Author Archive for Kinga

Seducing Ms Swan: Kapitel 14-15

Chapter 14

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She falls asleep and all she thinks about is you
She falls asleep and all she dreams about is you
When she’s asleep the air she’s breathing is for you
You’re why she wants to live
She’s not got that much more to give
But it’s too late to realise you’ve made mistakes

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
One would think that an eight hour plane flight would give me enough time to come up with some sort of plan of action for saving Bella. Hell, in eight hours of doing nothing at all but sit, brood and get angrier and angrier as I added yet MORE ways in which Cullen had screwed up Bella’s life to what seemed like a never ending list, I should have been able to formulate a detailed blueprint of how to run into the hospital, grab Bella, get her to safety and then return to royally kick Cullen’s ass.

The problem was, however, that I had no clue just how hurt Bella really was. Plus, there was a not so little hitch in the fact that the hospital was sure to notice if one of their patients just disappeared from her bed. Also, I couldn’t shake the awful thought that if Cullen had…bitten her… then Bella might not want to be saved. In fact, if that was the case then I would probably be the one who needed saving. So I had nothing.

In other words, I was completely and utterly screwed. Excellent.

And even as I arrived at the hospital and jumped out of the taxi that I had got from Rochester airport, I still had no idea of how I was actually going to confront the vampires. I could feel adrenaline coursing through my veins and my heart was pounding- in other words, my body was raring for a fight. But I knew that I couldn’t just run in there and punch the living daylights out of Edward. Sure, that’s what I wanted to do; Sure, I had pretty much dreamt about the day I finally got to give Cullen some sort of payback for all the shit he had caused for years, but I had to put it aside. I wasn’t an angry, angst ridden, jealous teenager anymore. I was alpha of the pack and a husband, soon to be father.

I had responsibilities, damn it.

But I was here now. There was no turning back; no more thinking time. I had a job to do.
For the second time in less than ten hours I found myself running through a hospital. It was a surreal experience; even though I had crossed two thousand miles it felt like I was still at my starting point, on some sort of crazy hospital treadmill.

I found out where Bella’s room was from a receptionist at the help desk, and then set off running before she could even finish giving me directions. A couple of staircases later, I turned a corner into a wide, empty hallway.

I knew that I had found the right place straight away. A repulsive stench was coming from a room at the end of the corridor. It smelt like a mixture of burnt sugar and rotting flowers and made me want to gag. That had to be a vampire. My werewolf instincts kicked in and I suddenly had an overwhelming urge to kill the enemy, neutralize the threat. My legs suddenly began to move faster and I realized a few seconds too late that I was hurtling towards the blue door at break-neck speed. Somewhere from inside my head a voice was telling me that this was a very stupid idea, but I ignored it. I was a predator, the vamp was my prey and I was going in for the kill.

I burst through the door into a hospital room not unlike Brady’s in Forks. Only of course, this one came with a bonus vampire.

I’d like to be able to say that the minute I laid eyes on Cullen I launched myself at him in a bone crushing tackle and that pretty-boy vampire experienced carnage worthy of Underworld: Evolution. But that, unfortunately, isn’t the truth, because the minute I came into the room I caught sight of Bella. The moment I saw her, I felt my breath catch and my entire body deflate, my anger at Cullen evaporating, forgotten.

She looked so broken. Not just because she was attached up to a bunch of beeping hospital machines, or because a significant amount of her body was covered by bandages and casts- although that stuff obviously didn’t help- but because of the harrowed, gaunt look to her face. It was shocking. Even in sleep, she looked like a completely different person to the one who had come to stay at La Push only a few short months ago. That Bella had been capable of laughter and producing smiles, however weak; this Bella looked like she’d never be able to form a laugh again. It was like someone had taken at her soul with a scouring-pad, beating away at her strength and spirit until nothing was left but this, a lifeless, hollow shadow of a person. Sadness seemed to seep from her; it filled the room like thick smog, suffocating every other emotion. Bella had never been the happiest of people for obvious reasons, but it had never been like this before; not since those dark months following her eighteenth birthday.

And it was these thoughts which led me to finally pay attention to the other person in the room. He was standing at the foot of Bella’s bed, barely a few strides from where I was at the door. The smell was awful.

I’d almost forgotten he was there; I had been so shocked by Bella’s appearance. As I faced him, however, I felt the anger that had slowly built up in the long journey to New York come rushing back, stronger than ever. Although I could see from a glance that Bella was still human and my worst fears had been unfounded, I was certain that Cullen was still somehow involved. In Bella’s hospitalization, her zombie-like appearance, whatever. It was just too much of a coincidence that after over five years of relatively uninterrupted peace, everything had suddenly gone wrong in Bella’s life the moment that Edward was back on the scene.

The vampire looked exactly as I remembered him- and by that, I mean exactly. It was bizarre. Whereas I had grown over a foot in height and developed a body I was still trying to fully catch up on, Cullen looked identical to the last time I had seen him; fairly tall (but obviously nothing compared to me), lean, pale, bronze haired, dark circles beneath his eyes… True, the super-human beauty and physique meant that he looked older than his supposed seventeen years, but there was no way of telling by his appearance that more than half a decade had passed since we had last met. He was watching me, his entire body stiff and on edge. The tension in the room was almost suffocating.
“What did you do to her?” I asked, each syllable costing me a great effort as I tried not to lose my shit completely. I tried to go to Bella’s side, but there was a flash of movement and I found my path blocked by Cullen.

“Don’t come any closer,” he said, his words laced with foreboding. The sound of his voice was like velvet under fingernails and it made me shiver with nausea.

“Get out of my way,” I ordered him, taking a step further. I had to hold my breath to stop me from gagging at his stench. My hands were curling into firsts and I could feel my shoulders trembling with balled up rage.

The vampire shook his head. “If you think I’m letting you anywhere near Bella in this state-“

I almost roared with indignant anger. How fucking DARE he!? Like I’ve ever been a danger to Bella.

“Of course you’re a danger to her- it’s the occupational hazard of being a werewolf, dog.”

I froze. What!? How did he… and then it suddenly came back to me, something Bella had told me a long, long time ago.

Edward can read minds.

I stood there, gaping in absolute horror.

No.

“Yes,” Cullen inserted in a triumphant hiss.

You have to be fucking kidding me! I thought wildly. Edward Cullen, leech and life-destroyer extraordinaire had the power to read my thoughts. Could this situation possibly get any worse?

Get out of the way, I repeated, this time in my mind. I wasn’t sure how his freaky mind-reading ability worked, but in my head I pictured myself grabbing Cullen by the collar and throwing him with full force out of the window, in the hope that he’d get the message. I might have been guilty of inserting a couple of Buffy-style wooden stakes plunged through his chest to my mental image for extra impact, but that’s neither here nor there. All I know is that whatever Cullen saw, it seemed to piss him off.

He took a step towards me in a way that was clearly supposed to be intimidating. I knew that I was probably supposed to be scared, but all I could focus on was that there were now less than three inches of un-vampire-inhabited space before me, and to a seriously misinformed and screwed-up outsider it might have looked like we were about to embrace or something. GROSS, GROSS, GROSS my internal twelve-year-old screamed and I leaned as far away from him as I could without actually stepping away. A muscle in Edward’s face twitched, and I knew he’d heard my thoughts. He seemed to choose to ignore them though (which was a very good thing), just preferring to glare at me. I decided to re-assert my macho-ness by pelting him with another round of inventive Cullen murders.

Just as I was picturing Edward being stuffed into the hospital trash-compactor and then dumped into the Genesee River, I was interrupted by a loud growl. “Are you threatening me, Black?”

Well, duh. “That depends,” I growled back in a voice oozing with scary alpha-male machismo.

“On what?”

“On whether your next words are ‘I’m getting my stench-ridden blood-sucking ass the fuck out of Rochester’.”

As soon as I said it, I knew it was one smart-ass comment too far. Cullen snarled in anger and his hands flew out to grip my throat, but I pre-empted him, bringing my forearms up and jabbing them outwards, knocking his hands away in a basic self-defence manoeuvre. Surprisingly, he didn’t see it coming. It appeared that his head invading powers were limited as far as I was concerned. That was reassuring.

However just as I was about to test just how big his ‘blind spots’ were by aiming a punch at his pretty face, I heard the sound of people entering the room behind me. Next thing I knew, someone had pinned my arms from behind and spun me around, slamming me up against the wall so that my face was squashed uncomfortably against the plaster.

“What the fuck?!” I swore, “Get the hell off of me!” Even without the foul stink assaulting my nostrils I would have known from the cold hands on my arms that my attacker was a vampire. I struggled against his grip, trying to turn around and see how many leeches I was now up against, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said warningly, tightening his hands. From the corner of my eye I could just make out Cullen arguing with tall, blond bloodsucker who looked like he was attempting to calm Edward down.

And then something very odd happened. It was as though a bucket of warm water had been thrown over me; I felt a fuzzy numbness sweep through my body and I suddenly realized that I felt weirdly at ease. All the anger that had been coursing through me just seconds before had mysteriously melted away, leaving me feeling disorientated and confused, as though I’d been sedated. I stopped struggling against my captor and felt my legs wobble slightly. The room was beginning to look very weird, the walls expanding and contracting before my very eyes. I imagined this was what an acid trip would feel like, although I’d never tried the stuff myself. As I was wondering whether Cullen had somehow managed to slip me something, I heard a voice floating somewhere from above my head.

“Alright Jasper, that’s enough. He’ll pass out if you’re not careful.” Almost as soon as the speaker had finished, I felt the fog begin to lift from my mind. I lay there with my eyes closed, still feeling groggy and confused. Above my head, another voice joined the first.
“I have no idea what just happened,” it said, in surprised confusion, “I’ve never seen anyone react like that before.”

“It must be the werewolf physiology,” the first replied. “Their immune system is naturally designed to produce protective barriers against our kind, which is the reason that Alice can’t see him.” Who are they talking about? I wondered. Is he invisible? “I can only assume, Jasper, that when you used your power on him his body’s defences went into overdrive trying to block you, causing certain parts of his brain to shut down. The natural shields he has against us will no doubt grow stronger the more he’s exposed to our presence, so I’d expect that both you and Edward will have less and less effect on Jacob as time goes on.”

It was as though my name was a hook, pulling me from the dark. At the sound of it being spoken aloud, the remnants of the fog in my mind were blown away. And, as I felt my senses sharpen, I suddenly became aware that I was lying face down on the floor, with a room full of vampires peering down at me.

I scrambled to my feet, alarmed and angry at myself. What are you doing, letting your guard down in front of a coven of vampires?! As I stood, the leeches instinctively backed away and fell into a closer-knit group. Some of them assumed a defensive stance, which I mirrored, whilst mentally calculating what I was up against.

There were five of them now. The one who had pinned me to the wall was at the front. He was huge; his muscles strained against his clothes like boulders; no wonder I hadn’t been able to overpower him. Standing slightly behind him to his right was a small black-haired girl and the tall blonde male I had seen speaking to Cullen. Cullen himself was standing in the middle with one other; a man with blond hair and kind, intelligent eyes who was wearing a white coat. On seeing him, it was instantly clear that he was the undisputed leader of the group and, as I looked closer, I realized that I remembered him as the Dr. Cullen; much missed by the inhabitants of Forks and widely acknowledged as the best GP the town’s hospital had ever had. He seemed surprisingly… normal. I had been expecting him to be more… well, vampire-like.

I saw Edward smirk and I scowled. Get out of my mind, bloodsucker.

He narrowed his eyes at that thought and he hissed slightly. I responded by glowering menacingly at him. Three words, Cullen. Bring. It.On.
Before things could escalate beyond threatening looks, however, doctor McVampy spoke, cutting through the tension.

“Hello Jacob, my name is Carlisle.” What, we’re on first name terms now? Oh Doc, I didn’t know you cared. I didn’t say this out loud, obviously. It was one thing baiting Cullen when it was just me against him; it was a completely different ball game when I was outnumbered five to one. Knowing that I couldn’t trust myself not to say something I might regret, I remained silent, my eyes trained warily on Carlisle.
“I’m one of the doctors who have been treating Bella, and this is Alice, Jasper and Emmett. You seem to already be acquainted with Edward.” I just gaped at him. Was he for real? Apparently unaware of my disbelief, the undead doctor continued: “I know it must be very hard for you to see Bella in her current condition, but as a surgeon responsible for her care, I am going to have to ask you to try and keep calm, especially when you’re in this room. I’m sure you’ll agree that Bella’s safety has to come first.”

I was speechless. I was hanging out in a hospital, surrounded by blood with a bunch of vampires and yet I was apparently the number one threat to Bella’s safety. The injustice of it rankled. I was just going to point this out (phrased in a way that wouldn’t get me killed), when Doc spoke again.

“Do you want to go closer to Bella?” I was shocked by the offer. Was it some kind of trick? But he looked completely sincere; there was nothing in his expression to suggest that he had some sort of ulterior motive in his question. Edward was clearly as shocked as I was by his leader’s words.

“Carlisle,” he said in a low voice, watching me with narrowed eyes, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, what if he loses control?”
I glared at him. “Are you kidding me? What if I lose control? We’re surrounded by blood, and you’re worried about me posing a danger to Bella? I’d like to remind you, leech, that out of all of us here I’m the only one who’s never killed a human.” In truth, that was a just an assumption. By the expressions on their faces, however, I guessed I was right. Cullen was clearly thinking of something to say in retort, but Carlisle interrupted him.

