people?"

"What do you mean by 'type'?"

"You know," she said. "Good girls, bad girls, nice girls, mean girls… a type."

"Bad girls, then," he admitted. "I like bad girls."

"Is that true?"

"Mm-hm."

"So what made you come back to me?"

"You're the best that I've ever known."

"Even if I'm not that bad?"

"Even then."

"What constitutes as bad, then?" she asked.

"You know," he said. "Rides on motorcycles with older men, drinks a little bit, smokes cigarettes, occasionally wears leather. The usual."

"I've done all of that," she said. "What does that make me?"

"An exception."

"And why's that?"

"You know where your head is."

If only he knew how crazy she was without him around. He would never want to come back if he found that out - except he would. He would always come back.

"It kills me how natural all of this is," she said. "How we are together. Even though it probably seemed unnatural at first, we always fall back into each other. We always come back around. Isn't that crazy?"

"It's wild," he replied, "but I don't think I'd wanna change anything."

"Not a thing?"

"Not a thing."

A/N: Blah, blah, blah, fluffy Jakenemee arc, blah. It's all going somewhere, I promise. And for the anon: thank you. You're right. Everything keeps unravelling and it's not very good, which is bad on me as a writer. I aim to improve for my next story - a lot.

Thanks as always,

HS