I Never Meant to Start a War

Bella and I eventually lost touch. I couldn’t be surprised, since I had all but palpably disentangled myself from the Cullen family. The summer progressed, and the last time I had heard from my friend was in passing, when she called to tell me that Jasper hadn’t come home, that he wasn’t going to be coming back anytime soon. The last thing I had told her was that I already knew. I had smiled and said that, eventually, he would come home. She hadn’t said anything, just walked away from me and the life I had chosen.

I didn’t mind. I found a best friend in Kim and Emily, too, and they would always be there to support me through anything that I needed them to. I found a difference between Kim and Bella—and I couldn’t regret losing a best friend because we both picked different paths in our lives to follow, and I couldn’t regret it because we had chosen to grow apart for our happiness and nothing more. I couldn’t learn to regret something that changed the perspective of my life permanently.

Summer passed.

I spent nearly all of my free time with Paul and Kim and Jared in La Push. The latter two had managed to overlook their slight distrust as the pack open-mindedly began to look at me, and the two were more than happy for Paul and I. Paul and Jared did share a little bit of unease, probably wondering if Kim and I were going to plot against them some day, but we were the imprints. They did as we wanted.

They always wanted to see us smile.

I knew I had made the right choice.

Paul could make me happier than Jasper ever could, because Paul gave me everything I had always yearned for—a family I wasn’t blood related to, a love that would never die, and a smile that would never fall. Paul gave me peace.

I thought about this at the breakfast table a mid-August Sunday morning, my parents and I sitting in silence. My fork chased pieces of hash brown around my plate as my mother watched me, a smirk hinting at the corners of her mouth. I probably should have been able to assume what was going to come next.

“So,” she said, “who’s the new boy toy?”

I choked on orange juice.

“Loraine, don’t scare the poor kid,” my father chided without looking up from his newspaper. My mother’s eyes never left me for a moment as I tried to breathe.

I felt my face burn as I replied, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t try to lie—your father and I saw him dropping you off last night. Why you wouldn’t tell us, I don’t know . . .”

I didn’t tell them mainly because I didn’t want them to regard him as a sudden rebound from Jasper and his unusual departure, which I told them was him leaving for university and I broke it off because of personal reasons. When Paul stepped through the threshold to meet them, I didn’t want them seeing him as someone that was going to be gone soon. I wanted them to see him as I did, as the person that would hold me to the world for the rest of my life.

I maneuvered awkwardly in my chair, not quite sure how to put that into platonic words. “Um—”

“When are we going to meet him?” my mother began her inquisition. “What’s his name? He’s from La Push, isn’t he? Is he the reason you’ve been down there all summer? I knew it, I knew that it was a boy. How old is he? Not too old, I hope. He looked like he was in his twenties when we saw him, and although you’re almost eighteen, that’s very unlike you. And also, one last question: was he the reason you left Jasper?”

Feeling like I had been punched in the stomach and left to catch my breath, I gaped at my mother, who was usually the kind of person never to pry into personal things such as boyfriends or where I spent most of my time.

“And don’t leave a question unanswered,” my father chimed in, finally looking up. “She practiced this script all night, and now I’m curious.

“Uh,” I replied, eloquence gone. “I mean, I guess you could meet him today if you want to. I think he’s coming to pick me up—him, me, Kim, and her boyfriend are going to Port Angeles. Yes, he’s from La Push, and no, he’s not in his twenties—he graduated in June. His name is Paul.” My heart jumped at the sound of his name, but I acted like I didn’t notice, looking awkwardly between both of parents. They looked as though they were sitting in a job meeting and had to commit everything to memory. I felt my cheeks start to burn bright again at their unwavering focus.

My mother punched my father’s arm for whatever reason, and he rolled his eyes.

“You didn’t answer the most important question,” my mother announced finally. “You didn’t tell us if he was the reason why you left Jasper.”

I didn’t answer the question mainly because I knew the answer, and was almost ashamed of it. I glanced down at my plate but the food looked anything but appetizing to my twisting stomach. I pushed it away as I leaned back in the chair, my arms hugging myself.

It was a whole other thing than knowing the answer than announcing that you knew.

Slowly, like it was the hardest thing I had ever done in a lifetime, I nodded, looking away from their searching eyes.

Through the morning light, my mother asked, “Does he make you happy?”

“Yes,” I answered immediately, feeling the smile in my eyes come back at full shine. “Maybe even more than Jasper ever did.”

“Then,” my father said, “I’ll go put the shotgun away.”

