Bella's gaze was facing the large field of wild strawberries that Edward had been leading them to. It was even more beautiful than Jacob had remembered.

In a large clearing in the middle of the woods, off the beaten path, was a carpet of red gracing the forest floor. A sweet smell lingered in the air, and the occasional yellow daisy shot up between the strawberry plants. Combined with the sun shining an ethereal light down from above, the scene before them looked very much like a painting.

"I knew you'd like it, Bells," Jacob said enthusiastically, but he was looking at Edward. Did Edward like it? Was he happy?

Edward didn't meet Jacob's gaze, but smiled eagerly at Bella, "Why don't you go pick some to bring back to the house?" He let go of her hand.

"You don't want to join me?" Bella moaned, asking Edward but looking at both of them.

"I'll enjoy the view from here," Edward said, swiftly disappearing just to show up again sitting on a fallen tree stem at the edge of the field. He was conveniently shrouded in shadow, not letting his skin glisten in the sun. Jacob felt a pang of sadness at the fact that Edward was always hiding his true self from the world. Even far away from everyone else he didn't let himself off the hook.

"What about you, Jake?" Bella smiled, but the smile didn't have the same impact on him as it used to before. He had made Bella happy by bringing her there, now he wanted to be selfish. Edward was right there, he couldn't waste his time picking berries. Edward had no need for berries.

"I… I'm a bit warm, I'll just go cool down in the shade with Edward for a minute first," he mustered, "I'll be right with you." He didn't even really wait for Bella's response before hurrying over to where Edward was sitting, but he could see her heading out into the field in his side vision.

"Can I… Uhm?" Jacob stuttered, gesturing towards the empty space next to Edward on the tree stem. Edward just glanced at him as if he looked as stupid as he felt. Jacob sat down, feeling the closeness to Edward's body burn in his side.

Edward's eyes were following Bella as she slowly bent over and picked a strawberry, popping it readily into her mouth. Jacob was watching Edward. Should he say something? What should he say? The weather's nice… Bella really likes strawberries… Did Edward like strawberries… before…? How did he know of this place? Why would he be in a random place in the woods this close to the reservation? Did he go there with someone?

"Can you shut up?" Edward blurted out, a bewildered expression plastered across his face, "Why are your thoughts so horrendously loud?!"

"I… don't know how to turn it off…" Jacob muttered, "I just… want to know more about you..."

Edward breathed loudly, almost sighing, and after a short silence he turned to look at Jacob, "I can't recall the taste," he said bluntly.

"What?"

"I can't recall the taste of strawberries," Edward said, with a bitterness to his tone, "But I remember vividly how my mother used to take me out into her garden every summer to harvest the berries she grew there." He paused and looked across the field lovingly, "She used to make jam out of the raspberries and blackberries, that was quite the housewifely hobby back then, you see," He laughed a little, "but she kept a few small plants of wild strawberries that she let me care for by myself."

Jacob felt the warmth Edward harbored for his mother seeping through his words, and he recoiled at the sadness that drenched every sentence because of her inevitable death.

"She'd teach me how to rinse them, and how to heat them up to just the right temperature to achieve the right texture. We'd do it every summer until suddenly all the berries in the garden disappeared."

Jacob tilted his head, "Gone?" he asked.

"My father wasn't too pleased with my mother teaching his son homemaking," Edward's eyes stopped roaming and fixated onto a point in the distance, "So he did what any responsible father would do, and pulled all the berries out of the ground, even my mother's." Edward's voice was devoid of emotion. The pain behind the memory had surely been wiped out by time, but Jacob could see the sadness that was once there. It lingered in Edward's eyes.

"How old were you?" Jacob asked curiously, and Edward furrowed his brow.

"I must have been around nine," he said, "much too old to caper around in the garden with your mother." Edward's tone was slightly sarcastic.

Jacob felt dejected at the thought of young Edward being unable to do what made him happy. When Jacob was nine was when his own mother had died, and he'd give almost anything to get to spend another day painting in the garden with her. Surely Edward felt the same.

Edward glanced over at him, before turning back to the field, "I'm sorry about your mother," he said sympathetically. Jacob was sorry too.

"What was your mother's name?" Jacob asked caringly, wanting to know more about what kind of woman had created Edward, and trying to guide the conversation in a more positive direction.

"Elizabeth Mason," Edward's eyes lit up as he spoke her name, "she always had a keen sense of knowing things," he paused, "I sometimes have a foolish wish she was here to guide me still."

Jacob closed his eyes, "She sounds lovely," he almost whispered, remembering how he'd craved his own mother's guidance lately.

"She was," Edward smiled, looking out across the field, "which is why I planted this garden in her memory the first time we lived in Forks, in 1936…"

He what? Jacob's eyes shot up. He didn't know how to respond to that revelation. They were sitting in Edward's garden? One he created decades before Jacob was even born, and now Jacob had unknowingly brought them there.

He'd found the garden while out on a run once. His mind had been clear, and his large wolf body was moving on pure instinct when he suddenly felt drawn in another direction. He didn't even try to ponder what it was before running full speed towards it. He ran for a good while before he stopped right there in the clearing, surrounded by white blooming strawberry plants.

It must have been mother nature guiding him, drawing him towards Edward's presence even before he was ready to feel the full force of the imprint. He'd come back there several times last year, watching the seasons change in the field as he let go of his worries for a while. In a way, Edward had been his sense of calm even back then…

Edward let out a slight laugh, "You always have a… romantic spin on things," he said, letting his eyes wander back towards Jacob's own. Edward's focus was finally directed only at him, and Jacob held his breath as Edward stared at him intensely. His eyes seemed to have an essence of urgency to them that spread butterflies across Jacob's stomach. Did Edward feel that? Did he feel the same need to lean in and kiss–

"You should go assist Bella," Edward abruptly stated, hastily ripping his gaze away from Jacob's hungry eyes.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean–" Jacob started, but Edward cut him off–

"Just go," he said with an edge to his voice, and Jacob did as he was told without further question.

"Hi, Bells, need another set of hands? You're going pretty slow," Jacob laughed as sincerely as possible, but he once again felt defeated.