Author's Note: Hello, humans. Guess who's back? That's right, Bella and Paul being an adorable little ball of feelings and confusion.
Bella spoke in her sleep.
It was something he had come to expect from her — Paul had spent many nights outside guarding her house, with only her soft breathing and random whispered word as his company. However, that night, while lying in her bed, holding her body in his arms, he heard nothing. Just the usual noises of the forest to keep him company as he tried to figure out how to deal with all that had happened in the past twenty-four hours.
There was a plan forming inside Paul's mind — something that would change everything... It wouldn't have been his first — dammit, his tenth — option, but Bella was shaking in his arm in her sleep, even as he wrapped his overheated members all around her, and his priority was keeping her happy and safe. He would deal with anything else.
He wanted nothing more than to stay where he was — with her. The thought of her waking up to an empty bed after he had promised to keep her safe was... unpalatable. Charlie was waking up in his bed, though, and soon he would get up to get ready for the day — which would undoubtedly involve a visit to Bella's bedroom to see how she was doing. It was the man's routine, Paul knew it very well. Which meant staying where he was wasn't an option, and, to be honest, the idea of hiding like a creepy teenager didn't appeal to him one bit.
Before he could decide what to do, his phone began to vibrate in the pocket of his shorts, making Paul hasten to fish it out before Bella could be disturbed by the call. The name flashing in the screen was a relief.
"Jared," Paul breathed out, his voice all but a wisp of noise.
"Paul, what's wrong?" He asked, his voice equally soft.
"Bella is sleeping in my arms. She had some kind of panic attack, I think."
"Shit. Sorry to disturb you guys rough night."
Paul's wolf all but purred at Jared including him in his mate's pain, at referring to them as a unity. Yes, it had been a rough night for them.
"No...I, it's fine." It was more than fine. Hearing Jared's calm voice coming through the phone was soothing some sharp edges of his pain, even if temporarily. "What's up?"
"I was calling to remind you that today is Claire's birthday. Emily thought that you might have forgotten about it, so she asked me to call. You're still going, right?" Jared asked, pausing for a moment before adding. "Bringing Bella, of course."
Paul had absolutely forgotten about her birthday. He couldn't miss it; otherwise, Quil would be unbearable to be around for the next decade. It could fit into his plans, though. "Crap. Yeah, I had totally forgotten about it. I'll talk to Bella — see if she wants to go. It would be good for her to be around the pack… Jared, I…"
"What?"
"I think I want to tell Bella about the imprint." There, he said it.
Jared remained silent for a while, and Paul bit his bottom lip trying to wait for his opinion. "Paul… that's, I—That amazing! Of course you should tell her. I can't believe you're going to. I mean, not that I didn't think you would at some point but—"
"Shhh," Paul cut him off. "Keep your voice down, dumbass. If you wake her up, I'll beat your sorry ass."
"Sorry, sorry. I'm just excited for you. You're doing it tonight?"
"That's the idea. Let her see the imprint in action and then explain it to her. Maybe it won't sound so creepy if she sees it from many different perspectives."
"Nah, stop being so damn pessimist. She'll understand. Bella's always been great with the supernatural — better than most of us. She'll get it."
Paul smiled down at his imprint, who was starting to stir in his arms. "Yeah, she's great. Look, Jared, she's going to wake up in a mo. I'll see you tonight, alright?"
"Sure. I'll see you at Emily's. Call me if you need anything, okay? Don't be a moron," Jared lectured.
"Shut up. Bye," Paul said, ending the call.
Bella moved again, making tiny noises as she woke up. "Paul," she groaned as she opened her eyes, voice raspy.
He blamed that for the way his stance softened like a dog being petted. "Good morning, gorgeous."
Bella groaned again, hiding her face in his chest. "Too early," she mumbled.
Paul slid his arm under her neck, supporting the weight of it and helping her press it against his muscles. If she wanted to hide from the world for a little longer, Paul was happy to help. "You can go back to sleep if you want. Charlie just left to work — you've got a little while still."
And yeah, the Chief that left the house while Paul had been on the phone with his brother, going to work without even pausing to check on Bella, which stroke him as odd, seeing as the man had done so every single day Paul had watched the house.
Bella nuzzled against his chest, sighing in contentment. "How come you smell so good, it's not fair."
