"Shame is a soul eating emotion." ― Carl Gustav Jung
Rosalie tells me a story of pain and loss.
As soon as the door clicks shut behind Sam, I wish for him to come back. But I know the tiredness seeping into my bones makes me poor company right now. That's why it's surprising Rosalie wants to talk to me at all.
The words that flow from her mouth shift the perspective of my reality all over again.
I learned about the Great Depression in school. You hear it all of your life, but to hear it from someone who lived it feels as if I am just now hearing of the struggles the people then had to endure. Rosalie was lucky, a well of family, a chance at a stable marriage.
What happened to that? How can something go so wrong?
"What happens is that some people can't be trusted," Rosalie says.
And I know it within me to be true.
To have love shattered, to have your image of the world destroyed. Life was never perfect with Renee, I just didn't imagine it would be so full of people eager to harm others. It's a surprise again when I find that after the initial shock of what they did to me wore off, the original wound isn't fresh. I remember now, I lived with this wound for a while. I can't say I've made my peace with it, certainly not those words, but acceptance is easier than I imagined.
I don't want to think about the men that hurt Rosalie. I'm not sure if she wants to think about it either. She doesn't want to linger on the details.
But she does tell me of afterward. Of lying on the street, battered and close to death. About an angel that she thought would take her to heaven, only to condemn her to a life of living hell. The pain from the venom was so great that you end up reaching a point where screaming is pointless. And then the overwhelming thirst following, something that never entirely goes away.
Rosalie got her revenge. Murder without a taste of their blood. And with it came the subsequent decades of not knowing whether she was right to do so.
"I envy you," Rosalie admits. "You had the choice between being a vampire and a human. None of us had that choice. So I thank you for choosing right."
I'm afraid. I'm afraid of the fact that if it wasn't for the baby, I'm still not sure I wouldn't have chosen to be a vampire. Even without Edward, how can I know for certain that I would truly turn down the opportunity for immortality? But my baby is here now, growing, and that's not something I'll ever put in jeopardy.
"I have to tell him," I confess, thinking of Sam.
The strange urge to make sure there are no secrets between us only confuses me more. Sometimes, everything about Sam is confusing. How I feel about him constantly mixes with how I should feel about him. I can't tell what's real.
But he cares about the baby, right? Something in his eyes told me he did. My chest squeezes at the possibility that he actually doesn't. And what if he's too weirded out by my history to want to be there? And if I tell him this, that might make everything worse.
"You're clearly tired right now, Bella. You need to rest," Rosalie answers as if she is the Cullen that can read minds. Maybe humans are just obvious to vampires, however. After crying for a significant part of today, I doubt I look that great.
And the way everything inside me feels so, so heavy makes it impossible to argue. I let Rosalie guide me back down on the couch, falling asleep as soon as I hit the pillow.
When I wake up in the living room, there's a note next to me. Rosalie's cell number. It's all I can make out in the dark.
As soon as I reach for my own phone, the living room light flicks on. I slam my eyelids shut and moan at the intrusion. Charlie's heavy footsteps and the thud of his gear hitting the dining table jolts me awake further.
"Sorry kid, later night than expected. What're you doing on the couch?"
I squint at him, trying to force my vision to focus quicker. But it's not working, so I rub my eyes harshly, flinching at the pain. He slowly comes into view. Slightly unkempt hair and his usual police uniform possessing some wrinkles. I make a mental note to get ahead on laundry.
"Are you okay, Bells? You don't look so great," he says to me.
Charlie's face denotes a concern about me I suddenly feel ashamed I haven't paid much attention to anymore. Is that how he looked at me months ago? Maybe there's something about my face that suggests what I'm thinking about; maybe
"The Cullens are going to come back, Dad," I say, the truth much harder to hold back than I thought.
Well, once slice of it anyway.
I am absolutely not going to tell him about his impending grandfatherhood right now. The thought alone makes me drag the blanket further up my chest. I can literally feel every ounce of weight gain.
"Well," Charlie grunts. He looks around the room, trying to find something to pin his eyes, but can't, so he turns back to me with a sad look. "Shit."
He looks at me with a strange sort of pity. It reminds me then that I was a lot closer to a psychotic break than I realized when he first left. I want to reassure him that won't happen again, but what if I actually can't? I can maybe promise to try to keep it together, at least for Sam, but the words to say that aloud just makes everything too real.
"I'll shoot the kid," he mutters to himself.
