Hello again, my patient, PATIENT little group of darlings!... *clears throat* ...who aren't here to see ME, I know, and who are more than welcome to pretend you don't. I'm just here to drop off a list anyway. Which I advise you to take a look at before looking at what you are here for.
THE LIST (of what you'll see–and hear–down there)
1) Some sweet
2) Some not
3) Some stripping (I could explain this further, but I won't)
4) Some answers (again, I could explain but...)
5) Some tears (some were mine)
6) Some downright despicable (should be obvious)
7) Some conversations with declarations (squeeeeeee)
8) Some BROmance (I know some of you naughty h00rs might be squirming at the mere thought of that, but don't get too excited... this IS a Edward and ISABELLA love story)
9) Some laughs (again, some were mine)
And last but never least here...
10) Some LOVE
And now that I've warned you about everything I can think to, you can get to all of it... stripped bare or fully dressed, it's your call. ;)
Chapter Two: Stripped Bare
Isabella
"You're an interesting girl, Isabella Hale... "
"Why do you say that, Alice?"
Though I'm sure everything is perfect for my dream day, I decided to take one last look. I've been taking pictures for days... trying to capture the details that my eyes know by heart, but that I want to be beyond sure are absolutely right.
My lists have all been checked... and rechecked... more times than I could ever count...
But I still need to see that I haven't missed anything, or that nothing besides what's beyond my control is wrong.
"Because I never would have imagined that your fairy tale was such a dark one."
"This is a darkroom, Alice."
"Ha ha, very funny... " she says, and sticks her tongue out at me where she's joined me in mine. "My observation of your dark fairy tale has nothing to do with the lighting in here."
"Then what does it have to do with?" I ask her, because I honestly don't know what she's talking about.
"You, my gothic little princess."
Gothic? Me? "Have you been drinking?"
"No, I have not."
"Smoking something?"
"No. You know I don't do that."
"Then I think we need to take you to the eye doctor... or some kind of doctor... because there is nothing dark or gothic about me, which you know."
"Said the girl who is getting married in a forest. At twilight."
"That's not gothic, it's romantic."
"It's both. Just like nearly every other lovely little detail you've so meticulously–and surprisingly–chosen."
"What are you surprised about? You were with me, or right next to me, when I chose most of it. And shown what you weren't at the first opportunity."
"I know. And I loved being one of the people who was. One of the people you wanted to... and I loved everything you chose. I was just surprised by some of it. And am even more so now that I've seen it all come together."
"But why?" I ask her, still not understanding her point. Because seeing it all come together–put together–only makes me love it all more. And more sure than ever that it's all perfect, and exactly what I wanted.
"Because, unlike that other thing you told me you chose for your perfect fairy tale wedding night, your perfect fairy tale wedding isn't quite as 'sweet' as I'd have expected it to be."
Looking at all of the details again... in the pictures surrounding us...
And remembering the raised brows I saw again and again by most everyone each time they saw them–because they, too, perhaps expected to see different ones–I suppose I see now what she's saying. They're not all sweet. And my fairy tale wedding won't be.
But fairy tales...
The real ones...
Weren't.
And marrying Edward is, more than anything, real to me. "Well, getting married, for me, is about letting some of that go. The sweet...
"So... 'surprising'... to any or all of you... is to me... just right."
And I can't wait until the day it truly does all come together.
Perfectly.
Sweet...
Or not.
Edward
"What do you mean, no strippers?"
Some things never change... "I mean NO STRIPPERS, Emmett."
"Dude, it's a BACHELOR PARTY. Strippers are a requirement. That shit's not optional."
"I'm glad you think so, Emmett," Rose says, getting up and doing a few stripper-like moves of her own. And turning my stomach with every one. "And are willing to battle for the cause. Because Bella's going to have them, too, at her bachelorette party."
"No she's not!" (Emmett) "The hell she is." (Sam) And "OVER YOUR DEAD BODY." (Jasper, of course) is the chorus that greets her.
And I, also of course, have my own thoughts about it, and they're the same as all of those–especially Jasper's–but I don't need to say them out loud. Or issue any orders or declare any rules that shall not be broken...
Because Isabella would never. And has her own. And her own voice. And can–and I know will–speak for herself. And what she does and would–again, never–want. "No, Rose. I don't want that and you know it."
"What I know is that Emily and Alice got to plan your bridal shower. And that you insulted me by giving me back all but one of the gifts I gave you at it, not to mention when you didn't ask me–who has been your friend for more YEARS than she has months–to be your maid of honor...
"AND I have to wear purple to not even be... and–seriously, if Angela takes one picture of me in that dress, I'll claw her eyes out–be outside for hours probably getting eaten alive by mosquitos...
"The bachelorette party is mine, Bella. Mine to plan, and mine to make you have fun at. And see a little of 'the world' before you have to cater to all things his for the rest of your poor, unfortunate life."
I know Rose wanted to wear red... fought Isabella nearly to the death about the purple she chose...
And I'm really tempted to support her cause right now... and drape her in RED... but it won't be with a dress... "It's her party, Rose, NOT yours. And you'll respect that in your planning or have all things me to deal with. And I promise you you won't like that. Even more than you don't like that purple dress you should feel honored to have the privilege to wear."
"Said the control freak asshole who's going to be ogling, and God knows what else, a bunch of half naked–or fully–women that are NOT HER at his own party."
"I'm not going to be ogling anyone. Or any thing. There will be no women, in any manner of dress, or at all, at my party. Which I feel no desire to even have. So, shut your mouth, and back off, and concern yourself with your favorite thing, which we all know, is you. And ask yourself why Emmett is the one who wants to ogle something so badly. Or needs to, apparently."
