Correspondence
La Push: July
Paul had slept beside me for most of the night, and I had stirred in the early hours at the feel of his heated fingers dancing along my rib cage. I sighed as his fingers grazed the bralette I wore, teasingly stoking longing in me.
"Get some more sleep, Goldilocks. The wolves are going out to play," he cooed, nuzzling at my neck and pecking my cheek.
I mumbled something, still on the cusp of sleep, my head full of fog. The imprint was subdued by having him so close, and I flexed my fingers around a toned bicep, willing him to stay.
He gave a light, throaty laugh and prised my fingers free, soothing me away with more soft kisses.
"Sweet dreams, Goldilocks," he sighed, and then he was gone.
I slept fitfully until the sun rose, and I padded around the kitchen, waiting for Embry to wake up, having returned hours earlier from his shift.
OooO
Correspondence
Isabella Marie Swan and Edward Anthony Masen Cullen
TOGETHER WITH THEIR FAMILIES REQUEST THE HONOUR OF YOUR PRESENCE AT THE CELEBRATION OF THEIR MARRIAGE
SATURDAY, THE THIRTEENTH OF AUGUST. FIVE O'CLOCK IN THE EVENING.
420 Woodcroft Ave., Forks,WA
The arrival of this invitation this morning signified so much. It proved I'd failed in any meek attempt I'd made to stop Bella from getting this far, distracted by the wolves. It proved fate was forever set in motion and I'd been naive to believe otherwise. But most of all it proved that soon all hell would be breaking loose.
I cringed while setting the crisp card on the counter.
Embry read the words over my shoulder, and I could feel the tension radiating from him.
"You don't think..." he began, but stopped.
My mind was quickly following that thread of thought.
"Surely she wouldn't have..." I broke off considering this.
Surely, she wouldn't have sent an invitation to Jacob. Surely, she wouldn't be so callous.
I whimpered, thinking of Jacob sitting at his kitchen table, sliding an identical invitation from a crisp lightly scented envelope.
I turned to look at Embry, my eyes wild with worry.
Paul wasn't due back for another few hours from his patrol, and goodness knows what edge of the La Push border he was currently patrolling.
I tried to keep the nausea from rising at the thought of Jacob reading this invitation knowing how it would trigger his already raw emotions.
The breakfast mixed with tablets churned in my stomach, and I wanted to heave into the sink. My chest had broken out earlier this morning in a rash that was stinging my skin, and I had hidden it from Embry's gaze with a high-necked shirt.
"We have to go to Jacob," I say to my brother, my legs carrying me on an adrenaline that pulsates, numbing the ache that usually follows me in every step.
I moved quicker than I had in weeks, and even Embry looked a little baffled as he followed me. The bread that was slotted in the toaster would burn, and I hadn't had a chance to braid my fading lilac hair from my face. But I moved on, down the porch steps, some how having snatched up a light rain mac in the process.
My feet were pummelling on the ground as I crossed past Embry's car; it would be quicker on the shortcuts through the woods.
"Slow down," a fierce voice cried behind me.
I guess he'd rescued the toast then.
"You are meant to be superhuman!" I challenged back to my brother who kept pace easily with me now.
"Well, superhuman's don't run well on empty stomachs," he retorted.
"Embry, for once in your life, you have to stop thinking about food!" I cried appalled at his terrible prioritising in this situation.
He snorted a huff, taking my arm and willing me to jog quicker.
The path is well-trodden by the wolves, and I am grateful for my brother guiding me through the dense pine trees.
"Paul always thinks about food," he scoffs after a moment.
"Does he?" I question dubiously, faltering mid-step.
"Of course not," he bites back. "He thinks about you a lot, and trust me when I say I don't want to repeat what that looks like," he adds a little sheepishly.
I wiggle my eyebrows teasingly, and he mock-gags in disgust.
I shake the smile from my face and remind myself of the reason we are running through the woods like two crazed people.
"Why would she invite him to her wedding?" Embry asks breaking into my thoughts, seeing me as the only one who could explain or understand Bella's actions.
"Because he was her best friend," I hissed sharply.
Embry only grunted in response.
"It's going to really hurt him, Embry; we can't let him do anything stupid," I worried, gnawing at my lip.
Where the hell was Paul? Or, better yet, where was Sam? He could use his freaky mind control on Jacob to stop him from doing anything crazy.
I allowed my jelly-like legs to carry me faster. Emrby was growing more agitated by the second, his legs carrying him further ahead, so I was being tugged along behind him.
"I should shift Immie; hurry up," he ushered, and I bit back the urge to spit at him, saying that he was lucky I hadn't thrown up or passed out yet and that if he had consumed the amount of prescription medication I had this morning just to make it out of bed, then he'd likely be in a coma.
