Thank you everyone for all the alerts and favorites! But I would LOVE, LOVE, LOVE to see more feedback. I need to know that what I'm writing is working for you or especially if it isn't! I realized the other day that when I am feeling down, if I just go back and read all the reviews you guys have left I just grin from ear to ear and feel the love. So thank you! You are my pick me ups!

As promised, I am following the last chapter with this one really soon. I know that we have spent a lot of time in the woods, being sad about Alice and angry about Edward and this is basically the end. There is a chapter -that I won't spoil for you -but basically that one is a little bittersweet and then it's romance-ish stuff from there.

In writing this chapter, I felt like we should address the fact that Bella is stuck in her progress of accepting life without Alice. Because she can't talk about it with Jasper because she would have to reveal all that lovely, horrible guilt that is making her life miserable. But obviously she can't stay in this holding pattern without ending up in a loony bin so we are going to confront her issues so that we can MOVE ON!

The song for this chapter is Tomorrow Will Be Kinder by The Secret Sisters. This song was on the Huger Games soundtrack and I love the simplicity of it.

Disclaimer: There's been a lot of talk lately about that 50 Shades of Grey fanfic turned romance novel... that's not me either.

Chapter Eight: Tomorrow Will Be Kinder

JPOV:

I pulled up to the cabin and parked the car, speeding out and opening Bella's door for her. She moved past me silently, shoulders hunched, face tear stained. I unlocked the front door and she walked in, shedding her shoes while I set her bag down and hung the keys on the hook. She walked into the den and stood there. Unsure of what to do, I took her dirty clothes to the laundry room and tossed them in the washer with some soap. When I came back, she hadn't moved from her spot. She stared at a picture of her and Alice, resting on the desk.

"Bella," I said hesitantly, moving towards her. She continued to stare at the picture until I was next to her. She tilted her head up to look at me and stared while I tried to convey my remorse though my eyes and face, projecting the tiniest bit. Suddenly, her arms moved around me and she rested her head on my chest. I moved my arms to envelop her and murmured against her head a poem by Emily Dickinson. She breathed deeply, calm beginning to wash over her.

"I think I need to see a therapist," she whispered.

"You'll have a hell of a time trying to convince them not to commit you after they hear all about your adventures with vampires," I said lightly. She sighed.

"Know any good vampire therapists," she asked jokingly. I smiled.

"Actually, I do." Her eyes snapped up to mine.

"Is there anything you don't do," Bella asked from the couch. I sat in the chair I'd pulled up in front of her and smiled.

"I don't have nearly as many specialties as you think," I said lightly.

"You're a licensed psychiatrist," she said, staring at me intently. "And you never thought to mention that?"

"It's not a big deal. I haven't practiced in years."

"Years?" She demanded. "How did you practice before? How did you go to medical school?" I laughed at the indignant tone in her voice.

"First of all, with necessary precautions, I could practice a little. And as far as medical school, well, that's the plus of having Carlisle as a teacher. He arranged some smaller night classes for me to be in. Now," I said, "tell me what's going on." She looked down at her entwined fingers and I waited patiently, giving her time to collect her thoughts.

"You know how my mom goes through weird phases?" I nodded. "Well, she went through this crazy phase when I was seven. She was convinced that she would be a better mother and I would be more social and better adjusted if we got into a playgroup. So every Friday afternoon at three, we met with this group of kids and moms and she tried to be all parental and I tried to play without breaking something.

"There was this girl, Chantal, who was a lot like me. She wasn't really active and didn't like to talk a lot but we could spend hours talking about books. We were best friends. A few months later, my mom's phase ended and we stopped going to the playgroup and a few more months after that, Chantal and her mom moved to North Carolina."

"How did that make you feel," I asked after she was silent for a few minutes.

"I thought I was alone. No one in the world could possibly understand me like she did. Now…" she trailed off and then smiled cynically. "Now I realize how silly I was to think that she was my best friend."

"Why is that?" Grief began to pervade my mind and mouth as her face fell.

"Because good conversation was the only thing our relationship consisted of. Alice…Alice was as similar to me as the day is to night. We spent most of our time arguing. But without her… losing her didn't make me feel all alone."

"How did it make you feel," I asked gently.

"Like part of me died with her," she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes.

"Why do you think you felt like that," I said, placing my cold hand over hers.

"Because she was my sister," she said simply.

"And do you still feel that way; like you've died?"

"Sort of. Most days I'm pretty functional, I don't feel like my life is empty. But I always notice that she's gone. I see something that I think she would like or hate and I can't tell her. I want to tell her something but she isn't there. I hear her commenting on things I do or clothes I wear. But I always remember that she's gone."

"When you hear her, do you really hear her or is it your mind providing the reaction you think should happen?"

"It's all in my head," she said drily. "I'm not having hallucinations. I just wonder if it makes things worse, to hear her voice." She was silent, debating internally and then she sighed. "When Edward left, that first time, after my birthday, I was a mess. I was like a zombie. The doctors said I was catatonic. But after I began to come out of it, I could hear Edward's voice in my head, almost like he was right there, whenever I did something reckless or stupid. I used to do things to intentionally hear his voice. When I jumped off the cliff… I did it because I knew that I would hear him if I did. I'm kind of thinking that maybe that's what's going on now only I can't turn her off because she meant so much more to me than he did. Or maybe, because she isn't going to come back."

"It is completely natural to supply ourselves with actions that are familiar to us when we lose a loved one," I said after a moment.

