A/N: I listened to quite a bit of emo music while writing this. Who wants my playlist for this story? Leave it in a review.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just Annabelle. The rest belong to Stephenie Meyer.
I fell back on his bed, staring at the ceiling that Friday night. The day went well. Annabelle loved her present, Rosalie didn't attack me at the beach, Vera, Emmett, Peter, and Charlotte all welcomed me to the group and I went to the water lifting Annabelle to and from the waves with Jasper. We had returned home to sweet solitary duet bliss in his room. Annabelle had fallen asleep on the ride home and I had waited in his room until Jasper had tucked her in before the door creaked open and he joined me.
He sat up on the opposite side of the bed, his legs stretched out toward theend posts, while mine were stretched toward the headboard. He stared at me, but I couldn't look back. My flight was tomorrow night. I closed my eyes as his eyes left a burning trail across my skin. "Please, stop," I begged, my voice quivering in agony.
I couldn't leave Annabelle. After last night, reading with her and putting her to bed—I couldn't stand to leave her like this. She was so set on me being around at all hours of the day. Just last week, Jasper called the three times after work and put Annabelle on to talk to me. She said she missed my voice. She was too important to leave behind and yet—something was keeping me from sticking around.
I felt each of his knees settle on either side of my hips, his hands pinning my arms down to the bed. I opened my eyes to face reality; his eyes bore into mine intensely as if reading my soul, similar to the look he had given me when we first met. I didn't say a word and he breathed a sigh of frustration, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to my lips. I turned my face and he kissed my cheek instead.
"You can leave," he murmured against my skin. I closed my eyes and bit my lip, feeling his hands lift from my arms. "I'm not asking you to stay."
"That's what's so hard," I answered in the same hushed whisper. "If you told me to stay, I'd know how you feel about all of this," I said, turning my head back to meet his gaze. His eyes were torn and he opened his mouth to speak, but the indecision was prevalent in his gaze. "Please, Jazz, I—"
"It's not my decision, Alice," he replied, easing off of me and sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to me. I watched him tense as I slid a hand over and laced my fingers with his. I squeezed his hand and sighed, struggling to find the words myself.
"Well, you have a say in this," I argued, my voice choking up at the end. He shook his head and looked down into his lap. I squeezed his hand again and he gently tore his hand from mine, leaving a sickening emptiness that seemed oh-so-familiar from only a few weeks prior when he had neglected to call me after our first overnight encounter.
"You really want to hear what I think?" he asked tensely. I nodded and he paused for a moment. I could feel the tension in the room grow with each passing second. "You have a dream, Alice," he began. "You have a family, a home, and a life already picked out for yourself in New York and you've worked hard to get this far; I can't pull you away from it. That would be selfish."
"Jazz, you deserve to be a little selfish," I assured him, but he shook his head, his gaze glued to his lap. I closed my eyes and avoided a lost gaze, as he stayed further away from me.
"Will you come to Portland again for this movie?" he asked quietly, his voice quivering with a bit of untold emotion. Was it frustration or did he really not want to see me go?
"I don't think so. I can do the rest from New York, they don't need me here and they don't need to pay for me to be here," I said sadly, my voice lacked its normal optimism. I longed for him to pull me into his arms, kiss me senseless, and beg for me to stay, but he didn't.
"And you don't come here often," he spoke rhetorically, but I answered with a timid 'no' regardless. "I have your number, long-distance could always work until you're settled and have more money to splurge on traveling. I mean, I have school ending next fall and then I'll be paying off loans and bills, so it may take me a little longer to come see you. I could ask Rose for a little financial help, but then again, with Annabelle—"
"Please tell me you're not considering long-distance," I pleaded, sitting up and climbing over to him, my lips against his ear. "Just tell me to stay," I begged, my lips brushing against his ear lobe. He pulled away from me, standing in front of me now. Frustrated, I stood as well, though my height difference put me at a disadvantage.
"Tell me something," I said, fighting to meet his gaze. "You obviously don't agree with Rosalie because you've seen me even after you knew I was leaving. You let me into your house to meet Annabelle and time and time again, you've had me here for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and afterwards. I've gone to her birthday party, played cards, dolls, and even hand puppets with your daughter," he met my gaze and I glanced to see his hands tighten to fists. "But you don't want me here? You're not asking me to stay? Did you just want a part-time babysitter, Jasper? Because I'm sure Rosalie would've been happy to take over for me." His jaw clenched as he fought back what he was going to say, but I was too keyed up, too enthralled to comprehend it. "I want to be with you, Jazz, but I don't want us to be a moot point. I don't want to stay if you don't want me to because—" my voice quivering as it trailed off.
"What're you trying to say?" he answered, his gaze intently reading my soul. I opened it earnestly, letting him read every bit of emotion I was emitting as I spoke the next three words without actually processing them first.
"I love you," I whispered. His eyes flickered past an array of emotions, too quick for me to decipher them and then they were dead and cold. My heart pounded against my chest and I immediately regretted my verbal declaration of affection. I stepped away from him, blinking and looking down. "Are you going to say something or was that hesitation just telling me that this was a waste of time?" I choked out.
"Alice…" there was that tone again; the "I just want to be friends" tone. I balled my hands into fists and stepped back frantically trying to take it all back and rewind.
