I was huddled, half-naked, on the beach when Sam found me.
"Jacob," he said. "We've been worried about you."
I nodded, but did not speak. What was there left to say anyways?
"Come home," his voice is sad, but also full of authority.
I stood up. I knew it was time for me to go home; I just wasn't sure where that was anymore.
"Where, Sam? Where am I supposed to go?" I asked him, my voice trembling.
"I don't know."
She was my home, my life, my love, my Bella, but I could not go where she was.
"It's not too late, Jacob. Go home. Go to Bella," he ordered.
Before the words were even out of his mouth, I phased and ran as fast as I could. Borders be damned.
Voices and images fill my head, but I ignore them. All I see is Bella, all I hear is Bella, and all I feel is Bella.
"I'm coming home," I tell the silence.
I'm not fast enough, though. I'm at the edge of the woods when the screams start, and it's all I can hear, all I will ever hear.
Weeks pass by and life goes on. I try to convince everyone that I'm fine, that I don't wake myself up screaming every night, that I don't still care about her.
But there are no secrets in a wolf pack.