-MAISIE-


"Spiked coffee on your wedding day?" Alice asked, sniffing delicately over my mug. "I'm shocked at your degeneracy."

"Save it for your brother," I quipped, taking a sip. "Emmett made it for me, before you kicked everyone out of the house."

"I only kicked them off the upstairs portion of the house." She corrected me demurely, taking up her brush and beginning to work the tangles out of my hair. "There's plenty of work to keep them all occupied downstairs."

I sat obedient under Alice's ministrations, clad only in a silk robe, at her bidding. Any further qualms she had over my drinking on the morning of the wedding were kept to herself. Emmett had recognized the need for some liquid courage in my face, prompting him to pour a decent amount of illegally obtained whiskey into the cup. Fortified with alcohol rather than sugar, of course the coffee wasn't to Alice's liking.

Unlike myself, Alice was already wedding ready. Her hair framed her face in soft curls, her eyes done up with a silver, shimmery shadow that stood in stark contrast to her dark eyes. Alice hadn't been feeding as often as she should have been, as preoccupied with wedding preparations as she had let herself become. Her dress was a jewel-toned teal, strappy and satiny as it hugged her lithe frame.

She hummed while she worked on my hair, a wandering tune that was oddly comforting in its lack of words. That is, until the tune abruptly ended.

"Maisie," Alice hissed suddenly, cutting herself off. "Your mother."

"My mom?!" I asked, but a moment later, I could hear her footsteps on the stairs. "Why is she in the house?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Alice snapped. She hated to be taken off guard, and Jett's very existence rendered her blind. Edward would have been useful at the moment, if he weren't busy erecting a wedding arch in the backyard with Jasper and Emmett.

"Fuck," I muttered, using the mirror to look behind Alice. The door opened to reveal my mom bracketed in the doorway, hesitating. I met her eye in the mirror but couldn't quite read the expression there. "Hi, Mom."

"Hello, Maisie." Her tone held a note of distanced formality. "Esme said you girls were up here getting ready."

She looked around at Alice's assortment of expensive makeup and her hair styling tools. I set my coffee mug on the floor under my stool, paranoid my mother would smell the alcohol in it. If she had any opinions on the neutral smoky eye and rose petal lips Alice had already given me, she didn't share. Instead, she watched as Alice artfully brought a flush of color to my wan cheeks. Her face softened as she did so, some of the icy resolve melting away.

"You look lovely, Maisie." I could tell she meant it, even if she still hovered at arm's length in the doorway.

"Thanks, Mom. My dress is in my bedroom if you want to see it. It's the room with the closed door." Closed against any chance Jasper would see my dress before I was revealed at the ceremony. He had strict instructions to stay out of the house, under duress of his own wellbeing should he defy Alice. Rose was in charge of Jett until the ceremony as an extra safeguard and to eliminate any excuse of Jasper coming back inside. His and Gunner's clothing was at Edward's, even.

I watched the reflection of my mother still, her body rigid as her eyes widened in shock. I guess she wasn't expecting an olive branch. Neither was I; the words came out before I thought to say them. I meant them, though, and I guess she realized that after a beat. She met my eye in the mirror and nodded, her mouth wobbling into an almost-smile.

I felt myself deflate as soon as she slipped from view. Alice tactfully followed my movements, somehow managing to avoid burning me with her curling iron as I sagged. She carefully rolled the curl and pinned it to my head to cool before whispering, "Do you want me to ask her to go?"

"No," I decided immediately. "Let her stay. It might be good for both of us."

After Alice had arranged my hair into a mass of pinned, setting curls, we went into my bedroom to get me into my dress. Mom did up the buttons down my back while Alice fussed over the front. She fluffed my skirt and tugged at my sleeves, adjusting the bodice to lay flush with my skin.

"Alice, you made this dress entirely on your own?" Mom asked, finishing the last button and coming around the front to inspect me. I caught the quirk of her frown over the slashed neckline of the bodice and how much it exposed of my torso. She took my hand and lifted my arm, scrutinizing the lace detailing of the sleeves.

"I did." Alice didn't bother to hide her gloating. Once everything was laid to her liking, she came behind me to start pulling pins from my hair. "Maisie was kind enough to let me use her as a bridal template."

"By that she means she made me stand still for hours and hours so I could be her living mannequin." In response to this, Alice jabbed a pin at my scalp before withdrawing it. She was in a buoyant mood for the wedding, at least, and wouldn't allow me to complain at all.

