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.
"That should 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
I LAY 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 thought I 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?"