I didn't even recognize myself anymore. There was nothing familiar about anything anymore; not the way I walked or talked or…breathed. The 30 days I was at home began to blur together as soon as I let myself slip into this robotic shell of who I thought I was. Between living and sleeping in my dad's favorite flannel so much that it's starting not to smell like him anymore and visiting his grave twice a day, there wasn't much room for me to do anything else. My professors at Columbia were nice enough to give me some leeway on my schoolwork; I could do my assignments from La Push and email them in…

But that was working under the assumption that I was actually doing my work. Which I wasn't. "Make sure you do your homework, Aila," my mother would tell me before she left for the hospital. I'd nod uncommittedly and wait until I heard her car engine fade from the house. And then I would curl up on my father's spot on the couch in his flannel and I wouldn't move for hours and hours and hours. I did that for a week. Week three to be exact. It's like I found some new way to fixate and sulk each week.

Let me break it down for you.

Week one was the funeral. There were too many things to get in order for the service and everything. I was somewhere between being crippled with anxiety and completely numb while I helped Mom.

Week two I stopped eating and wouldn't come out of my room except to go to Dad's grave. Mom would knock on my door every morning to check on me. "Just make a noise so I know I don't need to send for help," she'd call out. I would cough twice. "Good enough," she would sigh before going downstairs. Seth would try to get me to come out, but after a couple of days, he just gave up. He was spending more and more time at his girlfriend's house to avoid how heavy the air was in this house. Mom was doing something similar; she had only taken a few days off of work. She needed the distraction…I couldn't fault her for it. We were all dealing with it how we could.

While we weren't exactly on speaking terms, Paul was the only person I would allow into my space during week two. He knew my window would be open at night. He would crawl in while I was sleeping and crawl out before I would wake up. But I could always hear him talking to me. About us. About Dad. I think that was his way of coping with it. And then, he would come through the front door as if he hadn't been in my bed all night, make me toast and scrambled eggs and leave it outside my bedroom door. I thought it was weird at first, but I realized that he was giving me the option instead of forcing me to show him I was taking care of myself. I would thank him for that eventually, I promise.

Then something snapped in me at the end of that week. It was this little voice in the back of my brain that told me I needed to get out of bed. I stripped it completely before walking out of my bedroom. I picked up the plate of toast and scrambled eggs off of the ground and walked downstairs. It was immaculately clean. Rachel's doing, I'm sure. And Paul was washing up the little bit of dishes in the sink. He turned when I walked into the kitchen, and he looked so surprised to see me.

"Hey," he sighed in slight relief. I set the plate down on the kitchen table mindlessly before taking a bite out of the toast, dropping it back onto the plate, and giving him a tight, empty smile. He followed me into the living room where I first took my place in Dad's seat on the couch. I curled up real tight, but I was all cried out. He sat next to me, quietly. "I told the guys I'd meet up with them after I was done here, but…I can stay, if you want me to."

I just shrugged. God, say something. Say anything please.

Paul turned my chin until I was facing him. I couldn't even really see him. It was like my body was rejecting everything, even him. "Lee," he said quietly, "baby, I need you to tell me what you need."

I didn't know what I needed. I simultaneously needed him to stay and for him to go away at the same time. It was easier when he was around while I was asleep. Because he didn't expect me to answer him, to know what to say. My lips parted and I realized how dry my throat was. "Nothing matters," was all I said. Even my own voice sounded different now.

"I…" he sighed, "I don't know what that means, Lee."

Don't leave me. "Do whatever you want," I said coldly.

The pack was still hunting for that red headed vampire bitch who killed my father. Paul didn't know I knew; it was something I had heard him talking about with Jared outside my window. I understood that this Bella girl was really important to Jacob, but I couldn't help but feel incredibly annoyed that this entire situation was centering around her and her dumb, pale face.

And I hated that I knew I was acting unreasonably. But it was hard to stop. "I'm sorry…" I whispered. "I don't know what I need right now."