"And you look magnificent for it, doesn't she, Mrs. Thompson?"

Mom was quiet for a while, watching Alice arrange my hair in a half-up style for my veil. Alice had crafted a frothy veil that floated ethereally around my shoulders, the pins hidden by the addition of fresh wildflowers that I was almost certain she had picked herself.

"You make the most beautiful bride, Maisie," Mom said, her voice sounding choked. I dropped my gaze, blushing, and blinked back my own tears. Luckily, there was the distraction of my shoes for me to focus on. Thank God, Alice had hemmed my skirt so that I could wear flats. They were white beaded silk and much more stable for me to walk on soft, spring dirt than heels would have been. I felt like a little girl playing dress up as Alice fussed over me, making sure each detail was perfect.

From downstairs, the clear, pretty notes of Edward's piano playing drifted up to us. Not the traditional 'Here Comes the Bride', but something light and romantic; the traditional wedding song wasn't my cue, anyway. Edward had played Johan Pachelbel's Canon in D for me the night before, so I would know when I was supposed to start my walk down the aisle. "I think we had best get you to your seat, Mrs. Thompson. I'll send your dad up now that you're ready, Maisie."

I hadn't even talked to Dad about walking me down the aisle, but it didn't matter. Alice had taken Mom firmly by the elbow and was ushering her out of the room before I could say anything. For someone so small, Alice was definitely a force to be reckoned with.

Even before I met Jasper, when I though of my far-off wedding, Ava was always my flower girl. Obviously, that wasn't going to happen today. My heart ached at this truth, squeezing hard in my chest. I looked around my bedroom for a distraction and found it in my reflection.

In my brief respite of privacy, I took the opportunity to inspect myself in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of the door. I looked like the snow itself, my dress shimmering with tiny jewels even under the artificial light inside. Alice's expert hand had turned me into a blushing bride, my hair framing my face in soft, voluminous curls.

All of Rosalie's weddings must have been good practice for her.

Dad was taking forever, or at least it felt that way. It was definitely long enough for doubts to start filling my head. What if Alice is wrong about the weather? The thought made my heart squeeze; I hiked up my skirt and rushed to the window to pull back the curtains. A quick peek out the window reassured me that the sky was hidden behind heavy cloud cover, thick and white as cotton, faintly luminous with the spring sun behind it. The vampiric side of my family would be safe, then.

The door opened while I was at the window, revealing my father in a tux that was suspiciously expensive-looking and well-fitted.

"Trying to sneak a peek, Maisie Daisy?" He teased, just as I asked, "Alice got to you, too, huh?"

Dad's face turned bashful and boyish, making him look startlingly like Gunner for a moment. He gave me a shrug. "She's a persistent girl," he admitted. "After Jasper asked me fill the role, she made a little visit back to Forks before taking up residency in Alaska to make your dress."

"Jasper asked you to walk me down the aisle?" With tensions running high in my family, I hadn't had the courage to reach out to my father myself. I had assumed it was Alice's doing—as the wedding planner, she had spent weeks both keeping me largely in the dark and ensuring every detail was perfect. It hadn't occurred to me that it might have been Jasper, though. I closed my eyes, taking a small moment to thank the universe for the man I was about to marry.

"He didn't want you to miss out on the experience, he said," Dad explained. His smile turned sardonic. "And I guess I'm just not as brave as Gunner, to invite myself into the wedding party."

I laughed at that, and for the first time since coming into the room, Dad really looked at me and took in the results of Alice's efforts. Just like with Mom, his eyes took on a watery quality. He blinked back the tears and coughed to clear his throat. "Your mom wasn't exaggerating when she said you look beautiful," he told me, making my own throat constrict. Canon in D started downstairs, saving me from the threat of waterworks. "That's us, right? We'd better go before Edward finishes the song."

I grabbed my bouquet—made from the same wildflowers as the ones Alice had tucked into my hair—and slipped my hand into Dad's elbow. He helped me lift my skirt as we went down the stairs, so I would neither trip nor tear it.

Our backyard was completely transformed, thanks to the combined efforts of Alice, Rose, and Esme, not to mention the free labor provided by Jasmine, Carlisle, and the boys. At the end of an aisle made of wildflower petals, Jasper stood under an elegantly carved wedding arch made of white wood. My family and the Cullens—our only wedding guests—bracketed either side of the aisle in chairs that looked to be fine antiques, likely carefully chosen by Esme. Akin to Emmett and Rose's most recent wedding, someone had wrapped the backyard trees in twinkling fairy lights. Even the patches of lingering spring snow looked intentional, adding to the simple elegance.

