Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer and affiliates owns all that is Twilight. No copyright infringement intended. There is a big cliffy at the end; just a warning.

Chapter Thirty-Four

"Things are not always what they seem; the first appearance deceives many; the intelligence of a few perceives what has been carefully hidden..."

- Phaedrus

28 June – Early Wednesday Morning – Jasper's POV

Silence filled the house as I entered from the garage. I hated when it was that quiet; it made my mind race and fill with nothing good. Would this be how my life would play without Bella in it? Would only silence fill my ears, soul and heart? Would I live in a world of grey, void of even shades of grey? The idea was unfathomable. It scared me more than Bella's sickness. There were ways around that, but there was nothing, no cure, to ever bring her back from the heavens. It was a place I would never be welcomed and a place that would refuse to give up Bella once they had attained her.

And then, color seeped into my vision and a slow, even heartbeat was heard. I didn't know if Bella was sleeping, but she was here and tangible. My footsteps carried me at vampire speed into our bedroom, and I immediately halted. My angel wasn't there. Soft wheezes could be heard from the cracked door leading to the bathroom. The door creaked as I pushed it back, taking in the sight before me.

Bella's little body was wrapped into itself, almost in the fetal position. Her hands were grasped around a towel; a semi-damp wash cloth was half-way on her forehead. It must have slid part way off as she moved in her sleep. She was a distressing sight to behold. The sickly smell was the worst; the acid was rancid and all but burnt my nose hairs. My hand came up to my lips, almost in an attempt to stop myself from heaving. I immediately stopped breathing, not having the stomach or fortitude at the moment to deal with that shit. I only had eyes for my love.

My knees hit the carpeted slate as my hands removed the rag from Bella's forehead. A startled breath came from her parted lips as she tried to sit up. I hadn't meant to scare her.

"Sorry, Isabella."

Tears filled her eyes and I wondered what I had done wrong. Before I even had a chance to ask, she was bent over the toilet, trying to heave her stomach from her throat and into the bowl. When the heaves became nothing but empty gags, I stood up and filled a glass full of water. I brought it gently to Bella's lips. I bit the inside of my cheek as I watched my little angel struggle to remain upright. How could I have ever left her?

"Slowly, Bella. Your stomach can't handle that much liquid instantly." My voice shook with suppressed emotions as I watched her lips pull back once she was done. Bella's shiny, orbs turned to mine and I could see myself reflected in them.

"What's wrong, angel? Do you need the hospital?" I knew my voice sounded frantic, but I had just learned of her death-defying disease. I still didn't know the intimate details of her prognosis.

"N-No, Jasper," she rasped. "I get sick because of the guilt. It's something I've always suffered." All I could do was give her a shaky nod.

"I'm sorry, so incredibly sorry," she cried. My lips turned into a sad smile as I pushed her matted, sweaty hair back and out of her face. I knew she was apologizing for more than withholding the truth from me. She was also apologizing unnecessarily for her appearance and smell. Damn, my heart was breaking at a rate quicker than it would heal.

I retrieved the rag from the floor and wet it in the sink. I flushed the smelly shit in the toilet and took in a breath. I tried not to cringe. I had smelt worse at the hospital. However, since this was from Bella, it hurt me more. Anything regarding Bella would affect me more.

I bent once again before the little angel and began to tenderly wipe her cracked lips. Bits of bile were wiped away while I shuddered from the state of her lips. I could only imagine what the acid had done to her throat if her lips were any indication. Her unshed tears finally fell from their confines and slid down her dirty face. Even in her condition I still thought her beautiful. Bella's eyes closed and little broken whimpers tore from her throat. I couldn't tell if they were from my ministrations or from her tired body.

"Do you want to brush your teeth, angel?" I asked, knowing it must have been terrible having such a vile taste in her mouth. Her eyes showed her love and gratefulness.

"Jasper . . ." she said, the inflection in her voice made it seem like a question. I just stared at her blankly.

"You called m-me Isabella before."

"I know, angel," I agreed, still not understanding what she was thinking.

"As if y-you were still terribly angry with m-me," she continued to stumble. Her eyes couldn't even meet mine. Her guilt slammed into me.

"I'm still angry, Bella, but I love you even more than that anger." I didn't want to have that conversation now, but she needed to be reassured that even with all her falsehoods, I would always love her. Nothing more in my life was closer to the truth.

