Hopeless Devotion ~ A Jasper Hale Story

Chapter Nine - Clarity

Thursday September 7th

The house was too quiet for how much was wrong inside it.

Bella and I sat curled together on the white couch like we were trying to take up less space than we deserved. The cushions dipped beneath us, soft but unyielding, as if even the furniture was aware of how fragile everything felt. Warm quilted blankets—Mom's doing—were tucked around our shoulders and legs, mismatched but familiar. They smelled faintly like detergent and something floral, home in a way Forks never quite managed to be.

I lifted the can of Dr. Pepper to my lips and took a careful sip. It was the only soda Carlisle had reluctantly cleared—small amounts, occasionally—and I was clinging to it like a lifeline. Sugar, caffeine, bubbles. Normal things. Baby-approved normal.

Bella leaned into my side, curled inward, one hand resting protectively over her stomach. She looked... bad. Worse than yesterday.

Dark circles bruised the skin beneath her eyes, deep and unmistakable. Her face was pale, almost translucent, her skin stretched tight over sharp cheekbones. Her lips were dry, colorless. Her hair was pulled into a loose knot on top of her head, strands slipping free like she hadn't had the energy to fight them.

I knew I didn't look like that. Not yet at least.

I looked better—healthier, even—but the similarities were there if you knew where to look. The same guarded posture. The same careful breathing. In the same way my hand never strayed far from my stomach.

The knock at the door echoed louder than it should have.

My jaw tightened instantly. "You've got to be kidding me."

Bella shifted beside me. "Jacob."

"Obviously," I muttered, rolling my eyes. My hormones flared hot and fast, irritation bubbling up before I could stop it. "Can we not? Just—postpone? Delay? Lie?"

"They all want to," Bella said quietly. "But why?"

I turned to look at her. "Because once he knows, he'll react. Loudly. Dramatically. With opinions."

She sighed. "Are we keeping secrets from Jacob too? What's the point?"

Before I could argue, she raised her voice. "Come in, please, Jacob."

Traitor.

The door opened, and Jacob stepped inside—tall, tense, familiar. His eyes scanned the room, stopping short when they landed on Bella. His expression shifted immediately, concern sharpening into alarm.

Carlisle stood a few feet behind him, hands folded, face carefully neutral.

Jacob took another step forward—and then stopped.

The room came into focus around him: the white couch. Bella and me curled together beneath blankets. Rosalie hovering too close, tension wound tight in every line of her body.

Bella's stomach clenched.

She leaned forward suddenly.

Rosalie was already moving, grabbing the bin from beside the couch and holding it up just in time. Bella retched violently, her whole body shaking with it.

I pushed myself forward on instinct—and then gagged.

"Seriously?" I hissed, scrambling for my own bin as Jasper appeared at my side like he'd been summoned. He held it steady while I dry-heaved, sympathy nausea in full force.

When it passed, he handed me a water bottle, unscrewed already. I rinsed my mouth, swallowing carefully.

Bella wiped her lips with trembling fingers. "Sorry about that," she whispered.