Disclaimer: I don't own. We all know this. If I did that scene in Eclipse with Jasper telling Bella of his past on the cliff edge would have been so different. In my version he'd have shoved Alice off and Bella would have offered her a Zippo to light her way down. .

Bella would be 27 here and Jasper would be 26.

Song for the Chapter: What Hurts The Most by Rascal Flatts

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September 28, 2007

"Maybe it's not how it seemed." Charlotte said trying to make me feel better.

I'd come over after I'd dragged myself off that sidewalk last night and told them about seeing her. Since then they'd done everything they could to explain the guy away. They'd said he was just a friend, or was gay, or a fellow artist. Nothing mattered though.

I could still see the smile on her face and the way she'd looked at him. I could still see the kiss she'd placed on his cheek and the way they held on to each other as they'd walked away. He wasn't just a friend. She was happy.

"Jasper go back today. Talk to her."

"I can't. What if it caused a scene? I can't ruin something else in her life."

"You can't let her go without a fight either. You still love her."

"I know I just..."

"No, Jasper you need to talk to her. If it doesn't go the way you want we'll be here." Charlotte whispered. "But you can't not do anything."

I finally nodded, knowing that I couldn't just let her go now that I'd found her again.

As I dressed to go to the gallery later I thought about the guy. If it came down to a fight I knew I probably wouldn't win. He was a big guy and would tower over me by several inches if we stood beside each other. Add to the fact he was built like a brick shithouse made him someone I really didn't want to deal with.

Walking down the sidewalk again toward the gallery I prayed that things would go okay. That she would at least listen to what I had to say and I wouldn't get my ass kicked.

Stopping at the door I looked through the glass. There were quiet a few people standing around, but Bella wasn't one of them and neither was the guy she'd been with.

It didn't mean she wouldn't show up later though so I couldn't leave. Taking a deep breath I pulled the door open and stepped inside.

Glancing around I was able to find her paintings quickly. There were about twenty in all and were lined up down the back wall.

I started at one end, planning to work my way down, and took in the first one. It was just colors all swirled together, but it was beautiful. She was still so damn talented and it made a rush of happiness sweep through me. At least she'd found that joy again.

I was on the sixth painting when I stopped, the air in my lungs rushing out in a gasp of air. Where the other five had been color upon color and never having a defining shape, this one did. This one was of a place I recognized, a place Bella and I had went often and spent a lot of our summers. She'd captured the beauty of La Push beach perfectly. The cliffs, the sand, the ocean, and the clouds that never seemed to go away were there and I lost myself in the last time we'd been there.

I snapped from the past as a woman walked up and spoke, "It's beautiful isn't it?"

"Very." I said swallowing thickly.

The woman smiled and held out her hand. 'I'm Melanie, the owner of the gallery."

"Jasper," I said reaching my hand over to shake.

We stood there in silence for a few moments before I asked, "Do you know if there is a story behind this one?"

"There is. I wish Bella was here to tell you though. I don't know if I'll be able to do it justice."

"Will she be in later? I can wait."

"I'm afraid not."

My heart sank. "Oh, I figured being the spotlight artist she'd be here all week."

"Usually they are, however, Bella was a last minute move up though. The artist for this week pulled out at the last minute and since we already had Bella's pieces for next week's spotlight we went ahead with her. Unfortunately she had a prior commitment this week and had to fly back home this morning."

"She doesn't live in L.A.?"

"She used too, moved out of state a few years ago. I can't say where, privacy policy."

"I understand. How did you find her though if she isn't local anymore?'

"My husband. He was at an art show in Chicago last month. He met her boyfriend who took him to Bella's booth and introduced them..."

I quit listening as soon as boyfriend left her mouth, my worst fear was confirmed and I needed to leave.

I turned to get out of there, but a hand on my arm stopped me. "Did you want to hear the story?"

I debated for a moment and then finally with a sigh I nodded.

She didn't notice my hesitation and went on to break my heart a little more. "Bella said it was a beach near her home in Washington. She said it was special, that it held some of the best memories of her teenage years. She would go there with the boy she loved and they would spend the whole day. It never matter what the weather was like either. She would take her sketch pad and he'd take his guitar. They'd build a fire and just enjoy being together. She said that her favorite nights were the ones where they'd cuddle up under a blanket and watch the sunset."

"What happened to the boy?" I asked as soon as she had finished talking.

"You know I asked Bella that. All she would say was life."

I nodded and came to a decision. "I want to buy it."

"Of course. If you'll step over here we'll fill out the paperwork. We usually wait until the end of the week to deliver them.""That's fine. As long as I get it."

"Yes sir." She said sliding the paper over to me.

As I filled out the paper with a shaky hand I knew that while the painting would be mine, I didn't want Bella to know. I didn't want her to think about what I did when she thought about the painting. I wanted her to remember those days when I was just a boy and she was just a girl and we cuddled under a blanket; not the way we'd ended up.

I would remember though. I would look at it everyday and it would be another reminder that I had messed up the best thing in my life.

Signing my name to the bottom and handing over my credit card I said, "If she asks who bought it, please tell her I wished to remain anonymous."

"Yes sir." Melanie said giving me a confused look, but she didn't question my words. She handed me my receipt and wrote something down on the top of my paperwork. "Our delivery man will have it at your home next Monday morning by 11."

