Let Go
Chapter 23
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Gone
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Sometimes, when you think your life has met its lowest point ever possible, it ends up surprising you. It takes you off guard when you are at your absolute lowest. It brings you to a whole new level of pain. It breaks you so much that you may never be able to regain what you lost.
But you can always regain what you lose. It can always come back. Somehow. Unless that thing you lose is dead.
My mom was.
The red and blue lights shone straight into my eyes as I pulled my truck to a slow stop in the driveway. People were starting to emerge from their houses to inspect what happened. I didn't dare look around for Jasper. I just sat in the cab of my truck, trying as hard as I could to calm myself. I took deep breaths and gripped the steering wheel tight, expecting the worst.
Eventually I pulled myself together enough to walk into the house and not collapse into a sobbing heap. My emotions had been stretched to their brink. I wasn't ready to be hurt again, and all I wanted to do was reverse out of that driveway and go back to the beach; back to home.
Slowly I turned that cold door knob and let the door creak open. I took a deep breath before stepping inside. I kept my head bowed as I entered the cold room. I knew there were four bodies occupying it. Two of them I recognised.
"Bella! Where the hell have you been?"
That was Charlie. He was angry, but not as angry as usual. It had an undertone of something I couldn't pick out; suppression, maybe.
"Um... I... I..." I stumbled over my words as I strained to meet the eyes of the people staring back at me.
When I did meet them I was met by two familiar sets. One was Dad, and in his arms was Renesmee. That was weird, and immediately I was put on edge. He never held her. He didn't even hold her when she was born.
The next sets of eyes were filled with sadness and apology. They were the cops.
"It's okay, Mr Swan," a man's voice said. "Please, Bella, take a seat." His tone was kind – cautious, even – as he indicated to the chair next to my father.
I obliged and ducked my head, taking the seat next to Charlie. Renesmee then crawled into my arms and sobbed into my shirt. I froze, startled by whatever had caused this reaction. I brushed the back of her head as I turned towards the police. There was one man and one woman.
The woman had a kind face and soft eyes. She took a seat opposite me and took my hand, watching me with concern. I wanted to pull away from the touch that burned the gaping hole in my chest, but I didn't. It was a kind gesture and I would accept it, even though it put me on edge. The worst of possibilities ran through my mind.
"Bella," she said, her soft hazel eyes watching me. "I am so sorry to have to tell you this..." she was quiet for a few seconds and glanced at her partner. My father sighed, folding is arms over his chest. The female took a deep breath, "but your mother was killed in a car accident this afternoon."
Renesmee flinched at the words. I felt like someone had just hit my lung with a sledge hammer.
I could see the police officer's lips moving, but no sound came out. I was dizzy. My head spun. I leant it into my hand, trying to make some sense of it all – control myself, at least – and clutched at my stomach which was suddenly churning. Without a thought, tears started to fall. She squeezed my hand and continued talking. I didn't feel anything. I didn't hear anything. Charlie was stale and motionless next to me. Renesmee's tears dampened my shirt. I couldn't breathe. I only caught a few of her words. The rest didn't mean anything.
"... Renesmee... drunk... lost control... tree..."
I got the jist of it all. I didn't need to know all the details. She was going to pick up Renesmee. She was drunk. She crashed. She died. That's the end. That's all. That's it. She was gone, and there was nothing that I could do about it. Just like that. Gone. Forever.
The cops kept talking. I kept my head buried in my hand and hugged Renesmee tight. My body was shuddering. People talked around me. The lady kept squeezing my hand. I wanted desperately to pull away. I couldn't. I wanted to make myself numb. I needed to not feel anything anymore. Sadly, all my powers with this were gone. I had to feel it. My mom was dead. It wasn't just something I could ignore.
Gone. Forever.
Eventually the cops left. My Dad got up, thanked them and then turned back to me.
"I'm going to start calling people," he said coldly. I didn't respond. I didn't even flinch. He didn't care. "Look after Renesmee."
Still, I didn't flinch. Renesmee didn't make a sound. I felt cold; exhausted; lifeless. I felt like every ounce of spirit had been kicked out of me.
Gone. Forever.
