So this is it, the final chapter. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to update last week, I didn't mean to leave you hanging but I've been so busy with work and life etc. A few of you informed me that the last chapter made you cry real tears...I'm not sure whether to apologise or not. I'm flattered, if anything, that my writing managed to provoke a strong emotion. If you don't like bittersweet endings, then perhaps get the tissues ready this time ;-)

And of course, as always, thanks to BK2U for editing this chapter in record time so I could get it up sooner than planned!

August 1st

I was twenty-six days shy of my nineteenth birthday when I attended my first therapy session, thanks to my friends and Tobias, who all persuaded me to go. Sitting in the waiting room was torture. My leg bobbed up and down restlessly, my eyes drifting and examining every inch of the room. I was about to leap up and flee back out of the door when my name was called. "Beatrice Prior?" a tall, lanky man with dark, floppy hair asked. At the time all I could do was nod tightly and follow him down a small, musky-scented hallway. I didn't even correct him with my usual 'It's Tris'.

He asked me a whole bunch of questions to get the session started: "So, you suffer with anxiety and bouts of insomnia?" Yes; "Do you struggle with lack of sleep?" Yes; "Do you work full-time?" I do, in a nursery; "Do you enjoy it?" I love it; "Do you live on your own?" No, with my boyfriend; "Are you studying anything at the moment?" Yes, childcare and mathematics; "How would you describe your social life?" I have opportunities, but because of the anxiety I don't always take them; "That and the exhaustion is something we need to work on. So, just one thing I want to record before we start the CBT— what is your goal for the end of therapy?"

That was the only question I got stuck on. Honestly, I have everything right now. I have everything, but sometimes it still isn't enough. I can still wake up kicking and screaming in the dead of night, plagued by nightmares from my past that haven't been put to rest. It's not just me that's suffering with lack of sleep anymore, I'm affecting Tobias, too. He stays awake with me when I can't get back to sleep, and refuses to sleep on the couch or in the spare room, even though it would spare him from being woken up by my tossing and turning. I'm juggling a lot at the moment; my studies for childcare and placement at the nursery can be stressful, especially since I've been told I need to pass mathematics. Obviously, Tobias is always there to help, but he's got work of his own. He's started up his own business, and so far it's been a success. People hire him to create computer plans for their houses—both interior design and structural changes. Eventually, he wants to branch out, perhaps hire some people and begin creating design software of his own.

"Crap," I mutter, my phone sliding out of my pocket and dropping underneath the passenger seat of my car. I only recently learned how to drive, and my skills are still a little rickety. I've been stuck in a little traffic on my way back from the therapist's office, and I'm pushing it for time since we have a charity event that we need to attend. To try and get some much needed closure after his mother's death, Tobias has been taking part in various charity events that raise money and awareness for cancer. He even ran a marathon last month, and gained plenty of sponsors for it. It's helped him feel not so powerless, since after his mother died he's always felt as if there was something he could have done for her. It's not the truth, of course, since the illness was way out of his hands. But now, he feels like by raising money he's helping others, rather than just watching and hearing about cancer tearing more families apart.

I pull up into the driveway, biting down on my lip when I hit the huge plant pot and knock it over. I park outside the garage and leave the key in the engine, ready for Tobias to come out and drive it inside the garage properly, since I can't do that yet without causing damage to the brickwork. As if on cue, he jogs outside in his pyjamas, hair tousled since he had slept in today. "Hey," he says to me, a little breathless and distracted. He kisses me on the cheek quickly, and hops into the driver's seat of the car, parking it effortlessly. It's his small white sporty one that he's had for a couple of years. He lets me drive it since he recently bought a bigger car when we moved.

