*DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga and its characters. This is purely artistic fiction drawn with inspiration from Stephenie Meyer's words.

*WARNING: This chapter contains an ED discussion and may be triggering for some readers. I've included two splits to signal the beginning of the topic and one when it's finished. Take care of your mental health~

After years of holding back her emotions, Bella finally allowed herself to cry. And not just a few tears, either. Her sobs echoed through the small kitchen, and she felt a sense of deep release. She had spent so much time and energy suppressing her emotions, trying to cater to other people's needs, never permitting herself to fully feel. The walls of her iron fortress had crumbled, and she was no longer afraid to hide. She felt lighter, freer, and more comfortable than ever before.

The tightness in her chest melted away, and her tear-streaked face relaxed. Her shoulders dropped, her breathing steadied, and her mind cleared. She sniffled weakly, pushing out of his hold to wipe away any evidence of tears. A sudden wave of embarrassment heated her cheeks. How long had she cried for?

"Do you feel better now?" He whispered, rubbing the middle of her back.

"Y-yeah. A little. I suppose that was long overdue." Bella croaked.

"I'll gladly be your shoulder to cry on." The right corner of his mouth curled up, and he flashed a smirk, "you know what would help you feel even better? If you finish your sandwich. A full belly does wonders for the soul."

"No, I'm not very hungry." She hid her disheveled face within her sleeve.

"What's wrong? Do you not like it? I can make you somethin' else."

"It's not that." She exhaled unevenly, "the sandwich is fine."

Bella was struggling to tell him she hated eating. Food always tasted fantastic, but she physically couldn't stomach it. She was incapable of having more than a few bites. Too much always made her sick.

"Is it the grape jelly? I shoulda asked if you wanted strawberry." His brow furrowed in question.

"No, no—" Bella straightened. "I have a tiny stomach. I get full really easy."

"Bells, you only took one bite." He peered down at her, eyeing her incredulously. "There's no way that made you full."

"It's been like this for a while now. I'm not hungry."

"How is that possible? I'm constantly eating everything in sight and never get full." He shook his head, a hesitant smile gracing his full lips.

"Your guess is as good as mine," she paused, unsure of how to word it, "biting into stuff, chewing—it makes me feel like I'm gonna puke."

"What?" He inquired, gingerly capturing her chin to study her expression. "Are you nauseous all the time?"

"No, not all the time."

"Have you seen a doctor? You could be really sick." His mouth formed into a hard line.

"I'm fine, Jake." She grimaced, averting her gaze. "It's sort of subconscious. I try not to think about it. If I force myself to eat, I'll throw up."

"Oh, my God. Bella—" his jaw popped open, "are you starving yourself?"

He appraised her, releasing her chin. That made Bella feel even worse. A memory of Edward commenting on how lovely she looked when her collarbones protruded from under her skin played on a demented loop inside her mind. Alice commended her for how thin she was, comparing her to a runway model. She felt gross and tried to hide her low weight with baggy clothes. Her stomach delved into intricate knots, and she rejected the aforementioned thought.

Her voice dwindled to a timid whisper, "no, I don't... I don't think so."

"What is it then?" He held her shoulders, steadying himself for something he didn't want to hear.

"Honestly, I've never given it much thought. No one questioned it, aside from my dad and you."

"That's because he's human. Bella—we're human. We have to eat to live. What would make you not want to eat?"

"When I was around the Cullen's, they'd forget I needed human food. So I stopped eating as much. Eventually, I forgot, too... The few times I ate around them—they'd be disgusted with the sight of it. How the food smelled and the fact I ate it. I wanted so much to be like them. I became someone I didn't recognize."

He said nothing, patiently listening to Bella's recollection. The wide muscle that ran from the end of his jaw to his chin ticked twice. She watched it with bated breath.

Bella continued, "I know what you're thinking. You can quit any time. Like I said, it's a lot. I'm a lot," her hands trembled, "I'm trying to get better, really I am."

"No. I'm not quitting or giving up. You're not some video game, you're a person." He stated bluntly. His baritone voice was hewn with sadness. "I can't sugar coat it. Bells, this is serious. You can't continue starving yourself—you need help."

She shoved out of his hold, standing up so fast the room spun. The reality of that sentence sent her into a blind rage.