Mom had been clean. For so long it had all been good. She was trying as hard as she could. She was trying to be there for Renesmee and me. But now...now she was dead. She was drunk. She snapped again. She couldn't take it. I don't know what events surrounded the incident, even now, but I do know that she died. She's gone. Forever.
I didn't know what I was meant to do anymore. I was left with my Dad, and I knew he didn't want me. I had to look after my two year old sister, but I could barely look after myself. The one person I thought I could always rely on wasn't what I thought.
Gone. Forever.
Eventually, when Renesmee's heavy breathing told me she had fallen asleep I carried her to her room and put her to bed. I didn't let my emotions break through. I didn't let myself think. It felt like I had flicked on the autopilot function. I trudged off to my own room, dragging my feet as I went.
I didn't feel anything as I dragged myself onto my bed and hugged my knees to my chest. I could hear Charlie calling everyone we knew and making arrangements. I had to drown it out. I lay there for a long time, eventually reaching a level of numbness I had only been dreaming of in the last few days.
Gone. Forever.
She was gone. Forever.
I felt empty.
What felt like hours later I heard one sound. It was a scratching on the window. I tried to forget it, but when I heard the window creak open, I knew I couldn't. My eyes shot up to my curtain as the wind blew it softly. I then watched as it was pulled back. Suddenly, I was in a spotlight, and realised he had picked the lock to get in.
My breathing hitched as he entered the room; the one person who I most wanted to see, but then most wanted to forget. I didn't know that it was possible to feel so torn about one person until then.
I kept my arms wrapped around my knees as I watched him. I wanted to scream and yell at him to get out. I wanted to tell him to leave me alone and never come back. I didn't want to need any of him. I didn't want to be weak for him. But, at the same time, I also wanted to be wrapped in his arms again. I wanted to be protected by him. I wanted to love him. I wanted him to kiss my wounds and fight off any more.
I was torn.
"Bella..." he whispered, his voice trailing off.
I sniffed and wiped my tears away. I felt cold, and that's exactly how I sounded. "What do you want?"
He took a cautious step forward. I found my body pulling back. He saw this small movement and stopped in his tracks, speaking hesitantly, as if treading on thin ice. "I... I... I just wanted to see if you were okay. I saw the police car and-"
"I'm fine," I interrupted, wiping away more tears. "Are we done here?"
Jasper was taken aback, and voted to not speak for a few moments – moments that felt like an eternity. He tried to read my expression. I made sure there was nothing legible in it.
"Is... is there anything you need... I mean... is there anything I can do?" he asked hesitantly.
You could rewind time. You could take back everything you did at that party. You could bring my mom back. You could give me a chance to say goodbye to her. You could make me forget everything. You could bring us back to where we were before all this happened.
"No."
As that word dripped off my lips, toxic venom, my emotions came flooding back. They bubbled to a boil until I couldn't control it anymore. My body shuddered violently as I tried to hold them in. It didn't work. My sobbing came in a violent swing. Freezing temperatures shot through my body. Tears streamed down my face.
I had lost my mother.
Gone. Forever.
"Bella!" Jasper called, hurrying over and sitting next to me on the bed, placing his hand on my back. My skin engulfed. I had to pull away. I did, although there was a part of me that didn't want to. A part of me needed that contact.
"Don't," I pleaded, holding my hand up to stop him. "Please, don't. It makes it worse."
Jasper's hand softened before dropping. The cut in contact hurt more than the impact. "Bella, what is it? I'm so sorry...I...I-"
"This is not about what you did, Jasper," I sighed. "I just...I need to be alone."
Jasper was quiet for a few seconds. "I can't leave you when you are like this...not like this. What happened?"
"You are the last person I want to talk to," I mumbled.
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
Jasper froze. I could almost feel his pain.
"I know that," he sighed, "and I will leave you alone, but only when I know you will be okay." His tone was quiet and caring; a return to the Jasper I knew. He was the Jasper I loved. "I can't leave you like this without knowing you will be safe. If something ever happened to you I could never live with myself. I can't stand seeing you hurt and-"
"Stop," I interrupted, holding my hand up. "Please, just stop."
Jasper was taken aback. "What...what did I do?"
I paused for a few seconds, taking deep breaths. What did he do?