“Just let him through, Edward.” At first Edward looked like he was going to challenge the command, but he must have seen something in Carlisle’s face which changed his mind, because after a few moments he let out a begrudging sigh and gave a curt nod. Unwillingly, with a glance that made it crystal clear how little he trusted me, he moved to the side, his vampire siblings following him.

My path to Bella was now finally clear, and I swept past the bloodsuckers without giving any of them a second glance. Thoughts of anything but Bella were completely sidelined as I moved to her bedside, my heart pounding and chest tight. She looked even worse up close, and I was struck again by her pale, thin face, the dark circles under her eyes, her damaged demeanour.

Had I not known better, I would’ve thought that Cullen had bitten her.

As I thought this, a growl rose in my throat, proving that my desire to murder Cullen, although temporarily shocked out of me by spotting Bella, was rushing back with a vengeance. I turned around and looked accusingly at Cullen. “Did you do this?!” I pointed to Bella’s injuries and death-like appearance.

He shook his head “There was an accident, she-“

I didn’t wait for him to answer. “What was it,” I asked, sneering, “weren’t you satisfied with breaking her heart and screwing up her life? Did you want to come back and finish the job by killing her?” I could feel myself getting angry again and part of me (the part which usually spoke in Carole’s voice) was aware that I was being reckless. After all, picking a fight with a coven of bloodsuckers when I was outnumbered five to one was right up there with the ‘Top Ten Most Stupid Moves Ever’, but I was finding it very hard to care at that precise moment.

“Watch it, buddy,” the big one growled in response to my sentence, taking a menacing step towards me. I let out a derisive, mocking laugh.
“What, am I too close to the mark? Is that what you were doing Edward? Or perhaps you were trying to see whether you can make Bella comatose every time you see her?”

Edward shook his head. To my surprise, he looked stricken by my words, as though I had punched him with them. After a second of confusion I worked out why. As I had said the word ‘comatose’, an image of Bella in her worst post-Cullen-leaving moments had flit into my mind, something which had seemed to shock and pain Edward. I would’ve been shocked too, if I was him. Bella in those days had not been a pretty sight.

Which was why I’d be damned if I let him hurt her again.

“It was nothing to do with Edward,” a voice cut in, causing me to turn my attention from Cullen. It was the black haired girl, and she was looking at me like something she had just stepped in. “Bella was hurt in a motorcycle accident.”

I had heard this already- it was the same story they had fed Charlie- but I just didn’t believe it. I’d thought it over on the plane from Washington, and the more I mulled it over in my head, the less it made sense. Even if I looked at this totally objectively, without taking into account the fact that I hated Cullen with the raging strength of ten thousand fiery suns, I couldn’t believe that Bella would be hurt in a motorbike accident. She was always so careful when she drove and she hadn’t been hurt on that bike since she learned to use the thing. She had trouble reaching forty on a freeway, for Christ’s sake. And yet here I was being told that she just happened to decide to take it out for a spin in a snow storm and just happened to almost die in the process, with absolutely no outside influences whatsoever.

When I said as much out loud, my words were met with total silence. I took that to be a confirmation of guilt. It seemed that Cullen, however, wasn’t going to give in that easily. “Look, it wasn’t like that,” he said, weakly, apparently still stunned by what he had seen in my head.

I was losing patience with this. “Then what was it like? Go ahead; explain to me in your own words just why I’m here in a hospital in Rochester, 3,000 miles from where I’m supposed to be, and Bella looks like she’s been on a trip to Hell and back strapped to a nuclear weapon.”

“Bella was at our house-“

I almost choked in shock. “She WHAT?!” I began, outraged, but I was silenced by the threatening looks of five pairs of vampire eyes.

“-and there was… a misunderstanding between her and myself. Before I could explain, she tried to leave; she’d received your phone calls, and she was going to get on a plane to Washington. I tried to stop her leaving, she refused, and we had an argument. She told me I had no right to tell her what to do; I tried to reason with her and then…” he stopped again, seemingly struggling to continue.

“What?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

“I told her what I’ve been trying to tell her for weeks; I told her the truth.”

“Which is?”

Edward took a deep breath before responding. “That I love her, that I’ve always loved her, that I was an idiot to leave her. I’ve spent the last month trying to explain, but it hasn’t been easy. Every time I tried to speak to her she’d cut me off, or else just avoid me altogether. I finally managed to make everything clear last night.”

There was a deadly silence as I just gaped at Cullen, trying to process what he had just said. Finally, I managed to choke out: “You told Bella you loved her?”

He nodded.

I couldn’t help myself; I lunged at the bastard.

Obviously, I never made contact. Before I could get within three inches of his stinking hide I was flung back by the two male leeches, the blond one then darting forward to grab and restrain me. I was shouting and cursing the whole time. “How could you tell her that?! You had no right! You fucking piece of shit”- I felt the same numb, calming sensation as earlier beginning to creep over me, only this time it was much weaker, so much so that with a bit of concentration I managed to push it back, keeping my anger strong and undiluted. From over my captor’s arm, I snarled at Edward.

“Why?! Why did you have to tell her that you loved her?”

“Because I do, dog.”

“No, you don’t!” How could he even think that, let alone say it? He had no idea what love was; if he had loved Bella, he never would have left her. I thought about Carole; her wavy red hair, the way her cheeks dimpled when she smiled, the sound of her voice when she laughed and the movements she made with her hands when she spoke. I couldn’t imagine ever having the strength to leave her, or ever seeing the need to.

“It’s because I love Bella that I left,” Cullen said defensively.

Oh grow a pair. “Really?” I asked cynically, “How did you work that one out?”

Edward sighed, and from his slightly beaten posture it looked as though he had had to explain this many times before. “I wanted her to be safe; I wanted to remove her from the danger of being associated to me. I was trying to protect her.”

He was trying to protect Bella? He was trying to PROTECT her?! “You DICK!” I shouted, lurching forward again. The blond vamp’s grip, which had loosened somewhat in the lull, suddenly became vice like again. “Do you have any IDEA what she went through? I’ve spent years trying to put her back together, to repair all the damage and shit you caused…” again, I hit him with a couple of images of Bella in the months after he had left. It must have had the desired effect, because he grimaced and hung his head.

“I know, I-“

“No,” I cut him off, “you don’t know,” I paused here, trying to control my breathing as the memories of the darkness of Bella’s zombie months came flooding back. I fixed Cullen dead in the eye, knowing that he could see everything I was thinking. As I spoke, I matched my words with pictures in my mind. “You weren’t there to make her get up and go to school when she was so bad she couldn’t even drag herself out of bed in the morning…” I took another breath. I wondered if this was as hard for Cullen to hear as it was for me to say. “You didn’t get frantic phone calls from Charlie at three a.m. begging you to come over because she was sobbing on the kitchen floor… you didn’t spend every moment on edge, waiting for something small to happen to set her off again. So don’t you dare try and tell me that you understand, or that you’re sorry.”

Edward winced again, at the fresh images of Bella. “I know how much I’ve hurt her,” he finally managed to say, “and I’m going to spend the rest of my existence trying to make it up to her, if she’ll let me.”

I shook my head “There is no way in hell that’s happening. It’s too late to try and make up for what you’ve done; you made your choice, you left.”

“I came back.”

“You didn’t ‘come back’, you ran into her by accident six years after you originally left!”

“But I stayed,” he said in desperate tones.

“What do you expect for that, a medal?!” I asked, disgustedly. It was almost as if he was pleading with me; begging to be forgiven. If he had been anyone else, I might have felt sorry for him, but coming from Cullen it was just pathetic. “Deciding to stroll back and grace us all with your stinking presence over half a decade after destroying Bella doesn’t make you any less of a bastard. In fact, it just makes you worse.”
I was talking about Bella, yet my accusations also rang true for Brady. As far as I was concerned, a significant amount of the guilt for his death belongs with the Cullens. As I thought this I was horrified to find that my eyes were pricking at the edges, and jerked my head away. What was I, a kid?

I hoped to God that Cullen hadn’t heard that part, but judging by what the leech said next, no one was listening to my prayers. “Bella told me about what happened with Victoria,” he said quietly, “and I know you don’t want to hear it, but I really am sorry, for everything. I will forever be indebted towards the pack for protecting her when I failed, and if there’s anything I can do to help Brady-“

I growled violently. “Hell no, you do not say his name.”

Edward inclined his head. “I can see why you’d feel that way-“

That made me even angrier. “Oh you can, can you?” I thought I had already told him to stop pretending he understood. “You haven’t got a fucking clue. Imagine it was him,” I pointed at the muscled one, who immediately tensed at my movement, as though he thought I was going to attack. I barely glanced at this, however; my attention was completely fixed on Edward, “Imagine he was the one who got attacked, and you were running to save him the whole time, but deep down you knew that you weren’t going to be fast enough…” I could feel myself beginning to tremble, but I was trying my hardest to keep it together. Surely there were only so many times I could break down in one day. “Imagine,” I continued, “if one of your brothers was tortured into insanity and you saw every moment of it in your mind, felt every blow like it was against your flesh, every scream like it came from your own lips. Imagine he was nearly killed trying to protect the girl YOU loved, that your coven saw you as responsible- even if they denied it- and that you had to live with the guilt for the rest of your life, facing the constant reminder of how you let your brother down every time you looked into the rest of their eyes.”

These were things I’d been thinking for years, but never said aloud, not even to one of the pack. I couldn’t believe I was finally voicing them to Cullen of all people. But there was no avoiding it any more. All the grief and anger I had been trying so hard to fight was really taking hold of me now, clouding my better judgement and throwing caution to the winds. Here, I didn’t have to worry about staying strong for the rest of the pack. I didn’t have to worry about upsetting Carole. The only people around to witness my break down were the Cullens, and what was the point in trying to hide how I felt when Edward could read my mind anyway?

Speaking of which… the vampire had suddenly gone very quiet. I couldn’t restrain a shaky, bitter laugh. Maybe the guilt was finally getting to him. “Have you run out of words, leech? Dried up your well of empty apologies?” I didn’t even know what I was saying anymore. I didn’t know what I thought I was going to gain by taunting him in this way, or even what I wanted him to say in response. Nothing he could say would make this better. I guess I was just so far gone that I wanted to pick a fight, regardless.

And then, suddenly, somebody spoke from behind me with a small voice that was most definitely not Cullen’s.

“J-Jake, is that you?”

I spun around and found a pair of wide brown eyes staring back at me.

Bella had woken up.

Chapter 15
Is there a light
At the end of the road?
I’m pushing everyone away
‘Cause I can’t feel this anymore
Can’t feel this anymore
Have you ever been so lost?
Known the way and still so lost?

I don’t know exactly when I came back around. I don’t think it happened all at once, more like in short drifts.

I didn’t know where I was.

It felt as though I was wading through a thick fog that, try as I might, I couldn’t quite escape. Sometimes I thought I could see shapes or hear voices through the never-ending white, yet when I tried to call out to them I found I couldn’t speak. I tried to run towards the sounds and figures, but it was futile; every time I felt like I was getting close they would disappear, slipping through my fingers like mist.

I was alone; powerless; lost.

The voices around me continued to fade in and out of audibility like a poor radio transmission. Sometimes I thought I could hear someone talking directly to me. A man. His voice called to me, soft and familiar yet sorrowful- a bittersweet melody written in the key of guilt. I tried to reach out for to? him, but I couldn’t move. I wasn’t sure where I ended and the fog began.

In my isolation, I began to dream.

I dreamt that I was overlooking a forest somewhere by the ocean at twilight. In the distance I could see a brown-haired girl standing all alone. I could see that she was crying, shouting, shaking with an emotion somewhere between grief and terror. It seemed like she was searching for someone; I thought I could hear her calling a name into the trees but to no avail. I wanted to help her and I tried to walk towards where she stood but she began to stumble away from me into the forest. I tried to follow her, but I couldn’t move fast enough. I cried out, but my voice seemed to be the trigger; the woods suddenly began to melt away, swallowing the girl up in a twisting mass of darkness.

A series of images began to flick by almost too quickly to process. They all featured the same girl, sometimes alone, sometimes with a tall, dark haired boy with russet coloured skin, but always with the same expression of sorrow on her heart shaped face. The visions were imperfect, however; they were dotted and faded like slides from an ancient reel of film. They bloomed into sight before dissolving and being reduced to memory, just like the years they seemed to represent.

Then everything changed again. The pictures solidified and another scene was set.

The forest had gone; the backdrop of the ocean had been replaced by a beautiful house set by the side of a large lake. It was snowing now. The girl was older; a young woman, with weariness and betrayal etched into her tired eyes. She was standing opposite a pale-faced young man with bronze hair, and she was crying again but there was also anger there this time. She was shouting something at him, but the words were unclear. Then the man kissed her. In my head I felt my breath catch. Yet too soon it was over; she pushed him away and took a step back, her entire body trembling. Again, I wanted to intervene, yet again, I was powerless. She ran, then the image flickered and she was on a motorbike, riding fast despite the ever thickening snowfall. Too fast.

Not looking where she was going, not paying attention to anything but the thoughts inside her own head, she turned out onto the main road.

And then, I knew what was going to happen. The last vestiges of the fog were blown away, the voices cut out completely. My memory came back as clear as glass, causing my perspective to shift at the speed of light. I was no longer the onlooker and the girl was no longer a stranger; we were one and the same and I was back in my own head, on the bike, speeding away from Edward, straight into the path of an oncoming truck.

