Eclipse - Meyer Stephenie (е книги TXT) 📗

I DIDN’T GET VERY FAR BEFORE DRIVING BECAME IMPOSsible.

When I couldn’t see anymore, I let my tires find the rough shoulder and rolled slowly to a stop. I slumped over on the seat and allowed the weakness I’d fought in Jacob’s room crush me. It was worse that I’d thought — the force of it took me by surprise. Yes, I had been right to hide this from Jacob. No one should ever see this.

But I wasn’t alone for very long — just exactly long enough for Alice to see me here, and then the few minutes it took him to arrive. The door creaked open, and he pulled me into his arms.

At first it was worse. Because there was that smaller part of me — smaller, but getting louder and angrier every minute, screaming at the rest of me — that craved a different set of arms. So then there was fresh guilt to season the pain.

He didn’t say anything, he just let me sob until I began to blubber out Charlie’s name.

“Are you really ready to go home?” he asked doubtfully.

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?”

I smiled just a bit at his correction, and then I sighed. “We are going to go see Alice.”

Alice was on the bottom porch step, too hyper to wait for us inside. She looked about to break into a celebration dance, so excited was she about the news she knew I was there to deliver.

“Thank you, Bella!” she sang as we got out of the truck.

“Hold it, Alice,” I warned her, lifting a hand up to halt her glee. “I’ve got a few limitations for you.”

“I know, I know, I know. I only have until August thirteenth at the latest, you have veto power on the guest list, and if I go overboard on anything, you’ll never speak to me again.”

“Oh, okay. Well, yeah. You know the rules, then.”

“Don’t worry, Bella, it will be perfect. Do you want to see your dress?”

I had to take a few deep breaths. Whatever makes her happy, I said to myself.

“Sure.”

Alice’s smile was smug.

“Um, Alice,” I said, keeping the casual, unruffled tone in my voice. “When did you get me a dress?”

It probably wasn’t much of a show. Edward squeezed my hand.

Alice led the way inside, heading for the stairs. “These things take time, Bella,” Alice explained. Her tone seemed . . . evasive. “I mean, I wasn’t sure things were going to turn out this way, but there was a distinct possibility. . . .”

“When?” I asked again.

“Perrine Bruyere has a waiting list, you know,” she said, defensive now. “Fabric masterpieces don’t happen overnight. If I hadn’t thought ahead, you’d be wearing something off the rack!”

It didn’t look like I was going to get a straight answer. “Per — who?”

“He’s not a major designer, Bella, so there’s no need to throw a hissy fit. He’s got promise, though, and he specializes in what I needed.”