Breaking Dawn   ::   Meyer Stephenie

Theshock wore off slowly, leaving nothing in its absence. Emptiness. My mind was blank. I couldn’t think of what to say. How could I explain it to him in the right way? How could I make him as happy as I was—or as I had been, a moment ago?

I touched his arm, and he didn’t respond. I wrapped my fingers around his wrist and tried to pry his arm off his face, but I could have been yanking on a sculpture for all the good it did me.

“Edward.”

He didn’t move.

“Edward?”

Nothing. So, this would be a monologue, then.

“ I’m not sorry, Edward. I’m… I can’t even tell you. I’m so happy. That doesn’t cover it. Don’t be angry. Don’t. I’m really f—”

“Do not say the word fine .” His voice was ice cold. “If you value my sanity, do not say that you are fine.”

“But I am ,” I whispered.

“Bella,” he almost moaned. “Don’t.”

“No. You don’t, Edward.”

He moved his arm; his gold eyes watched me warily.

“Don’t ruin this,” I told him. “I. Am. Happy.”

“I’ve already ruined this,” he whispered.

“Cut it out,” I snapped.

I heard his teeth grind together.

“Ugh!” I groaned. “Why can’t you just read my mind already? It’s so inconvenient to be a mental mute!”

His eyes widened a little bit, distracted in spite of himself.

“That’s a new one. You love that I can’t read your mind.”

“Not today.”

He stared at me. “Why?”

I threw my hands up in frustration, feeling an ache in my shoulder that I ignored. My palms fell back against his chest with a sharp smack. “Because all this angst would be completely unnecessary if you could see how I feel right now! Or five minutes ago, anyway. I was perfectly happy. Totally and completely blissed out. Now—well, I’m sort of pissed, actually.”

“You should be angry at me.”

“Well, I am. Does that make you feel better?”

He sighed. “No. I don’t think anything could make me feel better now.”

“ That ,” I snapped. “That right there is why I’m angry. You are killing my buzz , Edward.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

I took a deep breath. I was feeling more of the soreness now, but it wasn’t that bad. Sort of like the day after lifting weights. I’d done that with Renée during one of her fitness obsessions. Sixty-five lunges with ten pounds in each hand. I couldn’t walk the next day.