Hello, my dear readers!
First of all, I would like to make it clear that my native language is Portuguese, and my English is poor. However, we have the help of ChatGPT to try to reach other audiences. I apologize if it's terrible, but this is just a test. If you could give feedback on the story and let me know if I can continue posting, I would be immensely grateful! Comments and constructive suggestions are welcome; haters are not.
I hope you enjoy the reading! Kisses!

CAPITULO 1

Bella

"You're not good enough for me, Bella."
That sentence echoed in my mind over and over again. All week. All day. Every second.

The icy, crushing pain pierced my chest, spreading through my body like slow poison, leaving exhaustion in its wake. The sense of loneliness and abandonment was so overwhelming it felt as if it had merged with my blood, freezing the tips of my fingers until they were cold and pale, like marble. The numbness crawled down to my legs, draining any desire to stand or move. Eventually, it returned to its point of origin—what I had started calling the "hollow center" of my being.

The hole inside me hurt so much that breathing became an effort. Sometimes, lost in my thoughts, I wondered: "Is this what the transformation feels like?" I couldn't imagine anything more painful than this—not even a vampire's venom.

It had been three months since Edward left, and each new day was just a repetition of the last: the same pain, the same emptiness. Nightmares would rip me out of sleep, screaming—and though they used to send Charlie rushing into my room, now he treated them with the resigned patience of someone who had grown accustomed to them. I didn't blame him. He was doing the best he could. But it was clear he didn't know how to handle what was happening to me. It's not like there's a manual for this.

When January arrived, I decided I needed to start acting differently—for Charlie's sake and my own. My biggest fear was that if I didn't show any signs of improvement, he would decide to send me back to Phoenix. And just the thought of it terrified me. What once would have brought me relief now filled me with panic. Leaving Forks meant leaving everything this place had come to represent for me.

My plan was simple: put on a brave face and pretend I was rebuilding my social life. I started by setting up study groups with Angela Weber, and although I still couldn't bring myself to sit with my old friends, I began choosing a table in the far-right corner of the cafeteria—far from the Cullen's old spot. However, the most significant step I took toward apparent normalcy was starting to spend time with Jacob Black.

I need to be honest: looking back, my reconnection with Jake wasn't just because I wanted to be with him. I know I was driven by selfishness. And when I think about it, I feel ashamed. You see, in one of my attempts to socialize, I invited Jessica Stanley to the movies. She was one of the few girls from my class with whom I still had some contact before everything fell apart. Jessica—God bless her—was many things, but empathetic wasn't one of them. I had to convince her to see an action movie instead of a romantic comedy. To this day, I wonder if she ever understood why I insisted.

Needless to say, the outing was a disaster. I barely remember anything from the movie, and Jessica seemed as disinterested as I was, despite my efforts to make conversation. Even so, it was on the way back to the car that I realized how I could get close to him again.

As we headed to the car, we came across a group of bikers. They looked just like the ones you see in movies: black leather jackets, lots of chains, and massive, roaring motorcycles. Even though I knew nothing about bikes, I found the models impressive. As soon as we saw them, Jessica grabbed my arm.

— "Bella, we should take another way." — For a second, I completely agreed with her. After all, I'd been through dangerous situations before and knew exactly what kind of risk this could pose.

— "Hey, princesses! Want a ride?" — one of the men shouted, flicking away his cigarette and straddling his bike. Jessica let out a startled squeal and, forcing a nervous smile, tried to drag me away.

— "Bella? What are you doing? Let's go!" — she asked, her voice tense, realizing I wasn't following her.

But I was lost in the memory of Edward saving me in that alley, the night I discovered who he really was. My heart raced, and suddenly, adrenaline flooded me, drowning out the pain that had consumed me for so long. Anxiety, fear, excitement—all these feelings I hadn't felt in months rushed through me.

— "Bella!?" — Jessica's voice grew more desperate as I took another step toward the biker. He grinned and patted the back seat of his bike, signaling me to hop on.

On the fourth step, a flicker of doubt crossed my mind. Maybe this was a terrible idea.

And that's when I heard it.

— "Go back."

It was him. His voice!

By then, I was only a few steps away from the bike, but Edward's voice rang out loud and clear in my head:
— "Stop, Bella. It's dangerous!"

And that's exactly why I got on the bike.

The engine roared, and the cold wind whipped against my face as we sped down the road. My heart pounded, threatening to leap out of my chest. His voice kept echoing in my mind, begging me to stop, to remember the promise I had made about my safety. But... what about the promises he made?

For five seconds, everything vanished—the pain, the emptiness, the loneliness. The sound of his voice seemed to cleanse my soul and warm my body. In those brief moments, I felt alive again.

