The way he said it, though angrier, reminded me of Edward's tribute to Jacob's lack of ethics in the tent this morning. Which meant that Jake was still hoping, still fighting. I winced as that stabbed deep.
"He's not playing any game, Jake," I said quietly.
"You bet he is. He's playing every bit as hard as I am, only he knows what he's doing and I don't. Don't blame me because he's a better manipulator than I am -- I haven't been around long enough to learn all his tricks."
"He isn't manipulating me!"
"Yes, he is! When are you going to wake up and realize that he's not a perfect as you think he is?"
"At least he didn't threaten to kill himself to make me kiss him," I snapped. As soon as the words were out, I flushed with chagrin. "Wait. Pretend that didn't slip out. I swore to myself that I wasn't going to say anything about that."
He took a deep breath. When he spoke, he was calmer. "Why not?"
"Because I didn't come here to blame you for anything."
"It's true, though," he said evenly. "I did do that."
"I don't care, Jake. I'm not mad."
He smiled. "I don't care, either. I knew you'd forgive me, and I'm glad I did it. I'd do it again. At least I have that much. At least I made you see that you do love me. That's worth something."
"Is it? Is it really better than if I was still in the dark?"
"Don't you think you ought to know how you feel -- just so that it doesn't take you by surprise someday when it's too late and you're a married vampire?"
I shook my head. "No -- I didn't mean better for me. I meant better for you. Does it make things better or worse for you, having me know that I'm in love with you? When it doesn't make a difference either way. Would it have been better, easier for you, if I never clued in?"
He took my question as seriously as I'd meant it, thinking carefully before he answered. "Yes, it's better to have you know," he finally decided. "If you hadn't figured it out . . . I'd have always wondered if your decision would have been different if you had. Now I know. I did everything I could." He dragged in an unsteady breath, and closed his eyes.
This time I did not -- could not -- resist the urge to comfort him. I crossed the small room and kneeled by his head, afraid to sit on the bed in case I jostled it and hurt him, and leaned in to touch my forehead to his cheek.
Jacob sighed, and put his hand on my hair, holding me there.
"I'm so sorry, Jake."
"I always knew this was a long shot. It's not your fault, Bella."
"Not you, too," I moaned. "Please."
He pulled away to look at me. "What?"
"It is my fault. And I'm so sick of being told it's not."
He grinned. It didn't touch his eyes. "You want me to haul you over the coals?"
"Actually . . . I think I do."
He pursed his lips as he measured how much I meant it. A smile flashed across his face briefly, and then he twisted his expression into a fierce scowl.
"Kissing me back like that was inexcusable." He spit the words at me. "If you knew you were just going to take it back, maybe you shouldn't have been quite so convincing about it."
I winced and nodded. "I'm so sorry."
"Sorry doesn't make anything better, Bella. What were you thinking?"
"I wasn't," I whispered.
"You should have told me to go die. That's what you want."
"No, Jacob," I whimpered, fighting against the budding tears. "No! Never."
"You're not crying?" he demanded, his voice suddenly back to its normal tone. He twitched impatiently on the bed.
"Yeah," I muttered, laughing weakly at myself through the tears that were suddenly sobs.
He shifted his weight, throwing his good leg off the bed as if he were going to try to stand.
"What are you doing?" I demanded through the tears. "Lie down, you idiot, you'll hurt yourself!" I jumped to my feet and pushed his good shoulder down with two hands.
He surrendered, leaning back with a gasp of pain, but he grabbed me around my waist and pulled me down on the bed, against his good side. I curled up there, trying to stifle the silly sobs against his hot skin.
"I can't believe you're crying," he mumbled. "You know I just said those things because you wanted me to. I didn't mean them." His hand rubbed against my shoulders.
"I know." I took a deep, ragged breath, trying to control myself. How did I end up being the one crying while he did the comforting? "It's all still true, though. Thanks for saying it out loud."
"Do I get points for making you cry?"
"Sure, Jake." I tried to smile. "As many as you want."
"Don't worry, Bella, honey. It's all going to work out."