"I can't go any faster!" I whined instead.
As the admission fell from my lips, he caught my arm, tugging me onto his back. "Please don't lose your shit," he hissed, and suddenly he was leaping forward. I shrieked a shrill, wild cry as we hit the ground and raced forward. I realised I'd pressed my eyes closed in fear and willed myself to open them.
Embry's back was no longer bare; it was covered in fur.
I felt faint at the realisation, that he was carrying me in his wolf form. I dug my fingers deep into his fur, clinging for my life.
The speed he took through the woods was unnaturally fast. It was something I'd never wish to repeat again. The rush made my ears pop and my stomach drop out. My legs quaked in fear as I sat high up the back of the gray wolf.
"I will kill you for this Embry," I gasped as he turned us, and I nearly smacked my head off a nearby tree. "I will kill you, and then Paul will kill you," I warned, and he shuddered.
The sound of the wind dulled, and I reached up to try and adjust the hearing aid on my left, but the movement almost set me off balance, and I clutched firmly back onto Embry yelping.
The trees were beginning to thin out, and I sighed in relief. We were close now.
Embry jerked, dropping me roughly from his back and onto the ground, making me cry in surprise. I flashed him a filthy stare, but he merely jerked his head towards the Black property.
The ground was solid and I brushed the earth from my clothes.
"I know!" I snapped back, but the words were silent; my hearing aids really were playing up.
The forest had protected us from the brewing rain clouds, but they were gathering thick and dark here in the clearing.
A storm was on the horizon. I could smell it in the air.
The vibrant red of the black house stung like a beckon. It spurred Embry on, and the wolf paced ahead.
I faltered, wondering what the hell I was going to say to Jacob. What words could possibly make this situation better? None I knew.
The wind rippled Embry's fur, but he didn't shake from the chill. I pulled the rain mac around me, holding it against my shaking torso as the wind tore at my clothes.
Embry stopped before the porch, remaining in his wolf form, willing me along with his eyes.
I strode through the neatly trimmed grass of the garden and called out for Jacob. My voice was inaudible even to my own ears.
This wasn't a good sign. Even with faulty hearing aids, I should be able to still hear myself speak. I hadn't had an episode of my hearing dropping out like this in a long time.
Paul's words stabbed in my mind as I hammered against the black's front door. Dangerous. Wolves were dangerous. Imprints made them dangerous. Love made them dangerous.
But Jacob wasn't dangerous; he wouldn't willingly hurt me or Embry.
The door opened swiftly, and the rain spat on my forehead. I moved my numb fingers to push it away.
"Good morning," I chimed. Billy looked up at me, mumbling something back to me, and I struggled to read his lips.
He spoke again, and I continued to stare in confusion. No sound was entering my ears. This was definitely bad. Even Billy looked concerned.
"Billy, I can't hear you." I sobbed, panic seeping into my voice.
The man wheeled himself back, allowing me enough room to shuffle into the tight doorway and out of the rain.
Embry remained in the garden, pacing back and forth in his wolf form. Jacob's appearance was a welcome diversion. It pulled me from my spiralling panic. Even in the faint light of the corridor, I could see the vibration that was pulsing from him. He was a wolf about to shift. I had seen it before and felt it before.
"Jacob," I warned, pushing myself into his path.
He looked at me with sharp eyes—eyes I didn't recognise, for life had dimmed in this. He was pushing a path through to the doorway, and I tried to tug at his searing wrist as he barged past me and his father.
"I, Jacob, please... stop; let's talk about this. We want to help," I protested as he pulled back the door, allowing the howling wind to beat down on us once more. The rain was teeming now.
The invite sat uncomfortably in his right hand, and I winced as my eyes drifted across the scroll of text, the ink bleeding in the rain.
"I know you love her, Jacob." I cry.
His head flicked back for a mere moment, his eyes softening.
But too soon they cleared, the pain-etched darkness returning once more. He was sprinting into the eye of the storm. Billy wheeled himself after the body but made no progress. He quickly ground to a halt, and I sucked in a breath through my teeth.
Embry looked between Jacob and me, his fur sodden and his eyes looking like those of a lost child.
Jacob soon became no more than a blip in the treeline, and Billy turned away and moved into the house. He didn't speak to either of us; his own eyes were lost, hurting the child he couldn't help.
I walked slowly to my brother; the feeling of uselessness stung at me.
We couldn't comfort Billy, and we couldn't take Jacob's pain away.
My mind wanted to focus on trying to find Jacob. The anger I felt towards Bella was pulsating through my body. She'd hurt him. She'd hurt a member of the pack, my family.
OooO
I typed fiercely, smacking each word on the laptop's keyboard, still unable to hear the sounds it produced.
Subject: What you've done is this time!