"Thank you," I whispered and without another word I turned and left the building.

As I walked back to my truck I thought about how I should have spoken up and called her name last night. I don't know what would have happened if I had, even if she had a boyfriend, but I'd never know now. There had been so much I wanted to say and keeping quiet last night had been my mistake. One I was going to have to live with from now on because finding out she'd moved on and hearing about the painting was enough to keep me from hunting her down. She didn't deserve me dragging up the past. I'd hurt her too much already and I had sworn I'd never do it again.

I don't know how I ended up on Peter and Charlotte's doorstep. One minute I was stepping up into my truck and the next I was pressing their doorbell. I didn't remember the drive over, being lost in the misery of what I'd done to myself.

Charlotte opened the door smiling, but it fell away as soon as I looked up with my tear filled eyes.

"PETER!" She yelled grabbing my arm as my knees gave out. She sank to the porch with me as I wrapped my arms around her waist.

"Jasper you're scaring me. What happened?"

"He was her boyfriend." I whispered and then I broke.

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Present Day

When I say I broke, I meant it. I'd cried while I told them what happened. How everything was my fault and that I deserved the ending I'd gotten. They'd tried to soothe me and ask why I was just letting go. I'd tried to explain my reasoning and while it hadn't made sense to them; it made sense to me.

When I'd walked out of their house later the next day it would be a few months before I would talk to them again. If I had thought the two months after Bella had left was hard it was nothing comparing to the three months following that time. It was like I'd lost her all over again and it was so much harder. I didn't talk to anyone. I didn't go anywhere. I lost my new job and if Peter and Charlotte had been anyone else I probably would have lost them too.

They never gave up though even when phone calls and knocks on my front door went unanswered. The only good thing I could say about that time was that I kept my promise on the pot smoking. I didn't go back to it nor did I think about it. I wouldn't let myself.

The day the painting was delivered was the hardest. I'd hung it up in my office and every minute I'd stared at it, losing myself in each memory that we'd made on that beach, the angrier I'd gotten.

No place in my apartment, except for the painting, had stood up against that anger. By the time I'd gotten it all out, my hands were bloody, my breathing was ragged, and everything I owned was broken, ripped, or thrown into another room.

I'd then found a bottle of Tequila, sat in the destruction that was my office, drank, and stared some more.

When I'd emptied that bottle I'd passed out in the floor, waking up the next morning with a raging headache that I welcomed. For a brief moment the ache in my chest had lessened from the pain in my head. While it would have been easy to lose myself in a bottle everyday I didn't. The pain would always come back eventually and I deserved to feel it anyway.

I'd left my apartment the mess it was until that following Saturday, finally realizing that I should clean when I couldn't find my keys to go get food. That was the night I'd found all the things in the box. It had all been separated up until that point and some of it I'd even forgotten about. As I'd found each piece and thought of the memories that went with them, I'd smiled and cried and for a brief moment I lived in the land of what ifs.

As soon as I was done I'd found the shoebox and put everything together, wanting to relive everything again later. I'd hadn't known at the time that it would become my weekly ritual, but I'm glad it did because I think it was what kept and still keeps me from completely going off the deep end.

It's what made me finally remember how important friendship was and why I'd picked up the phone when Peter called three months later.

You could say it had healed me in a way, but really I'd just learned to deal. I still only had Peter and Charlotte as friends. I had another teaching job that I loved, but that was it. I didn't go out or feel the need to date. I was who I was, a guy living in the past and wanting it that way.

With a toast to the painting I took my last drink from the Tequila bottle and went back to the living room. Picking the lid up I screwed it on and put it up in the cabinet before going back out and packing the items back in the box.

As I slid the lid on the top my phone rang from its spot on the counter. Tucking the box under my arm I walked over and picked it up, seeing Peter's name flashing on the screen.

Hitting answer I put it to my ear and said, "Hey man."

"Hey, sorry to bother you tonight." He said, knowing what I did.

"It's okay, I'm finished. What's up?"

"Charlotte's pregnant."

"Seriously dude? That's awesome. Congratulations."

"Thanks. It'll be interesting with the two tornadoes and a new baby, but we're excited."

"I bet you are."

"Yeah, which is why I'm calling. We decided to have a cookout tomorrow night to celebrate. It's not going to be anything big, her parents and mine, a few friends from her work, and Felix and Heidi. We wanted you to come?"

"I'll be there, definitely. What time?"

"Five."

"Do you want me to bring anything?"

"Nah we got it covered."

"Alright. I'll see you at five then."

"Cool, see you tomorrow."

"See you."

I set the phone down with a long sigh after he hung up. I was happy for Peter and Charlotte; they loved kids. The twins had just turned three and I always knew they'd end up having more. I just wish I could have made that same call to him one day.

I shook my head to clear the thought immediately; it was not something I even remotely wanted to think about.

I turned and made my way down the hall to the bedroom and on into the closet. I placed the box on the top shelf and let my fingers linger on it a little longer than normal. After a moment I stepped away and flipped the light off, pulling the door shut behind me.

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Okay so how was it and now who is still with me? I promise to make it all better starting with the next chapter. It will be the last one before the epilogue though. :)

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