Hello! The third chapter is now up! Sorry it took a little longer than anticipated—I picked at it daily, but the middle part was hard for me to flesh out. I'm not completely satisfied, but I feel that if I do any more work on it I'll drive myself nuts!

Anyway, I would like to thank you all for your reviews, they make me so happy! And a big hug to all you alerts/favorites out there, too! I love them all! :D

So, I hope you like the chapter. But I was thinking about my pacing of the story, and I think, what with all of my little plotty-things (that is a technical term, yes.) that Bella and Jasper's relationship will probably be slow to develop. In fact, the idea of putting them at odds with each other in the beginning is bouncing around my head. I suppose we'll see!

Oh, and I'd also like to apologize for any spelling errors. I know it was hard to write because I was shivering every time I get on the computer. This room is the coldest in the house! BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Sorry, had to get that out of my system. Anyway, bon appétit!

It took me a moment to realize that Jasper was here, had been here just like he said he would be, and that I was overreacting. Once I came to terms, I felt the blush beginning to spread as I imagined just how pathetic I must have looked. But a strange humor filled me with the feeling of wanting to laugh as I realized that it didn't matter. He'd been watching me anyway, so he no doubt knew that was going to happen.

I bit my lip and calmed myself as I struggled to my feet. Jasper was at my side before I realized that he moved, his fingers splayed in the air about a foot above me. He looked about to help me, but must have decided against it, and he straightened as I dusted off my knees with my good hand. As I stood up fully, I realized that he was only about a foot away, and immediately the memory of when he'd last been that close to me came to mind—I could remember seeing the determination in his eyes, the animalistic need to quench a thirst I'd instilled in him. I felt scared for a moment, remembering his face as it had been.

I tried to move away from him and wobbled as I bumped the couch. Again, his hand came out as if to help me, and again he thought better of it and simply went to the chair across the room from the couch I intended to sit at, putting a good distance between us. This made me wonder if my blood was hurting him. I tried to analyze the color of his eyes as I settled into the couch, and they were a light citrine shade, which made me feel better about his control, but not about his comfort.

"Are you okay? Around me, I mean?" I asked quietly, knowing full well that he would hear me. "I could go, if you really don't…"

"I'm fine, Bella. I promise I won't hurt you. You really don't smell nearly as appetizing as you usually do." I wasn't sure how to take his words, if that was a compliment or a reassurance or if he was nicely telling me that I stunk. I'd just taken a shower, so I hoped that wasn't it.

He elaborated. "They had to, you know, give you blood from a donor. So now there are many different scents about you, and the mix is rather…unappealing."

I licked my lips, still not quite sure what he meant, but taking it as a reassurance. "I guess that's good, then."

"Bella, I'm sorry." His words came so out of the blue that I wasn't quite sure what he was talking about. I tried to think back to what he would be sorry for, but nothing came to mind. Our previous conversation probably required me to apologize, for…stinking.

"What's there to be sorry for?" I asked him as lightly as I could.

He took a shallow breath, looking away from me and to the floor. He stilled for a moment, and I waited for him to start speaking. "I…in the hospital, when you felt that devastation…what did that come from?"

I shifted uncomfortably, nervously gripping onto my bad arm and wincing as it stung. Biting my lip, I debated telling him and reopening the wound. At first, I was relatively sure I was going to just change the subject and avoid a breakdown now, but as I remembered that I was here because he invited me over and offered answers to my questions, the least I could do was answer his in return. I sighed, trying to think just how to word it so as to answer him with as little detail as possible.

"I felt that for you guys…after you left." I tried to make my tone clear that I didn't really want to talk about this, not right now, and he seemed to realize that. He nodded, and I wondered if he wanted to hear more or if he dismissed me as pathetic and wanted to move on from my whining. I found that I definitely didn't want either, and simply left my questions alone in favor of the one that had been killing me all this time.

"Jasper, you said you were watching me? Why?"

He didn't answer as the nearby grandfather clock ticked on and on. I waited as minutes melted into each other, and I tried to remain patient. It proved hard, and the relief I felt as he began to speak was immense.

"We…the family, excluding Edward…" he continued talking, and I had to struggle to keep up with his words after he'd thrown me such a large hurdle, "…we set up a…a schedule. Now, Bella, I know we promised to stay away, and I'm sorry we didn't, but…well, we were worried about you, and your safety." I waited for him to go on, but he stopped there.

"Schedules?" I urged. While I wasn't sure if I quite wanted to know what was going on with the Cullen family—if they were happy without me—I still needed to understand why Jasper was watching me.

