When Jacob walked in the house, I knew he was having trouble again. His face poorly masked the agony behind it, and his eyes were bleak, searching for something that wasn't there. Immediately, I made him a scalding cup of tea and handed him one of those Hershey's chocolate bars that are too big to be taken seriously as candy. Jake nodded his thanks and sank into the couch. I sat down beside him and stole a corner of the chocolate bar as he unwrapped it. "What happened?" I asked sympathetically. He shook his head tiredly.

"Nothing, really. I was just running around, doing my rounds, and then I caught her scent, and… it smelled like her." I nodded understandingly, knowing how hard Jacob had taken my mother's change into a vampire. Harder than he'd let on. In fact, he'd taken mostly everything harder than he'd let on.

I was a part of his mask. A puppet in his charade, though I didn't feel used. I was helping him, I hoped, if only to hide his pain from my mom.

Because Jacob hadn't imprinted on me- not really. When my mom, Bella Cullen, had become a vampire, he'd known that there was no way he could ever be with her- that she was now definitely past the point of no return. He still wanted to be with her, though, because although he'd given up, he still enjoyed her company. Actually, that's an understatement bordering on the line of an outright lie. Jacob was still in love with my mom.

Enter me- Renesmee Carlie Cullen. He had pretended to imprint on me. I didn't understand it then, and I had always felt the same way about him that I did my parents. He'd never been anything more than a caring older brother. Ever since I had become a vampire, though, we had acted differently. The day I had changed, he'd come to me and told me the truth.

"Renesmee," he'd said, and I remembered how I'd wondered at the use of my full name. "There's something I have to tell you… now that you're strong enough to beat me up." He'd grinned weakly.


"I didn't imprint on you." He'd said it suddenly, trying to get the words out. I hadn't been as surprised as perhaps he'd been expecting. Maybe a part of me had always known. I could remember the mixed relief I'd had when he'd told me: as if a heavy weight were being lifted from my shoulders, because I'd been worried about the fact that I still didn't feel about him the way everyone expected me to, but as if another, heavier weight was pressed onto my shoulders, because now we had to act and pretend, and hide this secret from even my dad, the telepath.

I was startled to realize that Jacob was crying. "Jake," I whispered, stroking his hair. "Oh, Jake…"

"Sorry," he said gruffly.

"Don't apologize for crying!" I told him, hugging him. "You need to get away from here, Jake. You need to get over her."

"I don't want to leave her, though," he replied. He had stopped crying, but hadn't dried the tearstains on his cheeks.

"That's exactly why you have to leave," I reminded him, pulling him up from the couch. He followed me meekly to the front door. I opened it and gestured outside. Ducking his head, he stepped outside and turned around to face me. The doorstep was raised, and we were now close to the same height. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and kissed him. "Go," I murmured. "Go be normal. Meet girls. Get over her." He smiled sadly.

"Love you, Nessie."

"Love you, too." I pecked him on the cheek, spun around, and shut the door.