- •Eclipse Stephenie Meyer
- •237 Park Avenue, New York, ny 10017
- •I saw a dim glimmer of possibility in that smile, but I proceeded slowly. “I’m confused, Dad. Are we talking about Jacob, or Edward, or me being grounded?”
- •I leveled a dark look at him. “There’s no competition.”
- •I pointed to the thick envelope on the counter. “I just got my acceptance to the University of Alaska!”
- •I took a deep breath. “I need to make it better, Edward. I owe him that. And it’s one of Charlie’s conditions, anyway —”
- •I ignored the ribbing, my attention caught by his assumption — was he serious? “But I didn’t bring them back. Don’t you know?”
- •It didn’t take long to determine where my restlessness stemmed from.
- •In my head, I went through the conversation again. . . .
- •I wiped my hand dramatically across my forehead, and then pretended to wring my hair out.
- •I sighed. Of course Charlie was waiting to pounce.
- •I turned slowly to face him. His expression was perfectly smooth — impossible to read.
- •I frowned in confusion. “What don’t I know? Edward?”
- •I was vividly conscious of Edward, his arms still wrapped protectively around me, motionless as a stone. I shot a look at his face — it was calm, patient.
- •I did try. And surprisingly, there were other things almost as stressful to dwell on besides my status on the endangered species list. . . .
- •I stopped with one arm in my vest. I knew that look.
- •I clutched the papers in both hands as I stared at the picture beneath the caption. A lump rose in my throat.
- •I tried to compose my face so that he would go on. My nails were digging into my palms with the stress of the story, even though I knew it had turned out fine.
- •I shuddered; of course she would be back. Would Edward really tell me next time? I wasn’t sure. I’d have to keep an eye on Alice, to look for the signs that the pattern was about to repeat. . . .
- •It was disconcerting the way he said this, like it would be a good thing to have no vampires in Forks. My heart thumped unevenly at the emptiness of the picture he painted.
- •I growled unimpressively.
- •I glanced up and down his mammoth frame, trying to be unbiased. “Not exactly, I guess.”
- •I took a deep breath. “Sorry. Age is a touchy subject for me. That hit a nerve.”
- •I gasped. “Emily is Leah’s cousin?”
- •I frowned. “Did Jared tell you that? He shouldn’t have.”
- •I followed Angela up the stairs to her room. She kicked toys out of the way as she went. The house was unusually quiet.
- •I shrugged.
- •I gasped and his eyes opened. They were as cold and hard as night.
- •I frowned suspiciously. “Or . . . Is this something else altogether? Some vampires-and-werewolves-are-always-enemies nonsense? Is this just a testosterone-fueled —”
- •It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but it looked like her bone white face got paler.
- •I shook my head.
- •I trudged off to English. Without Edward, the day was guaranteed to be unbearable. I sulked through my first class, well aware that my attitude wasn’t helping anything.
- •I nodded cautiously.
- •I stared at his face, waiting for his eyes to open.
- •I stopped breathing. This wasn’t the kind of thing he usually allowed. Despite his cold hands, I felt suddenly warm. His lips moved in the hollow at the base of my throat.
- •I smiled. “Didn’t you find any mountain lions?”
- •I shuddered.
- •I cringed at my father’s name.
- •I winced, and Esme rubbed my shoulder.
- •I handed the phone to Edward; I hoped he could read the warning in my eyes.
- •I took it slowly, feeling confused.
- •I pulled away from him and ran to put the knife in the sink before I doused it with bleach.
- •I shuddered again. “What can we do?”
- •I stared at him blankly. “I do?”
- •I took the red helmet, weighing it in my hands. “I’ll look stupid.”
- •I didn’t mention it out loud, but the biggest difference between the two circumstances was that Renйe and Charlie had been on better terms.
- •I tucked the helmet under my arm and threw the jacket across the seat.
- •11. Legends
- •It was easier being with my Quileute friends than I’d expected.
- •I shrank a little closer to Jacob’s side. I saw the corner of his mouth twitch with humor, and his arm tightened around me.
- •I paused, one foot on the ground. “No, Jake. Get some rest, I’ll be fine.”
- •I sighed and let my eyes close in contentment, resting there in his hands.
- •I’d sobered up by then, so I nodded and struggled to keep the frown off my face.