The screech of a horn cleaved through the snow covered air and as I turned I saw a monstrous cargo truck skidding towards me …I tried to swerve the bike out of the vehicle’s path, but I had turned sharply into a patch of thick black ice, made worse by the fresh coating of unsalted snow… The bike squealed under my hands and did a sharp pin wheel, leaning heavily to one side and toppling over with me trapped painfully underneath…As I smashed my head against the cold, hard surface of the road, I knew I was a goner…

As the flashback gripped me, I knew I was only seconds away from the impact of collision and from having to relive the accident again. So I escaped in the only way available to me; I ripped my eyes open, breaking out of my mind…

I was greeted by a harsh bright light. It blinded me, burning into my retinas and I instinctively shut my eyes again. Yet even then the light continued to pulse against my lids. For a few seconds I panicked, thinking that I’d been hit by the truck after all and was lying face down in the snow. Then I realized that I wasn’t cold, or lying on hard ground. In fact, I wasn’t even in any real pain. I was surprisingly numb, although I ached slightly. You’ve had worse, I thought, vaguely. Much worse.

I could hear voices again, the same ones from earlier. They were closer now and much clearer, but I was still finding it a challenge to understand what they were actually saying.

I decided to brave opening my eyes again. Peeking through my eyelashes, I could see that I was lying in a hospital bed in a small, white-walled room. To my right was a large window, covered by a blind. Through the slits, I could make out a cloudy, snow saturated sky.

So it had really happened, then? Everything I had just seen, or rather dreamt had actually been my memories- the snow storm, my argument with Edward, his kiss and my escape on my bike. I thought for a moment, trying to remember.

He had told me loved me. That he had left for my own good. My stomach physically churned at the memory. I love you – all this time, all these years- wanted you to be happy – the desolation of his leaving- I’m so sorry- the pain his lies caused- To keep you safe- the nightmare that was Victoria… the damage done to Brady.

The nausea intensified as I remembered everything that had happened before my argument with Edward- the missed calls from Jacob and frantic phone messages, the news that Brady had had a heart attack, the uncontrollable guilt… As it all went through my mind, I remembered the way I had stood in the snow, screaming at Edward, damning him, blaming him for everything that had happened with Victoria.

I remembered how I had broken down and admitted the truth, telling Edward that I loved him too. Then he had kissed me. It had been electrifying and terrifying at the same time, wonderful but terrible. It had scared me. I had pulled away and run to my bike, unable to deal with my own emotions or the potential repercussions of everything that had just happened.

The crash. That part must have been real too; that would explain why I was in hospital now. But, there couldn’t have actually been a collision, I decided; if there had been I surely wouldn’t be alive now.

So, despite all the odds, I had somehow managed to avoid most certain death. Again. It’s like I’ve just walked off the set of ‘Final Destination’, I thought wryly to myself. Joking aside, though, I knew that my miraculous survival could not have been pure luck. I had had outside help. I knew at once who had saved me, but that didn’t stop me from turning my head ever so slightly to check if my theory was correct.

And it was. Of course it was.

Standing a few feet to the left of me was the one person I simultaneously most dreaded and most longed to see. Edward’s fists were clenched and his beautiful face was contorted with emotion. His eyes were set on a spot somewhere by my head, out of my field of vision- the same place that the main voice in the room seemed to be coming from, but almost the very second that I moved my head, his eyes snapped to look at me.

I couldn’t help but shiver under the intensity of his gaze. As I looked into his darkened irises, the full force of everything we had said to each other the night of the accident – the last time I had looked into those eyes- came back to me, hitting me like a wave.

I forced myself not to cringe as I remembered the way I had cried and shouted, trying my hardest to break Edward in every way possible. I had said some awful things. I had lied, too; I had all but blamed him for Brady’s death, and that wasn’t completely his fault. It was mine, too. I had told the pack that Brady could protect me on his own; I was the walking danger magnet.

So I had lied, yet, somehow, I couldn’t find it within myself to feel guilty. Edward had lied too, and the scale of his lies made mine look totally insignificant in comparison.

He loves me.

I still couldn’t process it. I kept repeating it in my head, thinking that it would make more sense, or shed some light on the whole sorry mess that was Edward’s logic. He had lied to protect me. He had ruined my life to save it.

No, it still didn’t make any sense. It was still the stupidest thing I’d ever heard.

Somewhere, deep beneath the numbness of painkillers and confusion of waking up after being unconscious, I could feel some of my anger returning. It was distant and slow bubbling, yet there all the same. I tore my eyes from Edward, feeling that if I kept on looking him and remembering more of what he had said, I would soon start re-enacting our argument in the snow.

It was only as I stopped focusing on Edward, that I began to pay attention to the other people in the room. Edward’s family was here, but they weren’t looking at me, they were looking at someone else, listening to the same person somewhere beside me who had so caught Edward’s attention. For the first time, I concentrated on the voice, catching the tail end of a sentence.

“-out of words, leech? Dried up your well of empty apologies?”

The flash of recognition was immediate.

I know that voice.

But what was he doing here? He was supposed to be in Forks…

“Jake, is that you?” I croaked, realising for the first time how hoarse my throat was. With great effort I managed to heave myself up into a sitting position. Ouch. That really hurt. My heart sank- judging by past experience, I had broken at least one rib. As I moved, I sensed rather than saw Edward take an involuntary step forwards, as though to help me, but I pretended I hadn’t noticed anything. Instead, I looked up just in time to see none other than Jacob Black turning around to face me.

“Bella!” he cried, “you’re awake!”

Well, obviously.

“Um, hi,” I said, lamely.

“How do you feel?” Jacob seemed anxious.

“Sore,” I said. I twisted my torso slightly, trying to test the rib theory, and winced. This time, there was no doubt about it- Edward definitely moved towards me. He seemed to think better of it, though, and attempted to mask the movement as him simply shifting from foot to foot. The whole thing was so unlike him with his usual poised demeanour, that I couldn’t help but stare. He’s nervous, I thought to myself with amazement.

I watched Edward for a couple of seconds. He looked overwhelmed by emotion. His eyes were on me as though he was transfixed. It was unnerving.

I looked back at Jacob and noticed for the first time that he, too, seemed different. His face was flushed, and his breathing very slightly faster than usual as though he had been shouting. I wondered how long they had been like this, in my room, before I’d woken up. I began to wonder what had happened, and what they had said to each other. I had never expected- or wanted- to have Edward and Jacob in close proximity to each other ever again, and now that it had happened I was unsure how to react.

“So, um, what’s the damage?” I asked, tentatively. I didn’t actually want to know so much as I simply wanted to break the silence. I looked at Carlisle as I said this.

From his spot next to Edward, Carlisle reeled off a list of my injuries, none of which sounded dramatically serious. I said as much, but nobody looked at me; they were all watching Jacob.

“What’s going on?” I asked, confused, “Jake, what are you doing here?”

He didn’t miss a beat in answering. “I’m saving you from being devoured by a bunch of leeches.”

His words made me gasp. “Jacob!” I admonished, looking quickly at the Cullens, who were all glaring at him with severe dislike. I heard somebody- I was pretty sure it was Emmett- growl something along the lines of “If he says that one more time-”

“Jake, you know the Cullens aren’t like that,” I said, intervening before Jacob could spark off inter-species warfare. “They don’t drink human blood, you know that. They wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Wouldn’t hurt you?” Jacob almost choked in on? his indignation. “Then please explain to me why you’re here.”

Before I could say anything, Edward spoke again. His voice was low and quiet, but with a deadly edge to it. “We’ve already been through this, Black. It was a motorcycle accident.” He stopped there, but the rest was implicit; and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop accusing us.

Forget Final Destination; this was swiftly turning into The Godfather, albeit a supernatural re-make.

“Whatever, bloodsucker. Even if you didn’t have anything to do with the accident, you can’t try and plead ‘not guilty’ for the way she looks. If ‘emotional mind-fuck’ was a perfume, Bella would be on a billboard ad in Time’s effing Square.”

Um, what?

“What on earth are you talking about?”

Jacob looked at me, his eyes full of concern. “Bella, no offence, but you look awful, even without the injuries. I haven’t seen you look this sad and run-down since… well, since they left the last time.”

“Wow… thanks,” I said blankly. I didn’t know how else to respond.

“I’m just trying to say that even if ‘Edward’ didn’t hurt you physically it’s blatantly obvious he’s done some sort of emotional damage!”

I opened my mouth but then closed it again, finding myself unable to speak. I wanted to correct Jacob. I wanted to tell him, as I had done in our first phone call after Edward’s arrival in my classroom all those weeks ago, that Edward would never hurt me, but I couldn’t; I couldn’t make the words come out, because it simply wasn’t true anymore. Edward had hurt me; he had caused ‘emotional damage’, as Jacob put it. He had willingly and consciously lied to me in a way which had ramifications for years afterwards- in a way which was still hurting me to this very day. You could even say that what Edward had done was worse than simply causing physical hurt. Scars can heal, but the pain he had left me with had proved to be much more long-lasting.

I could feel everybody’s eyes upon me, Edward’s especially. I knew how the fact I had failed to defend him must look, but I couldn’t bring myself to lie just to save his feelings.

I tried to change the subject before the awkwardness of the pause could get any worse.

“Jake, even if I am hurt, that’s no reason for you to come all this way. They need you in Forks. Carole and Brady need you.”

“I-they-that doesn’t matter,” Jacob seemed thrown off course by my words and tried to change the subject. “I should have come here weeks ago. I should never have let you convince me that Cullen wasn’t dangerous. Everything that’s happened just shows that you’d be far safer at home, in Forks, which is what I’ve been saying all along.”

“What, with you?” Edward seemed to have reached his breaking-point. I didn’t totally blame him; Jake was being especially trying.

“Yeah, with me, you pathetic piece of-”

“If you think that I’m going to let Bella run around with a pack of jumped up hormonal puppy dogs then-”

“’Let’ her? ‘LET’ her? It’s got absolutely nothing to do with you. You don’t own her!”

“Neither do you!”

“I know her a lot better than you do!”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really!”

“How’d you work that one out?”

“Because I never would have been stupid enough to think that leaving her and breaking her heart would make her happy!”

Edward winced, as though he had been slapped. Evidently, they had already covered this whilst I was asleep. “You know I’d do anything to take that back.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s done, it happened and we’re all still trying to live with the consequences. Just accept that you had your chance and you blew it. Let her come home.”

“She isn’t safe with you. You’re a werewolf!”

“And you’re a vampire!”

“AND I’M A FUCKING VIRGO!” I practically screamed, almost scaring the two of them out of their wits.

Everybody in the room looked at me, shocked, but I didn’t care. I was mad. My head hurt, my bones ached, I was covered in gauze and bandages and attached to frikking tubes and instead of simply being allowed to sleep like I wanted, I’d found myself thrown into the middle of a superhuman squabbling match between two people who were most definitely old enough to know better. I glared at them so fiercely, I actually saw Jacob take a step back.

“I am not a piece of meat,” I said, enunciating each syllable with painful clarity. “It is not up to either of you to decide what I do or where I go.” I looked at Edward, “I don’t care that you’re a vampire,” I looked at Jacob, “and I don’t care that you’re a werewolf. I’ve never given a crap about any of that. All I care about right now is that you are both acting like a couple of total dicks.”

I half expected them both to point at each other and shout ‘he started it!’, based on how immaturely they were both acting. They said nothing, however, just glared at each other. I groaned.

“You know what? This isn’t going to work. It’s obvious you can’t be in the same room with each other without fighting, so I’ll talk to you separately.”

I had no doubt as to who I wanted to speak to first. I still wasn’t happy with the explanation Jacob had given as to why he had left Brady’s side to come here, even though he had known that my injuries weren’t life threatening. Furthermore, I was no where near ready to confront Edward just yet. I still had no idea what I was going to say to him. Calming down Jacob would buy me more time.

“Jake, stay here. Everyone else…” I looked at the other Cullens. I felt a bit embarrassed that they had to witness this. It was a bit like being in charge of two naughty toddlers who kept acting out in the supermarket.

Luckily, Carlisle seemed to understand my discomfort. “Okay everybody, time to leave.” Alice, Emmett and Jasper all turned to leave immediately, barely even pausing to throw a parting glare at Jacob. I had a feeling that they were relieved to escape the tension which had built up in the small room.

Edward, on the other hand, didn’t move a muscle. “I’m not leaving you with him.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please, Edward. I pretty much spent the last two years of my adolescence alone with Jacob. If he was a threat I think I would’ve discovered it before now.”

Edward looked like he wanted to object, but a few well chosen words from Carlisle managed to persuade him. Guided by his father, he took a few jerky steps towards the door. He paused to look at Jacob.

“I’ll be right outside here, Black. If there’s any trouble…” he trailed off, his intent clear.

Jacob didn’t seem to be able to resist another smart comment. “Bite me. Oh wait, on second thought, don’t.” Edward growled.

“Oh for God’s sake,” I groaned. “Jacob, sit down and shut the hell up. Edward, it’s fine. I’ll talk to you later. Good bye.”

