Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Thanks to my amazing beta Lemon-of-the-tent for all her work with my story. She's pretty awesome.


It was over a month before I heard anything really substantial from my lawyer again.

Jacob hadn't returned since that first night, though more than once I heard his tortured howls break through the otherwise silent darkness. I stayed in my room mostly, miserable but progressively less miserable each day. Most of the time I would just read; Renee had been sending and e-mailing me information about college programs in Florida. It seemed like that would be my most likely option.

Seth was the only one from La Push that chose to visit me. He would come to the house and interrupt my self-imposed solitude. He would sit on the floor, leaning against the side of my desk or sprawl across the foot of the bed forcing me – by the simple proximity of his over-grown limbs – to stop moping and pay attention to him. Sometimes he would sketch; sometimes we would just talk about nothing. He simply kept me company and I appreciated it more than I ever imagined I would. Just by him being there, I was reassured that I would at least get to keep Seth in my life. I knew there would be consequences for leaving the pack the way I had, but if no longer being able to see Seth had been one of them I wasn't sure I would have ever been able to cope.

It was a Friday when the receptionist called and said my name change had gone through. That was the first moment since I'd returned from that first meeting that I didn't feel the crushing regret for hurting Jake. A new feeling was starting in me; something hopeful, something altogether new for me.

Charlie, off for the afternoon, was in kitchen cleaning out his sidearm when I announced I was headed up to get a new driver's license. He grunted in response but I saw the hint of smile as I went out the door. He tried to hide his feelings of worry for me about the whole thing; Charlie was so transparent though, he always wore his emotions, unabashedly, on his sleeves. It was reassuring to know he would begin to feel better. Of course, if asked, he would never openly admit anything. But that slight smile on my father's face told me enough.

It would have been far easier to go the license bureau in Forks but I was already the juiciest piece of gossip in town – there really was no point is giving anyone anything else to talk about. I had a nauseating feeling that the news of my name change back to Swan would be the hottest piece they'd had in weeks.

One hour away, the Port Angeles office was quiet and within fifteen minutes it was done: I finally felt like I was officially Bella Swan again.

I stopped and picked some lunch up for Charlie on my way back.

Somehow, I felt like a different person on the drive to Forks. Lighter somehow – it was an almost giddy feeling. Maybe I really could just pick up my life before I ever came here; pretend I moved to Jacksonville with Renee and Phil when I was 17. I could go to college, perhaps meet someone and maybe even marry again…

No. My thoughts halted.

Not that, never that.

That part of me was gone forever. The part of me that was even capable of loving someone enough for that was irrefutably gone. This farce with Jacob had proven that to me. If I had still been capable of that, it would have been with Jacob, but that part had been taken from me by my vampire Romeo, who thought he knew how my life should turn out.

Suddenly, in that single, crystallizing moment, I was furious. For the first time in all these years absolutely, all-consumingly enraged.

How dare he?

How fucking dare he? How dare he try to decide my life? It was my life.

I'm the only one who gets to decide what's right for me – I'm the only one who can make those decisions. What the hell gave him the right to take my decisions away?

Pay attention to the road, Bella

My heart slammed to a stop for just a millisecond. I could feel the blood rush from my limbs and the cold take its place. I skirted the center line and passed the oncoming car with a wail of horns as I swerved and centered myself in the lane.

That voice.

That damn voice.

Anytime anything was ever a little risky, that damn voice was in the back of my head, mocking me, reprimanding me like a spoilt child.

"Just shut up." I spat. I hated to admit to myself that I did pay more attention to my driving after that. There was a significant portion of me that wanted to go, the moment I finally left Forks, and find some vampire to turn me so I could spend the next century hunting down the owner of that godforsaken, velvet voice and prove just how wrong he was about everything. I would spend the rest of eternity yelling at him the way his arrogant voice had reprimanded me these past years. At least the voice in my head had no comment for that. I was so focused on my new found rage I didn't even notice the extra car in the drive until I walked into it on my way to the house.

The sleek, black Mercedes, like some sort of ghoulish phantom from my nightmares.

It couldn't be the same. This had to be some sort of strange coincidence, some karmic payback for all of my hate filled thoughts on the drive home. They couldn't be back. My life was just falling back into place; I had finally figured a solution to all the strife their departure had caused. This couldn't happen to me now.

I stormed up to the house hoping the fury I had evoked would be enough to carry me through this.


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