A/N: Ok I know many people hate when they invest time into a fic to have it turn into something disappointing or upsetting. Therefore, I am warning you right this very second, the story is labeled a Tragedy for a very specific reason. Take that, as you will, but you canít say I didnít warn you once the end comes.

And also, this is my first attempt at switching POVís. So please please please bare with me. Iíll just be switching from Jasper to Edwardís POV so nothing too major. You can follow me on twitter LaBriee for any info on chapter arrivals, teasers, links, and updates etc.

This chapter is dedicated to the lovely clairedelune85 who is most certainly my FanFic rock. (BTW you should read her fic Beyond Faith, it's in my favorites)

As always thank you all so much for the support. :)

~Jasper POV~

The summer of 1922, I moved to West Egg, New York, an island home to those who socially considered themselves new money. I myself would have never consciously considered myself new money, but in the eyes of those surrounding me I was, hence my residence in West Egg. Across the water was where my cousin Bella McCarty lived, on the island of East Egg which coincidentally was referred to as the island of old money.

Emmett McCarty, Bella's husband of 3 years, came from a wealthy family. He was a former Yale footballer who was injured his third year of playing. After that, he lived off his family's wealth. Bella married him when she was young, barely twenty years old. It was my personal belief that they rushed into the marriage rather quickly, but to each his own was my philosophy on the subject.

The Thursday after I moved to New York I was invited to "do lunch" with my cousin Bella, since as she put it "we needed to catch up." I walked up to the hotel's restaurant and she was already waiting for me. Next to her sat an attractive, petite, brunette girl. She seemed eerily familiar.

"Jasper dear," Bella said as she rose to greet me. Her friend followed her movements. "Why Jasper, I'd like you to meet my dearest friend, Alice Brandon."

We performed the typical casualties of shaking hands and I remained standing as the two ladies took their seats again.

"Tell me Alice, what is it you do in terms of career. You seem familiar," I asked of the dainty girl.

"Why I play golf professionally," She answered as she brought her water glass to her lips ever so gently, pinky in the air.

"Well, that explains the familiarity," I replied as I studied her graceful movements. She was one of the most attractive women I had ever seen since moving to New York.

"Did you know, Jasper lives in West Egg," Bella revealed as we contemplated our choices for lunch.

"Oh! Then you have been to one of Cullen's parties!" Alice bounced in her seat anxiously waiting for my reply.

"I'm afraid I have not, though I do believe you are speaking of my neighbor, Edward Cullen." Bella's eyes were glued to my face as I spoke.

"You live next to him and have not attended one of his magnificent parties? Why they are the toast of the town. What has stopped you from dropping by?" Alice continued to inquire, as Bella continued to hold her gaze on me.

"I don't believe I have been formally invited to such an event. Mind you I've only lived here barely five days." Bella's eyes lifted from my face and spun around the room quickly searching for something.

"Well tomorrow you and I shall attend one of his soirees and have a marvelous time," Alice said. "Bella, would you like to join us?"

Feverishly Bella shook her head no. An uncomfortable silence followed our conversation.

"Where is that, damn waiter," Bella finally spoke, breaking the silence, her eyes still fluttering from face to face.

The rest of our lunch went smoothly, reminiscing and discussing new adventures.

Friday night came and I was to meet Miss Brandon on the lawn of Edward Cullen's residence. I walked the short distance to his house and she was already awaiting my arrival.

"Jasper, so good to see you again." Her smile was warm and dazzling.

"As it is to see you again, Miss Brandon," I replied with a warm smile of my own.

I held my arm to my side for her to take and she did. We walked arm in arm into the large mansion. There was a wooden porch, with stairs leading up to the large black door, which led us to the entrance. I did not know much of decorations or design, but even I knew that it was impeccably furnished. The wood shone like new and the furniture was expensive in appearance.

