Me cooking up my little Golden Hour stew for this chap: *throws in a little Quil and Bella being besties* *dumps in some QUIMBRY AND BLACKSWAN YEARNING* *stirs in a little bit of charlie and bella bonding and bella growth*

BARK BARK. They have me in a chokehold, your honor. When will they free me? Never. It's been 15 years. I'M TRAPPED. and so are you reader. ENJOY. xo

Work was dragging more than usual. I only had 20 minutes until my shift ended, but each minute felt like an eon. To make the time go faster, I chatted with a customer eyeing the fishing supplies. Thanks to Charlie's weekly fishing trips, I had some more knowledge to keep up the conversation.

When Mike arrived to take over the register, the need to leave as quickly as possible before he asked any questions made me antsy.

"Quiet today?" He asked, coming behind the counter after I finished ringing up the customer.

"Yes, extremely. That last customer was the saving grace to my utter boredom."

I untied my apron as I rushed out to the cash wrap.

"Happy to see you back here, by the way. How's, um, everything going?" I could see the hesitancy lingering in his crystal blue eyes. I had to be the one to save us from the awkwardness.

"Thanks, I'm glad to be back. Everything's good. I better get going, though, need to make dinner for Charlie. See you soon!"

"Oh, okay. Bye."

I waved and smiled at Mike as I tried not to trip through the front doors.

The sight of the Mercedes' in the lot was laughable—it looked so out of place parked outside Newtons. It felt as if my hatred for it grew more and more each day since it was an attention magnet.

When I pulled out of the lot, the gawking from a man on the sidewalk solidified that fact.

I got home to Charlie, who was already setting out the ingredients on the kitchen counter for my planned baked ziti dinner.

"Hey, kiddo. How was your first day back?"

I slipped off my shoes and hung up my apron in the closet.

"It was good, just boring." In the kitchen, I washed my hands before handling the food. "The same old thing. Here, let me get that. Sit." I took the box of pasta out of his hand, terrified that if he did anything further with it, it would go up in flames.

"Still going to Quil's after dinner?"

"Yes, I think I'm going to be helping him clean. He also invited me to the bonfire at Billy's. Are you going to come? It's at 9."

"Yeah, need a damn break from work. So, did you talk to the kid Mike?" He asked, dragging back a chair to sit in.

"Very briefly." I turned the stove on high heat to let the pot of water boil, throwing in a dash of salt.

"Ah."

Pulling out the can opener from the drawer, I lined it up on the can's lip and peeled it off with a satisfying pop.

"It's always small talk between Mike and I."

"Yeah, but did he say anything about…well, he was there, wasn't he?"

I hadn't spoken to Charlie yet. Anytime he tried to bring it up, I'd shut it down, but I knew I couldn't keep it up for much longer.

"No, he didn't say anything about it."

"Well, can I yet?"

I sighed, pouring the pasta into the salty boiling water.

"Right now?"

"It's been weeks, Bells."

"Fine. Okay, we can talk."

My hair fell over my face, covering it as I leaned over the stove and stirred.

Charlie cleared his throat, adjusting himself in the seat.

"What did that bastard do to you?"

"Dad!"

"No, you can't keep me in the dark about this forever, Bella! Everything was fine and dandy; you followed Edward around like a lovesick puppy. I sure as hell didn't want you marrying him, but you said you were happy. What the hell happened?"

A flashback of the black sea of blood nearly knocked me to my knees out of nausea. But I didn't let Charlie see my trembling.

"I…I realized it wasn't what I wanted. I never wanted to marry this young or have a big fancy wedding like that. Edward and I had only been together for a little over a year-"

"Barely a year. Bastard left you for six months, remember?"

"Yes. I remember."

"But go on, there's more to it; I wasn't born yesterday. The night before the wedding, you were throwing up. I really thought it was just your nerves."

I fetched the strainer from under the sink to pour the boiled pasta into.

"It's complicated."

"Damnit, I'll go over there myself and-"

"Stop, stop! Okay. Yes, there's more."

"I'm all ears. Have been for weeks."

I paused, contemplating what to even tell him without actually telling him.

"I did feel very strongly for him. Still do, in a way. But I think I realized that we weren't a good match anymore. We're very different. He was also a little controlling sometimes."

"Controlling? I swear to God—"

"Dad, why do you think I haven't spoken with you yet? It's because of this reaction!" I sighed. "Hold on, let me finish this."

I finished preparing the baked ziti, popped it in the oven, and put the timer on before sitting across from Charlie at the kitchen table.