I stared at him, trying to make my eyes as persuasive as possible. I hoped against hope that my promise to talk to him after Jacob had left would be enough to win him over. Finally, it seemed to work. Edward turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Jacob rounded on me. “What are you doing? Why did you let him go? I’m not done with him by a long shot; if he thinks-”

I ignored him. I had had enough of Jacob and his smart mouth for one day. My patience with him totally exhausted, I said bluntly: “What are you doing here?” My question cut Jacob off mid-rant. He looked at me, open-mouthed, the many rude names he had devised for Edward still hanging in the air.

After a few seconds, he regained his composure, pretending to look hurt by my question. “What, so a guy can’t check that his best friend is okay after she’s been in a life-endangering ‘accident’?”

“He can, but that’s what a telephone is for.” I chose not to acknowledge the scepticism he had attached to the word ‘accident’. “People don’t usually fly two thousand miles to visit someone in the hospital for a couple of broken bones, especially not when they’ve got as much going on at home as you do.”

Jacob looked stung. “Are you accusing me of being a bad alpha? Or husband? Is that what this is?”

“No,” I replied calmly, “I’m just trying to work out why you’re here.”

“I told you, I’m here to stop Cullen from turning you into casserole!” He said it in an angry, patronising tone, as if it was obvious.

I shook my head, “No, that’s not the only reason. There’s something else.”

There was a pause. “Bella, are you trying to be annoying? Just spit out what you’re trying to say.” He was getting angry, but then again so was I. I was too tired for these games, and I was sure he was making getting to the bottom of this difficult on purpose.

“You’ve known all along that Edward wasn’t going to do me any harm. Ever since he arrived in Rochester I’ve been telling you that he was safe for me to be around.” Even as I said it, I knew Jacob would object.

“Safe?! Bella, I keep saying this but for God’s sake just LOOK at the state you’re in! Broken ribs and burns and God knows what else and all because-”

I groaned. Here we go again. “This wasn’t Edward’s fault! It was a motorcycle accident; it’ could’ve just as easily happened in Forks. He might be guilty of many things, but my hospitalization is not one of them. He saved me from that truck and he’s the only reason I’m not smeared across the highway right now!” Jacob flinched at the visual and I felt satisfied. I wanted what I was saying to hit home.

“Look,” I continued, lowering my voice to a more sociable tone, “think about it rationally. The Cullens have been here for over a month. If any of them really wanted to hurt me they would’ve done it before now. Don’t try and tell me that you thought they were just biding their time for the last seven weeks, because I don’t believe you.”

Jacob was suddenly avoiding my eyes, his gaze fixed on a random spot on the floor. “I don’t understand what you mean,” he said, clearly trying to keep his tone casual. However something about his body language told me he had an idea of what I was implying.

“I’m saying that I think everything you’ve said about coming to Rochester to protect me from Edward and his family is just a cover- an excuse. It’s not the real reason you’re here.” I couldn’t help but marvel slightly at my own boldness. It was totally out of character for me to be this blunt, but I felt it was necessary. I suppose that finding out the truth about Edward and our resultant shouting match had knocked some sense in to me, or at least it had shown that the only way to avoid misunderstandings was through complete honesty.

“Then what is the real reason?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. Jacob snorted, but I ignored him. I knew that there was something up; something he wasn’t telling me. It didn’t add up. Sure, I was hurt, but that didn’t justify Jacob blowing all of his savings on a plane ticket to Rochester and leaving his pregnant wife and dying friend behind just to see me. That was how the old Jacob would have behaved- the rash, hot-headed 15 year old he had been when we were teenagers. It wasn’t who he was now; becoming alpha and meeting Carole had calmed him down and made him more rational, so I was at a total loss as to why he was acting like this. What could possibly have made him decide to abandon all his responsibilities in Forks and come running to me?

Unless… unless it was the responsibilities that were the problem? That the pressure from being in charge at such a difficult time had just been too much to take, to the point where running felt like the only option? And, as I thought this, it clicked. Everything began to make sense.

“Is this…” I hesitated, unsure of how to say what I was thinking without upsetting Jacob any further. “Is this… has this got something to do with Brady?”

Jacob didn’t answer. I could only see a small portion of his face now; he had turned away from me so that he was facing the opposite wall. His features were stiff and expressionless, but I could tell that he was listening.

“It has, hasn’t it? That’s the real reason you’re here.” It might’ve been a question, but I wasn’t expecting an answer. Jacob didn’t give me one. “You’re scared,” I continued. “You’re scared for Brady. You’re scared that he might die.”

He still wasn’t looking at me. It was as if he was trying to move as far away from me and my words as possible; as if by ignoring what I had to say, he could make it untrue.

I thought about it some more. Now it all made sense. That was just so Jacob. Thinking that he had to be strong and brave the entire time, and freaking out the moment he got scared. Refusing help or guidance to the point where he almost caved under the pressure.

“You want to do something, but you can’t,” I said slowly, thinking out loud, “you can’t stop what’s happening to Brady. You can’t stop the rest of the pack from expecting the worst. You’ve never felt so powerless and it scares you.” I looked at him. He had turned around and was staring at me.

“You’re w-wrong,” he said. He was trying to appear unmoved by what I was saying but the tremor in his voice gave him away.

“Am I?” I questioned, looking at him closely. “I don’t think so, somehow. You are scared; I can see it in your eyes, Jake.” I thought about everything he was going through, trying to put myself in his shoes. “It’s like you’re trying your hardest to be strong for the rest of the pack and support them, but inside you feel like screaming. You feel lost and isolated, but you can’t admit it to anyone because that would be admitting that you’re not in control. You don’t know how to deal with everything that’s happening, so you’re trying to ignore it and push it away by focusing on something else.”

By focusing on me.

Because that was it, wasn’t it? By coming here, under the cover of ‘saving me’, Jacob was essentially just putting off dealing with what was happening to Brady. He would think about that later, some other day- right now he had Bella to save, Bella to worry about. I would be a lot easier to ‘save’ than Brady, especially seeing as, deep down, Jacob knew I wasn’t in any real danger.

“I think that you wanted so badly to be doing something, instead of just sitting and waiting for bad news that when you heard about my accident you jumped at the chance to make yourself useful and take control,” I said quietly. I looked at Jacob, and I knew I was right. It was written all over his face.

I paused, not wanting to voice what else I thought. I also suspected that somehow, the situation with Brady had worsened Jake’s insecurities to do with Carole’s being pregnant and his becoming a father, but I wasn’t going to say that. It was one thing for me to talk about Brady, where we both had common ground, but Carole was a totally different area. I had no right to speculate about their relationship; that was something which was private and precious to the two of them. Anyway, Jacob was already shaken up enough by what I had said.

He was staring wildly at me, searching in vain for words with which to rebuke my accusation.

“Shut up!” he finally said, unintentionally coming across as a ten-year old. Had I been anyone else- except, obviously, for Carole- Jacob would’ve sworn at me, or threatened me. But I was Bella, his oldest and closest friend, which left him in a total dilemma as to how to respond to what I had just said. This internal conflict was clear, as he continued to speak. “Just…just shut up. That’s not it, that’s not how it is at all…” he ran a hand through his hair, his hands trembling. “You can’t just lie there and say this kind of stuff… or try to tell me what I think or how I feel, like it has to be true. You don’t know me, you don’t…” he trailed off. I think he realized, even as he said the words, that he was talking crap.

Because the thing was, I did know him. I knew Jacob Black like I knew myself; years of friendship had made me used to every little movement, gesture or thought. If he’d been a subject, I would have passed with top grades. That’s how I could tell what was going through his head; that’s how I knew that all this bravado about ‘murdering Cullen’ was just a cover- an alibi for what he was really doing. Running. Trying to leave himself and his responsibilities behind.

I watched Jacob. He was determinedly not looking me in the eye. I think he was trying not to cry. I instantly felt guilty. This is your fault, I scolded myself. Here’s your oldest friend, he’s been worried sick about you and this is how you repay him? By ripping away his defences and psycho-analysing him within an inch of his life. Yes, I felt bad.

But, at the same time, I’d come to realize that by not confronting what was going on with Brady, Jacob and I were just making things harder for ourselves. Six weeks ago, I could barely even say Brady’s name without crying, but that was before my argument with Edward; that was before I had been forced to tell the story to the Cullens. Now, after having relived everything that had happened that night with Victoria, I felt more able to deal with it. It was as though ignoring the problem had just allowed it to grow bigger and more suffocating. Facing it head on had somehow helped dispel some of the pain.

However, that didn’t mean I wanted to see Jacob break down. “Jake…” I said quietly, using all the strength I could muster to try and shift myself in the bed, leaving a small space on the edge for him to perch on. He just shook his head, his eyes still downcast.

“No, I’m fine, I don’t need your sympathy,” he muttered. That hurt, even though I knew I probably deserved it. There were definitely tears pricking the corners of his eyes now. The guilt intensified.

“Jacob,” I repeated, firmly. I had to stop this; I had to help him. Forget everything else; forget the fact that the Cullens were standing outside, or that I was strapped to a hospital bed with multiple injuries. The most important thing in my life at the moment was ensuring that my oldest and best friend was okay. At the repetition of his name, Jake reluctantly looked at me and the sight of his eyes, red and wild almost made me break down in tears myself. “Come here,” I whispered.

Slowly, shakily Jacob crossed to my bedside, where he sunk to his knees. Tears were falling silently down his cheeks now and his hands were shaking as I took them, reaching out with my left, undamaged, arm. He was saying something, but I wasn’t sure what; it was too quiet to hear. It could’ve been anything from an apology to a prayer. Whatever he said I had an inkling that it wasn’t for my ears; I wasn’t the one he wanted to speak to. That person lay inert and unreachable, speeding away to somewhere neither of us could follow.

I felt something hot roll down my cheek and realised that I was crying too.

“He’s dying, Bella,” Jacob finally managed to say, his voice muffled.

“I know.”

“He’s only eighteen.”

“I know. I… I’m so sorry.”

There was a long silence. I didn’t know what else to say. So I just sat with Jake as he knelt by me, his head resting against the side of the bed, his cheek touching the mattress. I rubbed his arm, trying to be consoling.

After what seemed like an eternity, Jake’s breathing began to slow. I didn’t speak; I knew he’d talk when he was ready. More moments passed then, with what seemed like extreme effort, he straightened up and looked at me.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I don’t know why you’re apologizing.”

“You were right, I shouldn’t be here.”

“That’s not what I said-”

“But it’s true all the same.” He sighed, getting up and pressing both hands against the wall. He leant against it, staring blankly at the space in front of him. When he spoke again, he didn’t seem to be addressing me in particular, more just thinking out loud. “I…I just wish there was something I could do.”

“I wish there was a way to help him…but there isn’t. That’s the hardest thing to accept; that everything is beyond the pack’s control, even though whatever happens will affect all of us.”

I just nodded. I knew how much it sucked to have the power to control your own future taken away from you- to have something or someone else make your choices for you. I couldn’t help but wonder if Edward was listening to this conversation.

“I don’t blame you,” I told him, after a while, “not for any of it, especially not for being scared. I was terrified when I got your phone messages the other night- I was planning to get a plane home straight away, but then… well, this happened.” I gestured at the monitors and wires that surrounded me. I shook my head. “You were right. I really am a liability- a walking disaster.”

Jake laughed, albeit weakly. “You weren’t totally right, you know,” he said, after a pause. He was playing absent-mindedly with the edge of my covers, but looked up at me as he said this. “I was worried about what Cullen might have done to you. You have to admit, the circumstances seemed pretty sketchy. It is totally out of character for you to have an accident on that bike, let alone decide to ride it in a snowstorm. I mean, who does that, Bells?”

I grimaced. “That was… an oversight.”

“An ‘oversight’?!” Jacob said, unable to keep a hint of incredulity from his voice. “It was bat-shit crazy! Cullen-induced insanity.”

I laughed, despite myself.

There was a pause, before Jacob spoke again. I saw his expression had grown more serious and I felt my smile melt away, knowing what he was going to say.

“I know you don’t want to hear this,” he began, “but… well, I wasn’t kidding earlier when I said I don’t think it’s safe for you here. I really think that you should come back to Forks with me, when you’re better. It doesn’t feel right leaving you here with them.” I raised my eyebrow at him. “Okay, with him,” Jacob admitted.

I sighed. I didn’t want to be having this discussion again. Despite my evident distaste, Jacob continued.

“He doesn’t love you.”

“Thanks, Jake.”

“I’m sorry, but if he did he never would have left. He might think he does, but-”

“We aren’t having this discussion,” I said firmly. I couldn’t talk to Jacob about this, not when Edward was standing right outside the door.

“What, so you’re just going to take him back?” Jacob asked, hotly. His temper was building up again. “After everything he’s put you through, after all the damage he’s done?” He glared at me, a mixture of exasperation, concern and anger on his face.

I kept my mouth firmly shut. Just as I hadn’t commented on Jacob’s relationship with Carole earlier, I was not prepared to discuss what was happening between me and Edward with anyone but the man himself.

On realizing that he had hit a dead end, Jacob changed tactics at the speed of light.

“Come on Bella, come home to Forks. I know you miss it; you’ve said so enough times.” He shot me a persuasive look, which I resolutely ignored. This was a line of argument that was much more likely to wear me down, and we both knew it. I resisted, however, knowing that it was just a ruse- another ploy in Jacob’s master plan entitled, ‘Get Bella Away From Cullen’.

Jacob, however, seemed relentless in his dedication to said plan.

