Chapter 14: Embrace
When I get home from therapy, I still need some time to process the stuff going on in my head.
I'm already calmer than I was when I stepped, or rather rushed, out that door. During the long walk, some of my rage, that I unfortunately directed at my therapist, is subsided, but I still feel very upset.
How can he talk about forgiveness, like a priest, when he hasn't got a clue what it's like to be raped by your brother and father for years? I forgave them when I was a kid, just because I didn't know any better. But now… I'll hate them until the day I die, even though it's bad for my fucking karma.
He likes to know what I want to say to them. I wouldn't say a word, I'd punch them until my fists are raw.
That was my answer a few hours ago, but the truth is different of course. If I would run into them now, I'd be paralyzed with fear and I'd turn into little scared Bella again, who can only run away to her sweet neighbor.
I drop into the couch and put my ear plugs in. Listening to sad music I feel more hopeless than ever, but in a way, I feel cleaner as well. As the bitter, hot tears run down my cheeks, like angry rivers, I feel as if I've been holding them back for far too long.
In a way, it feels right to feel like crap. If that makes any sense at all.
By the time Jacob comes home, my face is dry, but I'm sure my eyes are still swollen.
He looks at me and hesitates, but doesn't ask. I know he could easily pretend. I know his instinct is telling him to be the supportive friend, he's a good guy, it's a strong instinct. It hurts him that he can't be here for me in these times, but I need to go through this alone anyway.
That little second of hesitation is enough for me. It shows me that he still cares. Even when he decides to stay silent and start cooking, he never really ignores me. He doesn't really hate me.
The food he's preparing smells delicious, but I know I can't eat after therapy. If I would, I'd throw up anyway.
I listen to the sounds of him eating and then cleaning up. Usually, by this time, I've already gone back to my room, so he can have the living room to himself, but now I really don't feel like being between those walls. In a way, his sounds comfort me.
He's probably waiting for me to leave though, as he's taking a long time in cleaning everything up. Eventually, he steps out of the kitchen and gets in the couch, a little uncomfortable.
"Do you mind?" he asks, when he takes the remote, pointing it at the TV.
I shake my head and he switches it on. Usually, on Friday, we used to watch any kind of romantic movie, but now he settles on a sports channel.
I gather my courage to try and open a conversation, making sure to watch his reaction and figure out if he'd rather I disappear.
"How do you feel about the game tomorrow?"
He looks sideways, a little surprised, and then replies, "I'm not sure. Our team is confident, but the little ones shouldn't be underestimated. We're ready though. Will you come and see?"
"I wanted to yes, if you don't mind."
"Why would I mind?" he smiles, and I don't really have an answer for that.
He adds, "do you need a lift?"
It's sweet for him to offer to come back for me, since I know he usually doesn't come home the evening before a game.
I shake my head, "I enjoy the walks."
"It'll be raining," he tries again, with his familiar worried face. In a way, I enjoy seeing that expression. I never liked his worry, knowing that I didn't deserve it, but now I take any sign of care and drink from it greedily.
"Doesn't matter," I shrug, giving him a small smile.
To my surprise, he smiles back. "Always the tough one," he says.
"Standing from here, you wouldn't say so," I mutter and his smile vanishes.
I feel suddenly vulnerable and pull my knees up under my chin.
His kind eyes rest on me, they make me feel warm, and then he asks "how is therapy going?"
My first impulse is to tell him I'm doing fine, but then I remember I promised him to never lie again.
"It's still horrible. I don't feel any progress and my therapist is full of karma crap."
He thinks for a few seconds and then says, "maybe it needs to get worse before it gets better?"
I laugh and say, "that's what he says."
"Do you, um, do you want to tell me what's so horrible about it?"
I lean back and relax a little. Somehow his friendly gaze makes me feel less fragile. He always has that effect on me.
"He wants me to write a letter," I say, "not to put in the actual mail, just to pretend. I don't really see the point."
"A letter to who?" Jacob asks and I realize he doesn't really know what the therapy is all about.
When I don't answer immediately, he says, "never mind, that's personal."
Before his eyes are back on the TV, I quickly place my hand on his arm and say, "to dad and Edward. I promised you I'd be honest from now on, no more lies, I swear, but some things are still difficult to talk about."
"I understand," he mumbles, his eyes trained on his arm where my hand rests. I wonder if I should pull back, but if he stays motionless, then so will I.
"I guess I do see the point in writing that letter," I explain, "as a way to clear my own mind and get some stuff off my chest, but… I'm afraid it will be too hard."
"Maybe an attempt will be enough?" Jacob suggests.
"Yeah, he said that, too. During therapy we'll work on completing the letter, it doesn't have to be the end version yet, just a first try, but still. I'm so scared to even imagine a conversation. What if I get lost? Or like, trapped..."
I don't even know if my words are making any sense, how can someone be so terrified of their own past? But that's how it feels.
"I could help," he says, "I mean, not read it, but I could stay near you, when you write it. To make sure you find your way back."
My eyes tear up, not just because he suggests to be here for me, I know that's the urge he's been feeling all along, but also because he really does get me. He knows my fears even if I never shared any of it.
And instead of refusing, the way I always do, I whisper, "that would be nice, thank you."
A lone tear escapes my eye and he stares at it with a pained expression.
In an impulse, I take his hand and move his fingertips towards my cheek. I know he really wants to wipe it away.
