Let Go
Chapter 24

###

Lying

###

That night I had a dream, although you could also label it a nightmare. It depends how you look at it. It scared me. I was panicking. But it also included the most beautiful thing in the world.

There was Jasper. He was walking in front of me over a train track. It hung over a deep, dark, thick mist that plunged into oblivion. It concealed everything around me. The stars were gone. I couldn't see what was ahead. I could only see a few feet in front of me. He was walking into the mist. I was following him. He was leading me into the unknown. I was trying to yell at him to wait for me. I was stumbling over the tracks. He kept walking. He was disappearing.

Then he was gone.

I started running after him. I was tripping over everything. I was hitting the wood. But then I broke into a clear patch.

I was met by five faces; five familiar faces. They were all standing on the train tracks, looking over the edge in anticipation. Then they turned to me. Emmett was smiling encouragingly at me. Rosalie was concerned. Alice was stern. Edward was filled with anticipation. I met Jasper's eyes then. He was looking into my own. His eyes were cold. I couldn't read them. It scared me. I didn't know what to think.

"It's about time you got here," Emmett said.

Then I shot awake.

I rubbed my eyes out of their blur, brushing the tears away. I was panting heavily. I had to calm myself with long, deep breaths. I then looked to my curtains. Subtle light was seeping through them. I looked to my clock. It was eight o'clock. The funeral was at eleven. Tears started falling again.

Slowly I got myself out of bed and walked to the bathroom. I had a shower. I brushed my teeth and hair. My cheek was a little red from Charlie's slap the night before, but nothing major. It wasn't bruised. It wasn't a hard slap. I applied some makeup to hide it. Then I went to my closet.

I was going to a funeral. What do you wear at a funeral?

Black.

I searched and searched. Eventually I found some decent, formal clothes that I could wear. I pulled out a simple, black dress that fell to my knees and had a synched in waist. It was nice enough. Not beautiful, but nice. I then put on black ballerina shoes and a simple black jacket. I didn't bother to look in the mirror. I just grabbed a small bag, put my phone and wallet in it and walked to Renesmee's bedroom.

It didn't matter.

I got her ready and dressed her in a little black skirt and a black top. I then brushed her hair and took her down stairs for breakfast. She was silent the entire time. So was I.

When we got there Charlie was pacing the room, talking urgently on the phone, filled with nerves. His brief glance he threw at us was not one of recognition, but disgust. I quietly sat Renesmee in her chair and gave her some food. All was deathly silent in the house.

"Ready?" Charlie asked when he turned to me.

I nodded slowly. "When Renesmee finishes her food."

He nodded and stormed over to the couch, sitting down and burying his head in his hands, breaking. As he did so he threw a comment back at me.

"It will all be over soon enough," he spat ominously.

I couldn't wait.

When we were done we all walked out to Charlie's cold black sedan and got in. As he pulled out of the driveway I let my eyes look over at Jasper's house. He was there, on the porch, leaning against a pillar and watching us drive away. I flinched under his gaze and looked away. I was suddenly thankful for the heavily tinted windows. Screw sunlight.

When we arrived at the Church people were already hanging about outside. The Hearse was there. It was waiting. I didn't want to look at it.

When we got out we were greeted by many sad and apologetic faces. They gave us their sympathy and best wishes. I just had to plaster on a weak smile and accept it. I didn't know who the people were. I didn't take notice of them. I just held a crying Renesmee in my arms and numbed myself to it all. I knew who I needed next to me, but that wasn't possible. I wasn't ready for that yet. I wasn't ready to dive head first again. I wanted him, but not that quickly.

When I looked into the Church I had to roll my eyes. It was a perfect set out. Everything was in line. Everything was spotless. My mom would have hated it. She would have wanted a hippy funeral. She wouldn't have wanted this, with the whole white roses and catholic priest thing. We weren't even catholic.

I was allocated greeting duty. I had to stand there with a smile and greet everyone on their way in. I didn't see the point. It wasn't what mom would have wanted. I could see Charlie standing near the Hurst, talking and laughing with his colleagues as if nothing had happened. I wanted to puke.

