The woods hadn’t changed—but everything else had.

You stepped into the clearing, arms crossed tight against the cold and the anger simmering underneath it. This place used to feel like home. Now it just reminded you of everything you’d lost.

Of him.

“Seriously?” your voice rang out as you spotted Jacob Black standing with his back to you. “This is how you do it?”

He didn’t move.

Your chest tightened. Two months. Two months of silence, of worry, of wondering if he was even okay—and this was what you got?

“You disappear without a word, ignore everything, and then suddenly you call me out here like nothing happened?” you snapped, stepping closer. “Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

Still nothing.

“Say something, Jacob.”

He turned.

And the words died in your throat for half a second.

He looked… different. Taller, broader—like he’d grown into someone you didn’t recognize. And his hair was shorter, no more longhair and he was sporting a fresh tattoo in his upper arm near his shoulder. An intricate Quileute design that you’ve seen other tribe members have. But it wasn’t just that. There was something heavier in his presence now. Something intense.

Something off.

Your frustration surged back to the surface.

“Well?” you demanded, crossing your arms. “I’m waiting.”

But Jacob had gone completely still.

The moment his eyes met yours, everything in him locked.

It hit him all at once—sharp and overwhelming. The world faded, the sounds around him dulling until there was nothing but you. Every instinct, every thought, every piece of him snapped into place around a single, undeniable truth.

You.

His breath caught. His chest burned with it—warm, consuming, unshakable.

You were still talking, still angry, your voice cutting through the air—but it barely reached him. He couldn’t look away. Couldn’t think past the way everything suddenly made sense and nothing did at the same time.

“Jacob?” you pressed, irritation bleeding through. “Are you even listening to me?”

He blinked, like surfacing from deep water.

“Huh?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “Huh? That’s all you have to say?”

But he barely heard you.

His expression had shifted—softened in a way that didn’t match the tension in your voice at all. Like he was seeing something he couldn’t believe was real.

“You…” he started quietly, almost to himself.

This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

He came here to say goodbye, for longer than two months.

So why did it suddenly feel impossible?