She gave me a watery bob of her head, but said nothing further. Once I had gently helped her up and she washed her face and brushed her teeth, we made our way to the bed. I picked her up and placed her in the center. She sighed from the softness of the mattress. It hurt me that she had spent the entire night on the hard slate tiles; even if there was a bath mat over them. Her little body molded around a pillow as she hugged it close to her chest.

I buried my hands in her hair, gently rubbing her scalp. Bella's little moans encouraged me to continue. My lips pressed to her temple, the need to kiss her in that moment was great. It all but tore out my intestines, watching her in such a state. I reluctantly pulled back and moved to my side of the bed. I curled up on my side, facing her. Our heads were a foot apart and our eyes focused intently on each other. Her hand weakly reached out me; I eagerly took it into my larger one. My angel gave me a little smile. The guilt was still clearly written in her eyes, but it was manageable for now. I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed each warm finger before placing the palm on my cheek. Warmth flared on my cold skin. I closed my eyes at the beloved sensation. I couldn't lose her – I simply could not lose her.

"Why do you have such intense reactions to guilt, angel?" I asked her helplessly. My stomach twisted in knots when I saw and heard it. I wanted to gouge out my ears, just to stop the wretched feelings it invoked.

"It's always been like that." She shrugged her shoulders. My father was kind of like that, also. So I guess I can blame him." A wobbly smile touched the corners of her mouth. I could feel the beautiful love she felt for her dad. She didn't blame him for anything.

"For a time," she continued, and I nodded my head in encouragement. "My mother thought I was bulimic. She even sat me down before explaining how I shouldn't give into the social norms of how girls were expected to be. She said I should be my own person and do my own thing. Goodness, did she live that advise."I couldn't help the derisive chuckle that left my mouth. I wasn't that woman's greatest fan. "She didn't realize how much I was trying to gain her affection and attention. I thought I failed many times. I didn't want to be her middle-aged child, Jazz. I wanted her to need me in return." I suppressed the growl in my chest.

"Eternally her loss, angel." Bella nodded before scooting over to me, erasing the space between us. She burrowed into my chest and shook. I wrapped her securely into my hold, burying my face into the side of her neck.

Would you ever allow me to bite you here? I thought.

Would she ever allow my venom to enter her veins, began to harden her body, and eventually stop her heart? They were all selfish thoughts, but things I truly needed. I rubbed little circles on the small of her back where her shirt had already ridden up.

"I'm sorry, Jasper!" her weak, scratched voice apologized once again. Venom burned my eyes as I listened to the pitiful voice of my little angel. I wanted to yell and break something at the unfairness of her life and of the situation. I hated that she had lied to me, make no mistake, but I loved her more. No matter how many things I could break, it wouldn't matter in the end because we would still be in the same situation, with us both apologizing and Bella's future uncertain.

"You should have told me sooner," I said, needing her to know that I didn't condone her lies. Her hot tears fell on my hand where it caressed her cheek. I touched my cheek to hers, wanting to share her tears. I hoped that all this was a terrible nightmare. But alas, I pulled back and concluded it wasn't to be; my cheeks were as wet as hers.

"I know, Jasper." She studied me for a moment. "You've always deserved better than me!" The sincerity of her statement finally sent me over the edge. I pulled her body even closer to mine before the sob tore through my body. Bella couldn't leave me, and I never deserved anything. My angel's voice was miserable. My head shook in denial.

Bella was so very wrong in her assumptions. She had defined my life in a time when I had nothing. She had given me her innocent perseverance when I lacked it the most. It had been her single-minded love and faith in me, which caused me to climb out of my despair and reach for that which was offered me. I may have put her up on a pedestal like she claimed, but she had deserved it. Even her skewed view of herself couldn't change that truth.

I found the strength to stem my agony and pulled back. I needed to be strong for her. We needed to be strong for each other. Once I was under control and pushed my emotions that wanted to entrap me into the recesses of my body, I asked the question I dreaded the most, the one that would define the next phase of our life.

"What's the prognosis, angel?" I was glad that my voice only shook a little.

"How could you tell my father before me? How could you not confide in me, also?" I hadn't meant to ask those questions, but they also wanted to be answered. The fact that she had told my father before me had stung more than I wanted to admit. It made me question the validity of her love to me, no matter how unfair that assessment was.

