The Twilight Saga Collection part 2(127)

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 thought 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.