"Please, just don't say that," I begged. "You did hurt me. You did leave me. Please just stop promising these things that you end up breaking. Please?"
A depression dawned on Jasper, silencing him for a few moments. After a minute's thought, he spoke.
"I'm sorry," he admitted, standing up from my bed and moving away from me. "I'm sorry about what I did. It was a mistake. I didn't...just...I'm sorry. I'll go."
Jasper started to move away, and when he did, my heart ached; stung. It felt like a fat metal chain was wrapped around my heart and was being tugged by a jumbo jet. By being so close to me – by touching me – and then moving away so quickly, he hurt me more than he could ever know
An involuntary gasp of pain escaped my lips as he moved, which caused him to freeze. I clamped both my hands over my mouth and slammed my eyes shut, wishing to be able to take it back. Jasper was at my side in a moment, not touching me.
"Bella, what's wrong?" he asked in alarm.
I squeezed my eyes shut, letting more tears fall. "Just go," I whispered, shaking my head.
"Not now. Please tell me what's wrong," he begged. "I can't leave you like this."
I shook my head, fighting away the memories of everything. They were chewing at the edges of my mind, trying to get in, like monsters, attacking in the cold and dark. I tried to shake them out.
Gone. Forever.
"Bella, please," Jasper pleaded, moving slightly closer to me.
I sighed, squeezing another rush of tears out. I took another long, deep breath before speaking. "If I tell you...If I tell you what it is...will you leave?"
Jasper was quiet as he watched me; reading me. Eventually he spoke. "I can't leave you when you're upset."
I scoffed at the comment. "Yes you can. You have done it before. And this is my house. I want you out."
No you don't.
Jasper looked hurt at my comment, like I had driven a metal rod through his heart. After a few moments of deliberation he spoke. "Okay. I'm sorry. I'll leave. I have no right to force anything on you. You're right. I'm sorry."
Jasper stood and walked towards the window. That feeling returned – that chain. I clamped my hands over my mouth. It didn't work. The words came before I could stop them.
"My mom died!" I called after him.
Jasper spun round on his heels to look at me. His expression was washed with shock. Suddenly, I remembered that his mother had died too. He knew exactly what I was feeling.
"Bella," he sighed, hurrying back towards me. "I'm so sorry."
I put my hand up to him then. He was getting too close, and it scared me away again.
"No. Stop," I whispered. "Go."
"Not now," he argued, moving towards me again.
I made myself stale. I made my eyes cold. I held the hole closed. I shouldn't have told him. I should have kept my big mouth shut.
"Go," I ordered, stronger then.
"But-"
"Go!" I yelled.
Jasper looked to me and searched my expression for any faults. He was frozen in spot. He was debating. He was trying to get a sign out of me. Something. Anything.
I didn't let him.
"Go," I said again, only weaker. I wanted it to be strong, but it didn't work out that way. "I need time...to think. Go."
He stood there for a little while longer, deliberating. In that time I heard my Dad's booming voice.
"Bella, get down here!"
"Go," I growled to Jasper again. "I don't want you here."
Lies. It's all lies.
Jasper was still watching me; fighting an internal battle. It seemed we both had one; part of me wanted him to stay and part to go. Part of him wanted to go, and part wanted to stay. Eventually, after another call from my father and demand from me, he left through the window. Watching him leave brought back that chain. I had to bite back a yell with a determined breath and get on with your life mantra.
Slowly I pulled myself off the bed and plodded downstairs. I was met by my Father sitting on the table, a bottle of gin in one hand.
"Bella!" he exclaimed, opening his arms wide. "Come and give your Daddy a big hug!"
His loud bass laugh filled the room. I just stood in my spot and watched him.
"For Christ's sake, Bella, get over here. We have reason to celebrate!"
I felt like I was kicked in the gut by his big leather boot. Bastard. I knew he blamed mom for a lot of things, but he couldn't possibly be happy she was dead. How could he wish that on anyone? I hated him. I hated him with a fiery passion.
"You're drunk, Dad," I sighed, folding my arms over my chest.
He laughed at the comment. "Really? Well fuck, I hadn't realised that. Why don't you come join me? I mean, fuck, we have a lot to celebrate!"