There were already many people drinking and socializing merrily when we walked through the first room. Miss Brandon led me through another room, then to the backyard, which overlooked the water. There was a band playing lively music and I almost asked the beautiful woman on my arm to dance, but she was already leading to the other side of the yard to a group of girls, similar in appearance to her. Each of them had a man, no different from me, to their left.

"Jasper, I'd like you to meet my friends." She began rambling off names that I didn't even try to remember. We sat with the group and began discussing what a lovely party it was.

"Too bad Cullen is a bootlegger," One girl with mousy blonde hair said whom I believe was named Lauren.

"That's quite an accusation to make of someone you don't know," I spoke in defense of the elusive man who could not defend himself at the time.

"Oh, but Ben's friend, Michael knows someone who has done," She looked both ways for prying ears before continuing. "Business with Cullen."

For the rest of the evening the girls giggled and discussed matters that really didn't involve them, such as Mr. Cullen's business affairs.

The party died down and I showed Miss Brandon to a taxi that she had called. After she poured herself into the vehicle, I made my way through the lawn to my small bungalow. It wasn't late, so I decided to go out in the backyard and there stood a man, not too much older than me, in Cullen's backyard.

He just stood there, staring across the water. I tried to look for what held his attention, but saw nothing but a light from some dock across the water. It then clicked within my mind that it must have been Cullen himself standing in my presence.

"Are you Edward Cullen?" I called to him. He simply nodded, without even looking my way. "I'm Jasper Whitlock," I revealed to him. Again, he replied with a simple nod, never truly acknowledging me.

For the next week we repeated this very routine. I would walk to my backyard and find him staring into that green light across the water. All the while he never said a word.

Friday evening came and instead of standing in my own backyard, I attended another of Cullen's parties.

Alice of course was my guest for the evening. Even though we had only known each other a short time, I was beginning to grow quite fond of the young Miss Brandon. I suppose we were very similar in our ways.

We drifted from area to area of Cullen's vast manor, never staying too long in one area. Finally, we settled at a table in the backyard, where the party was the liveliest. Conversations were started and stories exchanged. Time had passed and so had the champagne through my system. I suppose I drank so much that I was unaware of the fact that Cullen had somehow appeared at our table and was exchanging stories with the rest of them.

"I really wish Bella could've attended your party Cullen," Alice spoke to the dilettante as if he knew whom Bella was.

"Excuse me, you know Bella McCarty?" His voice shook as he spoke, as if he were nervous or scared.

"Why of course. She's Jasper's second cousin, removed by marriage and my dearest friend. Do you know her?" Alice said nonchalantly.

The look upon Cullen's face was one of sheer joy. He looked as if he would bust from the happiness that filled him.

"Yes, actually. We knew each other once, when she was still Bella Swan. Before she …" He trailed off. "But alas, time got in the way and I have not seen her since." I continued.

"Well, we shall bring her to your next party for a reunion," I told him and I would do just that.

~Edward POV~

War was never a tolerable concept - it was a cold, hard reality that millions of men endured. When I was 21 years old, I was one of those men called to bear the suffering. For practically two years I fought for my country, it was one of the few things I was proud of in my life. Of course, two years may not seem like such a long time, but when you were in those trenches, watching people die all around you, it felt as if it were a lifetime.

The only thing that got me through that time were my letters to Bella. She was the reason I drudged on. My every breath was so I would be able to see her one more time. To hold her in my arms one last time, I would've walked through the fieriest pits of hell.

Every month for the first year or so, I would consistently receive and reply to my Bella's letters. Then, the letters came once every two months and so on, until eventually there was none. I would clutch those letters to my heart, mourning the loss of what I had with my Bella. There was no photograph that captured her beauty to keep me company, just the letters.

Deep down a part of me knew she had moved on to a new love, but a bigger, foolish part of me selfishly held on to the thought of her waiting for me. That foolish part went looking for her, looking for my existence, for my love. I was searching for what would in due course become my downfall.