When people started entering and I greeted them politely. I had to hold Renesmee andshake their hands. She wriggled impatiently in my arms.

As people entered I just said the necessary kind words.

"Thank you."

"Thank you for coming."

"Please enjoy the service."

"We are grateful you came."

Blah de blah de blah.

It was only when a familiar, warm hand met mine that I snapped out of my trance and registered everything around me. The area was thinning out, although people were still coming.

"Bella."

I knew that voice.

My eyes shot up to meet it.

My heart stopped.

Rosalie.

"Thank you for coming," I said generically, fresh tears begging to be shed. I looked to my feet, refusing to keep looking at her. I knew it would kill me to see her. I couldn't face that. Seeing Rosalie – the person who had become my best friend and who was also so close to Jasper – nearly killed me. It reminded me of just how much I had lost.

She sighed and took my hand in hers. It was soothing, but still painful.

"I'm not here about Jasper," she told me straight out. I looked up to her and met her gaze. "I want to be here for you. I hate what my cousin did to you, and I want you to know that. Pressuring you at school was just wrong, and I'm sorry. But none of that matters right now. I'm here to...I want to...to be here for you at your Mother's funeral. I know what it feels like to lose your mother."

I knew tears were falling as I watched her. Her mother had run away. Sure, it wasn't death, but it was still a loss, and one that hurt just as much.

"Thank you," I whispered, truly grateful to have her there with me.

Rosalie hugged me then. A moment later we walked into the room together. At least I wouldn't be alone. I wouldn't have Jasper, but I had the next best thing.

###

The service lasted for a long time. I didn't take into account how long. When it was done we all left the room and followed the casket to the cemetery. We buried her there. The whole time Renesmee's little face was buried in my dress, tears dampening it. Rosalie kept her arm around my shoulder as I leant into her for support. Of all people, I never imagined that Rosalie would be the one supporting me at my Mother's funeral. But that didn't matter. She was the best person I could have had there. She knew when to speak and when not to. She knew when to hug me and when to let me have some space. She was...perfect. I loved her for it.

When it was done Rosalie turned to me and threw her gaze to a group of old, run down, mossy tombstones at the far end of the cemetery.

"I think someone wants to talk to you," she said softly.

I took a deep breath and followed her gaze. Jasper was sitting on one, his head buried in his hands. He had clearly been waiting for me. I knew it was time to face the music, and so I turned back to her and nodded.

"Would you take Renesmee?"

Rosalie smiled weakly. "Of course."

Slowly and gently I handed Renesmee over. I then looked up to Rosalie.

"It will be okay," she promised.

I smiled kindly to her before turning and walking towards him.

I knew I had to talk to him sometime. I knew I had to make it better. I knew we had to move on from this, or at least try to talk it out. I had been dodging to bullet for too long. It was time to face the music. He was sorry, and I couldn't doubt his honesty. At the same time, I couldn't lose him. It was enough to lose my mother.

As I walked towards him he looked up to me. His eyes were wet, red and puffy. He had been crying. I had never seen Jasper crying before. Normally it was me who did the crying.

This made more of my tears fall.

"Hi," I greeted, stopping ten feet from him and folding my arms over my chest. I could feel the pain coming up. The distance between us was barely anything, but at the same time it felt like we were worlds apart. We weren't synched. I didn't know what he was feeling. We were...cold.

Jasper peeled his eyes up to meet mine. Pain ripped through them. They then flicked to my finger, staring at it, emptiness filling them. He didn't look away from it as he spoke.

"You're wearing the ring," he noted coldly. He still wouldn't look at me.

I nodded, trying to find the right words. "I...I...I want to talk this out," I stuttered. "I don't want to lose you."

Jasper refused to look at me as he continued speaking, not acknowledging what I just expressed.

"I don't think you should wear it."

I felt like he had just hit me with a shiny silver bullet.

"What are you talking about?" I demanded. I must have heard him wrong.

He still refused to look at me as more shots were fired. "I don't think you should wear it anymore," he said coldly, "because they mean nothing."

I couldn't breathe.