"Has he ever…hurt you? Physically." Charlie's face turned beat red, and he gripped the table.

"No. You don't need to worry about that. He got me that ridiculous missile-proof car, for crying out loud. He was overprotective to a fault. Like someone else I know," I mumbled, emphasizing the last part.

"Hey, I'm your dad…and a cop. But don't act like I breathe down your neck, Bells, I give you space. I just gotta know when something's wrong, especially major things like this."

"I know, I know."

"So is that it then?"

It broke my heart how completely clueless Charlie was and how I could never, ever tell him the truth.

"Yes, that's mostly it. I also didn't really fit in with his family. I wanted to, but I've always felt like an outsider around them—like I had to change myself to fit in."

He pulled a can of beer to his lips, shaking his head as he swallowed.

"You don't have to change a damn thing about yourself, kid. Sure, The Cullens may look a little out of place here; money can buy a lot of things, but I always thought they looked a little…strange. There's nothing for you to change."

I looked off at the timer on the oven.

"I just want you to be happy. I gave you my blessing and all that 'cause that's all your old man ever wanted." He sighed. "You told me Edward made you happy, but I always sensed something was off. It was too intense between the two of you; your mother and I even talked about it. I'm not sure that's really love, Bells. It felt more like obsession or infatuation. And when he left you and you just took him back with open arms, God, I had to hold my tongue a whole lot."

"I'm still figuring it out myself, Dad. It's not easy."

He took another swig of beer.

"Well, I know he's not the only one you felt something for," he muttered behind the can.

I immediately got up and flicked on the oven light to check on the ziti.

"Billy told me, by the way. You didn't tell me that he left either, kid."

I bit my lip.

"Apparently, he's been gone again for a couple of weeks. I didn't even know cause Billy didn't report it or anything. Said he called and that he's fine, but still, I wasn't in the loop."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. There's just nothing really to say about it."

"Yeah, well, he'll come back again. When he does, you have my permission to kick him in the nuts."

"Yes, he came back, but…I think it was to say goodbye. It felt more permanent this time."

"I don't know about that."

"I have a feeling."

I pulled plates and utensils from the cabinets and set them on the table.

"Why didn't you tell me he ran off again?"

"Because I didn't want to worry you—I didn't want you going around putting up flyers again."

He chuckled. "Same thing Billy said. Well, I'm not. I know he'll be back. It'll be okay."

"I hope so."

"Bella?"

I looked at his concerned face. His eyebrows furrowed, and his lips pursed.

"Do you wish Jake knew you didn't go through with it?"

"I just…want him to be okay."

That was the truth.

"Well, if he doesn't come back in the next month or so and doesn't call back, we'll go find him."

"Don't. He's probably happier where ever he is." I filled glasses of water for us and placed them on the table. "Dinner will be ready soon."

——

"Where should I put this?" I asked Quil, holding up his father's birth certificate that floated out from one of the piles I rearranged.

He leaned across the rickety bed to take it from me and placed it in one of the 4 piles of papers on the floor. The 4 piles were: Important, Garbage, Double Check with Joy, Double Check with Old Quil.

The room was stuffy, just as it was the night I slept here, except now it was even more dusty with all the cleaning we'd been doing for the past two hours.

I sneezed.

"Bless you," Quil said, mid sneeze himself.

I continued working on a pile in the corner of the room, stacking everything as neatly as possible. There was a lot of random junk—old receipts, expired coupons, checks, boating magazines— that I tossed into the small pail by my feet.

The room hadn't been cleaned in over a decade.

Quil explained that he caught Joy crying while leaving the room a few days ago, so he offered to finally clean it, and I was more than happy to help. After everything they both had done for me, it was the least I could do.

"God, there's just so much stuff," Quil exclaimed as he held up what looked like tiny glass fish trinkets.

"There is, but it might feel like more because it's such a small room."

"Could be true. But I feel like stuff would just keep appearing even if we threw all this in a big room."

"That's kind of what it feels like during a move, too. Things magically keep appearing. Like, where did this come from?" I picked up a small cracked lantern from under a sagging pile of folders. "I've been staring at this corner for how long and I'm only now seeing this."

Quil laughed. "That's what I'm saying."

We continued working and sneezing and sifting through the mountain of things.

"Thanks, by the way. You really didn't have to help, but it's a lot easier with someone else. And someone to kind of distract my mind from all of…this."

"Of course. Anything for you guys. Makes me feel a little less useless."

