Well here we are - it's the final chapter. I've enjoyed being able to update this little story so regularly, in future I think I might write multichaps ahead before posting just like I did with this one. Thanks for reading and reviewing and Happy New Year to you all!

Venis-envy rules for betaing this even while she was getting ready to go out for New Year's Eve. She rocks and I would so make out with her any day. Love you, bb.

Chapter 7: Saviour

Four days later, I'm working on a wood carving in my kitchen, just the way my father taught me to. I haven't carved anything in years, but something drove me to get out my knife and sculpt the rough, ugly wood into something beautiful. I've got a mind to make something for James- probably another farmyard animal to add to his wooden toy collection. Carefully considering the angle, I slide the metal through the piece I'm holding in my hand. I follow the line of the grain, and the blade cuts through it easily, the slice of wood falling to the table below. A clean cut, just like the one Bella inflicted upon me when she left so abruptly, filling my head with endless questions. Rarely, if ever, has more than a day or two gone by without some contact from her. I've been trying not to think of it, but there is little distraction to be found. I'm afraid that I've been given a brief glimpse of something I can never have. However, I can't feel as guilty as I should. For that, I feel I've betrayed Edward's memory even further.

A sound makes me stop in my tracks. It sounds like the knock of a hand on the heavy wooden door, but I ignore it, thinking my imagination is playing tricks on me. Until the sound comes again, this time louder. In spite of everything, my heart soars. I get to my feet slowly, even if I long to the door and pull it open. If I do that, there's no doubt it'll be the postman, butcher or some equally mundane person. It won't be her. I want it to be her.

Please.

With sweating hands, I unlatch the lock and there Bella is. Her hair's windswept and flowing down her back, and her cheeks are a delightful hue of pink, either from the cold or the fact that she rushed here. I can't help but hope it's the latter.

"You look cold," is all I say, and I immediately wish that I'd chosen a better opening line. However, she smiles and I feel a little of the chill inside me begin to melt away.

"It's freezing out there." Her voice is neutral, but I'm happy that we're at least able to manage some semblance of conversation after the terrible finality of several days ago.

"Come in, I'll light the fire."

"Thank you, Jasper."

I take her coat and hang it on the old teak stand before I go and make some tea, gesturing for her to sit in the parlour. I bring the tea through, light the oil lamps and set the fire crackling in the grate. By the time I turn back to her, she's taken a seat on the parlour sofa. Her hands are in her lap and one crossed leg is jiggling as if she's impatient.

"How's James?"

"He's crawling!" she tells me, her eyes shining with excitement. "It's the first time he's actually started doing it properly, and unfortunately, there's no stopping him. Mum and I are always having to watch him like a hawk, bless him. He wants to get into everything."

"I'll come over and see him soon. I just didn't want to-" She cheerfully cuts me off before I can say something we'll both regret.

"He misses his Uncle Jasper." I suppose it's strange that I'm known as that, but then, I may as well be his uncle. Edward and I were like brothers. That thought sends a wave of pain through me, and I sigh, trying to block it out.

"What was that on the table?" she asks suddenly, her eyebrows arching. "It was a piece of wood you were carving, but what are you making?"

"Just something for James," I say, feeling my face grow hot. I'm not sure why I feel embarrassed to admit this to her, but I don't want her to feel like I'm only doing this for her sake. Because I'm not. I love that little boy too, and am inexorably bound to him through my friend's memory. "I thought he might like a new toy. I was going to do a duck, to go with all the sheep and cows he has. A new addition to the farmyard."

Bella's expression is impenetrable as she focuses on the carpet, but then she looks up and I can see that her eyes are moist. "Oh, Jasper," she begins softly, "that's lovely. Really. But you don't have to do it."

"I know I don't. I want to."

Her gaze is full of all the things we can't say to each other, but I'm not sure how much longer I can keep up the pretence of normality. I want to know if she meant everything she said to me that day. Even if it wounds me deeply, I would still rather know even if she doesn't have any regard for me whatsoever.

"I thought you wouldn't want to come back," I burst out, unable to avoid bringing up the one thing we feel as if we can't discuss.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, running a hand through her hair. The dark waves catch the firelight as they tumble back down, bringing out the highlights in her hair. "I had to think. I've done a lot of thinking these past four days, and I still haven't stumbled upon any answers."

Part of me thrills at the idea she isn't flat out telling me that this can't be, but another part of me wonders if she just hasn't come to that conclusion yet. "Do you think it was wrong?" I ask, knowing what I believe.