I make my way into our house, stepping past boxes that we haven't managed to unpack yet. We moved into the house a few months ago, but parts of it needed redecorating so it's been a bit of war zone. It's decent sized, not too big nor too small, and I love it now that we're putting our own stamp on it. When we first moved in, I was a nervous wreck because I had never even travelled anywhere without my mother before, and Tobias was stressed out because the movers messed up our boxes. We had to drink purple grape juice out of mugs and share cereal that we ate out of a huge cooking pan. We even had to sleep on our mattress on the living room floor for a couple of weeks and live off a diet of take-out and cold cuts. I smile ruefully at the memory, me sitting on the floor in Tobias' clothes, rubbing his back after his face went green from eating a spicy curry dish for the fourth time in a row.

"Sandwiches?" I shout to Tobias when I hear him come back into the house and throw the keys on the sideboard.

"Sure, I'm just going to get in the shower quickly," he shouts back, jogging up the stairs. I know he's nervous about today, I'm just waiting for him to admit it. The charity event is being held in our neighbourhood park, there's going to be games and food but also a few speakers—Tobias has offered to be one of those speakers. He really just needs to present some facts, but he's also going to talk about his personal experience and the loss of his mother. I guess it provides a kind of shock and sympathy factor, engaging the audience and making them understand how it affects people. But really, like me, there are just some things he needs to get off his chest. Once he's showered and back downstairs, we devour the sandwiches quickly in silence, heading back up to the bedroom to get dressed.

I stand in our walk-in closet, in the midst of struggling to pull a floral dress over my head when Tobias walks in. "I'm kind of nervous," he says quietly, walking up to me and helping tug the dress down my body. There it is, I think to myself. I'm just thankful that he's actually admitting his feelings to me rather than keeping it bottled up like he used to. He stands there in his boxers and white shirt, the collar sticking up whilst he fiddles with his tie. I pull him to stand in front of me, and push his hands away as I pull the tie from around his neck.

"Ditch the tie," I say. I walk over to where his clothes hang, and pull out a plaid button up instead. "Put this on with your jeans. It's daytime, and the weather's warm…you don't need to look that formal."

"Not helping," he mutters, taking his white shirt off and putting on the plaid one instead. As he buttons it up, I take his face in both of my hands, my thumb running back and forth over his cheekbone soothingly. He leans into my embrace, his eyes lowering to the ground.

"Don't be nervous," I say sternly. "You practiced the presentation and you were great at it. You remember all the facts and figures by heart, and you always speak clearly and perfectly. It's not supposed to be too serious, you know? It's a family event, and some of them will be goofing around on stage to make the kids laugh rather than cry."

"I can't goof around when I'm talking about my mom. I'm worried I'll get too choked up…maybe I shouldn't be doing this."

"Tobias, stop. You want to do this, you already decided that it would help you. That it would help others see how real this stupid disease is and encourage them to donate some cash and take part in the fight against it. Just pretend that you're back in our living room practicing and you'll be fine."

"I'll have no problem with thinking about when we were in the living room the other night," he smirks, recalling the night when he was supposed to be practicing but got distracted with me instead.

"I don't think recalling that incident while you're on stage is a good idea," I snicker, as his hands snake around my waist. He kisses my neck gently, just below my ear. "Tobias," I sigh. He carries on kissing across my skin, nudging the straps of my dress down as he lays his lips on my shoulder and collarbone. "We have to stop," I say unwillingly, knowing that we're on a time schedule. He whines with displeasure, his fingers sliding up firmly until they make contact with my ribcage, pressing them against my sensitive spot. "Stop!" I gasp with a laugh, leaning backwards as my legs almost give way with the ticklish sensation, but his arms keep me firmly against him.

"We have twenty minutes," he says, his other hand dropping lower to slide up my loose dress.

"Later," I promise to him, gripping his hand firmly and pulling it away from where he was teasing me. I turn around, smoothing my hair down and pulling on my sandals. He sighs deeply, head dropping back dramatically before he, too, finishes getting dressed.