Again, he had that bitter look on his face, and I wondered just what could be so bad. "I know it's weird, and I know we went against your wishes, but the whole family worried about you. So we went behind Edward's back and set up times—about a month or so, for each person to monitor you. We wouldn't stalk you or anything, just…just make sure you're okay."

Before I could fully process all of this, he gave me a wry smile and locked gazes with me; I found myself enraptured in his topaz eyes, so like his brother's. A dull ache started in my chest, but I pushed it away before it could grow. "It figures that my first day here you go and nearly kill yourself."

The eye-lock broke as his smile faded and he looked away. He reminded me of a child waiting to be chastised as he stared at the floor. I, too, looked away from him in favor of the floorboards. I watched the dull grey light bounce around as tree limbs moved in the wind.

He was watching me. I'd known that. I'd wanted to understand why that was. But now, now I had more questions to be answered than actual answers. I tried to think of something to say, something that could just fill the empty space long enough for me to think. Finally, something came to mind, and without even thinking about the consequences, I spoke. "Yeah, near-death has a fascination with me."

He visibly winced, and I internally chastised myself for being so careless. I should have known that if Jasper was in any way like his brother then he would dwell on what had happened. I could only figure that was what he was thinking about now.

"Jasper, I'm sorry. I should go, this was a bad idea," I hated to say his idea was bad, and I knew it was partially my fault for wanting all the answers, but it was for the best if I left. I was making him uncomfortable with my blood and bringing up sore subjects. Not only this, but I needed time to think what he'd said to me through. Maybe if I got my head straight and came back, it would all be easier.

"No, Bella, please don't go. I have a lot to say." His face was pained, but his voice was pleading. I debated it for a moment, but I decided not to go to the trouble of getting up when he still needed to speak. I may not have been comfortable in this situation, but at least he could be.

"Okay, I'll stay," I reassured him, settling back into the seat.

He took another small, wary breath, and I watched as he seemed to be thinking hard about something. I wished I could see what he was thinking, so I could simply tell him whatever he wanted to hear from me and get out of this predicament. I knew that was a selfish thought, but I definitely didn't want to cry in front of him, and I was so frustrated with not understanding my current situation that I was so close to doing so.

"I'm really sorry, Bella." Again, he apologized, and I resolved myself to be more assertive in finding out what he was apologizing for.

"Why are you sorry, Jasper?" My voice broke a few times with the emotions I was trying to quell. I was just so angry. I felt like someone had fed me small pieces of a puzzle, only for me to find that none of them wanted to fit. Where was the connection? He'd said they'd gone against my wishes, that it was stupid for them to watch me. Why? Why had he said that?

Then there was the matter of him being here in the first place. It didn't add up with what had been said in the forest.

I'd taken that walk with Edward. With my Edward. The one with the crooked smiles and love for music, with the warmth inside his cold body that made me feel dizzy and tingly all over. But I'd had that heart-breaking conversation with a stranger wearing a mask of Edward's face. He'd been so calm and collected about breaking all ties with me, when I'd thought I was 'his life now'. And the genuine, calculating sincerity in his eyes, his voice, and his words made me too aware that the real Edward was completely foreign to me. That I'd deluded myself with fantasies.

That was when my perfect life and future began to fall—when pieces of the puzzle began to go missing. Next came when Jake left me hanging; said stoic, vague things that were supposed to explain his sudden abandonment of me, but made no sense. My sun had burnt out and I was left alone again, in the dark as ever.

Now, after multiple reassurances that the Cullen family was basically dead to me—and that I was dead to them—Jasper comes along with too much confusing information. Maybe it was my recent near-breakdown, but I just couldn't fully understand anything at this point, and my mounting anger with my inability and weakness steadily grew.

After all, if I hadn't been so weak, none of this would have happened. Not a single terrible thing would have happened—I would be happy.

But no.

My bitter thoughts fizzled out until they were just an angry, self-loathing buzz in the back of my mind. I realized much too late that Jasper was speaking. I back-tracked, analyzing all of his words.

"This was all my fault, Bella. If you felt what you did because we left…Bella, I'm so sorry. That was me, that was what I did to you, and I realize that now. I'd been angry at myself for being weak, but I didn't realize just what kind of effect that had on you. I'm so sorry."

He wasn't making sense. It took me a few moments to go through his words again, and when I finally managed to make either end of it, it only left me more confused. I wondered then if Alice had told him that I forgave him. When I'd told her, I knew in my heart that it was true, and that she would relay my message and—hopefully—convince him of my sincerity. But had he merely chalked it up to her trying to make him feel better?

