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Author of 20 Stories |
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: This was my entry in the All Hallows Eve Contest and it won first place! Thanks to everyone who voted for it - and thanks to Tiffanyanne3 for beta-ing it, and convincing me to enter it.
Cerulean and Steel
As afternoon bled into evening, I stood gazing out the window at the garden below, pensive yet resigned.
I didn't want to do it. But, like always, I knew I would. I really had no choice
I felt the chill in the air, combined with the heat of his presence. I always knew when he was near. I rubbed at my bare arms to chase away the goosebumps.
"Are you all right?" he asked, drawing near to me, but stopping short of pressing against my back. I didn't have to look down to know his fingers hovered over my skin.
"Fine," I murmured.
"It's time," he said quietly. I felt him withdraw slightly, giving me space…room to breathe.
I sighed. "I know."
"I love you." His whisper drifted on the air.
"I love you, too."
x—x
The city streets were busy, reminding me why I rarely ventured out onto them anymore. The crowds bothered me…the noise…the smells…the rudeness and irritation.
I wandered into a used bookstore, reveling in the quiet serenity of worn leather and musty pages. Browsing up and down the aisles, I idly picked up a coffee table book on Ireland.
Waiting.
Always waiting.
I flipped through the book, the verdant fields and crumbling castles making me smile with nostalgia. I had always wanted to visit the Emerald Isle… but then things had changed… and now there was simply no opportunity.
"Can I help you find something?"
I looked up into a pair of kind blue-gray eyes, crinkled at the corners and framed by a pair of Buddy Holly glasses. A friendly smile lit his face, showing a hint of dimples in his cheeks.
He was just as beautiful as I remembered.
I had first spotted him at the coffee shop across the street. He'd caught my attention because, well, because he was uncommonly attractive – tall and lean, but muscled, with tousled blonde hair and a quick, devilish grin. A quick check revealed no wedding ring. But what really intrigued me was that – despite the fact that the barista ruined his order twice – he still left her a tip, winking at her as he dropped a dollar in the jar before he left the café and walked across the street to the bookstore.
He had a kind heart. That was almost enough to make me leave him alone.
Almost.
Without consciously realizing it, I found myself at the same coffee shop the next morning, waiting for his arrival. Like clockwork, he arrived at the same time – ordering the same drink, leaving the same tip – before heading to work. I tried to talk myself out of it… to find someone else… but I knew it was hopeless.
It would be him.
It had to be him.
So, I had given in to the inevitable and entered his store… waited for him to notice me. Relieved and heartbroken when he finally did.
"I was just admiring this book," I told him with a warm smile. "Do you have anything similar about Scotland?"
He nodded, leading me further into the dark recesses of the bookstore. Reaching to a high shelf, he plucked down a thick volume and handed it to me. I could feel the heat from his body as his arm nearly brushed mine… a tingling that foreshadowed an intimate connection. I wondered if he could feel it too.
"Planning a trip?" he asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.
I chuckled. "I wish," I replied. "I don't get much opportunity to travel, unfortunately. This is the closest I get," I told him, gesturing to the books.
He smiled. "Well, maybe someday."
"Maybe." I licked my lips, my pulse quickening when his eyes registered the movement. "This is a beautiful store. Have you worked here long?"
He shrugged, blushing slightly. "Actually, it's mine. I own it."
"Really?" I didn't have to feign my impressed tone. "That's wonderful. I'd love to be surrounded by books all day."
He ran a hand through his hair. "It suits me." His eyes went to the heavy books. "Let me take those for you."
He helped me to the front of the store, and we exchanged small talk as he rang up my purchases. The store was empty except for us, and he leaned forward on the counter as small talk edged into flirtation.
"You have a beautiful smile." He blushed. Shy.
"Thank you—" My eyes flickered to his name tag. "—Jasper." My voice lowered to a seductive whisper as I tiptoed on the line between alluring and aggressive. My fingers brushed his arm, tracing a small tattoo visible under the cuff of his shirt… the letters "C" and "E" entwined in delicate script.
"For my parents," he explained. "They… passed away. Car accident."
"I'm sorry."
Jasper shrugged. "It was a long time ago."
"Do you have any other family? Brothers or sisters?" I asked, hoping he would say yes… hoping he would say no.