- •I shuddered. “No.”
- •I shuddered.
- •I didn’t realize Alice had come to stand behind me again.
- •I looked only at her as I answered. My voice was just slightly louder than a whisper. “I could help.”
- •I felt my face slip into a pout. He laughed at my expression as he extricated himself from my arms and legs. He leaned against the counter next to me and put one arm lightly around my shoulders.
- •I watched his face carefully for any change in expression. His eyes tightened the tiniest bit.
- •I shook my head. “You’re impossible.”
- •I jerked away from him.
- •I held up my injured hand.
- •I heard Charlie heave himself off of the sofa. Jacob got to the hall first, and much more quietly, but Charlie was not far behind him. Jacob’s expression was alert and eager.
- •I wasn’t listening.
- •I stared down blankly at my hands. My left hand rested lightly on the dark brace I rarely thought about. My broken knuckle didn’t hurt much anymore.
- •I stared, still frozen in horror, at Alice’s new expression. Her face was alive with exultation, all the despair wiped clean from her perfect features.
- •18. Instruction
- •I stared at Edward, my eyes stretched wide. “They’re coming as wolves?”
- •I squinted toward the forest, seeing nothing.
- •I watched with anxious eyes as he waved Alice forward.
- •I watched Alice more carefully now.
- •I grimaced, trying to ignore her.
- •I reached my hand out, my fingers trembling slightly, and touched the red-brown fur on the side of his face.
- •Inspiration came swiftly. “Angela and Ben,” I decided at once. “At least that will get them out of town.”
- •I stared at Edward as he explained, my forehead creasing. He patted my arm.
- •I swayed on my feet. Edward put his arm around my waist, pulling me closer and supporting my weight.
- •If this was the only reaction to Jacob’s gift, I would take it gladly. “Whatever makes you happy.”
- •I tried to smile back at Jacob, swallowing against the lump in my throat. I didn’t seem to get it right.
- •It was after dark when we reached the house. In spite of that, the meadow was bright in the light shining from every window.
- •I began to feel cautiously optimistic. Perhaps getting what I wanted would not be as difficult as I’d expected it to be.
- •I shook my head against his chest, grimacing. “You’re just trying to distract me. Let’s get back to the subject.”
- •I twisted my head to kiss the palm of his hand.
- •I glared. “That’s not what I meant. I already know how strong you are. You didn’t have to break the furniture.”
- •I was wrong.
- •I shook my head, and laughed glumly. “You make me feel like a villain in a melodrama — twirling my mustache while I try to steal some poor girl’s virtue.”
- •I glared at him through narrowed eyes.
- •I rolled my eyes. “Very mature, Edward.”
- •I looked at Edward, and he was smiling; whatever was bugging Alice amused him.
- •I turned to Alice, worried now, but she didn’t look at me. Her bad mood hadn’t passed yet.
- •I grimaced in horror as she grabbed my left hand and then dropped it just as quickly.
- •I watched him carefully as he cleaned the gash, looking for some sign of distress. He continued to breathe evenly in and out, the same small smile on his lips.
- •I rolled my eyes. “Same old, same old.”
- •I took a slow breath before I spoke. “No. I’m pretty sure it’s because you can’t talk.”
- •22. Fire and ice
- •I stared at him in outrage. No wonder Edward was reacting this way.
- •I was too far gone to ask them to stop talking about me like I wasn’t there. The conversation had taken on a dreamlike quality to me, and I wasn’t sure I was really awake.
- •It took Jacob a minute. “Oh. Ugh. The third wife. Okay, I see your point.”
- •It was quiet again, and the tent held still for a few minutes. The wind seemed to have decided that it wasn’t going to flatten us after all, and was giving up the fight.
- •I winced, wondering what might have come out of my mouth in my sleep. The possibilities were horrifying.
- •I elbowed Edward in the ribs — probably giving myself a bruise.
- •I stretched my neck up, straining to reach my lips to the edge of his jaw. I couldn’t see into his eyes. He was staring up at the ceiling of the tent.
- •It would be no more than I deserved if I somehow lost them both.
- •It was a moment before I could speak, and still the only answer I could give him was, “Please.”
- •It stunned me when Edward chuckled reluctantly.
- •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.