"You don't need to tell me I'm fucked up, Jacob. I'm well aware of that fact."

"Listen, I didn't say you were fucked up. You're a victim!Bella, honey... you're traumatized." Jake retorted. His hand outstretched, reaching for her.

"I'm coming to terms with that now." She replied flatly.

Bella knew she was struggling, but she had already made a lot of progress. It took a lot of courage for her to admit to herself that she was broken and needed help, let alone confide in someone else. That took guts. With the help of Jake, Charlie, and professional support, Bella could eventually heal and find peace.

She anticipated her journey was filled with obstacles and setbacks, leading to relapses along the way. However, Bella underestimated the depth of her wounds. The lows would come to haunt her, and the highs were fleeting. The important part was that she kept going, slowly but surely. It would be worth it in the end. His deep voice pulled her from her inner monologue.

"I can't promise not to push the issue on eating. If you don't eat—it'll make things so much worse. I don't want to see you hospitalized for it." He shook his head. "People die from starving themselves, Bells."

"That's not gonna happen, Jake."

He had to drive home the point. "Have you thought about it? All the tubes and stuff they'd have to stick into you? Rehab for that is no joke."

Bella swallowed hard. "No, I haven't." Her eyes widened; she hated hospitals.

"I'm sorry." He sighed. Jake wrapped his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I needed to hear it. I know you're only telling me that because you care."

They stood in the kitchen for a few minutes, neither saying a single word. The silence amplified Bella's anxiety.

"How bad is it?" Jake asked. "Have you looked in the mirror?"

"I don't wanna find out. I haven't looked at my naked body in years." Bella uttered.

"Is it because you're afraid of what you'll see?"

"Kind of." She stared down at her feet.

"Tell me what makes it better. What can I do?" Jake responded. His voice was soothing to her.

"I don't know. I've got to do this on my own."

"There's gotta be something I can do to help," he scrubbed one of his hands down his russet colored face. "I hate to see you suffer."

She recalibrated, "maybe if you encourage me? I think that might help. That's already better than nothing."

"I can do that." Jake's voice broke. Bella shifted her head, leaning backward and tilting it up so she could see his face.

"Jacob." She whispered, touching his cheek. "Don't let it get to you."

"I can't help how I feel," he huffed. "They hurt you. Badly."

"It's okay. I'm gonna be okay."

"If I have anything to say about it, you will." He cracked a smile, his taut muscles relaxed. Being upset wouldn't help anyone right now.

"That's the spirit." She mirrored him, a meek smile painting her lips.

"Can we collaborate here? Would you at least eat half of the sandwich?" His long fingers curled around her tiny hand, holding it within his enormous, hot one. "I won't worry as much."

"I'll do my best." She frowned, glaring at the plate with apathy.

"Thank you," he squeezed her hand, "I know this is hard. I'm right here. For anything you need. Always." He released her, and she sat back down at the island.

"I know, Jake."

Bella picked up her sandwich, took another forceful bite from the corner, and chewed it for a long time. Too long. The emulsified remains in her mouth caused her stomach to roll with rampant nausea. Still, she persisted, swallowing with difficulty. Jake faced the hallway, hoping that it would help her feel less judged.

"You're doing good. The peanut butter has protein in it, that will give you energy." Jake added, nodding. "Baby steps, honey."

She took a generous gulp of pop in between tears that escaped the corners of her eyes. They rolled down her pale cheeks. Bella determinedly continued, bite after bite, until half of it was gone.

"D-done." She glowered.

He faced her again and a pang of strong empathy stabbed his heart. Seeing her fight so hard over something that came so easily for him was painful. Jake wished he could trade places with her.

"I'm so sorry, Bella."

"Why?" She scrubbed the evidence of angry tears away with the edge of her flannel sleeve.

"Because you're in pain." He bent over the island, nervously fidgeted, and leaned onto his forearms with all his weight. His dark eyes locked with hers.

"It doesn't matter. I have to get better. I want to get better." She pushed the paper plate away with vigor. "It's why I came back to Washington. I want to be me again."

"You'll get there. Rome wasn't built in a day." A familiar, toothy smile slowly crept onto his face. "You're doing so good. I'm proud of you. That was real progress right there."

"I hope so." She stood and picked the plate up, shoving it into the small trash can beside the island. "Sorry for wasting your peanut butter and jelly."