The ceremony and vows were traditional—a huge surprise, considering Emmett was the officiant. Jasper was strikingly handsome at the end of the aisle, his usually messy collar-length hair pushed back and tamed. He wore a black tux, whereas Gunner and my dad wore sooty gray versions. Jett—who was happily watching everything from the comfort of Gunner's arms—wore a miniature replica of Jasper's wedding attire. Jett, Jasper, and Gunner all smiled widely at me as I approached with Dad.

"Thank you," Jasper said, his honeyed voice imbued with warmth and genuine gratitude as Dad placed my hand in his.

"I expect you to take good care of her, young man," Dad told him, his voice gruff with emotion.

"Always," Jasper answered smoothly. They exchanged a nod before Dad took his seat beside Mom and Ava. Jasper clasped my fingers in his, running his thumb reassuringly over my knuckles. He had agreed not to alter my mood intentionally; Jasper and I were so close that our moods always bled into the other's, with no way to stop it. Even now, I could feel the summer sun warmth of his love. I was sure he could feel the complicated mix of nerves, excitement, love, sadness, and a healthy dose of fear.

Alice had reassured me over and over that her visions concerning the weather were accurate, but with the blind spots that Jett created, I was terrified she was wrong. Should the sun come out…

Jasper gave my hand a gentle squeeze, bringing my attention back to Emmett so I could say my vows. I said my piece—to have and to hold, in sickness and in health—and slipped the ring on Jasper's finger. He did the same for me, adding a simple gold band to my engagement ring. Though Jett had a little ringbearer's pillow that he was chewing on, Gunner had wisely kept our rings in his pocket.

When Emmett declared us husband and wife and gave Jasper permission to kiss me, he did so with such tenderness that I could have cried if I wasn't certain Alice would kill me for ruining my makeup. He cupped my face gently between his hands, pressing his lips softly to mine. To an outward observer, the first kiss of our marriage was a demure one.

Not a single soul in attendance could feel what I had felt in that kiss, though. I was certain no one else had a heavy, liquid warmth settle low in their belly, or a fluttering lightness in their chest. The mingled rush of love, desire, relief, and pride left me dizzy by the time Jasper pulled away from me. It took a moment for me to come back to myself, to hear Alice and Gunner's congratulatory shouts, Ava's giddy giggling, and the mutual, loud clapping of the others.

Jett was laughing, too, but also showing his jealous streak. He was leaning out of Gunner's arms, reaching for me. I tossed my bouquet at Ava to free my hands and took Jett from Gunner. Jasper took my free hand once Jett was settled on my hip, happily inspecting my veil. We walked back down the aisle of wildflowers as a family our own little family of three, retreating back into our house for a moment of privacy before the pictures and reception could start. I cradled Jett to my shoulder, not caring that he was crumpling my veil in his tiny hands, and inhaled the sweet, clean scent of his head.

Jasper kissed me on the forehead before tucking an errant strand of hair behind my ear. I took a deep breath, the exhale coming out in a shaky sigh. "We really did it, huh?" I asked with a big smile. "We're really married."

"Officially so," Jasper murmured his agreement, slipping Jett out of my arms. With his free hand, he took one of his and spun me slowly around. A soft smile played at his lips, his eyes bright and liquid gold.

"Stop it before you make Edward blush," I chided him softly. He drew me in for another kiss, this one much slower and deeper than our kiss at the altar. It was interrupted by Jett, duly bored by his parents' show of affection. He wiggled and squawked at us, trying to work his way out of Jasper's hold. His father obliged him, setting Jett down to crawl where he may, before turning his attention back to me.

"I haven't said or done anything untoward…" he defended himself, miming innocence. That is, until the end, when his mouth slanted into a smirk. "Mrs. Whitlock."

Though I blushed at my new name—though, as far as my family was concerned, I was now Maisie Hale—I didn't let Jasper sway me from my scolding. "Even I can practically hear your thoughts," I told him, giving him a good-natured bat on the arm. "You're lucky Edward hasn't burst to flames."

"He's not nearly the prude you all take him for," Jasper murmured in my ear before sweeping my veil and hair alike over my shoulder and out of his way so that he could press a kiss to my throat. "Your hearing is enhanced, but not to that extent, mi amor."