- •I closed my eyes and shook my head in agony. The sharp nylon fibers of the tent floor scraped against my skin.
- •It would be quick — she had no time for games here — but it would be thorough. Something that it would be impossible to recover from. Something that even vampire venom could not repair.
- •Victoria jerked her chin toward Edward, wordlessly ordering the boy forward.
- •Victoria’s gaze zeroed in on the gap between us. It would take her less than a second to kill me — she only needed the tiniest margin of opportunity.
- •Victoria kicked something aside with a flick of her bare foot — the missile that had crippled her attack. It rolled toward me, and I realized what it was.
- •Victoria did not even flinch to the sound of her name. Her eyes did not flicker once toward her partner.
- •I nodded, trying to hide the sudden terror — how much more could I handle before I collapsed? “No reason to be afraid. Got it.”
- •I already had my story memorized and corroborated. “I don’t care. I want to be there when Jacob wakes up.”
- •I took a deep breath to steady myself. Jacob had begun healing too quickly, and some of his bones had set wrong. He’d been out cold for the process, but it was still hard to think about.
- •I turned back to the fridge so that he couldn’t see my face.
- •I bent down to get a frying pan out of the cupboard, and hid there an extra second or two.
- •I winced, but Charlie was so caught up in his story that he didn’t notice.
- •I bit my lip. I was never going to get through this. Why didn’t anyone ever try to kill me when I wanted to die?
- •It took me a minute to even understand. He babbled on, looking more and more awkward, until I got what he was saying. Then I hurried to reassure him.
- •I winced and nodded. “I’m so sorry.”
- •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.
- •I knew what he meant. “After.”
- •I managed to convey, after several attempts, that it wasn’t going to get any better anytime soon. I needed to get past Charlie before it got late enough for him to call Billy.
- •I smiled just a bit at his correction, and then I sighed. “We are going to go see Alice.”
- •I shook my head.
- •I repeated for him the conversation I had with Charlie last night before I’d gone to see Jacob.
- •It would be wrong to strike back. I knew that. I was biting my tongue. But she’d be sorry if she didn’t walk away. Now.
I managed to convey, after several attempts, that it wasn’t going to get any better anytime soon. I needed to get past Charlie before it got late enough for him to call Billy.
So he drove me home — for once not even getting close to my truck’s internal speed limit — keeping one arm wrapped tightly around me. The whole way, I fought for control. It seemed to be a doomed effort at first, but I didn’t give up. Just a few seconds, I told myself. Just time for a few excuses, or a few lies, and then I could break down again. I had to be able to do that much. I scrambled around in my head, searching desperately for a reserve of strength.
There was just enough for me to quiet the sobs — hold them back but not end them. The tears didn’t slow. I couldn’t seem to find any handle to even begin to work with those.
“Wait for me upstairs,” I mumbled when we were in front of the house.
He hugged me closer for one minute, and then he was gone.
Once inside, I headed straight for the stairs.
“Bella?” Charlie called after me from his usual place on the sofa as I walked by.
I turned to look at him without speaking. His eyes bugged wide, and he lurched to his feet.
“What happened? Is Jacob . . . ?” he demanded.
I shook my head furiously, trying to find my voice. “He’s fine, he’s fine,” I promised, my voice low and husky. And Jacob was fine, physically, which is all Charlie was worried about at the moment.
“But what happened?” He grabbed my shoulders, his eyes still anxious and wide. “What happened to you?”
I must look worse than I’d imagined.
“Nothing, Dad. I . . . just had to talk to Jacob about . . . some things that were hard. I’m fine.”
The anxiety calmed, and was replaced by disapproval.
“Was this really the best time?” he asked.
“Probably not, Dad, but I didn’t have any alternatives — it just got to the point where I had to choose. . . . Sometimes, there isn’t any way to compromise.”
He shook his head slowly. “How did he handle it?”
I didn’t answer.
He looked at my face for a minute, and then nodded. That must have been answer enough.
“I hope you didn’t mess up his recovery.”
“He’s a quick healer,” I mumbled.
Charlie sighed.
I could feel the control slipping.
“I’ll be in my room,” I told him, shrugging out from underneath his hands.
“’Kay,” Charlie agreed. He could probably see the waterworks starting to escalate. Nothing scared Charlie worse than tears.