"Ok," he nodded, feeling a little encouraged. "That's ok. We can just stay here. Do you want to watch Grey's Anatomy?"

I shook my head. "Too many people die on that show," I explained sadly. My heart squeezed as I held back tears. Paul pulled me to his chest right as the sob shook out of me. I could admit that I was probably handling this the worst out of all of us. It was like the hole in my chest was just this dull aching that I wished would stop. But the only way it would stop was if my dad came back. And I waited for days for him to show up in my dreams or talk to me, but it hadn't happened yet. I worried it never would.

"Hey, look at me," he said quietly as he pushed my stray hairs out of my face. "Why don't we go see him today? How does that sound?"

I felt myself nodding, but I didn't feel like I had control over my body.

"One step at a time, ok? Let's go upstairs."

I let him lead me upstairs to the bathroom. He turned on the shower, but he kept the lights off as to not overstimulate me. Paul asked me really softly if he could undress me before undressing himself too and stepping into the water. That's how we ended up sitting at the bottom of the tub; he was just cradling me as I let the tears stream down my face. He washed my body so delicately, it was as if he was worried I would just crumble between his fingers. After he finished, he just held me until the water ran cold. I didn't realize that it was cold as he shampooed my hair, conditioned, combed through it. And the whole time, he was telling me his favorite stories about my dad, saying how proud Daddy was of me, and how lucky we both were to love him and be loved by him.

Watching in the mirror as Paul attempted to pull my hair in a ponytail, I felt myself almost smile at how silly he looked with his tongue sticking out in concentration and how he kept fumbling to loop the elastic around again. "I've got it," I told him as I reached behind me to put my hands over top his. "Thank you."

"It's harder than it looks," he tried to joke.

I actually laughed. "So you can make a perfect omelet, but you can't manage a hair tie?" I managed back.

Paul's eyes lit up as they met mine in the mirror. He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss on my shoulder. The only other thing I was wishing for was to be back in our little apartment in Harlem. It felt like that was the only place now I wanted to be other than by my father's side. Because it was safe. It was my love bubble with Paul where absolutely nothing was wrong. I wanted to go back to before the cabin, before the gala, before everything got messy. Before all of that, two things were true at the same time: Paul and I were blissfully in love, almost annoyingly so if you ask our friends, and my dad was a phone call away at all times.

Going to his grave was the next best thing. So we got dressed, me in my regular clothes and my dad's flannel, him in some of the clothes I'd stolen from him. The sun was actually shining for the first time in weeks. Paul grabbed my car keys, but I shook my head. "We should walk. It's nice out today," I told him.

He nodded. "Whatever you want."

We held hands as we walked down the road, taking little steps to take in the sunshine. I was chewing my bottom lip raw. "You know he was proud of you too?" I started. "You know how Sam was saying that he was everyone's cheerleader when we were in high school? That's only half true. I don't know if he ever told you this, but he only used to go to the football games for you."

"What? Really?" he asked.

I nodded my head. "Yeah," I sniffled. "He wouldn't say 'let's go to the boys' game.' He would always say 'we gotta go see Paul play.' And he'd make us all go, rain or shine." I smiled a little at the memory. It was such a pain back then, but knowing what I know now, I admired him for his dedication in loving Paul as much as he loved us.

"I—I never knew that," he muttered.

I squeezed his hand. "He loved you so much more than you know."

We were almost to the cemetery when we heard Paul's name behind us. Jared was running toward us, an alert look on his face. When he stopped, he looked at me with sympathetic eyes. "Hey Lee, how are you feeling?"

"What do you need, Jared?" Paul asked, a little clipped.

"We spotted the red head just outside of Forks heading for the sheriff's house. We gotta go."

"What? No." His answer was immediate. He didn't even think about it.

Jared glanced between both of us with his jaw clenched as he tried to reason. "Paul, come on. We need you. You're one of the strongest we've got."

"You could handle it before without me," Paul reminded me as he turned us in the other direction. "Figure it out."

