. . . . .
From the day Edward revealed to me what he was, I'd known he wouldn't age. That he'd stay perfect, flawless, young—forever. So it wasn't a surprise to me that he never physically changed. And, of course, it wasn't a surprise to me that I did. That I could look back at photos of myself from a year, a month before and see changes that I couldn't see day-to-day. But they were still there. My face had matured; now, I looked like a grown-up version of the girl I was when I first met him.
But what I hadn't expected was that I'd change in ways that would separate us in a completely different sense.
Sure, Edward was still able to change. Change his mind, change his hair, change where and how he lived.
He could learn new things, have new experiences and make different choices about his endless future. But he was slow to change, and it seemed to me that all he saw and did and learned simply reinforced who he already was, what he already wanted and the path he was already on.
It wasn't so simple for me. I hadn't lived for a hundred years. There was so much more I had to learn about myself and about the world. Maybe it was because I was mortal, or just because I was a true romantic at heart, but I found myself afraid that even more than my love for Jacob, it was this weakness—this changing I had no choice in—that would finally pull us apart.
I wanted to talk to someone, wanted to ask for advice. But who was there to turn to? Normally, I'd talk to a friend or my mom. But none of them could know the whole story—what Edward was, what Jacob was, the real and final implications of my decision—so their advice wouldn't be too useful. I wished I could talk to Alice, but it seemed that her conflict of interest would prevent her from really listening, and the chance that Edward would hear our conversation through her thoughts was more than I could bear.
So I decided to confide in Emily. I figured that she would be a semi-neutral source. Sure, she'd be on Jacob's side, but she was rational and kind enough to hear what I was saying.
. . . . .
The lights were on in Sam and Emily's kitchen, and I could smell something baking as I walked up the front steps.
I could also hear the raucous laughter of the pack.
I balked at the door, but Embry saw me and waved before I could make a quiet getaway. The group of boys turned around from their seats at the table, and Jacob jumped up to open the door for me.
"Bells!" He wrapped me in a hug and swung me in a half-circle so my back was to the room.
The guys snickered and Jacob's cheeks flushed.
"Are you blushing?" I teased, patting his cheek playfully.
He shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pocket, his eyes on the floor. Emily laughed and came out from behind the counter.
"To what do we owe this surprise visit?" She hugged me and then pointed to what had been Jake's chair. "Have a seat. Cookies are almost ready."
I fumbled for words, wishing I had called first. But Jake grabbed my shoulders and steered me forward to the table.
I sank down into the chair and he dragged a barstool over from the counter and settled in next to me. He draped his arm over the back of my chair, his fingertips lightly grazing my shoulder. Every time his skin touched my shirt, I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I could smell his soft scent mingling with the smell of dryer sheets, and I unconsciously leaned back to press his hand to my shoulder. In return, he leaned forward and breathed in the scent of my hair. I blushed and pulled away slightly. This wasn't exactly what I came for.
Trying to avoid distraction, I laughed along with the guys, chiming in from time to time and enjoying their company. It always surprised me that I fit in so well in Jacob's world.
Finally, as night was falling, Sam stood up and stretched.
"Ok, guys. Time for patrols."
The pack groaned in one single voice, and several of them grabbed for one more cookie before pushing back their chairs.
Jacob stood, his hand on my shoulder. He squeezed it gently once and then followed Sam out the door without a word, letting his fingers do the talking by brushing across the back of my neck.
"So what's going on, Bella?" Emily smiled at me knowingly in the fresh silence, her hands folded on the table.
I looked down and collected my thoughts. My heart slowed its pounding and I was able to concentrate on what I'd come for.
"I'm stuck, Emily. Just stuck."
"Between a vampire and a werewolf?" She grinned, but I knew she wasn't making fun of me.
"Ugh—yes. Why is love so hard?"
Emily reached across the table and patted my hands.
"Because we wouldn't value it so much if it were easy. It broke my heart when Sam told me he'd imprinted on me. I was grateful for his love, but I knew what it was doing to Leah, and what it would do in turn to Leah's and my friendship. I couldn't turn away from him, but there were many times I wanted to. I wanted it to be simple, you know?"
I nodded.
"But it wasn't. It couldn't be. So we fought through it together, and we became stronger because of it. If it had been easy, I don't think I would have learned so much about myself or Sam. I don't know that I'd trust him the same way. Or love him the same way, really. It was the struggling through it that proved to us that we wanted to be together—that we were good enough for each other."
My eyes met hers and I knew that Emily understood me and my situation like no one else could. Sure, she'd been on the other side of the equation with Sam; she'd been one of the two he'd had to choose between and the one he'd ultimately chosen. But she'd been through it, the same thing I was going through with Edward and Jacob. She knew, she understood and she cared.
I put my head down on the table and whimpered, feeling sorry for myself.
"The end result is better than I could have ever hoped for, and I'm sure the end for you will be the same. But I know that doesn't mean much in the moment. You just have to hold on and be strong."
"But Emily, Sam knew to choose you. The choice was made for him and he knew it was the right one. It's not like that for me. I have to make this choice without any help, and they're both so different. My life will be completely different depending on which one I pick. How do I know who is the right one? How do I know which life is the right one for me?"
Emily took a deep breath and looked out her kitchen window toward the woods.
"You know whom I wish you would choose, and you know how much they both want you to choose them. But you're the only one who can decide what's right for you, Bella." She took my hands in hers. "I'm not great at giving advice, but I do know this—you'll never go wrong choosing what makes you truly happy and fits whom you really are."
"That makes sense. But what if who I am changes depending on whom I'm with? I mean, I feel like one person when I'm with Edward and with someone entirely different with Jacob. What if I don't know who I am all by myself?"
She nodded. "Maybe you just need to take a break from both of them to find out who you are when you're not worried about fitting in or pleasing them."
. . . . .
So take a break is exactly what I did. I told Edward I needed some space, some time to think. I told Jacob the same thing. I stepped back, stopped making and taking phone calls and text messages, stopped going to the places I knew they'd be. I sat by Edward in classes as usual, but I didn't do more than make small talk like I would with anyone I sat next to.
As lonely as it was, it was also refreshing.
I read, wrote, daydreamed. I sang in my truck, walked in the rain and baked up a storm for Charlie. Before I knew it, two weeks had passed. Sure, I missed my boys. But I realized that I'd been missing me, too. Every waking moment and most of my sleeping ones were spent thinking about, worrying about, dreaming about, trying to please and trying to decide between Edward and Jacob.
I was no closer to figuring out which one I should choose, but it was becoming increasingly—and refreshingly—clear to me that I didn't need to choose either of them. Even if both of them ended up being the wrong choice, I'd be fine on my own.
. . . . .