"Good morning, mi amor. I've missed you so much," Maria lilts, breaking the silence of the dimmed bedroom. "No, I've been up. I'm about to go downstairs to make a cup of coffee...Mhm...I think I'll go out to lunch with Nettie and Lucy later..."

She's on the phone.

Jasper tiredly pulls the pillow over his head. It doesn't do anything to drown out the sound of her one-sided conversation or the birds chirping outside.

"Maybe we can go to the movies after dinner then. We haven't gone in a while," she continues. The words sound like they're being spoken in slow motion. Jasper wishes he couldn't hear them.

She does this often. Talking on the phone with her boyfriend while he's around. Jasper never says anything. Surely she's not doing it to be intentionally cruel. On the contrary, she's been quite kind to Jasper lately. They spent the majority of the weekend together.

She's ecstatic at how much business he did in the past month. He fixed some issues with their biggest supplier and added five undergrads to their team. She can pay off her new car and the house she just bought in full with how much they made.

She was so pleased, in fact, that last night she rewarded him with some MDMA and a demonstration of her oral prowess that left him feeling like maybe she does think of him as more than just a friend—more than just a work partner.

"You're on your way home from the airport now?" she asks surprisedly, hitting Jasper's arm to rouse him. "Perfect! Oh, I'm so happy! I'll tell the girls I can't come. Okay, see you soon, corazón mio."

She hangs up the phone and Jasper starts to get up, his head throbbing. He feels more dehydrated than euphoric now that he's had time to come down from the high.

"You need to leave. Now." She throws his shirt and jeans at him roughly. "Benito's going to be home in fifteen."

"Okay, I'm going," he says, standing to get dressed. His body isn't moving as quickly as usual. It feels like he's being weighed down by water. He looks around for his phone and finds it on the floor under the bed with his keys.

Maria rolls open the window blinds and the harsh, Texas sun beams in. He shields his eyes with his hand. It's so bright.

"You'd better hurry and get your car off the street," she reminds him. "He'll kill you if he sees you here."

Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter.

The sound of rain hitting the window is the first thing Jasper hears as he slowly drifts back to consciousness. He wakes in a cold sweat, sober, and tense.

Dreamy images of green palm trees, freshly mowed lawns, and blaring summer heat fade from his mind. The taste of cheap, musky tequila lingers on his tongue despite him not having touched the stuff in months.

It feels like a lifetime ago since he was last at Maria's house. He spent a lot of time there over the years, but he can't imagine going back now. Not after what's been said and done.

His bedroom is dark and dreary, but that doesn't mean much in Seattle. It's dark for the vast majority of winter, regardless of the time of day.

Alice's Christmas present sits on his desk, neatly wrapped in a small box covered in red paper.

Finding something he thought she would like proved more difficult than anticipated. She seems to have everything and anything she could ever want, so what does that leave?

With the help of the shop assistant and the money left over from selling his car, he decided on getting her a quarter-carat diamond on a sixteen-inch white gold chain.

He hopes she'll like it. He hasn't given her anything like it before. He hasn't given anyone anything like this before.

While things seem to be going well with Alice, he's still not quite sure how to define their relationship. It feels both casual and serious. New, but comfortable. He's afraid to ask what she's wanting out of it because he definitely has a preference in the matter.

It's the first time he's met someone with whom he's had more fun while sober than not. She's kind to him when she doesn't have to be. She's supportive and understanding even when he's certain he doesn't have a single redeeming quality to offer her.

It's more than wanting to be with her or wanting her to be happy. He wants to be okay for her. He wants to be coherent, present, and alive for her.

While he hasn't told her everything, he's shared a good deal more of his secrets and internal struggles with her than he has anyone else. It's a level of transparency he isn't used to.

He hasn't felt like this about anyone before. It feels like what he imagines love is supposed to feel like.

Jasper remembers that Peter and Charlotte are away on a trip to Portland for the week, so the apartment is unusually quiet. He likely slept in later than anticipated.

He needs to get out of bed and start getting ready.

He checks his phone and sees Rosalie texted him an hour ago asking when she should pick him up. He texts her that he'll be ready soon.

He doesn't want to keep Alice waiting.

...