"Paul—" Jared grabbed his arm.

Paul yanked away from him and got real close to Jared's face. "Figure it the fuck out, Jared. Now is not the time."

I didn't anticipate that being in a relationship with a wolf meant that I would have to share my time with a pack of other people. A world, really. His duty as a wolf was to protect people. People like me who wouldn't be able to defend myself against a vampire attack. And…people like Bella Swan who don't understand that their blindsided actions have shitty consequences for the people around them. He wasn't just mine anymore; as long as he was here, he belonged to the lands. "You should go," I heard myself say. They had been arguing back and forth in their attempts at hushed tones.

Paul's head turned toward me with shocked eyes. "What?"

"It's fine," I told him. "They…they need you." I do too.

Jared pulled Paul's arm again. "We have a real chance to take this bitch out once and for all. Come on." he paused. "For Harry."

I would have a hard time later forgiving Jared for using my father as a reason to go hunt a vampire. Especially, considering how involved they would all become in this whole Bella Swan fiasco. It only got worse after my father's death.

Paul cursed under his breath as he ran a hand over his face. He glared at Jared before pivoting back to me. He took my hands in his and looked me deep in the eye. "Leah," he said gruffly. "Say the word and I will tell him to leave without me. We can go see Harry and go home. I can make cinnamon rolls for us…we can spend the rest of the day in bed. Just say the word…right now."

It was almost like he was begging me. He wanted me to be the reason why he couldn't go fight. But…I don't know if I could be that for him. Looking down at our joined hands, I took a second to think about it. And I let that small voice in my head be selfish for a second. I could tell him to blow Jared off and come sit with me while I talked to my dad. I knew that if I told him that I never wanted him to put himself in front of a vampire ever again, he would. Paul would give me that power. And then there was this part of me that wondered if he would feel that justice for Dad by going with Jared. If he killed her…would he feel vindicated? Would I? "You should go," I repeated.

He didn't even look hurt; he looked defeated. He shook his head in disbelief. "You mean it?" he asked. I nodded. When he dropped my hands, I thought I might cry again. "I guess, I'll come by later or something…"

"Sounds good…" I murmured.

Before they ran off, Jared looked at me and said, "I'm sorry, Leah. Thank you."

I took my time the rest of the walk, noticing how different it was walking alone. Even when we were unsure of where we were, Paul still always felt like a blanket of love over me. That kind of love that I felt like I didn't deserve. It was unconditional, devoted love.

I sat down in front of the little popsicle stick marker labeled "Harry Clearwater." There were fresh flowers in front of it, but no card. "Hi Daddy…"

XXXXXXXXX

They didn't catch that red headed bitch if you didn't guess that already. In fact, they ran her all the way to the Canadian border before coming back. But, as I said before, the rest of that week, I was glued to the couch so…the only way I found out was when Paul would come over after I was already asleep. "I want to get her for you, Lee," he'd told me one night. "And then everything will be fine again."

Week four was when everyone was ready to get back to normal life. Bex had begged her university to stay a little bit longer, but I knew eventually she'd have to go back. So she and Rachel would come over and sit with me. Sometimes in complete, peaceful silence. Sometimes they would talk around me to lessen the pressure of the weight on my chest. "Jacob has just been so moody lately," Rachel said as she wiped down our coffee table. She was an anxious cleaner. "Bella has him on a damn emotional rollercoaster."

"She's really fucking annoying," Bex rolled her eyes. "She'll just show up at the house uninvited. For no reason. And then she'll get upset when he's busy with the guys."

"He deserves better. I thought we taught him better than that," Rachel sighed.

"He has to figure it out for himself, guys," I said. "It would be so easy to just tell him what to do, but he won't learn that way."

"Well, she's going to get a fucking mouthful if she keeps this up," Bex promised.

Bex was flying out in a couple of days, and Paul and I had booked a flight for the day after to go back to New York. I was ready to get back; I didn't want to sit and wallow in my own self-pity anymore. I missed New York. Not as much as I miss spending time with my best friends though.