And I hated to think it, but what if Alice simply hadn't told him? Mere months ago I would have sworn from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes that she would. But now, I began to wonder just how reliable my 'best friend forever' really was. After all, she would be able to look into the future and find just the right words to say to him, surely. So as I thought about it and re-thought about it, I was beginning to lean more toward the latter—that she hadn't.

This scared me, realizing that my faith in Alice had wavered enough to instill such doubt in me. My strong, unyielding feelings had been one of the few things that kept my tenuous hold on the Cullens, and finding that my feelings for them were weaker than I thought was scary. I wanted to cry with the loss of that small connection, but thought better of it.

I continued to mull it over, trying to convince myself that I was being silly. After all, why wouldn't Alice tell Jasper I forgave him, or put her heart into it? As I thought, I couldn't see a reason not to, and I was beginning to convince myself that she tried, and merely didn't succeed.

But then a thought struck me. What if Alice had been angry with me? It made sense. She was so angry with me because I had tested her mate's control, made him nearly do something he didn't want to. I'd crossed the line, and I was positive that in vampire terms, the bond of a mate overrode that of a small interest in a human through and through. So she was so livid that she didn't even waste her breath with my stupid forgiveness. It was so obvious that she must have felt that if anything, I should be on my knees begging forgiveness from Jasper, not offering it to him!

It made so much sense, and while I agreed whole-heartedly and more so that I should be apologizing to Jasper, and not the other way around, this realization brought more doubts to the surface. This was the most logical explanation—the whole family had realized that I was more trouble than I was worth, including Alice. All this time I'd been remembering her as my friend, trying to forget that our dynamic had most likely shifted to the opposite end of the spectrum. But now it was being shoved in my face, and it made so much sense that it hurt. This small part of the puzzle came together.

Jasper felt guilty, God knows why. Alice tried to convince him not to be, but never relayed my message because that was where our friendship ended. When I impeded on the happiness of her mate, all bets were off. So she must have hated me now, which made so much sense in a question that had been nagging at me since that day in the woods. Every night I would wonder how, of all of them, Alice could leave without a goodbye.

These thoughts hurt, and were opening the wound that I had been hoping to keep to myself in this conversation. While I had come in here sure that Jasper already knew about my pain, I still hadn't wanted to let it be out in the open for him to analyze and confront me with. But I should have known that getting my answers would lead to more pain—I should have prepared.

I realized with faint dry humor that it was too late now, and looked up at him. He was watching me, and I couldn't quite read the look in his eye, which was frustrating. I was definitely not an empath by any stretch, but I'd always been relatively adept at reading people. But Jasper seemed to have the perfect poker face, and I couldn't stop myself from wondering if he was internally laughing at just how pathetic I was. The thought was unsettling, and even more so because it was not impossible. He must have hated me just as all the other Cullens did.

But if he felt the same way, then why would he be apologizing? I decided to ask him just this, after chastising him for being sorry in the first place.

"Jasper, you shouldn't be sorry for something you had no control over. I forgave you the moment it happened." I paused, but quickly rushed on before he interrupted, which he seemed to be contemplating, "And anyway, why are you apologizing? Why don't you hate me?"

He seemed stunned by my words. He verbalized just this, "Of all the things you could say, I definitely did not expect that. Hate you? Why ever would I do that?"

I tried to put my thoughts in just the correct order, but his confusion coupling with my own was making it just that much harder. It took me whole seconds to begin my explanation. "I…" and I didn't get too far.

I cleared my dry throat, hoping to buy myself time. But the only thought I could focus on with complete clarity was, Why wouldn't you hate me?

"I just…I tested your control. I nearly forced you to do something that you would regret just because I made a stupid mistake. I…" He interrupted me, his voice laced incredulity.

"Bella. A stupid mistake? You cut your finger. That's a completely human thing to do. I couldn't hate you for acting as you should. You should hate me." He shook his head, the decidedly more open look on his face betraying only shock.

It was clear to me that he was not about to let this go, and if there was one thing I couldn't stand, it was brooding. Even with Edward, his bouts of moodiness had left me less than satisfied with him. And I had so much more to say, so much ground to cover, that the fact that Jasper had interrupted simply to continue his self-loathing rant was slightly insulting.

I immediately masked these feelings, not wanting to offend him. "Jasper, the fact that you can say that is amazing. If you can't hate me for doing as I should, then how could I hate you for doing the same?" The question was more a rhetorical one, but I could tell by the furrow of his brow he was searching his mind for an answer. I continued before he could create one. "And so if you would please forgive me, I'll forgive you, and then we can move on."

