New Moon - Stephenie Meyer [88]
All of this, coupled with the fact that I was dog-tired, did not put me in a friendly mood.
“Get out!” I hissed, putting as much venom into the whisper as I could.
He blinked, his face going blank with surprise.
“No,” he protested. “I came to apologize.”
“I don’t accept!”
I tried to shove him back out the window—after all, if this was a dream, it wouldn’t really hurt him. It was useless, though. I didn’t budge him an inch. I dropped my hands quickly, and stepped away from him.
He wasn’t wearing a shirt, though the air blowing in the window was cold enough to make me shiver, and it made me uncomfortable to have my hands on his bare chest. His skin was burning hot, like his head had been the last time I’d touched him. Like he was still sick with the fever.
He didn’t look sick. He looked huge. He leaned over me, so big that he blacked out the window, tongue-tied by my furious reaction.
Suddenly, it was just more than I could handle—it felt as if all of my sleepless nights were crashing down on me en masse. I was so brutally tired that I thought I might collapse right there on the floor. I swayed unsteadily, and struggled to keep my eyes open.
“Bella?” Jacob whispered anxiously. He caught my elbow as I swayed again, and steered me back to the bed. My legs gave out when I reached the edge, and I plopped into a limp heap on the mattress.
“Hey, are you okay?” Jacob asked, worry creasing his forehead.
I looked up at him, the tears not yet dried on my cheeks. “Why in the world would I be okay, Jacob?”
Anguish replaced some of the bitterness in his face. “Right,” he agreed, and took a deep breath. “Crap. Well...I—I’m so sorry, Bella.” The apology was sincere, no doubt about it, though there was still an angry twist to his features.
“Why did you come here? I don’t want apologies from you, Jake.”
“I know,” he whispered. “But I couldn’t leave things the way I did this afternoon. That was horrible. I’m sorry.”
I shook my head wearily. “I don’t understand anything.”
“I know. I want to explain—” He broke off suddenly, his mouth open, almost like something had cut off his air. Then he sucked in a deep breath. “But I can’t explain,” he said, still angry. “I wish I could.”
I let my head fall into my hands. My question came out muffled by my arm. “Why?”
He was quiet for a moment. I twisted my head to the side—too tired to hold it up—to see his expression. It surprised me. His eyes were squinted, his teeth clenched, his forehead wrinkled in effort.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
He exhaled heavily, and I realized he’d been holding his breath, too. “I can’t do it,” he muttered, frustrated.
“Do what?”
He ignored my question. “Look, Bella, haven’t you ever had a secret that you couldn’t tell anyone?”
He looked at me with knowing eyes, and my thoughts jumped immediately to the Cullens. I hoped my expression didn’t look guilty.
“Something you felt like you had to keep from Charlie, from your mom...?” he pressed. “Something you won’t even talk about with me? Not even now?”
I felt my eyes tighten. I didn’t answer his question, though I knew he would take that as a confirmation.
“Can you understand that I might have the same kind of...situation?” He was struggling again, seeming to fight for the right words. “Sometimes, loyalty gets in the way of what you want to do. Sometimes, it’s not your secret to tell.”
So, I couldn’t argue with that. He was exactly right—I had a secret that wasn’t mine to tell, yet a secret I felt bound to protect. A secret that, suddenly, he seemed to know all about.
I still didn’t see how it applied to him, or Sam, or Billy. What was it to them, now that the Cullens were gone?
“I don’t know why you came here, Jacob,