Hopeless Devotion ~ A Jasper Hale Story

Part 4 - Wedding

I woke before the light.

Not because of nerves—those came later—but because the house felt different. Charged. As if the air itself knew what day it was.

The rain had stopped sometime in the early hours. Fog pressed softly against the windows instead, curling low over the trees, muting the world into shades of gray and green. Forks at its most reverent.

For a moment, I stayed still, listening.

Charlie's house was quiet—no footsteps, no clatter of mugs. Even the birds seemed to be holding back. I curled my fingers into the quilt, grounding myself in the familiar texture, because by tonight, ordinary would be gone.

I sat up slowly.

My room felt smaller than it had yesterday. The boxes stacked neatly in the corner—books labeled, clothes folded, pieces of my life categorized and ready—made everything feel temporary. Like a place I was already leaving.

The dress wasn't here.

Alice had absolutely refused.

"No," she'd said brightly, already dragging the garment bag away. "You don't get to stare at it and unravel the timeline. Trust me."

I trusted her.

I showered first, letting the water stay hot longer than necessary, letting it rinse away the faint trace of forest smoke still clinging to my hair from the battle days ago. I used the lavender soap Esme had left on the counter—calming, she'd said—and the scent lingered even after I shut the water off.

My reflection in the mirror looked... older.

Not aged. Just settled.

I pulled on a soft robe and padded back into my room, brushing my hair carefully, stroke by stroke. Outside, the fog thinned, light brightening just enough to promise morning without fully committing to it.

A knock sounded at my door.

"Hey," Bella's voice said softly. "You decent?"

"Always," I called.

She slipped inside, hair still damp, wearing one of my old hoodies like she belonged there. She looked nervous in that way she got when something mattered too much to articulate.

"You okay?" she asked.

I smiled. "Ask me again in an hour."

She snorted, relief flickering across her face, and sat on the edge of the bed. We didn't say much after that. We didn't need to. We'd always been good at sharing silence.

Alice arrived next—of course she did—nearly vibrating with energy, followed by Rosalie, Esme, and a very begrudging Leah Clearwater, who lingered in the doorway like she was prepared to bolt at any second.

"I'm only here because I promised," Leah muttered.

"And because you love her," Esme said gently.

Leah huffed, but she didn't leave.

The house filled quickly after that—soft voices, the scent of coffee, Alice directing traffic like a general with a vision she refused to explain. My hair was styled slowly, carefully, curled and pinned until it felt both like mine and something new. Makeup followed—light, natural, Alice's version of ethereal.

"Still you," she promised.

I believed her.

When it was finally time to change, Alice shooed everyone out except Esme and Bella.

The dress waited for me in the other room.

Even on the hanger, it stole the air from my lungs.

White, soft as fog, the bodice structured and delicate, the sleeves sheer and blooming with floral lace. It looked like something grown rather than sewn—like the forest itself had decided to offer me a gift.