"Perks of being awesome."
"I'm sure," she said, and Paul was pretty sure she was rolling her eyes at him, even though he couldn't see her face.
"Shut up, kid." Paul took a deeper breath, bracing himself. "Look, Bella, we're celebrating a birthday today at Emily's. Do you wanna come?"
At that, Bella pushed back against his arm until Paul retreaded his arm and she could aim her head up to look him in the eyes. "Please tell me it's not your birthday and you haven't told me until now."
"No, not my birthday. But everyone is going, and I thought you might like the opportunity to do something other than hanging at Jake's or here."
"Yeah? Sounds good. I can drive to Emily's straight from school. What should I bring? Do I have to buy a present? Whose birthday am I going to, anyways?"
"It's Claire's. Don't worry about presents, I'm sure Quil will have everything sorted out — the dumbass. Just show up, Bella," Paul explained, tucking a strand of Bella's hair behind her ear, holding back the grin when her heart began to speed up the second he touched her.
"Kiss me?" She asked, a tiny frown marrying her beautiful face as though she was unsure whether she should be doing that, and Paul could hardly stand it.
"Are you asking or asking?" Paul demanded, hoping to see a spark behind those brown eyes.
She narrowed said eyes. "God, you are such a jackass," she proclaimed, reaching for his shoulder and pushing him down just as she stretched forward, capturing his lips on hers.
Paul laughed into the kiss, making their teeth clash for a moment before he got himself under control, kissing her back, all slow morning decadence.
"You sure know how to make a man feel wanted, kid," Paul said when Bella released his mouth to take a breather.
Her reaction wasn't the laugh Paul had been expecting, however. Bella actually flinched back, a wince passing through her face before she attempted to hide it. Which, in turn, made Paul feel like the biggest idiot for saying that to her when he knew how fragile her self-esteem already was.
"We need to talk, Bella," Paul began, going for the softest tone he could muster. "Yesterday…"
"I—I mean, I know it was bad—"
"You need help," he said. "Bella, that was scary as fuck for me — I have no idea how it must be for you."
"I don't want to take pills. I'm not crazy," Bella pointed out, as if she had to convince Paul of her sanity. Her whole body reeked of sadness.
"No one is saying you're crazy, kid. Needing help isn't the same as being crazy."
She paused, biting her bottom hard. When she spoke, it came out really goddamn tentative. "When we... when we were together, it didn't feel bad. I didn't feel bad. I felt incredible."
It almost hurt to be the responsible one and reason with her. Damn, he wanted to be the one who healed Bella so fucking much it was an ache in his very core. "While I'm really honored that you would think so, Bella, I do not have a magical healing cock. I can't solve your problems with sex, despite how much it pains me to say so."
God, he hoped she knew how badly he wished to strap her to that bad and never leave her side again.
"I didn't say you could heal me, Paul. I just… I've been chasing ghosts for a long time now. I haven't been healing. I just want-wanted so badly for everything to go back to the way it used to be that I didn't allow myself to let any of it go," Bella said, and her eyes were sort of shining with just the barest hints of tears.
Paul hesitated for a brief second before asking: "You never did explain the whole 'hearing voices' thing."
"I…" She started, but her voice died down. Bella scratched her forearm lightly, almost like she was grounding herself as she spoke. "He took everything when he left. All the material things that had once been concrete evidence of his presence in my life — do you know how that made me feel? It had always seemed like a dream to me — vampires, supernatural creatures… love — and to have it all ripped away only seemed to be the confirmation I needed that it had all been in my head."
"Hey," Paul said, grabbing her hand in his. Her arm was turning red. "Don't do that. It wasn't a dream, Bella. I know it's a weird world; it doesn't make it unreal, though."
"Yeah, I get it now," she breathed out, tracing a random pattern in his hand. "At least most of the time I get that. So, yeah, I found out that doing shit — anything, really, that got the adrenaline going — made me… I don't know, hallucinate? I could hear the voice so clear… it's crazy. Perfectly — like he was right there."
Paul gritted his teeth, trying to remain level-headed enough for that conversation. He had been the one to ask — he had to be man enough to hear the answer. No matter how much Bella sadness ignited his anger instantly, or how much he hated hearing about the endless well that was Bella's feelings for the bloodsucker.