Ignoring the way my pulse jumped at his touch. Now was neither the place nor time; besides, if we left Jett to roam much longer, he would ruin his adorable baby tux. Reluctantly, I pulled away from him. I found Jett playing with a wayward bit of pliable wire behind the couch, probably dropped while transporting floral arrangements outside. He held it up for my inspection.

"Look, Mama." I pushed my skirts aside to carefully bend and scoop him off the floor.

"Not the best toy, Bubs." Still, I didn't bother taking it from him. Instead, I just bent the ends back on themselves to keep him from jabbing himself with them. While he played, I dusted him off just to be safe, even though he still looked immaculate. I made a mental note to ask Alice what she had pressed his clothing with. There wasn't a single wrinkle from wear. Highly impressive, considering how active Jett insisted on being during his waking hours.

With him firmly on place on my hip again, I peeked outside. Alice was an excellent wedding coordinator. Already, the outdoors was transitioned from ceremony to reception. My parents, Carlisle, and Esme all had fluted glasses of champagne. I wondered how much of that champagne Carlisle and Esme would actually sip and how much they would discreetly pour out when my parents were distracted.

"Ready to finish our wedding?" I asked Jasper, trying to tamp down my anxiety. This afternoon would be the last time I was with my family. Of course, the flare of nerves didn't escape Jasper's notice. He trailed the back of his hand soothingly along my cheek before taking my hand to lead me back outside.


Is this what human food tastes like for them? I couldn't taste the steak dinner at my wedding reception, though apparently it was good, if the appreciative noises my dad made over it was any indication. It was dry in my mouth, reminding me of cardboard.

"Yes," Edward breathed the word from three tables away, but I knew he was answering my unspoken question. He did this with his entire family, including myself since I had moved to Alaska with Jasper a handful of years ago. All of us were desensitized to the one-sided—at least in the verbal sense—conversations that Edward would carry with others.

Beside him, with her hair braided and stylishly arranged over one shoulder, Jasmine sat unbothered by Edward's speaking. She made a pretty picture beside Edward, the deep wine color of her dress bringing out the bronze tones in her hair. The other siblings sat with them; Emmett and Rosalie across the table, and Alice to the side. Rose wore red, her dress strapless but her shoulders wrapped in a shall in a good show of unneeded protection against the spring chill.

Esme and Carlisle sat with my parents at the table closest to us. Despite the stiff set of Mom's shoulders, Esme was keeping her engaged in conversation with a steady stream of soft, genuine questions. Gunner, Leah, and Ava sat at the table in between. I could tell from the smug grin on Ava's face that she considered this seating arrangement a considerable step-up from her usual designation at what constituted the kiddie table at events.

The cake tasted just the same as dinner. A real shame; Esme had outdone herself. My fork slid through the moist layers with amazing ease, and I could smell the vanilla cake and raspberry filling, yet it tasted like nothing on my tongue. Luckily, it didn't go to waste. Ava ate three pieces, the last of which I had snuck to her after Mom had cut her off at two. Jett, likewise, had more than his fair share of the cake. Thankfully, white icing didn't show too terribly on his white dress shirt.

When the evening grew late, and the cloud-filled sky began to darken, someone turned on the fairy lights covering the trees. We had a paved patio which became the dance floor. Edward played Soffia la Notte for our first dance song. Jasper had taught me the steps of the waltz weeks ago; now, he easily led me through them. I felt like I was gliding on air, but that likely had more to do with the champagne Gunner, Leah, and I had been sneaking for ourselves.

"How are you holding up?" Jasper asked, disguising the question with a sweet kiss to my cheek.

"I think I've gone numb," I told him honestly. The alcohol had left my head fizzy. All the easier to ignore the emotions that were almost bubbling to the surface before I could push them down again.

"I think that's the alcohol," Jasper mused, his eyes twinkling at me in the dim light.

"I think it's a good thing," I countered. Jasper didn't reply that time, but he did kiss me again, a quick brushing of lips. He wouldn't agree with me, I knew, but he wouldn't reprimand me for my coping mechanisms, either. Not tonight.

I danced with Dad, too, of course, but that was an affair of fumbling feet and much giggling on both our parts. If Dad smelled the alcohol on my breath, he made no comment. He guided me clumsily and lovingly around the patio, Esme and Jasper elegantly keeping out of our way.

"The first of my kids is married," Dad commented, his voice sounding thick in his throat.