"I don't see how," I muttered.
He patted the top of my head. "I'm going to give in and be good."
"More games?" I wondered, tilting my chin so that I could see his face.
"Maybe." He laughed with a bit of effort, and then winced. "But I'm going to try."
I frowned.
"Don't be so pessimistic," he complained. "Give me a little credit."
"What do you mean by 'be good'?"
"I'll be your friend, Bella," he said quietly. "I won't ask for more than that."
"I think it's too late for that, Jake. How can we be friends, when we love each other like this?"
He looked at the ceiling, his stare intent, as if he were reading something that was written there. "Maybe . . . it will have to be a long-distance friendship."
I clenched my teeth together, glad he wasn't looking at my face, fighting against the sobs that threatened to overtake me again. I needed to be strong, and I had no idea how. . . .
"You know that story in the Bible?" Jacob asked suddenly, still reading the blank ceiling. "The one with the king and the two women fighting over the baby?"
"Sure. King Solomon."
"That's right. King Solomon," he repeated. "And he said, cut the kid in half . . . but it was only a test. Just to see who would give up their share to protect it."
"Yeah, I remember."
He looked back at my face. "I'm not going to cut you in half anymore, Bella."
I understood what he was saying. He was telling me that he loved me the most, that his surrender proved it. I wanted to defend Edward, to tell Jacob how Edward would do the same thing if I wanted, if I would let him. I was the one who wouldn't renounce my claim there. But there was no point in starting an argument that would only hurt him more.
I closed my eyes, willing myself to control the pain. I couldn't impose that on him.
We were quiet for a moment. He seemed to be waiting for me to say something; I was trying to think of something to say.
"Can I tell you what the worst part is?" he asked hesitantly when I said nothing. "Do you mind? I am going to be good."
"Will it help?" I whispered.
"It might. It couldn't hurt."
"What's the worst part, then?"
"The worse part is knowing what would have been."
"What might have been." I sighed.
"No." Jacob shook his head. "I'm exactly right for you, Bella. It would have been effortless for us -- comfortable, easy as breathing. I was the natural path your life would have taken. . . ." He stared into space for a moment, and I waited. "If the world was the way it was supposed to be, if there were no monsters and no magic . . ."
I could see what he saw, and I knew that he was right. If the world was the sane place it was supposed to be, Jacob and I would have been together. And we would have been happy. He was my soul mate in that world -- would have been my soul mate still if his claim had not been overshadowed by something stronger, something so strong that it could not exist in a rational world.
Was it out there for Jacob, too? Something that would trump a soul mate? I had to believe that it was.
Two futures, two soul mates . . . too much for any one person. And so unfair that I wouldn't be the only one to pay for it. Jacob's pain seemed too high a price. Cringing at the th
ought of that price, I wondered if I would have wavered, if I hadn't lost Edward once. If I didn't know what it was like to live without him. I wasn't sure. That knowledge was so deep a part of me, I couldn't imagine how I would feel without it.
"He's like a drug for you, Bella." His voice was still gentle, not at all critical. "I see that you can't live without him now. It's too late. But I would have been healthier for you. Not a drug; I would have been the air, the sun."
The corner of my mouth turned up in a wistful half-smile. "I used to think of you that way, you know. Like the sun. My personal sun. You balanced out the clouds nicely for me."
He sighed. "The clouds I can handle. But I can't fight with an eclipse."
I touched his face, laying my hand against his cheek. He exhaled at my touch and closed his eyes. It was very quiet. For a minute I could hear the beating of his heart, slow and even.
"Tell me the worst part for you," he whispered.
"I think that might be a bad idea."
"Please."
"I think it will hurt."
"Please."
How could I deny him anything at this point?
"The worst part . . ." I hesitated, and then let words spill out in a flood of truth. "The worst part is that I saw the whole thing -- our whole life. And I want it bad, Jake, I want it all. I want to stay right here and never move. I want to love you and make you happy. And I can't, and it's killing me. It's like Sam and Emily, Jake -- I never had a choice. I always knew nothing would change. Maybe that's why I was fighting against you so hard."
