Sam's POV
I know something big has happened when you walk in with a smile on your face. Right there, I just know something is going on. You never smile and you never come over willingly.
Yet, here you are, in my home, sitting in my living room. You're talking and smiling and laughing, enjoying your life.
I miss that laugh. I used to hear it all the time. I'm the one who used to make you laugh like that. Not a forced one. A simple, carefree, true laugh. Now I have to be at the right place at the right time to even see you smile, let alone laugh.
Still, you're here. Smiling, laughing, enjoying yourself with my wife. Without him. Without Jacob.
I stand back in the doorway and just watch you. You're different from when I last saw you three years ago.
You were gone for three years. Three years.
I was worried; you just up and left. No note, car gone...poof. You disappeared. I had no idea where you were. I didn't know if you were okay, or if you were alive. Not knowing killed me.
Nobody knew where you were.
No one mentioned a thing to me.
But he knew. You told him. Jacob. I know that you told him because he left to find you the day after. He didn't have a plan, he just took off after you, leaving nothing but a pair of shredded pants outside his house.
I don't know how he found you. We all tried to track you down, but you're fast and you know how to hide when you don't want to be found. Yet, he somehow found you.
I waited for three years to see you again, for you to come home. Now, you're finally here.
Smiling. Laughing. Talking.
At my home.
It's where you were always supposed to be. Where we had planned our lives together.
But it's not the same. There's something different about your smile, your laugh, the way your eyes sparkle.
It's different. A good different, but different all the same. Happier. Much much more happier. More free. Like the weight of the world isn't hung on your shoulders. It's not bringing you down.
You haven't snapped once. You haven't made one rude comment. You haven't glared at Emily, or me one time. You haven't scowled or given us any dirty looks.
You seem much more genuine and happier than before your trip. I don't know if it was the sun or the freedom of La Push, but you seem more relaxed and care-free.
And then I notice it. His scent all over you.
You let him near you, touch you, mark you. You let him make you his.
Why? Why him? Of all people in this town you let him touch you.
You can't be together, you just can't. He's a boy, a child, he's only a pup! He's too young! He doesn't understand the world and how it works. I do. I know how harsh life can be. I know how it feels like to love someone with all your heart only for the love to be ripped away and forced onto someone else within the blink of an eye. I know how it feels to be completely powerless and do nothing about it when the person you love gets ripped away from you.
I know and he doesn't.
I smell him before he enters. He brushes by me and walks in to sit down next to you. You smirk at him and he gives you a cheeky grin that seems to send more of a message than actual words.
I watch you two. How he sits next to you, always touching you, holding your hand, placing a hand on your upper thigh, an arm snaked around your waist. I can't stand it.
His smell on you, his hands, it's too much.
Just as I control my breathing, you announce the news. The happy news you've been dying to tell us; your cousin and your ex.
You brush a lock of hair behind you ear when I notice it.
A ring.
A diamond ring.
One little flash of light gives away your news.
Left hand, fourth finger.
Marriage.
You married him.
Emily squeals and runs over to congratulate you while I'm trying not to explode.
This wasn't supposed to happen! You weren't supposed to be with him. You weren't supposed to be with anyone besides me! You were mine! Mine, and mine alone. You were my Lee-Lee. My girlfriend, my love, my fiancée.
I start to shake when I see how happy you are. You aren't supposed to be happy with him. You were supposed to be happy with me. I made you happy. I made you laugh and smile. I was your first. Your first kiss, your first date, your first time, your first fiancée, as you were mine. It's not fair. I'm the one who got all of it taken away from me. God, if I wasn't bound to Emily. If I didn't need her. If I had the choice. It would be you. It would always be you.
I tear my eyes away from you, unable to witness your excitement. I lock my eyes with him, glaring.
He notices my shaking and glares. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he takes a protective stance behind you. Showing me that you're his.
Not being able to clam myself down, I rush outside and into the forest where I explode into my other form. Letting the anger take over, I run.
I run, trying to forget about this whole mess of a day. Trying to forget how happy and content you looked being his wife.
You were never supposed to be with anyone else but me. And you were. You were mine to lose.
I let out an agonized howl and run.
I'm running from everything: from you, from him, from the truth. What a coward, but I can't help it. It hurts. So damn much.
Running faster, I replay the image of you and him together, the diamond wedding ring on your finger.
I run faster, trying to outrun the pain that consumes over me.
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How was that? Any thoughts, comments? Should I make a part two?