"I knew that it should be," she replies, taking a tentative sip of her tea. "But it didn't feel wrong at all. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. And I was scared because it felt that way. That's why I left so suddenly."

"I'm so sorry I made you cry."

"You didn't," she says, shaking her head. "It's just that I miss him...and at the same time, I feel something for you too."

"What do you feel?" I whisper, clutching my cup so hard I'm afraid it's going to shatter in my hand.

"I care about you more than I wanted to admit that day. It's why I came to you. It wasn't that I wanted you to make love to me just so I could forget about my dead husband." Her voice quavers on the last words, and my throat constricts. "I needed you."

"I wasn't just seeking comfort either," I half-whisper, aware that my breathing is shallow and uneven. "I needed you too. But I don't feel like I'm worthy. You're so beautiful and strong and brave and a wonderful mother, and I'm...I'm nothing. Ever since I came back, I'm a broken man. I barely sleep because of the dreams I have, and it'll be decided soon by a doctor whether he deems me psychologically fit for work. Why would you want someone like that?"

"Because I do!" she says, moving over to sit on the arm of my chair and take my hand in hers. Her fingers are warm as they link into my own cold ones. "You've been so kind to me, and every moment when I've needed someone, you've always been there. And I know you love my son as well as his father would have. Because you loved his father too."

"Yes." I hope she can't see the tears that prick at my eyes through the gloom of the oil lamp.

"You're not nothing to me."

I swallow, struggling to believe what she's telling me. "You don't have to say that."

"I know I don't have to. I want to," she replies with a brittle smile, echoing my previous words. "I mean it."

In spite of myself, my heartbeat skitters, its erratic rhythm pounding in my ears as I attempt to process the idea that perhaps Bella really feels something for me too. I take her other hand in mine, running my thumb over each of her fingers in turn. It's a soothing gesture, but whether it's too soothe me or her, I'm not sure. Part of me thinks I should just lay my cards on the table, and the worst she could say is no. On the other hand, another part is terrified of losing her company through my own misinterpretation of the signals.

"You feel something too?" I ask, my voice weak.

"Yes," she whispers, shifting closer to me.

"Bella, I'm only going to say this once," I begin, aware that my hands are shaking in hers. "If you don't agree, we can never speak of it again, and I promise I'll never mention it. I miss Edward every day, and I don't think there'll ever be a day where I won't. He was my best friend, and your husband, and I know you'll always love him. I'm not asking you to stop, and I'm not asking you to forget him. I know you can't." There's a tear in my eye that's threatening to fall, but I press on regardless, unable to even look at her. I'm too afraid to see her face right now. If I do, I might lose my nerve. "I don't want to replace him, and to try to would disrespect the memory of a friend I cared for so much."

My eyes are wet, and I chance a look at her. Her expression is soft, open, as if she's listening to every word I'm saying. She squeezes my hand, allowing me to continue. "Bella, I love you. Please don't think that the other day was merely about my own selfish need. It made me realise that I want more than that. You deserve more than that. If you'd even think of it, I'd marry you in an instant. It isn't just because I promised him I'd take care of you. I fell in love with you for my own reasons, even if I didn't plan for it to happen. I respect you, I admire you and there's no-one else I feel happier around. And I promise you, I'll look after James like he's my own." Her breathing hitches, and I fear that I've gone too far, but she doesn't move from her spot on the arm of the chair, and her hands remain linked into mine.

There are tears in her eyes as I finish, and I hold my breath, afraid to hear her answer. "You don't have to prove yourself to me, Jasper." Her fingers reach up to trace the line of my slightly unshaven jaw, and I can't help but shiver. "I love you too. It's taken me time to admit it to myself. I was afraid of what it would mean, so I tried to ignore it, but I'm tired of hiding it. If I didn't feel the same, I never would have let you make love to me like that. I knew before it happened that I loved you, but I was afraid to tell you. I was afraid you'd think that I'd want you only for my own convenience, or to have a replacement father for my son. But that isn't true at all. You made me feel alive when I'd forgotten how to be." A tear trickles down her cheek, and I brush it away with the pad of my thumb.

"You have no idea how alive you make me feel," I murmur, unable to stop myself planting a soft kiss on her cheek. "But I can't ever be him to you."