He seemed to be concentrating on breathing evenly.
"I knew I shouldn't have told you that."
He shook his head slowly. "No. I'm glad you did. Thank you." He kissed the top of my head, and then he sighed. "I'll be good now."
I looked up, and he was smiling.
"So you're going to get married, huh?"
"We don't have to talk about that."
"I'd like to know some of the details. I don't know when I'll talk to you again."
I had to wait for a minute before I could speak. When I was pretty sure that my voice wouldn't break, I answered his question.
"It's not really my idea . . . but, yes. It means a lot to him. I figure, why not?"
Jake nodded. "That's true. It's not such a big thing -- in comparison."
His voice was very calm, very practical. I stared at him, curious about how he was managing, and that ruined it. He met my eyes for a second, and then twisted his head away. I waited to speak until his breathing was under control.
"Yes. In comparison," I agreed.
"How long do you have left?"
"That depends on how long it takes Alice to pull a wedding together." I suppressed a groan, imagining what Alice would do.
"Before or after?" he asked quietly.
I knew what he meant. "After."
He nodded. This was a relief to him. I wondered how many sleepless nights the thought of my graduation had given him.
"Are you scared?" he whispered.
"Yes," I whispered back.
"What are you afraid of?" I could barely hear his voice now. He stared down at my hands.
"Lots of things." I worked to make my voice lighter, but I stayed honest. "I've never been much of a masochist, so I'm not looking forward to the pain. And I wish there was some way to keep him away -- I don't want him to suffer with me, but I don't think there's any way around it. There's dealing with Charlie, too, and Renee. . . . And then afterward, I hope I'll be able to control myself soon. Maybe I'll be such a menace that the pack will have to take me out."
He looked up with a disapproving expression. "I'd hamstring any one of my brothers who tried."
"Thanks."
He smiled halfheartedly. Then he frowned. "But isn't it more dangerous than that? In all of the stories, they say it's too hard . . . they lose control . . . people die. . . ." He gulped.
"No, I'm not afraid of that. Silly Jacob -- don't you know better than to believe vampire stories?"
He obviously didn't appreciate my attempt at humor.
"Well, anyway, lots to worry about. But worth it, in the end."
He nodded unwillingly, and I knew that he in no way agreed with me.
I stretched my neck up to whisper in his ear, laying my cheek against his warm skin. "You know I love you."
"I know," he breathed, his arm tightening automatically around my waist. "You know how much I wish it was enough."
"Yes."
"I'll always be waiting in the wings, Bella," he promised, lightening his tone and loosening his arm. I pulled away with a dull, dragging sense of loss, feeling the tearing separation as I left a part of me behind, there on the bed next to him. "You'll always have that spare option if you want it."
I made an effort to smile. "Until my heart stops beating."
He grinned back. "You know, I think maybe I'd still take you -- maybe. I guess that depends on how much you stink."
"Should I come back to see you? Or would you rather I didn't?"
"I'll think it through and get back to you," he said. "I might need the company to keep from going crazy. The vampire surgeon extraordinaire says I can't phase until he gives the okay -- it might mess up the way the bones are set." Jacob made a face.
"Be good and do what Carlisle tells you to do. You'll get well faster."
"Sure, sure."
"I wonder when it will happen," I said. "When the right girl is going to catch your eye."
"Don't get your hopes up, Bella." Jacob's voice was abruptly sour. "Though I'm sure it would be a relief for you."
"Maybe, maybe not. I probably won't think she's good enough for you. I wonder how jealous I'll be."
"That part might be kind of fun," he admitted.
"Let me know if you want me to come back, and I'll be here," I promised.
With a sigh, he turned his cheek toward me.
I leaned in and kissed his face softly. "Love you, Jacob."
He laughed lightly. "Love you more."
He watched me walk out of his room with an unfathomable expression in his black eyes.
27. NEEDS
I DIDN'T GET VERY FAR BEFORE DRIVING BECAME IMPOSsible.