Bex cleared her throat the way she always did when she was about to drop a bomb. "So…when were you guys going to tell me about the whole turning into big dogs thing?" Bex asked before taking a sip of her soda.

I looked at Rachel who was staring at me with wide eyes. "How did you…?" Rachel trailed off.

"I was taking a little walk the other night and ran into Embry Call before he mysteriously ran off into the woods with no clothes on. And then he was this eight-foot tall…beast? What the hell's that about?"

Rachel was pale as a ghost, and I heard her start to stutter. But it was all so comical that I actually felt myself laugh. I shook my head as I let the hysterics roll out of me. What had our little reservation life become? Was it always going to be vampires and werewolves and…what was next? Fairies and witches? "Oh no, it happened," Rachel said, her voice laced in concern. "She's lost it. Her mind is gone."

I put my face in my hands as I settled into small chuckles. "Jesus," I groaned. "Who even cares anymore? Nothing matters. None of this matters."

"Leah, honey?" Bex said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "You good?"

"God, how was it just 6 months ago that we were more worried about what we were going to wear to the Black party than…any of this shit?" I asked. "Before the boys turned into animals and before some vindictive vampire bitch killed my dad, the biggest secrets we were hiding were college admissions letters. Nothing matters. None of this is real. In a few days, Bex is going to go back to Hawaii, I'm going to go back to New York, and everything will still be fucked up, but you know what? This super magic shit won't matter."

I didn't miss how the look they exchanged was so full of sadness and understanding. Bex rested her hand on top of mine and squeezed it. "It gets easier, I promise," was all she said. I trusted that she was right…but right now, I couldn't even think about the day when this wouldn't hurt this much.

The three of us froze at the sound of shouting outside. We turned around to look out of the window to see what all of the commotion was. A furious looking Bella was marching up to Jared, Paul, Embry, and Quil, yelling and all red in the face. "What the hell…?" Rachel mumbled.

We watched as she pushed Jared in the chest, her voice spitting venom, whatever she was saying. "Oh, this bitch needs to remember where her seat is," Bex said as she got up. We all scrambled out of the door. From the yard, Paul and Embry let out a small laugh at this tiny girl in front of them trying to stand up for whatever made her mad that day. We were right in front of them when she slapped Paul right across the face. "Bella, get back right now," Jared said. "Paul, calm down," he tried to get Paul to relax, but it was too late. His entire body erupted into violent shakes; I watched as the wolf overtook him, and he phased.

"What the hell is going on?" I yelled as Paul let out a feral growl.

"You guys need to get out of here now!" Jared said as he tried to get Paul away.

"Bella!" Jacob called from their little red house. He jumped over the railing of the porch and phased in midair as he ran toward us. Bella fell backward, gasping. Rachel, the kind soul that she is, scrambled to get Bella to stand up out of the line of fire. Jacob let out a ferocious roar at Paul as the other guys were trying to get them both to relax.

Jared looked at me and commanded, "Go!"

"Wait, let me talk to him," I tried, stepping toward Paul.

"Leah, I'm not going to tell you again!" Jared barked. "Get in the house! All of you!"

We ran back into my house, closing the back screen door tight behind us. Bex and I stayed glued to it and watched as Jacob tackled Paul, jaws snapping. Paul didn't take it easy though; he fought back hard. And soon they were rolling around each other into the woods and out of sight. The only thing left was the sound of their bodies colliding with each other and with the ground, you could feel it shake underneath your feet. "Jesus…" Bex sighed.

I shook my head in frustration. Everything about this was just triggering my fight or flight. And I was leaning heavy on flight. Watching Jared, Embry, and Quil run after Paul and Jacob made me feel like I was getting close to my breaking point. We kept our eyes on the door for a few more minutes, waiting for the boys to reappear. And eventually, they did. All of this drama and Paul and Jacob were laughing and pushing each other as if they weren't at each other's throats just a minute ago. Then I heard myself say, "I can't wait to get out of here and go back to Manhattan…" before walking away from the door.

