-Chapter 4: Tempus Edax Rerum-
'Is the sun in your eyes, easy rider?
Do the flame colored skies light your fire?
We are heavy metal lions,
They will never understand,
The kind of people you or I am.
Bow your heads and take your hands.
Does the ocean inspire, easy rider?
Do the stars and the wind take you higher?
You are California proud,
You are angels of the night.
Rock and Roll guardians now,
The last keepers of the light.
They were angels forever,
Forever angels.
They were angels forever,
Forever angels.'
-Lana Del Rey
48 Years Later
Montbéliard,
Franche-Comté
France
1st November, 2081
Rosalie
"Excusez-moi, Rosalie?"
"Oui, entrez. Ah, Olivier – bon! La branche Anglaise n'a rappel avec une estimation? Pratiquez votre Anglais un peu."
"Oui, ah...yes. They also said you are due for attend the ceremony this week."
"Due to attend, chéri. Did you tell them no?"
"I tried, but they are insist."
"They insist or they are insisting. Tell them the usual story. Send whoever wants to go."
"But do you not think you should go? It is your company!"
"Send someone else, please? S'il vous plaît, comme une faveur?"
"Bien sûr, mais je pense qu'il vous ferait du bien de sortir un peu de temps."
"If I want to get away for a while, I'll do just that. Is there anything else?"
"Yes, Bureau de Poste de Suisse emailed to say you have receive a letter."
"Received a letter. You're getting better, keep practicing. I'll answer it myself. Thank you, chéri."
"Avec plaisir!"
I waited until Olivier was all the way out of the door before I let out a breath. A letter so soon? That was most unusual. The PO Box I had in Switzerland was really only ever used by Esme, the one person who had persisted in trying to contact me through Jasper.
Through his nagging, I had relented and opened up a private Post Office Box where she could send me letters. She sent me one letter a year, despite the fact that I never replied. The content of the letters was always very neutral and vague, but still incredibly welcomed. She was my one true link to the family I had left behind so long ago. It was a bittersweet pleasure to hear from her.
Esme would talk about where they were staying, people they had met, roles they were playing. The weather, the house, new décor, new books. She never mentioned specific people – aside from herself and Carlisle. The closest she got was one line at the bottom of the letter saying, 'We are all well.' This was the farthest she would go to reassure me. I was certain that by "well" she meant not dead and that was enough for me. She always sent the letter in the same month, September. It was now November, so why had she sent another?
Could it be from Jasper instead...no, it couldn't be Jasper? The only other person who knew of the PO Box. He had a cell phone number on which to contact me. That number was used for the few and far between times we would meet up, spending a few months in each other's company. The last time I had seen him was in July.
Perhaps it was some mistake? The Swiss Office had never made a mistake before, though. I decided to take the private jet over to collect the letter personally. Switzerland was barely a 45 minute flight from Franche-Comté, one of the three places I lived while in Europe.
In the forty-eight years since I had left the family, my definition of normal had been completely redefined. My first four years had been spent moving around the world, hiding away from phantom pursuers who may or may not have been trying to find me.
Those had been the worst years of my life. I'd done little but vacillate between crying for weeks on end and hating myself so much that I'd actually considered suicide.
Though the idea persisted, I never came closer than wishful thinking and the occasional bout of planning. I had tried not to pay too much attention to the underlying reasons why it was never a serious option. I knew that it was because of him. Closed though our connection was, I instinctively knew if something were to happen to me, he'd know and be helpless to follow. There was no way I could ever allow that. So I lived, I continued on and pushed forward all the while pretending that it was for myself alone.
Thankfully like most things in this world, time had devoured the worst of my agony. It left me carved out but stronger and ultimately able to go on.
I had realised that in order to live without everything I'd ever known, I would actually have to live.
Having endured the worst of my depression, I turned my focus to more positive, less self-centered aspects of this so called life. The first step towards that meant deciding what I could offer the world. Surprisingly that turned out to be helping people. How had I gone through so much of my immortal life being so incredibly selfish? I didn't know, but it was eye-opening to say the least.
Through my attempts at hiding during those first four, deeply paranoid years, I had come to meet children and teenagers who were doing the same thing, if for very different reasons. Most of them were teenage runaways, some were much younger. Despite not knowing much from their walks of life, they were kind to me, thinking me one of them. Taking me in and showing me the best places to sleep and hide formed a bond that became long lasting. It really was their plight and true hardship which pushed me passed my self-indulgent depression. It would commence a new chapter of my life.
The first thing I did was use a large chunk of my money to buy a place for them to live. I bought the property with the simple intent of giving it to the homeless kids who I in turn came to love very much. Sadly, they were always getting into trouble, usually through no real fault of their own. I had simply wanted them to have somewhere safe to stay. A place to call home. So I bought a house, doing most of the renovations myself; with a little help from some of the older ones. It took a few months and some elbow grease, but soon enough it was quite pleasant. I would have left them to it, moving on, but I realised that they were still vulnerable. They needed someone to take care of them – a mother perhaps, and if not that then a friend at the very least.
I fell for them all, loving them beyond any capacity I thought possible for humans. I stayed with them, taking care of them best I could. I would eventually adopt most of that first group, albeit unofficially.
If they thought I was weird, never going outside during sunnier days and hardly aging - they never said a word. Some of them had suspicions, I knew that. Still, they never questioned it and were fiercely protective of me. Eventually, some adults from the surrounding neighborhood came knocking, demanding to know what was going on. Despite the kids trying to protect me, I eventually met with them and explained what I was doing, or at least what I was trying to do. They asked if I could do the same in the next town.
Thus an idea became a trend, which became an organization. I funded it all myself at first, using up almost every dollar in every account I'd ever had to just give kids a home. But like most things easily imagined, it was so much more complicated than I'd anticipated. It wasn't as simple as buying a place, plonking the kids in it and waving goodbye. Between the legalities, putting the frame structure into place and working hard to ensure it all took off, my life became filled to capacity. Through my own hard work and the initiative of others, my idea became realised. Whitlen Haven was established and became a leading organization for misplaced and homeless children. Through Education, work-initiative programs, and helping kids live a structured life we became a leading voice for the voiceless.
Of course, not every child could be helped. It took me time to realise that one could only be helped if he or she wanted it. One couldn't be forced. Humans and vampires alike had their free agency. Still, I worked hard to find those who could be helped. As the organization became all but global, my role had to become diminished. The unexpected scrutiny the company was put under, not to mention the attention from the press, forced me to withdraw as any kind of public face for Whitlen Havens. I learned through well paid lawyers, cooperate legalities and shading here and there I could still retain my place in the company yet use trusted front people: select few of the older kids who knew me for what I was, placing them in each division the company represented.
Through their help and participation, Whitlen Havens became a success. After initial success, I stopped representing the company entirely, allowing them take the focus as my proxies. The founding CEO of the company remained filed under the name Estevane Hofler Topp: a crude, but thus far effective anagram for 'Servant of the People'. Rosalie Hale ceased to exist with regards to the official company.
Occasionally, the company even won awards for its vast achievements in the communities we had settled in. Often the CEO would be asked to attend, but I always sent one of my branch leaders. Secrecy was imperative, and everyone who worked directly for me understood that.
Through my success and advances in the both the human and vampire world, the Volturi had been quite another problem altogether.
My desk phone rang suddenly, pulling me out of my reverie.
"Allo?" I answered.
"But he who dares not grasp the thorn should never crave the Rose!"
I laughed, despite myself. "It's definitely a Brontë," I answered in reply to the new, ever changing quiz about quotes with the word "rose" in them. "Anne?"
"Correct. I need more Scandium. These other scientists doubt my ability to produce miracles."
Sighing, I shook my head. This was the weekly phone call I received from a dear friend of mine.
"Roman, no-one doubts your abilities in any way, shape or form. Why do you need it?"
"I need more of it because I used up what I had on a rather unsuccessful attempt at creating personal antigravity travel. Again."
"You're determined to be the first one to crack it, I'll give you that!"
"It's only a matter of time," he replied smugly, though it was mostly a front. "I'm also moving to trial for the haemo-supplements. It's almost perfected."
"Who are the test subjects?"
"Me, of course. No volunteers here, I'm afraid. If all goes well, you can call your Vultures and tell them we have another product they can profit from."
I sniggered at Roman's nickname for the Volturi. Yes, they would be very pleased if we had a supplement that could temporarily suppress the thirst for blood. Especially useful for newborns, considering they were usually the Volturi's most prominent problem. I would bring it up during my quarterly call to them.
"Great work, as always," I told him earnestly. "I'll be coming to see you next month. What shall I bring you?"
Roman was subject to his whims, and it was fun anticipating what strange, idiosyncratic requests he was brewing up.
"More of that very old wine, the vinegary one. Wet dirt from under the tree's in the centre of the woods. And bones. Bones from anything you kill. Make sure they're less than three days old."
"Got it. Anything else?"
"Find me a book I haven't read. Anything in old Slavic."
"I'll do my best, darling," I promised fondly. "I'll call you before I leave."
"More Scandium, please don't forget. I'll send you the invoice!"
I put the phone down with a smile. Roman was my only vampire friend not connected in any way to my previous life. Our paths had crossed twenty-nine years ago while I was in Slovakia.
Some of the local kids warned me about a crazy guy who would claw and snarl if anyone got too close. When I found him, after a few nights of searching, he was the filthiest, grimiest thing I'd ever seen. From what I could tell, he had been turned at roughly the age of twenty-five, yet he had no real memory of it. It reminded me of Alice, somewhat.
He was crazed beyond anything I'd ever seen a vampire afflicted with. I suspected the cause was a lack of blood over what might have been decades. It was with the lure of blood that I managed to get him to follow me. I spent the next several months gaining his trust enough to let me get to know him.
I took care of him for a while, staying in a very remote village where there was little suspicion and even less interference. Through hard work, patience and kindness, I got him to finally talk to me. It took two solid months, but it was worth it. When he spoke, he tried to speak in very broken English. I detected an eastern European accent and tried speaking to him in several other languages but he responded to nothing but English.
More time passed and where I travelled, he came. With each passing month his English improved, his instability evened out, and his passion for reading was utterly insatiable. He rivalled even Carlisle in his love of anything medical, scientific and the occasional romance (which he tried to hide). He admitted that despite his improvements, he still didn't know his own name. He asked me to choose one for him. I chose Roman.
Two years after I'd first met him, I knew he was independent enough to leave my care. He professed how afraid he was of returning to a world that had made him so unhinged, so primitive. Fears I was intimately acquainted with. The world could be a terrifying place to face alone.
But I knew he needed to fly on his own for a while. Though I loved having him with me, he needed to learn who he was without my interference. It was during this period of indecision that we both stumbled upon something very important, something I had long since suspected about him.
Roman was an absolute genius. In the two years spent in his company I had witnessed him master nine languages, devour my entire literary collection and every recommendation for every book I knew of. One day, he looked up at me from whatever book he was flying through and said, "I would like to conduct an experiment."
It was the start of something huge. After six months of said experiment, Roman had created a chemical compound that when applied to vampire skin, completely dampened the sparkling effect – in a way that no paint or make-up had ever been able to before. Unbelievably he had perfected it to the point where we could walk outside on the sunniest of days and not sparkle.
That was only the beginning. His invention became the olive branch I had been seeking to offer the Volturi; they had been watching me very carefully and impatiently for some time.
Through trial and error, I learned my company could not function without those who knew what I was. The Volturi did not allow humans to know of vampires, but it was essential to my new life. And thankfully, Roman's invented compound changed it all.
After getting a meeting with the head Volturi, and nervously explaining to them what I had to offer, the wheels began to be greased. No longer would I be penalised for telling a certain few what I truly was. What I was offering them was a game changer and they knew it. Vampires being able to walk in the sun, unrecognised amongst humans, it revolutionised our very existence.
In exchange for my lifestyle (yet still being watched under the ever present eye of the Volturi guard), Roman would mass produce the compound for widespread use, and the Volturi could regulate it and distribute it as they saw fit. Although Roman retained full ownership of his invention (I had been unswerving on that point), the Volturi understood my need for secrecy. They were all too happy to maintain secrecy about the specifics. As far as the world was concerned, someone working for the Volturi had invented it. .
Roman had many more ideas for the betterment of our species and was bank-rolled through the Volturi. He was given the equipment and space he needed for his creations. Over the next twenty-five years, Roman invented numerous incredible things for both vampires and humans alike. His contributions to science were extraordinary and his research had been published three times – under a false identity. His efforts were the direct source of funding for Whitlen Havens, per his demands.
Being stationed in a very removed part of Germany and not too far from where I lived in France, I visited him often.
France was one of my favourite places and where I had been living in Montbéliard for the last seven years. The village was remote, quiet and we operated there without interference. There were plenty of deer in the wilderness surrounding the village, but I took the occasional long hunting trip for better game. The weather was mostly rainy, the village itself was prone to floods and that worked in my favour. It kept things remote, low in population; not many people wanted to move to a flood-prone village.
Sadly, I would soon have to move to one of my other homes in either Romania or Western Italy, for some years so as not to arouse suspicion. But such was the life of a vampire, I was always moving on, always changing addresses. The PO Box was the only address I had that didn't change.
The unexpected letter came back to me, nagging for attention once more.
After calling to fuel up my private jet and have it on standby, I left the office. Well, it wasn't so much of an office, as it was a very large renovated château. It was listed as a private residence and the area around it was so sparsely populated that the secrecy it offered was priceless. The château was both living and work space. Since I no longer had any children living with me, it was convenient. It made me sad, recalling how happy I had been living with them and looking after them, but it was a small sacrifice to make knowing the sheer amount of good the organization accomplished.
I left before those who worked for me did. The jet was indispensable to me; allowing me to travel from branch to branch, country to country, without having to use public transport. It was especially useful when Roman was lonely and needed me there for support.
I couldn't help feel a strange, queasiness throughout the flight. It had nothing to do with flying, but was more a sense of foreboding. The letter. Why was there a letter? When there had never been one outside of schedule before?
It was enough to leave an unpleasant after-taste in my mouth. Something bad might have happened. I knew that was a real possibility, but I couldn't believe it, not until I saw it for myself. My own internal sense of pessimism was hard to suppress.
Thankfully, the private Post Office Box was accessible to me twenty-four hours a day. Ordinarily, I would have the letter sent to wherever I was at the time, but I felt a sense of urgency. I couldn't wait this time. Wouldn't Jasper have called me if anything serious had happened? I checked the phone in my bag, just to be sure. No missed calls or messages. Why the letter, then?
I had a car waiting for me at Neuchâtel Airport once I'd landed. It would take me directly there and back again. The closer I got to the Post Office and consequently the letter, the more nervous I began to feel. By the time we arrived, a mere thirty minutes later, after landing, my hands were trembling a little.
"Bonsoir, mademoiselle!" the manager of the Office greeted me. "Vous n'avez pas besoin d'aide avec votre boîte?" I shook my head, managing only a tight smile. I did not need help with my box, I just needed the letter. He led me to the private room with where my mail was stored. It was the first time I had been inside the room in years. The letter was inside a safe in the wall, behind a large desk with a computer and a phone. I used my key to open the safe and retrieve the letter.
With a relieved breath, I studied Jasper's handwriting on the front. His individual calligraphy evident in the curls and flicks of S's and R's. Yet, I still couldn't shake the niggling feeling. I didn't hesitate as I opened it there and then, in that very room.
It was a long letter, several pages filled with his lovely handwriting on fairly expensive paper. My knees hit the back of a chair as I sat and began to read.
'My dearest Rosalie,
You will forgive me for doing this in a letter. Truly, you are the only one for whom I would deign to even leave a note for, mundane as it is. But I feel you are worthy of my last words, of an explanation – not that you would really need one, but still...the gesture remains as I intended it. You have always known me the best, been my sister and best friend when I thought myself truly alone. You and I were always bound by something the others could not comprehend. I know you will forgive me and help the others to forgive in time. I was not made to endure eternity, as you were. My darling Rose, so strong and resilient. You were my inspiration throughout, did you know that? But I cannot mimic or adopt your strength any longer. I yearn for change, for newness. I yearn for rebirth in any form and I have grown tired of this one. I have lived beyond my intended years, seen sights and beheld phenomenon that few on this planet ever will. I have lived through dark times and good times. I have lived enough. I am sorry for...'
I looked up unable to read more. Jasper. No. What had he said the last time we'd met? "To die?" he had laughed softly. "To die would be an awfully big adventure!" His eyes had been so accepting, excited almost.
My mind went straight to one thought and one thought only: Esme's last letter. She'd told me of the place they were living, the town itself in beautiful detail. Not a specific address of course, but that didn't matter to me.
I could find my way back to them. I had been a Cullen once, if not still one of them, deep down. I knew the kind of place they would choose.
I folded the letter, without reading the rest and carefully placed it back in the envelope stowing it away inside my handbag. I left the room quickly not even uttering a word to the polite manager. Once inside the rental car, I shakily instructed the driver to get me back to Neuchâtel as quickly as possible.
Strongly ignoring the instincts that screamed at me this was a mistake, I began making calls; arranging a flight from Zurich that would get me to where the Cullens had been as of two months ago; Westport, New Zealand.
2078
May 17th
Guildhall, London.
"And the Charity Award for Outstanding Achievement goes to...Whitlen Havens!"
I couldn't suppress the smile as I watched the crowd erupt into applause, the inspirational music fading down. It hadn't been a mistake to come, despite what I'd warned Jasper of. His insistence that I attend at least one ceremony hadn't waned; therefore I gave in, agreeing to go as long as he would accompany me. And that we go using false identities, of course; that was a given.
I watched as one of my protégés got to the stage to accept the award. She wore a big smile and a beautiful dress. Jasper and I observed from the table furthest from the front, protected by shadows and anonymity
"Wow, thank you so much!" she gushed appropriately. "This is such an incredible honour to accept this award on the behalf of Whitlen Havens. The organisation works with thousands of homeless children every day and the more recognition we receive, the more good we can do. Tonight I speak for all of us when I say thank you for your votes. We will continue to do everything we can to help those in need."
I definitely couldn't help the broad smile spreading over my face, but Jasper didn't have to look so very smug about it.
"Shut up," I grouched, playfully. "OK, so I'm basking in the reflected glory that my organization has earned. Big deal. There's no need to look so happy with yourself."
His good-natured chuckles lightened my spirit. . I cherished hearing my brother laugh. "As always, I am Master of the Universe and I go where needed. To think, you would have sat home tonight, alone with nothing but maudlin contemplations of eternal life," he intoned with an exaggerated air of self-satisfaction.
Though the awards ceremony was now complete, there was to be a large party for the attendees, ballroom style in the hall. The wait staff began moving tables and chairs to one side, making room so people could dance. A swing band was setting up on the stage.
"Don't let your head swell too much, He-Man," I warned jokingly. "The double doors might pose a problem on the way out."
"Oh, we're not leaving." His voice still held that same smugness. "Not by a long shot."
"You want to stay and mingle?"
He sighed. "Rose, you put on a dress. A pretty one. I'm wearing a tuxedo. There's a swing band. I think you know where I'm going with this."
"Back to my house?" He gave me a withering look. "No way," I said flatly. "I should go before anyone gets suspicious."
He leaned in close and whispered, "Your secret is safe for one night, Cinderella. Come on, one dance. Even you can take time out of your busy schedule for one dance, right?"
The sweet tones of the band were just starting up, bringing with it a bitter-sweet feeling of nostalgia. The floor was totally empty and even fully grown adults were hesitant about being the first ones on to dance. I could feel the inevitable coming.
"One dance," I relented, trying not to smile.
"We'll see." Taking me by the hand and leading me out onto the dance floor, we started to let the music move us. 'Beyond the Sea' by Bobby Darin was playing, reminding me of decades past. We were totally alone, no-one else brave enough to follow our lead just yet. I couldn't help but fall into the rhythm and dance with my brother.
He and I were more than proficient on our toes. After a few beats, we were flying across the floor. This was the opposite of maintaining a low profile, but for once, I found it impossible to care. I felt weightless, free; like a real person. A good person, even. He knew it, too. Jasper had dragged me to this ceremony, made me dress up, and encouraged me to dance. To let go of my tightly held control for once. I guess he deserved to be smug.
I hadn't felt this good in decades. And as it turned out, it wasn't only once dance. We danced all night.
On the last of the three connecting flights that sped me towards New Zealand, I finally took out the mostly unread letter from Jasper. I hadn't let myself read anything else until it was definite I was going to get to the family as soon as possible. Forcibly I had been holding myself together, waiting to read more until I thought myself actually capable of doing so. My mind, heart and soul felt cast out to sea. I had so little to hold onto and it was only the start of the storm; a tempest of emotions that would tear me apart given the chance.
I knew what he'd done; the feeling in my stomach told me of the certainty. I knew from the first line of his letter that he was gone... gone.
I know you'll forgive me...
It hadn't been until three years had passed – since I first left the Cullen's – that I finally allowed Jasper to visit me. He had found me because he had been looking, or maybe I stopped trying to run so far away. I'd left clues on purpose, wanting to be found. I was a mess, and the need to see a familiar face was all consuming by then.
When Jasper had first arrived and taken in my wretched state, he helped me through it best he could. He took care of me in ways I hadn't know I'd even needed. He had been my brother to the utmost definition: listened to me, cried with me, dressed me even. Sadly his effort hadn't helped much in the beginning because mostly I'd wanted to die; to let the pain finally be over somehow.
Part of me had expected him to be furious with for even suggesting something so extreme. But, he had simply given me a half-smile, like he knew something beyond my comprehension.
"Rose, you're too strong for that. You couldn't do it if you tried."
"What do you know?" I spat at him, lashing out because he was there. "I thought you of all people would understand!"
In his quiet, steady voice, he answered, "I do understand. Believe me, I do. But you're not ready to die. You feel like you are, but you just want the pain to stop. There's a difference between wanting the pain to end and wanting to die. Plus, you'd never forgive yourself."
I sniggered at that, despite my tears. "Forgive myself? I'd be dead. How could I not forgive myself?"
"Well, those you left behind would have to not forgive you."
"No change there, then," I sniffed resignedly.
He pulled me into him, one arm going around my shoulders. He kissed my hair before mumbling, "I wouldn't forgive you and I'm very forgiving."
"Well," I croaked sullenly, "I'd forgive you."
It had been left unspoken, but deeply felt between the two of us which held no true secrets, Edward would never forgive me. And with the possibility of my actions affecting him (an inevitable, unstoppable reaction, always), I knew taking my life was an impossibility.
It had been such a stupid throwaway phrase, said in a time of crisis, which he had remembered. Jasper had taken it literally, holding me to it.
I tried to still the trembling in my body, but the effort was draining. I held the letter for a good thirty seconds before opening it up and continuing from where I left off at the PO Box office...
"I am sorry for leaving you behind. I am sorry to leave anyone, yet it means something to me that I've formed relationships to actually have anyone to leave behind to begin with. You once spoke of wanting to die, Rose, and please know that this is not the same.
I want you to know above anyone else that there was no depression, no sadness or darkness inducing this decision. It is a natural decision, for me. I have lived a certain amount of time and I wish to move on. I cannot stare into the face of eternity the way you can... the way the others can. Nor would I wish to. Two hundred and thirty seven years is more than enough for me. I do not know what awaits me in the next life, or if there even is one. If my consciousness simply comes to an end, that will be as good a reward as any I suppose.
Do you know, I've never been afraid of dying nor of any silent abyss that might follow. I am curious to be sure – excited for any kind of change which has eluded me for centuries. I know you will not think me wasteful of this gift, my Rose. You and I know the hardships of surviving so long, never once seeing any differences in the mirror. Time has played so many tricks on us both that I feel it is time to finally submit to it while saying, "Well done, old friend. You devour all in the end. Take me where I should have gone so long ago."