I sighed, not watching my tongue. I didn't want to put up with his shit.
He raised his eyebrows to me in waiting. When I didn't speak he continued.
"Well, for one, she's dead! I mean, hell, isn't that just fucking fantastic." Sarcasm was dripping from his words, cruel and inhumane. "Now I get stuck with you and sweet little Renesmee. My life is fucking complete!" He threw his hands in the air for extra emphasis. "Because I was the one who wanted to keep you two in the first place," he spat, finishing his rant off with a heavy scoff.
I was tired of his shit. I turned around to leave when he yelled again.
"Don't you dare walk away!" he growled menacingly. "We still have more to celebrate. I mean, not only have I gotten rid of the bitch, but I don't even have to worry about any of her family coming over for the funeral! They all said no! They don't care!" He laughed cruelly. "And you call me cruel hearted." He chuckled darkly after this point. "Oh, apart from your Uncle Phil. He's coming because he lives in this god forsaken state. It's great, isn't it?"
I hated him. I wanted to kill him. How could he say such cruel things? Mom had only died mere hours ago. I couldn't stand him. I didn't want to live in the same house as him. I couldn't live in the same house as him. Renesmee couldn't live in the same house as him.
Why did I make her?
Oh, because I was selfish. Because I couldn't give up Jasper for her.
"Just stop, Dad," I sighed.
He was angry then. He threw his bottle against the wall. It smashed with an ear-splitting sound. You better clean that shit up, I thought darkly. Suddenly he stood up from his seat, sending it flying across the room.
"Don't you dare look down your nose at me!" he boomed. I didn't move. I just made myself numb to his words. I didn't care anymore. Not at all. "You are just like me. The apple never falls far from the tree!" He chuckled cruelly. "I saw the whisky bottle gone, and your Mother hated whiskey. I know you drank it, so don't you dare look down at me!"
It was then that he shoved me against the wall. I crumpled to the ground, but didn't feel a thing. It didn't matter. I didn't care. I felt his heavy boot land into my stomach, a thick pressure which I didn't try to block. It didn't matter. No pain came, but I still clutched at the apparent wound. His laugh filled the room before he strode off upstairs.
I was left on that floor, clutching at my fresh wounds, and also ones that had been dug a long time ago. I couldn't drag myself up. I didn't have the strength. My stomach didn't ache, but my heart...it did.
I fell asleep on that cold, hard floor, begging for an eternity of unconsciousness, or at least a chance to turn back time.
Gone. Forever.
###
Saturday; I used to love Saturdays. In Forks I could spend them all with Jake. It was my version of heaven. When I came to Texas Saturdays took on a blessed routine; game and then beach. That was just one of the things I lost the day everything came crashing down.
The funeral was booked for Monday. Charlie wanted it to be over as soon as possible. Mom's body would be kept at the funeral home till then. I had to pick out her burial clothes. I gave them her favourite white and black polka dot dress. She had always loved it.
Saturday morning I woke up on the hard floor, stiff and freezing. I could hear Renesmee crying upstairs. She never cried like that. My heart ached for her. It was the one thing that made me pick myself up, ignoring my body's protests, and go to soothe her.
When I walked into her room she was sitting up in her crib, tears streaming down her tiny face. It crushed my heart to see her in that state.
I rushed to her and scooped her into my arms, cradling her against my chest.
"Oh, Nessie," I soothed. "What's wrong?"
Renesmee pulled away from me, her eyes red and puffy with tears.
"Where's Mommy?" she begged me. "What does dead mean?"
Her voice was weak and quiet. My breath hitched as her questions came.
Of course.
I sighed and walked over to the little sofa near the window, sitting down on it and holding her in my arms. I had to think for a while. I was in no space to explain this to her. How was I supposed to tell my two year old sister that her mother was never coming home?
Gone. Forever.
I should have known it was coming. She had spent a lot of time with mom in the months prior to her death. Of course she would have questions. She was only young. She didn't fully understand. Even I didn't fully understand.
"Do you remember when we had that goldfish, Squirt?" I asked after a few seconds. Renesmee nodded slowly. "And do you remember how she went to heaven because she fell out of her tank?" Renesmee nodded again. I breathed a sigh of relief. I had something to work with. "Well, mommy's kind of like that. Mommy had an accident and now she has gone to heaven too. She's with Squirt."
