Hello, everyone! I was taken aback by all the love the prologue got. I am incredibly grateful for all the reviews, follows, and hearts, so THANK YOU! Your interest in this story and your feedback make the journey all the more exciting!

Huge thanks to my dear CoppertopJ's amazing beta skills as well, she is simply extraordinary.

Now, back to where we left off last week!

Throughout the years, I witnessed the world changing in many ways. I had seen it all, good and bad, and nothing fazed me much these days—no new, revolutionary technology, no innovative creations. It all felt so predictable in a way; maybe not for the average human, but for someone who could not help but hear every single thought, surprises were definitely off the table.

Forks, on the other hand, was sort of a time capsule. The town resisted radical change with all it had. Its residents seemed to be content living as they were, no artifice needed. It was almost daunting to realize that underneath the fragile mist of the rain, everything was the same as the day I left. Paradoxically, the lack of fluctuations was the only thing capable of perturbing me.

Nature itself was the only proof that time had passed; since June was slowly coming to an end, everything was greener than usual, and a layer of humid warmth lingered in the air. I breathed it all in—the heat, the greenery, the rain—secretly hoping for a carnal mix of lavender and spun sugar to make its way to me. Still, nothing was there. Just the familiar scent of my one true home.

Alice had warned me against coming here. She and Rose got into a huge fight soon after the secret had been spilled. She saw it coming when she was mid-hunt—so too late. By the time she returned home, Rosalie was already waiting for her, with a pleased grin on her face. What Rose had not taken into consideration was the fact that, instead of returning to my family, and admitting defeat after hearing the news, I would choose to creep my way back to Forks, to torture myself further. Naturally, she chose to send a string of insulting texts my way, most of them revolving around the idea of me being a 'pathetic stalker'.

I didn't make an effort to contradict her. She was not entirely wrong.

And even if I didn't need anyone's approval, my parents and siblings still went out of their way to have a family meeting over the phone. Esme supported my choice, and so did Carlisle. Emmett chose to be neutral out of courtesy to his wife. Meanwhile, Alice and Jasper were both on the fence. My decision seemed to have caused a chasm in my psychic sister's visions; my future was suddenly so undefined, so muddy, she could not get a grasp of what was going to happen next, no matter how hard she tried to focus. She saw small fragments, but none of them were clear enough for her liking. Naturally, she told me to keep away, until things settled down. Jasper shared her view, worried that my mental state was not nearly stable enough to withstand something as monumental as seeing Bella again, even from afar.

And Jasper was right. I was anything but stable. My father was too gentle to tell me that I belonged in a psychiatric ward—maybe because he knew, just like me, that there was no real cure to the pain of losing your mate. But in between wasting away in strangers' attics and returning to Forks, just to check on Bella one last time, he knew what option was better for me. So instead of trying to get me to change my mind, he only made me promise that I would get a proper dose of blood in my system before leaving Guadalajara behind.

Five ocelots in a row proved to be more than enough, by both his standards and mine. I left at night, using my only car. It was one of the rare occasions when I didn't want to run, nor to get on a plane, because a part of me craved to have more time—enough to ruminate about how things were going to go once I would see her again. Still, the additional two days spent on my own didn't make me any less anxious. And much to Alice's dismay, they didn't change my mind either. If anything, they made the roots of my decision settle deeper inside me, taking a somewhat permanent residence in a land of nothingness.

I wasn't particularly sure where I was heading as I drove around in my black Corolla, I was simply trying to get a hold of someone's thoughts, in hopes that Bella would be somewhere nearby. I recognized some mental voices—classmates from what now felt like a lifetime ago—while others were completely new. Most people seemed to be preoccupied with plans about going away for the weekend, since it was Friday and this town didn't contain enough distractions.

"I might still get a lift to Port Angeles if I apologize to him, although…"

"If only Hollie could babysit tonight…"

"Maybe if I finish the homework tonight, I get to have the entire weekend free, so that I can…"

I pushed the thoughts away, uninterested in what they were offering. I passed by several houses, but I didn't dare to wander towards the one that mattered the most. It was obvious that I was only postponing the inevitable, but I could not face the full blow of reality just yet. Besides, what were the chances of her being home right now? From what I had gathered from Alice, she was still working at the local library—her job for the past year or so.