"Jasper," she says, a little more firmly even if her voice is still tremulous, "I don't want you to be him. I love you for you - for everything you do for me and my family, for your compassion, and for the way you understand me better than anyone. I love you because even when I'd left so abruptly the other day, your first thought was to make my son a toy. I know it wasn't to try and impress me, either. You'd look after him like your own, because in a way, he is. You and his father were like brothers, and I know every day without him is just as hard for you as it is for me." The tears are pouring down her face now, and I'm still afraid to let my breath go, not knowing if she'll give me my answer right now. She strokes my jaw gently, our faces so close now that our noses are practically touching. "I want you to know I'd never marry anyone unless they loved my son that much, regardless of how they felt about me. When you told me you were making that for James, I realised just how much you cared for us both. I wasn't afraid or ashamed. I knew that I'd fallen in love with you."

"Will you?" I ask, aware of the trepidation in my voice.

"My answer is yes," she whispers through trembling lips.

The cup falls from my hand and tea spills on to the carpet, rivulets of beige liquid soaking into the fibres, but I barely notice. I'm so overwhelmed with joy, and the unfamiliarity of that feeling, that I don't even stop to think before I pull her into my lap. Her arms wind round my neck as my fingers twist into her hair, and then her mouth finds mine. We need not deny ourselves any longer. Waves of pleasure surge in my brain as I taste her lips, letting out a groan into her mouth as it moulds to mine so perfectly. Hesitation and shame fall away as we finally allow ourselves to fully give in to one another. Our lips move instinctively together in an urgent kiss full of everything we couldn't admit until now. The kiss is sweet yet insistent, nothing careful or hesitant about it now all doubt has fallen. I scrape my teeth over her bottom lip and she lets out a tiny moan into my mouth. Momentarily, we break apart, our breathing swift and shallow.

"Yes?" I murmur, confirming what I already know. I tenderly tuck a tendril of hair behind her ear that my fingers have worked lose, and she smiles.

"Yes," she breathes, kissing the corner of my lip and all the way down to my jaw and the hollow of my neck. I shudder and don't object when she begins to undo the buttons at my collar. However, after several are undone, I close my hand over hers and gently stop her.

"What is it?" she asks nervously.

"Not like this," I tell her, kissing her gently to reassure her. "Let me carry you upstairs first."

She laughs. "It is the parlour, after all. It's rather improper to be undoing a gentleman's buttons in the parlour. I don't know what I was thinking."

"When we're upstairs, I promise you I'll be undoing every one of your buttons," I murmur in her ear, my teeth grazing the delicate shell of it, and she sighs.

I slide my hands under her and lift her, taking care not to drop her as I ascend the creaking staircase. When I reach my room and lay Bella down on the familiar bed, I pause for a moment as I lean over her. With one glance, I let her know how exquisite she is and how lucky I feel right now. I let my eyes appreciate every inch of her – the bloom of her soft skin, the slowly growing smile on her lips, the way her hair fans out against the pillowcase. Getting up for a moment, I kick the door closed, even though there's no-one else around. In this room, we're the inhabitants of our own perfect world, and neither of us will allow anything to spoil it just now.

There's no fear or hesitation as we traverse each other's bodies with hands and mouths; naked skin on skin. My love for her burns in my entire being as our bodies finally join seamlessly. I'm slow at first, wanting to be gentle and careful, but when her nails dig into my scalp, it sparks something inside me and our lovemaking becomes rougher and more desperate. With every second we move against each other, I let her know how much she's given me. As she reaches her peak, I can't hold back any longer and fall into the abyss right after her, a muttered "I love you" on my lips as my head falls to her neck. Her mouth finds mine in a sweet kiss before we collapse in a sated, sweaty tangle of limbs. I notice that there are tears on her lashes and I kiss each eyelid, brushing the moisture away.

I'm conscious of the time and after a few precious minutes spent in each other's arms, we have to break the spell and return to reality once more. I know she needs to get home to her family, and so we quickly dress and make ourselves presentable. I offer to walk her, but she shakes her head, pointing out it isn't even dark and she lives so close. Besides, it would look a little suspicious if I came back with her after her being away for so long. As she turns to leave, I seize her elbow as she's stepping out the door and pull her back into my arms for one last kiss. She protests at first, but then laughs into my mouth as she succumbs to my ardour.

"Goodnight," she whispers, rounding the corner before she vanishes. The sky is streaked with the violet and pink of dusk, and briefly, I lean against the doorway, just marvelling at its beauty. I haven't appreciated the simple wonders like a sunset in so long, but the intense happiness that burns inside me like a flame seems to enhance everything around. I'm still painfully aware of everything that led us to this point, but right now, I won't allow myself to dwell on it. I can't feel anything right now but the shock and awe that this amazing woman has just agreed to be my wife.

...

