I felt like—like I don’t know what. Like this wasn’t real. Like I was in some Goth version of a bad sitcom. Instead of being the A/V dweeb about to ask the head cheerleader to the prom, I was the finished-second-place werewolf about to ask the vampire’s wife to shack up and procreate. Nice.
No, I wouldn’t do it. It was twisted and wrong. I was going to forget all about what he’d said.
But I would talk to her. I’d try to make her listen to me.
And she wouldn’t. Just like always.
Edward didn’t answer or comment on my thoughts as he led the way back to the house. I wondered about the place that he’d chosen to stop. Was it far enough from the house that the others couldn’t hear his whispers? Was that the point?
Maybe. When we walked through the door, the other Cullens’ eyes were suspicious and confused. No one looked disgusted or outraged. So they must not have heard either favor Edward had asked me for.
I hesitated in the open doorway, not sure what to do now. It was better right there, with a little bit of breathable air blowing in from outside.
Edward walked into the middle of the huddle, shoulders stiff. Bella watched him anxiously, and then her eyes flickered to me for a second. Then she was watching him again.
Her face turned a grayish pale, and I could see what he meant about the stress making her feel worse.
“We’re going to let Jacob and Bella speak privately,” Edward said. There was no inflection at all in his voice. Robotic.
“Over my pile of ashes,” Rosalie hissed at him. She was still hovering by Bella’s head, one of her cold hands placed possessively on Bella’s sallow cheek.
Edward didn’t look at her. “Bella,” he said in that same empty tone. “Jacob wants to talk to you. Are you afraid to be alone with him?”
Bella looked at me, confused. Then she looked at Rosalie.
“Rose, it’s fine. Jake’s not going to hurt us. Go with Edward.”
“It might be a trick,” the blonde warned.
“I don’t see how,” Bella said.
“Carlisle and I will always be in your sight, Rosalie,” Edward said. The emotionless voice was cracking, showing the anger through it. “We’re the ones she’s afraid of.”
“No,” Bella whispered. Her eyes were glistening, her lashes wet. “No, Edward. I’m not. . . .”
He shook his head, smiling a little. The smile was painful to look at. “I didn’t mean it that way, Bella. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
Sickening. He was right—she was beating herself up about hurting his feelings. The girl was a classic martyr. She’d totally been born in the wrong century. She should have lived back when she could have gotten herself fed to some lions for a good cause.
“Everyone,” Edward said, his hand stiffly motioning toward the door. “Please.”
The composure he was trying to keep up for Bella was shaky. I could see how close he was to that burning man he’d been outside. The others saw it, too. Silently, they moved out the door while I shifted out of the way. They moved fast; my heart beat twice, and the room was cleared except for Rosalie, hesitating in the middle of the floor, and Edward, still waiting by the door.
“Rose,” Bella said quietly. “I want you to go.”
The blonde glared at Edward and then gestured for him to go first. He disappeared out the door. She gave me a long warning glower, and then she disappeared, too.
Once we were alone, I crossed the room and sat on the floor next to Bella. I took both her cold hands in mine, rubbing them carefully.
“Thanks, Jake. That feels good.”
“I’m not going to lie, Bells. You’re hideous.”
“I know,” she sighed. “I’m scary-looking.”
“Thing-from-the-swamp scary,” I agreed.
She laughed. “It’s so good having you here. It feels nice to smile. I don’t know how much more drama I can stand.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Okay, okay,” she agreed. “I bring it on myself.”
“Yeah, you do. What’re you thinking, Bells? Seriously!”
“Did he ask you to yell at me?”
“Sort of. Though I can’t figure why he thinks you’d listen to me. You never have before.”
She sighed.
“I told you—,” I started to say.
“Did you know that ‘I told you so’ has a brother, Jacob?” she asked, cutting me off. “His name is ‘Shut the hell up.’”
“Good one.”
She grinned at me. Her skin stretched tight over the bones. “I can’t take credit—I got it off a rerun of The Simpsons.”
“Missed that one.”
“It was funny.”
We didn’t talk for a minute. Her hands were starting to warm up a little.
“Did he really ask you to talk to me?”
I nodded. “To talk some sense into you. There’s a battle that’s lost before it starts.”
“So why did you agree?”
I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure I knew.
I did know this—every second I spent with her was only going to add to the pain I would have to suffer later. Like a junkie with a limited supply, the day of reckoning was coming for me. The more hits I took now, the harder it would be when my supply ran out.
“It’ll work out, you know,” she said after a quiet minute. “I believe that.”
That made me see red again. “Is dementia one of your symptoms?” I snapped.
She laughed, though my anger was so real that my hands were shaking around hers.
“Maybe,” she said. “I’m not saying things will work out easily, Jake. But how could I have lived through all that I’ve lived through and not believe in magic by this point?”
“Magic?”