"Well, I am the first born," I tried to joke. "It's my right to go first. But I bet those two aren't far off." I nodded my head toward Gunner and Leah. Neither one much for dancing, they were huddled together beneath one of the trees, watching instead. In her heels, Leah was taller than my brother, but he was entirely unphased as he stretched almost to his tiptoes to whisper in her ear. Leah dipped her head in turn, whispering something in response. Dad and I watched as they laughed together, smiles illuminated by the fairy lights.

When I looked back at Dad, his face had gone soft and his eyes had taken on a faraway quality. What was he remembering? I asked myself. Whatever memory had overcome him, Dad didn't share it. "Hopefully Gunner gives us some time to recover from this one, first," he jested as he came back to me. I turned my head, lest Dad see the way his joke stung, too close to the truth as it was. I looked for Jett to ground myself and spotted him across the yard with Ava. She held him aloft so that he could reach the tender, green leaves sprouting from a low branch above them. Jett batted the leaves with a tiny hand, giggling all the while. My mom stood not far off, watching the scene unfold.

It was Dad's turn to read something from my face. "You love that little boy, don't you, Maisy Daisy?"

"Yes, of course," I told him, forcing myself not to stiffen. "He's mine."

"I should have asked you before I walked you down the aisle, but you're sure, aren't you? This is the life you want?"

"It's a little late for doubts," I told him, trying again for humor. "Per the patriarchy, I no longer belong to you. I have a husband now. I don't think you even negotiated any livestock for my hand in marriage."

"My own fault," Dad agreed. "Should the winter be lean for me, your mom, and Ava, I'll only have myself to blame."

Edward's final piece of the night was drawing to a close. He finished the song with a flourish. Dad lifted my hand, pressing it to his mouth for a moment before releasing me. Someone—Alice, probably—switched on some background music to fill the void of silence left by Edward abandoning his piano. I really needed to thank him and Emmett for moving it over to our house for the wedding.

I danced with Edward and Emmett in turn. The former whispered platitudes to me, likely in an effort to calm the torrent of thoughts in my mind. Though I thought I was playing the role of young bride well, I couldn't stop my mind from wandering to what would happen tomorrow and the days after. How my family would react. How much it would hurt them. Emmett, on the other hand, decided that our dance was the perfect time to give me 'pointers' on how a proper, vampiric wedding night should transpire.

"…a whole house, Maise, the entire thing just fell to pieces around us," he recounted his prolific intimate relationship with Rosalie. My face was hot with embarrassment from it. I stepped on his foot on purpose, knowing it wouldn't hurt him, and he only laughed.

"We can't exactly afford to destroy a house shortly before embarking on our honeymoon."

"Fine, Maise, have the most boring wedding night in the history of ever," Emmett said with a shrug that did nothing to dull the mischievous sparkled in his eye. "No skin off my back."

"It might be if you don't stop talking about sex in front of my little sister," I hissed. We were hardly alone on the dance floor. Jasper had Ava on his feet, letting her cheat her way through a more simplistic waltz than the one we had danced to start off the night. She was absolutely thrilled when he spun her, the layers of her fluffy tulle skirt billowing around her legs as she laughed.

"She can't hear me." Emmett was all ease, but I wasn't. Still, he did me the small kindness of saving the rest of his story until we left the dance floor so I could get a quick drink before continuing. I did my best to ignore the sordid details he unfortunately made me privy to.

I took a turn with Ava once Jasper was done. The song we danced to was much more upbeat. I held Ava's hands in mine, mimicking her little hops and the sassy shaking of her hips. She giggled now, too, shrieking here and there when she thought I did one of her moves wrong. Our tulle skirts swished all around the other, cheeks growing sore and red from laughter. That is, until Ava suddenly stopped, the smile slipping from her face and her fingers gripping tight to my own.

"Maisie," she said, her gray eyes darkening with solemnity, "do you have to go away?"

For a just a second, I thought I might have a heart attack. My chest tightened and I felt my own smile go slack. Ava had always had an uncanny ability to just know things. She was intuitive for a little girl, but I read only innocence in her expression. And a tinge of sadness that had my own heart falling.

"It's just a honeymoon," I told her, the lie thick in my throat. "Everyone takes one after they get married."

Duly nonplussed, Ava's fair brows drew together and her lower lip jutted out. "But this is the first time I've seen you in forever," she protested. "Can't you take a honeymoon later?"