Then reality hit me. In a panic, I told the biker to stop. Reluctantly, he turned around and dropped me off at the same place we had started. The moment my feet hit the ground, Edward's voice disappeared. And with it, the emptiness returned, as crushing as before.

— "What the hell was that, Bella?! Do you have a death wish?" — Jessica was furious, and rightly so.

But I didn't care. Because in that moment, I knew exactly what I needed to do. If taking risks was the price to hear his voice again, I was willing to pay it.

And that's how Jacob Black came back into my life.

The next day, after checking the prices of a few used bikes and realizing my savings would barely be enough to buy anything remotely safe, I remembered that Jake was a skilled mechanic. With a bit of luck, I found two old, broken-down bikes at the junkyard. The owner assured me they were salvageable, so I loaded them into the back of my truck and drove straight to the Quileute reservation, with one desire in mind: to hear him again.

Convincing Jake to fix the bikes was surprisingly easy. After I promised to help however I could, we got to work right away. Mostly, that meant I sat beside him while he got covered in grease and dismantled the parts. Occasionally, he'd ask me to grab a specific tool. At first, these meetings were fueled purely by my selfishness—all I wanted was to find a way to be with Edward, even if only in my mind. But, to my surprise, I began to look forward to those hours spent with Jake.

Jacob had a smile like the sun: bright, beautiful, and comforting. Despite being only sixteen, he radiated a joy and calmness that seemed to spread through the air. Slowly, being with him became an unexpected relief. In those moments in the garage, I almost believed that the hole in my chest was shrinking, as if the wounded edges were starting to heal. It almost felt normal again.

But that illusion always vanished the moment I was alone.

When we finished fixing the bikes and went for our first ride, Edward's voice echoed in my ears once more. I could feel my sanity slipping away, clinging desperately to the hope of continuing to hear that addictive melody. Not even crashing deterred me from riding again. Though I have to admit, seeing Jacob shirtless after the fall left me momentarily dazed, distracting me from the cut on my arm and the blood trickling down. It wasn't until the scent of blood hit me that the nausea kicked in.

That same day, Jake introduced me to the reservation's favorite "game": cliff diving. His brief description of the group that practiced it stirred a flicker of unease in me, reminding me of how—just as Quil had drifted away from Jake—I had pulled away from other friends when I started spending time with the Cullens.

I shook my head, trying to push away the ominous feeling that realization brought.

And then, Jacob left me too.

Maybe that's my fate: to be abandoned every time life starts to make sense, when everything finally seems to fall into place.

It all began after a fateful trip to the movies—a clumsy attempt on Mike's part to turn our outing into a date. Luckily, I managed to invite Jake along, hoping he'd make the evening less awkward. But things didn't go as planned. Angela and Jessica ended up canceling, leaving me sitting between two boys who seemed to compete for my attention.

While Mike tried to hint at something, all I could think was: Why can't I be like other girls? Why can't I just give him a chance?

The answer came like a painful sting in my chest. It wouldn't be fair to give my shattered heart to someone who deserved far more than just the pieces.

In the middle of the movie, Mike began to feel unwell. On the way out, I noticed that Jacob also seemed off. He was warm—absurdly warm. Not only that, but his recent growth spurt didn't make any sense either. I mentioned that someone with such a high body temperature could have seizures, but he brushed off my concern. Instead, he focused on what truly mattered to him.

We had a brief but intense conversation. He made it clear that he had feelings for me and that he was willing to wait. I felt sorry for him. How could I explain that there was nothing left inside me to give? All that remained were echoes of a rejected love. Even so, Jake promised he wouldn't abandon me. He said he'd be there when I was ready, to help me pick up the pieces and move on. And despite not wanting to place him in that position—as a future option, a safety net—I found myself feeling a flicker of hope.

I wanted to believe.

But the truth is, in the end, Mike wasn't the only one who got sick that night. I spent the weekend between trips to the bathroom, and when I finally felt better, I learned that Jake wasn't well either—or at least, that's what Billy wanted me to believe.

At first, I accepted the excuse that Jake had mononucleosis and that we wouldn't be able to see each other. But after two weeks without any answers to my calls, the depression started to creep in again.

I needed Jacob. I needed his light to keep me sane.

By the second week of March, I seriously considered confronting him. But when I finally did, all I got was the door slammed in my face. Jake revealed that he knew the Cullens' secret and was certain about who I had chosen.

I tried to explain that he was wrong, that now we could talk and understand each other. But he simply told me that, for my own good, I should stay away. And that's when Sam and the rest of the group Jacob had been hanging out with showed up.

— This is your fault! — I shouted, consumed by anger, as I moved toward Sam. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the other boys carrying a trembling young man into the forest. A sense of dread grew as I positioned myself in front of the towering Quileute, my fists pounding uselessly against Sam's chest, which didn't seem fazed in the slightest. Tears of frustration burned in my eyes.