Maybe going to the library was a safer bet. Because if she was there, then it meant that she was alone, no sign of her fiancé. Even if she was alone, I wasn't going to get too close—I still had some semblance of reason left, enough to make me understand the importance of keeping my distance, so that she would not even know I was ever here. There was no use in revealing myself to her, now that her life had progressed beyond the unhappiness I had caused her.

The mantle of rain was thin, but I could perfectly imagine how she was mentally cursing the humidity. The thought sent a dagger through my heart, as I realized that I wished I could hear her complain again.

Minutes later, I parked the car on the other side of the street where Gossamer Grove, the only library in town, was located, finding a spot between two large SUVs. I noticed the 'Be Right Back' sign on the door, and a young girl, who couldn't have been much older than fifteen, waiting outside, under a large umbrella. I listened intently, but the girl was mostly worrying about the humidity affecting her freshly straightened hair.

I searched further, seeking new thoughts. I heard a barista checking the time as she prepared a new order, a couple of friends wondering about some upcoming sleepover, and a man worrying about his sick dog. No trace of what I actually wanted.

Sinking into my seat, I looked in my rearview mirror. I stared at it for the longest time, as if it could somehow grant me my deepest wish. More time passed—slowly, painfully. The girl was still waiting at the entrance, getting antsier as she studied the way her curls returned with a vengeance. She tried, in vain, to straighten her locks back with her free hand, only to realize her attempts were only making things worse.

I was still watching this absurd spectacle when I heard the splash of new footsteps in the rain. No thoughts, just several under-the-breath harmless profanities, let out by the softest voice in the world. "Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it!"

If my heart could still beat, it would have stopped altogether at this very moment. Because in the rearview mirror, through the hazy rain, I saw her.

Bella was running, but the wet ground seemed to make her mission a tad harder. She was holding a large cup of something steamy in her hand, but no umbrella to protect her from the rain. Her hair was soaked, and so was her shirt, and this simple image lit up several desires in me at once. Such as to get out and help her with whatever liquid danger she was holding. Then to wrap her in my jacket, away from the drizzle. Then to get her someplace warm and dry, so that she wouldn't catch a cold.

All of my willpower went into staying put in my car, where I belonged. With my hands tightened into fists, I ordered myself to remain still, fighting the urge to intervene with all I had.

But then, in her rush, Bella dropped half of whatever it was in her cup on herself, making my mission that much more difficult. She squealed when the hot liquid came in contact with her skin, and the shock got her to drop the cup on the ground. The resulting steam rose up in the air, traveling in transparent waves everywhere. I braced myself for it, but it was already too late. When it hit, my lucidity collapsed.

I barely got to recognize the scent of the liquid she had spilled. All I could smell was her. Thick and sweet and illicit, like a drug concocted at the border separating Heaven from Hell, her fragrance made me forget place and time. Even separated from the outside world by the car, I could still taste it on the tip of my tongue—its notes so different, so easy to distinguish, even in the pool of fresh venom in my mouth.

Truly, nothing could have prepared me for the feeling of inhaling this scent again. It made me hungry in a way I forgot was even possible. I didn't want to think about the last time I felt it—how it was a harbinger of the worst rift, how the autumn air made it stick to my clothes, even when I was hundreds of miles away. I could only focus on what it meant now. For the first time in what felt like a few eternities combined, I could finally see—and crave, and need—Bella again. Flesh and bones, not a figment of my hopeless daydreams.

My reason only started to return when I saw the girl with the curls rushing to help her.

"Are you all right?"

"Oh, absolutely, it was only tea." Bella was downplaying her troubles, as always. No change there, I noticed with bittersweet fondness. But even from afar, I could see that her wrist was glowing red from the burn. But then she turned her wrist, and I saw it. Made out of silver, with an ostentatious square ruby stone adorning the band, her engagement ring. Fuck. "I'm so sorry for making you wait here. I was getting ready to close. Have you been waiting long?"

"Not awfully long. Why don't you have an umbrella?"

"I forgot it at home this morning."

"Who forgets their umbrella when it's been raining for three days straight?" The question remained unasked, the girl choosing to keep it to herself, but it was extremely valid.

I watched as they entered the library, and thanked whoever decided that the little building was better off with half of its walls made out of glass. The new layer of physical separation helped because it kept her scent enclosed, far enough away from my overwhelmed lungs. I inhaled deeply, through gritted teeth, deciding to prove to myself that I was more than my basic instincts.