“Especially for you,” she said. She was smiling. She pulled one of her hands away from mine and pressed it against my cheek. Warmer than before, but it felt cool against my skin, like most things did. “More than anyone else, you’ve got some magic waiting to make things right for you.”
“What are you babbling about?”
Still smiling. “Edward told me once what it was like—your imprinting thing. He said it was like A Midsummer Night’s Dream, like magic. You’ll find who you’re really looking for, Jacob, and maybe then all of this will make sense.”
If she hadn’t looked so fragile I would’ve been screaming.
As it was, I did growl at her.
“If you think that imprinting could ever make sense of this insanity . . .” I struggled for words. “Do you really think that just because I might someday imprint on some stranger it would make this right?” I jabbed a finger toward her swollen body. “Tell me what the point was then, Bella! What was the point of me loving you? What was the point of you loving him? When you die”—the words were a snarl—“how is that ever right again? What’s the point to all the pain? Mine, yours, his! You’ll kill him, too, not that I care about that.” She flinched, but I kept going. “So what was the point of your twisted love story, in the end? If there is any sense, please show me, Bella, because I don’t see it.”
She sighed. “I don’t know yet, Jake. But I just… feel… that this is all going somewhere good, hard to see as it is now. I guess you could call it faith.”
“You’re dying for nothing, Bella! Nothing!”
Her hand dropped from my face to her bloated stomach, caressed it. She didn’t have to say the words for me to know what she was thinking. She was dying for it.
“I’m not going to die,” she said through her teeth, and I could tell she was repeating things she’d said before. “I will keep my heart beating. I’m strong enough for that.”
“That’s a load of crap, Bella. You’ve been trying to keep up with the supernatural for too long. No normal person can do it. You’re not strong enough.” I took her face in my hand. I didn’t have to remind myself to be gentle. Everything about her screamed breakable.
“I can do this. I can do this,” she muttered, sounding a lot like that kids’ book about the little engine that could.
“Doesn’t look like it to me. So what’s your plan? I hope you have one.”
She nodded, not meeting my eyes. “Did you know Esme jumped off a cliff? When she was human, I mean.”
“So?”
“So she was close enough to dead that they didn’t even bother taking her to the emergency room—they took her right around to the morgue. Her heart was still beating, though, when Carlisle found her. . . .”
That’s what she’d meant before, about keeping her heart beating.
“You’re not planning on surviving this human,” I stated dully.
“No. I’m not stupid.” She met my stare then. “I guess you probably have your own opinion on that point, though.”
“Emergency vampirization,” I mumbled.
“It worked for Esme. And Emmett, and Rosalie, and even Edward. None of them were in such great shape. Carlisle only changed them because it was that or death. He doesn’t end lives, he saves them.”
I felt a sudden twinge of guilt about the good vampire doctor, like before. I shoved the thought away and started in on the begging.
“Listen to me, Bells. Don’t do it that way.” Like before, when the call from Charlie had come, I could see how much difference it really made to me. I realized I needed her to stay alive, in some form. In any form. I took a deep breath. “Don’t wait until it’s too late, Bella. Not that way. Live. Okay? Just live. Don’t do this to me. Don’t do it to him.” My voice got harder, louder. “You know what he’s going to do when you die. You’ve seen it before. You want him to go back to those Italian killers?” She cringed into the sofa.
I left out the part about how that wouldn’t be necessary this time.
Struggling to make my voice softer, I asked, “Remember when I got mangled up by those newborns? What did you tell me?”
I waited, but she wouldn’t answer. She pressed her lips together.
“You told me to be good and listen to Carlisle,” I reminded her. “And what did I do? I listened to the vampire. For you.”
“You listened because it was the right thing to do.”
“Okay—pick either reason.”
She took a deep breath. “It’s not the right thing now.” Her gaze touched her big round stomach and she whispered under her breath, “I won’t kill him.”
My hands shook again. “Oh, I hadn’t heard the great news. A bouncing baby boy, huh? Shoulda brought some blue balloons.”
Her face turned pink. The color was so beautiful—it twisted in my stomach like a knife. A serrated knife, rusty and ragged.
I was going to lose this. Again.
“I don’t know he’s a boy,” she admitted, a little sheepish. “The ultrasound wouldn’t work. The membrane around the baby is too hard—like their skin. So he’s a little mystery. But I always see a boy in my head.”
“It’s not some pretty baby in there, Bella.”
“We’ll see,” she said. Almost smug.
“You won’t,” I snarled.
“You’re very pessimistic, Jacob. There is definitely a chance that I might walk away from this.”
I couldn’t answer. I looked down and breathed deep and slow, trying to get a grip on my fury.
“Jake,” she said, and she patted my hair, stroked my cheek. “It’s going to be okay. Shh. It’s okay.”
I didn’t look up. “No. It will not be okay.”
She wiped something wet from my cheek. “Shh.”