If I have one true regret, it is...'
A soft beep from overhead made me look up. Surprisingly we were landing in Westport Airport, New Zealand. I had lost track of time in a somewhat worrying manner. Putting the letter away, I promised myself I would finish the rest later. I was on a commercial plane and needed to get off and on my way as quickly as possible. And I still had no idea where in Westport the Cullen's might be living, if at all.
Thus far, my preliminary inquiries on the Cullen's had been fruitless. No Cullens were registered in the area; no Doctor, his wife and their adopted teenagers.
A well of absolute terror threatened to swallow me whole at the thought of seeing any of them again. It had been so long, and I had convinced myself I'd never see them again. Jasper hadn't spoken of them to me. A request I'd never had to verbalise, but one that existed between us. I had no idea what they'd been doing, besides Esme's vague descriptions of where they lived.
I didn't even know if Jasper lived with them at times. He had travelled all over the planet the last thirty years; alternating between staying with Charlotte and Peter, staying with me occasionally and simply being alone.
Jasper ...
I clamped down on the consuming well of paralytic grief and sadness threatening to devour me. I headed straight for the exit, having brought no luggage with me, trying to get my next move straight in my mind
Intent as I was in my thoughts, it wasn't until I got near the exit doors when I caught a familiar scent. It was not at all expected. I looked around the crowded terminal, hardly able to believe my own senses. But no, there she was.
Alice.
People seemed to move out of my line of sight giving me an unobstructed view. She was standing by the baggage claim, looking right at me. My unbeating heart clenched painfully, causing me to falter and hesitate.
Jesus, she was probably here to murder me, I couldn't help but think.
She must be blaming me in some way for Jasper's leaving. It wasn't enough what I had done to the family long ago, but that I the audacity to come back at a time when they were probably grieving over Jasper must have been unthinkable. I wondered if she was going to attack me there and then in the terminal, or if she was here to send me back on my merry way. But she remained unmoving, simply staring at me in turn.
We stared at each other, not knowing how to proceed; at least on my part. Situations like this didn't come with a handbook.
Eventually, the staring contest had to end, thus I decided to make the first move. It was mine to make after all. I walked towards her, trying to calm myself.
Jasper wouldn't want her to be upset, just take whatever she wants to throw at you, I coached myself. I had no idea what, if anything, Jasper's relationship to Alice had been over the last few decades. He'd never mentioned it and I hadn't the inclination to ask. There were certain things we didn't discuss.
Even though Alice looked unchanged, she seemed paler and her eyes had lost that sparkle they'd once held. At least she was alone; that was one saving grace. Obviously foreseeing my arrival she came to either hurt me or warn me away. Either was deserved and I couldn't begrudge her whatever she felt towards me.
Finally stopping a small distance from her, I sighed shakily, "Alice." My heart felt entirely too heavy. "I–"
The words became stuck in my throat as she seemingly took the most difficult part from me. Without explanation or coercing on my part, she filled in the space between us, outstretching her hand. It looked both fragile and yet strong enough to be a real lifelines to me. I had done everything to steel myself against her attack, but she utterly surprised me. It was more leniency than I deserved and I was taken aback by it.
Crying softly with un-shed tears, she murmured, "Oh, Rose, I'm glad you're here."
For a moment, my arms hung at my side, useless and limp. Since retrieving Jasper's letter, everything seemed to be on autopilot without allowing me the chance to catch my breath. Surely I'd slipped in to some weird vampire version of a daydream. No matter how I tried to shake myself awake, it seemed very surreal.
Yet I reminded myself this was happening. Alice was here, Jasper was...well, not, and I now existed in a reality without my brother.
"Rose," I heard, pulling me from the chaos of my mind. The voice was uncertain and vulnerable.
I left her hanging there, I realized. She had graciously offered me an olive branch and I had yet to accept.
Hesitantly, I lifted my right hand, pushing forward before grasping her small fingers. Part of me genuinely expected her to pull me forward to slap my face. But she remained a hallowed version of her once fiery, esoteric self. Everything was off kilter, spinning relentlessly and I had to fight to keep standing still.
"I s-saw you were coming, and I just... I had to come see you," she mumbled unsteadily. I still couldn't believe she was standing in front of me, clasping my hand as if I would disappear at any moment. "I thought I'd never see you again. But then..."
Trying to unclog my throat, I told her a truth deeply buried in my heart, "I've missed you." A horrible thought struck me hard. Did she know about Jasper? "A-Alice," I softly spoke, tightening my hand around hers. "Do you know about...Jasper?" I trailed off, unable to say it aloud.
A heartbreaking shudder rippled through her chest, sending vibrations down her hand into mine. Her small face crumpled, yet she kept the worst at bay. I admired her strength, I always had. So, she knew and I was incredibly stupid for having even asked. It spoke of my fractured, unstable mind and my inability to think clearly.
Of course she had seen. She was here to meet me, after all.
"I saw it," she whispered. "Saw him, Rose, but too late. Couldn't do anything. He knew how to cover it up till the last moment."
Her broken sentences spoke of her grief. It was a grief we both shared, but in different ways. "Walked into a forest fire," she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. "Looked so calm...so happy. We couldn't do anything. He's gone! Without a word of warning!"
The letter felt heavy in my bag. I would tell her, I really would but not until later. "I'm terribly sorry," I stupidly told her. I had no other words of reconciliation, I hated that word 'sorry'. There needed to be a new word, more words. And everything else became stuck on my dry tongue.
"I know," she said nodding. "I know you are."
Blinking back the stinging burn, I vaguely noticed we were creating quite the scene, but I couldn't find the will to care. Everything seemed swallowed in my grief.
"Do you want me to come back...with you?" I asked, still wary of the situation and the topsy-turvydom my world had become. After all these years apart, Alice and I were holding hands and mourning over the loss of someone we both deeply loved. I had no idea what to expect anymore. Grief had a way of making everything else seem less important.
"Of course I would!" she assured, wiping at the worst of her tears. It was everything I'd ever hoped to hear from Alice, who had once been a sister and more to me. Yet the price it came at was unbearable.
I could tell there was more she wanted to express, but it couldn't happen here. Too many things were simultaneously spinning. With a gentle squeeze of comfort, I pulled my hand from hers and took a deep breath. I needed to hold myself together somehow and while I had a feeling that my brilliant plan to return to all things Cullen was doomed from the outset, Alice needed me and that was enough incentive to try
"Car?" I asked, wanting to get away from the airport as soon as possible.
She nodded and thankfully started walking. I graciously followed.
After settling myself into her car, it was easier to relax away from the crowds and the blood filled humans. I knew it would get worse later, this was only the start.
"Rosalie...I know this is probably too little, too late, but you were always my sister. And despite what went down I do love you. I know things were bad, back then. I-I treated you unfairly because I was angry. God, even jealous! I'm sorry for that. I should have remembered that you were my sister, too."
I didn't know where she found the strength to speak coherently (it certainly evaded me), let alone this generous bout of forgiveness I certainly didn't deserve.
"What?" I choked, looking sideways at her. "Why on earth are you apologising to me? Alice, you've done no wrong. I'm the wrongdoer here, not you!"
"But we're sisters," she cried. "I didn't get the chance to tell you that I still loved you! And I am sorry."
I was too stunned to even reply, so I simply acknowledge her words best I could.
"Where are your bags? Did we leave them behind? Should I get them?"
I was grateful for the shift in conversation, though it came out of left field. "I don't have any bags." I felt so numb, however, with one wrong move I could shatter into millions of pieces. "I-Jesus, I don't know why I even came! Now that I'm here, I feel so stupid! All I could think to do was come here." I let my head drop into my hands. "I shouldn't have come."
"Don't be silly," she said, gracing me with a brave smile. Once more, she reached over and took my hand in hers. It felt like she never intended to let go, but in the interim I wasn't complaining. Beggars couldn't be choosers; I would take anything offered. "You have to come back. Everyone is gathering together...well, not everyone." I heard the quiver in her voice, but kindly ignored it. We were grieving as best we could and my emotions were even more precarious then hers. "Just a few of the people who knew – it's to celebrate his life. You have to be there."
A Wake of sorts. In the chaos that prevailed inside of me, I hadn't even considered it. But of course that's what the Cullen family would do: gather respectfully and celebrate the person who had passed.
Once more I gave her an out. I needed to be sure she wanted me near, regardless of our earlier truce; grief did odd things to people. "If you want me to, I will." I gave her hand a light squeeze, still wondering if this could even be real. "I've missed you."
Her grip tightened before she pulled away, started her car and drove us from the airport towards the inevitable.
The journey to wherever the family had gathered was not as silent and awkward as I'd expected it to be. Our reunion had cleared the worst of the tension between us. Alice had calmed down enough that she wanted to fill any silence with chatter. Something I was quite grateful for, because finding words to think, let alone speak, required herculean effort on my part.
She told me about what had happened between her and Jasper for the last forty-eight years. It seemed to be cathartic for her so I didn't interrupt once, despite badly wanting her to expand on certain topics she brushed over.
Alice explained about how she and Jasper had not been an official couple for a long time, but that he still came to see her at least twice a year. They had remained very close. When she spoke of their closeness, a smile couldn't help but bloom over her sad face.
She also told me that despite asking about me and what I was doing, Jasper never told her or anyone for that matter; he'd been able to even shut Edward out completely, as far as Alice knew. The word anyone sent a thrill of something long-repressed down my spine. It was one of the topics I was burning to ask about, but respectfully restrained myself.
Between Alice's stories, I could feel the car slowing down. I could only imagine we were getting closer to where the Cullens were, and that she could sense my apprehension. Thankfully Alice continued to talk, explaining to me that as much as it hurt her, she wasn't truly shocked at his choice. She had always speculated he was unhappy with this brand of immortality. The saddest part was she wished he had told her of his plan. She wished she could have said goodbye.
But she knew as well as I did that Jasper had always been independent to the last. That was just his style.
The letter in my purse felt heavy once more. Had I been the only one he told? That seemed right since he knew the letter wouldn't arrive before he had completed...it. Trying to contain the ocean of anguish that threatened to break over me was beyond difficult; just the thought of him; his smile, his eyes, my brother, my twin in so many ways – gone forever.
"Rose," Alice said softly, bringing me back to reality. "You don't have to do this."
At some point we must have stopped completely. I knew instantly that this was the place. It may have been a long time, but I would always be able to recognise a Cullen house: Esme's taste, the isolation, the size. Not to mention their smells marking every inch of this place. Suddenly, terror gripped at my heart, refusing to let go. What was I doing here?
Alice hesitantly put her hand on my shoulder, seemingly still unclear of the boundaries between us. "It's going to be OK, Rose."
I laughed humorlessly. "You think?"
I felt incredibly selfish to be thinking of my own discomfort at a time like this. It didn't matter if the family was going to rend me apart limb from limb, I needed to see them. Needed to be here for Jasper. Jasper had brought me back, despite my swearing to him I never would.
"I should probably tell you–" I held my hand up, cutting her off.
"Please...whatever it is, I can't deal with it right now. Unless it's something Jasper related, I just...can't." I knew it wasn't Jasper related, so I didn't wait for her confirmation. I got out of the car and tried to remember how to breathe.
Alice came around to stand beside me, as Jasper would have done in this situation. It sent me reeling, but I held onto myself. "It's good to have you here, Rose," she whispered, patting my arm where she stood.
I allowed myself to believe that having Alice by my side would be enough to face whatever was coming. It didn't matter if it wasn't true, I had to go inside. Jasper's memory superseded all of my emotional pitfalls. It was why I'd flown all the way there, right?
With deep breaths, together we made our way towards the house. I could hear music coming from inside. Painfully my heart clenched. Would this never relent? One of Jasper's favourite songs. 'Queen Jane' by Bob Dylan was playing softly. I staggered a little, wanting to put my hand to my heart because it hurt too much. Incredibly, Alice held me steadfast, yet I should have been the strong one supporting her.
"It's OK," she reassured quietly. "It's going to be OK, I promise."
Kind of her to lie, really. I managed a shaky smile while trying to compose myself, doing everything I could to suppress the last time I heard Jasper singing along to that song driving down a long highway...just the two of us.
The time had come upon me, and before I could allow my resolve to weaken, she opened the door, going in first before I followed.
The immediate recognition of my family came before I saw them. I knew their individual scents like I knew the alphabet. Carlisle, Esme, Nessie, Jacob, Bella, Emmett and...
I took another shuddering breath, doing everything I could to keep the shoddy composure I had in place. He was there, because of course he was there. There were others too, but they were mostly unknown to me. I didn't recognise them from their scents, save for one. Peter. I should have known he'd be here. Sadly, no Charlotte though. She had died seven years ago by way of a similar choice to Jasper. He had told me himself, oddly devoid of grief at the time. It made a lot more sense now.
I followed the hallway Alice had gone down, trying not to stare too long at the pictures on the walls. It was good that I didn't have to breathe to survive, because I really couldn't.
The hall opened into a large room, which lead outside to a very beautiful and expansive backyard. Visitors were congregating, half in the room with music and candles, and half outside in the beginnings of nightfall.
There was nowhere for me to hide. There they all were, looking physically the same as ever. Time had not touched their exteriors any more than it had touched mine. It could have been yesterday that I saw them last and not the forty-eight years it had actually been. But even with everyone still the same, I could tell changes had been made. Unknown experiences to me had shaped their current life and combined with Jasper's passing, it left those who occupied the room seeming quite changed from those people I had left behind.
Everyone was staring at me. I froze, trying to force myself not to turn and run. After a few seconds passed with no-one trying to kill me, I took that as a good sign and came in even further. Alice was waiting for me close by, at least. I put a lot of effort into not looking directly at some people.
The first person to move and come towards me was the one person I'd been expecting. She didn't let me down. Esme swept forward, taking me into her arms and holding me tightly. God, how I'd missed her; still a little shorter than me, her long hair soft and sweet-smelling, her embrace a welcoming harbor and she felt like Mom. My mind swam, overwhelmed beyond belief.
"Oh, my darling girl," she crooned, voice bursting with emotion. "My Rose. It's so good to see you." The force of her hug and strength of her words spoke volumes louder than her words.
Esme's actions gave me the courage to speak, "You too." She seemed reluctant to let me go, but eventually drew back. Her small hand brushed my hair away from my face. It was so reminiscent of days passed.
"You're wearing the camouflage makeup." I was surprised she noticed such a small detail. "We don't have much need for it here, hardly any sun. Is there sun where you are?"
Small talk...I smiled a hesitantly. "Sometimes. I wasn't sure about the sun while I was traveling. Best not to take a chance." I wondered what she'd think if she knew my friend (and consequently my company) produced said product.
This small conversation was a stark reminder of how much had indeed changed and how little we knew of each other.
"It's good that you're here, sweetheart. This is a time for family."
Family? Was I still considered family? Esme would always think of me as such, but I was doubtful about the rest.
I cautiously looked over her shoulder. My heart did that lurching thing again. Carlisle was coming towards me from where he had been speaking to someone I didn't recognise. He had been staring at me the whole time looking as if he was...about to cry. The sheer amount of emotion in his eyes was stunning. He stopped where Esme and I stood.
"Rosalie," he breathed softly. "I..." He seemed not to know what to say; I myself experienced a moment of similar indecision. However, it didn't last long before he pulled me away from Esme and gently into his arms, enveloping me completely.
I took the opportunity to shamelessly bury my face into the crook of his shoulder, allowing him to momentarily carry the weight of my grief. "I knew you'd come home, sweetheart." His voice was filled with quiet vehemence. "I always knew."
It should have felt like coming home. Mom, Dad, Home. However, it wasn't my home. These people couldn't be my home anymore and I had to remember that. This was a visit, nothing more. Best not to let myself get too involved, lest the separation be too difficult to bear.
I pulled my face from its hiding place and saw he and Esme were very close to one another, almost shielding me from everyone else. They probably were and I knew why: the room was big, but not big enough to stop me from spying Emmett, Nessie and Jacob outside, with Edward and Bella inside. They were directly behind Esme and Carlisle; right in front of me.
Inevitable as it was, my eyes were drawn to them. When Esme moved a little, they both came into view and my eyes locked helplessly with his for one full second.
The moment slowed to the point where sound fine tuned itself into silence and time itself seemed to stand still. There was so much being said from his eyes alone, let alone looking upon a face I had tried (and always failed) to forget. Edward Cullen: his hair, his nose, the shape of his chin, his angular cheek bones, his mouth...he was breathtaking and I already had to so little breath as it was.
He was standing by an old stereo, a CD of Pink Floyd in one hand. Bella was very close beside him, her arm brushing against his. Comfortable touching, easy proximity born of love and intimacy. As I followed the length of their arms I couldn't see Bella's hand, but Edward's hand had a ring on it. A plain gold band circling his left ring finger.
Of course.
Of course.
But it was good. This was a good thing...the best really. I had told him, hadn't I? I had pleaded with him to become a good man, with a good woman. He had done just that.
I looked back up, meeting both of their gazes, though I had sworn I wouldn't again. Bella's face showed apprehension, shock and mild dislike. Not that I blamed her in the least. Edward looked flummoxed to see me. The shock of it written all over his beautifully familiar face.
Alice couldn't have told people I was coming, apparently, and I wondered how she kept it from him mentally. I felt an old yet distinctly familiar pressure in my mind and recognised what it was at once. I had long ago perfected the technique of blocking him, therefore it required little effort to effectively shield my mind off entirely. Still, he was trying to see into my thoughts. With Bella standing right beside him, I had to question why?
Jasper. I was here for Jasper. They were all here for Jasper and I would not take attention away from that. I couldn't go to them, no way. I looked back to Esme and Carlisle who both now wore concerned expressions.
I forced a smile. "It's wonderful to see you both again. I'm so...so sorry for Jasper." It felt awkward and stupid to say; what a thing to say at such a time! I was sorry? Jesus. They seemed to understand though.
"We know, darling," Esme said. "It's such a sad thing, but he always went his own way, didn't he? He'd appreciate you coming home for him."
"He did," I replied with a little laugh. Jasper would've liked that. "Can I do anything? Help with anything at all?"
"He didn't leave a will," Carlisle replied. "No letter, no note, nothing. We only know at all because of Peter. Peter was the last person to see him. He was staying with Jasper while in Australia when the fire started."
Carlisle stopped speaking, indicating to Peter who came over to us upon hearing his name mentioned. He kissed me by way of greeting.
"Rose," he said warmly. Peter and I always got along well and it was reassuring to see him.
"Peter can tell you more, if you'd like," Esme offered. "And please don't go rushing off again without saying anything. I will hunt you down this time."
"I won't," I promised a little shakily. She was only joking, but still I felt the truth of her sentiment.
Carlisle and Esme then moved away, heading outside. Peter put his arm on my shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. I welcomed the gesture. Peripherally, I saw or more felt Edward and Bella following Carlisle and Esme outside too.
"So," Peter said with a wry grin, so similar to Jasper in some ways. That hurt. "The ninth level of hell was all out of vacancies so you came here?"
I sighed, rolling my eyes. "I don't know what I'm doing here. I didn't stop to think, I just came. I had to."
Peter nodded sagely. "Maybe he knew you would."
"Perhaps. What happened?" I sadly asked, not really knowing if I wanted details or not. But I had to know something...anything.
"We were staying in a little town named Geeveston, Hobart. I'd always wanted to go to Australia. Never could until now, thanks to your kooky friend," he added with a laugh. "We'd stayed there for about a month. Jasper was talking about how great it was to walk in the sun, with people around. Then a bushfire broke out, near to where we were staying on the edge of Arve Loop Forests. It wasn't too serious, no risk to life where we were. The next day it was still burning, but not as bad."
He paused, assessing if I was able to hear the next part. When he decided I was, he continued, "He arranged a few things, outgoing mail and things like that. Then he said he was going for a walk. That was the last time I saw him. I knew what he was going to do. I'd known for a while."
A very small, resentful part of me wanted to ask why Peter hadn't stopped him, or at least tried. It was overcome quickly, though. Jasper's determination was second to none, not to mention that Peter had endured years of Charlotte's depression at the prospect of eternal life.
"Going for a walk?" I echoed brokenly. I closed my eyes, imagining it. That would be so like Jasper. Just going for a walk, into a bushfire to die. Not involving anyone else, ensuring there was no mess to handle afterwards. Had it been painful? Had he regretted it halfway through? No. I knew Jasper. He wouldn't have changed his mind; he would've embraced it, grateful for the change.
"Don't you go mourning him too much, Rose," Peter said more quietly. "Rejoice at his passing and celebrate his life. Not all of us are built to see forever."
I felt my eyes well up unnaturally. It had been many years since I'd last cried. "I don't know what I'll do without him. How to go on without him..." I managed, throat tight and constricting.
"Yes, you do, and Jasper knew that too. He wouldn't have left you without knowing that much."
I couldn't just stand there and cry, I needed to leave. I felt compelled to find an empty space to gather myself. Thankfully, Peter seemed to understand as I turned away with a hasty nod and sought solitude in that unfamiliar house. I found a bathroom, unused and pristine. I locked myself in, leaning my head against the wooden door.
More tears came as I tried not to let the memories flood in. So many memories.
When I could breathe again, I sat on the edge of the bath and withdrew the letter with shaking fingers. I took a deep, steadying breath before beginning to read from where I'd left off.
'If I have one true regret, it is that I will not live to see perhaps one of the greatest sights I could ever have imagined. But the event itself hinges upon a kind of Grandfather Paradox, preventing me from ever seeing it realised. I'm certain you'll understand one day, my dearest sister. I also regret not seeing Alice a last time. She has always been a part of me. I think she knows that. I loved my time with her most of all. Being married to her comprised some of the best years of my life, no matter our ending. It is not her fault – nor is it anyone's – that I can simply no longer stand to live in this same skin.
I do not want you to grieve for me, Rose. There has been so much grief and sadness in all our lives. My choosing to leave must not become a part of that. I would have done this years ago, decades even. I have felt ready for a long time now. There has been one thing tying me to this world and that, my lovely, is you.
Being your brother and confidante has been one of my highest honors and pleasures beyond the telling of it. Being there for you was never anything besides a privilege. As I write this to you, I can happily recall with great pride the first time I managed to make you smile after you left. The first time I made you laugh, which was something to recall – I smile even now. The first time we danced at that award ceremony. You are my family, Rosalie Hale. My twin. I could never leave you until you were ready for me to go. Deep down, I know you've been ready for some time now. So have I.
In closing...'
The knock on the door made me jump and almost drop the pages altogether. I fumbled to keep hold of them, having seen one final chunk of writing with his name at the bottom. There was another page underneath that one, but I would have to read it later.
"Hold on," I said, wiping my face again. I moved to the mirror to make sure I wiped everything away.
Once settled, I opened the door already knowing it was her, but still shocked to see Nessie's face. It had been so very long. Her lovely face so similar to his in many ways.
Her name caught in my throat. The last time I'd seen her face, it had been beyond distraught. I had been the source of her pain, revealing things about her beloved and sending a wrecking ball of destruction through the family. She wasn't smiling, but then she wasn't overtly furious either. I could only wait for her to speak first.
Eventually she sighed, "I had a whole speech." Looking down, she shook her head. "Now that you're here...it seems pointless."
The need to reach out to touch her face and stroke her hair was so ingrained that I had to restrain my wandering fingers. The part of me that selfishly loved her almost as a daughter had not died out over the years. She had trusted me; come to me for advice countless times. I had betrayed that trust along with many other things.
"Say whatever you need to," I encouraged softly.
