Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
I still haven't forgotten how warm Jacob used to be, how any hug or kiss or touch would send scorching heat my way. He's been normal for a long time now, but he's still Jacob, my Jacob.
Today is my last. I keep thinking about how ortality used to scare me so much. Oddly enough, I haven't thought about it much in the past few decades. It's only now, lying on my deathbed, does the fear come gliding back inside me, begging to stop the cycle before it's too late. That little voice they call self preservation—only once upon a time, that little voice had been asking me to preserve myself in the deadliest way.
Suddenly, I'm freezing—where is Jacob, my Jacob? I know he isn't burning hot, like he used to be, but he's warm, and his heart's warm, and I need my sun. Of course, he's out, picking up some more painkillers for me.
It wouldn't be surprising if the cold was all my own. Afterall, aren't corspes always ice cold? Still, I find myself twisting my head towards the window, just to see if there could be an outside reason for the change in temperature.
There is.
The window, it's open.
And he's here.
Every inch of me freezes, stops working—he can't be here. He, he, he…
"I'm in heaven," I whisper, because how else could my angel be standing here?
He is just as young as he was seventy years ago. His pale skin, transculent, smooth, hard; his bronze hair, casually disheveled; his full lips, open speechlessly; topaz eyes…my angel is here, the cycle has ended.
"Bella," he whispers.
How funny it is, how completely surreal, to lay here in this shrivled, old body, and look up at him, perfect and beautiful, staring down at me as if not a day has passed since he's been gone. My breath flies out in shock as I stare at him, if this is some illusion, some trick of my mind to give me peace, I am okay with that, I am more than happy to except my pained mind's offering.
Edward.
"Bella," he says again, and his voice rises in excitement and pain. "I can go if you want . . . I know how strange this must be for you . . . how horrible, even . . . I just had to see you one last time . . . "
"Don't go!" I cry out, with more strength then I thought possible. My vision blurs and my head spins. I take a deep breath to calm down, waiting for the dizzy spell to pass. "How can it be you? You're not…really here?"
He chuckles. "I'm here," Edward promises. Slowly and carefully, he reaches out, and runs a hand through my hair. My heart quickens. "I'm really here."
"Oh, Edward," I gasp out, because somehow I sense that there's no time for disbelief. ""I can't . . . you're still young."
"Always will be," he says with a sad smile.
"Still perfect," I add.
"You are too," he murmurs, and almost as if he cannot help himself, he reaches out and strokes my wrinkled cheek. A trail of fire follows his ice-cold fingertips.
"You must be repulsed by me, " I manage to say, surprised that I even care, surprised that my dignity chooses now to rear again.
"You are as beautiful to me as you were when you were eighteen," Edward says, and somehow I believe him.
I feel my fever return, raging, burning me, soI reach out a shaky hand and pull back the covers, just a little.
"Please?"
Hesitantly, he folds back the covers the rest of the way, and slides in next to me. For a moment we lay next to each other, silent, and then I burst into tears.
"Oh, Bella!" He carefully takes me in his arms, wrapping himself around me. I lean my head on his perfect chest. We could almost be teenagers, he and I, if I close my eyes. We could almost be like before. "Weren't you happy?"
"Yes," I choke out. "I was, I am…I love Jacob. And our children. I was so happy. But Edward. . . I never stopped…loving you. It's a good thing Jacob falls asleep so quickly and so deeply..I know I murmured your name, every night, always."
"I still love you too," Edward says, and he presses his lips to my soft white hair gently. "I will always love you. Your happieness has kept me going these past years, love, I've never been too far away…"
"I want more time," I sob out, even though a tiny part of me prickles with happieness at this latest revelation. "Edward, I want two lives, I want to spend an enternity with you now, I want it to be your turn!"
"Ah, but that's the wonderful part about being human," he tells me. "You get one lifetime, and it's so much more beautiful then forever.
He strokes my hair until my sobs cease, and then, carefully, he kises my lips. His lips are freezing, the marble lips of my dreams, my silent wishes, my memories, my Edward.
And yet he pulls away quickly. "Your heart," he says, and I remember to breath. "Today's not the day to test it."
"But today's the last day," I whisper, and I kiss him again.
When we pull apart, breathing quietly to ourselves, he kisses my neck and my hair and down my arms. He breathes in my scent and stares into my eyes, making up for a lifetime—my lifetime at least—of loss.
"I really do hope you were happy," he says, and his sweet, cool breath touches my face. "You looked it."
"I know, "I say, and a soft smile reaches my lips. "And I was. I just . . ."
He silences me with another small, tender kiss. "Please don't let me make you regret things before its over," he whispers. "I'd rather leave before that happens."
I summon all my strength and grasp at his arm. "Don't."
And we're quiet for a long time, breathing together, holding each other, staring into each other's eyes. I don't know how he sees me and sees beauty, but there's not mistaking that look in his eyes, not when you know him like I do.
Slowly, I feel myself slipping into a sleep. It's nothing dramatic, nothing extraordinary, just a gently pulling, tugging at me.
"Jacob's not back yet," I say. He pauses, cocking his head to the left.
"There was a car accident," Edward says finally. "He's trying to find a way around. Are you okay?"
"Yes," I whiper, smiling. "Yes, I'm amazing. I think I've been waiting around for this, Edward, for you. And I hate to lose you again, but it's okay, if it has to end, I want it to be in your arms. I need it to be with you. And it is."
"It's only the beginning," he tells me.
"Don't try and follow," I warn him, as the need to sleep pulls at me harder. But I know that he will anyway. I don't have the strength to fight him, and maybe . . .
Maybe the afterlife can be my second life. Our second life. Jacob always said we were soulmates on Earth—what should have been without the unnatural. And so we were, during my lifetime. Maybe the next one—the forever one—will be Edward and I's chance.
Or maybe that's not how it works. I don't know. But I do know that right now, I trust him, me , us. It's going to work out in some way.
I tell him all of this, and he kisses me. "You are my life," he says, and I think back to that first night again, and every night after that, and how we could almost be young, him and I, laying here together. "You are my love. I'll see you again."
"Okay, Edward," I say. I stare at his angel's face, smiling, stroking his skin with my thumb as the blur of my vision begins and my heart speeds up, or maybe slows, I can't tell anymore. Somewhere, the garage sounds, Jacob is home.
"I love you," Edward murmur.
"I love you," I murmur. I feel my fingers cease, but I can still see him. Then he takes me in his arms, harder, and holds me close. I look at his face again, and, when my eyes drift shut, I let them, still seeing him, in my mind, my heart, my soul.
"Always…"
"Bella…"
"And forever…"
"Bella, my love..."
Nightime now, and he is kissing me…
I know she's gone before I open the door to the bedroom. It feels as if all the air has been sucked out of my lunges. I walk inside.
He's there, gently lifting her, off him, a look of agony etched on his face. He looks up, and meets my eyes, I've already started to sob.
"It was peaceful," Edward says softly.
"You…"
"It was natural," he says, only he's watching her, and not me. "She's only human."
I rush to her side, the tears falling, as Edward moves silently out of the way and climbs up the window.
"Jacob," he says, and I turn. "Thank you for taking care of her. I know she was happy, unbelievably so. I cannot thank you enough.
I just nod.
He pauses, and then whispers, "She spoke only of you the whole time."
Without another word, Edward Cullen slips into the night, and through my tears, I smile down at my love, my soulmate.