Chapter Three

And like before, you've got no interest in the life you live when you're awake.
Your dreams still follow storylines, like fictions you would make.

- Epilogue, The Antlers

Bella stormed out of the station in a huff, fishing in her bag for the keys. She walked into a pole, said something very unlike Bella and stopped where I was staring vacantly at the car park.

"What happened to you?" I asked.

"Where did you go?" She asked at the same time.

I laughed as we got into the car, "I was just talking to Houghton. Weird, but I think he's a werewolf."

"What!" Bella gasped, "Why would you think that?"

"Just something he said. I thought you had to be born on the reservation to be a werewolf."

"Maybe he was," Bella shrugged.

"What had you leaving in a hurry?" I asked as we pulled out of the car park.

Bella glowered at me. "Charlie asked if this trip he might get to spend some time with me "alone", without Edward."

I cringed.

"I just would have thought that after all these years he would like Edward a bit better then he does. He still doesn't think we're serious. I'm married to Edward! How much more serious could we get?"

There was no point denying it. Charlie was not good at hiding his feelings about Edward. I tried to tread carefully, but words started pouring out of my mouth water. "I think he knows you and Edward are serious. I think he knows how serious you are and it frightens him. I know the reasons why Edward is ridiculously protective of you, but Charlie doesn't know that. I'm sure that to a normal person, and your dad no less, Edward could probably come across as a little bit -" I searched for the right word, " - controlling?"

Bella gasped, "That can't be it. Charlie doesn't think Edward is abusive!"

I shrugged, feeling I had gone too far, "Maybe he just wouldn't like anyone you were dating."

"That's not true. He thought Christmas had come early when you and Jacob were dating." Bella mumbled.

"But I'm not his real daughter." I pointed out.

Bella slammed on the breaks, bringing us to a skidding stop as my body slammed against my tight seat-belt.

"Bella!" I exclaimed, as we sat unmoving on the main street.

"Would you please stop saying things like that!" She said, turning to me in frustration.

"What things?" I nearly shouted. I could feel an angry coil winding up inside of me.

"Oh poor me! I have no family left. Charlie isn't my real dad. Bella isn't my sister. I'm all alone."

I recoiled as if she slapped me, hurt and anger swirled in my chest.

"We might not be blood related, but to us you are part of our family. I'm sick of you always telling me that it means nothing to you."

"Oh please, don't pretend like I'm leaving you and Charlie out in the cold. It's you and the Cullens now and there's hardly space for me anyway. What will I be, the sad human pet? Something for you to snack on when you're hungry?" My voice was dangerous, heat running to my face.

"You wouldn't be the awkward third wheel in my life if you had just stayed with Jacob, Leighton. You had a perfectly good life and family and you left them. The only reason you're alone is because you chose to be alone. Stop taking it out on the rest of us."

I was already unbuckling my seat belt as this point, furious beyond the point of reason. Bella's words hit me like bullets and I was bleeding all over the place. Anger and adrenaline was the only thing keeping me on my feet.

I threw myself out of the car and slammed the door, then opened the door again just to yell, "Fuck you, Bella." Then I was storming down the road, trying not to run. All I wanted to do was run, or get a drink, or find a stranger to pretend to, or tear something down. I was going back to New York. I should never have come to Forks.

I went to the market and purchased a bottle of vodka, the clerk giving me a peculiar look, taking in my blotched, tear stained face and the bottle. I recognised him, I think I knew everyone in this town, and I could tell he wanted to strike up conversation but thought better of it. For some reason that just made me even more angry. I was sure that everyone who lived in Forks and on the reservation knew every intimate detail about Jacobs and my break-up.

There was no car hire in Forks. The only thing close was a U-haul hire place. Mr Murphy seemed surprised to see me.

"Moving back or finally packing up that house of yours" he asked me as I paid for a weeks hire.

I didn't need it for a week. I was out of here tomorrow. But it might take me that long to find someone to drive it back from Seattle for me.

"Packing up the house," I said. It seemed like a good time to get it done. Just not tonight, not when Bella and Edward would be across the road at Charle's for dinner playing happy family. Tonight, I was going to try to forget I ever existed.

#

I found myself driving my U-haul down the familiar road to the reservation. I knew it was dangerous territory, but where could I go that wasn't dangerous? Everywhere held memories that I didn't want to think about anymore. Everywhere was a reminder that this was just some deranged dream of mine plucked out of a fiction book.