Years pass, and against all odds, the pieces of my shattered life begin to fit themselves back together. Bella and I initially fear the reactions of others, however, those we love gladly give us their blessing with no ill-considered judgements. I'm surprised that when I tell Edward's mother, even she understands, and tells me that I'll be a wonderful father to her grandchild. I marry Bella in the spring in a simple ceremony attended by her friends and family, and then she and James move into the cottage with me. I can think of no better way to honour the memories of my parents than to carry on living in the house they loved so much. Bella and I move into the long-forgotten master bedroom and make it our own, while I turn my childhood bedroom into a room for James. Seeing my adoptive son grow is every reward I need, even if it's tinged with a slight sadness when I see he looks more and more like Edward every day. He has the green eyes, the copper-coloured hair and even his father's mischievous smile, worn usually whenever he's driven me or his mother to distraction with a "gwame" that leaves a trail of chaos throughout the whole house.

Bella herself runs our home with a quiet grace, and at first, never seems anything but content. One day, I catch her in the yard crying over the coal-scuttle and realise that she still finds it as hard without him as I do. Of course, she selflessly feared I'd find it too difficult if she was open about it, but I assure her that's not the case. She resolves not to hide things from me, and then I hold her until the tears stop. From that moment onwards, we're able to talk of Edward a little, and she puts up a faded photograph of him in uniform in the hall. No longer is the little cottage devoid of warmth. Instead it's filled with the laughter and contentment of a loving family. Nothing is ever perfect, of course. I still have nightmares for the longest time, but she understands. On the nights I wake up soaked in sweat, her gentle, soothing touch is all I need to fall back to sleep. I'll never get back those years of my life I lost, but I am slowly finding a kind of peace of mind with the woman who inspires a calmness I've never felt before.

Rose and Emmett have their first child, a girl they name Sarah. Her personality's remarkably cheeky, much like her father, but she possesses the sternness of her mother. The three of them visit often, as do Reneé and Edward's parents, much to James' delight, as he adores his grandparents. Near the time of James' second birthday, the doctor signs me off as fit for work. Glad to be able to provide for my family as a man should, I take a job as a clerk in a mid-sized shipping company, but quickly advance and within a year or two hold a managerial post. We're able to afford a comfortable living, but see no need to give up the home that we love so well for something larger and more ostentatious.

One summer evening, we take a walk down the East pier as a family, listening to the faint sound of the band further up the beach on the promenade. It's a balmy night, and the sea spray carried on the breeze is pleasantly cool. I'm holding five-year James' hand, and when he protests at not being able to see the sea properly, I lift him up and carefully hold him at the edge of the railings so he can see over the top. I'm painfully reminded that this was the very place I considered ending my life just a few short years ago. The contrast is palpable, warmth and fulfilment superseding the cold emptiness that was once my life.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Bella says, her hand slipping into mind.

"Yes," I reply, wanting to kiss her on the cheek but afraid my concentration will slip and send our little boy tumbling into the sea. Instead, she presses her lips to my ear, and I smile.

"There are so many stars," James pipes up, obviously feeling ignored, and we laugh. Following his gaze, Bella and I look up into the inky darkness. It's an impossibly clear night, the sky clustered with bright sprinklings of stars. "Gemini...Orion...Leo..." he mutters, pointing in the vague direction of the constellations. He always likes to look at the night sky, and I see that he's paid attention to the astronomy book I've been reading to him in the evenings. "Is my Daddy one of those stars?"

Bella squeezes my hand, and we exchange a look. "Somewhere, yes. A really bright one," I tell James, and he nods, apparently satisfied. He's starting to get heavy so I set him down on the pier again, and the three of us turn to walk back. He's too young right now, but someday I'll tell James everything about his father. The old journal that I've long since stopped writing in always serves as a reminder, however painful it may be. I'll tell him how Edward was my best friend, a wonderful man and a brave soldier.

"Look, the sea's so calm," Bella suddenly says, and I look down to see the waves gently brushing against the shoreline. It's as calm as I've ever seen this rough sea, and I can't help but be mesmerised. Just for a minute or two, we stand and watch the waves, each holding one of James' hands. Finally, I understand the promise I made, and I know that every day that goes by, I'm keeping it.

That wasn't a long story, but it was never intended to be and I'm happy with how I ended it - Jasper's finally at peace. I was probably about to run out of 30 Seconds To Mars song titles that fit the chapters anyway, hehe. I originally wrote this as a long oneshot but then decided it might work better as a short multi-chap. Thanks for reading and let me know what you thought of how it ended. xxx