"He happened upon me when I had found out again." Once again I wanted to be mad at Carlisle. I wanted to rage at him for keeping something so very vital from me. I wanted to snap at my angel for her lack of faith in me. Bella's words broke me out of my mental rant and my anger that wanted to boil over. "Please, please, don't blame him, Jasper. It wasn't his fault. He pleaded with me to be honest, but I refused." I turned my face from her pleading, not wanting to see the truth written in her eyes.

Warm, little hands surrounded my face, turning it around. My eyes focused on hers, taking in the vivid green specks that seemed to dance in the murky depths. The possibility of never seeing them again all but ripped a gaping hole inside me. Venom flooded my eyes. "It's one of the things you respect most about him, Jasper, his willingness to respect one's decision and never hold it against them. I know you want to be mad at him for withholding something I begged him to. But how could blame him for something you admire the most in your father? It isn't fair, Jasper, and he shouldn't be held accountable for my selfish mistakes. Please, if you want to direct your anger anywhere, make sure it's at the rightful party, and that would be me alone!"

Her fingers caressed the bone under my eyes before she pulled back and directed her gaze out the bedroom window. I could feel both her fear and apprehension. I wondered if the fear was in me yelling at her or simply leaving her again. She had yelled at me to stop, but I had fled in the face of adversity. I was a fucking coward when it came to anything regarding Bella's mortality.

"I don't want to be mad at anyone, angel," I told her, trying to keep the anger and sadness from my voice, but it still leaked through. "Just tell me the truth . . ." Bella looked over to me, a sad smile lingering on her cracked and caked lips. My heart all but fell at the dilapidated image. I gathered up my courage, knowing that I was about to learn more of her truths.

…

Bella's POV from the past – 30 May – Tuesday Morning

"I'm sorry, Ms. Swan, but the Cancer has now spread to your other organs." Silence hung in the air like a bad first date. The awkwardness was enough to swallow someone whole. I had always known this to be an option, but to hear it actually spoke out loud was something different. No words could describe the shock, yet immense sadness that began to engulf me. Reality was a scary thing and often times, ugly. All I could do was nod my head. I was afraid if I opened my mouth, all of my emotions and feelings of utter anguish would come spilling out, with no way to stop the flow.

"There are several options available to you, Ms Swan –" he continued.

"Bella, please," I corrected, somewhat angrily.

I hated to hear him call me by my last name. It felt so cold and sterile. This was the person who iterated to me the very real possibility of my life ending, never existing again, yet he couldn't even call me by something familiar. It wasn't his fault, I knew, yet he was the one to deliver such blowing news. Who else was there to take the blame out on?

"Bella –" he amended. "We can remove the remaining ovary and the rest of your reproductive organs. We'll couple this with strong rounds of chemotherapy and radiation treatments."

I gasped out loud at his description. I hadn't thought it that bad. I couldn't even imagine the type of regime he was speaking about. This time I couldn't help the tears that followed the rules of gravity and fell listlessly down my skin.

"What stage am I in?" I finally asked, flatly, needing to know. My voice sounded as dejected as I felt. I must have been a pitiful sight. Some courage, from somewhere I knew not, returned to me as I looked my Oncologist in the face. His eyes gave the answer away before his lips even had the chance to move. "That bad, hmm?"

"Late stage, Bella." At least he didn't apologize. I never understood why doctors said sorry for something they hadn't caused or had no control over. Perhaps they were sorry about having to deliver such life-altering news. "There's always hope, Bella." I wanted to laugh at the silly platitude, but couldn't. My doctor's eyes conveyed the truth in his sincerest form of condolences. I felt as my head simply bobbed up and down, as if on auto-pilot. "Now the question remains how would you like to precede, Bella?" Such an innocent question, however, not in my circumstance.

Goodness, Jasper was right when he reminded me about the luck in my life "when it rained in my world, it poured buckets". It was another silly platitude that held so much meaning. My chest started to rise and fall as I contemplated the doctor's words. I could feel the terror and sadness welling up inside. It felt like with one deep breath my chest would combust. The first sob thundered through my chest. I quickly placed my hand where it hurt the most and pushed in. Thankfully, I was able to stop the water from overflowing in my eyes.

"May I have time to think about my options?" I asked quickly, not sure when I would eventually break. It was already more than painful to speak. The doctor handed me the ever present tissue on his desk; I gave him a small meaningless smile. I had no other emotion to give to others without breaking. He gave me an understanding look. I wondered how often he had to give such news and how he had built up such a resistance.

