Dearest readers,

Thank you so much to all of you who have been with us so far on this journey. We know Alice and Jasper have had a tough go of it lately, but that's part of the complex beauty of life. We appreciate everyone so much who has given feedback to us, especially those who have reflected on their own journeys through parenthood. For anyone who might still be going through this, we encourage you to reach out to your doctor and build around you a community of love and support. None of us are islands, we're all in this together.

We hope this chapter gives you some of what the title suggests.

x

Chapter 20: Hope

Jasper

Wednesday, December 20, 2023

Forks, Washington

For the first time in months, I wake on my own. Evie isn't crying, my alarm isn't ringing, and Alice isn't muttering as she kicks around the piles of laundry we've both had to put off.

It's the first morning the house on Sycamore Lane is quiet since we brought home the youngest Cullen.

I have to check to make sure Alice even made it home last night. She'd texted me about being late with the girls, and after I'd picked up Evie, we'd both crashed hard.

When I turn to look, she's beside me, and to my surprise, she's awake. It's early enough to still be dark outside, and sleep is so precious in our household, but somehow we're both awake.

"Hey," I say, and my voice is still thick with sleep so I sound a little froggy.

Alice turns her head, her eyes flickering toward my face. To my surprise, she turns onto her side to look at me. "Hey," she whispers back.

I shift to mirror her position. It's sadly already the most intimate we've been in our bed since Evie was born.

"How was your night last night?" I want to reach out to her, to pull her against my chest, feel her warmth in my arms once more, but I'm not sure how receptive she'd be to that. It's been so hard to gauge lately.

Alice lets out a long breath. "Good… hard… interesting."

I frown. "All those things?"

Alice nods. "The girls helped me make the cookies for the holiday party today," she explains. "Over two hundred are downstairs, beautifully wrapped up, ready to be delivered."

I'm impressed, and it must show on my face, because Alice licks her lips and nods. "I know. I couldn't have pulled it off without them."

I hesitate. Is now a time to bring up my concerns? Is there such a thing as a good time for that?

Before I can make up my mind, Alice continues. "Renée was there."

I can feel my eyes widen. "Was she?" I don't know Renée, not well at least. I've met her a couple times, but it's been years since we've had any sort of conversation. I have a vague memory of her once drunkenly telling Emmett and I we'd be heartbreakers once we were legal. Charlie had hauled her out of the barbeque in the back of his squad car until she could sober up.

"How was she?" It's always a wildcard with Renée.

Alice lets out a breath. "Brutally honest," she says with a roll of her eyes. "And a little too observant."

I hold my breath, waiting to see where this is going.

Alice's eyes meet my gaze, and I can see tears starting to form. "Do you think I've changed since we've had Evie?"

I let out a breath harder than I mean to. Is it time to be honest? How honest do I have to be?

I have no idea, so I decide to do what's always worked best for me in our relationship. "You've changed in a lot of ways," I say slowly. "Some are amazing." My fingers twitch and before I can stop myself, my hand is moving across the bed, seeking hers. To my relief, her fingers meet my own, and they link together. "I didn't know that seeing you as a mother to our child could make me love you even more," I admit. "But it has. It's frankly a miracle what you've been able to do to make this new life for us."

Alice's eyes are full of tears, and I feel her fingers move around my own.

"Some of the changes have worried me," I tell her. "I know you're going through a lot, and I get scared watching you try to take it all on. I don't know how to help you because you're operating in a place now so far out of my league." I let out a breath. "You're the most determined and capable person I know, but even you need help."

Alice reaches her free hand up to her face, wiping at her tears.

"Jas, I think I do need help." Her lips press together, like she's trying to keep in a sob. "I'm not okay. I haven't been since Evie was born. I feel like I'm drowning."

Something between us breaks, a dam holding back every fear and feeling. Alice lets out a sob, and I reach out, pulling her body flush against mine. Her body shakes, heaving with sobs she presses into my chest. Each cry out of her mouth wounds me so deeply, but at the same time, I cannot help but feel relief through my own tears that she is finally letting me in.

"I want to help you, Ali," I whisper into her hair. "God, I want nothing more than to take this pain from you."

"You do help," Alice says, her voice muffled against my chest. "Sometimes I don't show it, but I couldn't be more grateful to have you as a husband, for Evie to have you as a dad." She tilts her face toward mine, her eyes red from crying but looking more beautiful than the day I married her.

"I wish I could do more," I lament quietly. "I keep thinking, if only I could make more money, or do things faster. If only I was better at this chore or that, it would magically help you stop feeling this way." I let out a breath, wincing when I realize I've made this about me.

"Renée told me I should talk with my doctor," Alice says gently. "That there are solutions out there." She pauses and her fingers gently slide across my chest, smoothing my sleep shirt. "Maybe there are things to help you too."

I frown. I'd never considered that anything was truly wrong with me, I just figured this was all part of fatherhood.

"What a pair we make," I chuckle, and Alice lets out a small, wet laugh.

"Maybe we can both meet with the doctor," Alice suggests. "Get ourselves right so that we can really be present for Evie."

I let out a breath. "I'd love that," I admit. "And maybe," I pause, wondering if I should push this subject. Alice looks at me curiously and I grunt, deciding to just go for it. "Maybe we can go see a therapist, for us."

Alice's eyes widen and I scramble to explain myself.

"Not that we're like, in trouble or anything," I hurry to say. "You know, just so we don't get to a point where like—"

To my absolute shock, Alice silences me with a kiss.

"I think it's a great idea," she agrees quietly. "I've heard Rose talk about how her time in therapy has helped her. I think it's really wise for us to have check ups on our relationship like that."

I sigh, relieved.

"I really love you." I haven't said it enough to her lately. I hate myself for that, but since there is no changing the past, all I can do is amend the future.

Alice's eyes soften, and her arms slip around me, holding me tight. "I really love you too."

This time, our kiss is colored with something neither of us has had in a very long time; hope.