"You've got to stop apologizing for things you shouldn't say sorry for." Jake crossed his thick arms over his broad chest.

"That's gonna take a long time. Any chance I can have a tour of the rest of your house in the meantime?" Bella smiled. "It'll distract from the nausea."

"You can if that stays," he brushed her cheek with the back of his knuckles, "that's my favorite."

"Jake." The smile turned into a blush, and her eyes glued to her feet once more.

"Alrighty—let's get to it. Uhh... this is the kitchen." He executed a sweeping motion with his hands and bent into a deep bow.

"Yeah, I see that." Bella laughed.

"I thought it wasn't obvious. I don't have a lot of appliances. Just the stove and fridge." He was thoughtful for a moment. "Oh, and the toaster!"

"Wow," she replied sarcastically.

"Moving on..."

Amid the dining room, there was a spacious table standing a few inches above waist height; contrasting ebony wood stain against the bland walls. It was accompanied by several expertly crafted chairs upholstered in a deep green velvet. The walls were lined with a rich mahogany wainscoting. An aged grandfather clock stood in the east corner, its faint ticking was the only sound within the room.

"I made this last summer. I got tired of how empty the room was." He flattened his large hands over the back of one chair.

"You made this?" Bella was dumbfounded. She knew the stools were handmade, but the table and chair set looked like it was bought from a store showroom.

"Yeah, it was a pain to assemble all the pieces. Took me forever."

"I can imagine. These are so beautiful, they look professional. Have you thought about selling them?"

"Nah. It's a hobby, and I'd like to keep it that way. It helps manage my stress."

They found their way into the adjoined living room, which was filled with the soft hum of central air and a faint smell of fresh paint. Bella felt drawn to the plush, stone colored sectional that ran along the length of the room, standing out against the white walls and grey carpet.

It came complete with mounted sixty inch flatscreen, the star attraction. It impressed her. Blinding sunlight streamed through the open twin oriel windows, prisms dancing across the walls. This room felt comforting and inviting, a perfect place to relax and take in the pine trees and rolling mountains outside the house. Bella could picture herself curling up there with a good book.

"I've never seen a TV that big." She admitted.

"I don't use it often. It was on sale two years ago, and Embry talked me into it. The pack comes over to watch sports every other weekend."

"Sounds like you've got your hands full."

"Yeah, it beats being alone." He chuckled.

They concluded the tour of the first floor by briefly acknowledging the bathroom, bare office, and laundry room before heading upstairs. After climbing the staircase, they arrived at Jake's room, the primary and first bedroom on the right-hand side. Despite the pile of clothes on the floor in front of the closet and the messy bed, Bella was surprised at how clean the room was.

The bed was unmade, sheets and blankets twisted haphazardly in the center. His California king-size mattress took up most of the room. Swathes of pale light were cast from the tall bay window on the north most side. It was almost as big as the room itself. Bella's eyes were drawn to the walls, which were covered in vivid posters and pictures, all of them depicting various bands and athletes.

The only piece of furniture in the room was a bookshelf with assorted decorative knickknacks. She perused the shelves, stopping to look at the two picture frames that were eye level. She grasped one and fondly observed a photo of Billy, Rebecca, Rachel, and Jake. Everyone was smiling. It was relatively recent, judging by Jake's monstrous size and Billy's greying hair.

"That was a good day." He said softly over her shoulder. "My sisters behaved for once."

"When was it?" Bella set the picture back onto the shelf.

"This past Christmas." Jake faced the opposite direction. "Bec' came home for the first time in six years."

"Did it snow a lot?"

"Only the usual amount." He turned and grinned. "I love winter here."

"I don't. Don't even talk about it." She playfully punched his shoulder.

"Hey hey—you brought it up!" Jake barked a laugh, returning a light shove to her shoulder.

"So what if I did?"

"I guess I'll let it slide."

Bella walked toward the newly remodeled full bathroom, which still smelled of tile grout. The most distinctive features were the jacuzzi tub and the shower, which came equipped with a stone bench.

"Did you do all this work yourself?" She leaned against the wall beside the glass door to the shower, admiring the beautiful mid-size tiling. Each one reflected a variation of black marble.

"Yeah, I had some help from Paul and Sam. Embry and Quil don't know their elbow from a hammer."