“Charlie would love to have you back home, and even if he didn’t then you’d be welcome to come and stay with us. You could crash on the couch or something- I’m sure Carole wouldn’t mind.” He looked at me, hopefully.

I rolled my eyes at him. Men. They really were clueless. “I’m sure Carole would mind,” I corrected him. “You’re married, she’s pregnant and you have twins due in June. No woman wants her husband’s ex-girlfriend coming to live in their sitting room, especially not one who has two humans growing inside her uterus.” Even Carole’s tolerance had a limit.

“Oh, yeah,” Jacob conceded. “Maybe that isn’t such a great idea.”

“Nope.”

“But like I said,” he resumed, not to be deterred, “Charlie would love to have you… or Seth! He’d love to see a bit more of you.” Here, Jacob waggled his eyebrows. I sighed, not amused.

“I’m not going to come back to Forks with you,” I said plainly. Jacob tried to object, but I cut him off. It was time to put a stop to this, once and for all.

“Look, Jacob,” I began firmly, “this is the last time I’m going to say this.” I was getting so bored of having this same discussion, both with him and Edward. “You have to let me look after myself. It’s my life and it’s up to me to decide what’s best for me. Not you, not Edward. I know you’re never going to trust Edward; I know you’ll always think that he’s dangerous and that he doesn’t deserve me. I accept that. But if you can’t trust him then you do at least have to trust me and my ability to look after myself.”

“Believe me when I say that I would never consciously put myself in danger. Have enough faith in me to make my own choices.” Despite what certain people thought, I was perfectly capable of deducing what was ‘for my own good’.

“You’re my friend,” I continued, “and if you really do care about me as much as you say you do, then it shouldn’t matter to you whether I leave Edward tomorrow, or whether I’m with him forever. It’s my choice. I need to know that you’ll stand by me, whatever I do. No ‘ifs’, no ‘buts’.”

I looked at Jacob levelly and he returned my gaze. Finally, he sighed, the muscles in his face loosened and I knew I’d won.

“Okay. Okay,” he said, in a beaten voice. “Fine. Do what you want. Just don’t expect me to be doing cartwheels if you take the leech back.”

“I won’t,” I sighed. I wasn’t stupid; I knew a line had to be drawn somewhere. Whatever happened in the future, Jacob and Edward would never be friends.

“So… you’re going to stay here,” Jake said, in a resigned voice. It was crystal clear he wasn’t happy with my choice, but he wasn’t going to challenge it, not after my speech.

“Yes.” At least for now. “I have things I need to discuss with Edward.” Who knows what I’ll want after that?

“What things?”

“You know I’m not going to answer that.”

Jacob shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”

I laughed again; I couldn’t help it. Jacob half grinned at me, getting to his feet. I wanted to stand up with him, but remembered at the last minute where I was. All the drama had almost distracted me from my injuries. I looked down at my bandaged arms, and ran a hand very gently over my torso. I winced, as I touched above one of my broken ribs. I noticed Jacob watching me. Not wanting him to think I was too weak for him to leave, I hastily asked:

“You’ll be okay?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

I made a face at him and he sighed. “Fine. Yes, I’ll be okay. I’ll call Carole and get an update on Brady… apologize for being such a shitty husband… then I guess I’d better arrange for a flight home.”

“I’ll pay some of your fare,” I said, immediately, “I feel bad that you spent all that money to come here.”

Jacob just waved his hand. “Don’t be stupid.” He leant down and kissed me carefully on the cheek. “See you later Bells,” he said, just managing to crack a sad sort-of smile, “I’ll come say ‘bye before I leave for the airport. Check Cullen hasn’t interpreted my absence as an opportunity to eat you.” I scowled at him and he laughed, “just kidding.” He rose again, moving towards the door.

“Keep me updated on Brady,” I said quickly. Now that the time for ‘goodbyes’ had come, I suddenly felt scared for him to leave. His going meant that I would have to confront Edward. Jacob just nodded, but carried on walking away.

“And Jake?” I called after him. He paused, his hand on the door handle, looking back at me over his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

I took a breath, “despite what I said… I was still glad that you came to see me… it meant a lot. Thank you.”

“Any time, Bells.”

And then he was gone, and I was alone again, with nothing left between me, Edward and the dreaded discussion I knew would have to come.


11 » Kommentera

Seducing Ms Swan: Kapitel 17

( << Kapitel 16 )

Chapter 17

Misguided ghosts
Traveling endlessly
The ones we trusted the most
Pushed us far away
And there’s no one road
We should not be the same
I’m just a ghost
And still they echo me
They echo me in circles


I don’t remember much about the day and night after I broke up with Edward. I know that I didn’t sleep well, despite being drained beyond measure. The little sleep I had was permeated with nightmares in which I found myself lost and trapped in a never-ending forest, searching for something I could not find. A voice called to me, begging for my attention, but no matter how hard I tried I could not find its owner.

On several occasions when I feverishly woke up from these dreams, I was struck by the strange conviction that somebody had just left my room. It was bizarre and unfounded- every time I saw the door to be firmly closed- but an idea that I couldn’t shake, all the same. I found it strangely comforting, despite the fact I had no doubts as to who my night-time visitor was. Just as I had secretly welcomed his cold calls to my apartment, it consoled me to know that, now, he still cared enough to sit by my side at night. I know that it was irrational and totally contradicted the way I’d acted. After all, I had pushed Edward away. I had rejected his apology. Surely I had revoked my right to his attention?

But the fact was, although I wasn’t ready to embrace Edward’s love, nor was I ready to lose it. It was selfish, stupid, immature… but it was the truth. And it was partly because of all these conflicted emotions that I couldn’t bear to stay in Rochester for one more moment.

If my life had been a movie, I would’ve ended that scene with Edward and stood up, left the hospital and gotten on the first plane to Seattle with Jacob We would have landed and found Brady alive and well. There would’ve been no waiting around and certainly no unhappy ending.

But of course, it wasn’t that simple. It never is, not in real life.

I didn’t speak to Edward again, despite spotting him on a number of occasions. As I got my strength back and was allowed to venture out of my room unaccompanied, I began to get glimpses of him: at the end of corridors; two flights of stairs below me in the stairwell; entering a lift I had vacated half a minute before. Always close enough to see but too far away to speak to. Every time this happened, I felt my heart skip a beat and my throat dry up in fear of him approaching me, but he never did.

The doctors point blank refused to let me leave the hospital until they were sure I was back to full health, and despite my best efforts, no amount of pleading would persuade them otherwise. In the end, Jacob flew back and I promised him that I would follow as soon as I could. But as the days ticked past, I began to wonder whether I’d ever be able to leave.

Having to stay behind was becoming excruciating; seeing Edward, but knowing all that stood between us, was nearly impossible to bear.

So I made myself a constant nuisance to the medical staff, continually pestering them in the hope that I would be discharged a few days earlier. The time I didn’t spend thinking about Edward, I passed by wondering about when I would be able to join Jacob. The longer I stayed, the more I felt a gnawing, unshakeable worry that my time was running out as far as Brady was concerned. If Jacob had been right- if the end really was as soon as he predicted- then I knew that I couldn’t afford to stay in Rochester much longer.

As my anxiety built, so did the mountain of get-well cards and bouquets filling my room. I had been shocked at how many people had remembered me; there was barely a foot of my room untouched by cellophane or flowers. Most of the gifts were from people at work, but there were two from ‘anonymous senders’- an enormous stuffed bear with a card saying “you still owe me a game of Mega Mutant Zombies IV, little sis” and a pair of pretty blue sneakers with the message ”because injured people can’t wear heels”. The overwhelming feeling of love and gratitude that these last two gifts brought almost reduced me to tears. Words couldn’t describe how touched I was that, despite everything with Edward, the Cullens were still supporting me.

Aside from Emmett and Alices’ gifts, the other highlights included a pretty bunch of tulips from Patrick Delaney’s wife, Katie, and a ridiculously ostentatious, slightly tacky, bouquet of eye-wateringly acid pink roses from none other than Adam ‘my-precocious-junior’ Carter and friends. I had actually laughed out loud on reading the card, which had contained a quote of one of Darcy’s lines from Pride and Prejudice. It was nice to see that they had retained something from the class, no matter how inappropriately they applied their knowledge.
School had, luckily, been very understanding about the accident. When I had rung in four days ago, they had granted me a month’s sick leave almost automatically. The generosity would have shocked me, had it not been for my sneaking suspicion that they were eager to get me out of the way. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but it had really only been a week and a half since my huge, public argument with Edward at the parent/teacher conferences. With everything that had happened since- the accident had been the evening afterwards- I had all but forgotten the way he had yelled at me in a room full of my colleagues and, more damningly, parents and students. It was no wonder that the school was eager to give me time off; they were delighted at the chance to let me lie low whilst the controversy and gossip died down.

I wasn’t complaining. The unexpected time off meant I could visit Forks without fear of being fired, but I still wondered whether perhaps I should start looking for a new job. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to shake the ‘reputation’ my scenes with Edward had earned me. And even if I did, what would I do if he and I became an item again? It was all very well asking him to drop out of school, but that wouldn’t get rid of the fact Edward had been a student. My student.

Part of me wondered whether that was the last time I’d ever be able to use the word ‘my’ in relation to him.

So the days passed. Interminably, painfully, yet pass they did. And then, a week and a half after the crash, it happened. The doctors finally agreed to let me go. It appeared that my injuries, painful as they had been to obtain, were in reality fairly minor. Once I was out of the ‘danger zone’ and of sufficient strength to walk around on my own, there wasn’t a lot the doctors could do for me.

“There’s no cure for broken ribs,” Carlisle had told me. It was the day before my release and he had stopped by my room to give me the news of the medical staff’s decision. “You just need plenty of good quality rest in order to give your body time to heal.”

We were sitting together on the chairs in my room. I had to exert a severe amount of control on myself in order to stop myself from jumping for joy at his words. It was morning and one of the nurses had drawn the blinds, filling the room with dull, cloud-strangled light.

“So that’s it? I can go?” I almost didn’t want to believe it- it seemed too good to be true.

Carlisle nodded, amused at my obvious delight. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you can go back to normal straight away. You need to rest. That means little physical activity, other than walking, and absolutely NO riding motorcycles.”

I shuddered at his words. He didn’t need to worry about that- I doubted I’d ever get on a bike again. There was one thing, however, that I really wanted to know. “Can I fly?”

He smiled slightly. “That would be an inadvisable thing to attempt even in full health, Bella.”

I rolled my eyes “You know what I mean.”

The smile faded and he looked at me seriously. “There’s no medical reason why you can’t board an aircraft, as long as you spend as much time sitting down as possible. I’d recommend getting a wheelchair to move through the terminal.”

I could sense a proviso in his tone. “But?”

Carlisle sighed. “But on a more personal level, I’m not sure whether speeding off to Forks the minute you’re discharged is the most sensible idea.”

He must have detected my skepticism on my face, because he hastened to continue. “I say this not as Edward’s father, Bella, but as your friend. What happens between you two is your business, and I’m not in the position to tell you what you can and can’t do. As a matter of fact, I think it’s better that you’ve given yourselves time apart to think and cool down. To use a cliché: Rome wasn’t built in a day. It would be ludicrous to expect everything to be perfect between you this soon after your fight. No, the reason I say this is because I’m not sure that you’re in the best state emotionally to go to Washington.” His eyes were full of concern as he said this. “You’ve been through so much in the past few weeks, and now you seem determined to subject yourself to some more heart-ache when you haven’t even recovered physically. I can’t help but wonder what the use of it all is, or what purpose it’ll serve in the long run. I’m worried about you.”

I didn’t know what to say. The love and concern in Carlisle’s voice had made it almost impossible for me to respond with anything even vaguely contradictory. I appreciated that he was worried about me. I could understand his reasons for it even. I had been through a lot recently; this was very soon after the accident to gallivant off to the other side of the country.

And yet there was a part of me which felt, as strongly as I had ever felt about anything, that Forks was where I needed to be now. I belonged there; as surely as my heart beat, I belonged there. I knew that whatever I was seeking- be it atonement, redemption or simply understanding of where my future was headed- could only be found in the small, sleepy town I had grown up in. If I was ever going to get over what happened to Brady, I had to see him. I had to.

But, I didn’t know how to explain this to Carlisle. I didn’t know how I could convey to him the depths of my guilt or the yearning I felt to somehow absolve it. He had heard a description of my feelings from Jasper, but no description could ever properly capture the sickening, wrenching sense of responsibility that plagued me at every turn. So I didn’t try.

“I know I’m making the right decision,” I said simply. “Thank you for being concerned; it means so much to me, really, but I can’t stay here. I have to go.” I hugged him, ignoring the way the movement caused my body to ache. “Thank you,” I repeated.

Carlisle looked at me, a look of resignation on his face. “I know I won’t be able to persuade you,” he said, finally, “but you should know, Bella, whatever you do, whatever happens in your life, you will always be a good person. You have a good heart. The only thing that remains is for you to believe it.” As he said this, he pressed something- an envelope- into my hand. “From Esme and me,” he said by way of explanation. “Think of it as a ‘get-well’ card.”

Not knowing how to reply, I simply nodded. And, after one last embrace, Carlisle left me alone. As the door shut, I found myself thinking over his words. You are a good person, he had said. But was I? How could I know?

I was still pondering this as I rose and moved slowly back to my bed. It was only when I was easing myself back onto the pillows that I remembered the card Carlisle had given me. Absentmindedly, I opened it.
It wasn’t a card at all.