"Fuck you, Edward!"
There are a million responses to that dancing on my tongue...
But she's not worth any of them. Or the breath it would take to speak–or beat her with–them.
And she wonders why she wasn't asked to be the maid of honor...
By my beautiful girl who wants a perfect, beautiful, happy day. Every.
And who isn't happy now. "You will respect me, Rose. What I want and what I don't. And you'll respect him. Or you don't have to attend at all–my party or our wedding–wearing anything.
"AND you will respect that we are at this moment at Sam and Emily's home, and that I have their sweet, beautiful and innocent little boy in my arms."
"Who is a BABY, Bella. Who can't understand a word–"
Isabella doesn't wait for her to finish her pointless retort. She gets up and carries her godson–and mine–and her oldest brother's namesake, into the house, shielding him with her love and sweetness, both fiercer than any other part of her.
And both of which the sight of takes my breath away every time I see it. Still... even though it's been months and I've seen this love and sweetness many.
Since the day he was born...
She's been here, and I've been right beside her, like I am now, as often as she could. Helping with anything Emily or Sam needed. Or just letting them sleep. Or have a few minutes alone as husband and wife without that 'new parents' worry.
Because they never worry if their greatest treasure is in her sweet, loving arms. Or even in mine, which aren't nearly as much of either, and that I have to say shocked me a little... or a lot...
But Sam said that was ridiculous. And that if there was a man alive who could be trusted with a treasure it was me.
A declaration he made with a straight face. And in front of Jasper, who stared at me holding Ethan as if in a trance.
I think because the last time he saw me hold a baby–like I him–it was his baby sister. And it was their father saying he trusted me to. Even though I was just a boy...
"How old was Isabella the first time the word fuck came out of her cute little mouth?" Sam asks, covering his son's ears, and kissing Isabella's cheek, because, like me, he's in the house now, too.
"Four, I think?" I say, shaking mine at the memory. "Because I think that's how old she was when Emmett and his big mouth started hanging around."
"I heard that," Emmett says, joining us, as well. But probably only because we're in their kitchen now. "And stop blaming me for everything 'bad' the angel has ever done. Her truck driver mouth isn't only my fault. And I'm not the one who wants it to do other 'bad' things. To HIM."
Really. BIG. Mouth. Fucking idiot...
Who may be about to die... even before that HIM, who is me, myself, and I, can kill him.
Because everyone is in the kitchen now.
"For God's sake, Emmett, we just ate." Rose runs to the garbage can holding her stomach, and leans over it, making overly-dramatic gagging sounds. The feeling is mutual, bitch...
But neither that, nor Jasper's anything-but-amused face, is what I'm looking at now. Because Isabella is looking at me. And smiling a sweet, innocent, and anything-but-disgusted smile.
Jesus...
Which turns to a sweet, innocent pucker against my cheek as she walks past me, and everyone else, and out of the kitchen with that sweet, innocent treasure in her arms. Telling me I'll have mine soon.
In my arms or anywhere else I want it.
Because she's it.
And wants to be. Fiercely.
Bachelor party night has arrived. And as much as I'm dreading it, and the probability that my wants for it, though I didn't want it at all, may have been ignored–by Emmett–what I'm most concerned about is what Isabella may be concerned about. "You know there won't be strippers, right? That I truly don't want that? Or need? In any way?"
She nods, that beautiful smile she always wears for me bright on her face. Like the unspoken promises that I'll have everything I do want or need as soon as I say two anything-but-little words to her on that day I promised to give her.
Promises I've been seeing more and more of the closer we get to it. "I do. Know that."
"Good," I tell her, pulling her into my arms.
"Just like you do. I hope?"
"I have not a single doubt," I answer, but to any question she could have, rather than to just the one she posed. "But if Rose fails to heed our warnings? And wants?"
"I promise I won't look," she says, "At anything, but the buttons of my phone. To call you to come and sweep me away from despicable. After I punch her in the mouth. Or eye. Or both."
"Don't hurt those pretty hands," I tell her, "because, like your pretty eyes, I've been waiting very patiently to fill them with something."
Her pretty eyes now go wide, and it's she who's wearing red... better than Rose or anyone ever could... and I chuckle. Despicably. And kiss her flushed-with-warmth cheek in a way that's not. Because more than my ability to be, is how much I love her. And how much she could never be.
And then I take each of her pretty hands and bring them to my lips. "So save them for me, too. Okay?"
"Okay," she agrees easily, with a sweet smile on her face, that's now faded to a luscious shade of pink... like I imagine something else to be... something else she's saved for me... God, I'm such a despicable asshole...
"I should go now, I guess... " I tell her with a sigh. Because 'very patiently' is very HARD. Seriously, killing me... And because go is the last thing I want to do. Really, what a stupid and pointless tradition.
"Us too," Alice says, linking her arm with Isabella's. "And I promise you, Edward, your beautiful bride to be won't see anything she doesn't want to. Or that you don't want her to. And she won't hurt anything. Because I do think it's an honor to wear purple, and be the one she chose to wear it nearest her, where she'll get every–and only every–thing she's ever wanted.
"And if what she wants tonight is for Rose to wear a fat lip for trying to give her something else, then, believe me, it shall be my honor to give it to her."
I REALLY. Like. Alice.
Who's smile has suddenly turned mischievous. "Unless, of course, you'd like to combine your parties... and BE what we see. The four of you, I mean? Sam could wear his police uniform, and-"
"Alice!" Isabella wails, her expression as horrified as her scream, "Are you trying to traumatize me for life?!"