“You deserve to be happy,” my mother told me, completely ignoring my father’s chance at humor. I started to smile at them but was interrupted by whatever they would have said by the doorbell ringing, announcing the arrival of the person they had just been speaking about. My mother shot up and ran to the door faster than I would have thought her capable of and I shot my father an alarmed look. He just rolled his eyes.

Voices came from the hall, but I couldn’t make much out other than Paul’s amusement as I scrambled to grab my phone and finish my orange juice, running out and intercepting him from my mother by grabbing his wrist and forcefully dragging him away. Him and my mother laughed at me as I tried to save my face from exploding with the amount of blood searing in my cheeks, tugging him to the car and only letting him go to climb into the passenger seat and duck so low that I was sure only my forehead could be seen from the dashboard. Paul waved goodbye to my mother and flashed her a grin before getting in the truck, a sparkle in his eye.

“You’re mom’s funny,” he told me.

I just groaned.

Knowing my mother, her first words to him would be, “Did you know that Marie wanted to be a nudist when she was five?”

He caught the sigh that came after and glanced to me with a frown. “I think it’s only fair—you’ve met my mom.”

“But you’re mom isn’t out to terrorize you.”

“Oh, trust me,” he laughed. “I’ve heard a lot from my mom about you. All positive, unless it’s about me screwing up. Then it’s usually her wagging her finger at me and telling me not to cheat on you or she’ll kick my ass.”

I smiled, which accomplished his goal, because he relaxed into his seat and took a more comfortable hold on the steering wheel. One of his hands slipped over and took mine in his secure and warm hold, making my heart heat up to a heat that made the chill of my memories melt and made new suns fall in their place. I wrapped my fingers around his and closed my eyes, feeling that feeling of belonging no matter what. That was the only way I could ever feel in his arms.

Despite everything we have gone through, Paul has been just about everything to me. He’s been the one thing to question the perfection I saw, he was the one I yearned for when the lights went out instead of a cold embrace, he was the one to show me the way that not everything has to last forever. A lifetime is plenty of time to spend smiling.

I think he noticed me staring at him, lost in my thoughts, because he turned his head and met my gaze for a long moment before turning back to the road, a matching grin on his face. “What?”

“Nothing,” I whispered. It felt uplifting to know that I could smile at him and look at him and not have a reason. He was mine and I was his. We were one.

He imprinted on me all of those months ago not to tip the balance between two supernatural forces but to show me the truth behind them both. The vampires may have been beautiful and perfect, but not everyone is perfect. It took that inequality of power to realize who my real friends were and who was too blinded by his emotions to see reasons. The werewolves might not have been open to me, but they’ve come to embrace me with open arms since then. Sure, it may have been because of the sudden vampire decrease in the area, but any form of welcoming is cherished by me. I’ve never felt like no one wanted me there, unlike when I went to the Cullen house, where I felt the scorning glares of all of the people that saw me as the weak human that stole Jasper from Alice Cullen. Maybe I was.

All I know is that I would have never seen that world quite so clearly if I hadn’t questioned my loyalty and my heart. I doubt I’ll ever regret a moment of it.

Paul imprinted on me when he saw me so that I could see him, too. I will never forget that moment on the way to Sam Uley’s house. I’ll never forget how I found the one piece of my life that I couldn’t bear to lose.

It took me until we pulled into a familiar driveway that I realized we weren’t going to Port Angeles.

“Change of plans?” I questioned as Paul let go of my hand, slipping out of the car. I opened my door and he walked over to it, reaching out and taking my hand as quickly as he could reach for it. He shot me his signature grin.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’d rather go somewhere close to home.”

And that’s what it was now. Home.

He paused on his way up to the cabin, though, to suddenly turn around and take me into his arms, pressing his lips down on mine with a smile tilted onto them. Suddenly my feet were off the ground and we were spinning, my arms were around his neck and holding me to him, and I was smiling too.

I wouldn’t trade this in for anything.

Paul set me down on my feet only to pull me closer, reaching up to cup my face in his hands as he leaned down and stole a soft kiss. When he pulled back only inches, the lights in his eyes were at a celestial glow as he whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I told him with my whole heart, looking into his eyes and feeling the smile on my face. “Always and forever.”

He took me into his arms tightly for a moment and then pulled away, tugging me to the door. “Come on,” he said, “you and your make-out scenes are giving my friends a show.”

He boomed out at a laugh as I gaped at him, but I ruined the effect by laughing along, my heart squeezing because of memories of long ago. But that was a different situation and time. This was Paul and now, with the paths of the rest of my life laid out for me to take. I chose one.

I took his hand and smiled.