"Here we go, with your self-deprecation," Quil scoffed.

"Sorry."

"No S word."

"It's easy to be self-deprecating when everyone else around you is stronger."

"Quit it with that. I mean, you just told me what you did during the battle, distracting the redhead."

"Yes, but-"

"I'm just saying, you've got more power than you think. So knock it off with the whole "I'm a useless human, wahhh" thing. You do know like most people are human and not giant wolves or vampires, right? And not all of them would've been able to survive half the shit you have"

"I'm not so sure about that."

"Hey, Bella?" I looked back at him. "Shut up," he said with a smile.

I saluted and got back to work.

As I placed a frayed folder on top of the pile, the entire thing came down like a lost game of Jenga. All of my hard work for the past 40 minutes had gone to waste.

I pursed my lips in defeat.

"Here, I'll help you," he said, stepping over a few of the obstacles on the floor.

Papers of all kinds splayed out along the floor. With a sigh, we both bent down to collect them all.

The neat pile on the floor was almost complete, but beside me, Quil held something in his hands for longer, inspecting it closely, eyes narrowed. From the corner of my eye, he was reading whatever it was and I didn't want to pry in case it was something too personal with his father.

"Woah…" he whispered.

I moved the pile into a corner against the wall.

Quil sat on the floor, eyes wide as he read it, a hand running through his curls.

"Everything okay?"

"This is…this is really old."

"What is it?" I asked, crouching down next to him.

"Hold on." He held a finger up, eyes scanning.

In his hands appeared to be a collection of very aged papers bound together with thin black cords.

After a few minutes, Quil perked his head up. "You know a lot about our tribe's history, right?"

"Um, yes. I learned more from the tribal council back in June, too."

"This." He held up the tattered papers in his hand. "Is written by my great grandfather."

The writing was faded and didn't appear to be written in English or anything I recognized.

"You can read it?"

"Not all of it, but some of it I can make out; it's in Quileute."

"Well, what's it say?"

"It's just like a run down on shifters. Our story, how we came to be, rules. Lots of spiritual stuff, too."

He flipped through it, scanning again. I picked up a few remaining papers from the floor that I'd dropped.

"You've never seen this before?"

"No, never."

After a few more minutes of reading, Quil exclaimed, "Holy shit. These are recounts of spiritual visits from Taha Aki and his sons."

"Recounts? As in dreams?"

"I'm not sure. It's written more like an astral projection? It seems like actual encounters. It says they visited him often."

"If I'm remembering correctly, wasn't it a mystery what happened to Taha Aki?"

He nodded.

"What kind of encounters were they?"

"Lots of messages, guidance. It seems like they were friends? Like here, he and his sons spoke about other experiences they've had with vampires."

"Even…after they'd been killed?"

"Yeah. Seems like they've been watching over my great grandfather's pack."

"Wow."

"This part is talking about Taha Aki's third wife and imprinting. Holy shit!"

"What?"

"It's basically confirming that Billy's theory on imprinting is right, not Sams. That it's not about procreation or anything like that. It's for a select lucky few to keep them strong and focused. It says it's rare, which we knew. And it mentions females being able to phase."

"Okay, so, really no one read this because if they did, they wouldn't have been shocked about Leah," I said in awe.

"Yeah. But wait. Listen to this. This is new. It says only four pack members at a time can imprint." He put the pages down in his lap and looked off into space as he pieced his thoughts together. "So it's rare, not so much that it's not supposed to happen, but it's rare because only four wolves in existence at the same time can imprint."

My stomach dropped.

"How? I mean, how is that even known?"

"Apparently from Taha Aki's spirit guides. It's supposedly a part of our design. Wow, maybe that means there are other wolves out there that we don't even know about."

"Holy crow."

"Yeah, this is crazy. I mean, of course, we don't know if that's totally true; my great-grandpa could've been delirious writing this before he died. But, he was the last one of his pack to die, so it could've never got passed on because of that. Like maybe my father found it somewhere in old Quil's things and kept it. Then, before he could show it to anyone, he died? Or maybe he kept it to himself for some reason. I don't know, just guessing because we've never seen this."

"Wait, let's just think about this for a second. So if only four wolves at a time can imprint, there's three now…right?"

"Yeah."

"So then, if someone else imprinted, that would be it?"

"I guess, but that's only if it's true. We wouldn't know for sure unless it'd been a long while and no one else imprinted after the fourth wolf."

And then it hit me right then and there. Hard. Agonizingly hard.

