A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and is still sticking with me. This chapter is shorter but I promise I make up for it in the next chapter. We are doing a bit of a time jump here. And I would like to reiterate that I am not a cop or a lawyer or the like. That I did some research and thats how I came to the conclusion of his charges and/or sentencing. I am sure it is wrong, but its just for fun. Please enjoy it for what it is.

Thanks as always to HopelessRomantic79 for her beta skills

Chapter 7

Bella POV

I crumpled the envelope in my hand again while I looked out my kitchen window as the sun began to rise. I had yet to open it. I honestly didn't know if I wanted to. I sighed, turned and sat at the table, smoothing out the envelope as I set it down. Down in the bottom corner sat a heavy red stamp saying 'State Penitentiary'.

The letter was from Jasper.

It has been five years since I last saw him. And the letters…well, they still came much the same as they usually did. Once a month, or twice, for my birthday and holidays. They always say about the same thing, but this letter, I knew it was different. Peter had called me and let me know that date that Jasper was going to be released on and since that date was coming up fast; I had figured this letter was full of the details.

The last time I saw Jasper was right after he had been sentenced, five years with good behavior for second degree murder with temporary insanity. That day at the prison, with glass separating us and the hard plastic of the phone pressed against my ear, we got into a nasty fight. I was upset and scared, rightfully so, but he was too, and I couldn't see it. I was rather self-absorbed around the time of the trial and sentencing. It took many years of therapy for me to even comprehend the gravity of the situation and what I could do about it. How to heal, how to see things from Jasper's side, and whether or not I wanted a divorce or not. I mean, hell, we were only together for a year before it all happened.

Peter and Charlotte made me get out of bed and go to the prison with them to visit him. I still hadn't made my mind up yet whether I even wanted anything to do with him anymore. I love him still, Lord knows I do. But he killed a man, the man that killed our child. I should be grateful. I should be happy knowing that James can never come back and hurt me, but I would have rather had James be the one in jail than Jasper.

I looked down at the envelope in my hands and knew I couldn't really put it off any longer. He was still my husband; I never bothered with getting a divorce. I loved him, but I didn't know if it could be enough. The last five years had been tough. I went through various stages of major depression, not eating, not sleeping, not working, and living off what little money I got from Jasper's share of the business. It still pissed me off that he set it up that way to take care of me from prison. And I feel guilty for using the money, but in all honesty, I wasn't mentally all there. I couldn't get out of bed let alone work. I spent many years just mentally and emotionally… fucked up, for lack of a better word. It's like I needed to hit the reset button, but I could never find it. So I was stuck in a state of limbo for many years.

And now he was coming home.

Not to our apartment, no. I had moved his stuff out into Peter's storage years ago. I couldn't stand to see it every day. So Jasper was moving in with Peter and Charlotte and their twin girls, Lucy Mae and Lindsay Kate. But I didn't know where it left us because for the last five years, I've been too afraid to open up to Jasper. For the first year, I received two or three letters a week from him. Then it dwindled down to only once a week, then every other week, then to only once a month. I've written back 15 times over the last five years, and all short missives, his birthday, our anniversary and Christmas. I haven't gone and seen him once, even though Peter goes every week.

My hands shook as I ripped open the envelope, much like you would a band aid, and decided to get it over with.

Dear Bella,

I hope you are reading this. I have no idea anymore whether or not you actually even open these, if my actions are fruitless or not. I at least know you get all the letters since none of yet to be returned to me, but even Peter says you don't talk with them much anymore, just about the girls. I hope you are alright. I pray that you are. I'm afraid for you. All alone in our apartment, although really, it is your apartment now. Peter told me long ago that you moved my stuff out. Does that mean you moved me out of your heart too? Because Bella, I still love you like yesterday was our wedding day. I don't think anything is going to change that, but one word from you will silence me. You tell me you honestly don't want anything to do with me anymore and I'll let you go, I'll let you move on. But to be honest, I am hoping you don't, as selfish as that is.

I still get your standard letters every year, but I don't know how comforting they have been. You sound…lonely. You don't ever talk about your life, nor do you ever answer any of my questions. You're vague but to the point. I really don't want to know how your parents are doing, or where they are going for vacation. And I don't need the same information about Peter, Char and their girls repeated back to me when I hear it every week from him. I want to hear about you. How you are doing. No sugar coating, no rainbows and flowers. I want the hard stuff. I need to know if you are living or just surviving because, baby, you deserve so much more than that and I don't know if I'll ever be able to apologize enough for that.

I am in a much better place than I was when…well…let's just say 'back then'. They had me seeing a shrink in here. He was a nice guy. He got me to admit to things I never even thought of and really helped me work through what I did to both James and you…and to myself really. I've mentioned him in past letters, but again, I don't know if you even read them.

Anyway, I am getting released on the 18th. Peter said he was going to pick me up. I wanted to ask you to, so bad, but I didn't know if you would and my shrink said that it was probably not a good idea to put you on the spot like that. I want to see you so bad it hurts. But I will wait until you are ready. If you want to come see me at Peter and Charlotte's, that's fine. You want me to come to you, I can do that. Hell, if the diner is even still around we could meet there, as long as I get to see you. I'll jump through whatever hoops I have to just to prove myself to you. I love you and want that future we had planned together. I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy. But if you have moved on and that's why you haven't written me back much… please end my misery now and tell me. It'll be hard, and picking up the pieces will be no easy task, but Peter and Charlotte will be there for me, as they are for you. Please remember that. You are not alone. I know you don't get along with your folks that well, that you never really saw eye to eye, but do know that me, Peter, and Charlotte will always be there to help you no matter the situation.

I love you Bella, and I pray every day that I'll get to see your smiling face again.

Love,

Your Jasper

I folded in on myself as I set his letter down, tears streaming down my face. I sobbed, my tears blotting out the words on his latest letter like I had held the note out in the pouring rain.

He thought I had moved on? No. I never did. I never even tried. I read every one of his letters, most filled with mundane things like the stuff he learned in school, or a book he read. But I read every single one. But I didn't ever know what to write back. What would I tell him?

Dear Jasper, my life sucks. I don't eat, I don't sleep, I don't work, I don't do anything. Getting out of bed in the morning hurts and I miss you so much that sometimes it doesn't even feel like that part of my life was real. I'm homesick for a home and life that doesn't exist anymore. I was given a taste only to have it wrenched away from me.

No, I couldn't do that. I couldn't focus on any one task besides breathing. For so long, all that existed to me was the loss. The loss of my child, husband, job…. life. It felt like I died. And sometimes I wanted to, but there was always that little nagging voice in the back of my head telling me that it wasn't over yet. And I couldn't send that in a letter to him. I know he deserved so much more than the little bit of contact I gave him, but I wasn't ready yet. It took years for me to get to the place I was now. A place that both my psychiatrist and I felt comfortable with.

I was pretty sure I was ready to see him. I know that there is no way that things could go back to the way they were, but I didn't mean we couldn't try. I never gave up; I just had a hard time getting to the point where I was emotionally stable enough to try. And I knew that Jasper still wanted to try, but would that all change after he got out and saw what my life had become?

A/N: Oh, and I should have put this up ages ago (I always forget to remember to) but this story will have a Happily Ever After. I seriously can't write a story where they don't end up that way. Longer than normal teaser of the next chapter to those who review. Thanks!