She frowned. "It's not like that." Again, I waited patiently for her to find her own words. "You just left. You went without saying anything, without cleaning up any of the mess or trying to explain anything. You were there my whole life and then...you just weren't anymore."
I could only give her the truth knowing it lacked the strength of conviction from long ago. "It was the best thing I could do. I'm so sorry, darling, for the pain I inflicted upon you. I know how useless that sounds, but I really am."
"Rose, it's been way too long for an apology to do what it should." Didn't I know the truth of that statement.
I simply nodded, looking down. "I know."
"I just don't understand why you left," she said after a minute. "No-one even told me you'd left until days after everything happened."
I had no answers for her, only my sincerest apologies – for what they were worth. "I'm sorry for that, too, but surely you can see why I left? It was the right thing to do; it was all I could do to give your Mom and Dad a chance. To give everyone a chance to recover from what I did."
She kept my gaze before levelly replied, "What you both did."
"Yes," I conceded, inclining my head. "But it was my responsibility to leave...not your Dad's."
It was difficult to hear his name, let alone say it, and so I avoided it altogether.
"Where did you go?"
"Everywhere," I said, determined to remain as vague as possible, but not wanting to be rude. "Europe lately."
Her face softened. "I'm sorry about Jasper. I know you two were close."
"Me too."
"He sent us something, did you know?"
That was news to me, or maybe it was in the final part of the letter I had yet to read. "He did?"
"Alice has it. She'll probably give it to you later. I read it, actually. It was quite...incredible."
"A book?" I queried, wondering if it was one of his poetry books.
She gave me a tiny, cryptic smile. "You'll see."
Her small smile had emboldened me. I reached out and touched her arm, only for a moment. This had been the Nessie I missed so very much. The one I loved with all my cold, dead heart.
With everything bubbling inside me I had to tell her, "I missed you every minute of every day that passed. All of you, even your husband."
Thankfully she didn't flinch away from my touch or my outburst as she could have. Instead she answered, "Despite what you might think, we missed you too. Reading what Jasper wrote...well, it changed things and how we see them. Made certain things easier to understand."
A cold thread of panic encircled my heart. I couldn't help it. Jasper had once written a very long, in depth account of what had happened between Edward and myself, but had ultimately declined to publish it. He'd only told me of its existence some years ago. Surely that wasn't what Nessie was referring to?
She sensed my apprehension but misread it. "I know you must be terrified, but this gathering is for Jasper. No one is going to cause a scene here; no one. You have as much right to be here as anyone. So don't feel you have to hide away in the bathroom."
Oh my little Nessie. She had sure grown up so well. Matured in ways I couldn't have conceived at her age.
I nodded again, forcing a smile. As she turned to leave, I called out to her. "Ness!"
"Hmm?" She faced me once more.
This was the most long overdue apology I had to make. "I'm sorry for what I said, to Jacob. About you. That was so beyond uncalled for and I have no excuses. Only my deepest regret."
She studied me with a level, oh so familiar gaze. "I already knew about that, I'd known for a while. Jake didn't know I knew. My mom had told me accidentally some years previous." I could only nod in surprise. I had no idea she knew. "Jake had hurt you, Aunt Rose, and you wanted to hurt him in return. I know it wasn't really about me." I wanted to agree but didn't know if all she said about my motives was true. I wanted to believe whole-heartedly they were.
"You were always the one who I could trust not to treat me like a child. That meant a lot to me." I knew that to be the truth. "Even now, they baby me a little. They think there's so much I can't handle. But do you want to know the absolute truth?" I was a little apprehensive, but could only nod. I wanted no more lies or misunderstandings between us.
She put her hand to my cheek and allowed me to see the image she spoke of. Her next words were so unnecessary because I had already seen it through her gift. "I had always known about you and my Dad, on some level."
If not resting against the tub, surely I would have fallen over. As it was, my mouth fell open, stunned by her calm, quiet revelation. I had no words.
"In some recess of my mind, there was a memory of something that until it was revealed, I could never have recognised or processed it. For all I know, it could have been a dream. Perhaps a vestigial vampire aspect to do with memory, I guess. But I know it was my first memory, the first thing I remember seeing on this planet. It was you and my Dad, kissing. So don't apologise to me for anything but leaving without saying goodbye. I already knew the worst of your sins, on some level at least."
I could see so clearly in my mind's eye the memory she gave to me. It was one of the happiest moments of my life; seeing all my effort come to fruition, the self-inflicted damage of my campaign to keep that baby alive...all made worth it. His baby, his little miracle. The three of us huddled closely together, almost like a real family.
I withdrew from her touch, and consequently the imagery. "Saying goodbye would have made it impossible to leave."
"Then maybe you shouldn't have left."
"But my leaving has allowed for one good thing at least," I tried to point out. "Your Mom and Dad."
She frowned a little before taking a breath to say something. However before she had the chance, someone was coming our way. I sensed with relief that it was Carlisle. I definitely didn't want the details of their reunion and heartfelt love. Dealing with Jasper's decisions and the family's reemergence into my life was plenty.
"Nessie," he said, calm and soothing as always. "Could you go and help Alice with the music selections?"
"Of course. See you later, Rosie," she replied, giving me a smile that obviously required effort, but seemed genuine too. It felt like another impenetrable wall had partially fallen; and for that I couldn't suppress the small blossom of hope that flowered in my chest at that tentative kindness. I loved her so very much, and would do anything to have her think better of me. Renesme had been the first truly good thing my existence had helped to produce, in an albeit limited capacity.
Carlisle watched her go out of sight then turned to me. I was still in the doorway of the bathroom; it was starting to feel like my little sanctuary.
"Hiding away?" he asked, smiling.
He radiated tranquility; but it was the kind of tranquility that was not comprised of a lacking emotion. His emotions gave him the strength to be tranquil: to endure and persevere through trying times. It was infectious and calming to those around him. Almost as powerful as Jasper in many ways.
Though it was barely touching me then, I couldn't help but be reminded of what it was like to be around Carlisle when upset, and I found I had missed it terribly.
God, I had missed him. I had missed the certainty of being loved, conveyed with little more than an expression across his beautifully calm features. Everything about him made me feel better, safer. He was one of the few people with whom I had made any kind of peace before leaving. It had been so long since I'd felt cared for. Since I had felt someone could take the lead for a little while. So very long since that kind of tranquility had reached even the edges of my fraught, fractious soul. Not since Jasper had taken care of me so long ago.
Suddenly, I felt unstoppably compelled to tell him everything. Carlisle was still my father, even if he didn't see it as such, and I needed to lean on him, to unburden my soul just a little.
"Carlisle," I began, voice a little unsteady. "Jasper sent me a letter."
He didn't look remotely surprised. "Of course he did." And of course Carlisle would have already figured that out.
"It was his...last goodbye, I guess."
He reached out, taking my hand in his and gently holding it. "It must have been difficult to read."
I nodded in agreement. "I'm not sure...do you think I should let everyone else read it?"
"Does it specify that you do so?"
"No, nor does it preclude me from doing so. Still, I'm uncertain. I haven't even finished reading it yet."
I looked down, once more sensing the potential to be overwhelmed. Carlisle put his other hand to my face, gently stroking my cheek. The place he had once healed with his venom while I had sought comfort from him by way of memories. My Father, my saviour...always. Time could change a lot, but I doubt it could ever touch Carlisle's love for me, or mine for him.
"You did the right thing, coming back."
"Did I?" I questioned. "I don't think so. When I read the letter, all I could think to do was come here. I'd booked the flights before I even read the second paragraph. Now that I'm here, I remember why I left. Why I swore to stay away."
He seemed to consider his words. "You are part of this family, Rosalie. No matter the past, no matter the time or distance. You will always be my daughter. Your return was inevitable; the only question was when and why?"
"I shouldn't be here, though. I'm upsetting people, just by being here. It was selfish to come back, regardless of the cause."
"Jasper would have wanted you here," he reasoned. "You know that much to be true, at least."
I wanted to argue, point out that – with the notable exception of Jasper's passing – everyone had been getting along fine without me. But this was rooted in selfishness and my inability to forget that ring on Edward's finger, how close Bella had been standing to him. That easy familiarity and the part of me that had thought maybe (selfishly), somehow it wouldn't be there anymore between them.
How selfish to be thinking such of things when my brother's passing was what had brought me back in the first place. But I longed for France, then. My Chateau, my friends, even Roman. The life I had fought to create in the absence of the old one. That old life had gone on without me, despite the loving reassurances of parents. My return, inevitable as Carlisle thought it, made that painfully clear. And it was only a tiny blip on their radar. Because when all was said and done, I would be leaving once more.
But that was not what anyone, Carlisle least of all, wanted to hear. I managed a smile for him; tried to free my face of the sentiment lurking beneath it.
"Yes," I agreed. "He would."
"Will you come speak with us?" he prompted after a moment of silence.
I managed a shaky laugh. "With who?"
"Myself and Esme. You don't have to speak to anyone else if you don't want to. But Esme and I would love to know what you've been doing, how you've been living."
As much as I wanted to refuse, I couldn't do that. I owed them that much at least. And Carlisle's hopeful face was my eventual downfall. It was tough to refuse him anything.
"Very well," I agreed with a soft smile. Happily, Carlisle led me from the bathroom by my hand. "But it might be a little dull."
He chuckled, as I expected him to. "I highly doubt that anything you have undertaken or experienced could be anywhere near the definition of dull."
July, 2081
France, Montbéliard
"So, this is home?" Jasper asked, looking around at my living room for the first time since I'd moved here. Usually we met somewhere else, far away and neutral. This time, however, when he had contacted me, he'd asked to come to my place in France.
"For the next few years. But I do like it here. I'd love to stay longer, but you know how it is."
"It must be difficult," he commented, moving over to my sofa and sitting down.
"Not really, we're used to moving around, aren't we? You move around all the time."
He shrugged gracefully. "I grow tired of it, though. Don't you?"
"Of course, but it's what we do. How we live."
He said nothing, falling into silent thoughtfulness. I frowned, wondering what he was thinking about. When he still said nothing after a full minute, I decided to change the subject, "How's Peter?"
"He's good," he replied, slowly coming back to reality. "I'll soon be staying with him for a while in Australia. Planting some shallow roots."
"Wow, Australia? Nice."
"All thanks to your genius friend," he said, looking at me once more. "It's amazing being able to go places without worrying about the sun so much. How is Roman?"
"He's great. The lab he's got set up is doing well and he's inventing a lot of new things. The other day he came up with the idea for some kind of hunger suppressant. It might mean not craving blood so much. Imagine how much the Volturi would love that."
He smirked. "No wonder they let you have your human friends. Do you visit him often?"
"Roman? Every few months," I answered. Jasper and Roman had only met twice. "Why?"
He shrugged and smiled placidly. "I just wondered if you ever thought about becoming involved with anyone, again?"
"You think Roman and I are involved?" I asked, surprised. It was such an odd thing for him to ask; he'd never mentioned anything like this to me before.
He shook his head. "I know you're not; you would have told me and I'd be able to feel it. I was just curious if you felt anything for him other than friendship."
"I love Roman, but it's platonic. It's all I can expect to have now. You know that."
"That's a waste, Rose." He sighed somewhat theatrically. "Even humans manage to move on during their short little lives."
What I really wanted to say was, "Well, I'm not human and my life isn't short, is it?" but I held my tongue in check. I knew he wasn't saying it to irritate me, it was born of concern.
"I have no desire to move on, nor to pursue romance of any kind." It sounded cold and hollow, even to my own ears, but I had my priorities. "Besides, I've had quite enough romance for a few lifetimes, anyway," I added, trying to lighten the mood.
"I'm just saying...I'd like to see you happy."
"I am. I am happy. I love what I do, I've got great friends. I have more now than I ever thought possible," I reassured Jasper, recalling how true that was.
He held my gaze unblinkingly. "You're really happy?"
"As much as I can be," I told him honestly. "Are you?"
He didn't seem to know how to answer. "I'm happy right now." I was happy,mainly because he was with me.
"And what of you and romance?" I inquired, before I realised what I was really asking. "Oh, I'm sorry...I didn't mean to ask anything about...y'know."
It was an unspoken rule between us; I never asked about anything to do with home and he never told me. Again, we had our priorities and knew what we could withstand.
He waved away my concerns. "It's fine. I haven't had much romance in the last few decades."
"Then you're hardly in a position to be setting me up with Roman, are you?" I joked. "It's been hard enough getting on my feet and living this life without adding more drama to it."
"Well, you can't use that an excuse forever," he said quietly, but with an undercurrent of intensity. "And forever is a very long time."
I hesitated for a moment. "Jasper, are you all right?"
"Of course," he said, standing up from the sofa and walking to the window. "I just worry about you."
I went over to him, putting my hands on his tense shoulders. "I'm fine, Jasper. I know I was a wreck before, but I'm doing well now. You shouldn't worry about me."
"You're my sister; I always worry about you."
"Well then, I'll start worrying about you too. Nonstop. Prepare to be bombarded with calls day and night."
"I look forward to it."
I nudged him playfully in the back, earning a laugh from him in return. "You'd better. I'm going to be pestering you until the day you die."
He sighed. "Oh to die. To die would be an awfully big adventure."
"God, morbid much! Come on, we should hunt before daybreak. You especially, Mr. Macabre!"
"Whatever you say, Mom. Whatever you say."
Time held no sway over us, the way it did over humans. Perhaps it was one of the hardest aspects of our immortality to reconcile. To never sleep, to never bid farewell to one day and awake to greet another. To live in one endless stretch of consciousness without dreams or rest – it took a toll, to say the least. I knew Jasper had struggled with it all his existence, never truly accepting the loss of sleep. A lack of sleep in humans eventually made them insane, and I couldn't help to wonder if there was some similar correlation in Vampires, too.
Still, occasionally, there were upsides: like having a party (of sorts) and never having to wind it down because it was 1:17am on a Monday morning. It was the scene I was a part of in the Cullen residence. They played the music loud, had lit candles and lanterns all over the yard.
The gathering of twenty-one vampires was all splintered off into smaller groups, speaking of Jasper and various related subjects. It was a celebration indeed. Everyone recalled the brightest and best moments of having known Jasper. Each conversation was available to my advanced hearing, bringing a soft joy to my heavy heart for the moment it took before I remembered that he was dead and gone. That these memories were all I had left of him now and that there would never be any new memories. There was laughter and happiness in the air, enough to counteract some of the sadness the others felt at least.
For my part, I stayed on the absolute fringe as much as possible. Carlisle and Esme hadn't really left my side yet, speaking to me for most of the night thus far. Alice flitted back and forth between everyone, but each time she came to me her hand would briefly catch mine and squeeze a little. Each of those times lifted my spirits back to somewhat bearable levels. I couldn't help but wonder if she had somehow acquired Jasper's insight into my emotions, which was really a silly thought to begin with.
Eventually, Carlisle and Esme had to go and speak with others. I tried to make it easy for them, indicating falsely that I was going to go speak with other people myself. I moved away, watching them go to the main group: a group I had once belonged to. Alice, Emmett, Edward and Bella. Nessie and Jacob were speaking to some others I didn't recognise. I had tried not to look at anyone too much.
I moved away from the crowds and into the deeper shadows. A small, unlit corner became my haven for a few brief minutes. I knew I had been drawn there for another reason, though.
I imagined that's where Jasper would be: standing alone and uncomfortable in that shadowy corner of his funeral, watching with mild annoyance. He would have felt overwhelmed by the sheer amount of emotion, thus needing to seek retreat. I would have followed him there, eager to join him in his withdrawal from polite society. We were two peas in a pod and now I was the only one left.
The shadows emulated his presence and I felt, for the first time, as though I wasn't truly alone in this place. I even felt a bittersweet smile pulling at the corners of my mouth.
We would have stood together in silence, but he knowing my emotions and I his. He would have rolled his eyes subtly and it would've made me smile just a fraction. That was our way. Alone, but alone together. Jasper was the kind of person you could actually be alone with. He asked nothing of you, save that you shared in the solitude.
I felt him then almost as strongly as if he had actually been there all along, as if this was some elaborate hoax. Only it wasn't; he was really gone and I knew it.
Yet he was with me in words, alive in the still unread pages within my reach. So there in the shadows, I took out his letter from my purse, letting my eyes find the place I had left off, one paragraph from the bottom. I sought him in those words.
'In closing, I will not linger upon subjects that are likely to upset either of us. Suffice to say, it has been a great honour to know you, Rosalie Hale...in the many stages of your existence. You have changed so much, grown with the times. Perhaps that was my failing – I could not. The others have grown too. You might not think it and we don't discuss them, but they have. I will say nothing specific as per our agreement, but I would ask that you consider finding this out for yourself. You have bore your self-imposed exile with grace yet it cannot last forever. I would never recommend this if I did not believe you to be ready. And you are ready, my dearest.
You have become a whole person, capable of much more than that broken girl you were so many years ago. Embrace the changes I could not. Embrace immortal life for what it is and be grateful that enough time can pass for some vampires to change for the better. Were you a human, you would die before you could ever see the fruits of your labours born of the exile. You would have died twice over, having never seen even a chance of the reconciliation you are now capable of. It is our one true difference. I have no use for time and its allowances, but you do. You stand to benefit the most from the abundance of time, because it gives you the chances you require to make amends. Time stands still for you, most of all, Rosalie. It stands still that you might finally get it right. I know you will.
I know what my death will prompt. I am glad for it, regretting only that I cannot be there to see you reunited with the family once more. Perhaps in some ways this parting is my final gift to you, allowing you to return when you would not otherwise. You know me too well to confuse this with the reason for my choice, don't you? I would never leave you were you not ready and I would certainly not leave you for any reason other than my own desire to do so. We must part ways now, seek out different adventures.
You are and always will be my sister, my best friend and a part of me. Although I know that you and Edward share the same soul in two bodies, I felt that you and I were connected by something special. Something between us, binding us together throughout our many years and experiences. You were always a part of my soul.
I will take you with me wherever I go; and always know that I go with you too.
Always, Jasper.'
I was crying, unable to stop staring at his name, the last word on the page. The loss of him had still not properly sunk in, but I felt the beginnings of it. The massive, gaping hole where there had once been my brother...was empty. I dared not examine it too much, lest I break down. It wouldn't have taken much. It had been building for a day now and would require so little to overwhelm me completely.
There was one last page, but I didn't want to look at it just then. I needed to keep myself together. Jasper would have sighed and pulled me into a hug, gently chastising me for my silliness and waterworks. Just the thought of it gave me enough strength to calm myself down a little; to put the barest hint of a wobbly smile on my lips.
"Rosalie?"
I gasped sharply, the totally unexpected voice caught me off guard. I hadn't even sensed his approach, lost in my emotions as I had been. How much more would this night throw at me?
"Emmett," I managed, though my throat was constricted. "One moment." I wiped the tears away best I could, smudging my makeup a little yet not really caring.
He waited until I stepped out from the comforting shadows. I felt the familiar stab of terror, helplessly recalling the last time I'd seen him.
Looking concerned, he said, "Uh, your mascara is a bit...messy."
I laughed shakily. "I know, give me a second." I fumbled for a mirror in my bag and used it to correct the mess I'd made of my face. When I looked decent once more, I gave him my full attention. "Sorry."
"It's fine. I didn't think you wore makeup."
"I pass as an adult now, mostly. The makeup helps."
"Yeah, Carlisle was telling us you have your own company and everything. That's great!"
He seemed pleasant, congenial even. I couldn't help but feel I was missing something.
"Uh...Thanks." I was unsure of what to say after that.
"It's really sad about Jasper," he said softly. "I didn't mean to intrude, I just wanted to talk to you and this is the first time I've seen you alone since you got here."
"Yes, I've been trying to stay out of people's way mostly," I said, finding it difficult to meet his friendly, calm gaze. So unlike the last time I'd seen it.
"You don't have to. Jasper was your family as much as anyone's. We all hoped you'd come."
I found that most difficult to believe. "Really?"
"Really! Some more than others, of course, but still...it's good that you're here."
When silence filled the next few seconds, I took a chance to say what was bursting out of my heart.
"Emmett, I'm very sorry."
His smile faltered somewhat. "I know you are. I couldn't accept it for a long time – that you were actually sorry at all. But I do know now that you are sorry. It doesn't make it OK, but it's something." He didn't have to say that; I knew nothing and no amount of apologies would ever make my past actions OK. But the need to atone for them would never really leave me, thus causing me to strive to be more than the person who had hurt them all so badly.
While listening to Emmett, I noticed an unfamiliar girl standing with Nessie and Jake who kept looking nervously over at us. Emmett especially. I couldn't help but feel a small flutter of hope.
"Is she with you?" I dared to ask, subtly indicating the beautiful girl with waist length red hair.
Without turning around, Emmett smiled. "Yeah. Her name's Jemima. We've been together seven years this December."
I wanted to gush out my congratulations, but I knew how unbecoming it would be. It wasn't my place, so I tried to contain myself. "That's wonderful," I said evenly, yet still wanting him to know something of my joy for him, if in a contained and appropriate way.
"We live together in Jackson Bay, actually."
Jemima was looking right at me. Nervous, concerned and a little curious. I managed a friendly smile hopefully without appearing psychotic. I was all over the place and the last thing I wanted was to do something that could be interpreted as intimidating or inappropriate. When she returned it, albeit with some hesitation, I was relieved.
"She seems lovely," I told Emmett with confidence.
"She is," he replied. "It's very different and new. I didn't think I'd ever...but I did."
"I'm glad."
"Don't stay here in the shadows all night. Come and talk to us."
Us – as in everyone who I'd hurt and left behind. Oh, that was a lovely prospect.
"I will," I said, trying to sound calmer than I felt. "I just need to go freshen up." I indicated to my tear-tracked face.
"OK," he said. "You'd better not run off. Esme's probably put a tracking device on you somewhere."
"I won't run off." Although the prospect was immensely appealing. "I'll be back in a minute and then I'll come over."
He nodded before going back to his group. I didn't stay to watch. Instead, I fled inside the house seeking to escape in a way that made me feel childish. I knew I should be thankful that Emmett had even spoken to me, let alone civilly. And I was truly happy for him, but all I could feel was the impact from Jasper's last paragraph. It ran on repeat in my mind, stirring my emotions with it. The impact was caused not only by what he had said, but also my acknowledgment of his actual death. Jasper was not just far away or on the other side of the planet, he was gone. He was dead. He had left me behind.
I made it to the kitchen before my knees threatened to give out. Why, why, why had I come here? What an unthinking, irrational thing to do! Had I taken the time to read his whole letter maybe I wouldn't have rushed into something so incredibly stupid.
I should never have come.
I wanted to grieve, wanted to be alone and away from the entirety of this other massive situation. How had this come to be? I was on the verge of falling to the floor in the Cullen's kitchen, mourning the loss of my brother? The world had turned sharply, giving me no warning. It never seemed to, not for the big moments.
Jasper. Jasper. Jasper. Jasper! I wanted my brother; I wanted his smirks and wit; I wanted his quiet comfort and easy knowing of darker thoughts that confused others. I wanted him to stand beside me and use his powers to calm me, just a little. He had only ever used his powers to try and make life better for those around him. He took away the bad parts and gave out only good, as much as he could.
I would never see him again.
That last thought finally caused me to fall. I grabbed for the counter but missed completely. Vaguely, I hoped everyone was too busy with their determined cheer and loud music to hear me. I hit the floor awkwardly, falling so that I landed half on my side. Jasper would have picked me up, telling me to get a grip, but in a kind manner. He would have made it into a joke, somehow. Or if it was really something serious, he would have sat beside me, waiting patiently until I was ready to speak.
I allowed myself a generous few more seconds on the pristine tiled floor before I took a deep breath and forced myself up again. I gripped the counter top hard enough that the marble gave a groan before it splintered. Jesus, I had to calm down. I couldn't lose it here, not in their home. That was all anyone needed.