Bella was complaining behind us that it was unfair that they were keeping her away from Jacob and that he didn't want this. That—somehow—Jared and the others had forced this on him. She just kept going on and on. Good lord, shut up. Rachel was trying to rationalize with her, "Bella, we know this is a lot to deal with, but the boys being wolves affects all of us. Especially Jacob—seeing him go through this is so hard for me and for Becca and our father." Then she lowered her voice, "And with what happened to Harry, it's even more difficult for us to figure out. You understand that, right?"

I rolled my eyes. It was like talking to a five-year-old. Rebecca came up next to me with her arms crossed tight over her chest. "I just feel like it's unfair that Jacob can't choose," Bella said, shrinking into herself. "He should have a choice."

"Thank your vampire boyfriend for taking that choice away from him," Bex remarked with the kind of snark that could kill. "Some things are more important than your feelings being hurt. Do you understand that?"

"Back off, Becca," Jacob's voice entered the house before he did.

The other boys walked in so easy going, so unbothered, Paul just before Jake. Paul met my eye almost instantly and mouthed, "Hi." I managed a small smile and waved at him. Around us, the Black siblings were arguing with one another. Paul hooked his thumb behind him, silently asking me if I wanted to get out of here. I nodded immediately, trying to tune out the dramatics.

"Let's all just calm down for a second! This is not the place or space for that!" I heard Rachel yell over everyone as I managed to slip out of the back door, Paul following close behind me.

We wound up at the diner. The bell at the top of the door rang out as we opened the door and we ended up sitting in our same old booth in the back like we used to in high school. Sam's mom, Allison, was there with a bright smile and a warm hug. "Oh my goodness, it's so good to see you kiddos. I've missed your cute faces around here."

Paul ordered enough food to feed an entire country, it seemed, while I picked at a plate of French fries and sipped a little of my strawberry milkshake. He just kept looking at me like I was going to disappear at any second. Then he glanced down at the burger in his hand, split it in half, and presented it to me. Like that night. I shook my head, resisting a smile. "No, I can't take your food," I told him.

"Come on, Lee, we're well past that," he said, bumping my shoulder. He was thoughtful for a second as he pushed my hair away from my face. "Lee, I'm—"

"Please don't apologize…" I said quietly.

"Will you just let me?" he asked. Paul pushed his plates away from him and turned to me. He entangled our hands slowly as he thought through what he wanted to say. "I know how hard all of this has been on you and I don't want to be another thing that's adding stress to your life. I'm…I'm sorry, Leah. For today, for putting the pack before you the other day, for…for blowing up at you back in New York. I just feel like I can't say sorry enough for everything that's happened in the past month. Being away from you has been the hardest part of all of this."

It was hard to believe it had been a month already. I think I was still in denial because then I'd have to acknowledge that I'd been without my dad for a month. And all of those other things that happened before just seemed like they didn't matter anymore. I'd maybe thought about what happened at the cabin maybe once? And the gala maybe one more time than that? I looked at him and I could see the despair in his eyes. I wanted to say something…anything, really. Instead, I just leaned forward and pressed my lips to his, tenderly and gingerly. I don't know when I started to feel like I couldn't tell Paul how I felt, but it was the scariest thing I'd ever experienced. So I couldn't say it was ok or that I forgave him. There was so much that was stirring inside me that I was at a loss for words.

"I just miss you, Lee," he whispered against my lips.

"I'm right here," I told him, squeezing his hand. "Do you want to get out of here?"

"And go where?" he asked me.

"Anywhere," I shrugged. "Anywhere away from here."

XXXXXXXXX

That's how we ended up out at San Juan Islands again. It took a while to convince Paul to actually get on the ferry. "I don't know, Lee…I don't want to phase again. What if I hurt someone?" he said, his eyes wide.

"You won't," I reassured him, softly. "You're with me."

