A/N: Like always, I don't own Twilight. -Cries-Must you make me say it every single time?

I roll over onto my stomach on my bed. It's been hours. "Where is he?" I whisper to myself. What could be taking him so long?

It's May 19th 1951.

Our anniversary. The anniversary of the day I found him in that dive of a diner.

The day I found my life.

I haven't seen Jasper all day. I run my fingers through my cropped hair again and again. This is so unlike Jasper, to forget our most important day together. If I could cry, tears would be running down my face now. I bite my lip and fight the lump setting up shop in my throat.

In the three years Jasper and I have been together, he has never once forgotten. Until now.

A soft knock on the door interrupts my wallowing.

"Alice?" A quiet voice asks. It's Esme. I quickly sit up on the bed, breathing deeply.

"Come in."

Esme glides over to my bed and wraps her arms around me. "I'm sure he hasn't forgotten, dear. He must just be…busy. Preoccupied, you know."

I lean my head on her shoulder. "Maybe." I say. I try to believe her, but it's so hard. When Jasper and I are separated, I feel like half of me is gone. Just completely absent. He's like my right hand, and when my right hand isn't with me, I feel incomplete.

"This isn't like him, Esme." I murmur into her arms.

"I know, Alice. I know."

I stare up at her. "No, you don't," I contradict quietly. She laughs and strokes my head, smoothing and absently rearranging my hair.

"Yes I do, actually. Before you and Jasper, and even Emmett and Rosalie, for that matter, a very similar thing happened between Carlisle and I."

"Go on." I say softly, transfixed.

Distractedly, she combs through my three inches of hair still, plowing it, furrowing with her fingers. She stares distantly at the wall, as though a movie is being projected on it, and she's describing what's happening.

"I was in your position, and Carlisle was in Jasper's. It was about nineteen-twentyone, several months after I was changed. I was sitting at home, with nobody for company except Edward. Being a man, he wasn't nearly as good at being consoling as, say, a woman might be. But that boy tried. He might've failed completely too, if he hadn't been so talented musically. He started to play for me, the song that he still plays now, over seventy years later." She broke off to look at me in dismay.

I've wrapped my arms around my chest, trying to hold the pain in. Edward and Esme sound so happy in the story. Where's the sadness in it? If it's like what I'm going through right now, then she shouldn't be talking about how Edward's song made her happier.

"Don't worry, Alice." She soothes. "I'm getting to the part that's like yours. Really.

"But I digress from my story. Anyway, Edward was trying-and failing- to cheer me up. If I could have cried, I would have flooded the living room. I couldn't believe that Carlisle, the man I loved unconditionally, had forgotten about the anniversary of our meeting, all those years ago, in 1911. I could barely stand the thought.

"But then, as I lay staring up at the ceiling, Edward's song changed into, of all things, the Wedding March. I looked up at him, uncomprehending, and Carlisle walks into the room, dressed in a tuxedo.

"I remember thinking that his eyes were so troubled. Like golden but stormy seas. Some conflict was brewing in them. He walked over to me and sat down where I was sitting on the floor. He kissed my hand and looked into my eyes.

"'Esme.' He said softly. 'I am so very sorry for being late. An emergency appendectomy was needed for this young girl, I was the one person who knew how to perform one, and I couldn't let her die like that…'

"I look up at him and smiled. 'It's fine.' I murmured. He smiled broadly and got down on one knee. 'Esme, I love you more then I can say. The only way I can possibly convey it is by asking, 'Will you marry me?'

"I nodded, and he slipped a gold band around my finger." Esme wiggles her finger jauntily, breaking out of her story. I stare at the ring. This story is becoming too happy again. What is Esme trying to tell me?

Esme seems to have acquired Edward's capabilities. "What I'm trying to tell you, darling, is that Jasper might be late due to something beyond his control."

Another knock on the door sounds, and I yell, "Come in."

Jasper edges in the door, hands clasped behind his back. His head is ducked in shame, and he looks up at me through his lashes. "Alice?"

"Or," Esme whispers in my ear, "He might be planning something special for you." With that, she slips out the door, patting Jasper on the back as she walks by. He puts the thing he was holding in his pocket.

Jasper comes over to and sits on the bed. "Alice?" He asks again. I look sideways at him. "Alice, please don't be mad!" He pleads. He grabs both my hands in both of his, and tilts my head toward his. I look at his eyes, twin pools of liquid, molten gold that are heartbreakingly unsure, and all of my anger goes out the window.

"I'm not." I mumble faintly.

"Really, Alice, I couldn't stand it if you were mad at me."

I look him in the eyes. "Jasper. I am not angry at you." I enunciate each word, and his body visibly relaxes. He leans his forehead against mine, and I take in all of his beauty, so close to my own. I might be a vampire, but his perfection can still affect me.

"Good. I really don't think I would be able to stand it if you were."

I sag against him, and we sit like that, huddled close to one another, for quite some time, our bodies melding, fitting perfectly against each other.

I don't know how long we sit like this, maybe seconds, maybe eons, before Jasper slides away.

"Jazz…don't," I groan.

"Wait, Alice. It's important." He says. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and let them dangle. I kick them in impatience and curiosity.

Jasper, his golden hair matching his eyes, slowly bends one knee and rests on the other one.

"Mary Alice?" He asks softly. "I have loved you since the moment I saw you. Will you marry me, and be with me forever?" He opens up a minute jewelry box, and I see a simple gold band resting on the black velvet.

Sometimes I wish I was capable of crying.

I fling my arms around his neck and scream, "Yes! Yes! Forever, Jasper!"

His strong arms engulf my tiny frame, and as I melt into them he whispers, "Forever. We'll be together forever."

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