Jacob was close. Jacob had heard every word we'd said. Jacob was in agony.
The howl choked off into a peculiar gurgled sob, and then it was quiet again.
I did not hear his silent escape, but I could feel it - I could feel the absence I had wrongly assumed before, the empty space he left behind.
"Because your space heater has reached his limit," Edward answered quietly. "Truce over," he added, so low I couldn't be sure that was really what he'd said.
"Jacob was listening," I whispered. It wasn't a question.
"Yes."
"You knew."
"Yes."
I stared at nothing, seeing nothing.
"I never promised to fight fair," he reminded me quietly. "And he deserves to know."
My head fell into my hands.
"Are you angry with me?" he asked.
"Not you," I whispered. "I'm horrified at me."
"Don't torment yourself," he pleaded.
"Yes," I agreed bitterly. "I should save my energy to torment Jacob some more. I wouldn't want to leave any part of him unharmed."
"He knew what he was doing."
"Do you think that matters?" I was blinking back tears, and this was easy to hear in my voice. "Do you think I care whether it's fair or whether he was adequately warned? I'm hurting him. Every time I turn around, I'm hurting him again." My voice was getting louder, more hysterical. "I'm a hideous person."
He wrapped his arms tightly around me. "No, you're not."
"I am! What's wrong with me?" I struggled against his arms, and he let them drop. "I have to go find him."
"Bella, he's already miles away, and it's cold."
"I don't care. I can't just sit here." I shrugged off Jacob's parka, shoved my feet into my boots, and crawled stiffly to the door; my legs felt numb. "I have to - I have to . . ." I didn't know how to finishthe sentence, didn't know what there was to do, but I unzipped the door anyway, and climbed out into the bright, icy morning.
There was less snow than I would have thought after the fury of last night's storm. Probably it had blown away rather than melted in the sun that now shone low in the southeast, glancing off the snow that lingered and stabbing at my unadjusted eyes. The air still had a bite to it, but it was dead calm and slowly becoming more seasonable as the sun rose higher.
Seth Clearwater was curled up on a patch of dry pine needles in the shadow of a thick spruce, his head on his paws. His sand-colored fur was almost invisible against the dead needles, but I could see the bright snow reflect off his open eyes. He was staring at me with what I imagined was an accusation.
I knew Edward was following me as I stumbled toward the trees. I couldn't hear him, but the sun reflected off his skin in glittering rainbows that danced ahead of me. He didn't reach out to stop me until I was several paces into the forest shadows.
His hand caught my left wrist. He ignored it when I tried to yank myself free.
"You can't go after him. Not today. It's almost time. And getting yourself lost wouldn't help anyone, regardless."
I twisted my wrist, pulling uselessly.
"I'm sorry, Bella," he whispered. "I'm sorry I did that."
"You didn't do anything. It's my fault. I did this. I did everything wrong. I could have . . . When he . . . I shouldn't have . . . I . . . I . . ." I was sobbing.
"Bella, Bella."
His arms folded around me, and my tears soaked into his shirt.
"I should have - told him - I should - have said -" What? What could have made this right? "He shouldn't have - found out like this."
"Do you want me to see if I can bring him back, so that you can talk to him? There's still a little time," Edward murmured, hushed agony in his voice.
I nodded into his chest, afraid to see his face.
"Stay by the tent. I'll be back soon."
His arms disappeared. He left so quickly that, in the second it took me to look up, he was already gone. I was alone.
A new sob broke from my chest. I was hurting everyone today. Was there anything I touched that didn't get spoiled?
I didn't know why it was hitting me so hard now. It wasn't like I hadn't known this was coming all along. But Jacob had never reacted so strongly - lost his bold overconfidence and shown the intensity of his pain. The sound of his agony still cut at me, somewhere deep in my chest. Right beside it was the other pain. Pain for feeling pain over Jacob. Pain for hurting Edward, too. For not being able to watch Jacob go with composure, knowing that it was the right thing, the only way.
I was selfish, I was hurtful. I tortured the ones I loved.
I was like Cathy, like Wuthering Heights, only my options were so much better than hers, neither one evil, neither one weak. And here I sat, crying about it, not doing anything productive to make it right. Just like Cathy.
I couldn't allow what hurt me to influence my decisions anymore. It was too little, much too late, but I had to do what was right now. Maybe it was already done for me. Maybe Edward would not be able to bring him back. And then I would accept that and get on with my life. Edward would never see me shed another tear for Jacob Black. There would be no more tears. I wiped the last of them away with cold fingers now.
But if Edward did return with Jacob, that was it. I had to tell him to go away and never come back.
Why was that so hard? So very much more difficult than saying goodbye to my other friends, to Angela, to Mike? Why did that hurt? It wasn't right. That shouldn't be able to hurt me. I had what I wanted. I couldn't have them both, because Jacob could not be just my friend. It was time to give up wishing for that. How ridiculously greedy could any one person be?