I heard Edward's voice in my head from when I overheard his conversation with Jacob in the tent before the battle.

"You see, Jacob, you might leave her someday. Like Sam and Emily, you wouldn't have a choice."

This was a fear of mine. One I buried deep inside myself. I didn't think much about it since I chose Edward—there was no point. If anything, I wanted Jake to move on, to be with someone who chose him, fully chose him. But the selfish part of me now screamed.

Is that why Jacob hasn't come back?

"I wonder when it will happen," I said. "When the right girl is going to catch your eye."

"Don't get your hopes hope, Bella." Jacob's voice was abruptly sour. "Though I'm sure it would be a relief for you."

"Maybe, maybe not. I probably won't think she's good enough for you. I wonder how jealous I'll be."

"That part might be kind of fun," he admitted.

What if he imprinted? Now, without Edward, I couldn't bear it. I tried to swallow it down, but I couldn't.

I thought of all the other possibilities of who else could've imprinted, and I hoped so selfishly that it was anyone other than Jake.

Then I realized if it were true that imprinting wasn't for procreation, then maybe…

"Quil."

He looked up at me.

"You…you haven't, right?"

"I haven't what?"

"You haven't imprinted, have you?"

"Bella, what're you talking about? You think you wouldn't know that?"

"I-sorry, I know."

Sometimes, I truly hated the thoughtless, weak thing I was. I couldn't have just held my tongue?

"Wait, what would make you think that?"

Was it only obvious to me? Would I be completely out of left field if I told Quil my suspicions? Why did I put myself in this situation right now?

"Well…nothing, nothing."

"I mean, clearly, you have some idea in your head."

"I was just thinking."

He furrowed a brow.

"Who would I have even imprinted on? I don't hang out with anyone other than you and the pack."

I bit my lip.

"No, y-you're right. Never mind," I stuttered.

I felt the blush coming on heavy, and I knew he could see. I avoided his scrutinizing gaze.

"Bella…"

"Forget it! It was stupid to ask you."

"Something made you ask me that. You're a really bad liar."

"Can we forget I said anything?"

"No. Definitely not."

I covered my face with my hands. I knew he wouldn't let up.

"I was just… going through the possibilities in my head. And I thought I saw something, um, I-I'm probably totally off base here and-"

"Spit it out, Swan."

I worried that if I didn't spit it out like he wanted, he would've mistakenly thought I was talking about me being his possible imprintee. And I could not have that. Quil was too important of a friend to me.

"I thought I saw something between you and Embry," I said it so fast I don't think a normal human would've made out the words.

I couldn't look at him, but it sounded like the accusation knocked the wind out of him.

"But I think it's just that you have been friends forever or something. And you said it isn't for procreation, so it clicked in my head, and I jumped to a stupid conclusion. I'm sorry. Forget I said anything."

"I didn't imprint on Embry," he said in a low tone. I exhaled, hearing that he wasn't angry.

I wasn't sure what was running through his head.

"You didn't see anything between us. We're just friends," he said flatly.

But it was in the way he said it, so defeated and unsurprised, that made me think I wasn't totally off base. I didn't think either of them had imprinted, but it almost felt like Quil had confirmed there was something, even if it were one-sided.

"Okay. I'm sorry, Quil."

He didn't answer; he only sat there deep in thought, dozing off at the dust floating around us.

I wanted to slap myself for making him think about it, for potentially touching on something tender, all because I needed my own reassurance about Jacob. Ugh.

"Really. I'm not the best person for picking up stuff like that. I've read too much Austen in my life," I said, hoping to wake him up from his daydream.

Luckily, it worked.

He smiled. "Yeah, your view on romance is definitely pretty fucking skewed."

We both laughed and rose to our feet.

But I saw the yearning settle in his eyes.

—-

The Ateara's and I arrived at Billy's by 9 PM for the bonfire. I felt a little awkward, especially with Old Quil's disdain for me being so obvious and on display. However, I was surprised that he stayed in the house as Quil and I cleaned out his dad's room. Still, he didn't say a word to me, just stared blankly.

Upon entering the small red house, its familiar, cozy, yet stale scent overwhelmed me. A confused excitement swept through me but was swiftly diminished. It'd been a few months since I'd been here, and the last time was painful.

The door to his room down the hall was closed, and an intrusive thought passed my mind to open it, to see, to make sure.

I tore my eyes from the door.

Billy prepared some snacks in the kitchen as the four of us entered the tight space.