"No… just me." Alone in the world. A wave of sadness and regret washed over me.
"Maybe I could buy you a cup of coffee sometime?" he asked hopefully, his eyes downcast as he drummed his fingers nervously on the counter.
"That would be lovely." I picked up my books, determined not to push for more.
Not yet.
"Wait," he called out. "I don't even know your name."
I paused, my hand on the doorknob. "Isabella," I offered quietly.
"Isabella," he repeated, my name sliding over his tongue. "How can I reach you… for the coffee?"
I smiled sadly back at him. "When are you finished here?"
"Half an hour."
"I'll be at the coffee shop across the street, waiting."
x—x
Coffee led to lunch, which led to dinner and a movie. Jasper was sweet and attentive… shy, but intelligent. He didn't kiss me until a week and four days after we first met… our third official date.
We'd had dinner at a little seafood place and afterward walked along the waterfront, his long, slender fingers wrapped around my hand. We paused at a railing overlooking the lapping waves, and Jasper nervously rubbed at the back of his neck. I felt the tension prickle around us and fought the urge to ask him what he was thinking.
I already knew.
Finally, he heaved a breath and tugged gently on my hand, turning to face me. He licked his lips, his stormy eyes focused on mine, and he leaned down to brush my mouth with a soft kiss. His lips were gentle but firm – hesitant at first – but as he descended again, determination replaced uncertainty and I whimpered under his offensive.
Jasper's hands trailed up my arms to cup my face, his fingers delving into my hair as he tilted my head slightly, his tongue tracing my lips. I opened to him willingly, lust winning out over conscience, and he deepened the kiss.
He was warm… so incredibly warm… and I gave in to the pleasure of our bodies pressed together. The sea breeze whipped and tangled our hair, cocooning us in a web of gold and chocolate. I wanted more… and my hands gripped at Jasper's shirt, pulling him closer.
He moaned my name, his lips not leaving mine before renewing their devastating assault. My defenses – as if I really ever had any – were down, defeated by the desire flashing across my skin and pooling deep within me.
Finally, he slowed, and my body protested with a low groan as he pulled away with one last soft kiss. He pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me and holding me tightly against him. Through his shirt, I felt the heat of his skin against my cheek… the steady beat of his heart… and I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation, if only for a moment.
We grew closer over the coming weeks, the enjoyment of our time together only enhanced by our burgeoning physical relationship. Jasper was one to take it slow… favoring sweet seduction over unbridled passion. His soft caresses and fervent kisses brought me to the brink time and time again, but he never pushed for that ultimate connection… never pressured me in any way, actually.
I feared I was falling in love with him.
x—x
"Friday is Halloween," he said, his arm over my shoulder as he toyed with my hair. We were sitting on an old leather sofa at the bookstore. It was pouring down rain outside, and customers were few and far between. Jasper was reading from a book of short stories by Charles Dickens as I curled into his side, resting my head on his shoulder.
"Are you going trick-or-treating?" I teased, rubbing my fingers lightly over his firm thigh. I tilted my head to press my lips to his neck. "I have a treat for you," I murmured suggestively. He chuckled, leaning down to capture my lips as I smiled into his mouth.
Suddenly, a chill ran down my spine… and words I longed to forget echoed in my mind.
Time is running short… you're my only hope…
"Isabella?" Jasper's concerned gaze snapped me out of my stupor. "Are you all right?"
I smiled shakily. "I guess that ghost story you were reading made me a little jumpy."
Jasper laughed. "Scared of ghosts?" he said with a smirk. "Don't worry… I'll protect you." He kissed me again. "So, about Friday…" he prodded.
"How about dinner?" I asked. "I'll cook… at my place."
Jasper blinked in surprise behind his glasses. "Really?" In the time we'd known each other, he had yet to visit my home.
There was a reason for that, of course… one that would soon become very obvious.
x—x
I left the bedroom, running my trembling hands down my skirt lightly, then adjusting the thin straps of my dress. The doorbell rang as I neared the top of the stairs. With a deep breath, I descended, each step taking me closer to the front door. The dark, heavy wood loomed before me, the door seeming to grow larger with each step I took. I hesitated briefly as I reached for the doorknob, wondering what would happen if I simply didn't open it.