After a few seconds spent checking no one had heard the commotion and come running to investigate, I attempted to compose myself once more. I decided it was best to look at the last page there and then, no more putting anything off. I had a vague suspicion what it contained, anyway.
It turned out I was right. The Last Will and Testament of Jasper Whitlock Hale.
I scanned the page and saw that he had left me everything, with the instruction to continue Whitlen Havens with the majority of it. He had also instructed that I supervise the dispersal of his personal possessions to those in the family who wanted them. My return to the Cullens was heavily implied. One note instructed me to ensure that anything written by him not yet published, was to remain as such. The note contained a small addendum, a personal message to me.
'I have sent the family a story I wrote a while ago, but never published. I have done this because the story contained within its pages is too incredible to remain unknown and unseen to those we love most. It will help them to understand, Rosalie.'
The abject fear from earlier returned full force once more. He couldn't have been referring to that story he'd chronicled over the years he'd known Edward and me. From what he'd told me a while ago, it was more or less about myself and Edward. Truly he couldn't mean that, right? I began to suspect that he was in fact referring to precisely that. Renesme had alluded earlier to it, " Reading what Jasper wrote...it changed things."
"Rose?" Alice's voice came calling. "Ah, there you are! I wanted to ask, did you...are you OK?"
I couldn't help but wonder if there was any peace to be found in this house. I had been staring at the addendum, probably looking an absolute wreck. I glanced up, managing a nod, but my throat was tight and unyielding.
"Alice," I eventually said, clearing my throat and few times. "Uh, did Jasper send you something?" The need to know what Jasper wrote of was burning inside me.
She looked at the paper in my hand and then back to me. "Yes, why?"
I decided to come clean. "Jasper sent me a letter," I told her very quietly. I held it out that she might read it.
"I thought he might," she replied kindly. "There was no note of any kind in what he sent us. We all thought if he was going to tell anyone, it would be you."
"You're not angry?"
"Do I wish he'd sent me a letter of my own? No, not in the slightest. Jasper knows me well enough that I can't stand things like that. A letter from him would break me apart. I begrudge you nothing, having that letter in your hand."
I was helpless to ask, "What did he send you?"
Her hesitation was clear. "Rosalie, I don't want you to get upset."
Oh my God. He had sent it. I gasped, unable to even begin to think of what was in that story, as opposed to what was not. Jasper had been so involved, had seen and known so much. "Who read it?"
She sighed. "Everyone."
I very carefully folded up the letter and placed it back inside my purse, ignoring the violent tremors running through my hands. Everyone. Everyone had read it.
Oh, how I wanted to run back home. Run away, run far and lock myself away back in France where no one even knew any of the things Jasper had written of; a place where no one knew the name Edward; a place where I was a good person, not the outcast pariah who had to be treated decently at this time because her brother was dead.
But that was so incredibly selfish. I was not the only person who had lost Jasper. Not the only one left behind in the wake of a beloved family member. Running away would hurt Esme and Carlisle and maybe even Alice. The others would probably be relieved, though.
I would stay until it was over, until people began to disperse. Then I would leave and live with the fresh reminder of why I'd stayed away for so long. I owed everyone a goodbye this time.
"I see. Uh, what was it you wanted to ask me?"
She came a little closer. "I'm sorry you're not happy that we read it," she said, ignoring my question. "I wouldn't be in your situation either. I think it was Jasper's way of meddling beyond the grave. It was pretty incredible, actually."
"He was a great writer," I agreed.
"He was, but I meant the story too. I think everyone understands better now. At least, everyone understands. You could never have explained it, but this helped us to see what had been happening all those years."
"Alice, please," I begged softly. "Stop."
"I'm sorry. Did you ever read it?"
"No, I didn't even know it existed until some years ago."
"Well, you should read it at some point. It's in the den, on the bookshelf above the fire place. If you want to take it, please do."
I nodded mechanically, mentally willing her to stop speaking of it. "Thanks."
"Did you maybe want to come and speak to everyone else? Emmett said you might." I detected a definite undercurrent to her question, but was in no state to comprehend it. The idea of chatting with everyone else made my knees threaten to give out again. Especially after finding out they'd read the story Jasper had sent. My identity from long ago and all the atrocities I had committed exposed...like scars being torn open into fresh wounds. I know Jasper had my best intentions at heart, but I couldn't see it that way, at least not yet.
"Yeah, I'll be out in a bit," I said, sounding almost normal, despite the encroaching insanity. "I uh need t-to go make a phone call first."
"Sure," she said sweetly, going back outside, presumably to give me some privacy.
Taking my cell out, I looked at it blankly for a moment. There was only a tiny amount of battery left, which wasn't surprising. I'd left France without so much as an overnight bag, let alone a charger. Still, there seemed enough to make the one phone call that I so desperately needed.
I dialed the number and hoped he wasn't too busy. It rang so many times that I was about to give up when he answered; my desperate hope had paid off.
"God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December!" came his somewhat breathless answer over the line.
Despite myself, I burst out laughing: slightly hysterical laughter right on the brink of turning into a sob.
"God only knows," I replied, through my laughter. I looked around, deciding to move out of the kitchen for this conversation. "Did you just look that up while I called?"
"I wasn't expecting you to call," he said sounding put out. "Had to use the Google."
I closed the door behind me, trying not to think too hard about the fact that I'd chosen the den. "Who was it?"
"James. M. Barry."
I tried not to let him hear how that knocked the wind out of me. "Well, isn't quoting Barry all the rage lately?"
"It's an inferior quote," Roman said glumly. "You called unexpectedly, I had no time to prepare. Why did you call?"
"I just wanted to speak to you." I tried not to sound as pathetic as I felt. "Is that OK?"
"Of course. I'm not busy right now. Well, not as busy as I usually am. Are you well? You sound strange."
I paused, caught between breaths. Admitting this truth out loud was enough to push me past my verging hysteria, but I had to get it out. "Jasper, my brother...he died." The truth threatened to cripple me, but I held it at bay.
There was a long moment of silence before he replied, unusually serious, "Shall I come to you?"
I shook my head, knowing he couldn't see it. "No, but thanks for the offer. I'm actually in New Zealand. With the other family, you know? The Cullens."
"Really? Oh wow, that's...is that good?"
Was it?...I guess the jury was still out on that one.
My eyes were drawn inevitably to the shelf above the fireplace. "Not really," I answered. "I came without thinking it through. They're being nice to me, though."
"Don't they all hate you?"
I laughed wearily, my eyes landing on the white, plainly bound manuscript on top of some books. "Maybe they're giving me a temporary reprieve."
"I'm very sorry," he said. "Your brother was a good man, or such was my impression the few times we met."
"He was," I said, somewhat distractedly. "Thank you. I'm sorry for calling; I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss home, and I feel like an intruder here."
"I should come and be there with you," he said, and I heard movement in the background.
"No, Roman." I tried sounding like I meant it. "I really appreciate it, and much as I'd love to have you here, I need to get through this on my own. It won't be for long, anyway." Everything else could wait. I was here for Jasper.
"Are you sure, because you don't sound sure. You could be befuddled by various stages of grief."
"I'm sure, but thank you so much. You're quite the gentleman when the occasion calls for it."
"Hardly. I was looking forward to trying out one of the anti-gravity prototypes."
Before really knowing what I was doing, my hand reached for the manuscript. It was heavy and thick. "I bet you were," I answered Roman, my mind elsewhere.
Time, Love and Obligation.
By Jasper Hale
My chest clenched painfully. Jesus Christ, the title alone was enough to make my vision sway.
"Rosalie?" Roman asked. I realised he'd been talking to me and I'd not heard it. "Are you sure I shouldn't come to you? I'm worried."
"Jasper wrote a kind of book about me," I said, still staring at the plain white cover and the four word title. The plain white cover looked too deceptively pristine to be a story about my past exploits. "About me...and him."
"I see." Even bound in ink and paper, I didn't think anyone who read it would ever really, truly see.
"He never published it, but he sent it the family. They've all read it."
"Oh...I'm sorry. That must feel, uh – invasive?" Quite the understatement.
"I'm holding it, right now."
"Are you going to read it?"
"Should I?"
"I think you want to, given that you're holding it. It might be good to see yourself through another's eyes."
"I just can't believe he would send this to them, Roman," I whispered, cradling the manuscript with one hand and keeping the phone pressed hard to my ear with the other. "Why would he do this to me?" I seemed to be falling apart quicker than I could put myself back together.
"Maybe he wanted them to see you as he did."
"But why? There's no point. They've moved on just fine without me. I can't fathom his motives."
"Maybe you aren't supposed to."
"I guess. It seems so unlike him, though. He was always very private and understanding of my need for privacy in turn."
Roman sighed gently. "But wasn't that the whole...thing? You were too private? You kept secrets? I don't pretend to know even half of your old life with these Cullens, but from what little you told me, secrets seemed to play a large part in the destruction and betrayal of trust. Maybe he was trying to banish the secrecy somewhat and make way for a new start."
That made sense, I supposed, but my mind was in no shape to accept it. "I have to go," I told Roman, letting my head drop into one hand. "But thank you so much for talking to me. I'll call again when I feel a little saner."
"Feel equally free to call while you're less sane. Let me know the moment I can do something to help."
"I will," I reassured him, realising I didn't want to let him go without saying something more. "Love you, Roman."
There was a beat of silence, presumably caused by surprise. When he replied, it sounded like he was smiling. "And you, Rose."
I disconnected the call and felt completely wrung out. What a funny expression. It always made me think of the time when Edward had flooded the bathroom and we'd dried it with white towels, wringing them hard and viciously over the bathtub. I felt just like that.
The manuscript was heavy and impossible to ignore. I knew I was going to read it; that had been inevitable since Alice had confirmed my suspicions.
The dread was slowly rising like water inside me. This was perhaps the best example of my tendency towards masochism. Why was I here in the first place, let alone on the verge of reading some kind of book about my relationship with Edward?
Edward.
As if by some comically divine intervention, the very second I thought his name I realised he was standing right behind me. Just standing there in the doorway of the den. There was no time to wonder what the hell was happening to my so-called vampire senses because he was less than three feet from me.
I utterly froze, caught in the terrible uncertainty of what to do next. Instantly, I knew I should have forced an unnatural – if very public – greeting with him earlier, when there was safety in numbers.
Yet even with his standing behind me, it seemed like he was having the same exact problem I was: trying to think of a word to start off with. All the words in the English language were suddenly not forthcoming and the ones that were, seemed weighed down with unintentional meaning. This was a problem we always had trouble with: the English language failing us completely.
"Hi," he eventually said, for obvious lack of a better option. His voice was like a rushing river to my ears, bringing emotions with enough power to render me useless against the flood.
I stood up and turned to face him, vibrating with the determination to remain calm and above all detached. "Hi," I returned, equally lame.
Almost desperately, his eyes latched onto mine. It felt like he had sought them out with fervency.
"You're..." he simply trailed off, still gazing at me with the intent to see more than I offered. I felt pressure around the walls of my mind, knowing he was trying very hard to read it. I held strong.
Inevitably, I looked to his hand and again saw the ring on his finger. It wasn't the ring he'd originally wore when married to Bella. I imagined they'd remarried and started fresh. That ring made me incredibly nervous. He was here with me, without anyone else present. It felt...indecent.
"Have you read it?" I blurted out, needing to detract from the increasingly awkward silence.
He blinked confused for a moment but then caught my meaning, his eyes sliding onto what I was holding. "No. I can't. I was going to try, but even the title kind of ripped my heart out." Just the sound of his voice, it did things to me that I wish I'd forgotten. I loved his voice so much, loved the shape of it; tone, texture, timbre, all of it. His ever so slight British accent inherited from Carlisle. I had missed it beyond my own comprehension. "But the others indicated that it's...interesting, to say the least."
"Do you know when it starts from?" I asked, carefully controlled.
He was still staring, unswerving in his determination to read something from me, if not my mind. "From when he met us in the fifties."
There was a lengthy pause after that, graceless and unfamiliar. For the first time ever, I had no idea what to say to him. In the end I went with the most logical thing I could think of. The whole reason I was there, in the first place.
"I can't believe he's really gone."
Edward's face crumpled just a little, for only a second but I saw it. He nodded. "Neither can I. I keep telling myself not to be so shocked, that he wasn't truly happy here. But I can't really process it yet."
I felt an overwhelming urge to show him Jasper's note but I refrained with effort. "I know, I can't properly reconcile it, though I know I should. Part of me thinks he's going to pop out from behind a curtain or something and announce it was a trick to get me to come back."
He smiled. I was helpless but to stare, painfully reminded of what it was like to be the cause of something so beautiful. "That would be very much like him. But Peter wouldn't lie about something like this."
"No, he wouldn't."
Then, in a very hesitant manner he asked me, "Why are you blocking me?"
With supreme effort, I sedately replied, "Why are you trying to read me in the first place?"
"I know I shouldn't," he answered, yet he didn't look like he believed that. I couldn't help but notice he had moved a little closer. Alarm bells went off like crazy, almost to the extent that they became white noise. "I just...my mind wants to reach out to yours; to touch yours. It's instinct."
Bad. Bad territory. Dangerous territory. Ring on his finger, wife and daughter in the house...déjà vu of the worst kind. Stop it now.
I shifted. "Uh, why don't we go outside? I was coming over to talk to you guys anyway. Y'know, eventually."
He looked a little hurt, but God damn it this was for the best. Why was he making this so difficult?
"I wanted to speak to you alone."
"It's a bad idea," I said bluntly, hating myself so much but nowhere near as much as I would if I let this continue. "You and me alone...it's a really bad idea."
I was shocked to realise he was standing practically in front of me. We were almost the same height, he was an inch taller. How had he moved to stand before me without me really noticing? It was worrying, how all my supposedly awesome vampire senses had abandoned me. Distantly, I knew I was probably in some kind of shock. It was difficult to focus on anything besides the beautiful creature in front of me. He had once been my beautiful creature and the thought was dizzying.
"Do you have any idea how much I've missed you?" His voice was hoarse and low, like he was afraid I'd bolt if he spooked me. "If missed is even the word. Seeing you now...it doesn't feel real."
I tried to move back, but there was a sofa behind me. Embarrassingly, I stumbled a little trying to stay upright. He caught my arm, unnecessarily holding me up, bringing him even closer. Too close. Too much.
"But you seem real," he went on breathlessly. "You smell real. You feel real."
"Edward, please."
"I'm not going to kiss you. I only want...it feels incredible being near you again."
"This isn't what I came here for," I said softly, aware that he was close enough to kiss if I moved just a fraction. "I'm here f-for Jasper."
And just the thought of him wrenched a sob from my chest. My eyes stung with unnatural tears; glittering, sweet venom. The grief I had been working so hard to hold at bay was starting to flood through me, sweeping away all my barriers and defenses. Before I knew it, Edward pulled me into his arms and held me very close. He said not a word but I felt his heartbreak and knew it mirrored my own. Despite myself, it felt undeniably amazing there in his embrace, like every moment I'd been away from it was a criminal waste. He held me tighter and I felt as though I would have fallen without him.
"Please don't cry," he whispered, but he sounded like he himself was crying. "I can't bear to see you cry."
I pulled back to tell him I was sorry, that it was a dangerous mistake we being so close. But I didn't get the chance, because he drew back at the exact same moment and thoughtlessly, helplessly I pressed my mouth to his. It felt like the most natural, inevitable thing to do. The pain didn't vanish, it heightened to the point where I couldn't breathe if my life depended on it. It was only a closed mouth press of lips, but it felt unlike anything I'd experienced before.
His hands hadn't moved from behind my back, but I felt him react nonetheless. A kind of shudder went through him and he moaned against my lips. It was enough to make me realise what the hell I was doing and wrench myself away.
"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, wobbly and unstable. He was still holding onto me, keeping me upright.
I shook my head. "It's not you. It was me; I don't know what's wrong with me."
Why did he looked so hurt? "Rose..."
"No! I won't involve other people, never again and there are other people involved, so it's best we're not alone together. Obviously."
He looked like I'd slapped him. "Other people?"
The ring glinted in the light, mocking me. "Yes," I ground out. "Other people."
"Oh, I uh...I see." He released me, turning away and closing his eyes. God, did I really have to remind him that Bella was the other person? "I'm sorry," he whispered, sounding so damned broken. "I didn't mean to put you in a position like that."
"It's fine," I lied, clutching the manuscript like it was a lifeline. What other position did he think he was putting me in? "I'm just trying to be a g-good person, you know? I've worked hard to at least avoid being a bad person and this...this isn't good." Christ, I sounded like a two year old, but it was hard to speak at all, let alone impressively when he was there. My lips tingled with the echo imprint of his.
My whole body was trembling with the effort of suppressing every natural instinct he resurrected from within me. The air felt thick and heavy all around, tension invading each particle, making it difficult to breathe. My head swam with the undiluted need to be connected in some way to him; to forge a connection of any kind, even if it was only to touch him. It was like resisting magnetism.
It wasn't desire or lust, I knew what it was. It was love; love ignited from a fire that had blazed and never dampened, despite what I'd done to extinguish it. The words time, love and obligation were burned into me, branded into my very soul. They were on the front cover of a book my brother had felt compelled to write about us. They were the reason it didn't matter how long I'd been away or how far. They were the reason that a closed mouth touch of our skin felt like I was falling out of my body and into him. It took so little to feed the flames of that love, to rekindle the heat and passion between us born of those words. Our catechism, our mantra...our prayer.
I loved him still. I could never not love him, no matter where I went or how long I stayed away. He was love, personified. He was my definition of the word. I'd learned to just about live without it. Yet being in his presence made it impossible to remember how.
I was certain that he felt the same, because he backed up a few steps, his body tightly controlled and eyes closed. "I'll um...be outside then."
Only when he left and was a decent distance away did I let my guard drop just a fraction. Jesus, I had to leave. Just being alone in a room with him had caused me to almost shake apart with need. And I'd kissed him...what was wrong with me?
My sanity was hanging by a thread. Being near Edward again would have been monstrously difficult without coping with the sudden, unexpected loss of Jasper. What had I done? I'd sworn never to do anything like that again!
I swore loudly and creatively, slamming Jasper's manuscript down on a nearby coffee table. "Just pull it together," I told myself, purposefully out loud so that it might sink in better. "You have to get through this and then...then you can go home."
It hurt that the Cullen's home was no longer my home, nor did I think of it as such. Perhaps it was a mark of the time that had passed, but home meant Europe; my friends and employees, my little chateau, even Roman. In other circumstances, acknowledging something like this might have indicated personal growth but it just served to drive the knife in deeper.
They were waiting for me outside and there was absolutely no escaping it.
"So..."
"...so."
"Well, this is about as awkward as expected."
I was standing outside with everyone minus Carlisle and Esme; Alice, Emmett, Jemima, Edward, Bella, Nessie and Jacob. They all laughed and I managed something that sounded like a laugh, but certainly didn't feel like it.
"Rose," Alice said coming to my rescue. "Tell us about your foundation."
"It's called Whitlen Havens. It's an organization working towards providing care and housing for homeless children and teens. Giving them opportunities they might not find elsewhere."
"Hey, that's the charity Jasper was talking about last time," Emmett pointed out. "The one he attended the ceremony for."
My heart caught in my throat. "What?"
Jemima, who stood beside Emmett, said, "He was telling us about the last time he danced."
"Oh," I said fighting to keep my face neutral. "That was...I was there with him. Did he say that?"
Nessie smiled and shook her head. "No, but now that I think about it, he was hinting."
"He talked a lot about things he did with other people, but never told us who. In retrospect, that was probably you he was talking about," Emmett said.
"Why did you call it Whitlen Havens?" Jacob asked with something akin to forced friendliness. When Nessie smiled appreciatively, I knew who was behind it.
"Whitlock-Cullen," I explained, now feeling that it was a fairly puerile choice, having explained it aloud.
"That's nice," Bella said in a very similar tone to Jacob's, except Edward did not smile appreciatively in response to her effort. Hearing her talk made me uncomfortable, and I was amazed she could even address me so civilly. Being secure in Edward's affection must have been the cause of it. "What do the Volturi think of that, though? You running a company involving humans?"
My chest constricted just being spoken to at all by Bella. "Actually, they know about the company...and about the few humans who know what I am."
"Wow," Alice said, sounding impressed. "How did you pull that off?"
Edward caught my eye and looked like something had just clicked into place. "The sun block makeup," he said. "That was you."
Everyone made a clearly conscious effort not to look at him, but I was helpless to do so. "How did you know?"
"Oh," he said, looking shifty. "I heard a rumor from a friend who works for the Volturi. Said you go there a couple of times a year. Said he heard the makeup mentioned a lot, too."
"You invented the sun block thing?" Emmett asked. "Wow!"
"No, no it wasn't me," I said in a tumble of words, refusing to wrap my head around the fact that Edward had potentially been trying to find out about me. "It was my friend." I felt unwilling to expand more on such personal subjects. I still wanted to keep my life as separate as possible, making the inevitable return home as uncomplicated as possible.
Jacob asked, "He came up with the idea?"
"He's a kind of a genius." I couldn't fight the proud smile. "And he's got a lot of other ideas to keep them happy too."
"So where do you live?" Alice inquired.
Ah. The very question I definitely didn't want to answer. "Europe." I remained emphatically vague. You're leaving soon, don't get too involved.
There was a definite undercurrent of meaning when Edward asked, "Whereabouts?"
I didn't know what to say; I certainly wasn't expecting such a direct question from him of all people. Bella, who was still standing next to him, didn't seem to be reacting like I'd expected, but that didn't mean it wasn't a tremendously inappropriate question for him to ask.
"France," I answered grudgingly, because how could I not answer a question like that without revealing my deep reluctance. "But I move around all the time."
Then, eyes firmly downcast, he said, "Maybe we could visit you?"
I was lost for words. What was he doing? I stared at him, wanting to lower my mental shields for the first time since arriving, if only to tell him to back off. I wasn't quite that stupid, thankfully, and therefore I didn't, but the desire remained strong. It would have been easy, he hadn't stopped trying since I'd arrived.
I realised we hadn't said anything for a good five seconds and if it hadn't been before, it was officially awkward now. Nessie attempted to break the silence.
"Well, maybe we could just plan a visit to a neutral location. At some point."
"France is lovely," Jemima put in cheerfully. "I had family there in the twenties."
It was strange getting used to someone saying the twenties or thirties and potentially referring to a different century. Yet another aspect of our existence that Jasper had always disliked. For my part, I was still staring almost open mouthed at Edward's brazen questions. With effort, I schooled my face into neutrality and forced a relaxed smile.
"Where are you from originally, Jemima?"
"Ontario," she answered; I had guessed as much from her accent. "Though I haven't been back there since I was turned." I didn't push for her story; it was hers to give freely. If possible, I wanted to avoid crossing that invisible line between politely curious and purposefully nosy. Out of my peripheral vision, I could see she and Emmett were holding hands. The lack of anything resembling jealousy was surprising, but a testament to the change in my feelings for Emmett before I had left. I had begun to consider him a brother more than anything else. It was one less complication to battle with, for which I was grateful.
"We spent some time in Ontario," I told her. "White River. Emmett has an interesting story about a bear and a stream."
"Hey! No I don't!" he yelped indignantly, although I could tell he wasn't seriously offended.
"Didn't you almost get drowned by a bear?" Alice piped up.
"Another bear? I thought you were already killed by a bear?" Jemima asked sweetly. "Do you attract angry bears?"
"I do not!"
"I think it's because you yourself have a very bear-like energy," Jacob said. "They're drawn to you."
"Yeah well, at least I don't get dogs following me around wherever I go!"