As expected, the drive to the park was tense. Tobias' fingers tapped relentlessly against the steering wheel as we hit every red stoplight. But then he asked me how my therapy session went, and I think I managed to distract him by talking about that for a while. His nerves disappeared as soon as we got there, his mask that prevents people from knowing how he really feels growing. I sit on one of the creaky plastic chairs in front of the main presentation, a few rowdy children next to me making it difficult to hear anything. The mayor has managed to show up, and provides an opening speech about how thankful he is that we all attended today. I fan my face with a leaflet, little droplets forming on my skin from the heat. Everyone is a little fidgety, but the charity workers- and Tobias- do an excellent job of entertaining while still providing useful information. However, my eyes traitorously flick to the left, eyeing up the bake sale and mountain of chocolate cake.

And that's exactly where I go as soon as the opening presentation is over. The kids run off to the bouncy castles and scream with joy when they chase each other, carrying blue and white balloons with the charity's name stamped on them. There's a row of gazebos and tables, some selling food, some selling knick-knacks. All proceeds will go to the charity, of course. Which is how I justify buying two slices of chocolate cake instead of one…and then two more for Tobias. I'm walking up the small crowd of event workers, intent on giving Tobias some cake, when I walk past the Fun House Mirrors. There's a young girl staring at herself in one on her own, laughing at the way the mirror distorts her image. She catches me looking at her, and shyly waves over a hand. "It makes you look fat," she giggles. "My sister thinks it's stupid, she's over there," the girl says, pointing at an older looking teenager who's queuing up for one of the small rides.

"It's not stupid," I say. "It's funny." I walk up to the mirror, laughing at my own silly reflection. I look taller and wider, but then when I stand on my tiptoes, my raven tattoos become magnified and it sends a jolt of pain through me. A reminder of Lynn, that's all these tattoos have become. I haven't spoken to her in nearly eight months since she's been in rehab, and sadly I doubt I'll ever speak to her again. She was right, people do need to move on and sometimes have to go their separate ways. I've heard from Shauna that she's doing well, though, and her health is progressing. Even though it's hard, she's apparently making the most out of her time at the centre and has been clean ever since she got there. Even though the change is sad and sometimes I miss my best friend I can't bring myself to wish that things were different. Because, things are getting better, for all of us, and that's what's important. It's hard to let go, but she's happy, I'm happy, and that makes the whole thing a little easier. Friends don't always last forever, and I'm learning to accept that and move on.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," a voice- Tobias'- says from behind me. I jump, the pile of cake dropping to the floor. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." He bends down in front of me, picking up the cake and throwing it into a nearby trash can.

"It's not your fault," I say, my fingers linking with his as we walk back to the bake sale to pick out something else. "You know my mind just goes all over the place sometimes."

"Do you think that going to therapy will help?" He asks, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"I think so," I smile. "I mean, I have a good feeling that it will."

As promised, we ate the cake we went back to purchase and then left the event, both exhausted after today. Tobias drives the car into the garage, pulling on the parking brake and shutting the engine off. He leans his head back against the headrest and closes his eyes, releasing a deep breath whilst he undoes his seatbelt. I unbuckle my own, leaning over the armrest to kiss the side of his face, my arm snaking around the back of his neck as my hand grips the top of his arm. "You did a really good thing today, Tobias," I whisper in his ear. "And your mom would be proud of you."

He pulls back a little, his eyes skimming over my face, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip as he stares at it. "Are you proud of me?" He asks.

"Of course I am," I say, pressing my lips against his, firmer this time, enjoying the way that I can so easily lose myself in him. We lose ourselves in each other. Soon, our kisses become passionate and urgent, and I somehow make my way from kneeling on the passenger seat to straddling his lap. We begin to pant, our bodies craving friction as we press and move against each other with want.