My vision was partially obscured by the stacks of books adorning the front window, but I could still see Bella half trying to dry herself up with some paper towels—a thankless task, really—and half trying to help the girl find a copy of Cloud Atlas in the database on her work computer. I could see that Bella was patient, despite the machine taking its time. Maybe it was just some remnant of her being used to the ungodly slowness of her personal computer… well, unless she had already changed it, of course. The thought made me panic for a second, making me wonder what else had changed during my absence, apart from what I already knew from Alice.

How much of the old Bella was still there?

"If you can't find it, that's fine, I can look for it myself."

"It's got to be here, but this database has been having quite a few errors lately. Technology has its perils, I guess."

Bella chuckled to herself, and the sound was pure ecstasy to my ears. My fists clenched tighter, ignoring the powerful wish to get out and enter the library. Wishing for such things was gratuitous torture for my already broken spirit, but there was no helping it. Not when my love, my mate, was here. I only needed a minute to get a proper dose of her presence, not more. I could hold on to those sixty seconds, as long as I spent them face to face with her, not lurking from my car.

Alas, a minute was not nearly enough, not when I had to isolate myself. Besides, the last thing she needed was for me to break my promise to her. Hadn't I told her that her life would go on as if I had never existed? She deserved that much.

In the end, Bella gave up the search and asked the girl to follow her. They disappeared behind a bookshelf and only emerged five minutes later—successfully, with a copy of Cloud Atlas held carefully in Bella's hands. Not long after, the girl left, and all of a sudden I felt as if I was floating on thin air. The idea of at least going outside, and moving on the other side of the road, closer to the window, was so irresistible, it made my head spin.

I was calculating which spot would be completely outside of Bella's field of vision when my phone grumbled in my pocket. Taking it out, one single text from Alice waited for me.

'Seriously, think things through TEN times before you do them, if you must. I love you both, but it would mess her up to see you now.'

It was the call to sanity I needed. I could not do this. Not now, nor ever. I was only here to see her happy and fulfilled. Meddling was not a part of that.

With renewed strength, I switched my phone to silent and kept watching, finding myself staring at that ring on Bella's finger way too often for my liking. She was alone at the main desk now, and she was typing something on her phone, looking rather annoyed. Then she glanced upwards, to what I assumed was a clock I could not see, and raised in an instant. For the next quarter of an hour, she kept herself busy arranging and rearranging books on their shelves.

I almost had a panic attack when she balanced herself on an unstable chair, so that she could reach the higher shelves. Could she not feel it wobbling under her feet? Could she not hear it creaking ominously, just waiting for her to move to the left, so that it could slip and fall, bringing her down, where her frangible skeleton would surely suffer from a fracture?

Somehow, she got down unscathed, and I feared that her little balancing act was a rare occurrence for her. Not long after, she turned off her computer, tidied up her desk, turned off the dim lights of the library, and got outside at long last. Her scent had not reached me—not yet, thank the deities above for the wind—but I was distracted nonetheless.

As she was searching for something in her bag, I could see that her clothes were still damp, clinging to her form as if they were a second skin. I tried not to stare, but it was impossible to remain immune to what stood in front of me. Her skin was an alabaster paradise, her collarbones ever so delicate, while her waist looked as frail as I remembered. But other things had certainly changed.

Her hair was a little longer now, perhaps even darker, after being deprived of the sun rays she loved so much in Arizona for years. And it was almost imperceptible, but after holding on to the image I had of her in my head for so long, I could easily tell that there was a new roundness to her, that wasn't there before. The swell of her breasts was more arresting, the curve of her hips even plumper than in my memories.

All of it led me to a shattering conclusion. Even if it weren't for Bella's kindness—or her wit, or her sarcasm, or her calmness—one thing was for certain: her fiancé was the luckiest man on Earth, whether he knew it or not.

Before I knew it, the sight of her made my body react in ways I had all but forgotten. Distressfully, my jeans suddenly felt too tight for comfort. The sensation seemed almost new, as it rippled through my body and concentrated in one single spot, below the belt. I had lost track of what my body was capable of, after almost two years of solitude, during which arousal—in whichever way, shape, or form—had never been on my list of priorities. Hell, the last time my own body begged for release was when Bella and I were still together, when I didn't even deserve to feel that kind of liberation. That last night of holding her as she slept, right after the worst birthday party in history—when she unknowingly wrapped one perfect leg around me—made my cock harder than a rock.