It was a plane ticket. A return to Seattle.

And it had been paid for by a Mr. E. Cullen.

—–

It was raining when the plane touched down in Seattle; cold, icy rain which seemed to permeate the skin, freezing you to the bone. As I stood, shivering, outside the airport terminal, I wondered whether the weather was a bad omen.

After about half an hour, I saw an aging car pull up about ten feet away from where I stood, huddled under a shelter outside the arrivals bay. I looked over and spotted a familiar face.

”Embry,” I smiled, taking a quick step forward to greet him… and then flinching at the sudden pain in my ribs and remembering what Carlisle had said about movement.

Embry flashed an uncertain smile at me. He looked tired. There were circles under his eyes and he seemed smaller than usual and somewhat diminished, as though he had withdrawn into himself. I suppose grief does that to you. I thought to myself, grimly.

”Hello Bella,” he said quietly. ”How’s it going?” Did his voice sound different too? Or was I just imagining that- interpreting every slight inflection in the context of his sorrow?

Maybe his uncertainty was more a reaction to my appearance. I realized I must have looked a sight. My left arm was in a sling, supporting my now re-located shoulder and there were noticeable bruises on my uncovered skin and a long, deep scar peeking out of the hem of my sleeve on my right arm. I had burns on one of my cheeks and a small scar above my eyebrow. I didn’t blame Embry for being wary; I probably looked like I could collapse at any moment.

He walked forward to get my bag. Jacob had told me earlier on the phone that Embry had been delegated the task of collecting me from the airport, as he was ‘the only one besides me and Sam who doesn’t drive like a maniac’. It seemed that Embry was intent on carrying out this role as quickly as possible; he lifted my bag into the trunk with ease and slammed the door closed. He looked at me and I had the fleeting impression that he would have liked to physically place me in the car too, undoubtedly deciding that it would be quicker. I hastened towards the passenger door of his car, ignoring the pain it took to move, and let myself in.

By the time I had sat down, Embry was already in the driver’s seat. Pulling the door shut behind him, he turned the ignition and the car sputtered into life. Our eyes met momentarily in the rearview mirror as he pulled away.

”So,” he said, his eyes flicking away from mine and focusing on the car behind, ”how are you feeling?”

”Oh, you know,” I said shrugging, ”fine. It was nothing too serious.”

”Really?” Embry asked, turning his head to look at me, ”You sure? From what Jacob said it sounded like you were pretty messed up by that bike.”

I felt my face redden slightly. Somehow the idea of Jacob discussing my injuries with the rest of the pack made me feel ashamed- as though I had no right to be hurt when Brady’s condition was so serious in comparison. ”Jacob likes to exaggerate,” was all I said.

”I dunno,” Embry said, glancing over at me and looking me up and down ”you look pretty bad, if you don’t mind my saying.” His eyes flicked from the scar on my right arm to the sling on my left. “And you’ve got a couple of broken ribs, right?” I nodded and he let out a low whistle. ”That’s pretty hardcore, Bella. I’m impressed you got on a plane.” In those words I could feel some of the awkward stiffness that had gripped our initial meeting begin to melt away, replaced by the familiarity I was used to.

”I had to be here,” I replied. ”I couldn’t stay in Rochester.”

Embry nodded. ”True.”

We continued in silence for a few moments as he turned off the slip-road onto the highway that would take us to Forks. The only sounds were that of the rain against his windscreen and the hiss of the spray from the cars zooming past us.

”How is he?” I finally said. I was anxious as I said it, my heart rate speeding up a notch.

Embry didn’t look at me this time; he kept his eyes fixed on the road. ”No different. Still comatose; still unreceptive; still unlikely to recover.”

My stomach dropped. It was stupid; it’s not like I expected the response to be positive. ”I’m sorry,” I said.

Embry’s brow furrowed. ”Why are you apologizing?”

The question confused me. ”Because of what you must all be going through,” I said, ”it must be so hard-”

Embry shook his head. ”Bella, what we’re going through is the same thing as you. It’s just as bad for you as it is us. There’s no need to apologize to anybody; we all know that you’re just as cut up about this as any of the pack. I mean, you broke out of hospital just to be here.” He flashed another half smile at me, his brown eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “That’s dedication.”

I couldn’t conjure the strength within me to smile back. I was worried that my lips would tremble, giving my emotional weakness away. Embry must have recognized this, for his grin faded, replaced with an expression that was somewhere between worried and frustrated.

“I’m telling you, Bella, you need to stop thinking this was your fault.” He spoke with an emphatic tone that was uncharacteristic- Embry was usually the quiet, understanding one. It was more like Quil or Paul to make assertive statements. “Nobody blames you; everybody understands how bad you feel about what happened. Your guilt isn’t going to make it better. Do you understand that?”

”Yeah,” I lied. It was easier than contradicting him.

Embry muttered something under his breath and I knew he was unconvinced. I pretended I hadn’t heard him. I looked down at my feet. I could feel Embry’s eyes flicking to my face- feel his unspoken words hanging between us in the confined space of the car, expanding like small yet suffocating bubbles. I suddenly became very aware of how loud our silence was, punctuated by the sound of our breathing, the wipers and the rain hammering down on the windscreen outside.

After a couple of minutes, Embry let out a low frustrated sigh. He stabbed his fist at the controls on his radio, and music filled the car. He hummed along quietly as we drove, and I was left to wonder whether I’d ever see myself as everybody else did- guiltless.

—–

It was about five thirty by the time we pulled up at Forks Hospital. Embry hadn’t suggested stopping by Charlie’s house first, and I hadn’t prompted him. I wanted to see Brady. I couldn’t think of anything else. I was sure, somehow, that seeing him would make anything better. Afterwards, I would wonder how on earth I could have been so naive, because it didn’t make anything better- not a single thing. Once I had greeted the other members of the pack and followed Jacob into the ward, I realized how stupid I’d been. How could I have thought that a plane flight would solve all my problems? How could I have secretly hoped, deep down, that coming home would somehow provide a miracle cure? The sight of Brady lying in the bed, comatose and inert, practically corpse-like in his pale thinness rid me of all the illusions I had tried so hard to believe in. They shattered like glass around me as I tried my very best not to cry.

And I knew, in that moment, that there was no way out this time. There would be nobody to come in and save the day; nobody to fight off the enemy or slam into it, knocking it off course because unlike a vampire or a speeding truck, this adversary was truly unstoppable.

I couldn’t bear it; I couldn’t function.

But I had to. Maybe, in a way, this was my punishment.

Because no matter what anybody said or did, one fact remained; death was coming for Brady.

—–

In the end, I guess you could say it was ironic, really, the way it actually happened.

—–

It was four weeks after I arrived in Forks, as February had just begun to thaw into March, and I was standing in the bakery aisle of Thriftway. I was with Carole, whose stomach had begun to noticeably swell. We’d gone out to the store in order to grab some provisions for the pack (or ‘boys’ as she endearingly referred to them) who were all still taking turns to stand vigil by Brady’s bedside. As we threw enough food to feed an entire football team for two weeks- but would, in reality, only last the pack a couple of days- into our carts, I was suggesting names to Carole.

“Abby?”

“My aunt’s called Abby,” she replied. “Don’t like her.” She grimaced and I laughed. There was something about this woman; even when it seemed like everything in the world was going wrong, she could make me smile. I continually marveled at how Jacob had managed to find such a perfect match for him; they were both sunnier than Arizona in August.

“Rachel?”

Carole shook her head. “We can’t have two Rachels in the family, it’ll get confusing. How about Emily?”

I wrinkled my nose, instantly reminded of Emily DeMarco from my 12th grade english class- the same Emily who had interrupted my ‘moment’ with Edward all those weeks ago. I couldn’t use that as an excuse, however, so I hastily found another. “You see Emily Uley just as much as Rachel,” I reminded her, “so it’d be equally confusing.”

“Yeah, but I like Emily Uley,” Carole quipped. I gasped in mock horror and she giggled. “You know I’m joking. I love my sisters-in-law.” She motioned at the loaves of bread to my left. I leaned over, grabbing four, pleased at the way I didn’t feel any pain.

By that time I had, for the best part, recovered from my injuries, save for the occasional twinge from my ribs and pain in my arm. The sling was becoming more of a habit than a necessity and although my bruises had yet to completely fade and I still had to regularly apply ointment to my burns, there was nothing particularly the matter with me. I was well enough, at least, for Jacob to have no qualms about letting me go out on errands with his pregnant wife.

“How about John, if one of them is a boy?” Carole suggested, as we turned onto the soft drinks aisle.

I considered the name. “I like John,” I nodded, reaching out to pick up a bottle of Cola. “It’s, you know, classic. Can’t go wrong with John.”

“You think? You don’t think it’s too ‘aging-academic-with-a-widening-middle-spread’?”

I snorted, almost choking on my gum. Carole started to giggle too, and pretty soon the aisle was full of the sound of our laughter.

And then, all of a sudden, Carole’s phone rang and everything changed.

I immediately froze, my hand suspended in mid air, holding the bottle by the neck. I watched, barely breathing, as Carole immediately darted for her bag, producing her cell phone in a matter of seconds.

“Hello?” she said, breathlessly. The expression on her face was suddenly worried, the ghost of our shared hilarity quickly dying from her eyes.

The condensation from the Cola bottle in my hand was dripping in rivulets over my palm, but I ignored it, all my attention focused on Carole’s face, waiting for the sign that would tell me the news. The atmosphere around us had suddenly changed completely. Gone was the easy humor, gone the comfortable friendliness. They had been replaced by cold, sharp dread.

Ever since I had gotten to Forks the ritual had been the same. Anytime that I wasn’t at the hospital, no matter where I was or who I happened to be with at the time, the sound of a phone ringing would spark the same reaction. Time would stop and everyone would pause, waiting for whoever had answered the call to shake his head or offer some signal that told us ‘no, not this time’. It had gotten to the point where none of us could even hear a phone ring without feeling physically sick. I doubted I would ever forget how Paul had threatened to murder the unfortunate telesales guy who had called three days before, beginning his pitch with the ill-fated words: ‘bad news… you could be paying too much for your insurance!’. The threat of it being that moment was ever-present and despite brief respites of amusement like the one Carole and I had just enjoyed, we were almost always on our guard.

So I stood in silence in the aisle, waiting for Carole to signal that it was just another false alarm. I convinced myself that the reassurance would come, that it had to, and tried to ignore the feeling of hysteria I felt rising in my throat. In an attempt to act calm, I began shakily loading bottles into the cart in front of me.

But then I heard her curse.

And, just like that, all my pretences crumbled into dust.

I heard Carole promise that we’d be there right away. I heard the beep as she closed the phone and the sound of her voice trembling as she spoke to me.

“Bella,” she began. And it was then, as I looked into her green eyes that were brimming with apprehension and emotion that I knew. I knew that this wasn’t just another false alarm.

I felt the Cola fall from my hands, crashing onto the floor and exploding in a fizzy jet all over the floor, but the noise of it fizzing and bubbling wasn’t enough to block out Carole’s words- her verdict.

“It’s Brady, Bella. He’s… dead.”

—–

Like I said, ironic.

I’d been terrified that, when Brady died, I would be on the other side of the country, trapped inside a hospital bed.

And then it quietly happened on a mild, unassuming afternoon while I was ten miles away buying Coca Cola.

—–

Later, they would tell me he hadn’t felt any pain. Jacob would assure us, through tear-filled eyes that Brady had passed quietly and gently, simply fading away. There was grief- of course there was- but, astonishingly to me, the pack seemed to agree that it was the best thing that could have happened; that it provided closure and freedom and that Brady was in a better place. They consoled each other through their sorrow, crying and embracing as though contact could help expel the poison. There was even a hint of a smile on some of their lips. He’s free now; he can’t be hurt anymore. Everybody seemed to agree that things could only improve from here.

Everybody but me

I didn’t feel free. I didn’t feel anything, but guilt and pain and sorrow. It wasn’t until past midnight, when the cleaners practically threw me out of the ward, that I made it home to Charlie’s house, where I found my father sitting in the living room, bleary eyes fixed on some old re-run sitcom on TV. When I entered he looked up at me and started to his feet.

”Bella…”

I didn’t reply.

”I heard the news. Billy called.”

Again no reply.

”You okay?”

I shook my head, unable to find my voice. I was shaking, my throat tight, and tears were already creeping from my eyes, blurring my vision.

”Oh, Bells.” Charlie crossed the room at took me in his arms. ”Oh, honey, it’ll be okay.”

And then he said the words which I had been dreading. ”At least he’s at peace now.”

I felt my heart crack, and I began to cry in earnest.

Because something inside of me couldn’t help but respond: ‘But what about me?’

Brady might have been at peace, but I, Bella Swan, most definitely was not. I had come to Forks seeking some kind of redemption, yet all it had given me was more sorrow.

I was haunted by ghosts, called to by unexplained voices, tormented by echoes. I wanted an escape; I wanted out.

Outside, on the breath of the wind, I heard a wolf howl.

[Nästa Kapitel]


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Jag kommer i framtiden köpa in skor och sälja målade, men än så länge finns möjligheten att:

Skicka in valfri sko till mig, så målar jag dem åt er!

Tänk på att skon måste vara ren! Så släng skorna i maskinen, ifall de är använda, o lite smutsiga.