"Of course, Bella, I shall be available throughout the week. Please, be sure to take no more than that. The sooner we start treatments, the better." Once again, I nodded before scooting my chair back and making my way to the door.

"Thanks for everything!" I whispered thoughtfully, meaning every word deeply. He simply nodded and I closed the door gently behind me. He had nothing left to give me.

…

Different voices filled the silence around me as I sat on a hard bench. Conversations of all topics were taking place, but the only thing that really captured my mind was the words I had always feared. Doubt had built up in my mind over the weeks, almost convincing myself that I was fine. I laughed at the irony. My body had known better and told me accordingly. I only wanted to live in denial.

Jasper had begged me to go to Carlisle, but I already knew the truth. Even Carlisle wouldn't have been able to help. I didn't have a simple cold that could be cure with soup, rest and plenty of liquids. My illness went much deeper.

The first tear slipped over my lower lashes. I quickly wiped it away, not wanting any evidence of the truth. Jasper often said that fate was a bitch, and I simply laughed at him, not in a mocking tone, but in understanding. Now fate was laughing at me. There had always been a possibility of my disease returning, but I put it from my mind. There was nothing I could do. And then . . . then . . . Jasper had come into my life. I became happy and almost complacent with Jasper; allowing his love to shelter me from the things that meant me harm. Nothing could ever capture me in his embrace, but his love. What a delusional world I had existed in. It had been the ultimate catalyst that had eventually caused me to leave.

I had to get my mind and emotions right. The first time around, I never had the luxury of wallowing in my pain and bad luck. I had a daughter to take care of and no one to lean on. With Jasper, he provided everything I had needed. I was allowed to wallow and lose myself in grief and self-pity. Hearing the news first-hand and knowing for a surety my cancer was back, I needed to go. Things needed to be made right with me.

But even knowing the truth didn't lessen the pain. The hope I had felt the first go around was severely lacking.

"Isabella," I heard over the white noise of the hospital and my turbulent thoughts.

And once again – fate smiled down on me. I wanted to shrivel up and fall into a hole. Of all the times to be caught . . . I smiled at the irony. Without anything else to do or deny, I looked up and into the eyes of Jasper's father.

"Fancy seeing you here, Papa Carlisle," I jested pathetically, trying to inject some humor into my voice. His smile at seeing me immediately turned into a frown at hearing my voice and looking into my broken face.

"What's wrong, little love?" his caring voice asked me. I was surprised that he called me by Cheyenne's nickname. It wasn't until later that I had learned it'd been my nickname first and something he had called me at one of my lowest points in life. Perhaps it was fitting that he had found me, just like at my father's funeral. If Jasper didn't catch me, it seemed like Carlisle was next in line.

"Could we go to your office, Carlisle?" I tried to give him a smile, but even I wasn't that good of an actress. My voice was paltry at best, allowing Carlisle to see past my lousy attempt at making things appear fine.

"Sure, Isabella," he answered, his voice soft as always. It was so rare when his voice wasn't one of comfort. "Follow me, little love." He quickly got up and extended his hand to me. My trembling smile was one of gratitude as I looked up to him, grasping his cold hand in mine.

Once we entered his office and he closed the door, all of my emotions that had been begging to be released, rose to the surface. They threatened to suffocate me with their immeasurable pressure. All I could do was fall to the pressure and allow it to consume me for a time, or else it would have consumed me alive. I feared that I wouldn't survive if they didn't escape.

"Die . . . disease . . . not long . . ." were the broken responses that left my mouth through my excruciating sobs.

Something pulled me from behind and hoisted me up. Hardness met my back as the same hardness wrapped around my arms that were bunched up on my chest.

"It's going to be fine, little love," the hardness cajoled me, not really knowing the reason for my breakdown. "Do you understand, Isabella?" Arguments rose up in my mind, screaming 'it wasn't okay' and 'nothing would ever be fine'.

You simply don't understand, I yelled internally.

"Talk to me, Isabella," it pleaded in my ear.

I didn't know what to say or how to even answer. Time passed; the tick-tock of the clock sounded roughly in my ear. It now seemed to mock me, as if counting down the seconds I had left to live my life, kiss my daughter, smile with Rosie, love Jasper with everything in me. So much time I had wasted, living in my emotions, letting the darkness of my mind take me to unreachable places my family couldn't come.

