I Never Meant to Start a War

I hardly slept that night. I would have assumed that exhaustion would have taken over once my head hit the pillow and my eyes slipped shut, but sleep never came. I laid there curled and tucked into warm sheets that had seen the light of many days, figuratively, and I crushed myself into a ball to savor the small amount of warmth in the room. I hadn’t closed the window that Jasper had opened. For whatever reason, closing that window felt like I would be closing him out forever. The metaphor made me uneasy; I was not ready to do that just yet.

My pillow was stained with my tears and my fingernails were bitten to the nubs by the time the clock showed six thirty, and the muted rustling of my parents began downstairs. I waited until they were gone.

When they left, I sat up.

I dressed.

I glanced in the mirror to see my disheveled appearance, the puff of red underneath of my eyes, the black bruise-like discoloration that would probably appear from another sleepless, exhausting night, and the marks my teeth had made biting into my lips in an attempt to silence the sobs. I splashed water on my face and moved on.

Acting like a robot was a good way to get through a restless but overwhelming morning like this morning. But, eventually, the world began to wake with the sun, and, eventually, I had to snap out of my pity-party and become a functional human being.

Feeling like you’ve lost everything hurts, but I rationalized that sitting there and feeling sorry for myself wouldn’t make the pain go away.

I paced the downstairs of my home, weighing my small, slightly outdated cell phone in my hands as I moved, considering what I aimed to do. Finally, I flipped the phone open and dialed the number with steady fingers, listening to two rings of the dial tone. I glanced to the clock, anxious, thinking that I might have been calling at a bad time . . .

He answered. “Marie.”

I stood up a little straighter. “Edward.”

Just at the name, I felt my lips curl distastefully, for the hatred in my veins to pulse with an obvious vigor. I felt it pounding like the rush of blood to a fresh bruise—fresh, new, and very, very raw. I took a deep breath and stepped up to bat.

“I’m sure you’ve heard what happened,” I said, knowing that he had either heard it verbally or mentally. “And I want you to answer one question. Just one.”

I knew he didn’t like me because of all of the drama I caused, but I only hoped that he was learning to dislike himself because of the same reason. He had only hurt instead of helped.

That probably was the main reason why he slowly said to me, “That depends on the question.”

“Will he really start a war?” I asked, without hesitation. He didn’t verbally react to the words, and I couldn’t tell if there was a reaction at all. Eventually, though, I heard him sigh.

“It’s too soon to give a resolute answer,” he responded honestly. “On one hand, he resents the mutt as well as he should, and he would give anything to get his hands on him for just a moment. But on the other, more bothersome hand is his loyalty toward Carlisle and the peace and order he sees in the world, and his faith in Jasper that keeps him from crossing that treaty line. His thoughts waver on the decisions when I am within hearing range, which is the time he exclusively attempts not to think of anything to do with it. He wants to fight, but the treaty is stopping him. I, personally, am afraid that, soon, that won’t be enough to stop him.”

It was until I felt the ache in my chest and the panic in my brain that I realized I had stopped breathing.

“Okay,” I breathed, squeezing my eyes shut. “He’s basically given me an ultimatum—how long do you assume he’s willing to wait?”

“Not long,” Edward’s immediate answer came. He sounded sure enough that I knew Jasper had been thinking of it as often as he had been weighing his options, only this situation came with much more clarity.

I ran a hand through my hair. “Do I have any chance of stopping him?”

He sensed that this was a trick question as I had, and I heard him sigh.

“Look,” he said, “you’ve done some things that I don’t like, but I have, too, so I am going to speak to you honestly for a moment. From Jasper’s thoughts, you admitted that you loved the mutt. I know without asking that, despite everything that has accidently fallen into place, you also unconditionally love my brother. Him giving you this ultimatum isn’t his way of forcing your hand, Marie, but rather seeing strengths.”

“I don’t follow,” I told him.

“He wants to see which one of them will be strong enough,” he sighed, “to let you go, if need be. He is testing his emotional strength for now, something he had never before questioned. Do you see the logic in this?”

I did. Jasper was testing the boundaries of love before he acted, either a wise or foolish move. He wanted to see if he really loved me enough to let me go before he acted out again; he wanted to see if Paul loved me more, to see if he really had to put up a fight to begin with. Jasper was testing the water. He hadn’t made a decision yet because no one else had.

“Why are you telling me this,” I asked, “if you dislike me as intensely as you do?”

“Because I don’t want to see my brother die, or kill, for pride,” Edward replied.

I flinched, but said nothing. “He will not wait long to see who loves me more.”

“I know. He also doesn’t realize that imprinting is strong, even if his love for you is, too. The mutt, no matter who you pick, he will love you forever. I’ve seen into imprinting. I know.” He sounded sorrowful, like his brother had already lost, like his brother was already gone.

“I’m not going to tell Paul.”

“It’s best not to. I assume that we both know what his response would be.”

Edward might not know Paul, but, like he said, he knew imprinting. And Paul would not be the first to give me up if there was a way he could keep me.

The two of us sat in a silence for a while, alone in our own thoughts. But, eventually, I knew that the temporary white flag between him and I would have to end, so I ended it myself.
“Let me know if you can,” I said to him, asking for a promise, but knowing he might not. He caught the way I was signing off of the phone call, and responded accordingly.

“Don’t let them chose for you, Marie,” Edward said.

~*~

Next, I called Emily Young.

We had only spoken informally once, and that had been when I had poured out my heart and soul for her on the car ride that lasted less than five minutes. She had always seemed like a warm, caring, compassionate person. I think that was why I felt so confident in letting her see into my reasoning before I let anyone else.

She answered promptly. “Hello?”

“Emily,” I said, “It’s Marie. I know I am more than likely not the first person you would want to converse with, but I was wondering if I could ask your opinion on something.”

She fell silent, so silent that I checked to make sure the line hadn’t disconnected. When I returned the phone to my ear, she began to speak. “Of course,” she said, sounding surprised, but happy at the same time. “I know what it’s like to need someone to talk to. You can tell me anything.”

I didn’t ask if anyone could hear us, because I was sure that, if I had, I would have managed to talk myself out of it in that same moment. I forced myself to jump into it, as I had with my previous conversation with Edward.

“The decision isn’t getting easier,” I told her, brutally honest with someone I hardly knew. “Now that Jasper has blatantly told me that I have to chose, and the possibility of this getting out of hand is hanging above my head, I don’t know what I can do to make everything right.”

“I don’t think it will ever feel fully right,” Emily announced honestly, “because someone is going to have to walk away from this heartbroken. It’s the kind of situation where you have to look at what it’s going to be like five years from now. Will you regret the decision? Have you ever been happier? Forever or eternity?”

Forever or eternity?

I fell short. There wasn’t a way I could answer to that.

A good five minutes passed between us in silence until Emily finally had to break the silence.

“Marie,” Emily said slowly. “I know I’m supposed to have a side, but this is going to be my most unbiased point of view—pick the one that will always make you happy. The one where you can forget everything and can just live life with. I did. And I don’t regret a second of the heartache.”

I didn’t ask what she meant, and I suppose that it didn’t matter.

“Listen to your heart, Marie. Not reason, not guilt, not anything else. Your heart.” I could feel Emily’s smile. “Why? Because your heart never lies.”

Later that day, when the night began to fall and I found myself laying in bed with the smooth, chilly wind of the night air caress my exposed skin, I knew what my heart was saying. And I knew that Emily was right—that was the only thing that mattered.