"What? I know you think of Sam as a big brother, Bella, but he's not- oh... but I said the four of them, didn't I? Oops. Bad plan. Forget I mentioned it. Seriously... please forget. Shit... "
Jasper is so shocked that he can't even speak, let alone yell, at Alice's clearly not thought through suggestion, but I tear my eyes from his murderous at her ones so that I can prevent Isabella from gouging her own out at simply hearing it.
I pull her hands from her face, strategically turning her left so that it sparkles before her, hoping that's enough to chase all other uninvited visions away. And lucky for her, it is... and her sweet smile returns to her face. And me. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"And I didn't–and don't EVER–want to see anything, just to be clear," she tells me. But then her mouth drops open. Because I frown, even though I know exactly what she meant. "I didn't mean... well, I meant except... I mean, not y– You know what I mean, don't you?"
I laugh at her adorable attempt to clarify, and her hope that she doesn't have to further–and, if I'm being completely honest, at Jasper's discomfort at her wanting to–and give her hands a gentle squeeze. "Again, sweetheart, I have not a single doubt."
"Good," she says cheerfully, "because I never want you to. Ever."
"If only I had a say," I hear Jasper mutter, before the loud "NO" at Alice's attempted goodbye kiss, which he probably would have denied anyway, but that her slip of the unthinking tongue suggestion certainly gave him an excuse to on this occasion. And, as he's more immune than I have ever been to Isabella's, her pout does absolutely nothing to affect him or change his mind.
"Whatever," Alice sighs, rolling her eyes. And I'm in full agreement with her sentiment, because why the hell am I wasting my time on them? When my beautiful girl, who I don't think would ever deny me a kiss–goodbye or any other kind–is right in front of me not.
"Goodbye," she whispers, after giving me one that makes me never want to move. "Have fun."
"I won't, trust me," I say, and tighten my grip on her because her brother is now trying to pull her out of it.
With words that surprise me before I can speak any of my own. "We'll drop you off on our way to wherever it is we're going. And pick you up when you're ready. Or when we decide you are."
"We?" we all ask him at once, because we're all surprised. Because Jasper may not be fighting our course anymore, but he's never joined either of us on it. And he wasn't going to attend tonight's unnecessary pre-wedding festivities.
"Yeah," he says, looking directly at me. "Unless I'm not invited anymore?"
Isabella's beaming smile could light up a blacked out city. And, not that I'd answer any other way but how I'm going to, I'd sure as hell never do or say anything to dim it. "You're invited."
"Then let's go," he says, turning the lock on the inside of the door and escorting his sister out of it.
Will wonders never cease...
It doesn't escape anyone, least of all Isabella, that he slipped his own keys into his pocket. The keys to their house, and his car in their garage. And when they reach my truck together, she stops at the rear door, pushing him towards the front, that beaming smile still in place.
I don't say anything–if that's the seating arrangement that will make her happy, I won't deny her–but Jasper outdoes my silence as, after he opens the front passenger door, he reaches his hand out to her to help her up and through it.
And I thought she was beaming before...
Maybe this night is important. And something good can be stripped away...
But I won't rub it in his face. And once everyone is in, and my glowing treasure is buckled in, I back out of their driveway to head to our destinations. And celebrations...
Of letting go of an old and miserably wrong way of living.
"What did I say?"
"You said no strippers."
"Get the fuck away from me! I won't tell you again!" Fucking whores! "So what do I see?"
"Strippers."
I'm going to knock that smug look right off of his face... "WHYare they here, Emmett?"
"Because you only said what you said because Bella was sitting right thereat the time you said it."
"WRONG."
"Oh, come on, Edward, lighten up. I don't expect you to do anything... I love Bella and I'd kill you if you did, but it doesn't mean you can't sit back and be entertained."
"I. Don't. Want. To be. Entertained!"
"I'm. Helping. You! Because you probably don't even know if your dick works anymore, as long as it's been hibernating for the virgin winter... but this will wake it up, and then it will SPRING up, and–"
Welcome back, Silent Tyson...
And nice takedown... REALLY nice...
And REALLY ENTERTAINING...
So entertaining that I hate to look away...
But my phone is ringing... And who's ringing it will always come first. "Hi, sweetheart. Please tell me you're calling because you miss me and not because I have to murder a bridesmaid."
"I do miss you, and I really wish I could, but... "
"But you can't."
"No, I ca– Oh god... I REALLY can't, Edward! Please hurry!"
"I'm on my way, beautiful. Jasper! Get off of him! CODE RED!"
Thanks to a couple of idiots, part of Alice's suggestion has become a reality. Our parties have been combined. But maybe not in the way she hoped when she made it before she made that other...
Because all despicable has been removed. FEROCIOUSLY.
There's nothing to see and nothing to not want to. At this one, at least. Mine is still in full swing where we left it, I'm sure. Because not all of my 'friends', which makes them merely people I know, have the same priorities.
But leave it, we did. We, who do. Even Emmett, who orchestrated its existence this time, left it when he realized what Rose had orchestrated in another place. Not because he cared about her seeing it play out...
But because, idiot or not, he does care about what Isabella sees, if not about what she hears, often from his own big mouth.
"I TOLD YOU NO, ROSE!"
"YEAH, AND I DON'T TAKE ORDERS FROM YOU! AND DIDN'T!"
"You should have taken them from me," I tell her, not having to yell like Emmett did, because, believe me, she can hear me perfectly clearly... and see me... fuming...
Though she's seeing it now from behind Emmett... because she does...
But he's not interested in protecting her, and turns around to face her with a response to what he heard from her before I gave her mine. That I know by the again-smug look on his face is not one anyone wants to hear. "YOU DID LAST NIGHT!"
Why did I know he was going to say that?
Because I know him.
And Rose, unfortunately. Not nearly as well... but more than enough. And more than enough to know that she won't stay quiet because he did say it.