My eyes fluttered closed in frustration. I knew what would happen. And I couldn't let it. The doorbell rang again.
I opened the door to find Jasper standing on my front porch, dressed in dark jeans, a blue button-down, and a worn leather jacket. He wasn't wearing his glasses for a change, and his eyes seemed to sparkle. He clutched a bouquet of Shasta daisies in one hand, a bottle of Chardonnay in the other, and offered them both to me shyly.
"Thank you, Jasper," I said quietly as I accepted the gifts. He leaned in to kiss my cheek softly.
"Happy Halloween," he said with a grin, walking into the foyer. "This is quite a place you have," he added, his eyes roaming the paneled walls and the high ceilings. "How long have you lived here?"
"A while," I replied vaguely, walking into the kitchen to put the flowers in water. Jasper followed behind me, and I could feel him studying my home closely as we walked down the dimly-lit hallway.
"I don't imagine you get too many trick-or-treaters up this way," he said as he leaned against the kitchen counter. "I wasn't sure my car would make it. That driveway must be a bit of a deterrent."
I arranged the daisies in a vase with a small smile. "Among other things," I murmured.
"Other things?"
I shrugged. "The people in town don't come up here much," I explained, eyeing him carefully to gauge his reaction. "They think the place is haunted."
Jasper laughed. "Well, that's one way to keep the door-to-door salesmen away."
I grinned at him. "True. It does have its benefits." I carried the vase into the living room, setting it on a low table. "Why don't you have a seat? Dinner's almost ready. Can I take your coat?" He shrugged out of the jacket and handed it to me before sitting on the sofa in front of the crackling fire. Before hanging Jasper's coat in the hall closet, I pressed it to my face, inhaling his scent to steady my nerves.
I could do this. I had to do this. A cool breeze lifted the hair at my cheek, and I smiled at the comfort it brought me.
"I'm fine," I murmured quietly. Saying the words aloud seemed to help.
I walked back into the living room after pouring two glasses of Jasper's wine. He took his with a smile, clinking it with mine. His eyes went to the portrait hanging over the fireplace.
"Who's that?" he asked.
I swallowed a gulp of wine. "My husband, Edward. He… passed away."
"I'm so sorry."
"It was a long time ago," I said sadly, echoing his words from our first conversation.
We shared a meal of spicy seafood stew and crusty bread and opened a second bottle of wine before returning to the living room sofa. Jasper threw another log on the fire and settled next to me, draping his arm over my shoulder as he sipped his wine.
We were quiet, and I felt the air thicken and heat around us… not from the fire… but from the knowledge of what was to come. Jasper's fingers trailed lightly up and down my upper arm and I leaned into him… wanting more… fearing more. I turned my head to examine his profile, dimly lit in silhouette by the flickering firelight. He took another drink from his glass and my eyes were drawn to the sensual curve of his lips… the slow movement of his Adam's apple. As if he could feel my perusal of his features, his head turned slowly to meet my gaze.
His blue shirt all but eliminated the gray in his eyes – bringing to mind crashing waves rather than stormy skies. His eyes caressed my face… then dipped to my throat… my breasts… before returning to my face… the blue darkened to midnight.
"Isabella…" he whispered, shifting slightly until his lips hovered over mine. He didn't kiss me for a moment. I could just feel his warm breath tickling my tongue through my parted lips. Finally, his tongue traced over my mouth softly, eliciting an unconscious whimper from deep within me. Jasper pressed forward, his tongue slipping erotically into my mouth, scraping along my teeth.
I heard a faint clink and Jasper pulled back with a chuckle, reaching out to take my wine glass and setting them both down on the table. He stroked my hand, idly running his finger along each of mine… up over the tip, then down to the valley before again beginning the ascent. It was odd how a seemingly innocent gesture heated my blood. His gentle touch moved to my wrist, outlining the delicate bones as his brow creased in concentration. Of its own volition, my hand rotated, resting in my lap palm up, as his ministrations continued up my inner arm, focusing feathering swirls on the inside of my elbow.
I trembled.