We made it on the last ferry to the island of the night. The sun was setting over the horizon like a beautiful blend of pinks and oranges. If I had had my camera, I would have snapped a picture of it immediately. But…I didn't even notice that I didn't have my camera. When was the last time I'd touched it?

Paul didn't sit the whole ride; he just watched the water quietly and intensely. Paul wore every single thought that he had on his face. I could see that it was just now setting in for him that he had phased out of anger in front of mortals. He was wringing his hands anxiously and his leg started shaking up and down. The fear in his amber eyes was unlike anything I had seen in him before.

So I went to him, entwining our fingers, and feeling the slight tremble in his hand. I curled my body into his and rested my head of his shoulder. All he did was press his face into my hair and breathe in deep.

Without a word, we made our way to the beach, away from the families and happy couples. Away from the chatter and laughter and noise. And we sat in the sand close to the water and we let our feet get wet. Paul let out a small chuckle next to me. "Maybe we should have brought swimsuits," he commented.

My face brightened a little as an idea sparked. "Do we really need them?" I challenged him. I stood up and reached down for him. "Come on."

"What are you doing, Lee?" he asked as I took a glance around to see who was nearby. It was finally dark outside, no lampposts, no lighting anywhere. I took off my dad's flannel and dropped it next to Paul. Pulling my shirt over my head, I looked down at him and winked before stepping out of my sweatpants. He was looking at me like I was a whole other person, a small smirk gracing his face. I did a little spin in my red bra and panties, thanking myself for actually caring to match them today. Then I made a run for it into the water; I shrieked at how cold it was, but there was something so reinvigorating about it. He jumped to his feet, trying to strip down to his boxers and chase after me at the same time.

For the first time in I didn't even know how long, I felt so free as he wrapped his arms around my waist and swung me around right as a wave hit. All of the water around us warmed in his presence. Paul picked me up until my legs were hooked on his hips and he drew me into a searing kiss. I buried my hands in his wet hair as I kissed him back with everything in me. I heard myself moan as his hands roamed my body. Almost like he was memorizing me. His kisses were desperate, something I'd never felt from him. He broke away from my lips and trailed his lips along my neck and into my chest. My head fell back as I sighed. All I could do was take it all in.

"I love you," I breathed as I pushed my chest closer to his mouth.

"You're everything to me, Leah. Everything," he told me.

"Please don't ever leave me." Whoa, where the fuck did that come from?

Despite having absolutely no idea where that plea came from, I still expected to hear him say that, no, he would never leave. That he would stay with me. Forever. Whatever forever meant. Maybe it was because I was feeling sensitive about my father or maybe all of that pent up frustration from the past couple of months had finally manifested itself into those five simple words. But instead of that reassurance, I just felt him freeze against me.

Paul lifted his head right as I did, and we locked eyes. There was that fear again. I felt his hands grip my thighs, but not in that way that he did when we were about to have sex. His gaze dropped to the water surrounding us. The waves rocked us back and forth and that was really the only thing that was keeping us on earth. "Leah…" he whispered.

"No." I shook my head. I didn't know what he was going to say, but I knew that I didn't want to hear it.

He let out a heavy sigh. "Please don't be upset."

"'Be upset…'" I shook my head as I untangled myself from him. I was floating and it almost felt like some kind of fucked up metaphor. But who fucking cares to figure out what it even is or what it means? "Do I even want to know?"

I've known Paul Lahote my entire life and I'd never seen him to not have something to say. Or rather, I'd never seen him struggle with his words as much as he was right now. "I lost control today," he started. "And it's not the first time I've lost control recently. I phased in Central Park; I got lucky someone didn't see me. But today? I could have really hurt that girl or you or Rebecca or Rachel. Fighting Jake…I never want to hurt that kid. He's too good."

"So what are you saying?" I asked, unconsciously putting some distance between us.

He reached for me. "Can you just come here, please?"

"What are you saying?" I repeated.