And as much as I didn't want Isabella to see anything, I don't want her to hear it, either. So, though I'm not finished with Rose by any means, it's time to go. And get her out of here.
My her, that the sight of at this moment is more than I can bear. Because she's bent over in a chair with her head down and her hands covering her ears. Damn you both!
"Do you want to go, sweetheart?" I whisper to her, pulling one of her hands away just enough that she can hear me. "Or do you want them to? This was supposed to be for you... "
"I want to go," she answers immediately, looking up at me. "I don't care about this stupid party. She already ruined it."
"Okay," I tell her, and pull her up and tuck her into my side and lead her to the door. Because giving her what she wants, and her wanting nothing I don't want her to have, are priorities I'm honored to have at the top of my list. And be asked, wanted, and trusted to keep there.
"I'm sorry I ruined your night," she says softly as we reach my truck. "I really hoped I wouldn't have to."
"Hey... " I gently tilt her chin up with the tip of my finger. "You didn't ruin anything. You couldn't possibly. Don't ever think that."
"But you never do anything with the guys. Or without me. And you finally had a chance to... to just relax and have a good time... without all of the wedding stress I've been bombarding you with... "
"I've never felt bombarded, Isabella."
"Stressed, then... at least. I'm sure..."
"No. Not that, either. Not even a little bit."
"You don't have to say that. That it hasn't been. I–"
"Yes, I do. Because it's the truth. I've loved every minute of it."
"Edward..."
"Because doing it with you... planning that day–our day–that you've dreamed of for so long... made you happy. Happier than I've ever seen you. And I could never not love that. Not for a single second."
"Thank you. But never? Not even at night when you wanted to be doing other things with me? And couldn't because of other plans? Of mine?"
Her eyes dare me to say yes. That I loved every minute of that, too...
But I can't do that. Not if I'm being completely honest with her, which is what she wants. To know that I will, always. No matter what. "Love is a pretty big word. And a strong..."
"It is," she agrees with a playful smile.
"And maybe too strong for some of those seconds. And minutes... and hours... that I didn't get to do what I wanted with you... "
"Months of..." she adds, still playful, but sorrowful, too. For my painful truth... because I know she knows I feel every second of it.
But there's one other thing I want to make clear to her. Painfully and playfully can't resist not making... "But if you think 'at night' is the only time I didn't love those seconds, minutes, and months of... then I definitely have a lot to teach you."
She bites her lip at this... but it's not in a way that causes me pain. Or makes me want to pull it free. Yet...
Because her cheeks are flushed. With excitement. And anticipation. And she just wanted to still the quiver that accompanied those beautiful things that I couldn't anything but love with all of my heart. And my...
"Sorry, sweetheart." Jasper's timing, as usual, is impeccable. Though maybe I should be grateful for it this time. Because it stopped me from going too far with her. Because those seconds, minutes, and months were not entirely loved by all parts of me...
But, entirely shockingly, even though I basically have Isabella pinned against her door, he doesn't look concerned for why I do. Or for her at all... because it's me who does.
And that makes me happy. As does the "It's okay" that she tells him, because she's looking right at me when she does. Telling me it's more than...
And that–though I already know–I'll love every second, minute, month of nights... and days... and LIFETIME of that okay.
That will be anything but.
Not all of Alice's suggestions are bad. Or potentially traumatizing to my sweet girl. She has good ones sometimes. Though NOT when she suggested Isabella put on that tiny little bikini for a dip in the pool... the one just like hers, though in a different–her favorite–color. That only made Jasper see RED...
And turn it–with anger–as he said NO. Though not as red or angry as he could have because I said no, too. Even though neither of us had to, because my sweet girl was already shaking her beautiful head with her own.
And sits now on the edge of their pool in shorts. Looking at me in mine, the only thing I wear, because I'm in it in front of her. And between her dangling-in-it-with-me legs.
"I didn't see anything," she whispers quietly, looking longingly over the parts of me she can see and then into my eyes. "Tonight, I mean. Before you came."
I knew that already... Emily and Alice had stopped the despicable unveilings in their tracks...
But even if Alice hadn't have told me that, one look at Isabella's face did. What she'd seen, and hadn't. And was glad to have not. Because I think she was afraid she'd see everything.
And maybe she would have... Rose probably paid extra for a full reveal... bitch.
"I know that, sweetheart."
"Good. It's important to me that you do."
"I know that, too," I tell her, and smile with how much I do.
"Did Emmett–"
She doesn't finish asking me what she wants to know, and bites her lip to still it again. And I don't like it this time. Seeing it and knowing why she is.
So I reach up and pull it free. "Don't do that. You can ask me. And you can want my answer to be no."
"Is it?" she asks now.
And I do answer with a "No." And a "Because he did... but... I didn't look. Because the only thing I wanted to see was somewhere else. Thankfully seeing nothing she didn't want to. And that I definitely didn't want her to."
She smiles at me now... sweetly. Purely. And holds nothing back from me. "The seconds... and minutes... and months of... even though somethings I needed... and needed you to give me...
"I didn't love them, either."
I know, my beautiful girl.
"And Edward?"
"Hmm?"
"I can't wait to see everything you want to show me."
And then her sweet, pure laughter floats up and out and into the salvaged night...
Because I sink down into the water in front of her like a stone.
A hard...
HARD...
Stone.
Isabella
I didn't see anything I didn't want to tonight, despite Rose's stupid, selfish efforts.
Because Edward didn't let me.
And didn't hide from me what he hasn't been selfish about, no matter how painful it was for him not to be.
Even Jasper let me see something good...
Showed me...
When he gave in a little more. Let me be closer than he was to my good... even though putting himself closer to it was...