Jasper's long fingers continued their torturous trail, outlining the faint indentation of my bicep before drifting across my shoulder and sliding along my collar bone. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the sensitive skin at the base of my throat as his hand slid the strap of my dress off my shoulder. His tongue flicked out, tasting my skin, and my head fell back as a low moan escaped my lips. His lips and tongue glided back and forth slowly, nibbling and tasting and sparking a hot flash of need that had me reaching for his head, tangling my fingers in his soft hair.
The room chilled suddenly as the flames in the fireplace shrank to mere embers. Jasper sat up, startled.
"What happened?" he asked, his voice husky and his eyes still hooded.
I smiled at him, lacing my fingers with his as I stood up, drawing him with me. "The fire went out," I explained quietly. "It will be warmer upstairs."
He nodded, raising his free hand to run the back of it down my throat, brushing lightly across the tops of my breasts. "Are you sure?" he asked.
No.
"Yes."
He followed me up the stairs, the heat from his body searing me even though we weren't touching. I felt his curiosity… palpable… as we walked down the long hallway toward my bedroom. Without turning around I knew he was examining the portraits lining the paneled wall.
He stopped to examine the painting of a young man in a pinstriped suit… his hair black as midnight… eyes ochre with streaks of umber.
I remembered him well – Demitri.
"This is really beautiful work," Jasper murmured. His eyes were drawn to the signature in the bottom right corner. "Isabella?" he read. "You painted this?" He turned a surprised and admiring gaze to me.
I nodded. "Yes… I paint a little."
Jasper chuckled. "A little? This is amazing." His eyes drifted down the row of portraits. "Did you paint all of these?"
I smiled. "I find painting portraits… relaxing." Redeeming.
He scrutinized another. Ah yes. Xavier. He'd come from California… hair bleached blonde by the sun… eyes a mixture of Cadmium Green and Viridian Blue.
The eyes must always be perfect. They are the windows to the soul, after all.
"All men?" Jasper lifted a questioning brow.
I shrugged, but made no comment.
What could I say, really?
I took his hand and pulled it lightly, walking backwards as I led him toward the bedroom… drawing his attention away from my art. The corner of his mouth lifted in a slight smirk as his eyes darkened once again. As we neared the door, I reached behind my back to open it, but he was on me in one long stride. He pressed my body against the dark wood… his own hardness flush against me from head to toe. His mouth descended insistently this time, his lips demanding… his tongue unrelenting. My arm was trapped behind my back, but I reached up with my other to grasp his back… feeling his muscles tense and relax as he devoured me. His palms were flat on the door by my head, his fingers scratching at the wood as he thrust slightly against me. The movement made me gasp.
"Jasper… I need…" I couldn't complete the sentence, but he seemed to understand. Jasper reached down and opened the door, circling my waist to hold me close to him as it swung open.
We stumbled into the room, a tangle of arms and legs… tongues twisting… fingers grasping… breaths escaping in harsh pants. Jasper pulled at the zipper along my back and my dress pooled around my feet. I ripped at his buttons, cursing as they fought me. Eventually, I was able to push the shirt from his shoulders, running my fingers down his chest, then along his rippled stomach and below the waistband of his jeans.
Jasper groaned, palming my breast through the sheer lace of my bra and gripping my ass with his other hand, slipping his fingers underneath the silky fabric. I pulled his belt loose, making quick work of the buttons on his jeans before sliding my hands under the heavy fabric. I was rewarded with the feel of the firm muscles of his ass, unhindered by boxers or briefs. I pulled him closer to me, wrapping a leg around his hip and writhing against his hardness as his jeans fell to his knees. Jasper growled, and we fell together on the bed, his legs trapped in denim. I pushed the offending garment off with my feet, grunting in annoyance when it got caught on his boots. Jasper laughed lightly, pulling away from me only long enough to rid himself of the boots and tug off his jeans and socks. I moved behind him as he sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping my arms and legs around his back and kissing his hot skin. His head tilted back, his eyes closed and a small smile of enjoyment lighting his beautiful features.
The air in the room – cool when we entered – began to heat, warming my skin and filling my lungs with heaviness. I wondered if Jasper could feel the shift in temperature, but he seemed focused entirely on me. He turned abruptly, reaching behind me to unhook my bra, drawing it away from my skin slowly before dropping it to the floor. He lay an open palm on the center of my chest, pressing me gently back on the bed, before his hands drifted lower to pull my damp panties down my legs.