"At least I didn't almost get drowned by one!"
"Boys," Nessie said, amused. "Hardly the time or the place."
It felt almost like old times; there we all were, standing around because we never needed to sit and chatting away. Laughing, joking and teasing like we were all a real family. It felt so real, aside from the gnawing feeling of heartache reminding me that Jasper wasn't just not here, he was dead.
And in that moment of weakness, born of undiluted grief, I felt Edward's never ending attempts to break my mental defenses finally succeed for the briefest of moments.
I felt him inside my mind, just a split second of his presence there inside a place it had not been for years. The sensation was so unexpected...so staggering that it wrenched a reaction from me before I could stop it.
"Ohh!" I gasped, my hand flying to my heart as though to stop it breaking out of my chest.
I violently slammed down with all the mental fortitude I had ever possessed, in the hope of shutting him out as quickly as possible.
"Are you all right?" Alice asked, her hand on my shoulder helped to steady me. "What's wrong?"
Thankfully he was gone, yet my mind felt freshly torn in half. I wanted to rage at him for doing that to me, but everyone was staring. I knew I couldn't. Though my fingers trembled and everything ached, I kept it together – barely.
"I'm just not feeling great," I explained, trying to pass it off with an embarrassed half-smile. "Haven't hunted in weeks."
"You should hunt with us," Alice offered. "Before you leave."
"You're leaving?" Edward sounded wrecked, but I didn't dare look at his expression. "When?"
This was insanity. Why was he doing this? It made no sense. I knew he was with Bella, she stood by his side, and he wore a ring that bound him to her. Why, why was he doing this to me? Was it a test? Was it to seek out my treachery and further expose it?
"Soon," I said, voice shaking. "At first light, I think."
"But you just got here," he protested and it blew my mind that he was actually protesting. "You could stay a while, stay the week surely."
"I have to get back," I managed. "There's a lot of important meetings this week and I can't miss them."
That had to be enough for him, he had to back the hell off now...but no. "We haven't seen you in nearly fifty years! You can't just fly in and out of m-our lives like this! You don't have to stay here. There's lots of hotels around."
"Edward," Bella said quietly, but it was clearly a warning. Personally, I couldn't believe she had waited that long to speak. "Stop."
"I'm just saying that you should stay a little longer," he said, desperation clear and present, yet mystifying. "Just a few days. You could...you could invite Roman to come here."
"What?" This was beyond insanity now. What the hell was he talking about and how did he even know Roman's name? Oh God, had he heard me talking to Roman on the phone? He must have. "No, no I have to go."
"Roman?" Nessie asked, curiously. "Who's Roman?"
"My friend, the genius. Look, I'm sorry to have to leave right away, but I dropped everything to come here for Jasper and I can't just stay. I'm sorry." I said it forcefully, praying that would be sufficient to put an end to whatever madness he was imbued with.
It looked like Edward was about to unleash a fresh onslaught of protest when Emmett spoke.
"Hey!" he cut in with almost comical cheerfulness. "How about you choose some music, Rose? You haven't chosen any yet and you knew Jasper best. If I have to hear any more Bob Dylan, I'll go crazy."
Grateful for the escape, I agreed and went with him inside the house.
"Well, that was fun," he said quietly once we were out of earshot of the others. "Are you OK?"
"Yes, fine," I lied. "It's been a strange few days, is all."
"So, you're seeing this guy, Roman?"
"Emmett." I closed my eyes. "Please, I just can't talk about this right now. I'm really sorry; I don't mean to be rude."
Giving me another reprieve, he relaxed enough as we flipped through old CDs. "That's cool. Like Nessie said, it'd be good to meet up some time in the future, maybe. Somewhere else. Under better circumstances, hopefully."
I stared unseeingly at a Joni Mitchell album. This entire situation with Jasper gone and Cullen's back in my life seemed utterly surreal. Now Emmett trying to save me from the family's insistence's was too much, causing me to ask, "Why are you being so nice to me?"
"I know, right? Where's all the righteous fury and bitter vitriol?" he laughed. I was more confused. "Don't get me wrong, there's some of it still floating about. But things do change and I wouldn't want to be angry for all eternity. Would you prefer I wasn't making an effort?"
"No," I agreed quickly. "No, of course not. I'm beyond grateful for you making an effort and I can't imagine what it takes to do that. I just feel like I don't deserve it." Though I had grown as a person the last forty-eight years, being around the Cullen's made me feel like I was regressing immeasurably. More than anything it was Jasper's glaring absence from my life making me crazy, unsure of everything around me, most of all myself.
"Maybe you don't," he said quietly. "But forever is a long time to hold a grudge and while I'm not saying all is forgiven and forgotten, I just want to get on with my life. Jasper would have wanted us to try for that, I think." I knew that much was true, but didn't verbally agree.
I took a deep breath, already knowing the answer before I asked, "Have you read the story he sent?"
"I have. It was pretty painful, but I got through it."
"I'm sorry you had to learn everything like that. I had no idea Jasper would ever do such a thing."
"It wasn't as bad as it could have been. Mostly, I was glad to know the worst of it. There was a lot you never told me and probably never would have."
After making my music selection, I put in a Leonard Cohen CD. I could see Jasper rolling his eyes and saying he wasn't quite that dead, thank you very much. "What was the worst thing you read?" I asked, because I had to know, despite how much it would sting.
Emmett went very quiet, to the point where I wondered if he hadn't heard me. But sighing he softly spoke, "When I accused you of cheating in Forks – you were in that hotel with Edward – doing just that. You denied it so completely that I felt disgusting for even thinking it. It was such an enormous lie and you told it so well...I felt incredibly stupid."
I wanted to say sorry, but knew it was useless. I had already given too many apologies making everything else seem awfully redundant. But it didn't stop me from constantly thinking it; the most useless phrase in the English language. "I can't understand why he sent it to you all."
"Well, aside from the bad stuff, there were a lot of interesting aspects," he pointed out. Before I could comment, he spoke in a tone of voice so unlike him, "I had no idea you were so in love with him." My ex husband sounded bewildered, sad and a little amazed all at once.
Oh God. "Emmett, I –"
"No, look...I'm not saying it to make you feel awkward or whatever. I'm really not." He momentarily paused. "You broke my heart, Rosalie. I loved you more than anything and discovering you with him, it tore me apart. There's no getting around that. And for a long time I couldn't feel anything other than the pain of that. I trusted you both and you betrayed me in the worst possible way. But in all the time since, I never really let myself think about the reasons why you did it. You can understand why I didn't want to. It took a long time for the pain to subside enough for me to even consider it." That was more than fair.
I was frozen in place by his words, unable to move or even think much beyond what he was saying.
He cleared his throat before continuing, "It was hard to accept and so I avoided it...until recently. You loved him first, more than me and more than you could cope with."
"That doesn't excuse what I did," I explained as soon as he paused to take a breath.
"No, nothing does, Rosalie. But as Jasper used to say, time devours all. I accept now that your actions were rooted in some kind of indefinable love, not the desire to destroy my heart. While that doesn't even begin to justify what happened, it goes a long way towards explaining it. Because I understand it a little more; I have some closure. Maybe one day...we could even be friends." It was too much to hope for I knew, but sweet of him to say.
Instead, I had to ask, "Are you friends with Edward?"
His calm expression faltered. "No, we're not," he admitted slowly. "But y'know – perhaps someday we could be a fraction of what we once were. He'll never be my brother again, no matter what. I know that for certain."
I knew that much for myself, too. I'd never forget the look on his face the day he discovered us.
Yet somehow after all I had done to inadvertently ruin him, Emmett had persevered and come out even stronger and somehow more resilient. I was joyful for him and his new love. "I'm so happy you've found love with Jemima," I said unfalteringly . "No one deserves it more." I meant every word.
He fixed me with such a look then; like for a moment he was older and wiser than I had ever known.
"That doesn't mean others don't deserve it too."
I wanted, God, how I wanted to believe he was talking about me. That I deserved to be happy, that I deserved love. But deep down, I knew there was no way I deserved any such thing. Emmett must have meant Bella and Edward. This must have been his way of telling me to let them be, I supposed.
"That's why I'm leaving," I explained with what I hoped was an air of credibility. "It's why I left in the first place, why I stayed away and why I'll leave once more."
Emmett tilted his head, looking confused. "Rosalie, do you think –?"
"Speech time!" Peter announced, coming up from behind me, giving me a one armed hug. "Come on, Rose! Got to give Jazz something to laugh about in the Great Beyond!"
The so called speeches went past in a blur. Thankfully, Peter had accepted my stern glare as sufficient refusal to say anything. Though perhaps I should have said something – maybe it was even expected – I simply couldn't. There was no way I could make some kind of speech about Jasper, and if I'd tried...it would have burst the shoddy dams I'd erected to hold myself together.
Alice, Carlisle and Peter spoke eloquently about Jasper. They said such wonderful, amazing and occasionally hilarious things about him. Carlisle even surprised me by shedding a few tears during his speech. It was this perhaps that triggered something I'd been half-dreading, half-acknowledging it was inevitable.
Like many years ago, when I felt about to crack apart while taking care of Pregnant Bella, my imaginary self had materialised before me, mocking my efforts. But unlike my imaginary self, the vision of Jasper I now saw beside me wasn't as vitriolic as Imaginary-Rosalie.
No, I could hear the playfulness in his voice as he jested,"I must say, I'm somewhat disappointed that no one has mentioned my vigilante activities."
Despite the encroaching insanity and the full knowledge that I was hallucinating, I cracked a grin.
"I mean, a good tenth of the lowlife population decreased in whatever place I was staying, thanks to me. I should have worn a mask, right? That's what it was. My lack of a mask prevented me from posthumous fame."
There was no way to help the little laugh (badly timed) as Carlisle was finishing up his speech. It was quite silent beside my inappropriate giggle.
Some of the others looked at me, puzzled, while others politely ignored me. Imaginary Jasper snickered. Even in death he was a terrible influence on me, I couldn't help thinking.
"I'm amazed you didn't bravely take the floor and tearfully recite a poem in my honour."
An instinctively acerbic comeback was on the tip of my tongue, but I was just sane enough to keep it in my head.
Just.
"And so in honour of our friend and family member, who's passing we celebrate this night. To Jasper."
The others echoed Jasper's name with reverence and fondness. How I longed for any kind of sentiment that resembled reverence or fondness, as opposed to crippling despair and verging hysteria that I felt.
Thankfully, Carlisle's remarks were the last. We took one final moment of silence before people starting breaking up and making goodbyes. Though the core family wouldn't be leaving, some of the lesser vampires would. I watched as they began approaching Carlisle, Esme, Alice and Peter to give their condolences once more before bidding everyone a farewell. It would be daylight in less than an hour.
"And," Jasper continued regardless of the many vampires leaving, "I can't help but feel somewhat jilted out of a monument being built in my honour. Rose, you could construct something, right? A nice statue, perhaps. I'd settle for a bench, even."
I rolled my eyes good-naturedly, finding once more the strength to not answer the hallucination. It was more difficult than one might've thought.
Vaguely, I knew that my mind wanted to substitute this reality for another and the hallucinations were its way of doing just that; helping me to cope. Still, it seemed cosmically unfair that I could smell him, despite his imaginary state.
Pushing my somewhat mad thoughts aside, I watched Carlisle warmly shake hands with Garret while Kate waited patiently beside him. I was glad that only Kate and Garret had come in representation of the Denali family. Seeing Tanya might have driven me a little over the edge. Not that Kate and I were on any kind of good terms, not by a long shot. The difference being I had nothing against her, personally – however much she might have disliked me.
I caught her eyes and saw how her face rumpled with obvious displeasure. She gave a long look, up and down leaving me in no doubt as to what precisely she was thinking of me.
Once Garret was finished with Carlisle, they turned to leave and I made my way to Carlisle, intent on apologising for the accidental laugh during his eulogy, of sorts. Kate about-turned very suddenly and came close to my face.
"I don't care what anyone else thinks!" she hissed, quiet and low. "It's despicable that you chose now of all times to try to worm your way back into the fold! After what you did, you should have been the one to walk into fire, not Jasper!"
I was rendered speechless, utterly stunned by the unexpected outburst and the sheer, heartfelt loathing behind it.
She turned and was gone before I could ever draw breath.
"I'm sorry, Rose," Carlisle said, with a frown. "She had no right."
It hadn't really occurred to me that my return could be taken as opportunistic. Now that she'd pointed it out to me, it seemed fairly blatant that most people would assume such a thing. Wonderful.
"No, it's fine," I said dismissively, despite my trembling voice. "No love lost between me and the Denali's."
"Still, what she said isn't true and no one who knows you would ever think that."
The shock had yet to wear off, my whole face felt numb. "Honestly, it's fine." It really wasn't, but it didn't matter. I deserved it. "Carlisle, I'm so sorry for laughing during the end part of your speech. I don't really know what happened, but it was very unintentional. I'm sorry."
He smiled. "Grief affects people in different ways." Carlisle was always so understanding. Or he must have still had a blind spot in the shape of me.
But what he said was truth. I turned apprehensively to see if the manifestation of my grief was still sauntering around, but he wasn't. When I turned back, Edward was there.
"Oh! Edward," I squeaked with rapidly vanishing dignity.
"Rose, I'm sorry for what happened earlier," he said in a tumble.
Carlisle laughed. "You should both just get the word 'sorry' tattooed on your foreheads. It'd save a lot of time." Edward looked momentarily confused. "Rosalie was just apologising herself."
"For what?"
"For laughing. During Carlisle's speech," I answered for myself.
Edward stared at me intensely for a second before saying, "Did you hallucinate Jasper?"
Literally my mouth fell open. "What? How did you –"
"I did too," he was quick to add. "All day yesterday, I saw him. I had a whole conversation with him."
Carlisle was looking back and forth between us with a concerned expression. "That's not healthy," he said gently.
"It happens sometimes when I'm seriously upset," Edward explained quietly, though he was staring at me. "It happened when you left, Rose. I saw you everywhere for at least a month."
I felt Edward pushing at the boundaries again, confessing this to me. I couldn't understand his reasoning's; what was the point? After the awkward moment of silence that followed, I cleared my throat. "I have to leave soon." My need to escape the madness, the Cullen's, and Edward especially was powerful.
"That's what I wanted to say," Edward started again with renewed desperation. "I'm so sorry for making a scene earlier. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything. I-I just want to be...your friend."
I didn't know if I could ever just be his friend. Our history was too heavily convoluted. The fact that he was willing to try broke my heart a little.
"Edward..." I began, but had nothing to follow it up with.
"What you said about other people, I respect that and I respect, you Rose, for saying it. I want you to stay so we might catch up, y'know – talk for a while. We could be friends."
Instinctively I replied, "I can't –" but Edward wasn't giving me any wiggle room. He was insistent.
"– Yet if you can't stay then maybe I could get your address and you could simply write to me...I mean us. Write to us. Just tell us what you're doing, things like that. Keep in touch, you know." I hated that he sounded so damned hopeful.
"Edward," Carlisle began gently, though it was clearly a warning.
"No, no I'm not asking for anything...like that, Carlisle, I swear!" he promised fervently. "I just can't bear the thought of another forty-eight years without a single word from you. Please, just think about it? We could be friends, right? Or even just..." his face scrunched up. "Pen pals."
I almost wanted to laugh. "Pen pals?"
He was clearly making effort to stay calm. "Anything. You could visit, come back in a few days and bring Roman. I'd...I'd really like to meet him." His last statement seemed to require enormous exertion on his part. He definitely thought I was with Roman, then. It was for the best, I supposed. Let him think that. Let him remain firmly attached to his life with Bella and the family.
"Edward, you're being pushy," Carlisle pointed out. "This isn't perhaps the best time."
Still, Edward wasn't to be dissuaded.
"It's the only time," he replied through gritted teeth. "Because she's leaving."
"I have to leave." I did. I really did.
"Rosalie," he said, fiercely. "I will do whatever it takes to be a part of your life, in whatever capacity you deem appropriate. Please, please think about it. Just to get a letter from you detailing the most mundane of activities would be incredible."
It was going to happen soon; the inevitable rising swell of too much, too soon was going to smash all my well crafted defenses into nothingness. I was going to break down and it was only a matter of when and how far away I could get before it happened. I recalled the look of revulsion Kate had cast at me and her assumption that I was here for one thing and one thing only. I couldn't let that assumption stand.
"Edward, I can't," I ground out. "Please understand that while I appreciate your effort, I really do, there is no way you and I could be just friends. You know why I left. You know why I have to stay away. You're making this so difficult for me and I can't understand why. For the last time, back off!"
If I felt devastated it was nothing to what I saw in his eyes, however fleeting.
"OK," he said lifelessly, shock etched into his beautiful features. "I-I'm sorry. Uh...goodbye then, Rose."
Though most people aside from the Cullen's had left by now, everyone in the room was staring at us. Edward left me at once without another word.
Just wait until you're out of the house, at least. "I'm sorry about that," I managed to say to Carlisle.
"Don't apologise." There was genuine sadness on his face, and I knew I had caused it. "Will you stay in touch, though?" He obviously knew nothing of Esme's correspondence with me, for which I want intensely grateful.
"I'm not sure," I vacillated. "Probably." You can't break down until you're away from them. "Goodbye, Carlisle."
He hugged me, but I barely felt it. "You're always welcome here, Rosalie. Never think otherwise."
I passed through goodbyes with Esme, Alice and Peter with ease. I also managed a formal, somewhat eloquent, group goodbye to Emmett, Jemima, Bella, Nessie and Jacob. Edward was nowhere to be seen.
Nessie broke ranks and gave me a small hug. "Don't be a stranger," she whispered against my cheek. "Auntie Rose."
Oh God, get out of the house before you fall to pieces.
There was one thing I had to take with me; Jasper's manuscript. Once I had that, I left the house and all its occupants. I was unable to feel my body in any way; there was enduring too much to even know what was coursing through me. Vaguely I realised I had no way of getting to the airport. My cell had died a while ago, too. I'd have to walk into the town and find a cab.
With shaking legs and even shakier emotions, I started walking. At last I was alone, away from others: their expectations, their questions about my life, their feelings towards me and their generous forgiveness. It was all too much.
Thankfully I had made it; I'd paid my formal respects to Jasper and stuck it out, managing a formal goodbye to everyone this time. But in the end, it had cost me greatly. Perhaps I should have waited before approaching the Cullen's; perhaps I should have grieved an appropriate amount of time before becoming involved with them again, but such thoughts were counterproductive. It was finished, done and I'd driven myself to this point regardless of the reasons.
And as I walked away from them...from him and his requests to be friends, I felt the first real crack in the damn bursting.
Hazily I had absorbed the beauty of the landscape and the freshness of the air, wishing it could cleanse me of the rising insanity within, stopper the surmounting bedlam about to break out.
Imaginary Jasper reappeared, his smile both kind and sad.
"Breathe," he suggested. "Breathe through it."
"Don't tell me to breathe," I groaned. "Breathing is the least helpful thing in the world right now!"
"There's not much else you can do," he pointed out. He sounded so like himself; calm and dry.
I walked with him a little while longer. On and on I continued, barely able to take in the beautiful surroundings. I managed to walk for a whole hour with Imaginary Jasper in companionable silence but then finally, finally, miles into my retreat from the Cullen's the entirety of everything caught up with me.
I would never see Jasper again, except in my mind. This – this creation of air and insanity – was all I would ever have of him again. My best friend, my brother, my Jasper. Without Edward or any of the Cullens in my life, my world had narrowed to the extent that Jasper had become almost everything to me. He had been right in the letter, I could survive without him but it would be forged from pain and loss. I would have to learn to be without him. I couldn't even began to understand how much I was going to miss him.
That was when the damn burst, completely taking me and everything sane with it
The ability to walk abandoned me. I sank to my knees on damp, soft earth and fell forward. It wasn't quite crying, more great shuddering paroxysms of grief wracking through me.
Jasper was gone...part of me, my soul. The loss of the Cullens and especially Edward felt as fresh as the day I'd left the first time. I felt more alone than I had in a very long time. Imaginary Jasper knelt beside me, silent and stoic even in death.
I had nothing left in that moment, nothing to do but let it all go and run its course.
And finally, finally, I let myself truly cry.
My dearest Jasper,
As I sit on a plane, taking me back to France, I can't help but write you this letter, even knowing that you're gone. Your last words to me were through pen and paper, so it only seems fair that mine are too. I feel so much that it seems like the sanest course of action is to try and put some of it into actual words. If I don't, I might truly lose my mind and I know you wouldn't want that. This is going to sound crazy, I can tell – but it doesn't matter. I'm only going to throw this letter away. Where would I send it anyway?
There's a hole in me, Jasper, where you once were. But you've also taken a piece of me too. A piece that has loved you since we first met. I will always love you, dearest, but that part of me has gone with you – unable to be left behind. We were always the 'twins'. Did you really think you could go anywhere I wouldn't follow, if only in some small way? From the first moment I saw your letter, I knew what had happened and that piece of me which was always intertwined with you...it went wherever you have gone. God this sounds insane, doesn't it?
Maybe it's for the best, we live for so long and encounter so much; sometimes things have to change and while it may hurt, it means we can move on. I knew you were unhappy here, Jasper. I saw it in your eyes, in the waning of your smile. Part of me hurts so much that I cannot conceive of living without you, but I know I have to. I've stopped hallucinating you now and that must be a good thing, right?
I left the Cullens behind and that was hard. Seeing Edward again, especially without you...it felt like the first time I left him all over again. Why is it always me who has to break his heart? It's beyond unfair. Just seeing him...it reminded me of why I have to stay so far away, so disconnected.
Jasper, I feel like I'm broken. I thought getting away from New Zealand would make me feel better, but I feel worse. I can't even blame you, completely. It's you...it's Edward...it's everything. It's overwhelming. Like I've just felt too much and I can't cope anymore. I want to be brave, get on with my life because that's what you would want. Maybe I'll feel stronger when I get back. I have a feeling Roman's going to be there, so that's something.
How much can I take before it's too much? Does it even matter? I know you told me a long time ago that I had to forgive myself and move on and I've tried. I even thought I'd succeeded. Now it feels like no matter what I try and do, this is all I deserve. Emmett is one of the best people I've ever known. I betrayed him for decades, broke his heart. This just feels like karma catching up with me. I know you'd tell me that's crap and to get a hold of myself but you're not here to say that anymore, are you?
I still love Edward so much
I just want to go back to him and tell him
Maybe I could just write to him? A couple of letters
I don't know what's wrong with me. This is some stupid little note written on the back of an air plane sickness bag, of all things. It feels like I'm talking to you and I know, I knowI'm not, but you never let me say goodbye. The last time I ever said to you, I made some stupid joke about the jacket you were wearing. You should have let me say goodbye properly. Should have let me hold you, tell you what you mean to me. I could never have put it into words properly, but I would have tried.
I would have stopped you. But you knew that, didn't you? That's why you went to Australia with Peter. Peter wouldn't stop you. I would have. I'm selfish like that, right? God, I sound pathetic.
I've run out of space. Love you always, Jasper.
Rosalie.
Two days later I was home. Home in my safe, welcoming France. The journey had been hellish; a slow, excruciating length of time taking me away from the Cullens and Edward once again. Just like I'd chosen to do all those years ago. The sick bag missive was still in my jacket pocket; I'd been unable to throw it away, despite my best intentions.
My world had turned itself upside down in the space of a week. I was bereft without my brother. Grief was affecting me so strongly because I'd gotten used to the idea of not having to grieve; at least not when the cause was death. Wasn't that supposed to be the one upside of being vampires? Yes, we were immortals, we didn't die; yet Jasper had chosen to die, chosen to leave and I was left behind with my immortality.
