Always

Chapter Three: The Good Girl

Jessica Stanley

Every morning, I set my alarm for six o'clock because my classes started at eight. I used my free morning time to work out or catch up on some notes. Today, I was pleased to find that I was already up to speed with everything for the week. I got up, made my bed, and organized my laundry, making sure to get it down to the laundry room before any other early risers had a chance. Returning to my dorm, I collected my workout clothes, which consisted of a blue sports bra, blue shorts, and a pair of trainers. I packed a towel and a bottle of water into my bag and headed down to the college gym.

My dorm room is a cozy, welcoming space. The walls are adorned with motivational posters and pictures of my friends and family, and there's a small desk where I keep my books and laptop. My bed, neatly made, occupies one corner, and there's a bookshelf filled with my favorite novels and some decorative plants.

The gym was empty, as it was a Saturday and most students preferred to sleep in. I put on my earphones and connected my phone to the Bluetooth. I found an 80s playlist that was perfect for a jog, with its fast-paced, upbeat music and memorable lyrics. After doing a few warm-up stretches, I hit the treadmill and went for a three-mile run. It felt invigorating. I had never been overly concerned about my weight, but I did enjoy staying fit.

Since high school, a lot had changed. There were no additional classes or pressures, no volleyball games, and nothing that made me feel like I was still living in Forks. Back then, I had put so much pressure on myself to be perfect, but that wasn't who I was anymore. Perfect people don't do the things I did, and now that they were done, there was no going back. I could either let my actions consume me with guilt or learn from my mistakes and become a better person. That's what I was doing now, embracing every day with renewed energy and a positive outlook.

When I returned to my dorm room, I picked up my phone, which I had left charging. I noticed a missed call from Angela. I activated my voicemail and smiled upon hearing her voice, as it had been a few weeks since we last spoke.

"Hey Jess, it's me. Listen, don't worry. Everything is fine," Angela paused briefly "But Mike got into a bit of a scrape over the weekend. He crashed his dad's truck, so he's in the hospital back in Forks. I just thought you'd like to know since you are close enough to visit." She continued "He's okay from what I can gather, but I'm sure he'd like to see you. Uh, call me when you get this if you have time. I have to go right now because I have class. But, um, yeah, call me at some point."

The voicemail ended there.

I hadn't seen Mike for a long time and hadn't been back to Forks since I returned for the Cullen wedding. I would have to call Mike or send him something at the hospital, as I had no intentions of going back to Forks. From what Angela had told me, Bella hadn't been in touch with any of the Cullens. She had only called her mom, and even then, it was an entire week after the wedding when she finally made contact. She was fine but wouldn't say where she was. Apparently, Bella had left Forks once, and Edward and his dad tracked her down to convince her to come back. Bella didn't want that happening again.

Every time I thought about Forks, vivid memories of that day would resurface. The way Edward's fingers felt, his breath on my skin, and the sound of his voice when he said Bella's name. I shook those thoughts away. There was no sense in dwelling on them now. It was over. What I had done wasn't smart, but what I did afterward was. I went to my doctor the next day, got the pill, and a complete check-up. I wasn't the type of girl to trap a guy. I was the girl starting her life at college, and I had been responsible. Besides, something in my gut assured me that Edward and Bella would find their way back to each other. What Edward and I did together was a way for him to cope with pain and loss, and I was okay with that. I didn't know what that said about me as a person, but I was learning to accept it.

Living on my own and seeing other people's ways of life beyond my sleepy little town taught me that things can easily consume you. Forks was a sinking ship, and it was one I was not going down with. I had made a mistake and slept with someone who didn't love me. I did it because, in that moment, there was no one and nothing I wanted more. I hadn't tried to contact Edward, and I wouldn't. I hadn't heard from him, and the truth was, I never once expected or hoped to.

It was over, and yet, every single night, I dreamt of Edward Cullen. But, I still faced each day with hope and determination, knowing that I was growing and becoming someone stronger, someone better.

Edward Cullen

I locked the bathroom door behind the second the rest of the family left for the hunt, eagerly undoing my belt buckle, feeling my member straining against my boxers as I freed it. I closed my eyes and began stroking my shaft, my mind instantly thinking of Jessica Stanley, her sweet smile and scent. I'd taken her virginity; I'd defiled her, and I hated myself for it, but I couldn't help but think of it. Jessica may have looked like Bella, but she was everything she wasn't. I knew it was wrong; I knew I shouldn't have done what I did. I loved Bella with all my heart; I always had and I always would, but she was gone.

"Fuck, Bella," I moaned, imagining her here with me now, on her knees for me, her perfect mouth ready to accept me. "Oh, fuck, Bella." I groaned loudly, jerking myself furiously.

I pumped some hand lotion onto my palm and let my imagination do what it needed. I focused on Bella, seeing her slide off her flannel blouse, looking my way and giving me a tiny nod, the scent of her arousal already in the air. I imagined Bella on her hands and knees, arching her perfect petite frame upward so that her rear was presented toward me.

"Do you want it? Hmm?" I muttered, pretending as though Bella were there and asking me this.

