. . . . .

Edward knew what he knew, it was too late to change that. And now he certainly knew I'd been sneaking around behind his back. Before, I had guessed that Alice was able to see through Jacob's presence enough to have witnessed some of my antics, and I was positive Jacob had taken every opportunity to exploit Edward's ability to see into his mind. I could just about imagine the movie he played for Edward every time the two were in close proximity. But now I knew for sure that Edward was on to me. The damage was done, and I couldn't undo it.

Strangely, there was a part of me that didn't want to undo it.

At first, I'd tried to cater to Edward, to tip-toe around his hurt feelings. But it was hard. I was bitter that he wasn't fighting for me. Twice, he'd walked away and left me to Jacob. In the woods, he'd all but told Jacob he'd given up on me and that Jacob had won.

And Edward wasn't making it easy for me to feel guilty, to feel the need to repent. In fact, after Jacob's little performance, Edward seemed calmer and more resigned to whatever happened. And there had been more than a few moments that made it almost seem like he didn't want us to happen anymore. Like maybe he knew for sure that we weren't going to be.

Worse yet, there was a bigger and bigger part of my heart and mind that kept urging me to just let go and be with Jacob already.

I shook off the thought whenever it hit my conscious mind, and I forced myself to think about my future with Edward as if there were no other option—I had made a promise to Edward and I was determined to honor it—but there was nothing I could do to dissuade the dreams that bombarded me when I was unconscious. From the time my head hit the pillow until my alarm rang in the morning, my head and heart screamed for Jacob.

The bitter taste of losing everything I thought I'd ever want mingled with the sweetness of these new and ever-stronger feelings I was having for Jacob.

Being torn in two directions was practically killing me.

. . . . .

"You don't want this, Bella."

Rosalie and I were the only ones in the living room, curled up on opposite ends of the huge leather couch with books in our hands.

"What?" I looked around, confused.

"This. To be like us. You don't really want it." Her expression was softer than usual, and she was squinting a little. "It sounds romantic, and maybe it is—to be with that one person forever—but this isn't natural. It isn't the way life should be. And I don't think the end result is worth the costs."

"What do you mean, the costs?" I leaned in, it wasn't often Rose and I had anything even remotely resembling a heart-to-heart talk. She usually just sniped at me behind my back.

"You know, all of the normal human things we have to miss out on, the danger of being discovered, the constant effort to look more human and less like stone. The children I'll never have. Our souls." She looked wistful, then stared at the carpeting.

Had Edward goaded her into talking to me?

I answered tentatively.

"But Rosalie, I don't know that I want all of those things—the children, the getting old, the dying."

"You may want your soul someday. You may find yourself wanting to move forward, rather than being stuck in this perpetual world of high school and pretending. Of course, there are things that are great about it, I'm not saying there's nothing worth considering. But I'm just never sure it's enough to offset the fact that I'll always be just this." She motioned to herself and dropped her hands to her side, her eyes sad. "Bella, if you realize you want more after you've already chosen…it's not like you can un-choose."

I nodded and gulped. I knew that, I'd always known that. But it was clearer lately, all the things I'd be walking away from.

She continued, "And you're leaving behind so much. Most of us, Esme, Edward, me, Emmett, we weren't going to make it anyway. Our lives were over. There were no messy explanations to family, or realistic regrets, because we were as good as dead when Carlisle found us. But you—you're different. You'll know you're saying goodbye. You'll know it's the last time you'll see your mother and your father and your friends. You'll forever know that you were the one who made the decision to take away your natural future and trade it for whatever this is. There will be no going back, and you will only have yourself to blame if you ever wish you could."

Only have myself to blame. No matter which I chose, I'd miss the other more than breathing. I'd break at least one heart. Probably two, if I could count mine. And I'd only have myself to blame. The story of my life.

. . . . .

I pulled up in front of my house and Jacob was standing on the steps. He had a single yellow rose in his hand, and he presented it to me as I met him in front of the door, my backpack heavy on my shoulders, my heart heavy in my chest.

I sighed, balking as I took the flower.

"Why are you fighting so hard for me even though he's already won?"

I knew this wasn't the reaction he was expecting, and his face fell before it became tight.

"He hasn't won, Bella. Not by a long shot. You're still you. And until you're one of them, he hasn't won."

I gritted my teeth and looked down at my shoes. Jacob had a point. While I was sort-of-secretly battling my head and heart over whether I'd truly chosen Edward, it was obvious that he hadn't truly chosen me yet. I was free to change my mind and he was free to change his until he changed me and tied us together forever.

Jacob stepped toward me and put his hand on my elbow. "Can't you see? I love you. I love you and I'm ready to tell everyone. Ready to make you mine. Now. I have no questions, no doubts. I know I'm perfect for you and you're perfect for me. Don't fight your feelings, Bella. Just admit that you love me."

I cleared my throat, ignoring his demand. "Why do you love me?"

He stood like a statue, his mouth slightly open and his eyes squinted in confusion.

"Why do you love me?" I repeated, slower.

"I'm so flawed. Such a mess. Everything about me is a total disaster. I'm not good enough for you, Jacob." My voice caught in my throat. "And definitely not good enough for you to waste your time chasing me when I've already given my heart away."

He grabbed both of my elbows, holding me uncomfortably tight and a little too close.

"What are you talking about?" His eyes were fiery and his voice was a near-growl.

"Nothing about you is a disaster. You're perfect. I love everything that's you, Bella. Your face, your voice, your sense of humor, your talent for cooking, your ability to trip on absolutely nothing. You're smart and beautiful and kind. I'd wait an eternity for you, even if you'd only give me an hour."

I shook my head and tried to pull to the side. His hands clamped down harder on my arms, and he pushed his face closer to mine.

"Don't tell me you've already given him your heart. You haven't—not totally. I can see it in your eyes. I can feel it. You thought he was the one, but your mind is changing. I still have a chance. I might even be winning." His eyes sparkled and the left side of his mouth ticked up.

Then his lips were on mine, crushing and soft at the same time. I tried to push back, but he didn't let me resist. I banged my fists against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me and stopped me from fighting back. His breath came heavy and fast, his whole body pressing mine, one of his hands pulling roughly at the base of my ponytail.

And in that moment, it didn't make sense to fight anymore. My heart wanted this as much as he wanted me, and I relaxed into his chest. I parted my lips and his softened, becoming less angry and more avaricious. His arm loosened around me, slipping to my lower back, where his hand found its place on my hip. His other hand curled into the hair at the nape of my neck, guiding my movements. I slid my hands up his chest and rested them on the sides of his jaw, letting the moment absorb me.

Suddenly he pulled back. He kissed me lightly on the nose and smiled his crooked half-smile at me. Then, with a wink, he was off, jogging into the woods.

I was turning to go back into the house when Edward's car pulled around the corner.

I couldn't help but smile, grateful for Jacob's stealth. I tucked the rose in my bag, waved and greeted him as if I'd just gotten home.

Then we took our places at the kitchen table and studied until late.

It was only as I was tucking myself into bed that I realized Edward could surely have smelled Jacob's scent all over me the entire evening.

. . . . .