Hopeless Devotion ~ A Jasper Hale Story

Chapter 13 - Clearwater Dinner

Sunday, January 18th

"Bella?" Charlie's voice cut through the trees, a familiar rumble that pulled us both back to reality. I straightened, glancing toward the sound just as Bella muttered, "Shoot."

"Coming!" she called, quick on her feet, tugging Jacob with her like a conspirator in a B-movie plot. He snapped the garage light off, plunging the space into sudden darkness. A second later, I felt a rough, warm hand wrap around mine. Jacob. Great.

His feet found the path with confidence; mine didn't. I stumbled once and cursed under my breath, but he just laughed like we were in on the same joke. Bella joined him, her laughter light and a little shaky. I didn't laugh. Not because I didn't want to, but because that weird twinge in my chest kept rising every time I saw her with him—like watching someone play with fire and thinking, Yeah, that's gonna blow up eventually.

We emerged into the clearing, damp and breathless. Charlie was waiting, already clocking Bella and Jacob's interlocked fingers with narrowed eyes. I caught the flash of concern there, and something softer, too—relief, maybe. He was just glad Bella was smiling again. I understood that. But still, it was strange to see her start to lean on someone new.

"Billy invited us for dinner," Charlie said. I caught his tone. Distracted. Processing. Probably wondering what the hell was going on.

"My super secret recipe for spaghetti. Handed down for generations," Billy said with mock solemnity from the doorway.

Jacob snorted. "I don't think Ragù's actually been around that long."

I smirked at that. At least someone here had a sense of humor.

Inside the house, things got chaotic fast. Harry Clearwater and his family were already there. Sue was kind but clearly stressed, teasing Harry about his health while trying to wrangle him into leafy greens. Leah, stunning as ever, looked bored and tethered to Billy's phone like it was life support. I knew her in passing from school—not someone I vibed with. She had her circle, and I had mine. Well, used to.

I missed the Cullens.

Even surrounded by this noisy crowd, my mind drifted—back to the quiet elegance of their home, the way Jasper used to look at me like I was the only person in the room. I didn't let my face show it, not here, not now. But the ache was always there, just under my ribs.

Jacob held court with Seth, who looked at him like he hung the damn moon. Bella was tucked close, smiling more than she had in weeks. I watched her, trying to decide how I felt about it. It wasn't jealousy exactly. Just... dissonance. She wasn't the only one who'd lost them.

The rain eventually chased us all apart, and I slipped into the shadows while Charlie and Harry talked about fishing like it was the answer to everything. On the ride home, Bella kept the conversation light, dodging anything too personal. Charlie looked satisfied. Me? I kept my thoughts to myself.

Let her have this little detour, I thought. But she's still on a crash course—and I'm not sure she even sees it coming.

The yard was buzzing with overlapping voices and the scent of spaghetti drifting through the damp Washington air. People talked over one another, interrupting, laughing, reaching for seconds. Jacob was in the middle of it all, grinning, talking with Seth like he had all the time in the world. Bella sat close, her laugh soft but real, like she was remembering how to breathe again. I kept to the edge of the crowd, one foot hooked under my folding chair, chewing without tasting. This wasn't my kind of crowd.

It wasn't that I disliked any of them—Sue was kind, Harry was funny, and Charlie... well, Charlie was trying. But they weren't my people.

My people had left Forks.

And maybe I was still mad about that.

The Cullens had been my family. My safe place. My home. Now it was just Bella and me again, and we'd never been the type to share deep secrets over popcorn and manicures. She was easing into this new world of bonfires and grease and wolfish smiles. I was still on the outside, arms crossed.

That's when I noticed her—Leah Clearwater. She'd been on Billy's phone for most of the evening, her back to the group, jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might snap. She was beautiful in that way that warned you not to cross her. I respected that kind of beauty. She didn't smile, didn't bother pretending. She looked how I felt.

I wandered over, pretending to look for a drier patch of grass for my drink.

"You look thrilled," I muttered.

Leah glanced at me sideways, eyes cool and unreadable. "Family dinners. Just what every girl wants on a Friday night."

I snorted. "Especially when they come with spaghetti and passive-aggressive cholesterol jokes."

That earned the tiniest twitch at the corner of her mouth.

"You're Bella's sister?" she asked, voice low.

"Unfortunately." I sipped from the plastic cup. "Tiffany."

She nodded. "Leah."

We didn't shake hands.

For a few minutes, we just stood there, quiet, watching everyone else. Jacob laughed too loudly at something Bella said. Seth nearly spilled his plate trying to mimic him.

"They worship him," Leah said without any real bite. Just... tiredness.

"Bella's halfway there already," I said, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.

Another silence. Comfortable this time.

"I get it," Leah finally said. "Losing someone. Watching them move on like nothing happened."

My throat tightened. I didn't respond right away.

"Yeah," I said eventually. "Me too."

We didn't need to say who we meant. The names hung between us anyway—Sam. Jasper. Different stories, same ache.

We stayed there until the rain started again, not talking, not needing to. Two girls with sharp edges, sharing the same storm.