"I just feel like I should be more… adjusted to having her gone. It's been almost two years and I still feel like it was yesterday!" Her frustration was palpable.

"Bella, everyone deals with loss differently. Someone can be okay with a significant loss after six months or so but for others, it can take years to come to terms with it. Don't stress if you are still grieving; you'll get there when you are done processing."

"I just…" she paused and gazed at me and I could see and feel the internal conflict she was having though what about I had no idea. She sighed. "I wish I could have saved her. I wish I could have done more," she whispered.

"There was nothing you could have done," I said softly. Her eyes flashed to mine and I saw the guilt in her eyes before I felt it. Why was she so guilty? This felt like more than just survivor's guilt. "Bella, it's normal to feel guilty because you're here and she isn't. But it's not healthy to torture yourself over it. There was nothing anyone could have done to save her," I whispered. Her eyes sought mine in challenge and I nodded. Even I had come to realize that. While in the beginning I had tortured myself with what if scenarios and guilt and I told myself that if I couldn't have saved her, I should have died with her. But as time passed, I lost the suicidal thoughts completely. Bella had shown me a beautiful world full of opportunity. Now I could return the favor.

"You're telling me that you admit that saving her was impossible," she asked skeptically.

"I am," I said. "By the time she called me, it was too late to save her. There was nothing I could do." Her eyes suddenly welled up and she began to sob into her hands. I was beside her instantly, holding her and running my fingers through her hair. She pushed me away and I reluctantly moved back to my seat, confused and hurt by the rejection. She cried until her tears ran out and then she just sat and stared at me, her emotions running rampant.

"Jasper," she finally asked hesitantly.

"Yes, Bella?"

"Do you… do you wish she hadn't died?"

"I used to. I used to wish she was still there with me every day. But now… I don't wish she was dead but I don't miss her as much as I used to. I'm becoming happier with life without her."

"How?" she asked, her eyes full of trust.

"Because of you," I whispered. She smiled and climbed off the couch. She came closer and then crawled into my lap, resting her head on my chest. I held her close, running my fingertips over the soft, warm skin of her jaw and neck.

"I'm glad you're here, Jasper," she sighed. I squeezed her gently, enjoying the new pride and contentment that she was projecting to me.

"Me too, darlin'," I whispered. "Me too." We sat there contentedly for a while before she sat up.

"Ugh, I stink," she said, wrinkling her nose and I laughed. "I'm going to go shower and then would you maybe… read to me," she asked hesitantly and I smiled.

"Of course. Are you hungry? I can make you something while you shower," I offered. She smiled.

"That would be great. All this healing has me famished," she said dramatically and I laughed and hopped off the chair. I headed to the kitchen while I listened to the shower water start to run. I pulled out a package of macaroni noodles and set water on to boil. I pulled out milk, cheese, butter, cream and some chili powder. When the noodles were all cooked, I added the rest of the ingredients and stirred them around until the cheese was all melted and then I scooped some into a bowl and grabbed a fork for her. I set the bowl and fork on a stray with a napkin and then poured her a glass of orange juice. I lifted the tray and carried it to her room. She was standing in front of the bookcase, browsing. I smiled and set the tray down. She grabbed a book and skipped over to the bed, jumping in and then handing me the book. I took it and when she was settled under the blankets, I laid the tray across her lap and she smiled at me.

"Mac and cheese, huh," she asked teasingly.

"Hey, you wanted the Southern boy to make you food, ya'll better learn real quick that that food ain't goin' to be healthy," I drawled and she smiled and chuckled. She began to eat I looked at the book she had handed to me, reclining on the bed next to her. "Byron, huh," I teased and she lifted her head proudly.

"Byron wrote some of the most beautiful prose that exists," she said haughtily and I laughed and she began to laugh with me. Before starting I took her tray from her and set it on the nightstand. She settled down in the covers, resting her head on my chest and I opened the book to the Table of Contents, scanning for a poem to start with.

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

When I finished, Bella was sleeping gently and I smiled and kissed her head before getting up and taking her dirty dishes to the sink and washing them. When I came back into the room, I stood in the doorway and watched as she turned over in her sleep, her head resting against the pillow with her hair fanned out over it. Her face was soft, untroubled in slumber and I smiled. My mind replayed everything that had happened today and I wondered if she would ever tell me why she carried so much guilt over Alice's death. But I shoved those thoughts aside and moved back to lay beside her, running my fingers through her hair softly and murmuring softly the languid prose of Byron and wishing that her life could always be this serene.

I felt warmth run through me at the knowledge that I was the reason she could sleep soundly. I always wanted to be the one who put Bella to sleep, the one she came to when she had a problem or just something to share.

I smiled slowly as I realized that Bella Swan now meant as much to me as Alice had.

Maybe more.

At last! We have some closure for Bella and the realization for Jasper that he is falling in love with her! YAY!

The poem was She Walks In Beauty by Lord Byron. It is one of my favorite poems ever and I can only imagine how much better it would sound with Jasper reading it in his sexy voice.

So! Next chapter is going to be emotional but it will be the last one. This angst is bringing me down and I am more than ready to move on. The next chapter will also answer many of your questions about how Jane tricked Alice when Alice would have seen all her decisions before they happened. Finally!

You guys are awesome. I love hearing back from you. I love the favorites and the alerts but when you guys tell me what you thought about the chapter, I am ecstatic. Seriously. I laugh and giggle and act like a thirteen year old girl who just saw Jacob take his shirt off!

Next chapter: an anniversary!