"Dad," I groan, "I don't think they're going to stay for very long. Maybe a week or two…"
"That'll be enough time to get a few forty-five cals in him."
I groan at him.
Neither of us wants to talk more on the subject, despite it being very obvious from his expression that he's expecting me to break any second now. I think I do almost collapse under his scrutiny. It isn't hard to excuse myself after the silent dinner between the two of us.
Rosalie must have also stolen my phone number when I passed out because she messages me early in the morning that she's going to pick me up after school. I groan thinking of how my truck might be staying at the school parking lot after hours.
At school, I feel like I'm walking through water. The thoughts of what happened to me keep flashing through my mind, but again, it's almost a shock to not be entirely devastated by it anymore. Instead, my head only still hurts with the aftereffects of having my memory altered and erased. I keep trying to blink the pain back, hoping my drug-like state isn't obvious to everyone. But if it wasn't when I actually came to school high, I doubt anyone cares now.
The first half of my classes pass by in a breeze. I'm not sure I've paid attention to anything school-related this whole year. It hasn't prevented me from getting close to graduating, thankfully.
I see Jessica and Angela at the end of the hallway. Something else flashes through my mind I didn't get a chance to really think about until now. I rush to catch up with them just as Angela follows Eric around the corner into another classroom.
"Oh hey, Bella! How are you doing?" Jessica asks with her cheery smile that alleviates my brain fog for just a second.
"Good, how are you?" I say as if reading off a script. I mentally cringe at my own voice.
"Doing super!"
Her hair is pulled back with her signature hairband and she looks nice in a pink cardigan. We walk until we reach her locker, where I lower my voice to talk to her: "Jess, can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
I fiddle with a piece of my hair, "How did you know? About that clinic?"
Jessica looks surprised, and then slightly ashamed. "I've heard plenty of stories of these kinds of things happening to girls. I wanted to be prepared if anything happened to me."
I nod, "I understand."
Maybe I'm beginning to understand more and more of how some women are left behind by their partners, especially after something difficult happens. Despite my still-foggy brain, my mind has surprisingly never felt clearer. I am far from the only person that has ever been hurt by a boyfriend,
"A good move on my part since Mike couldn't figure out how to use a condom to save his life…" she finally grumbles, breaking the awkward silence.
"Oh, gross!" I exclaim, the mental images in my head forming immediately. "I didn't need to hear that."
Jessica snorts and elbows me in the shoulder as we walk on.
At the end of the school day, I go outside to look for Rosalie. She picks me up in an extremely fancy car that I don't know the name of. I certainly don't know what the symbols on the back mean. Yet, it is obvious to everyone that someone exceedingly wealthy is back in town. And past experience likely tells them it's the Cullen family.
Crap. I spot Angela and Jessica's shocked faces from across the yard. I try to signal to them that I'll let them know later, but I don't know if they've understood. My facial expressions are always lacking.
I swallow the pit of nervousness in my throat and climb into Rosalie's car. She wears a large set of brown sunglasses and a different all-white outfit. There are more designer symbols on her purse that I can't name.
"How did you get a car already?" I ask, dumbfounded.
She shrugs, "Money gets you pretty far in the human world."
Huh, I think. Well, I suppose that's pretty true. The topic of money reminds me just how little I have for a baby. I should head to the bank soon to double-check the amount. Then there's convincing Mike's mom to let me work more after I graduate. Maybe I can negotiate for a slightly higher wage with a diploma. Too much to do and so little time.
"When did you last see a doctor?" Rosalie asks as if reading my thoughts once again.
"A week ago," I blush.
She nods, "Carlisle might offer to examine you."
"Maybe," I say, "if Sam can see too."
Rosalie looks at me strangely again.
"I want to see him," I confess, feeling my stomach on fire. Even through all the fog going through my mind, I know I've wanted to see Sam. It's the truest thought I've had all day.
"Wait till tomorrow."
"Why?" I ask.
"Trust me."
Rosalie drives us to Port Angeles. There's a fancy, 'health-forward' grocery store where she makes me enter. Wordlessly, she pushes around a cart and fills it with organic vegetables and low-carb versions of what Charlie and I usually have at home. It gets full pretty soon and I'm half-expecting her to insist on getting another cart.
"I can't bring all of this home!" I exclaim.
"Tell your father that he should be on a better diet anyway," she grumbles.
Guilt squeezes me. She's not wrong. Charlie's preferred diet of steak and potatoes isn't doing wonders for his heart.
I turn away and just let her do what she will.