"Merry Christmas, Rose," Jasper says, getting into the car and handing Rosalie a wrapped present.

She frowns and feels the slightest prickle of guilt in her chest. "I didn't get you anything."

He shrugs. "It's fine."

She unwraps the box and inside is a red wool scarf and a four-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle of a Monet garden painting. She doesn't hate it. Red is her favorite color. Puzzles have become quite popular recently with her coworkers at the hospital because they supposedly reduce stress. It's a thoughtful gift, but it also makes her wonder if she's not as good at hiding her emotional instability as she hoped.

"Thanks," she says. "I've been needing a new scarf."

"Did either of them call this morning?"

He must mean their parents. "No. Did they call you?" she asks.

"Nah, I don't think they even have my number anymore." He settles back in his seat. "I would have thought they'd stay in touch with you, though."

She sighs. "Mother's been leaving me voicemails every couple weeks telling me I need to come back home, but I don't want to talk to them."

"Fair enough."

She glances over at him. He looks like he's been sleeping some and his voice isn't as dreary and flat as it had been the two months they lived together.

"What?" he asks, noticing the silent appraisal.

"Are you going to get your hair cut soon? Or are you just going to let it keep growing until it's like mine?" she quips. Even if he no longer has to for school, she's used to him keeping it cropped in a military-appropriate style. He must not have had it trimmed since before he was expelled because it's a shaggy chin-length now.

He laughs and shrugs.

After listening to three different versions of Jinglebell Rock on the radio, they're on the east side of town.

Emmett informed her ahead of time that Edward and Bella won't be joining them, which is a Christmas gift in and of itself. She won't have to deal with their bizarre drama or bickering today.

She grabs the stack of presents for Emmett, Esme, and Carlisle from the trunk and locks the car.

To her surprise, the front door opens before she or Jasper make it up the driveway.

"Good morning! Merry Christmas!" Alice greets. She's dressed in a cream-colored Chanel mini dress; it looks both vintage and like it's never been worn. Rosalie wonders how much it cost. "Oh, did you get your hair done, Rosalie? It looks good!"

"Merry Christmas. Yeah. I got a trim and had the highlights brought up a little," Rosalie replies as she walks inside.

"Very cute!"

"Rosalie and Jasper! You made it!" Esme sings out from the couch. She's sitting with Carlisle and a blond woman Rosalie doesn't recognize. "I think you've met Tanya, Kate, and Irina already?"

Seated around the TV Rosalie spots the other two models from Alice's show and Emmett. The Grinch is playing on the large flatscreen.

"Tanya and I met Rosalie," Kate clarifies. She motions to the blond woman. "This is Irina, our sister. We live over in West Seattle. We're old family friends of Carlisle's. We met at his father's church years ago."

Rosalie sets the presents she brought down by the tree and stands across the couch, joining the group. "It's nice to meet you. I work with Carlisle at the hospital."

"And we're dating," Emmett butts in, getting up from the couch to bear hug her.

"Oh, how cute!" Tanya says with a smile. "Everyone's just finding love this year, aren't they? First Edward, then Kate, and now you two..."

"What happened to the Aussie you were seeing?" Irina asks. Her brows raise in surprise.

"Ugh. I'll tell you later. Real unfortunate situation." Tanya pulls a face. "Who was the tall guy that just went upstairs with Alice?"

"Yeah, who was that?" Kate laughs. "She would be the one to go for a guy twice her size."

Irina hits her sister's arm playfully, stifling a giggle.

Rosalie looks around and sees that her brother's disappeared without her noticing—not that she particularly cares what he does.

"That's Jasper. He and Rosalie are twins," Esme answers cheerfully. "He's a student over at the university, and he's graduating in the same class as Emmett and Edward."

"And he's my new best friend," Emmett adds.

The comment causes Carlisle to raise a brow. "What about Edward?"

"I can have two best friends, but he doesn't need to know that. Shhh."

"Aw, what about Carlisle?" asks Irina.

"Carli's my sugar daddy." Emmett snorts. "He knows this."

The horrified grimace on Carlisle's face makes Rosalie laugh so hard her ribs hurt. She's dating an idiot.

...

"I know we said no gifts, but I got you something," Edward says, handing Bella the card he picked out last week.

