"Is it? Is it really better than if I was still in the dark?"
"Don't you think you ought to know how you feel - just so that it doesn't take you by surprise someday when it's too late and you're a married vampire?"
I shook my head. "No - I didn't mean better for me. I meant better for you. Does it make things better or worse for you, having me know that I'm in love with you? When it doesn't make a difference either way. Would it have been better, easier for you, if I never clued in?"
He took my question as seriously as I'd meant it, thinking carefully before he answered. "Yes, it's better to have you know," hefinally decided. "If you hadn't figured it out . . . I'd have always wondered if your decision would have been different if you had. Now I know. I did everything I could." He dragged in an unsteady breath, and closed his eyes.
This time I did not - could not - resist the urge to comfort him. I crossed the small room and kneeled by his head, afraid to sit on the bed in case I jostled it and hurt him, and leaned in to touch my forehead to his cheek.
Jacob sighed, and put his hand on my hair, holding me there.
"I'm so sorry, Jake."
"I always knew this was a long shot. It's not your fault, Bella."
"Not you, too," I moaned. "Please."
He pulled away to look at me. "What?"
"It is my fault. And I'm so sick of being told it's not."
He grinned. It didn't touch his eyes. "You want me to haul you over the coals?"
"Actually . . . I think I do."
He pursed his lips as he measured how much I meant it. A smile flashed across his face briefly, and then he twisted his expression into a fierce scowl.
"Kissing me back like that was inexcusable." He spit the words at me. "If you knew you were just going to take it back, maybe you shouldn't have been quite so convincing about it."
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."