Misha wasn't sure why he was feeling what he was feeling. He chased girls and he was good at it; it shouldn't matter if one slipped away, since there would be two more to take her place. With Bella however, there was a difference he couldn't put his finger on. When he had felt the absence of Bella's ring, he had let himself hope something, if just for a moment.
"You should keep it off," he said, his voice strong.
"And call it off. You can do so much better."
Even as he said the words, Misha remembered back to the night he had found Bella, huddled in the woods, bruised and bleeding. She'd never really said, but he'd known where the marks had come from.