Lost in dreams, Bella stroked me with her soft inner thigh, making my mind run wild with desperate need. I despised the way my body reacted then, and the way I had no control over it, as if the very presence of my beloved was enough to turn the cold granite of my body into warm flesh and brittle bones. It made me aware that I was in no way ready to leave, but also that I had no choice. In the end, I had to get out of the bed, afraid that Bella's movements would bring me to a devastating—and awfully undeserved—completion.

I never told her about it—because soon after, I terminated all contact with her. On one hand, it felt somewhat reassuring to know that I still functioned properly on that front—although the odd comfort was probably just a random shred of male pride, a relic from my human days. On the other hand, however, it was infuriating. Because having these thoughts about a woman who was clearly taken was not only wrong, but terribly useless as well. I wasn't going to act on them. Not privately, and especially not with her. Forgetting about them altogether was the best option, but… I wasn't sure how to go about it.

My insignificant problems got muted at once when I saw Bella slipping on the pavement. There were no particular irregularities on the ground, and yet one second later, gravity won and she fell, knees first, cursing out loud right when she landed with a painful thud.

Once again, I entered a battle with myself to not get out and cause additional trouble. No matter how much I wanted to help her get up, to assess how badly she was hurt, something else was more important: her emotional sanity. I managed to push back the idea before Alice got to send me yet another text.

Helplessly, I observed the way she got up. She didn't seem overly concerned about how serious her fall had been. If I had to guess, she looked pissed off. To the extreme. She walked forward, her knees shaking just a little, until she reached—oh, for the love of all that's holy!—a Harley motorcycle. The paint was scratched in various places, and I felt a deep sense of anxiety just imagining how it got scratched in the first place. Growing scared, but unable to do anything, I noticed her taking out a helmet from the black pannier attached to the bike. She put it on quickly, clearly having done this countless times before, and right before my eyes, she took off.

I pondered for a while if following her right away was a good idea or not, but I didn't want to risk the possibility of her becoming suspicious. The windows of my car were dark enough to hide me from untrained, weak eyes, but they weren't nearly dark enough to soothe my blooming paranoia.

So I started the engine and drove in the opposite direction, trying my best to get the swarm of scenarios of Bella getting into an accident out of my head. I told myself she had done this before. She was no longer a novice. Yet my worries were getting the better of me, each scenario getting more absurd, more agony-inducing, as I pictured her falling, crashing into trees, and getting thrown off the bike mid-ride.

Half an hour of this torture later, I finally dared to venture outside of my looping trajectory. It was past eight p.m. at this point, and the green curtain of rain was getting darker by the minute. There was precisely one place where I wanted to be right now, but my car was getting in the way. I could not possibly park it in front of Bella's house, for obvious reasons. There had to be a more subtle way to finish what I started.

And once I would see her with him, I would be able to return to what I knew: complete darkness.

With that in mind, I drove around, a reasonable plan forming in my mind, until I found what I wanted. The grocery store that was closest to Bella's house was past its peak hour, which meant that there were plenty of empty parking spots available. Once my car was parked and the light outside was completely gone, I got out, pulling the hoodie of my jacket over my head—not to avoid the ongoing summer shower, but to hide from any inquisitive looks, if necessary.

Thankfully, most people were indoors, where the everlasting moisture could not reach. The downpour was anything but annoying to my senses. It felt almost reassuring to feel my clothes getting soaked as I walked, reminders of a past life coming back to me gradually. The summer before I left, I used to walk down these roads with Bella's hand in mine on an almost daily basis. Each foot of concrete had its own story engraved within its solid depths.

Here was where she dropped her cookie dough ice cream on the ground, caught up in a laughing fit over an innocuous joke I'd told her.

There was where I convinced her to let me take her to a proper dinner in Seattle. As I moved my lips on her neck, she gasped the softest, sweetest yes.

Every single memory burned in a different way; some good, some bad. But behind each light-hearted echo of the past, lay a hundred little horrors. Because each time Bella laughed at my jokes or smiled over a thought that only she knew, or purred with delight under my loving ministrations, I knew. I knew it was all temporary. Fleeting, non-permanent, destined to end. I could not find it in me to share the most tragic truth of all with her. Not when she was living the best summer of her life. Her words, not mine.

