strong? That his hands pulled me too tight
against his body, and yet it was not tight enough for me?
The questions were stupid, because I knew the answer: I'd been lying to myself.
Jacob was right. He'd been right all along. He was more than just my friend. That's why it
was so impossible to tell him goodbye - because I was in love with him. Too. I loved him,
much more than I should, and yet, still nowhere near enough. I was in love with him, but it
was not enough to change anything; it was only enough to hurt us both more. To hurt him
worse than I ever had.
I didn't care about more than that - than his pain. I more than deserved whatever pain this
caused me. I hoped it was bad. I hoped I would really suffer.
In this moment, it felt as though we were the same person. His pain had always been and
would always be my pain - now his joy was my joy. I felt joy, too, and yet his happiness was
somehow also pain. Almost tangible - it burned against my skin like acid, a slow torture.
For one brief, never-ending second, an entirely different path expanded behind the lids of my
tear-wet eyes. As if I were looking through the filter of Jacob's thoughts, I could see exactly
what I was going to give up, exactly what this new self-knowledge would not save me from
losing. I could see Charlie and Renée mixed into a strange collage with Billy and Sam and La
Push. I could see years passing, and meaning something as they passed, changing me. I could
see the enormous red-brown wolf that I loved, always standing as protector if I needed him.
For the tiniest fragment of that second, I saw the bobbing heads of two small, black-haired
children, running away from me into the familiar forest. When they disappeared, they took
the rest of the vision with them.
And then, quite distinctly, I felt the splintering along the fissure line in my heart as the
smaller part wrenched itself away from the whole.
Jacob's lips were still before mine were. I opened my eyes and he was staring at me with
wonder and elation.
"I have to leave," he whispered.
"No."
He smiled, pleased by my response. "I won't be long," he promised. "But one thing first . . ."
He bent to kiss me again, and there was no reason to resist. What would be the point?
This time was different. His hands were soft on my face and his warm lips were gentle,
unexpectedly hesitant. It was brief, and very, very sweet.
His arms curled around me, and he hugged me securely while he whispered in my ear.
"Thatshould have been our first kiss. Better late than never."
Against his chest, where he couldn't see, the tears welled up and spilled over.
24. SNAP DECISION
ILAY FACEDOWN ACROSS THE SLEEPING BAG, WAITING for justice to find me.
Maybe an avalanche would bury me here. I wished it would. I never wanted to have to see
my face in the mirror again.
There was no sound to warn me. Out of nowhere, Edward's cold hand stroked against my
knotted hair. I shuddered guiltily at his touch.
"Are you all right?" he murmured, his voice anxious.
"No. I want to die."
"That will never happen. I won't allow it."
I groaned and then whispered, "You might change your mind about that."
"Where's Jacob?"
"He went to fight," I mumbled into the floor.
Jacob had left the little camp joyfully - with a cheerful "I'll be right back" - running full tilt for
the clearing, already quivering as he prepared to shift to his other self. By now the whole
pack knew everything. Seth Clearwater, pacing outside the tent, was an intimate witness to
my disgrace.
Edward was silent for a long moment. "Oh," he finally said.
The tone of his voice worried me that my avalanche wasn't coming fast enough. I peeked up
at him and, sure enough, his eyes were unfocused as he listened to something I'd rather die
than have him hear. I dropped my face back to the floor.
It stunned me when Edward chuckled reluctantly.
"And I thoughtI fought dirty," he said with grudging admiration. "He makes me look like the
patron saint of ethics." His hand brushed against the part of my cheek that was exposed. "I'm
not mad at you, love. Jacob's more cunning than I gave him credit for. I do wish you hadn't
asked him, though."
"Edward," I whispered to the rough nylon. "I . . . I . . . I'm -"
"Shh," he hushed me, his fingers soothing against my cheek. "That's not what I meant. It's
just that he would have kissed you anyway - even if you hadn't fallen for it - and now I don't
have an excuse to break his face. I would have really enjoyed that, too."
"Fallen for it?" I mumbled almost incomprehensibly.
"Bella, did you really believe he was that noble? That he would go out in a flame of glory just
to clear the way for me?"
I raised my head slowly to meet his patient gaze. His expression was soft; his eyes were full
of understanding rather than the revulsion I deserved to see.
"Yes, I did believe that," I muttered, and then looked away. But I didn't feel any anger at
Jacob for tricking me. There wasn't enough room in my body to contain anything besides the
hatred I felt toward myself.