"And you let them work on cars?"

"Let them? Embry knows almost as much as I do about cars. Quil isn't as devoted, his heart's in the right place. He mainly does all the oil changes and light tech work. My guess is they're not big fans of home improvement."

"Hmm. I woulda never guessed you were either if it weren't for the woodworking everywhere."

"What can I say? I like using my hands." That sentence made her heart involuntarily skip a beat.

"R-right." She shoved her hands into her jean pockets, trying to ignore it.

"So that pretty much concludes the tour. There is one other bedroom, but it's empty for now. I still have carpet to replace there and the office, along with trim in here. Then hardwood floors in the kitchen and patching in here."

"You've got your work cut out for you," Bella admitted. "Doesn't it overwhelm you?"

"Nah. I've had nothing else in my life besides work and the pack. It gave me something to focus on."

"I'm surprised you didn't find someone." Bella smiled wistfully. "I was sure you'd moved on by now."

"I tried for a short while. Went out on a couple blind dates the guys set me up with, even hit it off with a waitress I met in town," Jake paused, "but none of them stuck."

Bella frowned, feeling responsible for his unhappiness.

"What happened with them?"

"Eh, either they'd end up ghosting me, or after the third date... they wanted nothing to do with me."

He pressed both of his hands to the doorframe in front of her, leaning on it to gaze deep into her eyes. Her heart thundered wildly inside her ribs the closer he got. Bella tried and failed to keep her eyes on his face; she peered at his bulging bicep muscles. He wasn't even flexing. The angle he was leaning at showcased how lean, yet brawny Jake was.

"Why is t-that?" She stuttered.

"It might have something to do with the fact that I couldn't keep your name outta my mouth."

His breath washed over her flushed face and she shivered. A cursory shock ran up her spine into the base of her skull, leaving her flustered in his wake. She forgot how to breathe in that moment.

"W-what?"

"Even before the imprint, I couldn't get over you. It got so bad that Jared and Paul threatened to put me down."

He inched closer to her face. Their foreheads touched briefly, and Bella happily accepted his warmth. The house was kept cooler to offset his elevated body temperature, causing goosebumps to pepper her fair skin. They cropped up along her arms and torso.

"They wouldn't dare." She whispered, "I'd throw punches if they tried anything."

"Their bark is worse than their bite..." he trailed off, tenderly cupping her face. "You don't know how long I've wanted to kiss you. To hold you. All of it."

"A long while, huh?" A tiny puff of air escaped her parted lips in anticipation.

"Since your senior prom when I saw you in that pretty blue dress and clunky boot." He leaned back, removing his other hand from the trim. Jake coiled his arms around her waist; strong arms squeezing her against his broad chest.

She scrunched her nose in disagreement. "I hated it. The brace made me clumsier than normal. Walking around sucked—don't even get me started on that tight, skimpy ass dress. I was suffocating."

"Well, I thought you looked beautiful. Hell, I always think you look beautiful. Especially right now."

"Ugh, no, I've been crying. I probably look like a drowned rat."

"Actually, Bells, you have this glow about you," he murmured. "It started on the beach after I kissed you."

"Is that so?" Bella's hands instinctively laced into his half up, half down hair, anchoring her to him. He closed his eyes in contentment.

"Yep. I'm tempted to see if it gets any brighter." Jake exhaled slowly, rubbing his thumb along the plane of her cheek. She leaned into his touch, and gifted a kiss to the flat expanse of his palm.

"Care to test that theory?" Bella asked, unabashed.

"I want to, but I also don't wanna rush you." He replied. "Going too fast won't be good for you."

"Who says a kiss is going fast? It's not like we're gonna do anything else," she bit her lower lip, "not now anyway."

"Bella." His voice deepened and his eyes opened, revealing the playful, smoldering gaze he possessed.

"Jake." She mimicked him, and the longer she stared at his plump lips, she felt cheated. All those years of secretly pining for him. Bella wanted nothing more than to taste his fiery kiss; his passion ignited her like a lit match to an open flame.

"You better watch it," he growled softly, inching closer to her.

"And what if I don't listen to your empty threats?" Bella pushed the envelope. "What then?"

"You're walking on thin ice." Jake crooned.

"I've never been good at ice skating," she whispered. She was purposefully trying to goad him. And it worked.