They're outside of her father's house in Forks. It's a small town, and the house is similarly small. The chipped paint and slightly overgrown lawn give it a down-to-earth, homey feel.

She looks over at the envelope in his hands like it's a bomb that's going to blow up. "You really didn't have to," she says before knocking on the front door.

"I wanted to. It's small, don't worry about it. Open it."

She tears the paper open and pulls out the book store gift certificate. "It's two hundred dollars." Her brows pull together. "Take it back. That's too much."

"No, it's for you."

"No, I—" The door opens and Bella shoves the card in her coat pocket. "Charlie!"

Charlie smiles. "Bells, it's been too long."

Edward stands under the porch awning of the small house, watching as Bella hugs her father happily. It's good to see her so vibrant around family. She mentioned her father is the town's chief of police, and that her parents divorced when she was young, but he doesn't know much beyond that.

The older man seems stern. Gruff. A real man's man.

He's about the same height as Edward with dark, wavy hair that's starting to grey and a fair complexion like Bella's.

"This is Edward," Bella says, introducing him. "Edward, this is Charlie."

"Come on in, you two," her father says to them. "Here, I'll take your jacket, Edward."

"Thanks, Sir," he replies nervously.

"Call me Charlie."

"Right. Will do, Sir—um, Charlie." His palms are sweaty. He hopes he'll be able to make a good first impression, but so far, he feels like he's coming off like a dork.

"Have a seat," Charlie says. "I hear you're getting my girl to go hiking and play baseball."

Edward takes a seat at the only chair in the living room. Bella gives him a dirty look as she sits on the couch across from him.

He winks back at her.

"Yes, she's been a real trooper. She even made it halfway down the slopes when we went to Whistler," he enthuses.

Charlie laughs and takes a seat next to Bella. "Well, more power to you! That's certainly a feat for Bells here."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm clumsy. We get it." Her cheeks are pink with embarrassment. It's quite endearing.

"I'm glad you're trying new things at college. You make your old man proud," Charlie praises. The comment makes her perk up a little. "So tell me about yourself, Edward. Bella just mentioned you two have been dating and that you're into athletics."

Edward guesses he's being polite. Surely a police chief—even of a small town—would have heard the news of his parents' passing three years ago. If he didn't already know, he could easily run a background check. Ten seconds on Google would give anyone a detailed picture.

"My family's from Chicago, but I grew up in Seattle. I'm studying law and piano at the University of Washington. Bella and I met in a literature class last quarter" he summarizes. "I'm set to graduate early and will register to take the Bar exam in July. I'll be applying to internships between now and then, but I have a good idea of where I'll be working come fall.

"Good for you. Seems like you've got it all figured out.," Charlie says with an approving nod.

Bella's surprised by this information. "Wait, you're graduating early?"

He thought he mentioned that before. Evidently not.

"Yeah, I took classes the past two summers and have been averaging 18 credits each quarter," he explains. "It's my third year, but I'm a senior by credits, technically."

She seems upset by this knowledge, though he doesn't understand why.

Charlie flips on the TV and they sit in silence for a long while. A rerun of the game from last weekend plays on the outdated, boxy television screen.

It's hard to tell if her father likes him because he's not giving him much to go off of. He seems to be a man of few words with a fairly stoic demeanor.

"You a Mariners fan?" Charlie asks him.

"Yeah, I get season tickets every year."

Charlie just nods in response, satisfied with that answer.

"Are Jake and Billy coming over?" Bella asks.

Edward hasn't heard those names before, but maybe they're her father's friends.

"Nah, he and Billy are spending Christmas with Sue at the reservation. I saw them last night for dinner. I think Jake's planning on touring UW. He said he's thinking of going to school in Seattle, too."

Bella smiles. "Oh, wow. Yeah, that would be awesome."

So Jake's in high school, Edward realizes. Or planning on going to college soon, at least.

"Uh-huh. He says he misses seeing you," Charlie tells her.

Edward feels jealousy rise in his chest. Is Jake an ex-boyfriend? An admirer? A friend? Have they kissed, too? He doesn't want to imagine it. He pinches the bridge of his nose and rakes a hand through his hair with a sigh.

