It was strange how much older he seemed tonight. They looked like peers now, maybe just because of his new height. As awkward as her injured leg made their dance-adjacent movement, she seemed more comfortable with him than with many of her other human friends. Perhaps his very pure, open mind had that effect on people.
A strange thought crossed my mind, half imagination, half fear.
Would that pretty, cluttered little house be in La Push?
I shook the idea away. It was just irrational jealousy. Jealousy was such a human emotion, powerful but senseless—based on nothing more than watching her pretend to dance with a friend. I would not let the future trouble me.
“Hey, I’m sorry you had to come do this, Jacob,” Bella was saying. “At any rate, you get your parts, right?”
“Yeah,” he muttered.
Would he know if I lied? I can’t say the rest. It’s enough.
Bella read his expression. “There’s more?” she asked, incredulous.
“Forget it,” he mumbled, looking away. “I’ll get a job and save the money myself.”
She waited for him to meet her gaze. “Just spit it out, Jacob.”
“It’s so bad.”
I shouldn’t have come. This is my own fault for agreeing to this.
“I don’t care,” she insisted. “Tell me.”
“Okay… but, geez, this sounds bad.” Jacob inhaled deeply. “He said to tell you, no, to warn you, that—and this is his plural, not mine…” Jacob lifted his right hand and with two fingers made quotations marks in the air. “‘We’ll be watching.’”
He watched for her reaction, ready to bolt.
Bella broke into a peal of laughter, as if he’d just told the funniest joke she’d ever heard. She couldn’t stop. Her words came between chuckles. “Sorry you had to do this, Jake.”
He was overwhelmed with relief. She’s right. It’s hilarious.
“I don’t mind that much.” She looks so pretty. I never would have seen her in this dress if I hadn’t come. Worth it right there, even with the gross perfume. “So, should I tell him you said to butt the hell out?”
She sighed. “No. Tell him I said thanks. I know he means well.”
The song ended, and Bella let her arms drop. My cue.
Jacob kept his hands on her waist, unsure if she could stand without help. “Do you want to dance again? Or can I help you get somewhere?”
“That’s all right, Jacob. I’ll take it from here.”
Jacob recoiled from my voice, so unexpectedly close. He took a step back, a sharp frisson of fear shooting up his spine.
“Hey, I didn’t see you there,” he mumbled. Can’t believe I’m letting Billy get in my head this way. “I guess I’ll see you around, Bella.”
“Yeah, I’ll see you later,” she said with enough enthusiasm that he recovered his composure. He waved, then muttered, “Sorry,” one more time before he headed for the door.
I pulled Bella into my arms, sliding my feet under hers again. I waited for the warmth of her body to erase the coldness that enveloped mine. I wouldn’t think about the future. Just this night, this minute.
She nestled her cheek against my chest, humming with contentment.
“Feeling better?” she murmured.
Of course she would read my mood.
“Not really,” I sighed.
“Don’t be mad at Billy. He just worries about me for Charlie’s sake. It’s nothing personal,” she assured me.
“I’m not mad at Billy. But his son is irritating me.”
It was too much truth. Though the boy didn’t really irritate me; a mind that expansive would always be a welcome respite from the average human’s. It was what he represented that hurt me. Someone good and kind and human.
I needed to force myself into the right frame of mind.
She leaned away, staring up at me with curiosity and a little bit of concern. “Why?”
I mentally shook off my funk and answered her playfully. “First of all, he made me break my promise.”
She didn’t remember.
I forced a smile. “I promised I wouldn’t let go of you tonight.”
“Oh. Well, I forgive you,” she said easily.
“Thanks.” I frowned in what I hoped was a joking way. “But there’s something else.”
She waited for me to explain.
“He called you pretty.” My voice made the word into something unpleasant. “That’s practically an insult, the way you look right now. You’re much more than beautiful.”
She relaxed now and laughed, worry for her friend evaporating. “You might be a little biased.”
I smiled better this time. “I don’t think that’s it. Besides, I have excellent eyesight.”