"You risked your like—"
"I know," she interrupted, shaking her head. "I know, Paul. It just… didn't seem to be dangerous enough to risk losing my only connection to him."
Her heartbeat was going up the more they spoke about it, even though her face wasn't giving that much away. Paul could see the flush, the unshed tears… he could almost feel the despair clinging to her skin like sticky honey.
"You deserve so much better than an asshole who does something like this to you, Bella. I hope you fucking know that he's an idiot. The biggest fucking piece of scum to ever walk the face of the earth for putting you through this shit on your own," Paul pushed the words out his grit teeth. Bella didn't look scared though, she looked pained. "How dare he—"
"No, let's not do this. I can't, Paul. I'm not there — not even a little bit. Can we just—"
Paul fisted his free hand, reining himself back in. Of course she wasn't there yet. Bella had just recovered from a panic attack — it wasn't the time to be badmouthing the bloodsucker. Shit… he would just… just hold it back. For now.
"Sure. Sure, of course. You need to go to school, and I need to go to work," Paul said, squeezing Bella's hand. "Let's do breakfast, hun?"
She rewarded him with a small, tired smile. "Food sounds… almost good."
Almost good had to be a step forward, right? Paul thought to himself, as Bella left his arms and he held back the instant need to drag her back.
It had to be something.
On his way back to the rez, after the longest class Paul had ever endured, when he came within hearing distance from Sam's place, his brother's voice interrupted his peaceful journey.
"Hey, Paul, bro, listen to this shit," he said. "Your mate is on a roll here."
"What?" Paul asked, already searching for his imprint heartbeat.
It was almost too easy to single out Bella's presence even from afar, coming from inside the house.
"— no, wait, so, think of it like this: say something, anything." Bella was speaking fast and rushed, as though she wanted to get the words out there as soon as possible. "Imagine you're in the middle of a discussion, a conversation. You're trying to make your point, so you say something. Then you realize that what you said wasn't exactly quite what you meant — you wish you had added something or said it differently. So you repeat it — a better, more refined version of what you had previously said. But then, again, more thoughts pop into your head, and there's another thing to add, a more compelling way of selling your view. So you say it for the third time — and it's an even better version, an even more developed idea. Great, right?"
"Yeah, so?" Emily asked in a calm tone, following along.
"Now imagine that the third time is always your first time. You have so much more time to think about what you're saying because your brain is naturally quicker. Not only that, but when you're engaging in conversation with someone, you perceive their body reactions — if their hearts are beating faster or slower, if they're suddenly sweating, if they are nervous, or shaking, even just a tiny bit. It's crazy, you can tell if the hairs in their arms are suddenly raised, or if they glance to the left when they tell you something. Even if it's very discreet, it's still there. You see it all. Your eyesight is so much better than other's, so you see every minuscule change. Now, imagine being like that all of the time. Being a vampire is not only about being faster or stronger or having gifts, is kind of like being a super-human, in a sense. In which you can perceive things in a hundred different ways while also analyzing the information you're gathering simultaneously. I think that's the point: they are essentially another species. And I don't think enough people understand what that means."
"She's not wrong," Embry said, as Paul parked his bike.
The boys — sans Quil — were all sitting in front of the house, listening as Bella carried on speaking to Emily. It was a novelty to hear Bella actually say stuff instead of bottling all inside and looking sick for it. Jacob had an expression balanced between disbelief and satisfaction that said he agreed with Paul's shock.
"This is—," Jacob began, but Bella spoke again, interrupting him.
"They are not the only ones, though. I mean, werewolves," She carried on, a little slower now. "They are angry, they need that anger to shift. Yes, as you get more experience, you learn to access that place without much effort. But still, the driving force behind their shift is that feeling. There's no way that doesn't have an effect on them — it's not possible. They are overgrown adolescents or young adults at most, who became a supernatural being overnight. It's pretty obvious to me that they struggle to coincide being a human with being a wolf — it's two different bodies, with sometimes conflicting needs and desires. Your perceptions change when you are a wolf — you see the world through the perspective of an animal, despite being a conscient one. They'll want to hunt and eat rare meat and chase the prey."
"What the fuck," Paul whispered from his place leaning against his bike, looking at Jacob in surprise. Just how much was the boy sharing with his mate about being a wolf?