Edward laughed softly again. "You're such a bad liar, you'll believe anyone who has the least
bit of skill."
"Why aren't you angry with me?" I whispered. "Why don't you hate me? Or haven't you
heard the whole story yet?"
"I think I got a fairly comprehensive look," he said in a light, easy voice. "Jacob makes vivid
mental pictures. I feel almost as bad for his pack as I do for myself. Poor Seth was getting
nauseated. But Sam is making Jacob focus now."
I closed my eyes and shook my head in agony. The sharp nylon fibers of the tent floor scraped
against my skin.
"You're only human," he whispered, stroking my hair again.
"That's the most miserable defense I've ever heard."
"But you are human, Bella. And, as much as I might wish otherwise, so is he. . . . There are
holes in your life that I can't fill. I understand that."
"But that's nottrue. That's what makes me so horrible. There are no holes."
"You love him," he murmured gently.
Every cell in my body ached to deny it.
"I love you more," I said. It was the best I could do.
"Yes, I know that, too. But . . . when I left you, Bella, I left you bleeding. Jacob was the one
to stitch you back up again. That was bound to leave its mark - on both of you. I'm not sure
those kinds of stitches dissolve on their own. I can't blame either of you for something I
made necessary. I may gain forgiveness, but that doesn't let me escape the consequences."
"I should have known you'd find some way to blame yourself. Please stop. I can't stand it."
"What would you like me to say?"
"I want you to call me every bad name you can think of, in every language you know. I want
you to tell me that you're disgusted with me and that you're going to leave so that I can beg
and grovel on my knees for you to stay."
"I'm sorry." He sighed. "I can't do that."
"At least stop trying to make me feel better. Let me suffer. I deserve it."
"No," he murmured.
I nodded slowly. "You're right. Keep on being too understanding. That's probably worse."
He was silent for a moment, and I sensed a charge in the atmosphere, a new urgency.
"It's getting close," I stated.
"Yes, a few more minutes now. Just enough time to say one more thing. . . ."
I waited. When he finally spoke again, he was whispering. "Ican be noble, Bella. I'm not
going to make you choose between us. Just be happy, and you can have whatever part of me
you want, or none at all, if that's better. Don't let any debt you feel you owe me influence
your decision."
I pushed off the floor, shoving myself up onto my knees.
"Dammit, stop that!" I shouted at him.
His eyes widened in surprise. "No - you don't understand. I'm not just trying to make you feel
better, Bella, I really mean it."
"Iknow you do," I groaned. "What happened to fighting back? Don't start with the noble
self-sacrifice now! Fight!"
"How?" he asked, and his eyes were ancient with their sadness.
I scrambled into his lap, throwing my arms around him.
"I don't care that it's cold here. I don't care that I stink like a dog right now. Make me forget
how awful I am. Make me forget him. Make me forget my own name. Fight back!"
I didn't wait for him to decide - or to have the chance to tell me he wasn't interested in a
cruel, faithless monster like me. I pulled myself against him and crushed my mouth to his
snow-cold lips.
"Careful, love," he murmured under my urgent kiss.
"No," I growled.
He gently pushed my face a few inches back. "You don't have to prove anything to me."
"I'm not trying to prove something. You said I could have any part of you I wanted. I want
this part. I wantevery part." I wrapped my arms around his neck and strained to reach his lips.
He bent his head to kiss me back, but his cool mouth was hesitant as my impatience grew
more pronounced. My body was making my intentions clear, giving me away. Inevitably, his
hands moved to restrain me.
"Perhaps this isn't the best moment for that," he suggested, too calm for my liking.
"Why not?" I grumbled. There was no point in fighting if he was going to be rational; I
dropped my arms.
"Firstly, because itis cold." He reached out to pull the sleeping bag off the floor; he wrapped
it around me like a blanket.
"Wrong," I said. "First, because you are bizarrely moral for a vampire."
He chuckled. "All right, I'll give you that. The cold is second. And thirdly . . . well, you do
actually stink, love."
He wrinkled his nose.
I sighed.
"Fourthly," he murmured, dropping his face so that he was whispering in my ear. "Wewill try,
Bella. I'll make good on my promise. But I'd much rather it wasn't in reaction to Jacob
Black."
I cringed, and buried my face against his shoulder.
"And fifthly . . ."
"This is a very long list," I muttered.
He laughed. "Yes, but did you want to listen to the fight or not?"
As he spoke, Seth howled stridently outside the tent.
My body stiffened to the sound. I di