I can't even describe how happy it made me. That he was by Edward's side tonight. When it wasn't even to watch me be...
The only thing that would make me happier than that did is if he would be there on another. Right beside him...
To watch me begin my forever of being.
Edward asked him to be...
Said no one else belonged there...
Even though he was sure he'd say no...
Just like he did...
But that night isn't here yet. That twilight of a night...
And as long as it isn't... and hasn't passed us by... and I'm still in this bed instead of another... seeing everything else I want to see...
I won't give up hope.
That I'll see that.
And that the only person who will be selfish will be Edward.
In the way he's waited seconds, and minutes, and interminable months to be...
With me.
I've been to the cemetery every morning this week.
Because who's here won't be able to share my perfect day with me.
And it's hard...
Knowing that. And thinking it could be perfect without them. Because without them it can't be. Could never...
And I want it to be. Wish I could make it... with all of my heart, I do...
I miss them so much... and wish so badly that they were here. With me. With us...
And I know I'm not the only one. Missing them. And wishing it for that day and every other.
"Hi, sweetheart."
"Hi."
My brother's pain is hard to see. And not something I've seen often.
I knew he felt it... but like with most everything else...
He never really let me see it if he could not. If he could hide it from me.
Because he thought that letting me see it would hurt me in some way. More than I already was.
But that's not possible. "I'm sorry that they're not here. And that I'm all that is... "
Oh, Jasper... "I'm sorry that they're not, too... but not that you are. Never that you are. And always have been."
"I tried, Isabella... I really did. I know I screwed up... a lot... but I swear I tried... to be... "
"I know that, Jasper. Don't ever think I don't know. Or don't know how lucky I was–am–to have you. And you love me so much."
"I do. So much... "
"I know that."
"I really am sorry."
"Don't be. Please. You did good."
"I'm really glad that you're a real girl and not a little wooden boy... because your nose–"
"Would still be exactly the same size."
He shakes his head and smiles at me, and then looks back down. "What can I do, Isabella? Is there anything? Anything at all? Or is it too late?"
"Are you going somewhere?" I ask him, because no matter what he's beating himself up about right now, the fact that he's always been here to do it and everything else is what's important to me. And will always be the most.
"No... you are."
"Not far," I tell him now. "I'll still be practically right under your nose... just not literally. And that's a good thing, not a bad, because it's about time you had a chance to breathe something other than me."
"I had that chance once. I didn't like it. And couldn't breathe at all, if you really want to know. And didn't like what I did when I had to. It was bad. Wrong."
"We were just out of dusting polish and you bought the wrong kind. But you're stocked now... with the right. I made sure of it. And that you wouldn't run out of anything else... and left lists for when you did... so everything would be–and smell–the way you like it."
"All of the cans of the right dusting polish in the world won't–"
"I know."
"No you don't... "
"I do, Jasper. Because I'll miss you, too."
"Yeah, right... "
"I will. And you asked me if there was anything you could do... but you already know that there is. And how much it would mean to me. And how much it truly will hurt me if you don't do it."
Because saying no to standing beside Edward isn't the only thing he's said it to. My brother has never actually agreed to walk me down the aisle.
I talk as though he will... and imagine it that way, because I can't imagine it any other...
But he hasn't agreed.
Because not blocking my path to Edward–and his to me–is different for him than taking me down it. And handing me over... even though he sort of did that the other night...
And he said he just couldn't.
Again and again and again he said it. To me and to everyone else who bitched at him for it.
I didn't bitch...
Because I understand.
But I asked. Sweetly. And purely. Again and again and again.
Like I am now. Sort of.
But with more of a panic in my heart. Because we're running out of time. Have run out of it.
The wedding is tomorrow.
And Sam is ready... to take his place if he lets me down...
And Ethan's... who never did... no matter what he did wrong... that took him away from me... from us...
But it's not what I want. And won't make my day as perfect as it could be.
"I'd look pretty silly walking down the aisle with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a stuffed monkey in the other. Please don't make me look silly, Jasper. Please?"
"What would you be wearing?" he asks me, staring at Ethan's headstone with a helpless desperation that breaks my heart.
"Well, I really want to wear my beautiful dress," I tell him, and then try to cut the painful tension. "The one that I promise doesn't show any leg... or anything else that would upset you or... worry you. For me."
"I think I'd rather you were showing a little leg... " he starts... but then shakes his head. At himself. "Which you know is a lie. Like... "
"Like?" I repeat after a moment, because I want to know what else is. What I hope he was going to say before he didn't.
"Like Edward's promises to you. And to me for."
I shake my head–at him–and walk away. Because that's not what I wanted to hear. Or thought I could after everything Edward has proven to both of us...
"That didn't come out right... " he calls after me, his steps close behind. "It's not what I meant to say."
"Then say what you did," I demand, and turn to face him. "And remember where we are. And how wrong it is that we have to be."
"I know where we are, Isabella... " His voice trembles with the pain of knowing. "And I know how wrong it is. And how much one of the reasons we are is my fault... You don't ever have to remind me of that. I know. And–"
"I would never do that. Or think it. And I never have.
"I was just a little girl, Jasper... but you weren't much more than a boy... and what happened... was not your fault."
"If I'd have just been paying attention... the right way... "
"Pay attention now, Jasper. The right way. And see that nothing bad has happened to me. Right under your nose or out from under it. And don't go too far. Learn from Ethan's mistake. Do what he can't now. Do it for me–and him–because he can't.
"Because he killed someone because he thought they hurt me... or might if left to live... but you'll kill me if you continue to wrongly think that someone else will."
"I don't think that."
"Then why did you–"
"I didn't mean to. I told you it came out wrong. I didn't mean that Edward had lied... or that I thought he had. Or think it now...