Renesmee nodded slowly again, thinking. Big brown eyes shifted to mine, swimming in fresh tears. "Does that mean I will never see her again?"
Gone. Forever.
How was I meant to explain the facts of mortality to a two year old?
"Yes and no," I answered, hugging her tight a wiping away an errant tear. "You see, Mommy won't be back here with us again, because she is in heaven now. But you will always be able to remember her. She will always be with you in here." I pointed to her heart. Her little hands followed, clutching at her own chest. "Just close your eyes and think about her. She will always be in heaven, looking over you and making sure you are safe. Mommy will never leave you, and years from now, when you are very, very old, you will be able to see her again."
Renesmee kept looking at me, and then slowly nodded. "Is Mommy watching us right now?" she whispered. The adorable, crushing, pleading look she gave me brought on my own tears. I ached for her.
I smiled weakly and nodded, trying to stop the tears. "Yes. Right now she will be sitting on a cloud with Squirt, looking down at us and smiling."
Renesmee nodded, solemn, tears swimming. Her eyes flicked to the window, and her next sentence was whimsical. "I wish Mommy was here," she sighed, before leaning into me.
I hugged her and kissed the top of her head. "So do I."
Eventually I took Renesmee downstairs, had breakfast and then got her ready. We had to start getting things in order. The day was spent making arrangements, meeting with the Funeral Director and calling all the appropriate people to inform them of her passing.
I didn't let my mind think over anything but the funeral and organising everything that day. There was too much to do. I didn't need my emotions impairing my judgement. Jasper left me alone that day. Everyone did. I was glad for it. I didn't need to think of anything apart from burying my mother.
Eventually we retired from organising and I trudged to my room, after feeding Renesmee and getting her ready for bed. I slowly pulled myself to the bathroom and took a hot shower. The warm water helped my body's aches, but I still felt cold. After twenty minutes I gave up and got out, pulled on a pair of sweats and went to my bed. I didn't dare look at the bruise on my stomach. It would make it all too real.
I curled up on the covers and wrapped my arms around my knees. I could feel my heart aching and my chest tightening, struggling under the weight of tears I wouldn't shed. I didn't want to feel it, because I didn't want it to be real.
Gone. Forever.
After a few minutes I heard the threatening sound of Charlie's loud footsteps approaching my door. I then heard him climbing up that tiny ladder leading into my room. I froze.
"Bella!" he boomed. I peeked towards him and was met by his wicked smile. I could already smell the alcohol on his breath. "Come here."
I quietly slipped off the bed, walking towards him without hesitation. I couldn't bring myself to care about what was going to happen. I couldn't be bothered to make myself feel any more than I had to. It didn't matter anymore.
Charlie reached down and put his rough, hard finger under my chin, lifting it violently. It stung. He smiled down at me.
"You look like your Mother," he spat, shoving my chin away, his whiskey breath clogging my airways. "I don't like looking at you. I hate your Mother."
Gee, thanks Dad.
He narrowed his eyes at me. "I want you to take care of Renesmee from now on. If you don't, I'll have to make other arrangements."
What?
I couldn't speak. I was shocked. I didn't know what to say.
I couldn't lose her too.
Apparently, I didn't reply in time for him, because the next thing I felt was a stinging pain on my cheek.
"Answer me!" he ripped.
I clutched at my cheek, shocked and frightened. The hole in my chest singed and burned. My heart dropped.
I answered quickly, cradling my pained cheek in my palm. "I will look after her," I squeaked out.
He nodded coldly. "Good. Now go away."
He shoved me back harshly, and I stumbled to the ground. He left muttering unrecognisable words.
I was left there, lying on the ground, clutching at my bruises once again. I was in pain. I was feeling emotions I had never felt before. Surely it couldn't get any worse. I hated it.
Gone. Forever.
Slowly I pulled myself back onto my bed and lay there on my side. I desperately called for sleep to take me. I was beaten and broken both mentally and physically. I just wanted it to end. It couldn't get any worse. Surely.
Gone. Forever.
