Hopeless Devotion ~ A Jasper Hale Story

Chapter 22 - Unspoken Truths

The house was way too quiet for a Saturday.

Bella had vanished into her room hours ago, muttering something about needing space to think. That was her new favorite excuse. Lately, she was always off in some mental fog—staring out the window like a ghost, looping the same depressing songs until I wanted to chuck the stereo out the window, or scribbling furiously in her journal like she was decoding some tragic cipher with half the letters missing.

I'd already worn a groove into the carpet from pacing. Cleaned a spotless kitchen. Tried to do some homework—ha. That lasted all of five minutes before my brain decided to go rogue. Every thought led straight back to Jasper. Or Bella. Or Jacob, whose weird behavior was starting to register as less "teenage boy" and more "someone spiked his Kool-Aid with testosterone and secrets."

Something was off. Forks felt off. Like the air itself was holding its breath.

I stared at my phone, debating.

Screw it.

If Bella could check out, then so could I. I needed a break too—just not the curl-up-under-a-blanket kind. More like... get-out-before-I-lose-my-mind kind.

I scrolled until I hit Leah Clearwater's name and tapped before I could change my mind.

Two rings.

"What?" she snapped. No "hello." Just pure suspicion, like she expected me to be the Grim Reaper with bad news.

"Relax," I said, smirking even though she couldn't see it. "Not the IRS. Just me. You busy?"

A pause. Then a sigh. "Not really. Why?"

"I need to get out of this house before I start lecturing the wallpaper. You wanna hang out?"

"...Yeah. Sure."

We ended up near the shoreline. Not technically First Beach, but close enough to taste the salt in the wind. I brought coffee. Leah brought her usual death glare and a windbreaker zipped halfway up like armor.

"Everything okay with Bella?" she asked after a long stretch of quiet, her gaze locked on the crashing waves like they might answer for her.

I shrugged. "Define 'okay.' She's doing her favorite thing—getting lost in her own head. I figured we both needed some air before we started screaming into pillows."

Leah nodded but didn't say anything. Typical.

We walked the beach for a while, not really talking. Just two girls kicking at driftwood and seaweed like we were twelve again and the world hadn't started lying to us yet. The silence wasn't awkward, though. It just... was.

Eventually, I broke it. "So... are you always this twitchy, or did Jasper's name just hit a nerve?"

She flinched. Barely. But I saw it. I always see it. Living with the Cullens tuned me into every tiny flicker of expression—every breath that came a half-second too late.

"I'm not twitchy," she shot back, too sharp, too fast.

"Mmhmm." I arched a brow. "Sure."

"I just don't like the Cullens," she muttered. "Or anything about them."

"Funny," I said, watching her. "Jacob told me this story once. Something about cold ones making a deal with the tribe. I think the name was Cullen. Ring a bell?"

Her jaw clenched so tight I thought she might crack a molar.

"No?" I pressed. "Because that would be one hell of a coincidence."

Leah's voice dropped. "I'm not supposed to talk about that."

I stepped in front of her, blocking her path. "I didn't ask you to. I'm just connecting dots. Like the way you reacted to Jasper's name. Or how Jacob's suddenly allergic to shirts and running a 24/7 fever. Or how Sam and his little crew are jumping off cliffs like they're practicing for a werewolf-themed Olympics."

That one hit. Her eyes lit up—equal parts guilt and... something else. Protective. Fierce.

I backed off a step, giving her space to breathe. "Look, I'm not trying to blow up anyone's secrets. But I've been swimming in supernatural drama since last year. I'm not stupid, and I'm not your enemy. I'm just trying to stop the people I care about from completely self-destructing."

Leah looked away. Her voice softened just enough to feel real. "You don't know everything, Tiffany."

"No," I agreed. "But I know enough to be scared."

We let the silence stretch again. The tide was creeping up the sand, cool and relentless.

"You're different," she said finally.

I let out a short, humorless laugh. "That's one word for it."

"No, I mean it." She glanced at me, eyes unreadable. "You're not like Bella. You don't pretend not to see the ugly stuff. You face it."

That one I didn't know how to respond to. It sounded like a compliment. But maybe it was a warning.

"Come on," Leah said, turning toward the path. "Let's get something to eat before you start psychoanalyzing the crabs."

I snorted and followed, my boots crunching against wet sand. I let her joke distract me, but my mind didn't stop spinning. Jacob. Sam. Leah. Secrets that were getting too close to the surface. I could feel the shape of something big coming—I just didn't know what it was yet.

Later that night, Bella was still holed up in her room and Charlie was dead to the world in his recliner, snoring softly like he didn't know the universe was falling apart around us.

I slipped outside into the cool night, heart pounding like a traitor.

My thumb hovered, then tapped the number I shouldn't still know by heart.

It rang once.

"Hello?"

His voice. Warm and low. A shot of velvet straight to my ribs. It hurt.

"Jasper," I breathed. "I had to hear your voice."

There was a pause—just long enough for my heart to stutter.

"I was hoping you'd call."

And just like that, everything else faded. Forks. The secrets. The ache. It all went quiet.

For now, I had him. Even if it was just in secret.