And yet, the boy was shaking his head. He hadn't been the one to say any of that to her.
"That's all her," he explained.
Bella pulled in a deep breath, shifting in her seat. "That's not even mentioning the pack mind connection! I mean, good God, that has to drive 'em mad! A big part of their lives is suddenly being broadcasted to all their pack-brothers, and at the same time, strange thoughts are being pushed inside your head without boundaries. How easy must it be to blur the lines? To see yourself as the other person? If nothing else, having that barrier protecting our most intimate and private thoughts is what defines us as, well, us."
"Since when has your mate become the Doctor Phil of the supernatural?" Embry asked, pulling an impressed face. "It's pretty impressive."
"She has a lot of free time," Jacob responded. "And Bella's always been a curious one. She doesn't know when to leave things alone."
"That's good, right? I mean, if she wasn't curious, she would've never come to the rez, and perhaps she and Paul would've never crossed paths."
Sam shook his head. "She's his imprint. They would've met, I'm sure. Maybe that's why she's so good with all this. Leaves more room for Paul to be the one running away."
"Damn, Sam. Straight for the jugular, man," Jared whistled out. "Harsh."
"Shut the fuck up."
"It's insane when you think about it!" Bella exclaimed, clueless to what they were saying. "You have that anger, you have that gigantic struggle of having to behave as humans while you are around others but having to get in touch with your animal side whenever is necessary to save your life — and the lives of others, which are now your responsibility to protect, even if you never applied for that job or imagined it would be yours. Also, you have to know how to distinguish yourself from others. Because it has to be a struggle, there's no way it isn't. Even if — and that's a big, big if — they know at all times whose thoughts are whose, there are still a bunch of voices screaming inside your head — which you're not used to, you're not prepared to. Nothing."
"Sam says they do know how to differentiate from one another," Emily informed, and she had to know they were all standing right outside the house. "Which, of course, doesn't negate what you just said. It is horrible. I mean, most of them were only teenagers when they first shifted… is never easy to have these many secrets."
"Exactly! And honestly, it drives me mad, bananas, insane that no one is talking about this. That the- the- that they wouldn't really say anything about this, and that the boys have to act like this is all normal and okay," Bella exclaimed, her voice going up higher as she got more excited. "And that's not even going into the whole mate thing. Being in love with a human — I'm not saying is not possible, I'm sure it is, actually — but it has to be the hardest thing to happen to a supernatural being. Vampires struggle to deal with other scents that come from humans that are not blood, just as the wolves do. Being around people who wear too much perfume, too much hair products, who stink, who are sick. It's a struggle. And for them is like the world is continuously in slow motion. Can you imagine that?"
"I can," Embry grumbled. "It fucking sucks — that's what it is."
"I don't think I ever heard Bella speaking so much before," Jared pointed out. And, to be honest, neither had Paul. No in one go like that.
Jacob, though, looked incredulous. "I can't believe she's speaking about the leeches," he said, looking at the house like he was trying to see through the wall.
Bella wasn't done, however.
"It was hell for me too, you know," she said, calmer this time. "I don't know how you do it. Before coming here I had never been so conscious of my own needs and necessities as a human — not once had I double guessed myself when I needed to go to the bathroom, or when I sweated a lot or had morning breath, or I don't know, needed to fart, for God's sake. And I know I tend to be overdramatic with my feeling, alright, but it is hard enough being a teenager in high school without having to keep yourself in check all of the damn time because of the people you are surrounded by."
Paul winced, sharing a look with Jacob. They probably spent way too long complaining to her about the bad aspects of superior senses.
He could hear Emily moving around the kitchen. "Bella, breathe. Sweety, you need to relax. These boys can hunt and kill — they'll survive odors and noises. You don't need to feel self-conscious about yourself," she explained. "Pass me that bowl. No, the other one. Thank you. Look, just do whatever and trust they'll tell you if something bothers them, alright? Trust me, Sam had no qualms about throwing my old perfume down the drain."
"He didn't?" Bella asked, a hint of a smile on her voice.
"What? He sure did. I mean, he didn't actually pour it down the drain — the smell would linger, of course. But he did tell me, in no uncertain terms, to get rid of it."
"Do you ever miss it? I don't know, being able to wear whatever?"
Besides Jacob, Sam stopped breathing.