"Beautiful," he murmured as his eyes took in my flushed skin, raking over me in a gentle caress. His fingers trailed up my legs as he dropped to a knee, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh.
"I can smell you," he whispered against my skin. "I can't resist…" His words trailed off as his tongue drifted upward, teasing my trembling flesh. His large hands held my legs apart as his mouth moved to my aching center. I gasped, jerking slightly at the sensation, but his hands held me still for a moment, before sliding down under my ass to press me closer to his talented tongue. He teased me… circling… flicking… nibbling… sucking gently… pushing me to the edge. My hands flew to his hair, unconsciously demanding more as I writhed against his mouth.
"Jasper…" I tugged at his hair, but he refused to stop, continuing the delicious torment of his tongue. He slid a finger inside of me… then another… thrusting slowly and deliberately as I whimpered uncontrollably. With a final draw at my swollen flesh, I came apart.
I felt his eyes on me as I rode out my climax, and as the final wave receded, my eyes fluttered open to meet his lustful gaze. He trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses up my body, never breaking eye contact. Abruptly, his eyes drifted to the floor and he moved away to reach for his jeans.
"Jasper?" I whispered, confused. He pulled out his wallet, removing a foil packet. My hand closed over his.
"It's all right," I murmured, pressing my lips to his neck. "We don't need that. It's taken care of."
"Are you sure?"
I nodded and he dropped the condom on the floor, crawling up my body to position himself at my entrance. I wrapped my legs around his waist, tilting my hips in invitation. He lowered his head to draw my nipple into his mouth as he pushed forward in one slow, powerful thrust.
I cried out at the sensation, and the room once again chilled around us, my breath escaping in frosty clouds. Jasper withdrew slowly before plunging into me, intent and focused. Our movements grew frenzied and heated… damp skin sliding against skin… electric sensations radiating from where our bodies joined. We were wrapped in a cocoon of warmth as condensation climbed the windows, freezing immediately in the frigid air.
Jasper rolled us over, and I found myself straddling him as he gripped my hips tightly, lifting and lowering me as he thrust up to meet me. I arched back, leaning on my hands and felt an icy stroke across my breasts.
"Not yet," I pleaded.
His voice whispered in my ear. "I'm sorry, my love. It must be now."
I choked on a sob, unable to control my physical reaction to Jasper's harsh thrusts. He sat up, holding me tightly as I clutched at his shoulders and rolled my hips in desperation.
"Bella," he grunted, his strokes growing frantic… unsteady. He looked up at me with eyes glazed with lust. "I love you," he murmured, pressing his lips to mine.
A blast of cold swept between us, caressing and squeezing my breasts. I arched back against the firm, cold chest I could feel pressed against my back.
"Bella?" Jasper's eyes were wide, but it was too late. "What's happening?"
I continued to grind against him, unable to stop. The icy hand on my breast drifted down between my legs, driving me up toward a spiraling climax. I felt Jasper throbbing within me. It was a matter of moments.
"I'm sorry," I whispered as my orgasm claimed me. Jasper's mouth dropped open as he gripped my hips, driving into me over and over again. His jaw clenched and his eyes shut tightly, he thrust once more, then shuddered… and I knew our time was up.
He opened his eyes as he poured his seed inside of me, but instead of looking at me his shocked gaze was over my shoulder.
"Edward?" he questioned, the name strange coming from his lips.
I watched as Jasper began to fade… the color leaching from his face as the cold body behind me gained warmth and substance.
"Bella?" Jasper's blue-gray eyes were confused as they locked on mine. His skin grew transparent… his flesh evaporating like wisps of smoke.
"I'm sorry," I whispered again through my tears. I reached out to him as he vanished… the last of his essence dissolving within me.
His troubled gaze hovered in the air accusingly for a moment, before it too disappeared.
Edward pressed me forward onto my hands and knees. "I'm sorry, my love. It's been so long. I can't wait any longer."
I simply nodded, sobbing, as he thrust into me from behind. His icy fingers no longer cold, but insistent… his body transformed from nothingness into flesh and bone.
We came together in a rush of heat and longing. I cried out as Edward filled me, plunging harshly as his lips caressed my back and his fingers grazed my swollen flesh. With a loud cry our bodies completed each other… and we collapsed onto the bed together, limbs tangled… hearts joined.