"Mmmmm," I said, loving that nod she gave.

But before I could touch her, I shot my load into my hand.

"Fuck," I muttered.

I tried not to make this a habit; in my mind she was capable of being with me, but I knew that wouldn't be the case when I found her. Bella was out there somewhere, and until I knew she was safe, I couldn't stop looking for her. But that didn't mean things would change after that; she didn't want us to be together anymore, and I had to accept that. And more than that, I had to accept the heartbreak and let it consume me; I just kept burying it deeper each day, disappearing into the bathroom, knowing feeling something was better than feeling nothing.

I'd wanted Bella for a long time; I'd even considered going further the night she turned eighteen. But that night had turned into a bloody horror show and changed both of us and our relationship forever. Bella didn't know it, but the morning of her eighteenth birthday, before I met with her at the school, I'd been in this same bathroom, doing what I was doing now. She had no idea how difficult it was for me to deny her of her needs while fighting a losing battle myself.

Masturbating had never been something I did more than a few times a year. I lived with a family that could hear a pin drop, so it was difficult to find alone time. But since Bella left, I'd been unable to control myself like I had done in the past. I'd find myself sneaking off and making excuses not to go to places with my family in order to be alone and do what I was doing now. The last time had been only two weeks ago; I'd driven my car across town and parked down the street from Bella's house. I couldn't stop myself; I imagined going through her bedroom window and finding her there waiting for me in that same blue t-shirt and underwear she'd been wearing the first time we kissed.

I just needed to know she was safe, so I was following every possible lead, but because Bella had heard my stories about how my family and I had managed to remain hidden throughout the years, she knew a trick or two herself and was using it now to her advantage. I decided to shower and wash away the traces of what I had done.

Steam billowed around me as I stepped out of the bathroom, freshly showered. The warmth of the steam lingered on my skin, and the scent of pine and wet earth from Esme and Carlisle's recent hunt mingled with the crisp, clean air of our home. As I made my way across the hallway toward my bedroom to dress, the soft sounds of Carlisle and Esme's conversation floated through the open spaces. Their voices, a gentle murmur, carried effortlessly on the still air. They must have found something close by to be back so quickly.

Their quiet discussion grew clearer as I focused. Carlisle's voice, always calm and measured, held a faint undertone of concern.

"I saw Mike Newton in the hospital," he said. "He got into a car crash over the weekend. They rushed him to the E.R."

My interest peaked, and I slowed my pace to listen more intently. The hallway was lined with framed photographs—moments frozen in time that hinted at the long, complex history of our family.

"How is he?" Esme asked, her voice tinged with the motherly worry that never ceased to comfort me.

"He was very lucky," Carlisle replied. "He has a few broken ribs, a fractured wrist, and there was some bleeding around his bladder, but he'll recover."

I could almost visualize Esme's relieved nod through the walls, her expression softening as she absorbed Carlisle's words.

Carlisle continued, "I had no idea he was even in the hospital until I crossed paths with his parents and Angela Webber. Since then, I've seen more than a few familiar faces from the school roaming the halls."

I reached my bedroom, the largest in the house, with its floor-to-ceiling windows offering an unobstructed view of the dense forest outside. The room was sparsely decorated, a testament to my minimalist taste, with a grand piano in one corner and a bookshelf filled with classic literature in another. As I began to dress, I couldn't help but wonder if Jessica Stanley was among those visitors. She always had a particular interest in Mike, and I knew she would be concerned for him.

The thought of the bustling human world, with its intricate web of relationships and emotions, was almost foreign to me now, yet it never ceased to intrigue me. I sighed, pulling on a fresh shirt. Despite the distance I maintained, I couldn't entirely detach myself from their lives. I found myself hoping, for Mike's sake, that his recovery would be swift and uncomplicated. Jessica's possible return to Forks stirred something within me. Her lively, curious nature had always stood out, and I could almost picture her concerned face as she navigated the corridors of the hospital, her concern for Mike palpable. The delicate balance between my immortal existence and their fleeting human lives was a constant reminder of the world I had left behind but could never fully escape.

In my experience, vampires were always conscious of human vulnerability and mortality. But I didn't perceive such vulnerability in Jessica. Instead, I saw her strength in her determination and resourcefulness, traits she demonstrated in high school. When I recalled our brief encounters and conversations, she struck me as a vibrant, capable individual. Mike had a tendency to dominate any interaction with his ego, which, given his background, was understandable. Yet Bella had spoken so well of him during the time I was gone; he hadn't asked her out, but they'd gone to the cinema with Jacob Black, and from what I remembered of the story, it wasn't exactly a night he would want to remember.

I couldn't imagine a world in which I visited Mike in the hospital; I didn't want to cross paths with any of his friends or family. Though a phone call might be possible.

If anything, it would settle any question about whether or not Jessica had returned to Forks.

A/N: There must be lots of questions buzzling around now! Where is Bella? How proud are you all of Jessica for staying away? How do we feel about heartbroken Edward? You have to tell me all of this in the comments below.