As she approaches the check-out, we watch the news displayed on one of the giant TVs hung on the wall. I know we must be in a really wealthy section of this town because nothing like this exists in Forks.
But the news isn't good. It never is anyway: constant stories of people dying in house fires or getting robbed in the street. This time, however, there's been a string of murders happening in Seattle. Exceedingly brutal killings. At least twenty bodies found with violent gashes and a surprising lack of blood. I squint looking at the screen. Something is oddly familiar about this.
I've seen many unhappy expressions on Rosalie before. But this one seems to be different. If I could step closer to her, I'm sure I'd see her eyes darken.
She turns to me, lips pursed, "Have these killings been going on for a while?"
"I don't know," I say. "I've been, uh, pretty distracted. But I think so, yeah? Actually, I think there have also been hiker deaths somewhat recently too. Do you think this has to do with Victoria?"
Rosalie's eyes narrow as I whisper the last part. It doesn't take much to put that together.
"Something like that," she states. "Don't think about it much. Stress isn't good for the baby."
She shuts me up pretty easily with that.
It's not impossible to convince Charlie that we could use healthy groceries. He doesn't like it one bit. And for myself, I find the cravings for greasy food only to be increasing. Rosalie denied that request in a second.
Charlie does know I probably couldn't afford all of this, so I'm forced to admit Rosalie is here before the others. He likes that even less. I'm far less successful in explaining that she's on my side and has never thought that highly of her foster brother.
I ache to be near Sam again. He looked at me so sadly a day ago. I'm not sure if I can ever get him to look at me normally again after this.
Rosalie finally lets me call him, insisting she'll drive me as far as where the La Push boundary is. She mentioned something about how the treaty is back in effect now that the Cullens are all coming back. My mind is spinning too fast to really focus on the details. I know Sam is going to be angry, I just hope he doesn't hate me for this. And I hope more than anything he'll want to be involved in our baby's life.
Much like Rosalie's story, I tell Sam what has happened to me. He listens, comprehending slowly and then all at once.
I kiss him to stop his rage.
It might occur to me later how strange it was not to be afraid of him, but for him. I didn't want him to destroy his home. I didn't want him to break everything without knowing a least a hint of how much I want him.
"I want to be there." His words ring in my ears as he drives us back to the rendezvous point. And the feeling of his lips still on mine makes me weak all over. Weaker than I normally am regularly.
I cannot believe I was bold enough to do that. Or to ask him to kiss me again. I don't think my knees will ever recover.
It hurts to let go of Sam's hand and leave him all over again. It hurts, even more, to think of Edward coming and disrupting what I'm feeling all over again.
"What happened?" Rosalie asks, seeing me look back at him as I climb back into her car. I wonder if I look as red as I feel. I can still feel the imprint of Sam pressing against me as we kissed.
"I kissed him," I tell her with a wobbly voice, "and then he kissed me. But I think he wants to kill Edward."
Rosalie shrugs, "There are worse things."
"Then Edward dying?" I gasp at her. A member of her own family, how could she possibly think that?
"No," she almost, almost smiles, "then having someone else wish to protect you from him."
I think I can feel the blush on my cheeks grow worse. If anything, I do think Sam will protect me. And most importantly, our baby. I still remember how it felt to have him touch my stomach and hold me close.
My eyes squeeze. Something hot pulses inside of me as I think of him more. My legs naturally cross while we drive back to my house. I'm not sure I've ever really dwelled on our 'baby-making' activities, except a few times, but if it weren't for needing to go back home, I wouldn't have been able to prevent myself from trying it again. Just for study, of course.
"Oh, crap!" I exclaim, fling myself practically across the seat to get Rosalie's attention. "I didn't even talk to him about Victoria at all."
Rosalie's eyes half roll at me, "That isn't your responsibility."
"What if it is?" I counter. It doesn't come out very convincingly though.
She doesn't answer me.
"I don't want anyone else getting hurt," I say.
"So they won't," Rosalie says. "Don't think about it."
But accidents happen. Harry is an example of that.
I end up thinking of something else, something that I can't hold back from asking Rosalie even if I know I should in order not to disturb the peace between us right now. "Why are you being so nice to me? I thought you hated me."
She almost looks surprised I would ask such a thing.
"I never hated you, Bella. I just thought you were making the wrong decision. But now you have something I've wanted all of my life. I won't let you lose that now."