And broken.
x—x
Sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains at the window as I stood before the easel, the tip of my brush held gently between my teeth. I eyed the colors on my palette, searching for the perfect combination.
Cerulean… and steel gray.
I touched the brush to the canvas, adding a twinkle with Titanium White… some depth with Indigo. Standing back, I examined the portrait as I swirled my brush in a jar of paint thinner.
My studio door opened and Edward walked in, rumpled and yawning… dressed only in a pair of flannel pants. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair as he crossed the room to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder.
"You didn't sleep." It wasn't a question. I rarely did.
"I needed to finish this," I replied quietly. I felt his chin move slightly as he nodded, squeezing me gently.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"Yes." No.
He sighed, turning to run his nose along the side of my face. "You know if there was any other way—"
I cut him off. "There is no other way."
We'd tried. Years ago – with Demitri – we tried to take only enough for Edward to survive… only enough to keep him with me. But it left Demitri as an empty husk, unable to speak or eat… trapped inside his shell of a body.
If there was anything actually trapped in there at all. We really had no idea.
Demetri survived two days. We buried him in the back yard. And from then on we left nothing behind.
"I'm so sorry to put you through this," Edward murmured. "I just can't bear the thought of leaving you."
"And I can't bear the thought of losing you," I replied, leaning into his embrace.
It was our curse. To be together, but only at the sacrifice of others.
It had been… how long? More than ninety years since Edward contracted the Spanish Influenza. The doctors could do nothing, and I sat by his bed as he wasted away day after day.
When he died, I was devastated. I huddled in our bed, unable to eat or sleep… unable to comprehend a life without him.
It was a short time later that I realized he hadn't left.
At first, it was just a feeling… a tingling at the edge of my consciousness… the hair raising on the back of my neck as if I were being watched. Then, one night as I sat in our room gazing unseeingly into the fire, the temperature dropped sharply. I felt icy fingers trailing down my spine and heard his sweet voice murmuring in my ear.
Instead of fear, I was filled with frenzied hope… and I sought out any way to keep him with me… to bring him back. Reading books on dark arts… consulting mediums... I was determined I would do whatever it took for us to be together again.
It was a fluke that we found a way… an unhappy coincidence… a cursed blessing.
A young man ventured up our driveway, saying he was lost and needed directions. I let him in and served him tea, reaching over the low table to hand him a cup. His eyes had dipped to my breasts and darkened with lust, but before I could comment, I was shocked to see Edward appear behind him. It was just for a moment – but he was as clear and solid as he'd ever been.
Over time, we realized that Edward could draw power from lust… and eventually learned that when lust combined with love that power was even more potent. Edward could absorb the essence of an individual… drain his life force as it hung suspended in that ultimate moment of release. Somehow through the process a bit of that essence was transferred to me.
I hadn't aged a day since the first time we took someone… Andrew. He was Sienna and Gold.
It was only temporary, however… a few years and Edward would begin to fade, growing weaker until he simply vanished before my eyes. So I was forced to find another man… take another lover… sacrifice another life.
Time and time again we would swear it was the last time… that we couldn't continue to do what we were doing. But when Edward would disappear, leaving behind only chilly rooms and whispered words, I would break.
I couldn't be without him.
We gave up trying to justify it… and trying to deny it. It was our way… the only way.
"It's your best yet," Edward said quietly, scrutinizing the painting I'd been working on. He was right. It was a near-perfect representation… from the blonde tousled curls to the devilish half-smile… to the sparkling eyes… cerulean and steel. I leaned forward to sign my name in the bottom corner with a flourish.
Edward kissed my cheek softly, then released his hold on me to take my hand. "We'll hang it when it's dry," he said quietly. "Let me make you some breakfast."
I let him pull me from the room, casting one last glance at the portrait. I sighed heavily, but didn't cry. My tears were in every stroke of paint… on every inch of the canvas.
We walked into the hallway and my eyes were drawn to the empty spot at the end of the row of paintings… the place where Jasper's portrait would hang.
I forced myself to examine each painting as we made our way down the hall… to look into each pair of eyes as they stared back at me in judgment… in betrayal… or, I hoped, in understanding.
It was my burden.
It was my penance.