"Bella, I don't want you to come with me." He spoke the words slowly and precisely, his cold eyes on my face, watching as I absorbed what he was really saying.
There was a pause as I repeated the words in my head a few times, sifting for their real intent.
"You . . . don't . . . want me?" I tried out the words, confused by the way they sounded, placed in that order.
. . .
"Take care of yourself," he breathed, cool against my skin. There was a light, unnatural breeze. My eyes flashed open. The leaves on a small vine maple shuddered with the gentle wind of his passing.
He was gone.
-New Moon, pages 61-65
Disclaimer - I don't own Twilight. If I did I would have made a lot of changes.