Angela and Jess know something is buzzing around me when I go back to school the next day. Jessica correctly deduces it has to do with the 'baby daddy' who she is still aching to meet. But Sam would be very out of place at Forks High. And I'm not sure Jess would have great things to say to him, even if he wouldn't be intimidated by her fiery stance.
The thought that Jake is at least high school age reminds me that I owe him the truth. If not about Sam, then at least about me and my changing future. I miss him, truthfully. I even miss the bikes I gave him to work on, not that I'll ever get to touch them again.
But I owe Sam a heads-up before I do anything, in case it does get out.
"Sam," I sing his name into the phone, unable to even hold back an ounce of how relieved I am to talk to him again.
"Hi," he says and I can almost perfectly picture him smiling, the crinkles around his eyes, and his always candid expressions. I can feel his strong arms wrap around me, pull me up to meet his face since he towers over me so much.
"I'm going to tell Jake soon," I wince. "Before they come."
Neither of us can say what it will be like when they get here. When he gets here. I can barely conceptualize that it will be happening tonight. I nearly pray that I won't have to see him, but I know he'll sneak past all blocks his family will put up. Even though it's been months, I still know him. I don't think I'll ever not know him.
A moment of silence passes, "Alright. We should probably start telling more people anyway."
"Yeah," I try to laugh, awkwardly, "I'm getting pretty fat."
"Bella," he says my name and my stomach flips again.
"I know, I should be gaining a ton of weight," I almost roll my eyes while holding the phone, but I can't keep my voice from still holding a smile.
"You're perfect," he says.
And for just a second, I think my heart collapses from happiness.
I get Rose to drop me off by the treaty line again. I actually appreciate the walk to Jake's house. It's enough to try to gather my thoughts and prepare what I'm going to say to him. Of course, it all falls apart when I see him in his black shirt, grease stains evident when the sunlight hits just right. His hair looks even shorter now, close to Sam's cropped length. But it doesn't look right on him.
"Hey, Jake," I try to keep my voice upbeat, but I just end up mumbling the words.
His dark eyes narrow at me. He keeps fiddling with a wrench on the gears of his bike without making an effort to stop. I see that my own bike is kept in the corner in his garage, dust accumulating on every ledge. I tell myself that it's for the best, but it still hurts. He doesn't owe me this when I've been such a bad friend.
"I'm sorry I haven't come by to hang out in a while," I look downward and press one foot into the ground. "There's just been a lot going on…"
"I get it," he grumbles.
I'm not convinced he does.
"And with you too…" I look up at him.
Jake shakes his head, "Doesn't matter."
He finally throws the towel he's been using to clean the bikes down on the ground and faces me straight on.
"I just wanted to tell you something," I say, my whole body starting to shake with nerves. "Before anyone else did."
He raises an eyebrow at me and I realize that's all I'm going to get for an invitation to continue. His face is passive but I know that is going to change in a second. I take a deep breath.
"I'm, uh, going to have a baby."
He looks at me, blinking slowly.
Jake then coughs, "What do you mean?"
I cross my arms over my chest, feeling all of me heat up.
"I mean…I'm pregnant."
It's an agonizing minute of silence between us.
"Wow, well, um, wow," he stutters.
"It doesn't have to change anything," I rush out. "Except for, you know, weight gain and less dangerous activities."
He almost smiles at that.
"We can still be friends," I add, hoping with everything in me that he'll agree.
Jake nods slowly, transfixed at my stomach. I wonder vaguely if this is where everyone will stare when talking to me from now on. It probably won't help that I'll be protruding at least a foot outward from here not long from now.
I take the opportunity to really look at him. He seems to be getting even more chiseled than when I last saw him at Harry's funeral. Though he and everyone else did wear a shirt then. He seems so far off from the Jacob I saw months ago. I still miss his long, flowing hair and cheesy smile. Growing up seems to take everything from you.
"Alright," he finally says and relief floods into my limbs.
I take a step towards him, intent on going for a hug, but he suddenly moves back, stopping me in his tracks. A confused look comes over his features.
"Does anyone else know?" he asks. His eyes then narrow further, "Does Sam know?"
"Yeah, of course, Sam knows," I say immediately.
Jacob suddenly snaps, standing up straighter. I can see an angry expression grow across his face. Oh, crap.
"What do you mean 'of course'?" he snarls.
I stake a step back from him, feeling a twig break under me. Jacob follows me, his much longer legs cutting across the ground to reach me quickly. I wilter underneath his fiery gaze. I think I'm going to trip and fall soon. If he notices how clumsy I'm getting, he definitely doesn't comment.