"I meant that he hadn't. And that I was lying to myself when I did think it. And told myself I still had to despite what I could see. The truth that I could."
Thank you, Jasper... But as much as it means to me to hear those words from him...
Actions would mean so much more. "So, tomorrow... ?"
He looks back across the grass to where tomorrows never come the way they should...
The way I'd kill for them to...
And gives me the best wedding present he could.
Himself. "I'll take you to him."
"Thank you... for spending the day with me. I'm sure there were other things you wanted to do."
Nothing that was more important than you... or taking away the sadness in your eyes because you were sure I'd say no... "You're welcome. And likewise. About your entire life... that you spent with–and taking care of–me."
"I wouldn't change a minute of it, Isabella. Not the ones that I actually was, and not just thinking I was and fucking it up."
"There weren't many of those," I tell him honestly, because there weren't. And not a single one until he thought what I wanted most–and who finally wanted me the same–would risk or hurt me me in a way he never did. "And not nearly as many as the good ones. So few, in fact, that they aren't even worth mentioning. Ever again. Or beating yourself up over now."
"I wish you weren't so forgiving. And so willing to forget, or sweep under your perfectly placed rug, the things people have done to hurt you. Or could do..."
"He won't do anything to hurt me, Jasper. I think–believe–that you know that in your heart. And know that you've even admitted it... to both of us... in almost every way you could.
"And don't forget–or pretend–that I didn't beat every one of you who hurt me with that rug before I put it back into perfect place. I have a temper, too. And can be kind of mean sometimes."
He smiles at that, that thing he can't deny, and then his face changes. And he tries to impart one more piece of advice. A last, perhaps, or at least, he may think is, since his eyes are so desperate. "Don't forget that you can be... IF you ever need to be. Or should, no matter how hard it is for you find fault with that person you think can do no wrong."
"I promise. And that if I can't bring myself to... I'll let you for me. If you promise not to waste time waiting for it to happen, because, with all of my heart, I don't think it will."
"It better not."
I smile at him now, not mad at his threat, because he wouldn't be my brother if he didn't make it...
And ask for one more thing from him. "Can I ask you something? Or for, rather?"
He lets out a gush of breath but nods. "Of course you can ask..."
As long as you hear me, it might be enough... "You said you'd take me to him... and you'll never know how much it means to me that you did... and that you will... but can you just think about what else it would mean so much if you could do? And where you could take yourself? After you do?" Please, Jasper...please please please...
He looks at the ring on my finger–the one I have to give him credit for not trying to pull off of it when he first saw it there, or anytime since–and shakes his head. "Just because you've forgiven, Isabella, doesn't mean that he has. Don't think that his sweeping it under your rug means that. Because I think he only did that for you. Because dealing with the mess I made was more than enough for you, and he didn't want you to have any more."
Well, you opened the door... or lifted the rug... "Isn't that just further proof of how much he loves me? And doesn't want me to ever hurt?"
"You're always thinking, aren't you?" he asks, instead of answering my question. "About him? And how you can put him in the most complimentary, perfect light?"
And my answer is so easy... "Yes. But that's because he deserves to be in it. And has earned being. More than earned, Jasper...
"And for you to stand beside him again. So that you can see... and hear... from the nearest possible place... him promise to always."
"You seem so sure that he wants me there..."
"I am."
"I'm not."
"He asked you to be. Even though he knew you'd say no... and still doubted him... he still asked you."
"But maybe that was for you, too..."
"On some level, maybe. But not only for. He loves you, Jasper. No matter what's been said... or done... he never forgot all of the years of what was before. And what no one could ever surpass. You're his best friend. And he's yours. And was a better one to you that anyone could have been. And better to me because of you. Because he'd do ANYTHING for you. And DID. So much...
"Please remember that. Don't sweep it under a rug. Any rug. And remember that he asked you after you acted like you'd forgotten. And that none of it meant anything to you anymore...
"Please, Jasper. Want to protect me above all else, but don't hurt me yourself by hurting him. I'm begging you."
Jasper never responded to my plea...
But I know he heard me. And felt what it meant. And not just because he watched the tears trickle down my cheeks by the time I got to the end of it. And not because he wiped them away with love for me.
But because what I said was true. And real. Something he knew–and felt–in his own heart.
I know boys are supposed to be tough... and strong... and the ones I love are... couldn't be more of either...
But it's not all they are.
And though they'd never say it out loud... they do love each other. In that tough guy way.
We wouldn't be here now if they didn't. If they hadn't stuck by each other. Through everything... good and bad.
And I know Jasper's thinking about that now. That he has been since I asked him to. To think... and to remember... and to forgive that betrayal he felt when Edward stopped denying he loved me, too. In a way that was special... and different... new, in every possible way for him...
And still, when he grabs his keys from the table and walks to our front door...
Looking at me with his hand gripped fiercely around the knob...
That he turns with his forgiveness.
And my heart to beautiful, happy mush with it.
And his answer. "I'll be at Edward's if you need me. Or us..."
Edward
Isabella is spending the day with Jasper, so when I hear the hard knock on my door, I'm sure it's Emmett, trying for the hundredth time to drag me out for my, as he calls it, 'last night of life'. Even though he's jealous of the one I'll live...
So, I'm more than a little surprised when I open it with my broken record "NO" and see Jasper standing on the other side of it. "Sorry, I thought you were Emmett."
"No such luck."
"Are you kidding me? If I have to hear or look at him one more time today, I'll need Sam to cover up his murder."
"I'll help with that covering up if you make it a double and kill his sidekick-in-stupid along with him."