I made my way to my room, blind and stumbling.
Once inside, I fought with the clasp on my bracelet, trying to undo it with shaking fingers.
“No, Bella,” Edward whispered, capturing my hands. “It’s part of who you are.”
He pulled me into the cradle of his arms as the sobs broke free again.
This longest of days seemed to stretch on and on and on. I wondered if it would ever end.
But, though the night dragged relentlessly, it was not the worst night of my life. I took comfort from that. And I was not alone. There was a great deal of comfort in that, too.
Charlie’s fear of emotional outbursts kept him from checking on me, though I was not quiet — he probably got no more sleep than I did.
My hindsight seemed unbearably clear tonight. I could see every mistake I’d made, every bit of harm I’d done, the small things and the big things. Each pain I’d caused Jacob, each wound I’d given Edward, stacked up into neat piles that I could not ignore or deny.
And I realized that I’d been wrong all along about the magnets. It had not been Edward and Jacob that I’d been trying to force together, it was the two parts of myself, Edward’s Bella and Jacob’s Bella. But they could not exist together, and I never should have tried.
I’d done so much damage.
At some point in the night, I remembered the promise I’d made to myself early this morning — that I would never make Edward see me shed another tear for Jacob Black. The thought brought on a round of hysteria which frightened Edward more than the weeping. But it passed, too, when it had run its course.
Edward said little; he just held me on the bed and let me ruin his shirt, staining it with salt water.
It took longer than I thought it would for that smaller, broken part of me to cry herself out. It happened, though, and I was eventually exhausted enough to sleep. Unconsciousness did not bring full relief from the pain, just a numbing, dulling ease, like medicine. Made it more bearable. But it was still there; I was aware of it, even asleep, and that helped me to make the adjustments I needed to make.
The morning brought with it, if not a brighter outlook, as least a measure of control, some acceptance. Instinctively, I knew that the new tear in my heart would always ache. That was just going to be a part of me now. Time would make it easier — that’s what everyone always said. But I didn’t care if time healed me or not, so long as Jacob could get better. Could be happy again.
When I woke up, there was no disorientation. I opened my eyes — finally dry — and met his anxious gaze.
“Hey,” I said. My voice was hoarse. I cleared my throat.
He didn’t answer. He watched me, waiting for it to start.
“No, I’m fine,” I promised. “That won’t happen again.”
His eyes tightened at my words.
“I’m sorry that you had to see that,” I said. “That wasn’t fair to you.”
He put his hands on either side of my face.
“Bella . . . are you sure? Did you make the right choice? I’ve never seen you in so much pain —” His voice broke on the last word.
But I had known worse pain.
I touched his lips. “Yes.”
“I don’t know. . . .” His brow creased. “If it hurts you so much, how can it possibly be the right thing for you?”
“Edward, I know who I can’t live without.”
“But . . .”
I shook my head. “You don’t understand. You may be brave enough or strong enough to live without me, if that’s what’s best. But I could never be that self-sacrificing. I have to be with you. It’s the only way I can live.”
He still looked dubious. I should never have let him stay with me last night. But I had needed him so much. . . .
“Hand me that book, will you?” I asked, pointing over his shoulder.
His eyebrows pulled together in confusion, but he gave it to me quickly.
“This again?” he asked.
“I just wanted to find this one part I remembered . . . to see how she said it. . . .” I flipped through the book, finding the page I wanted easily. The corner was dog-eared from the many times I’d stopped here. “Cathy’s a monster, but there were a few things she got right,” I muttered. I read the lines quietly, mostly to myself. “‘If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.’” I nodded, again to myself. “I know exactly what she means. And I know who I can’t live without.”
Edward took the book from my hands and flipped it across the room — it landed with a light thud on my desk. He wrapped his arms around my waist.
A small smile lit his perfect face, though worry still lined his forehead. “Heathcliff had his moments, too,” he said. He didn’t need the book to get it word perfect. He pulled me closer and whispered in my ear, “‘I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!’”
“Yes,” I said quietly. “That’s my point.”
“Bella, I can’t stand for you to be miserable. Maybe . . .”
“No, Edward. I’ve made a real mess of things, and I’m going to have to live with that. But I know what I want and what I need . . . and what I’m going to do now.”
“What are we going to do now?”