"Bella," his voice grows low. "Tell me you didn't."
"Didn't what?" I whisper, still backing up.
I realize the second mistake I've spoken now. I will my feet to push against the ground quickly, but it's no use. He continues to follow me with his eyes bugged out and his biceps shaking. I know what's coming next. I feel it in my bones.
"Of all fucking people," he growls. "Why the fuck did it have to be him!"
"Jake, please," I beg, throwing my hands up in the air.
I keep glancing behind me to see if I'm going to hit a tree. He might stalk me deep into the woods if he doesn't calm down soon. The thought should scare me, but I still worry more about the rage happening inside of him. I know what that can lead to now. And even though I don't blame Sam for what happened with his mom, it's not impossible for any of the other wolves to do the same. I whimper more.
"God, I can't believe you," he seethes.
"I'm sorry," I cry, seconds away from the tears streaming down my face. I fall to my knees in front of him, putting myself at the mercy of his wrath.
Jacob finally stops and I let out a shaking breath. We're at the edge of the Black property.
He yells and reaches down to pick a large branch off the ground, flinging it in the air meters away from me. My whole body flinches as I follow it flying through the sky until it crashes far away. Turning back to look at Jake, I can see the fury behind his dark eyes grow worse.
"And the things you don't even know about him," he barks. "Oh, I'd tell you if I could. I really would. Then maybe you'd stay away from him."
My mind buzzes as he says this to me.
"I've changed my mind, Bella. We're not going to be friends again. Not ever."
The hatred in his tone leaves no room for interpretation. I don't know how to tell him that what happened with Sam wasn't planned. That I don't fully know where we stand with each other right now. That it shouldn't have any effect on who I'm friends with anyway. But I know he won't hear any of it.
"Okay," I whisper.
Jake lets out another strangled cry and then with a jump, he explodes again into his wolf form. The large, russet creature towers over me. It breathes out heavily through its nose and then it runs off into the woods.
The last stare he gave me conveys the same pain I feel inside me: betrayal.
Rosalie sees me crying when I make it back to her car. She hands me a tissue, but thankfully doesn't give me a look of pity.
We pull off of the side of the road. I rest my head against the window and watch the trees pass us by. I can't think of anything else besides a pack of wolves running through, hurting each other, and being hurt by something far more sinister.
"We're not going to be friends," I say. My voice wobbles at the admission.
"He's a dog," she finally states.
"Don't call him that," I whisper as I continue to sniffle.
"Then I mean it metaphorically," she rolls her eyes.
"He's gone to attack Sam now," I say. I can't imagine him going anywhere else. The thought of more conflict because of me sickens me again.
She raises a perfect eyebrow at me, "I think Sam can take care of himself."
We drive back to Forks in silence. I can't tear my eyes around from the scenery. It's spring now. So many seasons have passed since they first left, since I first even talked to Sam. The way nature turns, sheds its leaves, hibernates, and then eventually recovers reminds me of myself. Sam can take care of himself, I know that for certain. Maybe, just maybe I can take myself too. And then both of us can take care of the new life growing between us.
Of course, there's still so much worry creeping inside of me. I know what's coming next and I'm not sure if I can handle the next part.
Rosalie flips her phone open when we reach my driveway. When she turns to me, it's to say the words I've been dreading to hear: "They'll be here soon."
My hand naturally falls to my belly. I can feel the swell has gotten bigger in the last week. It brings relief, but then I panic that my ability to hide this from Charlie at least won't last forever. He probably wouldn't take well to me showing up with a newborn one day without prior notice. Still, my changing body shows that my baby is getting stronger and I only want to share this news with Sam. No one else.
"I'll try to prevent him from seeing you," Rosalie adds.
"I know," I respond. I can hear the 'but no promises' she leaves out through the rustling in the trees.
My room suffocates me for hours as I wait.
I feel the air change and I know.
I know he's here.
If I just turn around, I know what's lurking in the shadows of my room. But I don't want to turn around. I hold in my breath until I start to feel dizzy and then do I slowly look behind my shoulder.
He stands in front of me. And it's something I don't understand. It's like looking at a pebble on the bottom of a glass of water. Or maybe boulders at the bottom of a sea I've never scuba-dived through. It's so blurry, so much water. There's something physical there, only I can't see it beneath the fractured reflections. I can't focus at all. Maybe it's not real at all.
I rub at my eyes.
"Bella," his voice, smooth as silk. I used to beg for this sound. This exact sound. Exact. My name on his lips.