"Oh!" Billy said, taken by surprise as he turned to face us.

"Hey, Billy. Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. But we have something to show you. Couldn't out there cause Charlie and the moms," said Quil. "Bella found this in my dad's things."

Billy looked at me, and I waved.

"I didn't exactly find it; I kind of knocked over some things, and it fell out."

"Well, thank God you're a klutz," laughed Quil.

"Don't call her that!" Joy said, nudging her son in the ribs.

"Oh, no, Joy. He's completely right."

"It's true, ever since she was a little girl," said Billy with a tight-lipped smile.

Old Quil pulled out the papers from inside his brown vest and handed it over to Billy.

"I assume you've never seen this, old man here hasn't. My dad must've found it somewhere. Either he died before he had the chance to show anyone, or he purposely kept it to himself. Dunno."

Billy studied the pages, reading quietly to himself.

"Kids, why don't you go and bring the snacks outside?" Joy said.

Quil and I took the trays stocked with s'mores ingredients along with multiple bags of chips. Joy held the door open for us as we exited and went toward the back of the house.

A brilliant fire burned some feet away from the red house while the whole pack, their imprintees, moms, and Charlie sat on logs surrounding it. The chatter, laughter, and chaos amongst them all filled the otherwise quiet evening with life.

We set the things down and greeted everyone as they grabbed the food from the trays.

"Hey, kiddo," Charlie said, who was sitting beside the Clearwater's.

I climbed over onto the log beside him.

"Have a good time at Quil's?" He nodded toward Quil while he walked over to Sam.

"Yes, we were super productive."

"Good, I'm glad you have a new friend to hang around after, uh, everything goin' on right now."

"Me too."

"And Bells?" I looked at him; the fire lightened his face with an orangey glow. "I'm sorry if I was overbearing before. I never want you to feel like you can't talk to me. Things are tough for you right now, but I promise kid, you'll figure it all out. This too shall pass." He pulled me into his side and gave me a kiss on top of my head.

"Don't apologize, Dad, I get it. I can be like a wall sometimes. Wonder where I inherited that from?"

"Hey, well, at least we both know it."

I stayed nestled in his side as I watched the embers flicker out into the black sky. The faces of everyone across the fire were all glowing smiles and laughter.

In the center of it all were Jared, Paul, and Embry, laughing so hard they wheezed as they each tried to eat a giant towering s'more that someone had made. Embry got the closest before marshmallows slipped out from the sides of the graham crackers onto the ground.

He looked better, less tired. The color in his face was back, his long hair pulled into a messy bun with a braid running down the front. It was nice to see him look so carefree.

The pack, in general, seemed much less stressed now that they knew Jake was okay. They deserved a break.

Kim, Rachel, and Emily were beside them, singing a song I wasn't familiar with, but they kept laughing anytime Rachel tried to hit the high note in the song, failing. I would've loved to sit with them, to get to know them all a bit better.

Sam and Quil looked more serious than the rest, deep in conversation, likely talking about what we found today.

What caught my attention was Tiffany and Allison speaking to the far left of everyone. Though I wasn't much of a gossiper, I was dying to know what they were talking about.

For a while, it was a mystery as to who Embry's dad was, but Quil told me recently that it was officially Joshua Uley. Embry pried a bit more with his mom until she admitted that she didn't know him and barely remembered what he looked like since it was just one night. She told him his father's name was either Josh or Jack—she never caught his last name, nor did she ever see him again—but she didn't want Embry to go looking for him because she wasn't completely sure.

I couldn't help but wonder if Tiffany and Allison were connecting the dots, but I figured that was unlikely. Neither of them knew anything about the wolves.

I also couldn't help but wonder if they felt like outsiders. Did they sense anything at all? At least they still got to see their sons. I cringed, thinking about what I had originally planned to do to Charlie if I changed.

I gripped him tighter.

"Hey, Bella! Come here!" Emily called out, waving a hand over. I felt an automatic smile stretch across my face and pulled away from Charlie's grasp to sit with them.

The girls and I chatted about books and movies while we nibbled on s'mores. They were all very close, which made me feel slightly left out, but that was to be expected. I wouldn't have minded spending more time with them.

It was nice to catch up with Rachel and even nicer to see how she'd grown into such a smart woman. We didn't talk too much about the obvious—all she mentioned was that she slept on the couch since she felt too weird sleeping in his room. Other than that, she told me all about her time at Washington State University.

When the girls were talking about things I couldn't relate to or understand—they had a lot of inside jokes—my gaze found Quil, who gravitated to Embry. Again, they were looking at each other like that.