Priser:
Priset för målade skor är 500:- för färgen och arbetet, och 100:- i frakt och emballage.

Skicka in skor:

Vira in dem i en plastpåse, tejpa ordentligt runt om, klistra på min adress, och rätt antal frimärken, så blir frakten billigare. Runt 50-60kr.

Frakten tillbaka kostar lite mer för mig, eftersom jag
emballerar dem bättre, så inte färgerna skadas under transporten tillbaka hem.

Hållbarhet:
Färgerna jag använder är acrylfärger, eftersom de är vattenfasta och väldigt hållbara.

Jag har ett par converse som jag målat dinosaurier på, och de var ett par ”testskor”. Med dem har jag gjort allt det man inte borde göra med målade skor, hoppat i pölar, trampat i lera, mm, och torkat av dem med en fuktig trasa, och de blir som nya igen. Jag har använt dem varje dag i 4 månader och färgen har inte spruckit!

Det enda jag kan tänka mig som kan påverka skorna ordentligt är kraftig kyla. Färgen är vattenfast och den är så hållbar och spricker inte för att den är lite gummiaktig och följer med fotens och skons rörelse, och är det mycket minusgrader ute så stelnar färgen helt och kan spricka.

Maila mig ifall ni är intresserade, så berättar jag vidare om hur vi går tillväga!

twistuff@thetwilightsaga.se

Eller fyll i detta formulär:

Ditt namn (obligatoriskt)

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Ämne

Ditt meddelande

Twilightmotiv är inte tvunget… ni kan få skorna målade hur ni vill!

MVH

Kinga Dukaj, Designanasvarig på thetwilightsaga.se


Team Edward keps


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Seducing Ms Swan: Kapitel 18

[<<< kapitel 17]

Chapter 18

Presence fights illusion
It’s not all as serious as your mind
Want you to think it is
Unsure of your future
Need to focus on what you want
And something will come your way
All of a sudden the negative voices and weaknesses all fade away
You visit a place in a timeless
dimension where all of your fears are at bay


Charlie didn’t come to the funeral. There was no reason for him to. He had never even met Brady; all he knew of him was from my accounts. As far as Charlie knew, Brady had just been a kid friend of Jacob’s who had tragically developed schizophrenia in his late teens. As ever, he was totally oblivious to the true story. So I had to go alone; or, at least, as alone as you could be when surrounded by a room of people – which I had long since discovered was the worst kind of solitude.

I was sitting in the living room of Carole and Jacobs’ house. It was a Tuesday, the day of the funeral. I was wearing a scratchy black turtle neck that belonged to Carole and was too long in the arms. I kept pulling the sleeves over my fingertips, bunching them up in my hands in an absent-minded, almost protective gesture as I tried to fade into the background. There were a lot of people in the room around me, despite its small size. They were mostly tribe members, milling around, greeting each other, commiserating in shared sorrow. The funeral hadn’t actually taken place yet- this was simply a gathering beforehand, a way to mentally prepare for what was to come. I couldn’t see Jacob anywhere, and I assumed he must have been with the pack. Without him I felt lost and out of place, like an outsider intruding onto grief she had no right to share. Attempting to hide, I had taken a seat in the very corner of the room.

Yet somehow I couldn’t stop myself from watching the people in the room. I knew a handful of the faces from past La Push celebrations. There was an old lady sitting in an armchair by the window who I knew was on the tribal council, and the man by the fireplace was Jared’s father. My gaze passed quickly over them both, unwilling as I was to have to make any sort of conversation. I saw a girl by the door that I recognized from cookouts to be a distant cousin of Jacob’s. She was talking to an old man, her hand resting sympathetically on his shoulder. I looked at his face, trying to work out who he was. Then he glanced over and for a split second our eyes met. A shard of pain went through my heart and I immediately wished I hadn’t looked at him. The features on his face were unmistakeably Brady’s- his grandfather or great-uncle, perhaps. I looked away, the shame burning across my cheeks. I wondered if he knew who I was and whether he could possibly hate me as much as I did myself.

My face grew hot as I felt blood rush to my temples. I didn’t want to be here anymore; I wasn’t sure why I had even come. I didn’t deserve to be in this room with good, innocent people who had loved Brady when his blood was effectively on my hands. I had a sudden flashback to that moment where I had cut myself on the fence on the Cullens’ snow-covered patio, my hands dripping blood onto the otherwise pure white ground. Just as I had polluted the pureness of the snow then, my guilt was sullying the room now. I had to leave. I began to get to my feet, quickly attempting to ascertain which exit route would best let me avoid making conversation with anybody.

Before I could move at all, however, I heard someone to my right clear their throat loudly. I looked around to see who it was. Billy Black, Jacob’s father, was sitting just feet away from me in his chair. I hadn’t noticed him wheel over, yet it was clear from his expression that he had been watching me the whole time. I felt my cheeks burn even redder.

”Hello Bella,” he greeted me.

”Oh, hey, Billy,” I said distractedly, glancing at the door. ”I was actually just about to go out and get some fresh air,” I lied, hoping I could still slip away.

”I want to talk to you,” Billy stated simply, paying no attention to the obvious hint in my words. He had a look on his face which, somehow, reminded me of Charlie. It was a look which meant he had something to say, and no matter of deflection would dissuade him from passing it on.

Knowing I was defeated, I sank back into my chair. Billy stared at me. ”How are you, Bella?” he suddenly asked. I looked at him in confusion. That was it? He’d told me to stay so he could ask me how I was?

“I’m… fine,” I replied. Internally, I wondered how old I’d have to be before I stopped using that word to describe how I felt. It was so very rarely close to the truth.

Billy sighed. ”Of course you are.” He seemed sad as he said it, and something in his tone of voice made my heart ache. But then, without warning, his expression sharpened. ”Don’t insult me, Bella. If you’re going to lie, then at least try and find a more convincing adjective than ‘fine’.”

I didn’t know what to say. ”I’m sorry.”

”Don’t apologize, for goodness’ sake,” Billy exhaled in frustration. ”The last thing anybody wants to hear is you say ‘sorry’ for the thousandth time.” I just stared at him, nonplussed. Billy drummed his fingers briefly against the arm of his wheelchair, then said matter of factly: ”Look, Bella, it’s about time somebody older and wiser decided to talk some sense into you. I know Charlie can’t do it because he doesn’t know half the story, and seeing as I’m the closest thing you have to a father apart from him, the responsibility of convincing you to see reason falls to me.”

See reason? ”What do you mean?”

”This whole situation with Brady,” Billy waved his hand vaguely, encompassing the entire room, ”And the fact that you believe it was your fault. The way you feel the need to apologize every five seconds for his death, how you can barely look anybody in the eyes anymore, and that when you do, you act like you don’t deserve to even look at them. And it’s so wrong, because you aren’t guilty and the only person who blames you is yourself.” He looked intently at me as he finished, waiting for my reply.

I felt as though all the breath had been knocked out of my lungs at his words. It had been the last thing I’d been expecting. Forcing myself to speak, I said in a half-whisper: ”No disrespect, Billy, but I really don’t want to talk about this right now.” I was hyper-aware of the presence of all the other people in the room. It didn’t seem right to be discussing the details of Brady’s illness and death when we were surrounded by his mourners. Besides, it was too much; I couldn’t bear being chastised or told off when I was feeling so emotionally weak. I knew Billy meant well, but right now it was taking all of my willpower just to hold myself together. I doubted I could stand being told off on top of everything else.

”Then when will we talk about it, Bella?” Billy asked me. ”When are you going to stop feeling guilty long enough to realize that what happened to Brady was not your fault? It was a vampire that tortured him to insanity and he died from a heart attack. Neither of those things were under your control. You aren’t to blame, and the sooner you understand that, the better. I’m worried about you. We all are- Jacob, Charlie, the rest of the pack. Even…” he paused, as though the words were costing him a great effort, ”I’d even hazard a guess that the coven is concerned about you, much as I hate to admit it. We love you Bella. We don’t want to see someone we love falling to pieces.”

I met his gaze, and the honesty there caused tears to prick at the corners of my eyes, forcing me to look away. I knew he was telling the truth; I knew just how much I was loved and cared for. Wherever I went, it seemed that I had people who were willing to protect and stand by me. To die for me. I was so lucky. But the knowledge of this fact didn’t make me feel any better – it just made things worse, because I simply did not deserve it. I couldn’t say this to Billy, because he would never agree with me. So I just sat in silence, forcing myself not to cry.

There was a silence between us, then. Maybe Billy had said all he wanted to say, or perhaps he was waiting for me to make the next move. Whatever the reason, he didn’t speak again for several minutes. I sat quietly, withdrawn deep into myself, the hum of the other conversations in the room washing over me.

Then Billy spoke again, his clear voice cutting through my reverie.

“Has Jacob ever told you about the day his mother died?”

I did a double take, spinning around to stare at Billy in disbelief. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. He looked at me calmly and there was nothing in his expression to reflect what he had just said. From the conversational tone of his question, he could just have easily had asked me about a fishing trip as the death of his wife. I wondered wildly whether perhaps I had misheard him, but after a couple of seconds I decided that there was no way I could have imagined what he had said. I wasn’t that creative.

“Um, a few times,” I said tentatively. In truth, I could only remember Jacob making a few isolated passing comments about his mom’s death in the years that we had been friends. Jacob didn’t like to talk about it much. Most of what I knew about the car crash, I had heard from Charlie.

“What did he tell you?” Billy pressed me. He seemed to be unaware of my awkwardness, or else it simply didn’t bother him. I couldn’t understand why he had suddenly switched to this topic, but I didn’t feel that I could move him away from it. Who was I to prevent Billy talking about his dead wife?

That said, the weirdness of the situation was not lost on me, and the uncertainty I felt was clear in my response. “She, uh, died in a car crash,” I replied slowly, not wanting to upset Billy by reliving details he’d rather forget. However he didn’t seem to be affected.

“What else?” he asked intently.

“Jake was eight at the time,” I continued. “His Mom… uh, I mean, Sarah, was driving home from the grocery store and she got hit by some kid at a junction who couldn’t see her through the rain,” I said it almost apologetically, unsure of how Billy would react. I had heard this story from Charlie again and again in my youth; it had been part of his regular lecture on road safety and sensible driving. I had heard it from Jacob far fewer times, but his retellings had had far greater an impact on me. He had included details which Charlie had never known, such as the fact that one of the main reasons he had wanted to become a mechanic was that he wanted to find a way to make cars safer so nobody would ever have to lose their mom like he had his. But I didn’t say that to Billy. I had a feeling he probably already knew; his relationship with Jake was far better than mine had ever been with Charlie.

“Did he say anything else?” Billy asked me. “Did he mention me at all?”

I shook my head, unsure where he was going with this. Around us, the buzz of conversation continued, our discussion going unnoticed.

Billy had a wry smile on his face. “That boy thinks far too highly of me,” he sighed and for a second I caught a glimpse of the sorrow I had been expecting from the moment he had first brought Sarah up. It was gone in a few seconds, though, as Billy took a deep breath and begun what I assumed would be his explanation.

“The night my wife was killed, we’d squabbled,” he told me. “I’d just got driven back from a council meeting- it was before I’d got stuck in this thing,” he pointed at the wheelchair, “and I’d come home to find that there was barely anything to eat. Sarah had asked me to go to the store in the morning whilst she’d been taking the kids to school, but I’d forgotten. We’d just had our TV fixed and there was a Mariner’s game on…” he shrugged at me, as if to say ‘you know how it is’.

As a matter of fact, I did know. I couldn’t count the number of times I had asked Charlie to run an errand, only to later find he had watched baseball instead.

“Anyway,” Billy continued, “Understandably, Sarah was frustrated that I hadn’t done what I’d promised. She asked me to go out and fetch some food but…” he paused, wincing at a memory that was clearly painful, “I told her I was tired.” The self-scorn was evident in his voice. “I told her we could order pizza- that it’d do her good not to cook one night.” He shook his head, looking at me sadly. “I was just finding excuses. The council meeting had dragged on much longer than usual and my head hurt. I didn’t want to drive to the store in the dark and rain. All I wanted to do was relax on the coach, watch some baseball and then go to sleep. So when Sarah sighed that ‘no, we can’t give the kids pizza on a weekday- we’re trying to teach them to eat proper food, Billy’ and said that she’d have to go and get the groceries, I didn’t argue with her. I didn’t jump up and admit that I’d been wrong or offer to go instead, even though I knew that was what she was expecting me to do. I guess in a way I was kind of embarrassed about forgetting, so I was trying to down-play the whole thing in an attempt to clear my conscience. I just sat watching the television, pretending not to hear when Sarah sighed exasperatedly and stalked into the kitchen to get her purse. I barely even looked up when she came back into the living room and kissed me on the cheek goodbye. That was exactly like Sarah,” Billy said, his eyes wistful with memory, ”she could never be mad at anybody for more than a few seconds. Her heart was too good; there was no way any bitterness could exist there.”

He paused for a few seconds, taken with recollection. The sadness was etched across his face now, the faintest sheen of tears covering his eyes. I wasn’t aware of anyone around us anymore- just Billy, my second father, and the story of his sorrow. “I suppose you can guess what happened next, Bella,” he said. “That… that was the last time I saw her… the last time I saw her…” he trailed off, unable to continue. I leant forwards, taking hold of his hand.