The look on his face assured me that I was getting nowhere with that train of thought. I supposed that for whatever reason, my forgiving him was out of the question. In any case, I knew I wasn't worthy of his forgiveness anyway, after causing his family and his mate such grief. In that moment, I felt worse than the plague.

"Anyway," I continued, trying to remember where I was going before he had interrupted while simultaneously shaking off my depression. My pause grew as I remembered my next question, apprehension for what he would surely say mounting. Even so, I pressed forward, determined that I couldn't get much worse emotionally than I already was, "Doesn't the whole family hate me?" My voice was softer and not nearly as strong as I'd been hoping—in fact, it was little more than a squeak. I tried to find comfort in the fact that it was loud and clear to Jasper, so may not have sounded completely pathetic.

Again, he looked shocked, and I could barely detect a hint of irritation in his eyes. I hoped I was misreading that, because I really didn't want him angry with me. I'd caused enough trouble, and I was worried that I was more than disposable to the Cullens in light of the situation. "Bella, why in the world would you think we hate you? Everyone loved you. And they do."

Now this, of every backwards and upside-down thing he had tried to tell me, made no sense whatsoever. Before beginning to pick his words apart, as I tended to do, I tried to come up with a quick rebuttal. My thoughts, oddly enough, turned to Rosalie.

"Rosalie hated my guts."

He looked at me oddly, as if he wasn't expecting that response either. "Full of surprises," he commented, shaking his head, confirming what I'd been thinking. Briefly, I entertained the idea that vampires made lists of possible responses to every question they ever asked, and I just happened to pick the only one that they'd skipped. He was speaking before I could think anything else, which was probably for the better. "Save for Rosalie, then. But she didn't hate you, either—not exactly. Rosalie is probably one of the most complex vampires I've ever met—she has a lot of demons and anger. You were just…an outlet. Don't get me wrong, she had reasons for disliking you—though not completely reasonable, they weren't completely unfounded, either—but her negativity toward you had less to do with you than you may think."

It took me a moment to absorb all this, and it was actually slightly comforting to think of perfect Rosalie as emotional. She had fears and thoughts just as anyone, and while I felt horrible for just realizing this, I felt better.

But the relief was brief, and I went back to contemplating how to argue the point that they must have hated me. Finding no way around it, I confessed my fears. Every word seemed to be a knife.

"I broke up your family. I mean, I know it wasn't permanent, but…I put a rift there. I made you guys have to fight against each other…that was so unforgivable…and after everything I've already done to you…" I trailed off, the first traitorous tear slipping down my cheek. I cursed it internally, hating this vulnerability I'd showed. "That's when you must have realized that it was in your best interests to drop me…just like…" I didn't dare. I didn't dare finish that thought, though it brought an equally large wave of pain as if I had.

His mouth was slightly ajar. "Bella," he began, and his tone was equal to a parent chastising a child. "Didn't you listen to a single thing I said?"

Did he know that I had actually drifted off a few times, too engulfed in my own thoughts and feelings to pay him the respect he deserved? I nodded my head cautiously.

"Then why would we watch out for your safety if we hated you?"

His question made sense, but I found that I was tired. Tired of questions. And though, alone, his question was completely logical, his implications were far from it. Now that I'd connected the dots, it was impossible for me to think any different. The Cullens simply had to hate me. That was the missing piece to this portion of the puzzle—nothing else fit.

I shook my head slowly. "No. You're wrong," was all I could muster myself to say. The wound was reopening. Too quickly.

Immediately, I felt at peace. The pain ebbed, and his eyes were softer than I'd ever seen them, comforting me. "Now Bella, why would I lie to you?"

"Because you have to hate me," I replied, still shaking my head. He wasn't making sense! "If you don't…" I didn't want to put into words my true thoughts. Because if he didn't hate me—if the rest of the family didn't hate me—then I would have hope. And I was trying to convince myself that I learned my lesson before.

Hope kills.

You know, I hate ending it there, but the chapter was growing rapidly and I needed to insert an end. The next will pick up on this conversation, because it's not completely done yet. Well, maybe. Who knows?

Also, I hope you understood everything. I tried to make Bella's thoughts a little skippy because, you know, she's not perfectly composed. With her fragile emotional state, she surely isn't going to take Jasper's arrival too lightly, you know?

Lastly, I would like to remind you that the next update will be soon! And…reviews are nice. Very nice indeed! ;)