“What’s the deal, Bella?” I stared at the pale carpet. My bare feet were dirty, leaving smudges. Good. “I thought the whole point was that you wanted your vampire more than anything. And now you’re just giving him up? That doesn’t make any sense. Since when are you desperate to be a mom? If you wanted that so much, why did you marry a vampire?”
I was dangerously close to that offer he wanted me to make. I could see the words taking me that way, but I couldn’t change their direction.
She sighed. “It’s not like that. I didn’t really care about having a baby. I didn’t even think about it. It’s not just having a baby. It’s… well… this baby.”
“It’s a killer, Bella. Look at yourself.”
“He’s not. It’s me. I’m just weak and human. But I can tough this out, Jake, I can—”
“Aw, come on! Shut up, Bella. You can spout this crap to your bloodsucker, but you’re not fooling me. You know you’re not going to make it.”
She glared at me. “I do not know that. I’m worried about it, sure.”
“Worried about it,” I repeated through my teeth.
She gasped then and clutched at her stomach. My fury vanished like a light switch being turned off.
“I’m fine,” she panted. “It’s nothing.”
But I didn’t hear; her hands had pulled her sweatshirt to the side, and I stared, horrified, at the skin it exposed. Her stomach looked like it was stained with big splotches of purple-black ink.
She saw my stare, and she yanked the fabric back in place.
“He’s strong, that’s all,” she said defensively.
The ink spots were bruises.
I almost gagged, and I understood what he’d said, about watching it hurt her. Suddenly, I felt a little crazy myself.
“Bella,” I said.
She heard the change in my voice. She looked up, still breathing heavy, her eyes confused.
“Bella, don’t do this.”
“Jake—”
“Listen to me. Don’t get your back up yet. Okay? Just listen. What if… ?”
“What if what?”
“What if this wasn’t a one-shot deal? What if it wasn’t all or nothing? What if you just listened to Carlisle like a good girl, and kept yourself alive?”
“I won’t—”
“I’m not done yet. So you stay alive. Then you can start over. This didn’t work out. Try again.”
She frowned. She raised one hand and touched the place where my eyebrows were mashing together. Her fingers smoothed my forehead for a moment while she tried to make sense of it.
“I don’t understand.… What do you mean, try again? You can’t think Edward would let me… ? And what difference would it make? I’m sure any baby—”
“Yes,” I snapped. “Any kid of his would be the same.”
Her tired face just got more confused. “What?”
But I couldn’t say any more. There was no point. I would never be able to save her from herself. I’d never been able to do that.
Then she blinked, and I could see she got it.
“Oh. Ugh. Please, Jacob. You think I should kill my baby and replace it with some generic substitute? Artificial insemination?” She was mad now. “Why would I want to have some stranger’s baby? I suppose it just doesn’t make a difference? Any baby will do?”
“I didn’t mean that,” I muttered. “Not a stranger.”
She leaned forward. “Then what are you saying?”
“Nothing. I’m saying nothing. Same as ever.”
“Where did that come from?”
“Forget it, Bella.”
She frowned, suspicious. “Did he tell you to say that?”
I hesitated, surprised that she’d made that leap so quick. “No.”
“He did, didn’t he?”
“No, really. He didn’t say anything about artificial whatever.”
Her face softened then, and she sank back against the pillows, looking exhausted. She stared off to the side when she spoke, not talking to me at all. “He would do anything for me. And I’m hurting him so much.… But what is he thinking? That I would trade this”—her hand traced across her belly—“for some stranger’s . . .” She mumbled the last part, and then her voice trailed off. Her eyes were wet.
“You don’t have to hurt him,” I whispered. It burned like poison in my mouth to beg for him, but I knew this angle was probably my best bet for keeping her alive. Still a thousand-to-one odds. “You could make him happy again, Bella. And I really think he’s losing it. Honestly, I do.”
She didn’t seem to be listening; her hand made small circles on her battered stomach while she chewed on her lip. It was quiet for a long time. I wondered if the Cullens were very far away. Were they listening to my pathetic attempts to reason with her?
“Not a stranger?” she murmured to herself. I flinched. “What exactly did Edward say to you?” she asked in a low voice.
“Nothing. He just thought you might listen to me.”
“Not that. About trying again.”
Her eyes locked on mine, and I could see that I’d already given too much away.
“Nothing.”
Her mouth fell open a little. “Wow.”
It was silent for a few heartbeats. I looked down at my feet again, unable to meet her stare.
“He really would do anything, wouldn’t he?” she whispered.
“I told you he was going crazy. Literally, Bells.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t tell on him right away. Get him in trouble.”
When I looked up, she was grinning.
“Thought about it.” I tried to grin back, but I could feel the smile mangle on my face.
She knew what I was offering, and she wasn’t going to think twice about it. I’d known that she wouldn’t. But it still stung.
“There isn’t much you wouldn’t do for me, either, is there?” she whispered. “I really don’t know why you bother. I don’t deserve either of you.”
“It makes no difference, though, does it?”