He might step forward. His tousled golden hair even bounces too. It's been so long since I've looked at a man in a real button-up.
"Don't."
My reaction is immediate. I fling myself backward and squeeze my arms around myself. I feel almost feral, the very hairs on the back of my neck telling me this is danger, danger, danger. How did it get like this? When did all the happy memories vanish in the wake of raw instinct?
Edward stops what little movement he makes. His eyes narrow down at my middle.
I squeeze even tighter. I knew he would know when he came, but seeing that he knows here and now feels me with distress.
"I don't know how to say how sorry I am," he admits.
Involuntarily, I swallow the buildup in my mouth. The way he looks at me makes me believe he is trying to say sorry for a myriad of things I don't feel sorry for.
"I'm keeping it," I almost spit out. But my voice can't convey the intensity of what I'm feeling. There's too much wobble, too much pain from the contraction of my throat.
Edward nods, "Rosalie assured me as much."
Then there's nothing more to talk about. There can't be.
"But for what else happened-"
"Don't," I rush out again. "I can't hear it."
"Bella," he tries again. My whole body cringes at the hopes my eardrums will just close shut and I won't be able to hear anything anymore. "I was trying to protect you. But I can see now that I made the wrong decision."
The wrong decision.
"Please, just don't," I whisper.
"Alright," Edward relents. "I want you to know that I will do everything in my power to protect you now."
"Why now?" I ask. As soon as I say it, I regret it. I clamp my hand over my mouth and try to shake the question off. But he heard it, like he always does and is always inclined to answer. Why must I be so stupid and ask for answers I don't actually want to hear?
He decides to break my heart again anyway: "Because it would kill me to see you hurt."
"But why?" I moan.
He isn't making sense. I am nothing more than a fragile human. The clumsy, naive lamb who didn't understand the forces of nature at work. His natural prey.
But he doesn't look at me like that now. Not since that first day in Biology class. He looks at me with the expression that got me addicted to him in the first place. Like I am the only person in the world …
"Because you are the person I care most about in this world."
His perfect voice tells me again how desperately I longed for that to be true. I told myself that if I were to just hear this one more time, I might be able to recover, I might be able to go on. If only I knew…But it never came. And now, now my stomach churns even worse. Something feels so wrong.
"No," I fling myself backward a step. "You're lying. I saw it in my eyes when you said goodbye to me…"
It was this very thing I grappled with when he left. How could he leave like nothing mattered?
"Bella," he starts. "Lying to you that day was the most painful thing I've ever had to do. I thought you wouldn't believe me, but you did, so easily. And you have no idea how much that hurt."
"No," I repeat, shaking my head repeatedly.
He has to be lying to me now. After all, he left so easily.
"Bella Swan, I love you. Leaving you was the biggest mistake of my life."
No, he can't love me. I can't think that's true.
The biggest mistake?
And what you did to me before wasn't? I want to scream at him. But I can't. My whole body freezes. I fall back on my bed, fortunate that it's soft enough to break my impact. My knees couldn't work now even if I commanded them. I feel so small beside him, but still, every instinct revolves around me making myself smaller. Maybe I will finally disappear from his gaze.
Edward looks at me closely, his perfect face contorting in pain. I can't help but to imagine how the sunlight hitting him just right will explode his skin into diamonds. It's not right for me to see him in this way again. The skin of a killer. Do I really see that now? The perfect Edward I once believed in.
"I can't, I can't, you have to leave," I cry into my hands, my thoughts killing me. "Please leave, now."
He's hurt. I can see that in his eyes. But I can also see that he knows he has no leeway to argue with me. Only rarely in the past did he ever let me win our arguments. The memories make me shake.
"I will protect you," he whispers this final, momentary goodbye without me even looking.
"Shame is a soul eating emotion." ― Carl Gustav Jung
It's not possible for me to open my eyes again. Not until I wait for the cold draft in my room to leave. Not until my lungs scream at me to breathe again. Not until I can be sure I'm alone, even though I can't ever really be sure again.
And then I whisper a truth that my heart has been singing for months now. Because to admit it before felt like defeat. It felt like an evil I was allowing into myself; an act unforgivable, for who moves on from an angel entering your life for even one brief second? But now, everything has changed and me with it. I see a different truth now.
"I'm not yours anymore."
A/N: So so sorry this has been extra delayed! Also apologies for my lack of true understanding of Jacob or Edward's character. I tried to make it as realistic as possible.
Hope everyone had a happy New Year!