“I’m so sorry Billy,” I murmured. What else could I say? No words would be able to bring Sarah back, no matter how much I wanted them to. Billy took my hands in his own, gripping them tightly as he breathed deeply. After a moment or two, he seemed to have calmed himself to the point where he could speak normally again.

“You know the worst part?” he said finally, “I never had the chance to tell her I was sorry. I never got to apologize for being lazy and selfish, or tell her that I loved her.”

“I’m sure she knew.”

“Oh, she did,” he agreed, ”but I should have said it all the same. I shouldn’t have ever let her leave before I had made things up with her. I should have held her and told her how much she meant to me, before letting her go. I was so stupid, so foolish and arrogant. I didn’t think anything bad could ever happen to us. I just took the fact that she’d come home for granted.” An expression of scorn and self-loathing surged across his face, flaring up… and then fading away again. It looked as though Billy was making a conscious effort to control his emotions.

After a few moments he looked at me again. “Do you want to know why I’m telling you this, Bella? Why I’m bringing it up here of all places?” He shook his head and the tiny movement resonated with regret. “For a long time, the guilt of what I did that night ate me alive. What if I’d gone and got the groceries when Sarah asked me to, instead of putting it off? What if I’d offered to go instead of her in the evening? What if I hadn’t gotten the TV fixed? What if I hadn’t liked goddamn baseball so much? The ‘what ifs’ alone are enough to drive a person crazy. For years, I blamed myself for what had happened to Sarah. As far as I saw it, I’d lost my soul mate and it had been all my fault. You know what happened to the kid who hit her?”

This question was directed at me, and I shook my head. Jacob had never said.

“He was paralyzed from the waist down,” Billy said, his eyes tight. “It was awful. Whatever people say, it wasn’t his fault. I never blamed him for what happened. You know what driving conditions can be like around here, especially when it rains. The boy had only had his licence a couple of weeks, and all of a sudden there he was- unable to walk and being blamed for the death of a much loved wife, mother and friend. You know, later on when I lost the use of my legs from disease, part of me thought it was a type of retribution. I was being punished for not being in the car with Sarah and my penalty was to suffer the injuries I would have gotten if I’d gone with her.”

He paused for a moment or two, lost in recollection, before he continued.

“Like I said, Bella, the guilt was awful. It never truly went away, just slowly faded into the back of my mind. But then do you know what happened? I gradually began to realize something very important. I realized that my three children- my three beautiful, wonderful kids who, by all rights, should have hated me for losing their mother- didn’t blame me at all for her death. Not one bit. They didn’t think I was guilty; they didn’t stop loving me in the slightest. They missed their mother terribly, but to them her death was just an accident- an awful, tragic accident. If anything, they blamed the poor teenager in the other car. They didn’t hate their dad for living- they were just glad that they had me. That they still had at least one parent left to help them overcome their grief.

“It was their love which helped me finally see sense, Bella. It made me understand that I didn’t cause the accident that day, nor did I kill Sarah. Maybe I could have done something to prevent it; maybe I couldn’t have. But I didn’t make it rain, or make the other car swerve, or make the surface of the road Sarah was driving on uneven. Those things were like a series of factors which aligned to create one awful result. And even if it had been my fault, there was no way that I could reverse what had happened. I could hate myself for the rest of my life, but it wouldn’t give Sarah life again; no amount of guilt would ever bring her back. I had to live for our children- mine and Sarah’s children. I had to carry on and give Rebecca, Rachel and Jacob the best life possible even now that their mother was gone. I came to realize that Sarah never would have wanted me to ruin their futures by letting my grief define our lives. In the end, as hard as it was, I had to let go; I had to move on.”

It was only when Billy handed me a tissue that I realized I had been crying. I took it gratefully, wiping my tears hurriedly from my cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I feel so silly.” Here Billy was bravely sharing the most awful moments of his life with me, and I was the one crying.

Billy waved his hand at me. “Don’t apologize,” he said, “what I’m telling you is hardly a fairy-tale. It’s normal to feel emotion, but you need to understand that there’s hope in this story too, Bella. That’s the reason I’m telling you all of this. I want you to understand that what happened to Brady wasn’t your fault. Those who are truly guilty never feel the consequences of their actions; often it’s only the innocent that are brave enough to shoulder blame. You can’t spend the rest of your life hating yourself for what happened. Brady loved you like a sister – all the pack does – and he wanted you to have a chance at life. He didn’t want you to die at the fangs of a creature from a world that you shouldn’t have even been a part of.

”Part of growing up is learning to accept that you can’t change the past and that you can’t hold yourself responsible for everything life throws at you. It’s so easy to over-simplify things and believe that everything is your fault. But nothing’s black or white. There really are shades of grey. Until you realize that, you won’t be able to heal.

”It didn’t work with Sarah and it won’t work with Brady either. You need to learn to let the guilt go and try to move on. It’s time you appreciated the value of forgiveness, Bella.”

I stared at Billy, at a total loss for words. I didn’t have a clue how to respond; I was too overcome by what he had just said. There was so much sense in his words, yet I was almost afraid of believing them. I had been sure of my guilt for so long; how could I just let it go? I was almost buried too deep now to ever fight my way to the surface again.

Then, just as I was about to formulate some kind of reply to Billy’s declaration, a voice called out:

“It’s time, everybody.”

The movement in the room was instantaneous. All the people in Jacob’s living room who I’d stopped paying attention to during Billy’s story began to move en masse in one great black flock towards the door. I caught Billy’s eyes in the sudden blur of activity and they seemed to speak to me. Let the guilt go, Bella.

And then the moment was broken and Billy had been wheeled away by some well wisher in black. I found myself being helped to my feet by another faceless person and being carried with the crowd across the room and out of the door into the cold evening air.

Next thing I knew I was stumbling down the sandy track that led towards the beach, the person supporting my arm gone, my mind still saturated with all that Billy had said. I barely noticed the people around me; I paid no attention to their low murmurs or the soft sound of their footsteps on sand…

What happened to Brady wasn’t your fault.

Somebody spoke to me, and I wasn’t even aware of how I replied. I couldn’t register anything outside of my own head, the memories of Billy’s words almost deafening me…

Nothing’s black or white; there really are shades of gray.

Vaguely, I sensed the breeze growing stronger. I wondered dimly whether we were nearing the beach…

Stop blaming yourself

Then, the murmurs around me fell away, enabling me to catch a last whispered order in my head before it died away…

Let him go, Bella. Let Brady go.

The power of the words shook me like an explosion, but as I looked around me, I realized there was no time to think about what they meant.

We had arrived on the beach.

The funeral had begun.

……………………

It’s a cold evening in late winter, and you’re assembled with the tribe on the beach at La Push, the twilight-washed sea ahead and the darkening woods behind. Your long hair is stirring slightly in the breeze, and you can taste the salt from the sea on the air, mingled with wood smoke. A great bonfire lies to the left of the crowd and you watch it as you wait, noting the way the flames reach up to the purpling sky, their orange tips dissolving into curls of sparks and smoke, before drifting away into stratosphere, fading into nothing.

Tonight is a time of farewells.

Suddenly, you sense movement in the crowd around you. A ripple passes through the group as heads and bodies turn as one, hundreds of pairs of eyes focusing on a single point in the East- the direction you are facing. You crane your neck to see, and instantly find what you’re looking for. A procession is making its way from behind the bonfire; nine people, each bearing a torch, walk slowly towards the centre of the crowd, winding their way through the silent mourners. They’re all tall- almost impossibly so- their black hair and russet red skin taking an unearthly, almost godlike quality in the dying daylight. They walk slowly in a line, hands clasped around their torches as though they are lifelines; as though the burning wood, cotton and gas are the only things which will keep them from drowning in the grief which hangs thickly in the air. You catch the eyes of the leader of the group-your best friend- and it takes all your strength not to look away, so intense is his pain.

On the sand some yards from the water’s edge is a canoe, atop which is the body. It scares you somewhat to think of it as a ‘body’, because barely days ago it was a ‘he’ and he was a living, breathing person, but then you remind yourself that ‘living’ is the wrong word, that he had not been living for years. He had existed. In truth, his mind had passed a long time ago; it was only now that his body followed suit. You keep this present in your mind as the torch-bearers close in on the canoe and, one by one, set it alight.

They act quickly then; each, taking hold of a section of the craft and pushing it swiftly into the water. The momentum causes it to cut swiftly through the gentle waves, but not before the flames have started to lick across the body, growing in number, building in strength. Their reflection dances in the water and for an instant, the night is completely still.

This is the moment of release, the split second when the boundaries between life and death blur, and another spirit passes on.

And then it’s over; the spell is broken. The blood-red sun dips beneath the horizon, and you become aware of the soft sigh of the forest and the crackling of the bonfire behind you.

His soul is gone.

And it’s only then, as you look to the sky embedded with slowly blossoming stars that it happens. That slowly, incredibly, wondrously, you begin to feel a weight shift from your shoulders.

It wasn’t your fault, Bella

Something within you is changing; you can feel something unfurling inside your heart. It’s as though your body knows- as though your head is finally about to accept something your soul has been telling it for so long. You hear that voice again. It’s the same one from the hospital- the same one that haunted you while you crumbled to pieces in Charlie’s arms. It calls to you, begging to be heard, and this time you can actually make out what it says. It tells you that you’re innocent; that you’re good; that it’s time to let go.

It wasn’t your fault.

And it’s then that you realizes,the voice doesn’t belong to Carlisle, or Billy, or even Brady. It’s your own. It’s you- your own conscience pleading with you to see reason and sense. It’s been there all along, but only now do you listen, only now do you realize.

Part of growing up is learning to accept that you can’t change the past

The chains are crumbling apart, the bars of the cage dissolving to dust. The wall which you had built across the path to your future has cracked, and the light from the other side is streaming through, almost blinding you. You want to cry out with the joy of it.

His soul has gone; and with it, your guilt.

You have been set free.

Life continues as before; the earth continues to turn. Yet something has changed, imperceptible to all but you. The blame and guilt you’ve trapped yourself in for so long has disappeared; your sins have been absolved. You realize where the forgiveness you have always wanted was hidden- in the prison of your own heart.

The funeral vessel begins to be swallowed by the gathering dark and the crowd around you starts to turn away. Their words merge into subtle hums of reminiscence, harmonizing with the hushed song of the sea and reverent whisper of the trees.

You don’t move at first, preferring instead to watch the burning canoe as it slips slowly into the shadows, like a long-harbored memory of a nightmare which you’ve only just managed to let go. It’s hard to believe that this moment is finally here, after six years of knowing, deep down, that it was on its way. And you can’t stop some tears from falling, as you think of all the things that were lost in those six years; love, innocence, trust, hope…

And yet, some things were preserved. Friendship. Bravery. Those years taught you more about yourself than the rest of your life; the difficulties of those days, weeks and months are as much a part of you as the new scars and burns that mar your skin. They remind you of what it took to get where you are now,of what was lost and what was gained, of what has yet to be re-established. You look to the sky, marvelling at the brightness of the stars as, one by one, they unfurl like flowers on a bed of ebony.

And, inevitably, your thoughts drift to him. The one who broke the heart; the one you still love with all your being. You haven’t seen him for a month, not since you told him to leave at the hospital and then hastened to put thousands of miles between you.

But now everything has changed. The weight from your chest has melted away, your eyes see thing differently and even your heartbeat seems to have changed its rhythm. And you begin to wonder whether it’s time to go back; whether it’s time to confront everything… and begin to move forward.

You turn back on the sea, facing towards the beach and close your eyes. The cool breeze curls around you, its wintry tendrils caressing your skin like a familiar, much longed for embrace. And it’s then, in that moment, that you know the answer to your question. No more running. No more fear.

As you leave the beach, the wind whispers with a promise of something akin to hope.


I turned around and followed the last stragglers from the beach back up the path to La Push. The lights were on in Jacob and Carole’s house. There was music coming from inside and I could hear laughter and the clinking of cutlery on china. I remembered the conversation between Carole and Emily where they had decided to make the evening after Brady’s funeral as happy and positive as possible.

“It’s the best way to say goodbye,” Emily had maintained, her kind eyes shining with determination, “that way we can remember him when he was happy, not empty and bed bound.” Carole had agreed, adding that it would be easiest for ‘the boys’ that way.

I felt a rush of fondness towards both of them as I recollected this. They had certainly achieved their wish; the atmosphere around the house was warm, inviting and, most of all, full of hope. Everybody here was looking to the future and the next chapter, their sorrow consigned to the past.

I slipped by the house, resisting the urge to join the pack and their wives who I knew would be inside. Their voices faded and mingled into the lilting sounds of the night, as I walked on through the trees to the place where I had parked my truck all those hours before.

Then, I drove home, let myself in to Charlie’s empty house and hurried through the dark up to my old room.

It was weird being back. The room was still the scene of so many memories for me; hidden deep in those four walls were the ghosts of every tear and peal of laughter, the words of all the homework essays and emails to Renee, the dreams and nightmares and, of course, the indelible, inescapable presence of Edward. He haunted me, in every glance at every section of the room I could see him, the stare of his amber eyes printed in my mind as though tattooed there.

In a way, I decided, it was only right that his spirit was here with me. It was only fitting that he bore witness to what I was about to do.

And it was then, all alone in the shadows and silence, that I did the one thing which made sense. I slowly opened the desk draw and pulled out a sheet of paper.

‘Dear Edward…’


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