No, because if I drag my feet anymore, I'll have vampire overlords breathing down my neck. "We have to take it during the summer," I explained instead, "so we can go back to taking classes in the fall."

Lies on lies on lies. For a fraction of a second, I envied the other Cullens and how they hadn't had to play such a deceptive part with their families. But then I caught a glimpse of Jasmine, being led gracefully by Edward as another slower song began to play. These last moments I was getting with my family were her greatest wish. What a slap in the face it would be to her, my friend and now sister, to waste them.

I reached for Ava and hugged her, letting her bury her face in the lace bodice of my dress and not caring if her tears left stains behind. It would be all I had left of Ava, anyway. "What about when you come back?" She asked, the question muffled by my dress. "Can I see you then?"

"Sure, Ava," I made myself say. God, I hope my voice isn't shaking. My jaw certainly was as I forced the words out. "Of course you can."


Rosalie and Emmett took Jett for the night for us. We were leaving for our 'honeymoon' come the morning. The public story was that we were going to take advantage of the spring winds, excellent sailing weather, and go on a family excursion for our honeymoon. It fit in with the outdoorsy image that the Cullen family maintained and gave us a way to fake our deaths that would be difficult to investigate and ask questions about.

But for the night, we were alone, for one last time in our first house. Our bedroom held the sharp tang of fresh paint after we covered Jasper's map up with a fresh coat. It felt like a lifetime ago that he had sketched the map onto the wall, a living testament to his research into my not-quite-vampiric nature gained through copious amounts of venom consumption. I was sad to see it go. It felt like a goodbye to paint over it.

I suppose it was a goodbye, in a way. A farewell to the house, I mused, sitting in a pool of my skirts on the floor. Jasper sat behind me on the edge of the bed, gently working the numerous pins holding my veil and the flowers in place. He carefully lined up the flowers on the bedside table, their petals wilting after a long day of wear. After pulling the last pin free, Jasper pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

My mind was filled with thoughts of goodbye. Dubious despite my reassurances, Ava had clung to me as the reception had come to a close. I had made the mistake of assuming she was full-up on attention from Emmett, who had made a point of dancing with her since Rosalie's attentions lied primarily with Jett. But at the end, she gripped fistfuls of my skirts—they still wore the rumpling of her fingers—repeating again that she didn't want me to go.

"What do you think of being married, mi amor?" Jasper's voice drew me out of my thoughts, back to him. My hair now free, Jasper wrapped the length of it around his hand and twisted it carefully over one shoulder. I felt a gentle tugging as he undid the row of buttons down my back.

"It doesn't feel any different," I admitted. "I thought it would."

Behind me, Jasper chuckled. "No, it doesn't," he agreed. "We have been bound to each other for far longer."

I shut my eyes as more memories filled my head. It had all begun with James, the vampire that had decided to hunt my family. Jasper and the Cullens had helped me kill him. Or I had helped them, depending on if you asked me or Jasper. Then there was Maria, Jasper's 'creator' and former lover. I had long since stopped feeling the pang of acidic jealousy that her face in my mind's eyes used to conjure. That had ended with Maria's death. The Volturi had their turn in the spotlight of remembrance, of course, but they were soon overshadowed by Jett's smiling, newborn face. All too quickly, his face aged and matured to its precocious state now. Hazel eyes wide and shining with more curiosity and understanding than any infant ought to have. Finally, I thought of Jasper, sitting behind me as I rose to my knees so he could finish helping me from my wedding gown.

What a magnificent stroke of fate.

The bedroom window was open, chilly spring air prickling across the now-exposed skin of my back. Jasper's fingers charted the mountain range of my spine, soft and gentle. I turned toward him, my dress falling off my shoulders as I moved. Tipping my head back, I studied Jasper's moon-limned face. He had already removed his jacket and tie and rolled his sleeves up for the painting. The moonlight painted his scars silver; I reached up, tracing the one that cut through his lip.

"There's no going back after tomorrow," I whispered to him. The night felt fragile, somehow, like speaking too loudly might shatter it. He caught my hand, pressing a kiss to my fingertips.

"We've been at such impasses before," he reminded me. Almost every memory I had already gone through had been an impasse, and we had always come out together on the other side. I wouldn't be so bold as to say victorious; I didn't believe there ever was true winning with the Volturi. But together, yes, always together, just as we were now. Jasper hooked his hands under my arms, pulling me smoothly into his lap with a swish of my skirts. I kissed him, not caring about the night chill as my dress fell further down. He tugged gently at the sleeves, leaving me half-exposed.

