I Knew I Was Too Late—and I

Just Because I’m Resisting The Wine Doesn’t Mean I Can’t Appreciate The Bouquet.

When I Was 8, I Was Reading 'gone With The Wind' And 'pride And Prejudice' And All That, Not Knowing It Wasn't My Reading Level.

I Could See How Easy It Would Be To Fall Into Loving Bella. It Would Be Exactly Like Falling: Effortless. Not Letting Myself Love Her Was The Opposite Of Falling—it Was Pulling Myself Up A Cliff-face, Hand Over Hand, The Task As Grueling As If I Had No More Than Mortal Strength.

Bears," I Muttered, Adding A New Fear To The Pile. "that Would Be Just Her Luck, Wouldn't It? Stray Bear In Town. Of Course It Would Head Straight For Bella.

He's Like A Drug For You, Bella." His Voice Was Still Gentle, Not At All Critical. "i See That You Can't Live Without Him Now. It's Too Late. But I Would Have Been Healthier For You. Not A Drug; I Would Have Been The Air, The Sun." The Corner Of My Mouth Turned Up In A Wistful Half-smile. "i Used To Think Of You That Way, You Know. Like The Sun. My Personal Sun. You Balanced Out The Clouds Nicely For Me." He Sighed. "the Clouds I Can Handle. But I Can't Fight With An Eclipse.