Gently, he brushes the tear from my skin, but his pained look stays.
"It's okay," I say, "it's okay to still care. I'm a safe friend now, I'll never lie to you again."
Softly he replies, "that doesn't make you safe, Bella."
Gradually I understand what he means.
His heart is still on the line, he still loves me, too.
And I can't help myself.
While holding his hand in mine, I lean in closer to him and place my lips on his. He might push me away, he probably should, but he doesn't.
He takes a long shuddering breath, and then he's above me, gently pushing me down against the couch, pressing his warm lips on mine.
I feel the weight of his body on top of me and I could cry in relief. My arms wrap around his shoulders and cling to him desperately. He can't run off now, he can't change his mind. I saw it in his eyes, it's still there.
Slowly the kiss deepens and I feel his tongue slide against my lips. I hungrily open my mouth to let him in.
But instead of doing that, he pulls back and takes another long breath. "Don't go," he whispers, "stay."
I wasn't planning on going, and I was thinking the same thing about him, but I understand his anxiety. I've done nothing but run away from him ever since I moved here.
When I open my eyes, I see tears in his. There's so much love there, but fear as well. Because I already broke him and I could do it again. Even worse this time.
I don't answer, but he knows that I'm not going anywhere. He can tell by the way I'm pulling him closer to me, holding him right here, on top of me. I've never felt this before, not without being terrified. It's so much different than I ever imagined. He has complete power over me and I love it.
Maybe because I know he feels the same way. He's just as scared and relieved and confused as I am.
Softly, he moves closer again and his lips are on mine. This time he doesn't falter and his warm tongue brushes against my lower lip, asking permission to enter. My mouth opens and in return, my tongue finds it's way around his.
My belly is making a thousand back flips and I feel like catching my breath, but I don't let go. This is my Jacob, the only one I've ever loved, even when I didn't have a clue.
"Oh Bella," he breathes into my mouth. "You have no idea…"
I'm not sure what he means, but at the same time, I do have an idea.
When he leans back again, we both gasp for air, and his eyes stay on mine, searching for something.
"This doesn't mean…" he whispers, but he doesn't finish the sentence. "Oh, Bella, you shouldn't have told me right then."
I'm not sure what he's referring too, but since I'm no longer lying, I can honestly reply, "it's the truth."
He rests his head in the crook of my neck and breathes against my skin, "I miss you so much."
"Me too," I reply into his hair, "every second of every day. I'm so sorry. So sorry, Jacob."
"I know," he whispers back, "me too. For putting you on that pedestal and making you feel like you had to be perfect, just because I wanted to believe that."
I push him back a little, to look him in the eyes, and say firmly, "it's not your fault. This was all me."
"That part of you is not your fault either," he says and then kisses me again, desperately, as if he was suddenly scared our moment was over.
His hands move from my neck to my arms, caressing my skin, and our tongues are trapped in a delicious embrace.
My fingers dig into his back and his neck, pulling him close whenever he tries to lift his weight off my smaller body. He doesn't feel heavy to me. He feels like the safe blanket I've been craving for ages. Covering me.
"Let me sleep with you," he whispers, pleads almost, and then corrects, "let me sleep near you. Don't… push me away, not tonight, please."
He didn't need to beg. No way I was letting him go any time soon.
I nod and he kisses me hard again, I can almost feel the relief in his body.
I lose myself in this sensation, in the emotions running through me and in the sensual feeling if his lips and his tongue. Jacob fills me with warmth, he is warmth, and so am I, from head to toe.
His arousal is clear, but neither of us makes a move to take this any further tonight. We are both still too wounded.
When we catch our breath again, I whisper, "I'll never push you away you again. Now that I've finally opened up, I belong to you. I need you, Jacob."
He lifts his head from my shoulder to look at me, new tears swimming in his eyes at hearing my words.
"I've been longing to hear that ever since we were kids. You never needed anyone."
"I do now. I'm so scared."
All of the sudden, out of nowhere, I start to sob and pull him closer again. His weight soothes my shaking form and his arms try to wrap themselves in between me and the couch.
"It's okay, Bella, you can need me, I'm right here."
When the crying, for the millionth time this month, eventually stops, he pulls back again, and gently dries my cheeks with his shirt.
I feel ashamed and mutter, "I'm sorry."
"That's okay," he tells me reassuringly, "I'm scared too. Please promise me once more you'll never lie to me again."
"I promise. I'll try my hardest to be that Bella you always saw in me."
Jacob shakes his head. "No, you don't have to do that. I'll forgive you if you make mistakes and I'll take you as you are right now. Damage included. Just… don't lie. I won't forgive that anymore."
"I know," I nod. "I promise."
After another soft kiss, he gently lifts me up from the couch and carries me to my bed, just like he did many times before. Without changing our clothes, we get under the covers and lie down.
I have no idea what tomorrow will bring, how he will feel, how I will feel, but I don't want to talk anymore either. I've done enough talking for today.
And for the first time in months, I fall into a long and dreamless sleep, sheltered in his embrace.
AN: To the guest who told me Jacob is a coward, please stop reading this instant. Unlike my other readers and reviewers, you don't get Jacob or this story AT ALL. If you have ever loved a damaged person, you'd know that Jacob would be stupid if he wasn't scared. To all my other readers who still care about Jacob and Bella, I bet you are happy about this development ;) What do you think tomorrow will bring? Will this last? Should they talk about the lies or is it enough to leave it at this?