How could I explain so that he would understand? I was an empty shell. Like a vacant house–condemned–for months I'd been utterly uninhabitable. Now I was a little improved. The front room was in better repair. But that was all–just the one small piece. He deserved better than that–better than a one-room, falling-down fixer-upper. No amount of investment on his part could put me back in working order.
Yet I knew that I wouldn't send him away, regardless. I needed him too much, and I was selfish. Maybe I could make my side more clear, so that he would know to leave me. The thought made me shudder, and Jacob tightened his arm around me.
I drove Mike home in his Suburban, while Jacob followed behind us to take me home. Jacob was quiet all the way back to my house, and I wondered if he were thinking the same things that I was. Maybe he was changing his mind.
"I would invite myself in, since we're early," he said as we pulled up next to my truck. "But I think you might be right about the fever. I'm starting to feel a little… strange." "Oh no, not you, too! Do you want me to drive you home?" "No." He shook his head, his eyebrows pulling together. "I don't feel sick yet. Just… wrong. If I have to, I'll pull over."
"Will you call me as soon as you get in?" I asked anxiously. "Sure, sure." He frowned, staring ahead into the darkness and biting his lip.
I opened my door to get out, but he grabbed my wrist lightly and held me there. I noticed again how hot his skin felt on mine.
"What is it, Jake?" I asked.
"There's something I want to tell you, Bella… but I think it's going to sound kind of corny." I sighed. This would be more of the same from the theater. "Go ahead."
"It's just that, I know how you're unhappy a lot. And, maybe it doesn't help anything, but I wanted you to know that I'm always here. I won't ever let you down–I promise that you can always count on me. Wow, that does sound corny. But you know that, right? That I would never, ever hurt you?"
"Yeah, Jake. I know that. And I already do count on you, probably more than you know."
The smile broke across his face the way the sunrise set the clouds on fire, and I wanted to cut my tongue out. I hadn't said one word that was a lie, but I should have lied. The truth was wrong, it would hurt him. I would let him down.
A strange look crossed his face. "I really think I'd better go home now," he said. I got out quickly. "Call me!" I yelled as he pulled away.
I watched him go, and he seemed to be in control of the car, at least. I stared at the empty street when he was gone, feeling a little sick myself, but not for any physical reason.
How much I wished that Jacob Black had been born my brother, my flesh-and -blood brother, so that I would have some legitimate claim on him that still left me free of any blame now. Heaven knows I had never wanted to use Jacob, but I couldn't help but interpret the guilt I felt now to mean that I had.
Even more, I had never meant to love him. One thing I truly knew–knew it in the pit of my stomach, in the center of my bones, knew it from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, knew it deep in my empty chest–was how love gave someone the power to break you.
I'd been broken beyond repair.
But I needed Jacob now, needed him like a drug. I'd used him as a crutch for too long, and I was in deeper than I'd planned to go with anyone again. Now I couldn't bear for him to be hurt, and I couldn't keep from hurting him, either. He thought time and patience would change me, and, though I knew he was dead wrong, I also knew that I would let him try.
He was my best friend. I would always love him, and it would never, ever be enough. I went inside to sit by the phone and bite my nails.
"Movie over already?" Charlie asked in surprise when I came in. He was on the floor, just a foot from the TV. Must be an exciting game.
"Mike got sick," I explained. "Some kind of stomach flu." "You okay?" "I feel fine now," I said doubtfully. Clearly, I'd been exposed.
I leaned against the kitchen counter, my hand inches from the phone, and tried to wait patiently. I thought of the strange look on Jacob's face before he drove away, and my fingers started drumming against the counter. I should have insisted on driving him home.
I watched the clock as the minutes ticked by Ten. Fifteen. Even when I was driving, it took only fifteen minutes, and Jacob drove faster than I did. Eighteen minutes. I picked up the phone and dialed.
It rang and rang. Maybe Billy was asleep. Maybe I'd dialed wrong. I tried again. On the eighth ring, just as I was about to hang up, Billy answered. "Hello?" he asked. His voice was wary, like he was expecting bad news. "Billy, it's me, Bella–did Jake make it home yet? He left here about twenty minutes ago." "He's here," Billy said tonelessly.