"No," Emily said, without a hint of hesitation. "Of course I miss some things. We all do, in a way. But I love Sam, Bella. He's… Sam is all I could've ever hoped for, and more. All these things you're wondering — I went through it all. Is wasn't the life I imagined, nor is it all flowers and roses, but it's a whole lot better than what you've seen. I know those vampires hurt you, sweetie, the boys are not gonna do that, though."
It was Paul's turn to hold in his breath, even as he silently thanked Emily for being the goddamn angel she was.
"I… thank you," Bella said, and Paul could hear her steps around the kitchen. "Please, let me help you with something."
And, just like that, the whole deep conversation was over, and Paul was left with his spinning mind and stunned pack-mates, wondering what the hell had just happened.
The party was in full swing, a bunch of annoying kids running around the place. Sam's house was fully decorated with all sorts of Disney's princess stuff – all pink and party hats. It wasn't the typical situation for a bunch of grown men to be – the pack surely stood out like a sore thumb, even if they had all made an effort that night, wearing shirts and all.
Yet, to Paul, it was Bella who seemed more removed from the excitement, sitting by herself in a kitchen chair, nursing a half-full glass of water. He walked toward her, pulling up a chair to sit by her side.
"That's Claire," Paul informed, needless pointing to the small child in Quil's arms.
"Emily said she's her niece. Is that why you guys are all here?" Bella asked.
Paul shook his head fondly. "Nah, kid. Claire's pack, we wouldn't miss her birthday."
Bella's mouth dropped in shock. "No way. That little kid is a werewolf?" She asked, and Paul could almost see the weird places her mind was going.
Paul laughed. "Course not, Bella. Please. She's turning three."
"Then how—"
"Look, just... just observe, alright? I think it will be easier to explain after you see it in action. Just keep your pretty eyes open," he pleaded, hoping to some deity above that Bella used her sharp brain to see the connections bonding the people in the room.
Bella predictably blushed at the compliment but held the eye contact. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"
Paul refrained from pointing to where Jared and Kim were deep in conversation at the corner. "The way people interact with each other. Some will stand out, I have to doubt. I'll explain everything afterward, don't worry."
"Okay."
It was late — the party had ended many hours before. They were inside Bella's car, just the two of them, driving back to her place. The cabin felt small and overheated, and Paul had to make an honest effort to unstick his tongue to the roof of his mouth.
"What did you see?" Paul finally asked, when she refused to break the silence.
"Emily and Sam, Jared and Kim… Quil and Claire? Is was strange… different, I guess," Bella began straight away, as if she had been waiting for his clue in the script. It was spot on, and Paul's heart began to race. "They almost gravitated towards each other, in a sense." A pause. "Love, I guess. I saw love."
Like a band-aid, Paul decided to just go for it. "That's the imprint."
Bella turned her head to show her frown. "Imprint? What's an imprint?"
"It's complicated," he said with a grimace. Really, complicated? Was that the best he had? "And by that, I mean I hadn't planned on telling you about it — not for a while, still. But I think you need to take the reins of your own life, and as your imprint, I should lead by example."
"What? Wait, Paul, what?" She asked, her hands tight around the steering wheel. "You are my imprint? What does that mean?"
"Honestly? It can mean a lot of things. It means I'm connected to you. We are connected. And that can mean whatever we want it to mean — whatever you want, more specifically."
"I need to stop, I need to park," Bella said, her breathing coming faster and faster.
"It's La Push, Bella. Stop here," Paul directed, wanting to touch her but wondering if it would only make things worse. When she kept panicking, he dropped his hand on her thigh. "Kid, stop. Now."
That seemed to snap her out of it because Bella swerved to the left and killed the engine. The silence after Bella's ancient truck stopped making noise was deafening in the dark.
"Explain," she demanded, turning her whole body to face Paul.
The movement dislodged his hand from her leg, and he made no move to put it back, opting to drop it in his own lap as he readied his mind for the conversation.
"Imprinting is… like figuring out you had several connections in your life, and they were all not as strong as you thought they were, 'cause suddenly there are a million titanium lines bonding you with a single human being, and that's more… just more. It's how we — werewolves — find our mates. We know, at first glance." Paul tried to put into words the feelings that went through him when he first saw Bella, even knowing he had no chances at conveying half the strength of the emotions.