I was not surprised at all to find Roman waiting for me when I returned. I'd suspected it from the last conversation we'd had when I was on my way back. Something in the tone of his voice hinted that he wasn't telling me everything, though I'd been in no state to decipher it.
"Rosalie," he said when I closed the door behind me, dropping my purse. He smiled warmly, no trace of pity for which I was thankful. "You're earlier than you said."
"I managed to catch an earlier flight," I explained. "When did you get here?"
"Yesterday. I've been giving Olivier a few instructions. Making sure you didn't come back to the company in tatters."
I laughed, running a hand through my tangled hair. I felt filthy: smeared with imaginary grime and sweat. "Thank you so much. I really appreciate it. Did Sarah call? Or Jim?"
"Of course they did. They offered to come and stay for a while, but I told them to wait until you were back. I wasn't certain you'd want company."
Sarah and Jim were the first two I'd adopted in the 2040's. Sarah was married with three kids of her own now, well into her fifties. Jim still worked within Whitlen Havens; he ran the main Germany branch; he was recently divorced. They still called and visited often.
"Good call," I said. "As much as I love that they offered, I'm not really in the mindset to see them."
He came closer. "You look worn."
Understatement of the decade.
"I am."
He took me by the hand and led me into the bathroom. "I'll draw you a bath."
"No, I don't –"
"Yes, you do. Have a bath, then we'll talk. No arguments."
There was a specific reason I really didn't want to be in the bathtub, but I couldn't explain that to Roman without sounding insane. I glanced around the living room and saw that dozens of books were scattered around the place. I smiled to myself; a clear sign of Roman's presence.
"Alright," I called out, tossing my jacket on the couch and following him into the bathroom. "But I draw the line at you washing my hair."
"You washed mine," he said with a shrug, pouring in a rather alarming amount of bubbles. "Seems only fair."
"I appreciate the gesture, but I'm not that far gone."
"Have you seen yourself in the mirror?" he quipped. "I know we're the walking undead and all, but you're putting a tad too much effort into the look."
"Just haven't hunted in a while." I began to undress, wondering if I should care more that Roman was in the bathroom with me.
"How long?"
"Uh, two weeks I think."
"Bloody hell, Rosalie! That's far too long and you know it."
"I've been busy."
"I know you have, but you still need to take care of yourself."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Roman, that's way too much bubble bath!" There was a decent sized mountain of bubbles growing rapidly over the bath.
"I'm protecting your modesty," he explained as though that was totally logical. "Once you're in and hidden by said mountainous bubbles, tell me and I'll turn around."
I realised he'd been facing away from me the whole time. God, I really was becoming detached. "OK."
Only once I was in the bath, did I realise just how unclean I'd been feeling. I submerged myself in the scalding water – pleasantly warm to my icy skin – and finally felt like myself, if only for a moment. "I'm in and my modesty is well hidden," I said, gratified that I sounded slightly more normal.
He sat on the edge of the tub. "I should have come with you, while you were with them."
"No," I said firmly. "It's a lovely gesture but I had to face them alone."
"At what cost, though? I've never seen you like this. Your voice on the phone...I barely recognised you, Rosalie."
I felt the need to wash my hair, but to do that I'd have to dip my head totally under water. I couldn't do it. It reminded me too much of Edward and the Bath Tub Incident. I felt myself crying softly, unable to keep it at bay now my defenses were gone.
"Roman?" I asked in a quiet, shaky voice. "Will you wash my hair, please?"
"He offered to be your pen pal?" Roman asked.
"He was offering to be anything, so long as I was in his life in some capacity."
"You did the right thing."
"It feels the exact opposite of that." My broken heart was a testament to that.
Roman and I were sitting on the floor, atop a fluffy quilt in front of the fireplace. It was his idea to make a little nest where we could talk. He'd even lit the fire; completing the cozy, comfortable atmosphere. As we spoke, he piled his many books one on top of the other, making little walls around us; hiding us from the rest of the world.
"Do you feel you could be friends with him while keeping it that way? Nothing but friendship?"
I shook my head. "No."
"Then you did the right thing."
"You didn't see his face. I break everyone's heart."
"You've yet to shatter mine into a thousand pieces," he said cheerfully.
I quirked an eyebrow. "You don't qualify, sweetheart."
"Hey! I qualify! I over-qualify, if anything!"
"You're gay, Roman."
"And you're straight, Rosalie."
"I'm just saying, you're fortunately immune to the tragedy I bring to the lives of men."
"So you're somehow responsible for Jasper now? That's impressive."
"No, I'm not quite that egotistical."
"I think your ego is astounding, my love. I mean it nicely."
"Oh, well of course!"
"You think you break everyone's heart. You bring tragedy. You're the harbinger of doom to those who surround you."
"I know how it sounds. It just feels like I've done so much damage."
"Maybe you did, but that doesn't mean you can't change. You can change. I mean, you have changed, right?"
"You didn't see me there with him. I kissed him! I saw that ring on his finger and I kissed him anyway! I couldn't help myself...it just happened, despite how much I'm supposed to have changed."
He shrugged and topped off another mini book wall. "You left, though. You took the high road. Would the old you have done that?"
"Probably not." Definitely not. The old me of so long ago wouldn't have been able to resist. Strange to think of myself in the past tense.
"I wish I could have known you back then."
"No, you don't."
"Are you going to read the story Jasper wrote?" Leave it to Roman to change the subject so completely.
I hitched my knees to my chest, feeling vulnerable about the story; about my life being made into an open book, pun very much intended. "Yes. I can't stop thinking about it."
"I think it might be good for you," he said. "A little retrospect to make things clearer."
"Would you stay with me while I read it?"
"Of course." He reached through the small, narrow doorway he'd made from our castle of books and pulled my bag inside. "God, that's heavy!"
Taking Jasper's book out, I opened it up to the first page and took a very deep breath. "It's got chapters and everything."
He peered over and read upside down. "Breaking Points? That's a little...dramatic, isn't it?"
With a shrug, I replied, "Sounds about right, actually."
"Do you want me to go away while you read?"
"No. No, please stay. Could I maybe read a little of it aloud to you? It might not feel so strange if I do."
"Really? I thought you might want to read it alone."
"No," I shook my head. "If you're here it's like...filtered reality or something. I don't know, I just can't read it alone. Is that OK? Feel free to say no."
"I'd love that. Introduce me to the long lost Rosalie of days past."
I cleared my throat. "Chapter One: Breaking Points."
Five hours had passed yet it felt like barely ten minutes. Jasper's writing was undeniably beautiful, and reading it made me feel like he was almost there with me. His narrative was a strange replacement for his company in some ways. I found myself amazed at what he had depicted, though. The comparison of myself from so long ago to myself of the present was jarring. The changes were astonishing. For the first time, I saw the real difference between Jasper and myself. I had changed and he had not.
He had alluded to his inability to change and grow in the letter, citing it as one of the reasons he was unable to continue living. It was clear as day now. I had changed a lot. So much so that I barely recognised that furious young girl. Maybe I was even a little proud of just how much I had changed, grown. Roman found it somewhat hilarious; constantly suppressing laughter whenever Jasper depicted me throwing a tantrum of biblical proportions.
I was only seventeen chapters in when the sun began to set. "We've been reading for a long time," I pointed out. The room was almost totally dark; my vampire eyesight had allowed me to continue reading long after a human would have been unable to.
"But it's good," Roman told me. "I'm intrigued. And just a little heartbroken. No wonder you choose to stay away; if that had been my past life, I think I'd prefer to forget it. Is it strange, though, reading about yourself?"
"Very. It's weird seeing what little things Jasper remembered, too. Like how he knew I promised Edward I'd dance with him at his wedding. I hadn't told Jasper about that, but Edward must have told him."
"Should I light some candles? Or is that tempting fate, with all the flammable old books surrounding us?"
I laughed before the thought even occurred to me. Fire. Jasper's weapon of choice for his parting. Roman seemed to catch on because he sobered before saying, "Oh, Rose...I'm sorry. I didn't even think."
"No, it's fine." I sat up from where I'd been lying on my stomach. Roman had been leaning on my back, staring up at the ceiling as I'd read aloud. It was unusual for us to be so physically close, but I appreciated it. Maybe I even needed it. I crossed my legs and put the book in my lap. Roman scooted closer, enough that we were shoulder to shoulder.
"Do you feel any better for reading it?" he asked softly.
"Somewhat. I was dreading seeing it through Jasper's eyes, but he obviously knew more than I thought. He understood it more than I thought, too. I'm still horrified that the Cullens have read this, though. It tells them of so many things I didn't want them to know."
"Like what?"
I sighed with frustration. "I didn't want them to know how much I love him."
"Why not?" Moodily, I leaned my head on my knee and remained silent. "Rosalie, why didn't you want them to know?"
"I can't explain it without sounding crazy."
"Nothing wrong with a little craziness," he said, gesturing to the book castle he'd constructed around us. "Try me."
"It makes it seem like an excuse for what I did."
"What you both did," he corrected gently.
"Like somehow my loving Edward that much could ever justify my actions."
"I don't think that's what Jasper was trying to do. Are you afraid of them forgiving you?"
"Maybe." Yes.
"That does seem crazy, but I understand why you might feel that way," he said, wrapping his arm around me. "If they forgive you, you might be able to go back. If you go back, you'll have to see him again. If you see him again, you're worried that you won't be able to control yourself. You're worried you'll be like this Rosalie," he gestured to the pages. "The person you ran away from, the girl you left behind."
"I didn't leave her behind, I'm not stupid enough to think that's possible."
"But you've worked hard to be the person you are today: kind, caring and selfless. I understand the fear of regressing into an old version of yourself, I really do." I knew that was true; Roman had been verging on insane when I'd first met him and it took a solid year before he'd even begun to recover.
"I know you do. Thank you for being here, for staying. It means the world to me." My breath hitched a little and I felt my eyes sting. "You're all I've got now." Tactfully, he didn't say anything. After a few minutes of silence, I gave him a kiss on the cheek. "But life goes on, doesn't it? Why don't you get some candles and I'll start on chapter eighteen?"
"What's the title?" he asked, stepping carefully over the book walls.
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Hamartophilia. Whatever that means."
"Hamartophobia is the fear of committing sinful acts, so I suppose Hamartophilia is the love of committing them."
"Well," I said with a snort. "That sounds about right."
Love of committing sinful acts. That summed up so much between Edward and myself; such an apt term. Trust Jasper to have utilized it perfectly. I knew what this chapter was going to be about, based on the previous one. It was the car crash; the hotel incident Emmett had mentioned in New Zealand.
Jasper had known so much more than I'd ever thought. I had to wonder how. There were details that he couldn't have known without either myself or Edward telling him. I knew for certain that I hadn't told him even half of what I'd read. Had Edward told him these things? Jesus, had Edward...helped him write it?
No, that was crazy. I'd asked Edward if he'd read it and he'd said no. If he'd helped write it he would have said something. Wouldn't he?
"Well?" Roman asked, sitting in front of me, lighting three large church candles. "Did you want to read some more? I can take over if you'd prefer. I have a very good reading voice."
"Roman, I think Edward helped Jasper write this."
"What?"
"There's too much in here that I never told Jasper. Things he couldn't know."
"What would that mean, if he did help him?"
"I don't know. I can't think why he'd do that, if he did it at all. Christ, I'm probably losing my mind!"
"Maybe he had to talk to Jasper," Roman suggested gently. "About what happened. About you."
"I guess that makes sense." I'd always had Jasper to talk to about that kind of thing. Who did Edward have for that? Carlisle? Emmett? Bella? I'd never thought of Edward needing to speak to anyone about me, but now that the thought had occurred, it seemed obvious he would. Though he'd worked things out with Bella, he probably needed to confront a lot of things before he was able to let go.
"It must have been hard for him when you left."
"I saw him in the rear view mirror, falling to the ground. Yet another shining example of the carnage I inflict on those I love."
"Lose the self-deprecation, Rose. Jasper wouldn't have allowed it."
"But Jasper's not here. He's gone and this is all I have left of him now." I stared hard at the pages, detailing some of my most intimate moments with Edward. "This could be his way of telling me to move on."
Roman looked dubious. "I don't think that's what this is, darling."
But I was warming to my theme now. "No, I'm serious. This could be why he sent it, maybe even wrote it in the first place! Maybe he was trying to get me to face the past, instead of hiding from it."
"You did face your past. You went to the Cullens."
"And ran away as fast as I could."
"Are you saying you want to go back?"
"No."
"Then...what?"
"I don't know. I just want to be able to move on, put all this past me!"
"Rosalie –"
"No! No, I know what I'm talking about! This is Jasper telling me I should have moved on! Like Edward has!"
"Uh, from what you told me, I don't think Edward has moved on that much."
"He's wearing the ring. Isn't he?" I asked, only partially aware that I was starting to sound frantic. "He was there with Bella, side by side."
"That doesn't mean anything."
I could feel the madness rising up again, but it was strengthened by determination. "Look at what I let happen when I saw him! Kissing him like that, when I knew Bella was in the other room. What was that word? Hamartophilia? That's exactly what I have. I should have let this go by now, should be moved on. But I'm still her, deep down!"
He gently put his hands on my shoulders, trying to make me look at him. "Rosalie, no."
"If I haven't changed, then Jasper was wrong about me and I-I can't last here, I can't survive here!"
"You have to calm down."
I shook my head wildly. "I have to put this behind me, Roman. I have to find my own way to get past him; all of this, everything!"
"And you will, in time."
"When? Another forty-eight years? Another hundred?"
"Please look at me. You're grieving! OK? You've lost your brother. That alone would warrant an unspeakable amount of grief, but you've also seen your family again. Something you swore never to do. It's affecting you and you're trying to cope, but Rosalie...you're not coping."
"Then what am I doing?"
He put his hand to my face. "I think you're breaking down. I've never seen you like this. So in shock, so...detached."
"It's because I haven't been able to move on."
"No, I don't think it's that."
"I've been running away from all this for so long. It's time I faced up to it." I stood up abruptly, knocking over some of the books. "I know what I have to do."
"What do you have to do?"
"I have to leave." I looked around at my place wildly, planning what to take with me. "I have to leave today."
"No, stop!" Roman implored, following me around the apartment. "Please just slow down and think about this."
"I am thinking about it," I said, twirling to face him with a beaming smile. "Don't you see? This way, I can go to all the places that mean the most to me and I can let them go. I can let it all go! I can move on and change, be a better person like...like Edward! Finally!"
"Edward is not a better person than you, and even if he was, it doesn't matter!"
"Of course it matters! Look at what he's done! He helped Jasper write this book!"
"You don't know that."
"And he's back with Bella; he's there with the Cullens! With Nessie! He's done everything I told him to do, but I haven't! I have to be better; I have to move on too."
"You are better, you couldn't be better!" he said, trying to take my hand. I violently pulled away and accidentally smashed a lamp.
I stared at it for a long moment before I shook my head. "I-I'm sorry. I know this sounds crazy, but it's not. I just...I have to go."
"Go where?"
"There are places in the world where parts of me got left behind. Little pieces of my soul, tied up with his and...have to free them. I have to go set them free before I can truly move past all this."
"Then let me come with you."
I knew how bad it looked. I could see it reflected in his eyes. Maybe I could minimize the damage, make it so he worried less. "No, sweetheart. It's so kind of you to offer, but I have to go alone. Look, I know I seem like a basket case right now. I'm smashing lamps and ranting about being a better person, but deep down this is s-something I've needed to do for a while." Damn, I wished my voice was steadier; it would make the lie so much more believable. "I just need to go away for a while and do this. Like an emotional cleansing or purge, y'know?"
He seemed totally unconvinced. I cursed myself for not being able to lie well for the first time in my life. "You're lying, Rose. You never lie to me."
"I'm not. I really think this will be good for me. I can get away, take a break from work. It's just what I need."
"Then why do you have to leave right away?"
"Jasper, this isn't about –" I froze. "I mean, Roman. I meant to say..."
"This is what I'm saying," he tried reasoning, coming over and attempting to catch my eye. I didn't want to see the pity or the concern. "You're not ready. You need time."
Time devours all, that's what Jasper used to say, except he'd say it in flashy, well pronounced Latin. But I was sick of time. All I had was time in abundance, time without people I loved. Time with too many memories. Well, screw time.
"It's what I need to do," I told Roman, trying to smile convincingly.
"I'm begging you not to go. You shouldn't be alone."
"I'll be fine. This is...this is something I have to do."
He opened his mouth to protest, but I moved away and began packing some things. He would understand, once it was done. He'd forgive me for running away.
'I know you'll forgive me...'
I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, trying to swallow down the memory. There would be plenty of time for that later. "Anyway, I'll call every day and give instructions. It'll be just like I'm away on business, nothing different."
Roman didn't say anything. I knew he was watching me, scrutinizing my actions which were admittedly erratic. I'd just accidentally tried to pack a plant.
It would all be better soon. I nodded to myself, packing with trembling fingers. I would be better. Just as I had asked Edward to be.
-Roman-
This was it. The emergency cell number, contained within an envelope. It had been given to me by Jasper – one very strange day, two months ago – when he'd flown to Germany to visit me without Rosalie knowing.
"This," he'd told me. "Is for emergencies. Sometimes Rosalie goes into these weird depressions. This number is not for that. This is for a real emergency. You'll know it when you see it. If it happens, you have to call this number."
"This is your number?" I'd asked.
"No. It's not my number. It's the number of someone who can help if she needs it. I hope she won't, but I have a feeling that she might."
After Rosalie had left, the first thing I did was open the envelope and pull out the small slip of paper with the number. I had kept it on me at all times lately, suspecting I might need it. No name, no other instructions. That wasn't helpful. Who the hell was I even calling? One of those Cullens? Probably. Well, it didn't matter. Rosalie was free falling and she needed help. Short of chaining myself to her, I didn't know what else to do.
I dialed it, feeling my stomach flutter with nerves. It rang a few times before a man answered it. His voice was rich and pleasant; American with a hint of crisp British.
"Hello?" he said.
Actually, it was kind of sexy. "Uh, hello," I responded, unable to stop myself from using my phone voice, completely forgetting why I was calling. "Uh..."
"Sorry, who is this?"
"This is..." I floundered to recall my own name. "Roman. I'm Roman." Why was I speaking with that weird, deep voice? Bloody hell, was I flirting with Mr. Sexy Voice? To be fair, it was his fault for sounding like that. He could make a lucrative business talking on the phone; not even saying anything remotely sexy. He could be reading from the dictionary and I would have paid to hear it.
There was a massive pause. "Roman, as in...Rosalie's Roman?"
That sounded funny yet I refrained from giggling at the last moment. I felt somewhat hysterically crazy; on the verge of laughing and crying, with a side of flirting. Maybe Rosalie's hysteria was contagious.
"Ah...yes! Rosalie's friend. Roman. That's me."
"I see."
I realised he was waiting for me to speak, which was only fair given that I had called him. "Well, this probably sounds a bit odd but do you mind if I ask who this is?"
More confused silence. I was surprised he hadn't hung up yet. "You're calling someone and you've no idea who it is?"
"It's kind of a long story, actually."
"I'm Edward," he told me. "Edward Cullen."
Crap. Crap, crap, crap! Nicely done, Roman. "Oh. I...see."
"Look, if you're calling because you're worried about anything that happened when Rosalie came here, you have nothing to worry about."
"Oh no! That's not –"
"Please, believe me! Rosalie loves you! She loves you and she made that very clear. You have nothing to fear from me."
"Uh ...what?" This was getting weird.
"I'm glad she's happy, I really am. She deserves happiness."
"Sorry, but what the hell are you talking about?"
Pause. "You and Rosalie."
Ohhh! No, wait – what? "Rosalie and I aren't together. Did you think we were together?"
"You broke up? Because she didn't do anything with me, she's loyal to you!"
"NO! No, no, no, no, no!"
"No?"
"No."
"I'm confused."
"Rosalie isn't with me in any way, shape or form. Not romantically, not physically, not even in the sense that she's here!"
"You and Rosalie aren't...together?"
"Nor have we ever been. Or ever will be."
Someone said something in the background and Edward frantically shushed them. "But...why didn't she tell me? She let me think you two were involved."
"She probably wanted to make it easier. What with you and uh...what's her name? Bertha?"
"You mean Bella?"
"Yes, that's it. What with you and Bella being the happy couple and all."
More silence, presumably of the stunned variety. "Bella and I aren't a couple."
"What?"
"Does Rose think we are? Oh my God! That's why she was so..."
"I TOLD YOU!" a young girl yelled in the background. "I told you she thought that! But OH NO you couldn't take five minutes to explain the ring, could you?"
There was more shushing and a weird clattering noise, like he'd dropped the phone. "Hello? You still there?"
"I'm here."
"OK, so just to confirm; you and Rosalie aren't together? And she's not with anyone else?"
"No, she's single. But that's not why I –"
"Roman, I'm not with Bella. I haven't been with Bella pretty much since Rosalie left! I-I need to see her. Please, please tell me where she is!"
"Edward!" I yelled, impatience eating away at my manners. "I called you for a specific reason!"
"Yeah, I'm sorry. Go ahead. Oh my God...Rosalie's OK, isn't she?"
"She's not hurt," I rushed to reassure him. "But she's not in a good place right now. Look, Jasper left me this number to call in case she was ever in trouble. She needs help, and I don't know what to do."
"Tell me where she is. I'm coming now."
"That's the point! I don't know where she is. She's gone away on some grand tour of the places she might have, 'Left Parts of her Soul Behind'."
"She read the book, didn't she?"
"Some of it. How did you know?"
"Damn. I knew I should have stopped her from taking it. It's what I'd do. Go to all the places that mean something to us."
"Then you can find her!"
"I can try. Are you in France? Is that where she left from?"
"Yes. She's got a private jet, but she might not use it if she thinks I'll follow her."
"I'm booking a flight now. There's a place in France she might start with, but by the time I get there she'll probably be gone. Still, it's a start."
"Thank you, Edward."
"Are you kidding? Thank YOU! If you hadn't called, I would never have known and you...you're just a miracle!"
I rolled my eyes. "Well, I wouldn't go that far!"
"If you hear from her, please call right away?"
"Of course. Have a safe flight."
He hung up without another word. Despite my prevailing nerves, I managed a smile.
"A miracle, huh?" I could live with that.
-Rosalie-
Unspecified Location in the Blue Ridge Mountains,
Virginia.
It had taken me the best part of three days to find it. The last time I'd stumbled across it – oh so long ago - it had been by pure accident. That made locating it again difficult. Not to mention how much the landscape had changed since then. A solid one hundred and forty-five years had passed between the time I'd last been here, versus now. I mostly had to rely on sense memory, retracing footsteps long since eroded from the earth, but not from my mind.
The nearby house we'd lived in at the time had been demolished and rebuilt, but the memories still remained in the same place. Seeing our former house gone and replaced left me reeling. For some reason, I had expected to see it standing still, a tribute to something I couldn't really define.
Sadly, this wasn't the first time on my journey I'd been left reeling. The shock of seeing places, which meant something to me destroyed, changed or re-modeled was quite staggering. I knew it was foolish of me to expect that these places stay unchanged. The only things truly remaining physically untouched were, well...us. Not the land, not human growth, and especially not places from Edward's and my past that was closest to my heart.
The first stop on my journey had been the lighthouse in France. It had been newly reinforced and rebuilt in places where it was rotting. Yet thankfully it still stood, essentially still the same structure. I'd managed to get inside, and although most of the interior had been gutted, it was filled with stubborn ghosts that had refused to leave.
'Some throw pillows and a mirror, maybe? Bring in a piano and you'd never have to leave!'