With each moment that passed, something hard soothed my back. Comprehension started to seep into my mind again, pulling me from the steep fall over the cliff. The hard thing turned out to be Carlisle; he rubbed gentle circles on my back as he allowed me to fall to pieces. I sniffed and wiped my eyes with the crumpled tissue wad in my hand. Carlisle laughed a little at the disrepair of the tissue before offering me a hanky. I should have guessed he carried one around. Carlisle was old world, and oddly beautiful in his mannerisms.

I scooted from his lap, giving him a sheepish smile. I was a little embarrassed from my breakdown. I took a seat on the comfy couch next to him as I wiped my eyes from the salty residue of tears. The pain was still awful, but some pressure had been released.

When a silence settled around us, I looked overto the creature that had become my father in every aspect of the word. He may not have contributed his DNA, but the affections he showered onto me were more than evident of how he thought of me. Papa Carlisle had his own place, deep within my heart.

"Tell me what happened, little love," his soft tone washed over me. And with those simple six words I found myself spilling the secrets I had kept hidden. Tears accompanied each syllable that left between my moving lips.

After I was done, Carlisle gave me that sad look that I knew would be there. It didn't take a genius to know what he would think.

"Please, Isabella, I'm asking you to concede your decision, and tell Jasper. Allow him to help you through this. He adores you, little love, and only wants to be in your life. Don't wait to tell him, darling, let him know now. Both you and he deserve to work this out – as a couple and as a united front!" Before I could stop myself, I took Carlisle's words to heart and listened to his plea.

I understood where he came from. Jasper did deserve to know the truth, but how could I tell him. How could I stand to see him watching me as if I were a broken doll or a disappointment? How could I stand to see in his face the very thing that was plastered all over mine; anger and agony? Where was the fairness to Jasper? He had never signed up to take care of an invalid and her child. So many thoughts ran through the course in my mind, one as outrageous as the next.

"I can't," was my simple, yet completely complicated answer.

"Is this the reason you've been fighting so much lately, Isabella?" Carlisle boldly asked, but in a soft voice.

The question took me by surprise. My eyes narrowed in a fierce look. I didn't understand what gave him that right to ask such a question. I also realized, in the very next moment, I had been taking out my emotions on him unfairly. There was no reason to treat the gentle doctor in such a manner.

I bowed my head and started to silently cry again. The guilt I felt so intensely was rightly placed. I had speculated for weeks about my condition, but refused to acknowledge my situation. Jasper continued to push and push me, wanting to know what the matter was. I refused to tell him, and refused to believe that lightening could strike the place twice. More than anything, I felt like a frightened child, unsure of his or her situation, no safety net to catch my inevitable fall. Maturity and rationality weren't strong factors in a person's decision when one was scared (at least in my situation).

"Yes, Carlisle." I finally lifted my head, waiting to see his rebuke. "I didn't know how to tell him. How does one tell their love that they're going to die? How does one tell their love that cancer (there – I said the hated word aloud) is in the body and eating away as one's body fights for one to live?" My fingers started to weave painfully in my hair. It was as if I was trying to make myself believe that all this was true and not some terrible dream playing out in front of my eyes. "How, Carlisle?" I begged, wanting him to fix me. Jasper always proclaimed his father the best. "How, CARLISLE!" I screamed, not being able to take anymore. My hands started to pull at my locks, wanting the cancer out of me. Perhaps if I bled it out then I would be fine once again.

Strong manacles griped my wrist, trying to pry my hands from my hair without any more damage. "Isabella," I heard whispered above me, but I shook my head.

"NO," I yelled, trying to pull my hand away and scratch my skin.

There was so much built up in me with no possible release. I needed the feelings of depression, hatred, anguish, pain and utter failure out of me. Scratches in my arms would have given the emotions a proper release.

"OUT, out, Carlisle, I WANT it OUT . . ." I screamed, my unstable voice sounding like it was ripping my throat to shreds. "PLEASE – please, get it Out."

Before I could fall on my face, cold arms surrounded me, pulling me in. I buried my face in the cold marble slab that was his chest, and let go of all the emotions. There was nothing else left but to truly face the truth and allow it to fill me up.

"I'll tell him Carlisle, eventually," I finally conceded as the smoke cleared and revealed the unforgiving truth. "I have to take care of myself first. How can I tell and expect Jasper to accept it if I can't even do that myself?"