"Jake's great. You should meet him sometime, Edward," Bella says happily. "I feel like you'd get along well!"

...

"This is where the magic happens," Emmett says, opening the door to his room.

Rosalie follows him in, looking around with a critical eye.

The space looks lived-in but decently clean. His desk is covered in stacks of textbooks that look recently purchased, and a letterman jacket is draped across the back of the chair. There are a couple of photos of him with friends and teammates taped to the closet door and a sports bag on the floor. The built-in shelf along the wall is stacked with boxes labeled with Dior, YSL, and countless other high-end, couture designers.

"And by magic, I mean where I sleep and where Alice stores her offseason handbags," he elaborates. "She moved most of it back upstairs, but apparently it won't all fit in her closet. She pays half my rent in exchange, so I can't complain."

Rosalie sits down on his bed, relieved he has a simple navy blue bedspread rather than something obnoxious like dinosaurs or space ships.

They finished eating brunch and opening presents hours ago. She gave Emmett a new hoodie and he got her a movie theater gift card so they could go see something together. Esme and Carlisle gifted her a fleece half-zip jacket and a throw blanket, both of which are very cute.

Her brother and his scrawny, designer-clad girlfriend came back downstairs halfway through the gift exchange empty-handed. Alice was somehow even more over-the-top bubbly than usual if that's possible.

Rosalie's feeling fatigued from all the socializing. After several rounds of Pictionary, a couple of glasses of wine, and watching a made-for-TV version of A Christmas Carol, the sun set and the festivities finally began to die down. An afternoon nap would be a welcome relief.

Emmett sits down on the bed too and wraps his arms around her. "I haven't seen nearly enough of you lately. You're always working or busy."

"I am always working or busy," she fibs, knowing she's been blowing him off a good portion of the time too. She isn't used to someone being so enthusiastically affectionate to her. It's overwhelming at times, though she supposes that it's probably normal for plenty of people.

"But not today." He grins. She's met with a barrage of poorly-aimed kisses to the general vicinity of her face and neck, causing her to squirm and laugh.

"Em!"

"I'm showing you just how much I missed you."

His smile makes her melt a little, and she feels herself smiling back.

He leans his weight into her and they fall back onto the mattress. They kiss and she lets him slide his hands under her shirt. His warm palms move against her much cooler skin.

She's feeling very high-spirited between the buzz from the Malbec, Emmett's attention, and the general jolly holiday spirit that's punctuated the day.

He tugs off his shirt. Her hands trace over his rippling muscles, admiring the feel.

He starts to unbutton her jeans. A pang of anxiety hits her as she hears the metal zipper teeth come undone.

Rosalie wishes she had another glass of wine. That would help. She tries to push the feeling aside. If she neglects it, then maybe it'll go away this time.

He undoubtedly wants her, and she wants him back. She's sick of putting her life on hold because of some stupid emotional hang-ups.

She starts to shimmy out of her denim. Emmett's hand lifts her thigh, helping her out of them. The small gesture seems to set off another swell of panic in her.

Pulling. Tearing. A choking grip presses down on her neck.

Sounds of revelry echo through her Rochester loft. Royce's barking voice.

She's worthless. Nothing. No one. He makes sure to tell her so, slapping her across the cheek as if to prove his point.

Minutes feel like hours as she squeezes her eyes shut and prays that it'll end. She'd rather die than have to continue with him shoving and pushing at her rapidly bruising skin, taking anything he can from her.

Flinching away, she pulls her hands back into herself and tries to sit up.

She's met with resistance, though not intentionally. Emmett's body is just in the way, and she can't seem to get him to budge.

He lets her up after noticing her apparent distress.

She can't breathe. Her lungs feel like they can't get enough air. It burns.

"Are you okay?" he asks her, but she can barely hear his words. Her skin prickles and tingles. She feels nauseous. "Rosalie?"

She puts her head between her knees to stop the dizziness and ringing in her ears. "Sorry, I...don't think I'm feeling well," she says through labored breaths.

"Can I get you anything?" she hears him ask in a muffled voice.

"No...No...I think I just drank too much, maybe. It's fine." A mixture of unexpected fear and self-loathing overwhelm her. "It's been a long day and I'm kind of tired. I need to lie down for a moment."