Quil seemed to need to be touching him. His thumb caressed Embry's knee, who didn't seem to notice at all. And when Embry took his hair down, shaking it out, Quil watched almost in awe. He even moved in closer.

Was no one else seeing this? This couldn't just be in my head. Maybe it was one-sided, but still, if it were true, how did Quil hide it from the pack when they were phased? Jake would've probably told me. Or…maybe not?

I needed to mind my own business. If Quil wanted to tell me, he would.

I stood up, excusing myself to the bathroom, and crossed the lawn to the Black's house. I hesitated upon opening the door.

Inside, it was empty. But it more so felt empty. It could've been filled with people, and it still would've felt that way.

Walking through the house was surreal. It was surreal that I was here and not at the Cullens. It was surreal that I was herebut Jacob wasn't. What a strange path I've ended up on.

Idling outside the bathroom, I felt Jacob's bedroom looming behind me. I bit my lip, looked down the hall to make sure I was still alone, and spun around to face the door.

Carefully I turned the knob, feeling butterflies shoot through my gut in anticipation.

But they lost their wings when I saw his empty bed.

It was just how I last saw it. Small—way too small for Jake—a little messy and cozy. The camo print comforter was hanging half off the mattress, and the deflated pillows were scattered about. I couldn't help but think that he had a difficult time sleeping.

I hovered through his room like a ghost, finding my way to his makeshift wooden dresser that had a few different car manuals and a piece of looseleaf on top. The paper had his handwriting scribbled on it, and I knew I shouldn't have looked at it, but I couldn't help it when I saw my name sprawled on top.

Bella,

I thought we were done with this note BS, but I figure this'll be my last one.

You're not even going to read this. Or maybe you will. Vampires can still read. But I've got a funny feeling that you're gonna be too dead to read it. Either one sucks. Whatever, we've already been through this. Let me try to say nice things.

I miss you, Bells. I miss your dainty little hand in mine. I miss the smell of your hair. I miss the way your nose would crinkle up when I annoyed the hell out of you.

I wish you saw what I saw. I wish you saw how breathtakingly beautiful you were. You only would've gotten more so with age. Too corny? Sorry.

I think I would've done anything to keep you around. I would've probably stopped the world if I could. I fucked up a lot trying, and I'm sorry for being a prick a lot of the time.

Nice things, nice things. Right.

Wherever you are, I hope you're happy. I mean that. That's all I ever truly wanted. Whether you're a bloodsucker or a soul floating around in space, I hope you're happy, and I hope you know how deeply loved you were by everyone. If it's the latter, say hi to my mom for me, will you? I think you two would've gotten along pretty well.

Anyway.

I love you, Bella Swan. I always will. No matter how fucking strange and illogical you are.

Jacob

I put the paper down before I ruined it with tears. A violent wave of emotion crashed over me, and I stumbled backward onto his bed.

I've heard Jacob say things like this repeatedly, but it hit so much harder right now. It hit harder imagining him writing this alone in his room, sick with worry over me, truly believing I was going to die.

Jacob had always been right, and I realized that. No, he didn't go about everything the right way, but who could prepare for something like that? It was life or death, and I never took its weight seriously enough.

I curled up in his bed, pulling his comforter up to my face. It smelled exactly like him. My Jacob. How badly I'd hurt my Jacob.

But he was never mine. Jake and I were doomed from the start; I'd always known this. We were doomed in more ways than one.

Even now, after I'd decided not to marry Edward, we were still doomed.

He was likely the fourth wolf.

Much like how Jacob wanted me to be happy no matter what, I felt the same for him. If he found her, I was happy. The truth was that I treated Jake like trash, and he certainly deserved better than that, than me.

As much as it hurt, there was nothing I could do. I'd be getting through all of this alone. No one to lean on. No lover to rely on. It was me and me alone now, something I had to be okay with. I just had to dig inside myself to find the strength to keep myself together. Edward nor Jacob were going to be the ones to do that for me.

I had to be strong now. For myself.

Turning over on my side, the comforter soaking up my tears, I noticed something small on the windowsill next to a carving knife.

I reached over and grabbed it, and upon inspection, I knew immediately what it was.

It was a tiny red wooden carving of my truck.

I clutched it to my chest and quietly cried.

But I had to be strong now. I had no other choice other than to pull myself up.

After a few minutes, I slipped the carving into my pocket, exited his room, and closed the door behind me.