— Enough, Bella. — Sam's voice was calm but carried an undeniable authority. He grabbed my wrists firmly, his hands as hot as Jacob's had been at the movie theater. — You made your choice. And he needs to deal with it without you around.

Sam's words hit me like a punch to the gut. Was I hurting Jacob? Was I playing with him the same way Edward had played with me?

"You flirted with him at the beach just to find out about the Cullens," an annoying voice that sounded suspiciously like Charlie's reminded me—great, now I was hearing more voices! "And then there are the bikes. You're a heartless bitch, Isabella Swan."

All the fight drained out of me. Sam had to hold me steady as I leaned against his chest, tears of shame and sorrow pouring freely.

— I didn't mean to… You have to believe me. — My voice was weak, lacking conviction.

— I know you didn't. But that doesn't change what you did. You gave him hope and used Jacob's friendship as a crutch. Now he knows the truth and has to deal with things beyond your understanding. We know about the leeches. — I winced at the word; Jacob had practically spit the same expression at me when questioning me about the Cullens. — It's knowledge passed down to the tribe's elders, a secret revealed only when the time is right, and he took it harder than we expected. — Sam let go of my wrists and took a step back. I stared at his bare feet, only now realizing that, like Jacob earlier, he was wearing nothing but shorts despite the torrential rain.

— Go home, Bella, before you get sick. I promise you, I'm not leading Jacob down a bad path, or whatever you're imagining. This is bigger than you.

"This is bigger than me." Isn't everything? I felt the weight of shame settle over me again and, with great effort, I lifted my head to meet Sam's gaze.

— Take care of him for me, please. And tell him I'm sorry. I hope one day he can forgive me.

Sam was nodding before I even finished the sentence.

— I will. That's a promise.

I retreated to the truck, sad and shaken. I'm not even sure how I made it home, driving on autopilot. After tossing my wet clothes into the corner of the room, I threw myself onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. The tears started again.

The next few days were spent back in "zombie mode." I stopped pretending to be normal; my nightmares now included a rain-soaked Jacob abandoning me in the forest, just like Edward had. Sam's words still stirred a mix of shame and sadness within me. Late Sunday night, lying in bed and pretending to read, I found myself reflecting on it all. When did I become such a selfish person, putting all my needs above the well-being of the person who had become my best friend?

"When did I become this person?" And really, when had I turned into someone so antisocial, withdrawing from others and only reaching out when I needed something? After all, I had used Jessica and Angela to fake normalcy for Charlie, and I had leaned on Jacob to fix the motorcycles during my desperate attempt to hear Edward's voice again. "Let's not think about that right now."

Growing up, I was always a bit too shy, with a tendency to stay in the background, letting others take the spotlight. Still, despite moving frequently, I managed to make a few good friends over the years, with whom I kept in touch—first through letters and phone calls, then through email. "When was the last time I talked to Claire and Susan?" The last email I sent to them was probably during my time in Tucson, letting them know I had settled in Forks and that my first week of school had passed without incident—though I'd left out the part about the weird guy who seemed to dislike me, not wanting to worry them.

They'd written me a few times after that, but as I got more involved in my relationship, I gradually stopped replying. Eventually, they stopped reaching out, too. Those bridges were probably burned now.

There seemed to be a pattern here: how my relationship with Edward had distanced me from others and prevented me from forming new bonds. Of course, I knew I had a good share of the blame for letting myself be swept away by my first love like this. In the process, I had completely lost myself. I had struggled my whole life to be a grounded girl, with a clear understanding of right and wrong, responsible and independent. Even though this independence and these responsibilities had been imposed at a very young age, due to my mother's free spirit. Not that I held a grudge; but often, food was only on the table and bills paid because I took charge.

Moving to Forks, I realized that Charlie also needed looking after, though much less than my mother, since he had learned to fend for himself all this time. I dedicated myself to making home-cooked meals and keeping the house clean, in return for my father's quiet affection.

"I've always been the caretaker, and when Edward showed up, I felt I could relinquish control. However, I ended up becoming what he wanted me to be in the process." The realization of this made my chest ache with pain. It wouldn't make me love Edward any less, but at least I could try to correct some things now that I had identified the source of my lack of control and what had turned me into this empty shell after his departure.

"It's not like we're going to have any contact again. Edward made it clear: it will be as if it never happened. I at least have to try; continuing like this will only make me hurt other people, just as I hurt Jake." Turning onto my side, I placed the book on the bedside table and turned off the lamp. I tucked myself under the blanket and closed my eyes. The last coherent thought before I was taken by sleep was a timid and hopeful "Goodbye, supernatural world."

I had no idea what was to come.