"No—It's okay, just—don't," I prayed, turning my back on him and grabbing my bag, walking in a blind haze to the front door. Jasper followed me, grabbing my arm and shutting the door I had just opened and keeping me inside for a minute more. "What?" I asked, my lip quivering pathetically as I regretfully let my emotions take over. Now wasn't the time to cry.
"Alice, you have a life set out for you. I don't want to make this harder and say things that—" he began, but I put my hand over his on my arm and loosened his grip, prying his hand off of me. I turned and opened the door, stepping out onto the porch and down the steps before whipping around and pointing an accusatory finger at him.
"You're scared," I said as he followed me out to the front lawn. "You're terrified I'd make you happy. You're scared of what others will think, you're scared of me or me and Annabelle—or maybe you're still afraid of Maria."
He winced at the name and his eyes grew furious as he grabbed my arm again and growled, "don't talk about her."
"That's it," I accused, ripping my arm from his tight grasp and stepping back as I approached the car Vera let me borrow. "You're afraid I'll be just like she was; that I'll leave Annabelle or maybe just you."
"That's not what it is," he replied, his voice dripping with the same bitter venom his sister wore just a few nights ago.
"The funny thing is, you know I won't," I continued on as he stopped in his approach. "You know I love you and it isn't just a lie, but your heart is all over the place. It's a month, how much can attraction mean in a month, right? And now you're thinking about the butterfly-stomach, the emptiness when we're apart—God, Jasper, that is love!" I yelled, my voice shaking with hysterics. "So just tell me to stay."
One… Jasper took a step toward me. Two… He froze. Three… We locked eyes: mine pleading and his emotionless. Four… The lights of the neighbors' house came on. Five… Jasper took a step back.
My heart dropped, my throat closed up, my eyes sank, and I choked out another sob before I scrambled to open the door and get into the car. I didn't look back as the engine roared to life, as I sped out of the driveway, and as I drove further away from the house. I stormed into the hotel, running up the stairs to blow off some steam after getting odd looks from the bystanders in the lobby at my running mascara and hiccupped sobs. I planned to spend my last night in the hotel room, haphazardly packing my things and sobbing pathetically before I remembered Edward's message from so long ago.
I slid my cardkey in the lock and opened the door, throwing my stuff down on the countertop in the kitchen. I downed a glass of water, my hands shaking with pent up emotion. Finally, I calmed down enough to dial his number; I cleared my throat as he answered. "Took you long enough," Edward greeted me.
"Sorry, what's up?" I replied, easing myself onto the couch, hugging a pillow to my chest.
"What's wrong?" he immediately recognized my not-so-chipper voice. I groaned and rolled my eyes.
"Just tired," I replied, giving him a warning to move on to another topic. "Why'd you call?"
"You're coming home tomorrow, I can just tell you then," he responded. I sighed; he always did this when I wouldn't tell him something. I heard Bella in the background—what she said was unclear, but when I heard a smack, I knew she wanted him to cut the crap. "Ow! Fine, okay. Your agent called the apartment yesterday. Why she didn't call you, I don't know, but anyway, she said some fashion designer saw your portfolio on your fabulous website," the one he helped me with, "and immediately called her asking for your availability."
"Fashion designer?" I asked, rolling my eyes. As if he knew any. Who the hell would want to see me—here I was in the middle of nowhere designing costumes for a potential flop movie. Humor me, Eddie. "Who?"
"Someone who works for Jen Kao." I dropped the phone. Jen Kao was an up-and-coming New York designer known for her quirky sense of style. She wanted to team up with me? Was I to be her assistant? Still, it was an amazing opportunity regardless of what I was doing! He was joking. Was he joking? Someone from Jen Kao asking about me and my designs? I heard Edward call my name from the phone and scrambled to pick it up. "They like your ideas and want to meet you. She said something about you going to Paris in January to be their eyes and ears for some designer conference. They want you taking notes or something, I don't know, but this is a huge opportunity."
"Yeah," I choked out, my voice now with a new light to it. I grew giddy at the idea of it all. Paris… Jen Kao… It was a dream come true. I still had to meet them of course, but it was an amazing opportunity. All thoughts of Jasper were out of my head as I clutched the phone, eagerly awaiting more details, but he came up short.
"Congratulations," Edward snapped me out of my daze. "I'll let you call your agent and get some sleep. I'll pick you up at the airport tomorrow."
"Thank you," I grinned. "Wait!" I squealed into the phone, sniffling a little. "I know I shouldn't ask, but—how're you and Bella?" I asked casually.
"We didn't elope, Alice. The wedding plans still belong to you," Edward replied and my grin grew wider. Well at least something when right tonight. "I'll pick you up tomorrow. Get some sleep."
I jumped to my feet and hanging up the phone before sprinting to my room and packing my things with a lithe bounce in my step. My happiness was short-lived, however. That emptiness, the bitter cold that chilled me to the core when I was no longer around Jasper still hung mockingly as if forbidding me my happiness without him by my side. Frustrated, I angrily closed the zipper on my suitcase and carelessly tossed it to the corner of my room before enjoying the rest of my night alone.
A/N: The visuals have been added to my author page, so go check them out! Thanks for reading! Next chapter is the second-to-last before an epilogue, but would you guys rather have a epilogue or a sequel? Leave it in the reviews. Thanks for reading!