Midnight Sun (The Twilight Saga #5) - Stephenie Meyer Page 0,295

going to put any more needles in you now.”

Her face had lost all its stubbornness; she was only troubled now. “I’m not afraid of the needles. I’m afraid to close my eyes.”

I reached out to hold her face, and smiled at her with perfect sincerity. This wasn’t difficult. All I wanted—all I would ever want—was to look into her eyes forever. “I told you I’m not going anywhere. Don’t be afraid. As long as it makes you happy, I’ll be here.”

Until you’re healthy, until you’re ready. Until I find the strength I need.

She smiled despite the pain. “You’re talking about forever, you know.”

A mortal kind of forever.

“Oh, you’ll get over it,” I teased. “It’s just a crush.”

She tried to shake her head, but gave up with a wince. “I was shocked when Renée swallowed that one. I know you know better.”

“That’s the beautiful thing about being human,” I said quietly. “Things change.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

I had to laugh at her sour expression. She knew how long I could hold my breath.

Gloria bustled in with syringe already in hand.

He needs to give her some peace and quiet, poor thing.

I moved out of her way before her “Excuse me” was half out of her mouth. I leaned against the wall at the other end of the room, giving Gloria space. I didn’t want to irritate her enough that she would try to kick me out again. I wasn’t sure where Carlisle was.

Bella stared at me anxiously, worried I was going to walk right out and keep going. I tried to make my expression reassuring. I would be here when she woke up. As long as she needed me.

Gloria injected the painkiller into the port. “Here you go, honey. You’ll feel better now.”

Bella’s “Thanks” was less than grateful.

It took only seconds for Bella’s eyelids to close.

“That ought to do it,” Gloria murmured.

She gave me a pointed glance, but I stared toward the window, pretending I didn’t see. She shut the door quietly behind herself.

I flitted back to Bella, cradling the good side of her face in my hand.

“Stay.” The word was slurred.

“I will,” I promised her. She was drifting now, and I felt able to speak the truth. “Like I said, as long as it makes you happy… as long as it’s what’s best for you.”

She sighed, only partly conscious. “’S not the same thing.”

“Don’t worry about that now, Bella. You can argue with me when you wake up.”

The corners of her lips curled into a faint smile. “’Kay.”

I leaned down and kissed her temple, then whispered “I love you” into her ear.

“Me too,” she breathed.

I laughed halfheartedly. “I know.” That was the problem.

She fought against the sedation, turning her head toward me… searching.

I kissed her bruised lips softly.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“Edward?” She could barely shape my name.

“Yes?”

“I’m betting on Alice,” she mumbled.

Her face went slack as she sank fully into unconsciousness.

I buried my face in the hollow of her neck and breathed in her searing essence, wishing again, as I had in the beginning, that I could dream with her.

EPILOGUE: AN OCCASION

THEY KEPT HER IN THE HOSPITAL FOR SIX MORE DAYS. I COULD TELL THE time seemed interminable to her. She was anxious to get back to normal life, to be free of the doctors who poked and prodded, to have all the needles out of her skin.

For me, the time sped by, despite the constant agony of seeing her in the hospital bed, of knowing she was in pain and there was nothing I could do to alleviate any of it. This time was my secured time; it would be undeniably wrong to leave when she was still broken. I wanted to stretch out every second, even though they hurt. But they raced by me.

I hated the minutes I had to be away from her, while the doctors consulted with Bella and Renée, though it was easy enough to eavesdrop from the stairwell. Perhaps it was better sometimes; I couldn’t always control my face.

That first day after she awoke, for example, when Dr. Sadarangani enthused over the X-rays, pleased at how clean the breaks were, how neatly they would heal, all I could see in that moment was the tracker’s foot descending onto her leg. All I could hear was the crisp snap of her bones. It was good that no one could see my face then.

She saw that her mother was restless—uneasy about a long-term substitute job at a Jacksonville primary school that would be given away if she wasn’t available soon—but still