"With pleasure. And I might even be willing to do the time for that one–a life sentence even–if the one I'll have the honor of starting to serve tomorrow wasn't waving its pretty white bow at me."
I wait for the I CAN STILL KILL YOU, YOU KNOW glare, but it never comes. And instead he asks if he can come in.
And I don't answer that, instead just moving aside so he can. He, and his gratitude. "Thanks for today. For letting me have her to myself."
"You don't have to thank me for that, Jasper. She's going to miss you just as much as you'll miss her. She wanted to spend the day with you. Before she's stuck spending them all with me."
"Talk about a life sentence someone's dying to serve..."
"It means the world to me, you know... that she is."
"It better."
"It does. And that won't change. And neither will the fact that you're her brother, who she loves more than you'll probably ever know, and can spend the day with anytime she wants to. Any day."
"That's generous of you."
"Well, I'll get all of her others, so..."
"I know."
I know you do... "Is she at home now?"
"Yeah. I wanted to talk to you without her watching. Or listening."
"Is this the part where you kill me? And ask Sam to help you cover up my murder?"
"No. I don't want to do that. Not anymore, anyway."
"Want something to drink?" I ask him, instead of why he is here. Because he doesn't look like it's easy for him to be. Not easy at all.
In fact, he looks so much like it isn't that it reminds me of how he looked the day we found out Ethan was never coming home when his sentence was served. Because someone else had issued him a new one... a death sentence... and carried it out... with a despicable 'homemade' blade... just because he tried to help another someone who was weaker and more vulnerable than he was...
To try to save a life to in some way try to make up for the one he took... though, in my opinion, he shouldn't have had to pay any price for taking it. He should have been put up on a pedestal higher than any I've ever seen, or certainly ever been on, for that... what he did to protect her...
And because he was just that kind of person. The protective kind... and the caring... and the selfless... if it was in his living and breathing power to be...
"Yeah. Whatever you've got," Jasper finally answers, pulling me from the painful ones we live with everyday. And without...
"I think I have a few beers left in here," I say, and head to the kitchen to grab us each one.
And when I head back with them, he's plucking his fingers over the strings of my guitar, one of the only things still here, since after tomorrow, I won't have to come back to this place. To sit alone and try to pluck away my painful frustrations... the seconds, and minutes, and months of them I've managed to endure for her... the reason he's here, I'm sure. For her...
"You sang for her..." he says before I can say anything. "In front of people. People besides me. And her... You sang for her in front of everyone."
"Well, I had to do something epic to one up that damn fireman teddy bear she thought was so cute."
He laughs, at me, a laugh like I haven't heard from him in a long time. And didn't think I'd ever hear again... "I never thought I'd see you jealous of anyone. For anything... but for a woman? That was definitely EPIC."
He's not talking about that day I sang to her. There were no teddy bears present on the day he means. The first time I got jealous. The day when everything changed. The day he stopped laughing at anything. The day he started to hate me. And maybe himself.
But I won't go back there with him. To that day the look on his face now tells me he's back in, and reliving. So I focus on the one thing, the one person, he could never hate. "Yeah, well... your little sister can be mischievous and conniving. When she thinks she has to be."
"And effective," he adds, though I sure as hell knew that already.
"Yes, she is definitely that. Too."
"Clearly. Though she wasn't mischievous and conniving that day. The day you were jealous of the bear, instead of the fireman who gave it to her. Or on the one before it... the night... when he gave us all something... after I almost cost us everything... because I was...
"Well, I don't know what I was exactly, but much worse than anything she could ever do or be... the day after the one when I told her I'd try. The day that I lied. And the day that I'll never, EVER, until the day I die, forget. Or be able to forgive myself for."
I don't want to relive the day he's talking about now, either. Never want to relive it...
And I'm still not sure why he's here. Or what he's trying to do now... I only know that he is. Trying. And will be somewhere else tomorrow, trying even harder... for her...who it's all for. Everything we both try to do.
And have for so long... though we did it as a team once. Which, no matter what's changed or happened since, I'll never forget.
And because I won't, and because I think he might most like to forget the events of another day... one that came before all of the rest of those regretful ones... and one that he, no matter how hard he tries, may never be able to truly forgive me for...
"I'm sorry for you that I was weak, Jasper," I tell him, because I feel like I owe him that much. To take that responsibility. "To what she is... " But he needs to understand that that's the only way I'll take it. And the only way I'm sorry for it. "But NOT for her. I'll never be sorry that I was for her."
"You'd hurt her if you were," he says without so much as a pause for a breath, that truth undeniable, even for him. "And on that day... the day that I hurt her so much it nearly killed her...
"You were anything but weak, Edward. You were strong from the minute I showed up at Sam's. And through all of the minutes after that I tried to make you out to be something else.
"You were strong for her. You put her first. I thought I was... and fighting to... but you were the one who did. And who protected her. And who knew where to look for her... where to find her... when I ripped that safety net you put her in away. And then ripped it to tatters. And her heart...
"And when we did find her... where you knew she'd be... was trying to get to because I made her need to... you were still stronger. Because you beat me to her. With the strongest fight I'd ever seen in a man.
"And you wouldn't budge from that spot once you did. That place with her... where I put you before you put yourself there... where... Fuck, this is hard!... where you... should be... because no one... not even me... could ever protect her better. Or take care of her better... the right way...
"Like you did on that night. So much more right. And so much better... because you stayed strong while I stood and watched helplessly... and weakly... so despicably weakly...
"Just wishing it was me instead. Crying. Praying. Begging God... that I would be punished, not her... but that I wouldn't be through... not again... "
He stops. Relives those moments again. The ones his trying is all because of. And, though I wish he wouldn't, would just let them go, I let him. And hope that his doing it–doing it here, in front of me–means he's trying to.