Recalling those words made me smile, despite the heavy context of the memory. I'd closed my eyes and let it all rush over me: Edward looking so broken, hiding away in his little sanctuary; Edward tracing shapes on my skin; Edward trying to fuse his soul to mine.
'You are mine and I am yours. Nothing will change that. Not time, or love or obligation. Not lies or coldness or even God.'
It had become our mantra, our own private prayer. And in that place was the first time we'd ever uttered it. The very first time I had realised we were damned for our actions but that it didn't matter. Nothing would ever matter to me like he would.
I'd stood there for a while longer until all the memories had washed over me. Though they were both painful and pleasurable to relive, I knew I had come to the right place. This journey was about getting on with my life and finally trying to live without Edward. He had moved on. Jasper had seen it and through his story was telling me to, also.
I tried to take the ghosts with me, but they seemed intent on staying: sunk into the floors and walls, the very essence of the place. I decided that because it was my first port of call, it didn't really matter. The other places would be better, would yield more results.
Yet sadly, they hadn't.
No matter where I went, the memories were anchored there; adamant on staying and indestructible. Ithaca, Alyeska., Rochester...even several places in Washington.
All those ghosts and memories had taken root, refusing to leave with me. It didn't matter how much I tried to cajole them, they refused to budge, leaving me bereft. The plan to finally free myself from the death grip of the past was flailing, left with too many holes to plug.
And so perhaps, desperately, I had saved the place which held the most significance to me until last.
The derelict, crumbling church in the Blue Ridge Mountains.
It had been the place where everything about Edward and I really began: our love-making, our intense fighting, our desperateness, our decision to use Emmett in our affair, our deep, debilitating and corroding lies. It seemed as if our unstable foundation had been laid at that crumbling church in the woods.
My scope had narrowed to the point of obsession, and I knew –deep down– how truly fucked up everything had become. How my journey to put Edward in the past (where he rightly belonged) had failed. I spent so long struggling simply to tread water on this blast from the past, and now it was like my legs had given out. All my efforts had been for naught.
I'd once had a family; a husband, parents, siblings...and I'd had love. Love had been there right in front of me for so long and I'd let it become corrupted. Something dark and duplicitous. Both with Emmett and Edward
Despite all the lies, heartache, jealously, anger and sometimes happiness, everyone had still found out, everyone had been able to see what I'd allowed to fall into depravity. The twisted, addictive sickness that had infected what had once been called love...it had been dragged into the light for all to see.
That should have been the end of it. It should have killed everything existing between Edward and me. If not at first, then in the subsequent years that had passed. The first ten, maybe. Twenty. Thirty. Forty, definitely. Yet it hadn't ended.
Part of me had hoped that seeing him in New Zealand would prove some strength of character, strength of resolve...or maybe even prove that it had withered and died. That distance and time had finally extinguished the fire between us.
Only nothing had been extinguished on my part. Nothing had dampened, lessened or diminished in any way whatsoever. The truth was that seeing him then, standing by Bella...it felt like the first time I'd looked upon him and realised that I hadn't just loved him, he was everything. He was love come to life. He was me.
Like the other places I had visited on my Greatest Hits journey, this place still held a part of us. It was ironic, really, that the crumbling church which had been the beginning of our affair was also the resting place of it. I couldn't have him, he was gone. He was Bella's now. But I could have the little piece of us that had broken off and sunk into the ground. I could have the ghost of us.
Though the church had fallen into even worse disrepair than the last time I'd seen it, somehow it made me feel better. Unlike the other places, no one had tried to rebuild or maintain it. It had been left alone; perhaps untouched since last we had come upon it. Of that I couldn't be sure, but I liked to believe it.
The old brick was damp and rotting, tinged green with moss. The roof had caved completely, with the walls slowly sinking to the ground. Right beside it, a dying oak tree leaned ever closer, lending the church some measure of cover.
The last time I had been here, I was twenty-one years old; newly turned and thinking I knew everything there was to know. That girl, so disillusioned and angry seemed almost separate from the person I had become. Now at the age of one hundred and sixty-six...it wasn't that I knew better, I just knew more. The more I knew, the more I realised I didn't know and it was humbling. I was a different person and yet I still felt the energy of that place. I felt the tangible ghosts, the memories. I felt us. It had been foolish to think that anything of us could ever be erased, removed or forgotten.
And instead of receiving the closure I'd expected on this walk down memory lane, I knew –despite the lies I'd told Roman– there was no moving past it, no getting over Edward. I'd know all along.
There was only survival, living in the most basic sense of the word. Ghosts in place of my soul's other half. Broken down buildings in lieu of love. I could endure and survive (I had done so for many years), but that was all I could really expect...without him. It shouldn't have been that way, my rational mind insisted. I knew how pathetic it was to have one's life so wrapped up in someone else, but it was as unchanging as my physical appearance. Unstoppable and instinctual, part of who I was.
With a weary soul, I went inside the beautiful ruin, dragging my fingers along the bricks as I moved. I sighed aloud and said, "So this is all that's left. Memories and relics. Ghosts and skeletons." Part and parcel of living forever, of course. Everything died, everything ceased to be at some point except for us. It was inevitable that the more time went on, the more the world looked like a graveyard strewn with skeletal memories.
"Do you remember me?" I asked the church. "You probably don't. Though, I can still feel him and me here. Yeah...I remember you. How could I forget? This is where I took his remaining innocence. Where we stopped being children, forever."
Our ghosts of old whispered in my ear, 'What don't you understand? What part of 'never speak to me again' is too much for your limited comprehension?'
I smiled sadly while moving to one corner. So much anger. I'd always felt it but never really understood the reasons behind what drove said anger. I had spent a lifetime being angry, furious even without stopping to ask why.
'Let's face it, Edward, together we do nothing but create pain and destruction. Together, we hurt each other. Together we make mess; terrible, devastating mess. Why are you pressing this? Why can't you let it go? Why can't you just let me hate you?'
I should have tried harder, should have let go of my twisted pride. We could have made it work; we had so many chances. We could have returned home from this church (hand in hand) and explained ourselves. It would have been difficult yet not impossible. Emmett would have understood, in time. Carlisle and Esme would have supported us, even if they disapproved of our deception. But we always lied, always made bad choices.
But with perspective and especially hindsight, I could see where things went wrong. What we'd had was so terribly difficult to understand, especially given how young we were upon starting to feel it. It didn't justify the lies, anger, and destruction we caused to each other and our family, but it was a key factor in knowing what had brought me here to this moment. Love had been unknowable to me, then. I'd felt like I was flying a plane without ever having trained to do so.
Without any instruction or understanding of what was happening, we had forged on headstrong and made confident by our mastery of deception and lies. I had always been a brilliant liar and so had he. We'd lied to ourselves enough to believe that we could have everything. The best of both worlds at no real cost because lies would always protect us, right?
How stupid we'd been then. How stupid I was now, revisiting every place of significance for us, hoping to somehow magically be cured of loving someone who was lost to me forever.
"I love you, Rose. I love you so much it hurts me in every possible way. Every second of my existence is agony because you're not with me; because you won't look at me, or speak to me. I love you so much and it's wrong that you're not mine."
It felt inevitable, really. I'd hallucinated Jasper and now of course I was doing the same thing with Edward. It made sense, of course. I'd sensed his presence at each and every place I'd visited. Always just out of reach, but close by. Maybe that's why I'd fled to these places; to feel his essence again, imaginary or otherwise. My poor, broken mind had finally given in and created him out of thin air, echoing sentiments and words from long ago.
I turned to face my hallucination head on. As expected, he was flawless; I had to give my imagination credit. It could have easily been him standing there, for real. My mind was even giving me full sensory surroundings: his scent, the sounds of his slight movements as he walked towards me, even an imaginary pressure against my mind.
"I'll always be yours, love," I said, wiping away stray tears. Maybe if I talked to him, it would yield some cathartic sense of closure. "But you'll never be mine."
He took another step forward. I was a little concerned at the lengths my imagination was willing to go. I could practically hear his footfalls. "No-one will ever love you as much as I do. Never."
Of course, Imaginary Edward was parroting parts of our conversation from the last time we were here. An unexpected wave of bitterness broke over me for a moment. Was I forever to be surrounded by the ghosts of those I loved and had lost?
"If you loved me, you wouldn't put me through this," I croaked, playing along because what else would I say?
His eyes...Jesus, for a hallucination he sure was showing an incredible range of emotions. "I don't just love you, Rose, I adore you, I worship you...I am you. We're the same soul in two bodies...and the word 'love' falls woefully inadequate to describe what I feel for you."
I sank to my knees, unable to support myself. "I'm sorry, Edward," I told my beautiful mirage as I began to cry. "I'm so sorry. If I could go back and make it right, I would."
He approached and knelt before me, concern and love in every flicker of his expression. It was painfully unfair how real he seemed. "You don't think I'm really here, do you?"
Something jolted inside me – something small, and until now, quite dormant. "You're not." At least I was mostly sure he wasn't.
He wiped my falling tears away with what felt like a very real fingertip. "I love you beyond what I ever thought capable, Rosalie. I can't even say how much, there aren't words. Words are for humans, and no human has ever felt this, could ever cope with feeling this." He leaned closer, and the small sensation inside grew stronger, conviction lending it strength. "Let me show you how much I love you."
"Please stop it." I tried shying away from his imaginary touch. "This isn't fair."
"Rose," he said firmly, taking my face gently into his hands. "Did you really think I wouldn't find you? That you could run from me? From us?"
It felt too real, far too real. My demented mind was playing tricks, despite what my senses wildly insisted. "That's what I do. I run from you, from everything." The words slipped from my tongue without permission. I was giving in to this illusion, no matter how much I fought to stay above it.
"I'm real, Rose. Let your mind open up and you'll feel it."
I closed my eyes, shaking my head weakly. "It's a trick."
"No. It's not a trick. I'm here. I've been trying to catch up with you. I've chased you all over the damned place. Always one step behind – until now."
The nagging sensation was begging to be given control, trying to overrule me, but I refused. Hope was dangerous; I was too close to the edge as it was. It would take so little to push me over. "You're saying everything I want to hear. That gives me a pretty good indication that you're not real."
"I spoke to Roman," he whispered, thumb tracing down my cheekbone. "He told me you weren't doing so well." His voice was steady and strong, the way mine never seemed to be anymore. "He also told me that you and he weren't together."
"Please stop," I implored.
"You thought I was with Bella," he went on, ignoring my plea. "You saw the ring and thought we were married." He held the hand with the ring in front of my face. "This ring. Rosalie, darling, this was your ring. This was one of the rings you broke and left behind years and years ago, but I kept it. I kept it for so long and when you left, I had it mended and enlarged." My eyes werefixed on the small band of silver on his ring finger. The width, the subtle twist of the metal...it could have been mine, once. "I wore it for the whole time you were gone. I had to keep a part of you with me."
Trembling, I reached out very slowly. The metal was cool to the touch (even a vampire's touch) and so incredibly real that I forgot how to breathe.
"I tried to make it work with Bella for a few months," he continued in a hoarse whisper. "I tried, like you told me. But it wasn't meant to be. She told me so herself. It didn't work, couldn't work, because no matter what...it's you. It's always been you, Rose."
I wanted to laugh because all I could think of was how this was yet another breaking point. My mind, my sanity giving way to the fake substitute it had created for me and worst of all...my childlike acceptance of the comfort it gave. This was the point at which I broke.
"You can't be real."
He smiled sadly. "Why not?"
"You just...can't be."
"But I am, darling. I'm right here. You and I have served our time, we've done all that we can in this life to make up for what we've done and though it'll probably never be enough...I am here and you have to believe me."
I looked at him then: slowly, heavily, realisation began to filter through the chaos of my mind.
"Edward?" I murmured. "You're –"
"I'm always here," he replied, pressing the hand with his ring –my ring– to my heart.
I let out a messy sob. "You're real?"
Determinedly, he reassured, "I am. I'm real, and I'm right here." He lifted my hand and carefully intertwined our fingers, closing them before giving a small squeeze. It felt completely real. "Open your mind to me, Rose. Trust me."
Did I still have that trust to give? I wasn't sure. Yet I knew with everything within me I wanted to try. I was on the verge of some big change either way, dancing on a razorblade. If he wasn't here then I was broken in more ways than could be fixed. If he was here, then...
So slowly I closed my eyes and focused on the titanium-strong barrier in my mind. I felt the pressure behind it ease off a little. When the last of the barrier fall away there was a moment of adjustment. Without it there, I initially felt exposed. It had become a part of me, and with it gone, I felt almost naked.
Before I could panic, trying to reconstruct them, a golden thread of warmth and light reached out to me. There could be no hallucinating that.
He was real. The connection was pure and undeniable. It was him.
The thread had sought and found its counterpart. Happily, they twirled around each other for a moment, like strands of DNA, before touching and finally, finally knitting together.
I had been torn in half for so long that I'd forgotten what it could feel like to be whole. My eyes flew open, lips parting, air gushing out, a thousand words I couldn't articulate staying unspoken.
Instead, I reached out and ran my hands though his hair, almost losing myself in the sensation of that alone. His breath caught in his chest, and oh...I could feel him again.
I could feel him inside me; feel the love, the passion, the bright piercing happiness he felt, and for once...I was the sole cause.
"I can feel you," I whimpered helplessly, childlike. "I can feel everything."
"You've no idea," he murmured, leaning forward so that our noses touched, "what it's like to feel you. So many years, Rosalie Hale."
I began to cry again; tears of happiness, lined with sadness. "I'm so sorry," I gasped. He shook his head fervently.
"Don't be sorry, my love. No more apologies, no more regrets."
I didn't know if I could ever live up to that, but with him truly here, speaking and touching me, I would try.
"I love you, Edward. I've never stopped loving you, not once." It felt important to tell him that, though I knew he could feel it, too.
His face crumpled with the weight of his emotions and I felt him fighting for control. "I love you, my Rosalie. I've loved you always. I'll love you forever."
My hands were locked in his hair, unable to let go. I was drawn to him, a magnetic pull that was totally irresistible; to deny it would be to deny who I was. I had always been drawn to him, and he to me.
He was letting me take control, I felt it. He would wait until I made the first move; not out of uncertainty but instead born of consideration. I smiled a little, pulling him closer.
"I can't believe you found me," I told him, so close to his mouth that I could almost taste him.
"Rose...I'd find you anywhere."
I leaned in, pressing my mouth to his –nothing but a touch of the lips, really– it was enough to make the real world threaten to fall away.
"Wait," he whispered, his hands gently clasping at my wrists. "I don't want you to feel rushed into anything. Whatever you want, I'm happy to give."
I stared at him, slowly sliding my hands from his hair down until they were around his neck. "I don't know what to say," I admitted quietly.
"You don't have to say anything. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere, unless you want me to."
"No," I choked. "I don't want you to go, you know that. You can read that in my thoughts, Edward. I love you so much. I've just imagined this moment so much that part of me still thinks it might not be real."
Something inside of him broke a little, I felt it snap. He kissed me, harder than before while I just breathed him in, returned the kiss with everything I had to give. "I'm real," he moaned, pulling back just enough to speak. "This is real."
I stared at him, rendered speechless by the sheer immensity of everything. All I could do was kiss him; plant individual kisses on his lips, pulling back after each one wanting to see his eyes every time. My long since dormant heart felt like it was going to burst.
"But," he said in between kisses. "I want us...to do this...the right way...this time."
I drew back, breathing hard, "I do, too! I've worked hard to make myself into at least a somewhat better person."
He was running his hand through my hair with an edge of desperation but he seemed calm enough when he said, "I can tell, and I'm so proud of you. You know, when I saw you for the first time back in New Zealand...I didn't think you were real either, not at first." He wrapped his arms around my waist. "I know I made such a mess when everything came out. I think I lost my mind, you know? When you left, I could see what I'd done; how badly I'd screwed everything up. I thought...I'd never see you again, and I wouldn't have blamed you."
"That wasn't your fault –" I started to say, but he interrupted me, shaking his head.
"–No. I know what you're going to say, but please let me finish." He drew me closer so that our bodies were flush against one another, no space between us. "I want to be a good man, not only for myself but for you."
I couldn't breathe because he drew back enough to rise up on one knee.
"I've spent so long being anything but a good man, a decent person. I'm ready now, Rose. I'm ready to be the man you deserve. I'm ready to do whatever is necessary for us to be together. I've been ready for so long, but it's taken me until now to really realise it, my darling."
"Edward," I choked out, but had nothing to follow it with. I took my hands in his and I saw he was crying but smiling too.
Oh my God...I could feel it coming.
"Rosalie...I love you as you are now, strong and kind. I loved you as you were after we first met; spoiled and resentful. I love you when you're broken, when you're trying to do the right thing, when you fail, and most especially when you try again, because nothing ever stops you. Not..." his voice broke slightly but he continued, "time, love or even obligation. Nothing stops you, and I swear to any God that would listen to one such as us...nothing will stop me from trying to make you deliriously happy from this moment onward. I want to offer you everything within my reach and scope – the world and more, if it were possible – but really all I have to offer you, is me. I'm kneeling here, offering to you everything I have to give of myself."
He put his hand to my face, thumb tracing my cheekbone. "I don't have a ring. I have no idea how the future will unfold. I have no assurances that we won't face hardships together – in fact, I'm certain that we will. But I want to face them with you. I want to be by your side for all time. I ask if you would do me the honour of standing by mine? What I'm really asking you, Rosalie Hale...will you marry me?"
November 5th 1935
-Edward-
"What are we doing here?" I asked her.
She drew away from my face with a somewhat bemused expression. "I thought it was patently clear what we're doing here, Edward," she said, all prim and proper as though we hadn't been devouring one another up against a tree. "On what level do you require clarification?"
I was helpless but to smile internally. I did love it when she was cutting, though I spent a good portion of time denying that to myself.
"No, I mean, what are we doing here?"
"Ah," she said and pulled back enough that I felt the passion fade – for her at least. This was a question I often avoided; it usually resulted in her shutting me out and falling back on the same old excuses for not wanting to talk. "Well, I wasn't particularly looking forward to an existential debate, but if you're having trouble with the big questions, Edward – then by all means."
"You're well aware of what I'm asking," I replied, sounding bored. "What is happening between us?"
A brief flicker of badly controlled emotion flitted over her beautiful face until it faded back to normal. "You know what this is," she said quietly. "We're...you know."
"No, I don't. I'm struggling to comprehend what's between us."
She rolled her eyes. "God, Edward! There isn't only hand holding or marriage! There are mediums, variations, nuances –"
"Shades of gray?"
She wrinkled her nose. "I loathe that expression."
"And is this all we are, then? A variation? Something in-between?"
Rosalie sighed and pushed away from the tree I'd had her pressed up against. "I don't know what this is, aside from the obvious. It doesn't feel wrong."
I read a little of her mind, stunned as always at the sheer amount of contradictions there. "What of social convention?"
That was a mistake. Hurt, anger and a faint sense of betrayal at some line I had unknowingly crossed flashed across her face. "Well, I'm sorry you're stuck sullying your hands with someone so socially unconventional! Why not dash out and find yourself the first dull little housewife you can? Then you can marry her, all nice and proper before you attempt such deplorable acts of lust!"
I could feel her starting to pull away, starting to fall back into our normal patterns. I couldn't understand why we so often came here – to this point. But I continued on, glutton for punishment as much as she was. "Why is this something to feel ashamed about? I have asked you to marry me and you've refused! If you have no mind to marry me, then I am well within my rights to ask what we're doing!"
"We're...just together. Why must you need to label everything, Edward?"
"And that is enough for you?"
"Clearly it's not enough for you!"
It was escalating very quickly, as things always did between us. I moved a little closer in an attempt to calm her. If only she could read my mind...then she'd understand. "Rose," I whispered tenderly, trying to catch her eye. "You're everything to me. I wish I could prove that to you, but you won't let me."
Her thoughts were all in one vein now; tainted, broken, dirty, bad, wrong, infectious, rotten, mustn't taint him.I flinched away from them, unprepared for the sheer emotion behind them. It should've made me consider what I was about to say next, but it didn't, "I will. I will prove it to you." She turned her face away from me, speaking volumes. "No, I really will. I know you doubt me. You doubt most everything, save for the bad. I'll prove that you're everything to me, Rosalie Hale. Give me a chance."
Her skepticism was growing."A chance? To do what?"
"I've no idea, but I will do it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow...but one day, you'll look at me and there will be no doubt in your mind that You. Are. Everything."
She doubted me completely, I heard it in her mind and saw it expressed eloquently on her face. Yet she still smiled before kissing me. "It means the world to me that you would even try," she murmured, her lips brushing mine as she spoke. "We have nothing if not time, my darling. Perhaps there will come a day you'll be proved right, and I wrong."
I tangled my hand in her hair, kissing her hard. "Count on it."
15th November 2081
Unspecified Location in the Blue Ridge Mountains,
Virginia.
-Edward-
It didn't matter that I had been here before, in this exact position, I'd never been so nervous in my entire existence. It wasn't my first time on a bended knee, asking someone I loved to marry me...but somehow it felt like that. This time outstripped all else, reducing me to such nervousness and unwarranted insecurity that I felt like a teenager again.
As clichéd as it sounded, the world seemed to have come to a full and complete stop, halting in the middle of its rotation simply to watch our interaction with a bated breath. It had seen us in this position before, with unfavorable outcomes. And now, now, with everything seemingly lined up perfectly for us, it only waited for her to say something.
With aching uncertainty, I watched her process my question, which she had seen coming a minute ago – my mind was opened for her to see all. I watched her swallow slowly, the process making her throat do beautiful things. I tried to be respectful and not fall headfirst into her mind like I wanted to.
She took a deep breath to speak. I saw the memory as it came to her; of course she would remember that at such a moment. It was with a small smile, beautifully crafted for me alone, she said, "Of course I'll marry you, Edward."
It didn't quite feel real; I was having trouble feeling much of anything besides the swelling in my heart. Shakily, I asked, "You will?"
She bit her lip and smiled properly, her eyes lighting up impossibly bright. "Yes, I will."
Yes...
Throwing caution to the wind and all my doubt, I kissed her; helplessly drawn to her in every way. I basked in the glowing, unstoppable happiness radiating from us both. It was too much, too much. For the first time, we could indulge in real happiness. Not pleasure that came at the cost of someone else, not because we'd lied or cleverly carved out time through deception. But because we were together, truly free to be together with no restrictions and no obligations; together, as we were always meant to me. Together...the way we were made for one another.
She pulled back suddenly, and I saw that she was crying. "I love you so much," she gasped. "I love you more than words could ever convey."
"I love you, Rosalie," I said, blinking back tears of my own. "You are everything."
She leveled me with a searching gaze. For a brief moment I was afraid she would find something inside me that left her wanting. Something not enough; insufficient. Yet she said, "I know. I've known it for some time, but never trusted it until now. You are everything to me. You always have been, Edward."
Pulling me into her arms, our tight embrace slowly turned into a kiss. The chance just to hold each other after so long added fuel to our already heated embrace, evolving it into kissing filled with passion. I couldn't help but taste her, reveling in the ecstasy of just being together and being able to experience this guilt-free. The sensation was astounding.
The intensity grew to where I couldn't handle it anymore. I found myself unable to contain just how much I wanted her. And damn, I wanted her:body, mind, spirit, soul. The good, the bad and I wanted it forever.
For once, the stars were in perfect alignment to consider granting us our wish. For once, the Gods decided that we had suffered enough. For once...we were in the right place at the right time. For always I would hold on to her.
We had fallen to the ground, at some point. It was hard to keep track, though, I was trying because I wanted to burn the sensations into my brain.
"Rosalie," I gasped, looking up from where I had been mouthing at her neck, imprinting part of myself there. "We're in a church."