The frothy bulk of my skirts was a barrier that left us both laughing as we batted it aside to more fully reach each other. I cannot say it was so much newlywed lust that had us tugging at the other's clothes and doing away with such trivial barriers, as it was a deep and primal need to feel the other. To be reassured by the solidness of flesh and bone, to join together before embarking into an unknown that was as substantial as smoke.


It was generous to call it 'morning', with the sun still hidden beneath the horizon and the edge of the sky just now turning gray with its coming. Stars still shined, heavy and bright above our heads, as Jasper and I stepped out of our house for a final time. This was the last act in the play, our last—and only—morning as Maisie and Jasper Hale. Gone was our wedding finery, replaced instead with thick layers to fend off the last tendrils of winter chill in the air. We collected a sleeping Jett from his babysitters. Rosalie kissed my cheek and Emmett hugged me too tightly, as he tended to do, each bolstering me with some of their love.

I had said my goodbyes to most of my family at the end of the night, with only Ava still regarding me suspiciously with her gray gaze. She knew, in that way that precocious way that she always had, that something more was happening. I prayed her intuition would serve her well later in her life; for now, I hoped desperately that she never, never used that intrinsic intelligence of hers to connect the dots. I hoped she never had any curiosity where the supernatural was concerned. I hoped Esme and Carlisle's plans to move away after our 'deaths' helped to diminish any memories she had of the Cullens and any of their eccentricities she may have picked up on.

But I didn't say goodbye to Gunner and Leah until we were there at the pier. They had arrived before us, Gunner leaning into Leah for her preternatural warmth on that chilly morning. I carried Jett, well-wrapped in blankets, out onto the pier while Jasper checked for the millionth time that we had what we needed. Our suitcases were packed with summer clothes, for soon we would be on Isle Esme, and between the layers of shorts and swimsuits and sandals were our packets of fake documents, safely tucked away. Right now, though, I was in Alaska, standing on a pier and being stung by the deep sadness in my brother's eyes.

I wish it were different, the wobble of his lower lip said. He swallowed, hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tried to swallow back his grief. Carefully, so as not to wake Jett, I wrapped my free arm around Gunner. I laid my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. We had always had an understanding, Gunner and I, one that rarely needed words. Mom used to say it was because of how close we were in age. Neither of us remembered life without the other. Not really twins, but as good as, in many aspects.

Even though I knew he could feel it, understood it, I still needed to say it out loud. "I'm sorry."

I was leaving him. One of us had to, eventually, and I knew that; but what a shitty way to leave him. Gunner would be carrying my secrets for me. He alone would know that I was still alive and well. I could feel his shaky breath rattle through his chest, the exhale seeping into my hair. "I think it's least I can do after you saved my life twice, Maisie. Or is it three times?"

"I didn't know you were keeping count," I told him, laughing despite myself. Laughing in the way that only Gunner could make me, when I was feeling like a million broken pieces inside. Knowing he was still able to make jokes about this awful situation glued some of those pieces back together.

When I hugged Leah, she whispered something in Quileute over my head. I didn't understand the words, but I could grasp that these words were ones of farewell. When I looked at her again, Leah was blinking back tears. "We'll see each other again soon."

It came out nearly as a question, though I think Leah meant it as a statement. I took her hand, squeezing her fingers. "When the dust settles," I promised.

While Leah and I made our promises, Jasper and Gunner clasped each other's arms and exchanged a look I couldn't read. They were able to, obviously, nodding to each other in agreement. Too soon, Jasper took me by the waist and easily lifted Jett and I onto the sailing boat. I envied Jett a little, to sleep so soundly and easily through all the heartbreak the morning had already wrought so far, and the sun still not even half risen.

I stood at the railing, watching Gunner and Leah grow ever smaller as we drew away from shore. Jett, warm and solid in his swaddling, was a reassuring weight in my arms. I didn't cry until I could no longer see them on the horizon, and only then did I turn away.

"Did you learn to sail specifically for this, or was this a hidden skill of yours?" I asked once I joined Jasper in the cockpit, sitting beside him and resettling Jett's weight in my lap. My tears fell unbidden down my cheeks, and I made no effort to wipe them away. I felt like I was leaking, my grief starting to ebb out even as I pushed it away, down, back. I couldn't fall apart, not yet. We still had to meet Peter and Charlotte.