I was about to fall asleep when I heard that familiar scratching on the glass. I knew who it was. I wanted to tell him to go away. I just didn't have the energy.
"Bella?" he asked cautiously as he stepped in.
I groaned and squeezed my eyes closed as I heard his voice. It only chewed away at more of me. Could I not get a break from anyone?
I started to pull myself up and sit on the edge of the bed. I looked to Jasper as he stood near my curtain. I tried as hard as I could to not show him any emotion.
"Go away, Jasper," I growled. I still couldn't stand to look at him. Those pictures of him and Victoria were at the front of my mind whenever I saw him, and they were the last things I wanted to see. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't be near him.
"I just want to make sure you are okay," he excused. "I heard yelling."
"You really shouldn't eaves drop," I spat coldly.
Jasper ignored that comment. "Listen, Bella, I have to talk to you. I just..."
"I don't want to hear any of it," I told him.
"Please don't be like this, Bella. I'm trying to make this better. I'm sorry."
"I know, Jasper," I breathed. "God, do I know. I've heard it plenty of times before. But I just cannot deal with this right now. My mother just died! My father doesn't want me here! I'm trying to look after my baby sister and explain to her what death is when I can't even cope with my own grief! Surely you of all people can understand that I need space."
I was pretty pissed off with Jasper. My Mom was dead, my Dad wanted me dead, the love of my life hooked up with the girl who hated my guts and when I asked for space he somehow had this incapacity of giving it to me. To add to it, he thought it was the perfect time to have a 'talk'. I just couldn't deal with so much so quickly. Not when my mother's body wasn't even cold.
Jasper was quiet as he stared at me, deep in thought. My expression didn't change. Eventually he spoke.
"Your Dad hurt you again, didn't he," he growled. It was more of a statement than a question.
I sighed, tired and downtrodden and not at all in the mood to start another one of those conversations.
"I don't see how this is any of your business," I countered.
"I will kill him," he snarled, storming towards my door.
I leaped up from the bed, ignoring my body's protests, and blocked the doorway.
"Don't you dare," I growled.
Jasper stood mere feet from me. I could feel the heat of his body near mine. My heart screamed at me to reach out and touch him. My head restrained me.
"Get out of the way, Bella," he ordered.
That made me mad.
I crinkled up my nose and braced myself as I stabbed my index finger into his chest. He stumbled back. I removed it quickly in order to soothe the burn in my chest.
"Don't you dare tell me what to do in my own house!" I yelled. "You have no right. Now get out before I call the police! Or hell, I'll just call out for my father to come up here with his gun. He's a cop, right? Limits the wait time."
I raised an eyebrow at him, testing him. Jasper held stern and kept his stale eyes locked on me.
"By all means, call him up here. I can't wait to finally meet the bastard face to face," he growled.
That finally snapped my coil of patience with Jasper. Bracing my hands on his chest, I shoved him back. I knew I was being selfish, and I knew I had to talk to Jasper eventually, but at that moment, I just couldn't. It was too much.
"Get out!" I ordered.
Jasper fell back a step, shocked by my outburst. My weight fell forward, leaning on him. Shaking off the feeling of his touch, I stood up straight and tried again. And again. And again.
My shoves got weaker with every push as the feeling of touching him hit me like a bright yellow school bus. Jasper stopped moving.
"Please, just leave," I begged. "Just go. Please."
"Bella, calm down," he soothed, grabbing my wrists and halting my protests. Ripples of electricity ran through me. My skin was on fire. I tried to pull away. He held me firm.
"Let me go!" I yelled.
I wasn't going to let him do this again. He wasn't going to win. I wasn't ready to forgive him yet. I wasn't going to be weak; putty in his hands.
"Calm down, Bella," he tried to soothe me again. "Please, just calm down."
"Don't you tell me what to do," I snarled. "You cannot order me around! I cannot let you hurt me again!"
Jasper stopped abruptly. His expression changed to something I couldn't recognise. Then, he let go of me.
I snatched my wrists back.
"I would never hurt you," he breathed. "Not again. I love you."
I felt like I was going to collapse into a sobbing heap. "Please, don't say that."
"It's the truth," he promised.
"I can't," I told him, stepping away, hitting the door with a thump. "Not now. Not today. I can't deal with any of it."