Paul wiped some of the water from his face as he tried to find his wording. "I already talked to Jared, and he thinks I should stay home for a couple more months just to regain my composure. And if we catch that red head in that time too, that would be even better. But I think…I think he's right…"

My heart—whatever was left of it—had sunk into my stomach like a brick. The thought of leaving my home without my father and without the love of my life felt like a special kind of rock bottom. "You're not coming back to New York with me…" I managed to whisper.

"Just for now, baby. I just need two- or three-months tops. And then I'll be back, I promise."

I felt the tears on my cheeks before I realized they were falling from my eyes. Wiping them quickly, I swan toward the beach. I was sad. I was furious. I was…heartbroken. I gathered my clothes and started to walk away as fast as I could, trying to get a deep enough breath in to calm down.

"Lee," he called after me. "Talk to me, Lee; tell me what's on your mind."

When he grabbed my wrist, I was surprised at how quickly I snatched away from him. "No." My voice shook. "This isn't fair. You can't just—no."

"This is for my own good and yours, Leah," he tried to explain. "I'm doing this for you!"

"For me?" I exclaimed. "Bullshit you're doing this for me. If you were doing anything for me, you would be coming home with me this weekend. If you were doing anything for me, you won't let me get on another plane by myself. You want to do something for me? Tell me the real reason why you're not coming back with me."

He looked hurt and confused. "What do you mean real reason, Leah? That is my real reason!"

My head dropped in front of me as I listened to my ears start to ring. Then I looked up at him and swallowed down my tears. "Paul, I see you with those boys. I haven't seen you that happy in so long. And I get it; no one else knows what you're going through except for those boys. I can only understand so much and…I've been trying so hard to understand." I was about to break out in sobs as I managed to say, "I've tried so hard to keep you happy."

He took two strong steps until he was in front of me. Paul took my face into his hands. "Leah, you existing makes me happy. I meant what I said, you are everything to me. I need you to trust me right now."

"And I need you to tell me the truth," I whispered. I wiped my tears away as I sniffled. "Things haven't been right since that first night at the cabin, I know that. I let myself get dragged into that dumb gala and I still can't get the way you looked at me that night out of my head. And I knew in my heart that we could figure out how to fix it. How to make it work…"

"None of that stuff matters, Lee," he tried to assure me.

"No, you're right. That stuff doesn't matter right now. Because my dad died, and all of that became so small. But it would be stupid for either of us to stand here and think that it'll be like normal going back to New York." I paused. "And now you're telling me you're not coming back."

"Just for a couple of months." He was begging me to understand with his eyes.

"Paul, we both know that if I get on that plane and you're not next to me, you're never coming back," I said outright. His face was riddled with shock. "You can say it's a couple of months, and then what will happen when it's been a couple of months and nothing's changed for you? What if it's not different? If you want me to trust you, you need me to be honest. Not just with me, but with yourself. You've missed being home; that's obvious. If you feel like you've found your purpose here and you want to figure that out, just say that. I won't keep you from being happy…"

I lost my father and the one man I had ever truly loved to the same thing. No, not the heart attack. The supernatural. I couldn't keep asking Paul to make those life changes for me; he'd already done so much. And I knew in his heart of hearts, he really did think it would only take a couple of months for everything to be under control. But that's the thing about life that no one ever wants to really talk about. Nothing is ever really over when you want it to be. I can honestly say my father's death was only the beginning of the pack's involvement with Bella and her vampires and whoever was hunting her—whoever killed my father.

I didn't fault him for not being next to me when Jared told me about my father. Or for going with the pack instead of with me to my father's grave. Or even for losing his cool after Bella slapped him. I could never fault him for any of those things. It's unchartered territory. So…three days later, when I was putting my suitcase in the trunk of my mother's car and I looked up to see Paul Lahote, in a pair of sweatpants standing on his front porch, watching me, all I could do was say, "I love you."

And he said, "I'll always love you."

I flew back to New York by myself. It was the first time…and I didn't know if it would be the last.