She stared at the twinkle lights spinning around us. Her heartbeat was slower than the tempo of the song playing, so I moved to that rhythm instead. A hundred voices, spoken and thought, swirled past us, but I didn’t really hear them. The sound of her heart was the only sound that mattered.
“So,” she said when the song shifted again. “Are you going to explain the reason for all of this?”
When I didn’t follow, she looked pointedly at the crepe paper garlands.
I thought about what I could tell her. Not the vision; she would have too many objections. And that was so far into the future, a future that I was trying very hard not to think about. But maybe I could tell her a little of the thought behind it. Though this wasn’t something we could discuss with an audience.
I changed the direction of our dance, spinning her toward the back exit. We circled past a few of her friends. Jessica waved, unhappily comparing Bella’s dress to her own, and Bella smiled back. None of her human classmates seemed totally happy with their night besides Angela and Ben, staring blissfully into each other’s eyes. That made me smile, too.
I pushed the door open with my back, still dancing. There was no one outside, though the night was very mild. The clouds to the west still held a fading bit of gold from the setting sun.
As no one could see us, I felt free to swing her up into my arms. I carried her away from the cafeteria, into the shadows of the madrone trees, where it was nearly midnight dark. I sat on the same bench where I’d watched her that sunny morning so many weeks ago, but kept her cradled close against my chest. In the east, a pale moon was shining through lace-thin clouds. It was an odd moment, the sky balanced perfectly between evening and full night.
She was still waiting for her explanation. “The point?” she asked quietly.
“Twilight again,” I mused. “Another ending. No matter how perfect the day is, it always has to end.”
These days mattered so much, and ended so quickly.
She tensed. “Some things don’t have to end.”
There was nothing I could say to that. She was right, but I knew she wasn’t thinking of the same permanent things I was. Things like pain. Pain didn’t have to end.
I sighed, and then answered her question. “I brought you to the prom because I don’t want you to miss anything. I don’t want my presence to take anything away from you, if I can help it. I want you to be human. I want your life to continue as it would have if I’d died in nineteen-eighteen like I should have.”
She shuddered and then shook her head violently twice, as though trying to dislodge my words. But when she spoke, her voice was teasing. “In what strange parallel dimension would I ever have gone to prom of my own free will? If you weren’t a thousand times stronger than me, I would never have let you get away with this.”
I smiled. “It wasn’t so bad, you said so yourself.”
Her eyes were clear and miles deep. “That’s because I was with you.”
I looked at the moon again. I could feel her gaze on my face. There was no time to worry about the future now. The present was much more pleasant. I thought of the very recent past, and her strange disorientation tonight. What had taken the place of the obvious answer in her mind?
I smiled down at her. “Will you tell me something?”
“Don’t I always?”
“Just promise you’ll tell me,” I insisted.
“Fine,” she agreed, unwilling.
“You seemed honestly surprised when you figured out that I was taking you here.”
“I was,” she interrupted.
“Exactly,” I said. “But you must have had some other theory.… I’m curious—what did you think I was dressing you up for?”
This seemed like an easy question, playful and in the moment. Nothing that could lead me into the future again.
But she hesitated, more serious than I expected. “I don’t want to tell you.”
“You promised.”
I almost smiled when the old curiosity and impatience flared. Some things never changed. “What’s the problem?”
“I think it will make you mad,” she said solemnly. “Or sad.”
I couldn’t align her grave expression with my somewhat silly question. I was afraid of her answer now, afraid it would restart the pain I tried so hard to avoid, but I knew I could never bear to leave my curiosity unanswered.
“I still want to know. Please?”
She sighed. Her eyes traced across the silver clouds.
“Well,” she said after a long moment. “I assumed it was some kind of… occasion. But I didn’t think it would be some trite human thing… prom!” She made a scoffing noise.
I took a short moment to control my reaction.
“Human?” I asked.
She looked down at her beautiful dress, tugging absently on a chiffon ruffle. I knew what was coming. I let her find the words she wanted.
“Okay,” she finally said. Her stare was a challenge now. “So I was hoping that you might have changed your mind… that you were going to change me, after all.”
