Chapter 2: Bella's POV
I stared into the night sky long after Jacob disappeared into the woods, his silhouette swallowed by the darkness. Tomorrow night, I would be running away with him. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying. I sank onto my bed, the weight of the decision pressing down on me.
My mind wandered to the way Jacob hugged me earlier. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt safe—secure. When he held me, his warmth wrapped around me, grounding me in a way nothing else could. It was so different. With him, it was always cold. He was careful—too careful—like I was made of glass that might shatter if he hugged me too tightly or kissed me too long. But Jacob…he didn't hold back. When he hugged me, it felt natural, like we were pieces of a puzzle meant to fit together.
I smiled to myself, the memory of our first kiss creeping into my mind. It was so sweet, so simple, yet it had stirred something deep inside me I didn't want to admit. That moment had brought back so many memories I tried to bury—memories of the Jacob I once knew, and the Jacob I couldn't live without.
Without realizing it, I started making a mental list of what to pack. Clothes, some money, the essentials. Charlie was working late at the station tomorrow, so I'd leave him a note, explaining everything. Well…not everything. He wouldn't understand, not fully. As I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes, I let myself imagine a life with Jacob. Just the two of us, far away from Forks. A small house, maybe near the ocean. Warmth, laughter, safety. It felt almost too perfect to be real.
Flashback
I sat between Mike and Jacob in the dimly lit theater, the glow of the screen washing over us. My hands rested awkwardly in my lap, the armrests on either side already claimed—one by Mike, the other by Jacob. Both their hands hovered there, leaving barely enough room for mine. I sighed quietly, resigning myself to keeping my hands to myself.
The movie's gore intensified on screen, and suddenly Mike shot to his feet. "Okay…um… I think I'm gonna throw up," he muttered, rushing toward the bathroom.
Jacob scoffed, leaning closer to me. "What a marshmallow," he said with a smirk. "You need someone who laughs at the gore that makes weaker men vomit."
I laughed despite myself. "Yeah, I'll keep my eye open for that," I teased.
Jacob's humor faded, and I noticed him glancing toward the ground. There was something restless about him, like he was debating with himself.
"I feel bad," I said, trying to fill the silence. "He probably has the flu, or—"
Before I could finish, Jacob's hand found mine, his fingers lacing with mine so naturally it took me a second to register what was happening. Warmth spread up my arm, but panic gripped me just as quickly. I pulled my hand away, the intimate contact too much, too fast.
Jacob's jaw tightened, and he didn't look at me as he muttered, "What? I can't hold your hand?"
"It's not that," I stammered, struggling to find the right words. "It's just… it means something different to you than it does to me. So…" My voice trailed off as I met his eyes. Hurt and rejection stared back at me, and it cut deeper than I expected.
That night, Jacob started avoiding me. I didn't understand it at first, but now it all made sense. How could I have been so blind?
Present
I sighed, staring at the ceiling as the sound of the front door opening and closing snapped me back to reality. Charlie was home. His familiar footsteps echoed through the house, moving between the living room, the kitchen, and finally up the stairs. When I heard him pause outside my door, I quickly turned over, pretending to be asleep.
The door creaked open, and I felt his presence before I heard him. He stepped inside, tucking the blanket around me the way he had since I was a little girl. Then, he kissed my forehead and whispered a soft, "Goodnight, Bells," before turning off the light.
My heart clenched as I listened to his retreating footsteps. Charlie deserved someone to take care of him, someone who could be there for him the way he'd always been there for me. But that person wasn't me. Not anymore.
I turned back to face the ceiling, the room now shrouded in darkness. Maybe I should stay. Maybe running away wasn't the right choice. But then I thought of Jacob—his face, his warmth, his pain. I couldn't let him down. I promised him I'd go, and I intended to keep my word.