Chapter 3: Jacob's POV

It had only been a few minutes since I left Bella's house, but her words still echoed in my mind. Maybe you can run away from it. For the first time, I allowed myself to consider it. Could I really leave it all behind? I thought about Billy. Who would care for him? Charlie could help, but still… And Emily—she was too busy playing mom to the pack to take on anything else.

I sighed as I phased back, pulling on the pants I'd stashed behind a tree. The cool air felt sharper than usual against my skin, grounding me. As I walked back toward the reservation, everything began to feel more real. Billy and Charlie had each other. Bella and I had each other. Maybe, just maybe, this could work.

But then I heard the howl—Sam's call. I groaned and phased again, tying my pants around my left leg before taking off toward Emily's place. Thoughts from the others started filtering in.

Jacob, where were you? Sam's getting pissed. Embry's voice filled my head.

Jacob! Report back to Emily's now. Sam's not happy. Paul's tone carried its usual edge of command.

Yeah, yeah. I'm coming, I thought back, irritated.

When I reached Emily's house, the entire pack was already gathered. Even my dad was there, which was never a good sign. Whenever Billy showed up at these meetings, it meant trouble—for me.

I phased back behind a tree, pulling on my pants once more. The thought crossed my mind—maybe I should just wear a skirt like Leah. She had it way easier. The image made me shudder as I stepped into the house.

The room fell silent as I entered, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Sam stood up, his glare fixed on me like a predator sizing up its prey.

"I told you not to say anything to Bella!" he snapped, his voice low and dangerous.

I glared back, holding my ground. "I didn't!"

The elders exchanged disapproving looks, none more piercing than my father's. My jaw tightened. I hadn't broken Sam's gag order. I didn't tell Bella about the secret. All I did was remind her of the story I told her at La Push, to make her think.

Billy wheeled himself forward, the brim of his hat casting a shadow over his eyes. He sighed heavily before speaking. "Jacob, you need to stay away from this girl. You know what she's involved with—those filthy bloodsuckers!"

I clenched my fists, staring at the floor as I sat on the couch. My head dropped into my hands, and a bitter laugh escaped me. "You've all imprinted," I muttered. "Every single one of you. Except me."

The pack shifted uncomfortably, murmuring words of pity I didn't want to hear. Their hands reached out to comfort me, but I shrugged them off, the touch only making my anger boil hotter.

Jacob's POV: Decision

I stormed out of Emily's house, my thoughts racing. I couldn't stay. Not like this. Phasing back into my wolf form, I sprinted home, the night air rushing past me. By the time I reached the house, my mind was made up.

I shifted back and threw on some clothes, packing as quickly as I could. Two hours later, I had crammed my life into a single suitcase. It wasn't much, but it was enough. Before I left, I scribbled a note for Billy and left it on the kitchen table:

Dad,
I'm sorry. Please don't come looking for me. I'll come back when I'm ready.
Love,
Jacob

I didn't wait for second thoughts to creep in. As I phased and ran toward Bella's house, I felt a strange sense of freedom, tempered by the weight of what I was leaving behind.

Jacob and Bella: Leaving Forks

When I reached Bella's house, I tossed a few pebbles at her bedroom window. The faint sound of the window sliding open sent relief washing over me.

"Hold up!" she whispered. "Meet me by the front door."

I nodded, heading to the porch. A few moments later, the door opened, and Bella stepped out, dragging two suitcases and her worn Jansport bag.

"Hey. You ready?" I asked.

She gave a small smile. "Yeah. You?"

"Yeah…" I hesitated, studying her face. "Bella, listen. You don't have to do this."

Her eyes locked onto mine, steady and unwavering. "Jacob. I promised you I would, and I'm sticking to it."

The sincerity in her voice made something tighten in my chest. I smiled, grateful in a way words couldn't capture. "Thank you."

She returned the smile, softer this time, before we carried her things to the truck. After loading the suitcases, I paused to take one last look at the house. This place held too many memories—too much pain. It was time to let it go.

The Road to New York

The next three days were a blur of highways, roadside diners, and quiet moments in the truck. Bella and I took turns driving—she handled the day shifts, while I drove through the night. We didn't talk much, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable. It felt like we were both processing everything we were leaving behind.

I couldn't stop watching her when she slept. She looked so peaceful, like all the weight she carried melted away in those moments. Her hair would fall across her face, and her breathing was soft and steady. Sometimes, when the nightmares came, I'd wrap an arm around her shoulders, murmuring reassurances even though I knew she couldn't hear me.

She'd mumble in her sleep, her voice faint but filled with emotion. "Jacob…" or "I hate you…Edward…" The latter twisted the knife in my chest every time. Watching her fight those demons hurt more than I wanted to admit.

But as I drove, I reminded myself why we were doing this. New York was a fresh start, a chance to build something new. For her. For us.