When I couldn't see anymore, I let my tires find the rough shoulder and rolled slowly to a stop. I slumped over on the seat and allowed the weakness I'd fought in Jacob's room crush me. It was worse that I'd thought -- the force of it took me by surprise. Yes, I had been right to hide this from Jacob. No one should ever see this.
But I wasn't alone for very long -- just exactly long enough for Alice to see me here, and then the few minutes it took him to arrive. The door creaked open, and he pulled me into his arms.
At first it was worse. Because there was that smaller part of me -- smaller, but getting louder and angrier every minute, screaming at the rest of me -- that craved a different set of arms. So then there was fresh guilt to season the pain.
He didn't say anything, he just let me sob until I began to blubber out Charlie's name.
"Are you really ready to go home?" he asked doubtfully.
I managed to convey, after several attempts, that it wasn't going to get any better anytime soon. I needed to get past Charlie before it got late enough for him to call Billy.
So he drove me home -- for once not even getting close to my truck's internal speed limit -- keeping one arm wrapped tightly around me. The whole way, I fought for control. It seemed to be a doomed effort at first, but I didn't give up. Just a few seconds, I told myself. Just time for a few excuses, or a few lies, and then I could break down again. I had to be able to do that much. I scrambled around in my head, searching desperately for a reserve of strength.
There was just enough for me to quiet the sobs -- hold them back but not end them. The tears didn't slow. I couldn't seem to find any handle to even begin to work with those.
"Wait for me upstairs," I mumbled when we were in front of the house.
He hugged me closer for one minu
te, and then he was gone.
Once inside, I headed straight for the stairs.
"Bella?" Charlie called after me from his usual place on the sofa as I walked by.
I turned to look at him without speaking. His eyes bugged wide, and he lurched to his feet.
"What happened? Is Jacob . . . ?" he demanded.
I shook my head furiously, trying to find my voice. "He's fine, he's fine," I promised, my voice low and husky. And Jacob was fine, physically, which is all Charlie was worried about at the moment.
"But what happened?" He grabbed my shoulders, his eyes still anxious and wide. "What happened to you?"
I must look worse than I'd imagined.
"Nothing, Dad. I . . . just had to talk to Jacob about . . . some things that were hard. I'm fine."
The anxiety calmed, and was replaced by disapproval.
"Was this really the best time?" he asked.
"Probably not, Dad, but I didn't have any alternatives -- it just got to the point where I had to choose. . . . Sometimes, there isn't any way to compromise."
He shook his head slowly. "How did he handle it?"
I didn't answer.
He looked at my face for a minute, and then nodded. That must have been answer enough.
"I hope you didn't mess up his recovery."
"He's a quick healer," I mumbled.
Charlie sighed.
I could feel the control slipping.
"I'll be in my room," I told him, shrugging out from underneath his hands.
"'Kay," Charlie agreed. He could probably see the waterworks starting to escalate. Nothing scared Charlie worse than tears.
I made my way to my room, blind and stumbling.
Once inside, I fought with the clasp on my bracelet, trying to undo it with shaking fingers.
"No, Bella," Edward whispered, capturing my hands. "It's part of who you are."
He pulled me into the cradle of his arms as the sobs broke free again.
This longest of days seemed to stretch on and on and on. I wondered if it would ever end.
But, though the night dragged relentlessly, it was not the worst night of my life. I took comfort from that. And I was not alone. There was a great deal of comfort in that, too.
Charlie's fear of emotional outbursts kept him from checking on me, though I was not quiet -- he probably got no more sleep than I did.
My hindsight seemed unbearably clear tonight. I could see every mistake I'd made, every bit of harm I'd done, the small things and the big things. Each pain I'd caused Jacob, each wound I'd given Edward, stacked up into neat piles that I could not ignore or deny.
And I realized that I'd been wrong all along about the magnets. It had not been Edward and Jacob that I'd been trying to force together, it was the two parts of myself, Edward's Bella and Jacob's Bella. But they could not exist together, and I never should have tried.