She muttered something unintelligible –more of a moan, really– as she looked up at me. Her eyes were dazed, pupils blown with lust and love and something else; undefinable as always. "What?" she tried again. "Oh, but it's mostly fallen down, though."
Oh God, why was this so difficult and why was I still so nervous? "Rose, marry me...here. Now."
The weight of her emotions hit me hard, making me all but dizzy. She was speechless for a moment before whispering, "Are you sure?"
More than words could ever express. "Yes. I mean, of course we'll do it properly as well. I just can't wait any longer, and I want it to feel real."
She understood what I meant in it wanting to feel real. It was clear in her mind, her expression, her eyes. We were the same soul in two bodies and she had always understood me when I needed her to the most. I managed to sit, and as I did, I pulled her upright with me, keeping her close. It felt essential that I keep her close –some part of her consistently touching me– as though I might lose her again if I didn't.
I smoothed away her hair from off her sublime face, trying to give myself time to calm down. She was shaking, tears in her eyes yet her smile was so genuine, so gorgeous. I struggled to recall when I had last been a source of genuine happiness for her. My Rosalie...my beautiful Rosalie. She reached up and shakily caught my hands in her, twining our fingers together. There was more than a little graceless desperation between us; emotions and need tearing at our ever decreasing rationality.
"I don't know how to start," she admitted.
I knew exactly what to say. They were words that seemed to have been inside me since the very moment I'd fallen in love with her. Words that sometimes appeared right on the tip of my tongue, playing through my mind almost like a song I couldn't get out of my head, yet left unspoken. Until now.
"Rosalie Lillian Hale," I began, all tremors absent from my voice, no nervous undertone anymore. I'd been waiting to say this to her for centuries. "I used to question why I was changed; why my mother wanted Carlisle to save me; why he had; why I'd been given this strange brand of immortality. I didn't choose it, couldn't reconcile it. I felt damned by it. Then on a spring night, Carlisle turned you as well." I swallowed, pausing a fraction before going on.
"I didn't love you right away; it wasn't love at first sight and the distinction is important yet there was something there. As time went on, we became more and more involved and I realised something. I'd stopped questioning everything because of you. I stopped asking why I'd been changed, why I was made immortal and what in turn I would eventually become? If I hadn't...I would never have met you. Our paths would never have crossed. I had to die in order to meet you, and it was the most fortunate thing that ever happened for me because you are the best thing that's ever happened to me. If we weren't immortal, we would have destroyed everything between us and never have had the chance to make it right, to try again. Every choice I've made has brought me here to you, and I can't bring myself to truly regret anything besides hurting our family and not telling you this when I first realised it."
I looked down, trying to savor the moment though it was difficult when every particle of my being was demanding to join with hers. "You and I are bound by more than love. We have always been bound by something unknowable, without adequate description and always without limitations. That which binds us now will bind us forever. I, Edward Cullen, am yours: body, mind and soul. Rosalie...I ask you to be mine, in turn."
Rose let out a small sob, blinking back tears. She gripped my fingers tightly, took a deep, and shakily spoke, "Edward Cullen, you and I have made a lot of mistakes. Between us, we've made enough to have ruined our lives several times over. We've hurt people and done terrible things, driven by what binds us, as you say. I thought we deserved to be apart forever, as penance for our actions. But what we have cannot be denied. There is no running from it, no hiding or pretending. I know that if I hadn't come back when I did, you'd still have found me. Or I would have found you. We will always be drawn to one another, destined for the same road, following the same stars. Ours is an imperfect love. We're not perfect people – far from it. But I can't live another moment trying to be perfect without you. I've broken myself trying to become a better person, and I know you have too. For the first time since we've known one another, I think we can be better...together. So we'll follow those same stars and face what comes our way. Ad astra per aspera, my love. I, Rosalie Hale, am yours: body, mind and soul...ad infinitum."
The utter desperation to meld myself into her was verging on dangerous. A swirling, rising crescendo of loveloveloveneedkisstouchloveinsidemeld. Wordless demands, helpless impulses and age-old instincts.
"I love you, my beautiful wife," I whispered, leaning into her and feeling her respond to it.
"And I you, my husband. For all time; for all that the limited nomenclature can encompass."
What little restraint I had left broke impressively fast at breakneck speed. I smashed my mouth to hers and was beyond gratified when she returned the kiss with equal intensity. She groaned wantonly and I swallowed each and every sound she made, desperate for more. One hand tangled in her long hair, the other running down her back and curving around her hip.
"Love you, Rose," I gasped against her skin, moving down to kiss down her neck. "Love you always." Though it felt like I was saying it a lot, I had so much time to make up for.
She tore my shirt open, her hands seeking out the flat planes of my chest. "Love you, my darling," she told me, nuzzling my hair as I pressed open mouthed kisses to her collarbone. The taste of her skin was exquisite. She tasted exquisite. More than I could possibly remember and I wanted all of her.
Raggedly, I said, "Tell me I'm yours." I longed to hear those words.
She pulled my face up to hers suddenly. "You are mine," she swore. "You have always been mine. And I am yours, in every way that matters and in all the ways that don't."
After that, we began undressing in earnest with a single-minded purpose. I needed to be with her, inside of her. I wanted to feel that bond set alight with the electric fire of our connection. I wanted it to blind me completely to where all I saw was her face, her body, her golden soul knitting together with mine.
For the first time since I'd lost my mortal life to influenza and awoken a difference species, I felt an incredible feeling wash over me like water, finally cleansing me from the sins of my past. I felt like I belonged. I felt contentment. Pure, undiluted happiness and the knowledge that it came at no cost to anyone. This was right, this was perfect, and for once, I was right where I was supposed to be. This was how it was meant to be. It had taken one hundred and sixty-three years, but there it was. We'd had to break ourselves time and time again to get to that moment in time.
And there in that church where I'd given myself to her so many years ago, we made love as husband and wife. The stars smiled down benignly, the world continued to spin, and we were as we should always have been. The two halves finding their way home, finding completion; becoming one.
-Epilogue-
One Year Later
Edward
I didn't like moving. That was my consensus after decades upon decades of endless moving. I really didn't like it and as time went on, I'd probably come to like it less and less. One single, individual part of what comprised the complex lives of vampires.
As I had begun to unpack another box – damn, how much stuff did we actually have – I heard a furious yell coming from upstairs, followed immediately by a crash. Forgetting my assignment, I started for the stairs of our new place, intent on finding my wife (a year later and I still never tired of calling her that). I didn't know what had upset her, but I had my suspicions.
To be perfectly fair to the new place, it was really nice. We'd left the house in Montbéliard two days ago to make a new, if temporary life in Genoa, Italy. And again, to be fair to Italy - it was tremendously beautiful. It was just that I'd become attached to France; the first place we'd lived together as husband and wife. The life we'd begun there would continue wherever we went; I knew that, but still...I was sad to leave it behind.
"Rose?" I called out, sensing she was in the one of the spare rooms of the townhouse. I couldn't help but take in the new smells and new feel of this place as I tried finding her. It would take a few weeks before it all started to feel anything like home.
"Everything OK?"
Entering the room, I found myself marginally impressed at how quickly she had assembled everything. Rosalie was good at this; making a little world out of various things, that without her, would just be mismatched things. The walls had been painted a muted ice-blue, with taupe curtains hanging over the window. She'd put up four shelves and had arranged many of our books on them. It was there that I found my beautiful wife among the remaining boxes that still littered the area, bent over one while fiercely rummaging through it.
If the situation wasn't so serious –and it was, I tried reminding myself– the sight of her would have been very distracting. She was wearing tight, faded jeans which showed off her lower back as she bent over. The shirt she wore was a white, floaty kind of material which also contributed to showing me more skin than she usually showed off. She was barefoot, sporting pretty pink toenails; and maybe it was some long since suppressed cave man instinct, but seeing her barefoot did strange things to me. Made me feel possessive, protective and hot under the skin. Damn. I'd become distracted, hadn't I?
Without her even answering me, I could tell how upset she was. It was painful for me to see her distressed. This was the first time anything had been seriously wrong since we'd been married. Walking further into the room, I placed my hand tentatively at the base of her back. She didn't react to my touch, only continued to furiously search through the box.
"Rose, love; what's wrong?"
The desire to simply search her mind –to find the answer– was strong, but I overcame it, deciding to seek it out naturally.
"Can't find the Renoir," she said tersely, throwing the box aside once she had got to the bottom without finding it. "La Loge. Have you seen it?" She began on another box with the same chaotic fury.
"No, love," I replied slowly. "Probably because the paintings are all downstairs in the conservatory."
She swore and stood up abruptly. "Oh. Right. Thanks."
"Uh, baby? What's happening?"
"I want to send it to Olivier." She sounded distracted as she kicked the box aside, none too gently, and finally turned to face me. "He always liked that one."
"Sure," I said, trying not to sound too placating. "We'll send it today."
"Good." Without trying, I could feel how fragmented her state of mind was. It was strange, because not half an hour ago she'd seemed fine. But my wife had always been a mercurial person at heart. Unpredictable to the core. "That's...that's good."
Well, screw this. All my well intentioned resolutions to avoid reading her mind for the answer, imploded impressively. I entered her mind like a stream into a lake; seamless and fluid. She was fraught with worry and a strange kind of fear, centered in what was happening today.
Of course. I should have known.
"We can cancel," I offered.
"I don't want to cancel. They've been asking to come see us for a long time and they're pretty much already here."
I could still feel her apprehension, despite her protestations. "We could postpone it, then. Whatever you need."
She let out another frustrated sigh. "It's not like that."
"OK, then what's it like?"
"I'm just...everything has been perfect." It required obvious effort to keep her voice from wavering. "You, me, this new life. Being married. It feels like a fresh start. It is a fresh start and seeing them again...I'm afraid of the past tainting what we have now." I took a breath to speak, but she held up her hand to forestall me. "No, look – I know what you're going to say. I do want to see them, I really do. It's just a big step, you know?"
There was more to it than that. I could feel it, see it swimming through her mind. But the other aspects included a general sense of sadness about Jasper. His absence was still difficult for Rosalie to bear and some days were worse than others. I missed him too, sometimes so much that it hurt to breathe. But he and Rosalie had been closer than he and I. Some days we would talk about it. However, I knew better than to try to force the issue unless she was open to it, which she currently wasn't.
I sighed and stepped forward. "Baby," I said in the most calming manner I could muster. "Look at me."
Grudgingly, she did so. I took the opportunity to catch her eye, extending a tendril of light and warmth to her mind. "It's a big deal. Seeing them and having them come here – it really is a big deal and I feel it, too. But it changes nothing between us. You and I are exactly where we're meant to be. That's together, right?"
She nodded just a fraction. "Right."
"Change is for the best," I murmured, taking her hand in mine. "I'm by your side, always and forever, my beautiful Mrs. Hale."
That got her to finally crack a smile at least. "My smooth talking Mr. Hale," she replied.
"I love how that sounds," I assured her, leaning in. "I never tire of hearing it."
The decision to change my last name and take hers had been a mutual one, but one we had considered at length. It was born of the need to start afresh without the Cullen name, but also as a way of honouring and keeping Jasper with us, always. Our eternal matchmaker and brother.
"Y'know, I think we still have a few minutes before they arrive," Rose whispered conspiratorially. "If you like, I can call you Mr. Hale over and over again." Her voice had taken on a low sultry quality and everything about her posture had changed; from defensive and edgy to fluid and welcoming.
I groaned, "Darling, is that really the first impression we want to give off? Them walking in on us like that?"
"But baby," she purred, moving to brush up against me, pushing me backwards until I softly hit the nearest wall. "You know it's been hours since you last had me. I'm starting to forget what you feel like."
Her hands were splayed against my thighs, slowly dragging their way upwards, fingertips trailing purposefully. She moved her mouth dangerously close to mine. I felt a little dizzy from the sudden sledgehammer of desire. Christ, but she drove me crazy. She bit her lip, teasing me with her proximity. I swallowed thickly. "You want me to help you remember?"
In a split second, I switched gears and spun us around none too gently. She laughed, always reveling in the unexpected and playful. I let out a low, soft growl while pulling her shirt to one side so I could bite at her shoulder; nothing that would leave a mark, of course. "Can you feel that?"
She threw her head back, one hand dipping into the back of my jeans. "No," she lied teasingly.
I moved my mouth to her neck and bit there, stronger than I'd initially intended to. She drove me beyond distraction. "Now?"
Though it was a little strangled, she replied, "No."
I dropped to my knees in front of her, yanking her forward by her jeans, opening the top button. I bit at the skin around her belly button, swirling my tongue around the delicious flesh. "Not even that?" I asked coyly, raising my eyes to her slowly.
She shook her head, a wicked smile painting her lips.
I pulled her jeans open all the way and hooked my thumbs in them, dragging them down...just as I sensed the enormously ill timed arrival of the Cullens.
"Oh, fuck!" I swore, laughing as I sat back on my knees.
"Almost," she giggled, doing up her jeans hastily. "Put a lid on it, baby. To be continued."
Though I wanted to tell everyone to leave and return much later, I knew we needed to do this. Valiantly, I tried to calm down, knowing the state I was in was not the way I wanted to greet my daughter. Rosalie went downstairs first, and after a few moments spent collecting myself I followed.
This was it. After months and months of Nessie asking (insisting) that we meet up, we'd finally agreed. Now they were all coming here to us in Genoa, Italy. It really had been sad to leave France, the first place we'd lived together as husband and wife. But necessity had to prevail so we'd moved as part of Rosalie's cycle for avoiding suspicion. Moving would always be difficult. Still, Roman didn't mind it as much. So much so in fact that he had decided to move to Italy as well, to my great amusement. He had moved one town over, making Rosalie overjoyed, and therefore, me as well.
My brave wife was waiting by the open door, all smiles and warm welcomes. Unsurprisingly, Nessie was first to greet her. The sight of she and Rose hugging...it made me impossibly happy. Nessie was mine and Bella's child, I knew that first and foremost; but still, seeing them together – it was a little bit magical. A small, selfish glimpse of what might have been in a parallel universe, perhaps.
"Hey honey," Rose was saying. "Oh, it's good to see you!"
After Nessie, it was an influx of hugs and greetings: Jacob, Esme, Carlisle, Alice, Emmett and Jemima had all made the trip to visit us. Bella had stayed behind, assuring Edward that while she bore us no real ill will, the trip would be difficult for her and that she still needed time. The last to enter was Jacob. I tensed just a fraction while Alice was still embracing me.
He looked incredibly uncomfortable, but I was surprised to see him take a deep breath as he leaned in to give Rose a very brief –but very real– kiss on the cheek.
"Nice to see you, Rosalie," he said stiffly, but with a touch of genuine feeling behind it. I felt her astonishment yet she contained it beautifully.
"Lovely to see you too, Jake," Rose said, gesturing for him to come inside.
"This place," Alice said. "Is beautiful!"
"The house or the town?" I asked.
"Both," she replied, avidly taking in the details of our home. "How is it, living in the sun?"
"Amazing," I replied honestly. "I don't even really feel the makeup anymore."
"See?" Jemima said, nudging Emmett sharply in the ribs.
"Ow! I didn't say I wouldn't wear the makeup! I said that I didn't necessarily want to wear makeup every day!" he yelped indignantly. "Jeeze!"
"I miss the sun," Jemima explained wistfully.
"We've got tons of the makeup," Rosalie told her. "Make sure you take some of it with you. Try it out."
Emmett groaned, but Jemima looked happy. "Thank you, Rosalie. I can't wait to go to Bondi beach."
At that, Emmett cracked a grin. "She likes sharks, too." It was wonderful to see Emmett happy and so settled with Jemima. Obviously, I had selfish reasons to want to see Emmett happy with another woman. Rosalie would never really forgive herself for her part of what we did to him. She'd come as close to reconciling it as she could for the time being, but I knew she would never completely let go of the guilt. So seeing Emmett happy with Jemima - a natural, easy happiness - made it easier for Rose. I wanted that for her so much. But I still wanted him to be happy, just because. I would forever think of him as my brother. That part of me that remembered what it felt like to have Emmett McCarty as a brother, longed to see him happy and in love. He deserved it.
"So, shall we do the grand tour?" I asked after a moment's introspection.
"Sounds good," said Nessie excitedly. "We've got gifts, but they're in the truck outside."
"Gifts?" Rosalie echoed.
"Truck?" I squeaked. "Why would there be a truck of gifts?"
Esme laughed. "One of them is a little large."
"Don't panic," Carlisle said with a wink. "We didn't buy you a boat or anything."
"Well that's good," I said with an awkward chuckle. "Because Roman already did that."
"Bought you a boat?" Nessie asked. "Wow. That trumps my plant."
Rosalie smiled. "Don't be silly. I love plants. We don't have any plants, do we?"
"Nope," I replied obediently. "Not a single plant."
"Is Roman here? I'm dying to meet him!" Nessie went on. "We still laugh about the legendary phone call."
"He'll drop by later, I think," Rosalie said. "Shall we start the grand tour?"
"Actually," Emmett said suddenly. "Could I give you your gift? In private?"
The air crackled with uncertainty and shock for a moment before everyone recovered with ease and grace. "You go on, darling," I reassured with a smile. "I'll do the tour."
The tour, as it turned out, was fairly short and mostly comprised of me explaining why we hadn't unpacked this or that yet.
The converted townhouse spoke for itself mostly; the rooms were filled with golden sunlight which seemed to please and fascinate them, given that they were still living in a very rainy part of New Zealand.
Truth be told, I was distracted. Mentally observing the exchange between Rosalie and Emmett was draining most of my attention.
After taking her outside to the U-Haul they'd hired, Emmett spoke to her for a minute.
"You look good," he told her. "Much better than the last time I saw you."
Smiling ruefully, she answered, "Yeah, not my best moment."
"This is still pretty awkward," he admitted quietly.
"I know. I'm sorry."
"That's OK. I want this to get less awkward and it'll only do that the more we see one another."
"I'd like that, too."
He glanced down at her hand, studying her wedding ring. "You're happy?"
"Yes. Incredibly."
"Good. I'm glad. You and he...well, you deserve that; despite everything. I still love you both and one day, maybe we could even be good friends."
She just nodded at that, a lump in her throat.
"Well." He smiled briskly. "With that said, I want to give you your gift."
"Emmett, you didn't have to –"
"And I didn't," he countered smoothly, "didn't spend a penny." He opened the back of the truck, revealing what he'd brought us.
"Oh," Rose gasped. "I never thought I'd see it again."
The desk. Her desk. "All your stuff, when you left...I put in storage. I'll admit, I wanted to destroy it, but something kept me from going that far. So I locked it all up. There's a lot more in Washington. This," he said, drawing out something small from his back pocket. "Is the key. But I knew you'd want this." He gestured to her desk. "I remember how we had to lug this thing everywhere. It mattered to you, despite the reasons, and it's only right you should have it."
"Em..." My wife's voice was a little thick. "Thank you so much."
I felt how she wanted to say a million things to him. Tell him how much she was sorry. How she hated that things were awkward between them and that she knew she had caused it. That she was glad he'd found love again. That he would always mean a lot to her. That she missed him. That she wished she could go back and undo what we'd done.
But she didn't say any of that. He was here, he had come to see us and that was more than we could have hoped for.
He nodded and smiled. "You want me to bring it in?"
"If you wouldn't mind." Carefully reaching inside and picking it up easily with one hand, together they returned to the house – just in time for the tour to finish.
"Hey," I greeted cheerfully. "Is that what I think it is?"
Rosalie caught my eye and gave a smile, an eloquently meaningful smile. The exchange with Emmett had meant a lot to her. I repressed the minor pang of jealousy; I would have given anything to have even a fraction of the relationship with Emmett we'd once shared.
"Well, if we're doing gifts!" Nessie said as she dashed out to the truck.
Emmett put the desk down in a nearby corner. His eyes met mine for a moment, and for that small period of time, I felt some flicker of understanding. In bringing us the desk, showing that he had kept it safe when he could have smashed it to kindling...it meant something. Something small yet significant.
The moment between us passed. When it was over, I went to my wife's side. She was looking down at the flat, wooden plane with a quiet kind of fascination. She gently traced her fingertips over the names and words carved there.
I reached out to her with my mind.
'Are you all right?'
'Yes,' she replied softly. 'Just strange is all. So many names.'
I smiled at my beautiful wife, so proud to be her husband. It had been a long road indeed. So many chapters of our lives to bring us to this precise moment: here and now. Sure, it was a slightly awkward moment filled with uncertainty but that was part of the beauty of it.
Unlike the chapters of our lives carved into Rosalie's desk, our future was unwritten, unset...but it was to be a future we would share together. For once, that was more than enough.
Fin
Author's Note:
And that, my darlings, is that! I can't believe that we're at the end (the real end, this time) of this story. I'm a little heartbroken but overwhelmingly pleased to have seen this through to the end. I sincerely hope this has been as enjoyable for you reading as it has been for me writing. I love these characters and the terrible things I make them do, so a happy ending felt natural and inevitable to me. I know this won't be to everyone's tastes, but I genuinely hope there was something there to make you smile and feel a sense of justice.
As some of you know, I'm working on converting this into a kind of original series of books with the intent to publish. If and when this ever happens, I'll be posting news about it on my livejournal (because I'm the last person who has one) and from there any links to any more updated forms of communication technology.
There are some very special people to thank. The first has been instrumental in the editing, co-writing and general motivation that helped this story become what it is and even more importantly, helped it get finished!
SunnyOrange is my absolute rock. She is the still point of the creative/constructive literary world and has pushed this chapter into greatness and general completion. If you've read this and are now bereft of your Rosalie/Edward fanfic, she writes her own stunning stuff so check her out.
To those who I LOVE talking to, whose reviews and PM's keep me going.
Twiolic you are a constant, unending source of support and often inspire me to write when otherwise I would have sat and done nothing all night. Thank you so much, I hope the wait was worth it.
Sexysiren1981 you've been around forever, stuck with me and I adore your comments. Thank you!
AquarianGirl how could I ever forget you? Thank you so much for sticking with me and this story, I hope it was worth the wait darling.
MademoiselleGF you have always been my staunchest supporter. You defend me to crazy people, you make me smile, you've made writing this a pleasure because I know you're going to enjoy it. Thank you.
Samolly thanks for all your thoughts and kindness, I hope it was worth the wait!
Demons4eva thank you so much for your support and awesome reviews. I always love reading what you thought.
Thedivinesecretsof a million miles of thanks to you because that review you left me, it made such a difference. I was really in a bad place then and you actually helped me get through it. I really hope you enjoyed it darling.
OK, there are SO many others whose reviews, kindness and support have literally pushed me to continue and made me want to give all I can to this story. Thank you all so much...
Kokobun
Melanie
Staceleo
sujari6
EchoingWinter
Dawsonnova95
LRK860
SkittleYum
DNTK
angie671
lou87
Heartsn'minds
KJOHN
xtinkxproductionsx
Melania
Soobliette
Nina
Blk3360
RR
MQ1
Murphie
Reddragon13x
Legolasslove
For da love of Roseward
Chaerinnie
LizziePaige
Katherine
Alchemie
addy9ring
There were also a ton of guests and so thank you to each one of you.
You guys, you're part of this story and you're part of me. You can't imagine what it means to me so see a PM or a review from you. Some of you have been with me since this thing started (August, 2008!) and have stuck around for six bloody years to see this come to an end. Some of you are new and that's amazing that people even still want to read Rosalie/Edward, let alone my stuff. You are all amazing and I love you.
I don't really know what else to say. It's been such a long road and now here we are. Thank you all for coming with me and sticking through the madness and agony. I hope it was worth it and that I didn't let anyone down.
Love always,
Bex.
P.S - For old time's sake, review?