I must have heard him wrong.

"You're lying," I claimed; begged, even. He couldn't have meant that.

"I'm not," he swore, watching his feet. "I don't want it anymore. I don't want youanymore. I don't love you, and I never did."

I felt like he sliced a burning knife through my heart. Desperately, I clung for air, and to the remnants of our relationship.

"Please, Jasper," I begged. "You can't mean that. You don't mean that."

And then it hit me.

What had he said last time I saw him?

"I'll wait...I'll be here, waiting, until you can."

"I'll make sure you get better than this if it's the only thing I ever do."

I clicked immediately.

He was trying to make me leave.

"I do," he swore, still avoiding my eyes, his stance firm and his fists clenched. The smell of fresh dirt and the summer sun made me feel sick to my stomach. "I don't love you. It's not forever. It never was."

I made myself immune to the cuts, because I knew they weren't true.

"You're lying," I tried again. "You're lying. I know you're lying."

My voice was certain, not wavering. This finally made Jasper look up at me. When he did, I saw the tears and the pain protruding through big, aching blue eyes, and it tore at my heart, almost making it burst into flames. It was then that I realised that my appearance matched his in every way; torn apart from the seams, desperately clinging to a little bit of hope and dissolving into tears before the one person you love the most.

"How do you know that?" he challenged.

Simple. "Because of what you said the last time I saw you. You said you would wait. And because you couldn't look me in the eye when you said you don't love me. When you lie, you can't look me in the eyes."

"I wasn't lying," he swore, but his eyes darted away again, pain ripping through them.

I knew it.

"Then say it to my face," I told him, sobs rocking through my body. "Look me in the eyes and say you don't love me."

Suddenly, I felt déjà vu, back to the day of our confrontation in the corridor. Only, we had swapped sides, and I was the one trying to pick up the scraps of our relationship; of us.

Jasper looked up to me, his eyes locking with mine like glue, and I could see the blizzard beneath the blue as he waged a war with his head and his heart. Pain paraded through him and shook him to the core. I felt naked under his spotlight. A second later, he looked away.

"You have no idea when I am or aren't lying, Bella," he growled. "I don't want you."

Anger shot through me. I couldn't hold back the onslaught. "Stop lying to me," I growled, emotions overpowering me; begging the not have heard the words. I couldn't hear them again. Every time I did, a part of me died. "I know you and I know what you're saying isn't true!" My voice was desperate and pleading. I couldn't let us slip away. "You can't expect me to believe that everything in these past months has been a lie! Don't say that!"

Jasper didn't flinch at my tone, but he still wasn't looking at me. I suddenly felt very cold, even under the blistering heat.

"It has been a lie," he told me gruffly, finally looking at me. "I've been lying for a long time."

The fact that he looked at me in the eyes threw my confidence.

"No you haven't," I tried again. "I know you. You haven't."

"No, Bella, you don't know me!" he shouted, his eyes shooting daggers as his hands ran through his hair. "If you knew me you'd know the truth, and you don't!"

"Jasper..." my voice trailed off, stunned to silence.

"Stop it," he growled. "Just stop it. Stop talking. You don't know any of it. You don't."

I could see him breaking down, and that expression shattered my heart. Something was eating away at him and itching under his skin. Something was hurting him. Little did I know that that something would shatter us.

"You don't know..." he muttered to himself, tears falling down his face. "You don't."

I shouldn't have spoken, but I did.

"Know what, Jasper?"

His eyes shot to mine, pained and aching. Without looking away, he spoke, and for once I knew he wasn't lying. That hurt more than anything before.

"You don't know when I'm lying because I've been lying to you all this time. I've been lying to you about my mother." My breathing hitched as he spoke his next words. "She never died. She ran away, pregnant, and left me alone. And I never told you."

I couldn't think properly.

I could barely even breathe.

I wanted to hug him and tell him it was okay, but then I also wanted to run away and never look back, hurt for everything he was saying to me that day.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, my voice breaking.

Jasper kept looking at me in that way that revealed every painful emotion he felt. I didn't know how to react. Shock took over me. Too much was happening that day. I couldn't deal with any more.

