I winced and nodded. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t make anything better, Bella. What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” I whispered.

“You should have told me to go die. That’s what you want.”

“No, Jacob,” I whimpered, fighting against the budding tears. “No! Never.”

“You’re not crying?” he demanded, his voice suddenly back to its normal tone. He twitched impatiently on the bed.

“Yeah,” I muttered, laughing weakly at myself through the tears that were suddenly sobs.

He shifted his weight, throwing his good leg off the bed as if he were going to try to stand.

“What are you doing?” I demanded through the tears. “Lie down, you idiot, you’ll hurt yourself!” I jumped to my feet and pushed his good shoulder down with two hands.

He surrendered, leaning back with a gasp of pain, but he grabbed me around my waist and pulled me down on the bed, against his good side. I curled up there, trying to stifle the silly sobs against his hot skin.

“I can’t believe you’re crying,” he mumbled. “You know I just said those things because you wanted me to. I didn’t mean them.” His hand rubbed against my shoulders.

“I know.” I took a deep, ragged breath, trying to control myself. How did I end up being the one crying while he did the comforting? “It’s all still true, though. Thanks for saying it out loud.”

“Do I get points for making you cry?”

“Sure, Jake.” I tried to smile. “As many as you want.”

“Don’t worry, Bella, honey. It’s all going to work out.”

“I don’t see how,” I muttered.

He patted the top of my head. “I’m going to give in and be good.”

“More games?” I wondered, tilting my chin so that I could see his face.

“Maybe.” He laughed with a bit of effort, and then winced. “But I’m going to try.”

I frowned.

“Don’t be so pessimistic,” he complained. “Give me a little credit.”

“What do you mean by ‘be good’?”

“I’ll be your friend, Bella,” he said quietly. “I won’t ask for more than that.”

“I think it’s too late for that, Jake. How can we be friends, when we love each other like this?”

He looked at the ceiling, his stare intent, as if he were reading something that was written there. “Maybe . . . it will have to be a long-distance friendship.”

I clenched my teeth together, glad he wasn’t looking at my face, fighting against the sobs that threatened to overtake me again. I needed to be strong, and I had no idea how. . . .

“You know that story in the Bible?” Jacob asked suddenly, still reading the blank ceiling. “The one with the king and the two women fighting over the baby?”

“Sure. King Solomon.”

“That’s right. King Solomon,” he repeated. “And he said, cut the kid in half . . . but it was only a test. Just to see who would give up their share to protect it.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

He looked back at my face. “I’m not going to cut you in half anymore, Bella.”

I understood what he was saying. He was telling me that he loved me the most, that his surrender proved it. I wanted to defend Edward, to tell Jacob how Edward would do the same thing if I wanted, if I would let him. I was the one who wouldn’t renounce my claim there. But there was no point in starting an argument that would only hurt him more.

I closed my eyes, willing myself to control the pain. I couldn’t impose that on him.

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.”