The End

There was nothing to say to Jake. She didn't have words that would cover it.

x.x.x

When Bella sees him again, it's pure coincidence—both of them at the same gas station at the same time. She's buying gas, he's getting cigarettes. She can't remember him smoking before, but it's the least of the changes. He has new tattoos, smudges of blue under each eye, and there's a hardness in his expression that hadn't been there before. Bella wonders what it means—the new ink and the almost-sneer that twists his mouth. She wonders if she'd know if she'd gone to see him more often than that one time, a week after his father died.

She'd meant to do more. Meant to offer support, anyway. He wasn't really her friend anymore, but she felt like she owed him…

But she'd gotten caught up in the ease of having Edward and the rest of the Cullen's back in her life. It had felt fresh and new, and her time with Edward had been fun and light and a little giddy. They were both making up for the darkness of living without each other. And they were coming down off the high of almost dying at the hands of the Volturi.

There was nothing to say to Jake. She didn't have words that would cover it. Any of it. I'm sorry? What for? She hadn't done anything. And sorry, she'd learned a long time ago, never changed anything.

Nice to see you? It wasn't like she'd sought him out, or he her. It was just a coincidence, and she was acutely aware of the fact that she had made no effort to see him since that one visit almost three months ago.

How's it going? She wasn't sure she wanted to know. He'd changed—it was clear by the way he moved, the darkness in his eyes. She was afraid to know what he'd changed into.

But it's out of her hands when he catches her watching and strides over with a smooth, predatory walk that makes his previous strut seem comical in comparison. She misses it.

"Bella," he says, looking her up and down with disturbing intensity.

She smiles, distinctly uncomfortable. "Jake."

They stand there for a long moment, just staring at each other. Silence stretches awkwardly between them.

Finally, Jake turns away and Bella mobilizes suddenly, reaching out for one muscled arm. "Are you okay?" she asks in a rush, knowing it's the wrong thing to say.

He spins as soon as her fingers brush his arm, and he looks…savage. "Don't," he hisses, catching her wrist cruelly. He moves a little closer, threatening.

"Wha—" she says, shocked and suddenly afraid when she can't twist away. This isn't the Jake she knew.

He's close enough that she can feel his breath burst over her cheek. "Don't you dare pretend you give a shit!"

Her wrist is starting to ache, and he shows no signs of letting up. "Jake," she says, as evenly as she can manage. "You're hurting me."

He stares at her hand, then closes his eyes a moment before finally letting go. "Am I okay?" he asks, laughing bitterly. He shakes his head. "I'm working on it." His voice is rough, but not quite as hard as it had been. It's not much, but it's something.

Bella nods and he walks away. She watches every step.

He's far from okay.

But it's no longer her place.

Her place is beside Edward.