Bella,
As your friend, I would like to take this opportunity to say congratulations. Thank you for the beautiful invitation; of course I will be attending. Sort of the whole reason I came here in the first place. We have a lot we need to talk about. Call me.
But as your friend, I also have to say, What the actual hell?
You don't invite Jacob to your wedding, Bella, for goodness' sake. If you were that adamant that you wanted him there, the least you could have done was broach it in person. I know you haven't intended to hurt him, but he's broken Bell's. You could have given me the heads up; I might have been able to ease him into it a little, but it's all still so raw for him.
Jacob is missing, so I suggest you get down to La Push quickly!
Love Immie.
I closed the laptop lid and shoved it under the sofa. The room was dark, and I could see the stars glittering in the sky. Emily was asleep on the armchair, with Sam towering over her like a knight, solid and un-moving. Her body let out little shakes as she slept, and her hair had fallen across the scarred side of her face.
The room was beautifully quiet; not even Sam grunted at me as I stood and wondered into the kitchen. The wolves had descended shortly after the morning's events.
Jacob was missing.
No one had heard from him, and the wolves said he was too far away for them to even use the telepathy they shared. I shivered at the thought of Jacob out in the wilderness alone.
After Jacob had run away, Billy could hardly speak to us; he was so upset, and I was on the edge of a full nervous breakdown with the combination of Jacob running away and my hearing fading into nothingness.
After losing some of my hearing during a viral infection as a child, I had adapted as best I could, but using the aids was not always comfortable. Nor was it easy growing up as the child who wore aids to school; children didn't like things that were different, and I was different—painfully so in many ways.
My hearing was quite stable; it hadn't deteriorated, although it would never fully return to the capacity of a normal person. However, during the height of my illness, when the autoimmune disease had taken a stronghold on my body, my hearing had dipped out for a few days. It had been terrifying. My nightmares coming to life. Of course, it returned—an infection the doctor had cited—that a course of antibiotics could help treating. But to have the world fully silent, to be tuned out of it like that, was alienating.
This, of course, happened today. Again.
I had managed to convince Embry to drive me to the hospital after we had trudged ankle-deep through the boggy mud of the forest, the rain like a torrent. I was crying for Jacob's pain.
Paul had been sent after Jacob, along with Sam and Jared. They were worried he would do something stupid, Embry had told me. He had made his words slow and over-pronounced so I could read his lips. They all had. All of them horrified by what was happening to me.
The accident and emergency department had seen me quickly and diagnosed a severe ear infection, which the painkillers I'd been taking had clearly masked. They suggested it should clear up with the antibiotics and I should be back to 'normal' within a few days.
By the time we'd arrived back, they'd been waiting for us. I'd leapt from the car, hoping for an update. But here they were fussing over me, like I was what mattered here. I'd dismissed their petting, asking about Jacob, but no one had any news.
Embry had managed to get some takeout pizzas from the diner, and as we'd crowed into the glass room, someone had fumbled with the record player. The music filled the room, and they'd smiled and cooed to each other in delight, but the silence embraced me.
I finally allowed their concern to comfort and soothe me. I'd lulled on the sofa, cuddling with Paul, who was tenser than usual, his expression a gloomy mask.
I pull out a tub of ice cream from the freezer in the kitchen and arm myself with a dessert spoon. As I turn to pad back to the glass room, I meet Paul's sceptical eyes. My heart thumps in surprise at his presence in the room. I ofcourse hadn't heard his approach.
In challenge, I pop the lid and shove a thick spoonful into my mouth, widening my eyes and giving a sarcastic sneer. It's funny how much I exaggerated my expressions when I couldn't hear my surroundings.
"What?" he challenged, stepping closer. "You're just going to eat yourself into a coma?" he asked, ensuring he over-pronounced each syllable for me. Paul's mouth was so familiar and so easy to read that he needn't have bothered.
"Problem," I challenge, curtly shovelling another mouthful in.
Paul sighs, palming his face, and he looks emotionally drained. I think back to the others, lounging, waiting desperately for some news that Jacob is okay. I hadn't realised Paul cared so much.
"Talk to me, Paul," I say softly, setting the ice-cream down and stepping close. "Please," I husk.
"What? Like you talk to me," he spits, giving a bitter laugh I can't hear.
"What do you mean by that?" I demand, crossing my arms over my shirt. I struggle to keep my voice low, not wanting to give Sam or Embry any motivation to come and eavesdrop in more detail.
"For fucksake Imogen" Paul seethes spitting his words, which I know must be raising in volume from the way his lips rush them out, losing patience. "You can't hear; you've gone completely deaf in the space of a few hours, and you're acting like it's nothing. You are so wrapped up in everyone else's life. Your illness is so apparent to us all, the pain your in. But you won't talk about it. You never talk about it.