I refused to meet his eyes, scared by what they might hold. Jasper wouldn't look away from mine.
"I'll wait," he promised. "I'll be here, waiting, until you can."
Everything he said hurt me more and more. He sounded genuine, but I had heard it all before. It wasn't the first time he had promised to love me.
"Go," I begged. "Please. I need to breathe."
Jasper deliberated, his sky blue eyes glancing at the red mark splattered across my cheek. Then, they shot back to mine.
"You deserve better than this," he told me, not letting me look away from his eyes. "Renesmee deserves better than this."
"Don't, Jasper," I whispered.
"I'll make sure you get better than this if it's the only thing I ever do," he swore.
Before I could answer he turned and headed towards the window.
Gone. Forever.
###
I didn't fall asleep that night. I lay awake, totally numb to everything. I just stared at the ceiling.
Jasper didn't come on Sunday. I think he had finally decided to give me that space. It was something I greatly needed. I needed to recover and get my head together. I needed to grieve the loss of my mother. I needed to look after my little sister. I needed to rebuild myself from the ground up. They were things I had to do alone.
That day Renesmee and I went to visit my mother's body at the funeral home. I remember the way she looked; pale, cold, lifeless. Years later the memory is still crystal clear. She had lost the spark she had; that twinkle in her eyes that you could see on her good days. Her hair was perfectly combed, parted straight down the middle. It wasn't right. It wasn't wild and unruly how she liked it. It didn't look like my mother. Even in that black and white polka dot dress, she looked alien to me.
Renesmee brought along the picture she had drawn of the three of us and left it in the coffin with her. She was scared to reach her hand in; scared to come within even five feet of the wooden box, so tasteless and bland, in which mom would spend the rest of eternity. She had clutched at my shirt with little tears rolling down flushed cheeks as we walked towards it. She was frightened. So was I. I had an undeniable urge to pull out coloured markers and doodle on the coffin; give it some sort of vitality and life like my mother had. She wasn't meant to be buried in a bland box.
I left my mother a letter. In it I wrote about everything; everything she never knew about me, everything I wanted to share with her and also, through everything, what I felt about her and how much I loved her. I had slipped it in beside her, careful not to touch anything, frightened that it might contaminate my memory of her while she was alive. We had never had an easy relationship, but it was the best parental relationship I had, and I was grief-stricken with the loss of it all.
That day, it felt like the tears never stopped.
When I got home that night there wasn't a question in my mind about what I had to do. With a determined, resolute breath, I started on my search for the ring I had lost. When I located it, tucked in a musty corner of my room, I dusted it off and slipped it back onto my finger, where it would stay. I knew I hadn't achieved the level of forgiveness that Jasper and I needed to move on, but my experiences that day showed me one thing of which I was sure; I didn't want to lose him like I lost my mother.
I loved him, and although we suffered through trials and tribulations, it would never change. I wasn't going to run from it anymore. I wasn't going to shut him out. I was going to let him in and talk it through because our bond was stronger than the force of any regretful kiss. Throwing away what we had over something that was a drunken mistake was idiotic. We were stronger than that; smarter than that.
I had lost my mother, but I refused to lose Jasper. Seeing her cold, lifeless body taught me that. I was facing the grief of her death alone – trying to comfort my little sister and explain to her what I couldn't fully understand myself – when I didn't have to. I had Jasper. I had someone who had been through it all before and wanted to be there for me. I had someone to lean on – someone I loved. I wouldn't throw that away. Everyone makes mistakes, and I had made my fair share. It only made sense that Jasper made a few too. We were only young.
I wouldn't throw what we had away. I would wear the ring and tell the truth, because I hated lies. Not wearing it was one. I loved him. That wasn't something I could deny.
I didn't asleep well that night. The next day was when I was burying my Mother.
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Author's Note: This chapter took longer than expected to get out. Sorry about that. Thank you for all your lovely reviews. This will most likely be the last update until Christmas, at least (maybe even the new year, seeing as though it's quite a busy time), so I'll wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year right now. I hope everyone gets what they want and has a lovely time. If you don't celebrate Christmas, I hope you have a good holiday season. Stay safe!