Dear Reader—

So it's been over a year. But I am finishing this. I decided that I would end it when I began writing Storms when I was thirteen. And so I will.

I'm dedicating the whole thing to icrodriguez for being a rock. I hope this is an ending she'll be able to live with.

Jenny kissed me when we met,
Jumping from the chair she sat in;
Time, you thief, who love to get
Sweets into your list, put that in!
Say I'm weary, say I'm sad,
Say that health and wealth have missed me,
Say I'm growing old, but add,
Jenny kissed me.

...

Love is a beautiful and selfish thing. Love is a blessing but love is a disability. Once you have it you'll be loathe to let it go for anything because without it you're in hell. It's your lifeline; it's the reason you get up in the morning and it's what delays your sleep at night. But it cripples you. It makes you dependant.

...

Jacob Black lies in bed alone, staring at his ceiling and alternately wiping away tears and punching holes in his mattress. The curtains are torn from where a particularly violent burst of fury caused an unexpected transformation. There is a long rip in the wallpaper from the window to the floor and shattered glass leaks from a photo frame lying face down on the carpet.

He's struggling with three emotions.

1.) Love.

Love and longing for the tiny little seed of hope which is growing and growing and turning into a little bit of him. At first the idea of a tie to her utterly repulsed him; but as he began to feel the sharp pangs of loneliness this repulsion disappeared. That little bundle of possibility was a beacon of light in an otherwise dark future.

2.) Hate.

Hatred so hot and volatile that it bursts up within him with such intensity that he can barely comprehend it. Hatred like he has never felt, hatred that makes his hands shake and his fists curl. He can't be near her anymore. He can't take it.

3.) Confusion.

Confusion about how love can be bundled up inside hate. How he can get that love out safely and take it away from the hate, that hatred, that poisonous bitch?

...

Edward sits on the windowsill of their bedroom, staring at Bella as she sleeps. It seems he loves her more with each of her breaths, each rise and fall of her chest. He aches to be with her, to hold her without freezing her, to touch her and kiss her and love her without fear. He longs for the night where they can lie with their legs tangled together and their breaths coming hard and fast, fingers curled in each others hair and o-shaped smiles on their faces. Just thinking about it drives him mad. He closes his eyes.

He is overwhelmed by the incredible selfishness of love. He wants nothing more than for Jacob Black and all the complications he comes with to disappear into the air. He wants all trace of that dog gone from the body of his Isabella. He wants rid of any reminder that there was a time that she wasn't entirely his.

He hates himself for it. He knows this is all his fault, that he tipped the first domino of these events and there's nobody more to blame than himself.

He opens his eyes and looks at Bella, her hair curling around her face and her lips slightly parted.

Whatever happens he's keeping her. He doesn't care about whether that's the right thing to do or whether that makes him a good or a bad person. Because she's his and he loves her and that means there's nothing more to be done.

...

Bella is walking along the streets of Cawdor with her head down and her jacket held tight around her. She had told Edward she needed to be alone to think. She told him she had something to do. He had bitten his lip and nodded, and then thrown her an apple and asked her to at least have some sort of breakfast. The same apple is lying uneaten in a ditch a mile from the house.

She had spent about two hours walking down the hill thinking and thinking and then she had sat down, got some paper and a pen out of her pocket and started to write. She had sat writing for about half an hour, and then caught the bus into Cawdor. She hadn't allowed herself to cry but the decision she had come to had left her feeling empty.

She turned the corner on to her old street and walked quickly along it, turning up her old drive to her old house and not looking at it. She pinned the note to the door and stepped back. She drew a breath and look a last look at her home. Then she turned and ran away.

Jake—

Okay, don't screw this up, you need to read it.

I want to begin by saying sorry, useless as that is. I know that you hate me, and I don't blame you because what I've done is hideous. I used you until I got what I wanted and if I ever do die I'm going straight to hell and I'll deserve it.

Love is a manipulative bitch. Or maybe I'm the manipulative bitch. Either way I can't leave Edward again because I love him and I could never hurt him like that. And I know that you wouldn't want me anyway.

But there's another thing that I can't do, and I can't lose the little person we accidentally made. I promised you I wouldn't and I don't want to. But I don't want to force myself back onto you because you need a clean break and you deserve that. And the life I'm about to choose isn't compatible with a child anyway; it's too secret a world to let a kid in on.

I know you'll be the best Dad in the world, because you're the warmest, most kind-hearted and wonderful person I've ever met.

It will break my heart to let it go but I guess it's the least I deserve. And it gives you something to love. Just when it grows up, makes sure it knows I love it. Not it, that sounds odd. He. She.

Be in touch,

love

Bella xxx

...

She told Edward what she had decided to do. He held her tight as she cried. He whispered in her ear.

He told her that he loved her and that she loved him, and that Jacob would love that little baby.

He told her that no matter what they had to do to stay together, no matter how terrible she felt or how much she hated herself he would always, always love her.

He told her that with so much love around everything would be okay in the end.

.

Just the epilogue to go now, guys. It's longer, promise. xxx