…

Jasper's POV in the present (Italics are Bella's POV from past)

"After my talk with Carlisle and in the three weeks that I was gone," she continued in her scratchy voice, "I decided not to undergo treatments. After doing my own research, talking to more doctors, going under a battery of test, and even having Carlisle get a second opinion, the prognosis was still bleakly grim." I finally gave her an unsteady nod.

"I didn't want to live out the remainder of my life like that: tethered to some machine, not knowing if the treatment would even work in the end, having to go through more surgeries, enduring massive amounts of pain for an uncertainty. I have since talked with Carlisle, and he's helped me to see my options. I haven't been the nicest to him, Jasper, yet he has withstood my attitude with patience and acceptance." I could hear the awe and love in her voice and it was something I could empathize with even without my gift. That still didn't stop the jealously building in my chest. "There's really only one clear choice."

"No disrespect, Carlisle, but I already know about the complications of my disease. I thank you for taking the time and the energy to caution me, but this is the way I feel it has to be. I don't want Jasper, after all of his hard work and dedication over the years to ever feel as if he has killed another person. I want him to feel like he's saved me – which he has done, ten times over. You see, I love Jasper as I love no one else." Carlisle gave me his understanding through the phone, his voice was laced with it. I had seen his love for Esme, and it was glorious to behold.

"There is no comparison or distinction in my love for him. If there were any other way for me to spend my eternity with him, without his having to bite me, I would take it, even if I had to burn for a year straight. I never want to cause him any pain. But seeing as there is no other route I have made my decision, and I please ask you and everyone else involved to respect my choice." Carlisle was silent, but I had pleaded with him. His soft sighs over the phone told me of his softening. He may not have agreed with my choice, but like the astounding being he was, Carlisle allowed me to choose.

"Well, my dear, you seem quite determined," his voice dripped in sadness. I nodded, knowing he couldn't see me.

"I also understand and will respect your wishes. I have watched you and my son in your time together, and I am still dazed at the change you have wrought in him. Jasper has been happy over the years, Isabella, and his love for the family is evident. However, I knew there was something missing, a piece of him that was lost. I knew that piece was returned when we met. My son has become something I have always wished for him, Isabella: simply himself." I sighed softly at his eloquent words. I wished the same thing for my love.

"He has much potential, and, over the years, he has reached that potential. But with you finally coming back into his life, he has released said potential. I have marveled at him. He is also a father, and loves Cheye with something fierce. My quiet joy in watching him with her is something I could never explain. It has made me love him all the more, and that's something I thought impossible, because my love for him is already so full. But I was happy to have been shown differently." I sobbed into the phone. How could Jasper not have flourished under Carlisle's love? I knew he attributed Jasper's change mostly to me, but he was wrong. Carlisle loved Jasper like me, unconditionally.

"I also love you, little love. You, Isabella – coming into the family – added a whole other dynamic. We were blessed before you came and are even more blessed to have you among the Cullen's. You bring love and much acceptance into our lives. You show us how to be better, and love without restraint. I love you like a daughter, Isabella. For you see, you are my daughter; a very beloved daughter."

"What are you saying, angel?" I asked, my voice filled with trepidation and an underlying hope. I quickly sat up before caressing the silkiness of her skin. Her eyes closed at the touch and a hot tear rubbed into my finger. I hadn't meant to break her out of her past memories, but my need to know was all consuming. She had to be talking about her being changed into a vampire. This had been one of the things I wanted to know with my very soul.

"Are you going to allow me to change you, Isabella?" I finally asked, mustering up the courage. My face must have shined with a joy that I hadn't felt in a while. I looked into my girl's deep, murky eyes, memorizing the green that almost disappeared in the fathomless depths.

"No, Jasper," was her scratchy reply.

Author's Notes: Okay, loves, no hisses, and absolutely no bitching me out . . . LOL. I know I left you lovely readers with a big cliffy (that sounds terribly dirty), however, I will be posting again within a few days, and that is the honest truth. The chapter is all but written.

So other than the fact you would like to ring my neck (don't get an ideas . . . LOL) what did you think of the chapter, and I don't only mean the very end? I loved how tender Jasper was with Bella. Even though he is spitting mad at her, his care and endless love cannot be swallowed by said madness. Wouldn't we all be lucky to have such an amazing partner in our lives (*sighs happily*).

Anyway, thanks for the reviews for last chapter, loves. They always make my day. I hope all is well with everyone! Much love to all!

Posted: Saturday, 1 October 2011