The plan was to switch boats; we would take the motorboat Peter and Charlotte were using and they would take—and sink—our sailboat. While our deaths were being staged, Jasper, Jett, and I would make our way to Isle Esme and lay low for the summer before moving to Iceland in the fall. We were miles and miles out into the Pacific, the sun fully risen, by the time we saw the motorboat approaching. It dwarfed our small sailing vessel and I turned to give Jasper a questioning glance. Were we even supposed to take a sailboat of this size this far out?

Jett was awake by then, playing with some toys on the deck, soaking up the sun as the sea breeze ruffled his hair.

"Hullo, Maisie!" Peter called out, his voice carrying on the wind. He waved to me from his position behind the wheel, unabashed in the way the morning sun shattered and refracted from his skin. The play of light caught Jett's eye and attention, his favorite giraffe falling limply from his hand as he stared. Jasper himself had a strict aversion to sunlight, conforming happily to that vampire stereotype. I could feel his spike of annoyance to see Peter so shameless about his own nature and I hid my smile by plucking Jett up from the deck.

"Hi, Peter!" I called back. "Hi, Charlotte!"

She had popped up from somewhere below deck, the wind whipping through her curls as she waved and smiled. In a blatant example of showing off, Jasper and Peter brought the ships frighteningly close together, with a mere foot or so between them. That was for my benefit, I knew, but still—showoffs. We were close enough, now, that Jett could no longer resist the draw of Charlotte's skin and leaned out of my arms to try to touch her. She held her arm out obligingly, and Jett reverently laid his hand atop hers. Suddenly, he erupted in a delighted squeal.

"Jasper," she said his name with the heavy helping of teasing that comes from old friendships, "have you been depriving this child?"

"I'm just pleased he doesn't have the same affliction," Jasper answered, still lingering in the safety of the shade the cockpit provided. On the other hand, Peter hopped from his boat to ours, retrieving the luggage from Jasper's hiding spot.

"Congratulations, brother!" He enveloped Jasper in a tight embrace. "Finally joining the ranks of us boring married folk, huh?"

"I'm not sure 'boring' is ever a descriptor my wife will fit," Jasper responded, begrudgingly following Peter out of the cover of the cockpit. I tried to ignore the way my heart leaped at Jasper's saying 'my wife' and hoped all the others would, too.

Charlotte helped Jett and I carefully cross over from our deck to theirs without so much as a tiny jostle. Jasper retrieved Jett's toys, jumping from ship to ship with the same effortless grace Peter had. We all stood on the deck of the motorboat for a moment, more congratulations exchanged, and the plan reviewed once more.

"We'll sail back some and wait. Alice is sure there will be a storm?"

"Yes, she was able to see it clearly, since you and Charlotte will be alone. Sail as north as you dare while still in the storm. It won't be unfeasible that a sailboat that size would be blown off course, and if you can sink it where there's ice in the water, all the better."

Pleased with the entertainment of such a challenge, Peter smiled, his dark red eyes sparkling. "I think we can manage." He clapped Jasper on the shoulder, ruffled Jett's hair, and gave me a quick and saucy peck on the cheek in farewell before hopping back to the sailboat. Once there, he held his arms open wide for Charlotte, catching her effortlessly from the air when she made her own leap.

"We'll come by the island when it's all said and done!" Charlotte shouted the promise, our boats already drifting from each other on the currents. "You kids have fun!"

"Aren't you older than both of them?" I asked Jasper, pitching my voice low under cover of the wind. Still, I was sure they could hear me.

"By more than a few decades," Jasper agreed, splaying a hand across the small of my back and leading Jett and I along the deck. The next bullet point had been checked on our itinerary of Faking Our Deaths. Now we need only get to Isle Esme, where we could be distanced from the tragedy about to unfold.

I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of it. Closing my eyes, I watched the play of sunlight as it streamed through my lids. Ava's face swam up in my mind's eye. The tears started again, hot and thick and quiet down my cheeks. I was an impostor, and terrible, for what I was going to do to my family. What I must put them through.

"It is for the best, in the end, mi vida," Jasper whispered into my ear. I had felt him come up behind me, placing a steadying hand on my hip. He kissed the hollow beneath my ear, willing me to believe him.

And I did. I knew he was right; this was for the best. But that didn't mean I had to like it.


A/N: Here we are, at the penultimate chapter. I only plan on one more chapter and an epilogue. I'm sorry it took so long to get this one out, but if I'm honest, I'm having a hard time letting my girl Maisie go. :(