"Like love at first sight?" Bella asked, her voice flat. Clearly, the concept wasn't tempting to her.
"No, not the romantic love you're thinking," Paul said, trying to gauge her every reaction. The way her heart kept going at a strong pace, the way she was holding herself uncommonly still, the frown of her brow — he studied 'em all, in hopes of seeing even the slightest hint of a positive reaction. "It can be whatever the person needs it to be. Quil, for example, you saw him tonight. He's gonna be the best older brother/friend Claire could've ever hoped for because that's what she needs at the moment. There's no hint of romance in his head."
"But Emily…?"
"Emily needed something else. Her story is her own, so I'll ask you to go to her to hear it, but what I can tell you is that Sam was there for her, being whatever she needed him to be. He chased Emily for months and months, just to be near her." Paul hoped his voice didn't sound as tired as he suddenly felt. "In a way, the power is all with the imprint. When Emily asked Sam to leave her alone, he did it. When she changed her mind, he was still there."
Something dark flashed behind Bella's eyes. "You don't have a choice? You're forced to be around the person."
Paul could've lied, probably should've lied, but he had promised himself to do right by Bella, even if he didn't want to. Especially if he didn't want to. "It's complicated," he said, trying to transmit his own emotions through his eyes. "In a way, yes, we don't have a choice. When we see—when I saw you for the first time, the minute our eyes met, the bond happened to me. There's no way I could ever escape it, no one else for me. So, yeah, in some ways I have to satisfy the bond and be near you, but that doesn't mean I don't have my own free will, Bella. I know what you're thinking, so don't. I could satisfy the bond without getting involved in your life."
And, okay, maybe that was a stretch on his part. He probably would be miserable living his life far from Bella — he's not even sure if he actually could — but he could've tried more. If he didn't enjoy her presence, he wouldn't have done half of the things he had done.
"Could you, though?" She asked, as if she could read his mind. Bella leaned forward. "Don't lie to me. Tell me how it is… please."
The pleading was unnecessary, although it served the purpose of forcing the words out of his mouth almost like a trance. "It's a connection, a bond. We don't know much about it. In fact, we thought it was a pretty rare thing, and yet, somehow, we only have Jake and Embry without an imprint now. What we do know is that it forges this instant link between two people — unbreakable, irrevocable. It can be whatever the imprint needs it to be — the bond makes us want to protect and care for our mate. That's it."
"So I'm forcing my feelings onto you because of the bond. That's basically what you're saying, right? That you become whatever I need."
"You're not forcing anything, kid," Paul denied, and he couldn't help the way his hand raised itself to land on her nape, putting pressure there. "I need to be near you, to protect you, to make you feel safe and happy. I want… well, I want all other sorts of things."
Finally, some tension left her body, and Bella leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for a moment. "What does that mean for us?"
"It can mean whatever you want it to mean. It doesn't have to change anything for us if you don't want it to. But I wanted you to know that I'll be here — that even when I'm not around physically, I won't ever leave you. You have me… if you want me," Paul admitted, bared his heart for Bella to do with it whatever she wished to. He felt exposed and naked, just waiting for the punishing blow to come.
"I… this is a lot, Paul. A commitment for life. God, it's like a fairy-tail soulmate movie," she groaned, overwhelmed.
"Is this what you want, a soulmate?"
"Isn't that what we all wish for, one way or another?" Bella said, somewhat bitterly. "To be loved, to be understood, to be meaningful in someone else's life, to get to have that person who will not shy away from the darkness in you, but who will, instead, lean in and figure out the way you need to be touched and loved."
He could tell her mind was going to another place, though, so he squeezed the back of her neck, sliding a bit closer to her tense body. "What are you thinking about?
"That I can't change," she admitted, dropping her hands on his leg and squeezing it in return. "I've tried. I've tried to chance, but I can't, and I feel pathetic, trust me. I say that I won't get attached, that I'll protect my heart, that this will be the time I impose barriers between others and me, but I only get more anxious each time I see myself repeating the same mistakes over and over again, trusting everyone. I said it to myself with Edward, that he was far too good to ever settle for a girl like me, who had literally nothing to offer to him, and yet, still, I allowed the moment to sweep me off my feet, and there I went, like the complete fool I'm starting to realize I am, after him like a puppy. And he broke my heart, tore it to pieces and stump on it — broke it off with me in the worst possible way for me, throwing all my insecurities right into my face and leaving me with nothing."
