“My dad died, I write. almost a year ago. Car accident. My hand is shaking; my eyes sting and fill. I add Not his fault before pushing the notebook and pen back across the table, wiping a hand across my cheeks.As he reads, my impulse is to reach out, grab the notebook, run outside, dump it in the trash, bury it in the snow, throw it under the wheels of a passing car - something, something, so I can go back fifteen seconds when this part ofme was still shut away and private. Then I look at Ravi's face again, and the normally white white whites of his eyes are pink. This causes major disruption to my ability to control the flow of my own tears. I see myself when I look at him right now: he's reflecting my sadness, my broken heart, back to me.He takes the pe, writes, and slides it over. You'd think it's something epic from the way it levels my heart. It isn't.I'm really sorry, Jill.Four little words.”

“I stop crying for a moment when light from the street steals into my bedroom as Silas gently pushes the curtain aside. He leans against the wall, arms folded across his bare chest and hair falling in front of his eyes. Almost silently, he moves to the tiny space between my bed and the wall and lowers himself to the floor. Raising his knees to his chest, he drops his head and reaches for my hand, running his thumb across my knuckles silently.I slide off the bed, sheets wrapped around my legs, and ease into his lap, tucking my face against his neck. He cradles me against him like he’s afraid to let me go. I know I should shy away, that I should climb back into my bed out of loyalty to my sister. But there’s something that locks me in place, something that won’t let me stray from the gentle rise and fall of his chest or from his arms, supporting me like I’m something precious as his lips brush across my forehead.Without speaking, we finally fall asleep.”

“That is what I thought of you, Ellie. Heartless, reckless, selfish, and cruel."He was back to shooting me when my armor was down. I turned my face away from him, not wanting to let him see the hurt in my eyes. He reached up and put his fingers under my chin, bringing my face forward again, forcing me to look at him."Beautiful, sad, wounded, and lost," he continued. "A freak, a work of art, a liar, and a lover."His gaze was starting to eat away at my insides. Razor-blade butterflies whirled in my heart."I hate you, Ellie Watt," he whispered, lips coming closer to mine, "because I still love you after all these years.”

“My brain instantly traveled back to my parents’ dining room table. I’d sat there every morning with my brain-storming notebook—my father’s idea—and I would do my homework or write song lyrics or journal on something I’d seen on the news. That was back when I’d been sure I was going to change the world.”

“He tells me its going to be okay until all the words blur together into a hum that makes me close my eyes and I start to go away and five, ten, fifteen minutes later, I'm aware of my hand sliding down his lap and then nothingness and then the gentle sensation of his index finger pressing into my open palm and then his hand is at my face, running his fingers across my skin and I'm so awake.”

“Jacob caught my arm with a shivering hand. "Please, Bella. I'm begging."His dark eyes were glistening with tears. A lump filled my throat."Jake, I have to―""You don't, though. You really don't. You could stay here with me. You could stay alive. For Charlie. For me."The engine of Carlisle's Mercedes purred; the rhythm of the thrumming spiked when Alice revved it impatiently.I shook my head, tears spattering from my eyes with the sharp motion. I pulled my arm free, and he didn't fight me."Don't die Bella," he choked out. "Don't go. Don't."What if I never saw him again?The thought pushed me past the silent tears; a sob broke out from my chest. I threw my arms around his waist and hugged for one too-short moment, burying my tear-wet face against his chest. He put his big hand on the back of my hair, as if to hold me here."Bye, Jake." I pulled his hand from my hair, and kissed his palm. I couldn't bear to look at his face. "Sorry," I whispered.”