I had so many years to feel this pain. I wished she weren’t forcing me to feel it now. Not while she was still in my arms. Not while she was in the lovely dress, the moonlight glinting off her pale shoulders, shadows like pools of night held in the curve of her collarbones.
I chose to ignore the pain and focus on just the surface of her answer.
I touched my lapel. “You thought that would be a black-tie occasion, did you?”
She frowned, embarrassed. “I don’t know how these things work. To me, at least, it seems more rational than prom does.”
I tried to smile, but that just irritated her.
“It’s not funny,” she said.
“No, you’re right, it’s not. I’d rather treat it like a joke, though, than believe you’re serious.”
“But I am serious.”
“I know,” I sighed.
It was a strange kind of pain. There was no temptation in it at all. Though what she wanted was my perfect future, an erasure of decades of agony, it didn’t appeal to me. I could never pay for my own happiness with the loss of hers.
When I’d poured out my heart to her distant God, I’d begged for strength. This much he’d given me: I felt no desire at all to see Bella immortal. My only want, my only need, was to have her life untouched by darkness, and that need consumed me.
I knew the future loomed, but I didn’t know exactly how long I had. I was committed to staying until she was totally healed, so I had a few more weeks until she was back on two feet, at least. Part of me wondered if it wouldn’t be right to wait until she outgrew me, as I’d originally planned. Wouldn’t that mean the least pain for her? It would be so easy to fall into that version. But I wasn’t sure if I had that long. The future felt like it was pressing closer. I didn’t know what the sign would be, but I knew I would recognize it when it came.
I’d tried so hard to avoid this conversation, but I could see it would make her happier to have it now. I swallowed all my pain and grief and forced myself back into this moment. I would be with her while I could be.
“And you’re really that willing?” I asked.
She bit her lip and nodded.
“So ready for this to be the end,” I sighed, stroking my finger down the side of her face. “For this to be the twilight of your life, though your life has barely started. You’re ready to give up everything.”
“It’s not the end, it’s the beginning,” she whispered.
“I’m not worth it.”
I already knew she didn’t count her human losses. And she had definitely never considered eternal losses. No one was worth that.
“Do you remember when you told me that I didn’t see myself very clearly?” she asked. “You obviously have the same blindness.”
“I know what I am.”
She rolled her eyes, annoyed with my refusal to agree with anything.
I found it suddenly easy to smile. She was so eager, so impatient to trade anything to be with me. It was impossible not to be moved by such a love.
I decided we could use a little playfulness.
“You’re ready now, then?” I asked, raising one eyebrow.
“Um. Yes?” She swallowed, nervous.
I leaned closer to her, keeping my movement unhurried. My lips finally touched the skin of her throat.
She swallowed again.
“Right now?” I whispered.
She shivered. Then her body tensed, her hands clenched into fists, and her heart started hammering faster than the faraway music from the dance.
“Yes,” she whispered.
My game had failed. I laughed at myself and straightened up. “You can’t really believe that I would give in so easily.”
She relaxed. Her heart slowed. “A girl can dream,” she said.
“Is that what you dream about? Being a monster?”
“Not exactly.” She didn’t like the word I’d used. Her voice dropped lower. “Mostly I dream about being with you forever.”
There was pain in her voice, doubt. Did she think I didn’t want her the same way? I wished I could ease her mind, but I couldn’t.
I traced the shape of her lips and breathed her name. “Bella.” I hoped she could hear the devotion in my voice. “I will stay with you.” As long as I can, as long as it’s allowed, as long as it doesn’t hurt you. Until the sign comes, until it’s impossible for me to ignore. “Isn’t that enough?”
She smiled, but she was unappeased. “Enough for now.”
Bella didn’t realize now was all we had. My breath came out as a groan.
Her fingertips brushed along the edge of my jaw. “Look,” she said. “I love you more than everything else in the world combined. Isn’t that enough?”
And then I could smile a genuine smile. “Yes, it is enough,” I promised. “Enough for forever.”
This time I spoke of the real forever. My eternal forever.
As the night finally overcame the end of the day, I leaned forward again and kissed the warm skin of her throat.