Disclaimer: I, MeegsReads, do not own the stories Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse or Breaking Dawn or the characters within them. Each book is a work of art in its own way and I appreciate them, but I have no ownership rights to them.

A/N: Happy New Year! Thank you for your patience. I'm so sorry it took over a year for me to write this!

We are back to Rose's POV, as I've always said I am committed to Rose bring this to a close.

Also, thank you all so much for the positive feedback on the last chapter, I appreciate every review, favourite and follow.

How Much Longer Until The End?

Chapter Five: Couldn't Put Humpty Together Again

Can someone just hold me?
Don't fix me, don't try to change a thing
Can someone just know me?
'Cause underneath, I'm broken and it's beautiful

Kelly Clarkson: Broken & Beautiful

I smell her before I see her—the she-wolf, Leah. The overly potent stench of pine and musk that cling to their kind has a way of entering a room long before they set foot in it.

She's glaring at me; I can feel her eyes practically burning holes into my back.

One hundred and fourty-four days ago this would have bothered me. Her presence would have set me on edge. Now, I can't even be bothered to turn around and acknowledge her presence.

The sun has just begun to rise marking an end to another night without him. I draw the blinds shut just as the sun's rays threaten to enter the room. It's fitting that the weather in Forks would be unusually pleasant when I am feeling the exact opposite.

"Blondie, if you think you have a monopoly on heartbreak you're just as dumb as Jake says you are."

My eyes momentarily drift from the drawn shutters that cover the large bay window to the she-wolf occupying the doorway of my bedroom. She's leaning against the door jamb opting for the same casual stance that she took yesterday and the day before during her silent observation of me.

"Piss off, Mutt." My gaze returns to the window and I commence my daily ritual of waiting for the sun to set.

"And for the record, you also don't have a monopoly on grief or missing someone either." Leah continues as if I hadn't spoken.

"Leave!" I hiss.

In an act of defiance, she enters the room and slams the door shut.

I whirl around to face her. "Get. Out."

Instead of leaving she looks levelly into my eyes. "What he did... it sucks. It really fucking sucks. And it's going to fucking suck for a long time until one day it sucks a little less. In the meantime you have to find a way to cope other than biting the heads off of everyone left that gives a damn about you or following engaged girls around Seattle."

My eyes widen in surprise.

How could she have known about Seattle? I hadn't told a soul about my momentary lapse in judgment and if either Alice or Edward knew about it they hadn't brought it up.

"You followed me?"

Leah shrugs, indifferently. "Yeah, I did. I know what self-destruction looks like."

I am caught between wanting to laugh and my desire to toss her out the window.

I settle on the former. A humourless laugh escapes my lips. The thought of this toddler that I have lived laps around knowing an ounce of my grief... my pain.. this anguish is absolutely preposterous.

It's preposterous and yet, there is a look of understanding etched on her face.

I am caught off guard for the second time in less than five minutes. Her words actually do come from a place of knowing. I never noticed it before; Leah Clearwater is a mosaic composed of ornate shards of glass. Millions of individual splintered pieces make up her being. Fragile. Fragmented. Messy. Yet somehow perfectly whole.

Cracked, not broken.

A beautiful work of art.

I don't need to ask but I do. "Someone left you?"

"Yeah." She nods, somehow simultaneously looking more astute and forlorn than any twenty-something should. "Twice. My boyfriend, Sam, imprinted on my cousin and my dad died after my first phase."

"Fuck." It's the first word that comes to mind and its out of my mouth before I realize I've said anything at all.

"Yeah."

"For what its worth, I'm sorry." I don't say it because it's what you're supposed to say or because I'm sorry for the losses she has experienced in her life. I say it because there is so much more to be sorry for.

I'm sorry you're not like Bella, Alice, Esme or your cousin. I'm sorry you're not a beautiful sketch or painting. I'm sorry that the look in your black-brown eyes mirrors my own. I'm sorry we're alike.

"Me too." There isn't a trace of pity in her voice and I know Leah's apologizing for the same reason I am. She sighs and looks at me appraisingly, taking in all of the sharp bits and pieces that now form a mosaic called Rosalie Hale. "You'll get through this, Blondie."

I wrap my arms around myself to keep every piece in place. "How do you know?" I don't mean to sound desperate but I do.

Leah shrugs again and heads towards the door. She doesn't leave, her hand merely rests on the golden knob. "Because I wasn't beyond repair."

I squeeze myself a bit tighter and take a few steps toward the door as well. "I still love him."

"I still love Sam. A part of me probably always will." She says it as if she's stating a fact. The sky is blue. Two plus two equals four. Leah loves Sam. She hesitates then adds, "I just love Leah Clearwater more."

There isn't narcissism or selfishness in her words. There's only strength and empowerment.

When she exits the room it takes me a moment to follow.

A/N: I have always thought that Leah and Rose would have made such good friends. They're both such strong women that often have their strength misconstrued as bitchiness. So I hope I've done them justice by not misrepresenting them.

I'm currently playing around with an idea for a Leah- centric shortie so let me know if it's something you guys would be interested in checking out.

I think this it it folks. I think this is the end. Thank you all coming on this ride with me. Thank you for all of the support. I appreciate every review, favourite and follow.