My feet dragged me forward, mile after mile, causing me to step all over my remembrances until a strange familiarity made its way into my bones. I felt a knot in my chest as I stepped forward, recognizing the pattern of houses and streets. I breathed in their essence—wood and blood and food—preparing myself for what came next.

I noticed Bella's old red truck first. Cumbersome as ever, yet probably still functional. Right by its side, two almost identical motorcycles. I recognized Bella's easily, thanks to the scratched paint on the surface. And behind these vehicles, something much, much more important.

The Swan house looked the same as it always had. Simple and quiet, almost blending in with the lush greenery surrounding it. The lawn was mowed and the front door seemed to have a new coat of paint on it, just a shade lighter than the previous paint job. And even though there were barely any changes, the house felt so alien, so strange, almost as if it didn't even belong in this town, in this state, in this country, on this planet. The knowledge that I could never set foot inside weighed heavy on my shoulders.

The feeling was crushing, but it got lost in the background when my other senses started to demand my full attention. Bella's scent was merely a phantom, but still more powerful than anything else around me. It was kept safe, enclosed in the house, just potent enough to tease the embers in my chest without starting a fire. But there was a new scent too; a bizarre amber, that managed to smell both sweet and salty at the same time.

Troubled by it, I moved my attention to the sound of the running water and bubbling foam. Before I could understand what it meant, an inner voice I had heard before made its way to me, imposing in the sea of thoughts surrounding me.

"I'll have to miss the game tonight. Maybe if we watch a movie, she'll reconsider. Might take her mind off of things, at least. Hm, her ass looks good in those jeans."

Against my will, my body stiffened. Jacob Black's thoughts were not exactly new territory for me. I did hear them before, when they barely even mattered. But hearing them now, coming from inside the Swan residence, as he perused Bella's body while she washed the dishes, was something else. Yes, I knew she was his fiancée. Yes, I knew it was not my business to analyze this. And yes, I also knew I had no right to even witness it. However… there was no helping the possessive surge of electricity that started humming in my veins, bringing them to life.

I hated it, hated it, hated it. All the new electricity did was reinforce the specific kind of monster that I was. What gave me the right to even feel jealousy?

Not even a full minute had passed since I stopped walking. Willing myself to move, I picked the only place that would keep me hidden for long enough: the tree facing Bella's window. In the shadows, where I belonged. I climbed up quickly, balancing myself on the thickest branch, careful not to sit on a weak spot. I buried myself between the branches—enough to remain hidden, but also enough to give me a decent view. The curtains to the bedroom were closed, but it didn't matter. My mind was too preoccupied with the dialogue taking place in the kitchen.

"I was thinking of watching Click again tonight. What do you say?"

"Well, go ahead."

"What I meant is… do you want to watch it with me?"

"Jake, I don't know… I'm tired, to be honest. I was hoping to take a shower and head straight to bed."

"Oh, come on, honey. I know you love it when you fall asleep on the couch."

"I do, but I'm not really in the mood, you know?"

As they talked, his mind was not so much preoccupied with the movie itself, but with the idea of getting to be intimate with Bella. The images in his head were too much, and it cut me like a knife to see them. I tried to think of something else. The dishwashing sounds. The pitter-patter of the rain against the windows. The far-away thunder. Anything but his hands touching, his mouth kissing and his body possessing what once belonged to me.

"Maybe tomorrow," she offered, and I could hear his decision to get up from the chair before he did it. I couldn't see, not directly, but his thoughts were loud enough to make me understand. He was behind her now, not shaming away from showing her the effect her body had on him.

I wanted to die when I heard her groan.

"Let me finish," she said, and I could not tell if she meant it or not.

"I could help you finish, Bells."

"Um… Jake…"

The water stopped running. I had no idea if it was her or him that stopped it. I was petrified, a prisoner of my senses, unable to move, while Jacob's thoughts unfolded the most sinister spectacle. He turned her around, kissing her with a vehemence I understood and despised at the same time. He—and sadly, I—were very much aware of how his erection pressed against her abdomen now, how her hands pushed down on his shoulders, in what was obvious desire for him.

