Um, Bella? You've got a huge cut on your forehead, and it's gushing blood," he informed me. I clapped my hand over my head. Sure enough, it was wet and sticky. I could smell nothing but the damp moss on my face, and that held off the nausea. Oh, I'm so sorry, Jacob." I pushed hard against the gash, as if I could force the blood back inside my head. Why are you apologizing for bleeding?" he wondered as he wrapped a long arm around my waist and and pulled me to my feet.

You still owe me a yellow Porsche.

Don't worry, Mel. Miracles don't work that way. I'll never lose you. I'll never let you get away from me.

You think of me as a... living stone - hard and cold. That's true. We are set the way we are, and it is very rare for us to experience a real change. When that happens, as when Bella entered my life, it is a permanent change. There's no going back.

My life and his were twisted into a single strand. Cut one, and you cut both. If he were gone, I would not be able to live through that. If I were gone, he wouldn't live through it, either.

I wondered – would a bullet through my temple actually kill me or just leave a really big mess for me to clean up?

For one half second, I wondered what it would feel like to put my hand in the fire. What it would feel like when I burned.