I bit my lip. I was never going to get through this. Why didn’t anyone ever try to kill me when I wanted to die?

The wry humor left his face, and his eyes warmed up. His forehead creased, like he was worried.

“How about you?” he asked, sounding really concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” I stared at him. Maybe he had taken too many drugs. “Why?”

“Well, I mean, I was pretty sure that he wouldn’t actually hurt you, but I wasn’t sure how bad it was going to be. I’ve been going a little crazy with worrying about you ever since I woke up. I didn’t know if you were going to be allowed to visit or anything. The suspense was terrible. How did it go? Was he mean to you? I’m sorry if it was bad. I didn’t mean for you to have to go through that alone. I was thinking I’d be there. . . .”

It took me a minute to even understand. He babbled on, looking more and more awkward, until I got what he was saying. Then I hurried to reassure him.

“No, no, Jake! I’m fine. Too fine, really. Of course he wasn’t mean. I wish!”

His eyes widened in what looked like horror. “What?”

“He wasn’t even mad at me — he wasn’t even mad at you! He’s so unselfish it makes me feel even worse. I wish he would have yelled at me or something. It’s not like I don’t deserve . . . well, much worse that getting yelled at. But he doesn’t care. He just wants me to be happy.”

“He wasn’t mad?” Jacob asked, incredulous.

“No. He was . . . much too kind.”

Jacob stared for another minute, and then he suddenly frowned. “Well, damn!” he growled.

“What’s wrong, Jake? Does it hurt?” My hands fluttered uselessly as I looked around for his medication.

“No,” he grumbled in a disgusted tone. “I can’t believe this! He didn’t give you an ultimatum or anything?”

“Not even close — what’s wrong with you?”

He scowled and shook his head. “I was sort of counting on his reaction. Damn it all. He’s better than I thought.”

The way he said it, though angrier, reminded me of Edward’s tribute to Jacob’s lack of ethics in the tent this morning. Which meant that Jake was still hoping, still fighting. I winced as that stabbed deep.

“He’s not playing any game, Jake,” I said quietly.

“You bet he is. He’s playing every bit as hard as I am, only he knows what he’s doing and I don’t. Don’t blame me because he’s a better manipulator than I am — I haven’t been around long enough to learn all his tricks.”

“He isn’t manipulating me!”

“Yes, he is! When are you going to wake up and realize that he’s not a perfect as you think he is?”

“At least he didn’t threaten to kill himself to make me kiss him,” I snapped. As soon as the words were out, I flushed with chagrin. “Wait. Pretend that didn’t slip out. I swore to myself that I wasn’t going to say anything about that.”

He took a deep breath. When he spoke, he was calmer. “Why not?”

“Because I didn’t come here to blame you for anything.”

“It’s true, though,” he said evenly. “I did do that.”

“I don’t care, Jake. I’m not mad.”

He smiled. “I don’t care, either. I knew you’d forgive me, and I’m glad I did it. I’d do it again. At least I have that much. At least I made you see that you do love me. That’s worth something.”

“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,” he finally 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.”