A/N: I love my best friend and so I wrote her this little story. Cuz she's the best.
I'd like to send my love and thanks to ahizelm who is amazing and read through all of this for me. And to Miss_Becky_Louise who helped keep all my Brits British. No offense meant by the term "Yank", just slang for American in this case. :)
OK, kids. Deep breaths. You can do this.
The Setting: Hobart, Tasmania
The Music: Stay, Lisa Loeb
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EPOV
Throughout the night I drift slowly in and out of sleep, waking often to soft curls brushing against my skin, Jasper's warm scent filling my lungs. I squeeze him tighter, pulling his back against me and eliciting small grumbles and sighs before drifting off again.
When I finally wake fully, I feel a warmth across my chest from a sliver of sunlight slipping past the edge of the window shade. Panicking, I reach, and it is with a clenching in my chest and an emptiness in my bed that I realize Jasper left.
He is gone.
At once, I am incredibly lonely and then incredibly angry. He didn't even say goodbye, just slipped away into the early morning without a single word. After the night we had, I would have thought he would have left...something.
Did he not feel our connection? Was it not the same for him?
Argh! Why do I do this to myself? Fall for men who aren't available? Jasper is almost the pinnacle of unavailable, thousands of miles away with a boyfriend.
Why am I such a fool?
I slam my palms onto the bed, causing a satisfying noise, but it doesn't take the edge off the pain in my heart. A fluttering at the edge of my vision catches my eye, and I turn to see a piece of paper twirling toward the ground. I grasp it and notice writing. I hold my breath as I flip it over, daring to hope.
Jasper's handwriting is small and cramped and I smile at how much he crammed into that tiny scrap. I squint at the paper, realizing I need better light to make out his chicken-scratch and turn on the small side lamp. I sit up straighter, take another deep breath and read.
Edward,
This is not how or what I planned.
I'm sorry I didn't say a proper goodbye.
Forgive me. Write to me.
~Jasper
jwhitlock (at) madeupmail . com
I read his words over and over until they are burned into my memory. I hold the note to my lips, kissing the words, hoping that the first line is not one of regret.
I flop back onto the bed, covering my eyes with my arm. I came here to Australia, the other side of the world, to get away from this type of heartache, to have some free time to myself, for myself. And here I've gone and messed up my holiday and my free time.
But, I don't regret a second of it. What I regret is our separation, the distance between Jasper and me. I regret waiting to touch him. I regret having to return to my lonely life knowing that he exists in the world, just not in my part of it.
I look again at his note, and finally notice that he wrote his name as 'Jasper'.
For me.
Glancing at my watch, I decide it's not too late. I need help. I need someone I trust to weigh in on this one because I definitely don't trust myself.
I need Alice.
In a rush, I get dressed grab my headset and run downstairs to the common computers. Logging on, I can't hardly hold back my enthusiasm that Alice is online. I ping her on Skype and plug in the microphone and soon her perky voice is ringing in my ear.
"Why, hello brother dear! To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"Oh, stuff it, Alice. I'm just calling to say hello." The sound of her happiness makes me not want to bother her with my problems. I can deal with this on my own. "Can't I just check in on my favorite sister?"
She suddenly becomes serious, all the perkiness gone from her voice. "While you're on the holiday of your life? I think not! What's wrong?" she asks, her typical intuition kicking in.
"Why does something have to be wrong?" I try to divert her, but it's to no avail.
"Well, first of all you're deflecting all my questions with questions. And second... Wait! Is this about a boy?"
Jesus. How does she do that? If I'm going to be honest with myself, it's why I called her. Because she just knows.
"Yes," I respond finally, almost hearing her impatient toe tapping across the line.
"About a boy that matters?" she emphasizes.
"Yes," I answer reluctantly, sighing deeply.
"And why aren't you with said boy?"
At this question, I turn my head up to the ceiling, willing my chest to not explode, willing the sting in my eyes to dissipate. I finally choke out two words. "He left."
"He left you?" she asks incredulously.
"No, he left the country. Returned to the US, actually," I reply morosely, struggling harder to keep the sadness at bay.
I can almost see her ears perk up. "Ooh! A Yank! Interesting." When I don't respond, she continues a little more hesitantly. "So, why are you calling me? Shouldn't you be calling him?"
"No. Yes. Oh, bloody hell. I don't know," I finish despondently. And that's the crux of it really. I just don't know what to do. And she picks up on that immediately.
"Okay, Edward. Spill it," she demands.
And so I do. I tell her about the amazing conversations, his wit, his taste in music, his devotion to family, his eloquence, and how much I love just bullshitting with him. And then I tell her about his body, how his lips could keep me burning for days, how his eyes could see into my soul and how his fingers knew exactly where I needed to be touched.
"Last night was perhaps the most perfect moment in my entire life," I conclude with a sigh. There's silence on the other line.
"And you let him just walk away?" I have to pull the headphones away from my ears as her voice reaches a new octave.
"There was no 'letting', Ali. He couldn't stay. He had to go home," I admit despondently. Seriously, what else was I supposed to do last night but let him go?
"But he left you his email?"
"Yes, but..." I start, but she quickly cuts me off.
"No 'but's. You should email him. You'll regret this if you don't."
And don't I already have too many regrets regarding him? "Alright, but I'll let him settle in first."
"Good." Her voice immediately brightens, effectively distracting me from my woes. "Now what are you going to do today?"
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