The pain wrapped around her words turned on all the alarms in his head. "Bella…"
"It was hell. It truly was," Bella carried on, ignoring his interruption. "And for a long while, I thought that I was done with opening up to people. Edward had been my shot, and I blew it — I had to accept that. But then there was Jake... And how could I not? Honestly, I don't even know how we got to where we are. He just walked into my life, pulled up a chair, sat down and when I saw it, we were having fun together. I wanted to feel something, anything, and Jake was the perfect enabler."
His mate opened a small, embarrassed smile. "You know, it took me a longer while than I'm comfortable admitting to see how big Jake's crush on me had grown. He was all sunshine and smile, not a hint of pain to be seen on his face, and I felt bad to keep reaching out, to keep hanging around when he often had to help me put my pieces back together. But he wouldn't leave, and I convinced myself that I wasn't getting too involved, that I needed him for a purpose and that was it, nothing else. Obviously, I was very wrong."
And that was it. The hand that had been gripping Bella's neck slid downwards to her back, his arm wrapping around her waist until he manhandle her body to sit on his lap. He needed he close to have that conversation.
Bella shifted to get comfortable, but didn't shy away from his touch. She was on a roll, and the words just kept on coming. "When he shifted and disappeared... It was far too familiar. Straight away I thought that that was it — I had lost another boy I had opened my heart to. And although I never loved Jacob in a romantic fashion, he still had my love, he knows that. He knows that I care, more than I probably should... and he still left. Vanished without a single phone call. It was hell all over again, only now with double the layer of self-flagellation because, honestly, I should've known better than to get it so damn wrong two times in a row."
"He couldn't call you, Bella. We can't ignore the alpha order — it's not like he didn't want to. Trust me, I was inside his mind, okay? The boy thought about you all of the time. It wasn't because of nothing you did."
"I get that. I don't know how to explain what months on end of self-hate and shame will do to the mind — I don't think even I understand the full scope yet, but it suffices to say that I still don't have a clue to what the hell I'm doing and how I'm even holding myself together to live my normal life," Bella explained with a pained grimace. "Even now, that I'm an insider — that I get why Jake had to leave — it still stings. Not because I don't think he did what he could, but because it seems too much of a coincidence that this keeps happening to me." A pause. "I don't know if I'm explaining this well enough or if you think I'm a total nutcase…"
"Of course you are not, Bella. You have to— And me?" Paul asked, even though he wasn't sure if he could handle the answer. "Bella, you have to know—"
"I know. You said imprint is for life, right? So I'm going to be honest with you — I'm tired of having to be the one who understands and forgives. I am. Seriously. I know that you had your reasons; I know that you never meant to make me feel bad; I know all of that. I do. But it doesn't mean I don't hate it. Doesn't mean I don't think it will happen again."
Which was only fair, if Paul saw it from an objective point of view. Bella deserved a break more than anyone else he knew.
"I can force my mind to believe it when you say you can be whatever I need, because if that was the truth, then you wouldn't have done that. I'm a grown woman, Paul, I can take whatever," his mate said, looking him in the eyes, and Paul could see that she meant every word, that she was transmitting a message he needed to understand. "Supernatural? Sure. Craziness? Bring it on. Yell, scream, shout, and pull all our hairs out? I'm good for it every day if I have to. But what you all do — vanish from the planet, knowing that you have supernatural powers that leave me at a completely different game field? That destroys me, Paul."
She took a deep breath before adding, "I'm tired of feeling like shit. Like I'm not good enough just for being human. I'm sick of it. I can't help being what I am, and I can't change it either."
"I promise I'm not gonna do that to you again. If you can't trust me yet, it's fine, I understand. If this is what it takes, kid, I'm gonna glue myself to your side until you're so goddamn tired of me you'll ask for a break, I swear," Paul promised, swearing to himself that he would not be another man to make Bella suffer — he refused. "Just… don't give up on me."
He closed both his arms around her, needing to feel that she hadn't left him, that she was still here. He couldn't lose her — not Bella. Not his imprint.
Yet, Bella said nothing. She remained in his arms, but said nothing. It wasn't needed, for the silence spoke louder than any word she might have said.