"Is it later yet?" He asks me breathlessly. I laugh, biting my lip and nodding my head. He grins, opening the car door to get us both out. I lock my legs around his waist firmly, our hands and mouths sloppy due to the multitasking involved with shutting the car door and opening the one that leads from the garage into the kitchen. He takes us over to the island counter, setting me down on it as his hands work clumsily to pull the top of my dress down and gather the bottom of it up around my waist. I manage to get his shirt off in seconds, the buttons an obstacle that won't stand in my way when I know exactly what I want. Our bodies tremble with emotion, strange feelings surging through me to the point where all of a sudden I know what I want. It's Tobias, it's always been him. Even after everything—after all the struggles and heartache and sadness he's still the one that's here for me at the end of the day, and I'm always the one that's here for him, too.

"I love you," I suddenly tell him for the first time. It's the truth, I am in love with him, and I'm no longer afraid to admit that. It feels safe to say it, something that is certain, something that I am sure of. At first, I don't think he heard me properly, since my voice was strained and faltering. But then he stills, breaking away from my skin to look up at me with an intensity in his eyes I've never seen before.

"Please don't leave me," he begs, head tilting down, and I can feel his harsh breaths against my shoulder. I don't let him hide, I fit my hand under his chin and tilt his head back up to look at me again. This time, I look past the deep blue eyes that captivated me when I first met him, and I marvel at who he really is. At first, all I saw was the deep ocean blue, the intimidation, the striking looks and the way he carries himself. But now I see the vulnerability, and the ways he's been hurt. Just like me, he's been lonely. But together, we are something else.

"Never," I say sternly, because this moment is too intense for sweetness and smiles.

"Promise?" he says, his voice cracking and thick with emotion like mine. I purse my lips, in an attempt to fight back my sadness at the sound of his voice. But I can't help it, a few lone tears manage to fall, as I think about the people who have abandoned us. I think about the people who were supposed to love us, but left; whether by choice or not. The people who hurt us, whether intentionally or not. I think of the boy who got left behind, lost without his mother and confused without love or attention. I think of the girl who got shut in her room, scared and alone, with only harsh and violent words to keep her company. I begin to cry for us, my head dropping heavy on his shoulders, my tears dripping onto and falling down his skin. His arms wrap around me tighter, pulling me against him in a way that makes me feel safe rather than constricted.

"I promise."

Sometimes we are told that we shouldn't rely on other people to bring us happiness, that we shouldn't need anyone but ourselves. But I've learned that having someone there to take the extra weight from your shoulders and share your burdens can be almost lifesaving. And, even though love can't solve everything, it can damn well try... and that is all that matters to me. Now I understand this: I am not damaged by life or beyond repair.

I am not jaded.

Like everyone else on this godforsaken planet, I'm a work in progress; but there's a light at the end of the tunnel, and I can see that now. And so, once my tears of sadness have lifted, I raise my head and look at Tobias, pouring all of my adoration and devotion into my gaze. Then, I kiss him tenderly on the lips, grateful for the fact that we have found each other. For the fact that we are mending each other.

"I love you, too," he says.

The End.

PLEASE READ:

There will not be an epilogue chapter. After this one, it is not needed. But, I may possibly be posting some bonus chapters, so keep following for updates on that.

I have the rest of their lives mapped out: what their kids names will be, when they'll get married etc…and I kind of feel like it needs to be told. I've already grown attached to the characters of the kids that I've created for them and think it would be nice to share it with you all.

If I do decide to share these mini chapter with you, I won't be posting it on a separate story, I'd just add it onto Jaded. So, like I said, all you need to do is keep following this story so that you'll get an email if I post a chapter. If you have an idea of something that you'd like to see or know about regarding Tris and Tobias' future, you can send me an ask on my tumblr: yabooklover20 (especially if you're a guest reviewer, since I can't reply to you directly).

Sorry for this super long author's note, but I'd also really just like to say thank you to everybody who has supported this story, whether you're new on the Jaded train or you've been here since the very beginning. It's the longest story I've ever written, and I've become so attached to their characters and lives. Your reviews and comments are the reason that I've kept going with it over these past few months!

I'm not sure when or if I'll post the bonus chapters-but in the meantime, head over to my new fic "Sixteenth Summer", I'd love to hear all of your comments on that, too :-)