"That's what I'm talkin' about, baby…" His words ended in a moan and he went in for the kill without warning, pressing his palm right between her legs.

"Jacob, wait! Please!"

The urgency in her tone alerted me above all else—above the sudden revulsion in the pit of my stomach and above the sudden need to uproot the very tree that covered me. She sounded wary, and somewhat… worn out. Even now, as she was being actively caressed by her one true lover—the most telling sign that she could not possibly think about me anymore—I wanted to barge in and beg for her to let me embrace her once. Thankfully, I still had enough reason to know not to act on my desire.

Jacob didn't really stop. He was enthralled by her earlobes when he whispered his next words. "What? Not tonight either?"

"I'm sorry," was all she said.

"You're always sorry." Silence. There was still arousal clouding his judgement, but something else was there too. Frustration poured out of his synapses in thick waves. "It's just sex, not a big deal."

"I know, I know, it's just that… not tonight."

More silence. Just her breathing, his heaving, and a world of irritation taking over him. I would have given everything to hear what she was thinking now.

"Fine," he hissed. "But… this can't keep happening when we're married. You do realize this, don't you?"

"Yes, yes, I do. And it won't. I just need to… get out of my head, I guess. And I will, I promise. I'm getting there, only… a bit slower than you."

"Sure, sure… I can't believe I've got to jerk off again. Even a handjob would do at this point. Fucking hell…"

Still processing what I was witnessing in real time, I was somewhat aware that I could not stay here much longer. It was getting too much for my battered senses, and I didn't know what to make of it. Was Bella's rejection based on tiredness alone? How many times had she done this before? Did they ever…? I tried—without much success—to convince myself that the answers to these questions did not matter one bit and that I was in no position to know them anyway. But I could not shake off the feeling that I was missing something.

This was a facet of their relationship I was not supposed to see and it was my fault for peeking into their intimacy. The hollow feeling in my chest was proof that I had been right all along about not prodding Alice for further details, whenever she offered me an update. The details were supposed to be secret, and in just a few minutes, I had thrown this sacred notion out the window, only to satisfy my perverse curiosities.

In the wake of my intrusion, I found myself itching to get down and run away as fast as possible, as far as possible. One more minute and I go, I told myself. I was staring at Bella's window, not seeing anything past the curtains, feeling as if the doorway to my only sanctuary had been closed shut, with no key to open it. The craving to take another peek resurfaced, despite my best intentions, getting my muscles to tense up in anticipation.

Moments later, the sound of footsteps climbing on creaky stairs got my attention. I recognized their particular cadence: half soft, half harsh, completely whimsical. I held my breath like a coward when I heard the door to the bedroom opening. Attempting to understand what Bella was going to do next. Going by her erratic back-and-forth pacing, I was taken aback when the curtains were peeled away and the sash of the window pulled upwards, allowing the humidity and the night air in.

And there she was.

With her hair falling in unctuous waves and her skin an ode to the purest porcelain, she looked like a chimera. Beautiful, but so very dangerous too, for her charm was the one thing that could bring me to my knees. Her neck was well-hidden, but the song of her pulse was clear in my ears, a symphony that not even Chopin himself could have brought to life. Against my better judgement, I breathed in deeply, daring to throw all of my senses into the rapturous song I was hearing.

The embers turned to rabid flames in less than a millisecond. Venom flooded my mouth all at once, preparing my taste buds for a meal that would never come to fruition. I swallowed immediately, fighting the animalistic urge with fake indifference, focusing instead on Bella's face, the only element that could really keep me grounded.

She didn't do anything. She just stared aimlessly. She inhaled. Exhaled. Unaware of the monster staring at her with awe and hunger.

And simple as that, my one more minute turned into five more minutes. And when she closed the window and started humming a song, as she was picking a towel to take to the bathroom, the five more minutes turned into ten more. And when she returned from the bathroom, wearing old sweatpants I remembered and a camisole I had never seen before, twenty more. And when she fell asleep, forgetting to pull back the curtain, while her fiancé was still downstairs, in front of the TV, thirty more.

Before I knew it, I made a pact with myself to last through the entire night.

Well, Edward is in deep, that's for sure!

Do you think his snooping will bring anything good? And do you believe he'll be able to keep his distance, as he intends to?

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Until next Sunday, stay safe and happy!