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The Twilight Saga Collection part 2(107)

By:Stephenie Meyer


“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?”

“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 not true. 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.”