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.