And after I watch those moments pound their relentless fists one after the other over him... and into... he nods his head. And lets out a heavy breath. And then downs half of his beer and looks at me. "And I wasn't. Wasn't made to pay that ultimate price again. I didn't lose her that night. Her... who I've lived and breathed for to try to make up for what it was my fault was taken from her on one so long before it...
"But I did lose something. Because I forgot again after it how strong you'd been. That night and always. For her. And for me.
"And how I said I'd try again–though I shouldn't have had to... say I'd try... because you'd earned effortless from me–while she slept in that hospital bed between us...
"I lost something. Something important. Someone. Someone second in importance only to her.
"I lost you. Because I was too weak to remind myself of that. Too weak to admit I was wrong. To you. And too weak to call you my friend. The best one I–or anyone–could ever have had. And the most selfless. And, on everything that's pure and true and real, the most generous.
"And I... I'm sorry, Edward. That I was so fucking weak."
I take a swig of my own beer now, and look down at my guitar, and think about how hard some things are to do. When you have an audience.
Jasper's never been one to worry about that... or what anyone would think about those parts of him he let people see... the ones that never could have been seen as weak...
The fighting parts. The fierce...
Because they were for her. That beautiful girl we both love. Who, I have no doubts about, is what this was for. Or what brought him here, at least.
I had asked Jasper to be my best man. To stand beside me on the day I would finally become one...
It wasn't hard... even knowing he would say no...
Because, no matter what had happened, I just couldn't imagine anyone else there. In that place...
And yes, it hurt that he didn't want to be there...
But not as much as it hurt later. Because it hurt Isabella. It broke her heart. Took the happiness right out of her eyes and off of her face and replaced it with tears.
And knowing he spent this day with her...
And knowing her...
And how much she wants everything to be perfect...
And right...
And that time was almost up to make it... "You didn't lose anything, Jasper."
"Just like that?"
"No, It was always like that."
"She's not here, Edward. She's not watching. Or listening–"
"She is here."
"Okay, yes, she is, but not only. I–"
"I know. And I know that you being here is like me singing to her that night. In front of everyone...
"It's not an easy thing. And, like you didn't for me that night–and, believe me, I know you could have, and probably suffered actual physical pain from not–not something I'm going to make harder. And not just because she wouldn't like it."
"The only thing that caused me physical pain was having to listen to you SING."
I laugh and take another swig of my beer–and flip him off–but the light moment is over before I've even swallowed it. "Why, then? WHY aren't you?"
"You're going to make me say it?"
"There's a lot of things you should say."
"Maybe... but you said most of them for me. Though calling yourself weak isn't one of those things, because I'd never say that. Or think it."
"You're not that nice, Edward. Say what you REALLY feel. Because, again, she isn't here. And will never hear it."
"What I really feel? She doesn't have to hear it, Jasper, because she already knows."
"No she doesn't. Because you'd never tell her something so ugly."
"Ugly? I don't think it's ugly... a little 'sweet', perhaps, for the raging bull MEN that we are... but not ugly."
"What?"
"So, you are going to make me say it? Fine. I'm MAN enough.
"I love you, you fucking idiot. And I never stopped just because I fell in love with her. Or because you hated me for it. And I never didn't consider you my friend. My BEST. Even though you acted like a complete asshole to me for most of the last year. Because I already knew you were that, which is probably why we were best friends all of the ones before it... two peas in a pod, so to speak..."
He stares at me for a minute, the apology I heard before my declaration of my acceptance of it repeating itself in his silence. And then I see my friend again. And hear him... the asshole... "Jesus, Edward, when the fuck did you get so sweet and sappy? Did my sister do that to you?"
"Effective, remember?"
"Yeah... pussy."
I flip him off again, and then shrug helplessly. Though it's not exactly the term I'd use to describe myself... "So, are you really going to make me stand there by myself tomorrow? Or are you going to man up and take your place next to me?"
"You mean my place that you asked Emmett to fill?"
"What the hell are you talking about? I didn't ask Emmett to fill anything."
"He said you did."
"Well, if he said I did, he lied."
"Maybe he didn't say you asked him... but he definitely said he was the best man. Repeatedly."
"He's Emmett, he probably meant it in the literal sense." Fucking idiot...
"That too, I'm sure, but no... he meant for the wedding."
"Well, then that's just what he appointed himself. And not something I approved or agreed to. And not what I want."
"What you want still makes my blood boil."
"I know. But... ?"
"But I'll already be up there anyway... bringing her to you... "
"So... ?"
"So, what's an extra couple of steps. You know... since it would CLEARLY mean the world to your sappy ass."
He smirks at me...
And it's like looking in a fucking mirror...
And then he drains his beer and smacks me on the shoulder and shoves me towards my front door. "Come on... she may have been willing to spend the day with me... but not seeing you for the whole of it didn't make her happy. And certainly didn't make her smile. And if I EVER see anything but a smile on her face ever again–"
You won't, Jasper... "NEVER. GONNA. HAPPEN. DARLIN."
xx
I KNOW! What you wanted... but this thing was already a beast when I got to this point, so... THE NEXT ONE, I PROMISE. And that's a promise with no ifs. And no maybes. And no 'I'll try's. Cross my mushy heart. And hey... at least we answered one mystery, right? It's something?
Like the conversations in this one, that I think were. And necessary (mostly). To get everyone where they belonged. Because they weren't all there yet. And 'yet'... well, you know how important that is! At least, you better.
And just a little FYI... I've been posting sneak peeks of YET on my author fb page. Pretty peeks. So, if you want to see them, come find me and tell me and I'll add you.
Thanks for reading. And for your patience. See you on THE NEXT ONE. xo