I parked at Rialto beach among the driftwood, the greyness of the scenery doing nothing to life the depression I was slipping into.

I lugged my handbag and some of the moving blankets down the beach, which was deserted as the temperature dropped close to 35 degrees and the air began to change, pregnant with the promise of rain.

I knew that I should turn back, as the skin on my exposed hands and face began to prickle with numbness. I picked a semi-sheltered spot amongst the driftwood, burying myself in the thick, itchy blankets. I pulled out my bottle of vodka and took a swig, cringing as it burned a trail down my throat as Bella's words burned a hole in my chest. I watched the waves crash into shore as the weather began to turn bad. I was angry, with no real idea what I was angry at. I held onto the feeling anyway, nurtured it with dark thoughts. The vodka slowly lost its burn.

My phone rang. It was Edward, the fourth call. I declined it with the, "I can't talk right now" option, because technically, it was true. I was sure if I opened my mouth to speak only incoherent slurs would come out.

I didn't want to face him. I was sure I had hurt Bella's feelings, I don't know why I suggested that Charlie thought Edward was abusive. It was a cruel thing to say. Why did I always seem to hurt the people I loved? I was a ticking time bomb, doing worse damage then anything else they'd ever encountered. I wanted to leave this world better then if I hadn't been in it, but how was that possible? They were always going to get a happy ending, I could have only done harm here.

As usual, alcohol brought out all the dark resentments I harboured for my unconventional life.

Why am I here? Why am I here? Why am I here?

The thought beat through me like a drum, demanding an answer I couldn't find.

I rested my head against the piece of driftwood that was keeping me upright. I felt wretched.

I must have passed out. When I came to, all I could do was roll over to vomit. I couldn't see, and I didn't know if it was because it was pitch black or because my vision was spinning. I crawled out of the blankets, already soaked through, but not feeling the cold. I packed up my things, shoving the bottle into my bag. Had I really had that much to drink? My hands somehow found my phone but it was dead.

I struggled to my feet, tripped, struggled up again, using the driftwood as support.

I walked blindly, my feet sloshing in the water. The tide had risen. I fell to my knees, freezing, not feeling it. I wiped my tears. I felt the pebbles cutting into my knees and relished the physical pain. I had made so many mistakes, seemingly one after another, sometimes the same mistake again and again. I'd never felt so low - I could pretend I was OK while I was in New York, but I couldn't seem to hold it together here, in the place where it all seemed to begin and end.

I cried, sobbed, was sick again. I tried to get out of the water and couldn't, didn't want to. Could I die in a dream?

I could walk out into the ocean right now and end all my suffering. It was tempting. I was ashamed to admit how tempting it was. I tried to breathe but couldn't seem to get air in. I was blacking out again, I could feel the darkness creeping in around the edges of my spinning vision. I wanted to put my head down and rest. Where were my things?

I was pulled up by strong arms, not gentle, but not unkind.

"Come on Leighton, let's get you up." Jacob's voice was rough, a little deeper than before, but I would have known it anywhere.

I recoiled from him, or tried to. When I saw him, I wanted to be put together. I wanted to be able to bear it.

His large hands gripped my shoulders, burning through my dripping t-shirt. My coat had disappeared. I could barely feel my body.

He gave me a small shake. "You're freezing."

"It had to be you, didn't it?" I finally managed through my chattering teeth. I could almost make out a half smile. He was exactly the same, but different.

"It had to be me,"

He picked me up, and I instinctively curled towards his bare chest. I was cold, his warmth barely touched the surface.

"You've got a lot of leeches worried." Jacob said finally.

"I bet you're enjoying this," I mumbled. I felt him chuckle.

"What's there to enjoy? My ex comes to town and writes herself off on vodka and nearly drowns?" He seemed so calm, collected. The casual way he referred to me as "ex" hit me in the heart. What had I expected? That after five years we'd finally have the confrontation about our feelings that I so drastically avoided? That he would still feel the same? We had been apart much longer then we had ever been together. Our time relationship just a blink of the eye in the what would be a very long life.

"I was stupid. I didn't expect you to be so... OK." His warmth was getting through to me now, his steps lulling me.

Now he did laugh, a warm, musical sound filling my ears as my last thread of consciousness faded.