"Because I didn't want you to hate her or judge her by knowing the truth. She was good to me. I love her. I wanted to pretend that...it didn't happen."

I couldn't believe it. I felt like I was about to faint. I didn't know where to look.

I thought he had lost a mother like I had just done. I thought he understood the pain. I thought it could bring us closer.

"We were meant to be honest with each other..." I breathed, my voice trailing off again.

Jasper refused to speak, his eyes avoiding mine at all costs.

"What is it; you didn't trust me enough to love her just because you did?" I pressed. "You thought I would judge her? You thought I would hate her and hurt you when you wanted me to love her?"

Jasper didn't answer again. I knew what that meant.

"I thought we trusted each other. I thought you trusted me to not do that, Jasper. I thought we were honest with each other."

My words were mechanical, and I couldn't really feel any emotions other than the overwhelming shock filling me.

He didn't answer again. Suddenly, I felt cold and distant from everything; from him.

"So you don't want me?" I questioned. "You lied to me about your mother because you weren't sure if you really wanted me, so you couldn't open up and be honest and trusting because of the uncertainty, and now you've decided I'm not the one?"

It all hurt to say.

Jasper opened his mouth to speak, and this time words actually came out.

"No, that's not it. I did want you. I just...I just had to lie."

I nodded along, unable to muster the energy for any sort of emotional reaction.

"So what was today about? You don't want me, or were you just trying to scare me away?"

Jasper was silent for a few moments; long enough for me to ponder walking away without another word. But eventually, he spoke.

"I had to get you out of your father's house," he answered quietly.

Ah.

I nodded once, unable to care about the answer; unable to bring up anything that would make me feel. Too much had happened that day.

"That's not your decision to make," I answered mechanically before turning on my toes and walking away from him.

###

I walked over to Rosalie without a backward glance. As soon as she saw my expression she let out a little gasp and gave me a look exactly like one she had given me a long time ago. Suddenly, I was sucked back to a conversation we had had in a car outside Edward's house that I had long since forgotten about.

"...There are things about Jasper you do not know. I know that's an obvious thing. I mean, you haven't known him for long. It's just...what I mean is that...there are things you should know before your relationship goes this far that you don't...

"Now, don't get me wrong. I love my cousin to death. It's just that...Jasper can be difficult. He is a great guy, but can be destructive to anyone he meets, especially people who he is close to. I don't want you getting hurt, and you should be prepared. It may seem like you know him, but all of a sudden his mood changes spontaneously. You will be left in the dust thinking what the hell happened. I just want you to be careful."

She had known all along. She had known he had been lying all along.

And she never told me.

At that moment I couldn't even fathom whether Rosalie's silence on the topic was wrong or right, considering he was her cousin, but I certainly wasn't going to stick around to talk it out.

"Bella..." she breathed as she noticed my appearance. "Bella, what happened?"

I took Renesmee from her and looked at her blankly. "You knew. You knew all along, didn't you?"

Rosalie caught on immediately. "H-he didn't want us to tell you," she admitted weakly.

Of course he didn't. And they always listened.

I didn't know what to think about that. I didn't even know if it was right to be angry at her. What gave me any right to any more information on people's lives than what they wanted to share? What gave me the right to know more about Jasper than what he wanted me to? Was I over reacting?

Then again, Jasper had lied, and we had always been about honesty. I had trusted him enough to be honest about everything to do with my life. He had even told me everything about the other's lives, expecting complete honesty there. This was all without giving it himself. How was that fair?

But was it Rosalie's fault that he did that? She had come to be with me at my mother's funeral. She was good to me. Should I have been angry at her for just doing what Jasper wanted?

I didn't know, but I was still hurting and lost.

Thus, only two words left my lips as I turned my back.

"Goodbye, Rosalie."

Within five minutes Renesmee and I were back in my father's black sedan with locked doors, driving back to our empty house.

###

Author's Note: I hope the holiday season was good to you all! Happy New Year! Please do review. Would you be angry at Rosalie? What about Jasper? Thanks for reading!