Not to me, not to anyone.
I feel it sometimes. Down the connection. The pain..." He breaks off, and I realise I have backed myself further up in the small kitchen.
Paul's words cannon into me, taking the breath from my lungs.
"It's private," I whisper.
"Private," he sneers, pacing now. Wildly back and forth, hands clenched.
"Private? I can't see you like this, Imogen. I can't watch your body destroy itself. You're my imprint; do you not understand what this is doing to me? You need to explain," he commands, stopping to stare right into my sole.
The imprint lurches away, willing me to shut down and put a stop to any talk of this.
So, it has finally come up. My health.
This was sure to be a disastrous series of events.
I needed to make him stop, to silence him.
The only way I could do that was to hurt him.
To stop him.
Paul had seen too much now. He'd seen the painkillers, the nausea, the aches, the rashes, the vomiting, and the ignored doctor's letters requesting appointments. We hadn't touched on the subject. He hadn't dared bring it up, and I had too much self-loafing to address it. For a moment, I'd convinced myself I could be a normal young woman with Paul.
I deluded myself that this condition would go away. We could pretend I wasn't ill.
With Paul, none of it seemed as important as it once had. The maximum dosage of painkillers, the physiotherapy, and the possibility of my organs failing as I got older. None of that was my focus.
"You're just a summer crush, it was nothing you need to know about" I lie, the imprint making me want to physically retch as the words leave my mouth, a sucker punch to the gut, and I hold the counter to keep myself upright.
"You're a liar, Imogen. Just like you've lied to me, you tried to keep this from me all this time," he accuses. "I wanted to protect you, to let me tell you when you were ready. You never were going to tell me were you," he added, his realisation splitting across his twisted features.
"You have no idea what I wanted to do, Paul," I cried back, losing the composure I'd been clinging to.
I know they must hear us now from the glass room. I wonder if one of them will try to intervene.
"You might have an inkling of what my body is going through, but you can never understand." I whimper, curling in on myself and dipping my head low.
Paul is suddenly before me, grabbing my chin so I can meet his eyes and hear the words he is wanting me to read from his lips.
"But they can make you better; you just need to see a different specialist. They will fix you; I'll make them take the pain away, Imogen," Paul assures.
"That won't happen, Paul," I dismiss hotly. As if it could really be that simple. But he doesn't get it, does he? He will never get it.
"I will fix you, Imogen," Paul snarls.
"I can't be fixed, Paul. People like me aren't made to be loved," I countered, tears stinging hotly behind my eyes.
"You don't mean that." Paul says palming the dampness from my face before I'd even realised it; I was crying silent tears. "You need to accept who you are, Imogen; accept what it's made you. I don't love you any less because you're in pain, Imogen."
"I am disgusting, Paul. What my body has done this to itself. It is destroying me from the inside out." I sob. "There is nothing in me worth loving," I shriek, my voice shrill.
"I need to get some air," Paul sighs, defeated and palming his face.
"Breathe. There's plenty of air!" I snarl the words, ripping them free, and I want to shake him.
Paul leans forward and plants the most tender of kisses on my forehead.
"Come find me when you're ready to let me love you, Imogen," he nods, stepping back again, retreating further and further until he's left the kitchen.
Until the ice cream has left a wet puddle of condensation on the worktop.
Until Sam is the one catching my arms to stop me from crumbling to the floor of the kitchen. I am engulfed by the scent of the wolf. The smell is so foreign yet strangely similar, almost like Embry.
Being in pain doesn't get easier. You can tolerate more and live with more; that's how you manage to cope. Slowly.
You must grieve the life you thought you were destined to live. At first, you have hope to hold onto—hope that you will beat the statistics or that you will in fact respond well to the treatments offered. However, you realise you aren't going to break the curve; you too are sealed to a life of pain.
I spend every day of my life in pain.
Sometimes it is unbearable; it was for a long time. But more so, now it's tolerable. A cloud that lingers over me, a constant reminder that I will never be quite normal. I will never fully return to my old body. I will never forgive myself for the torment my body has caused. For the life it has robbed me of
I am for the first time glad I cannot hear, for the animalistic screams as I cry for Paul, for my mate, and for my imprint as Sam holds my body, shaking with pain, would make my own ears bleed.
Authors Note: Hello readers, I hope you have enjoyed the update. Things have really come to blows between Imogen and Paul - I would love to hear your feedback so please leave a review!
Thank you for the follows and favourites on the story they are much appreciated!
Lauren Elsie10 - Thank you for another review - I totally agree! Yes Jennifer is very much in the dark on things currently but I am looking forward to drawing her more into the story as it progresses. I had been waiting to build up to the discussion about the illness, there were some very big feelings going on in this chapter. Thank you for the heads up over the rating.