AN/ Hi all! This little fic was brought on Fandom Gives Back, by kerrfrano, who has been so kind and let me share it with you.

A massive thank you to my girls, dtav and Ealasaid77 for being fucking awesome and sorting out my chapters. Would be so lost without my girls.

Prompts even were:

Fight

betrayal (thought one was cheating)

Reconciliation

I hope you enjoy!


JPOV

This was the fourth time on the bounce he had done this. The first time, he called to let me know he couldn't make it. The second time, I got a text. The third and fourth times, I got nothing. I couldn't work out if I was more hurt than angry.

I understood, of course I understood. He had these big heavy work meetings and conferences to do; talking to people all over the world, at different hours. It was important, well important to him anyway. To me? I couldn't give a rat's ass about the fucking meetings or the conferences, or just why he had to be awake at ex time because some country somewhere would be online.

People often asked me what he did for a living, my reply was always the same... I didn't have one. Sure, I knew the basics. Some big company that deals with the stock market, he got paid a shit load of money each month and was provided with a company car each year, but after that? I kind of zoned out.

Before you start thinking I am just a self centered bastard, let me make one thing clear. He gives about as much thought into my career as I do his. He finds my work boring, or too personal, or too this or too that, just like I do with his. It was pretty much open and shut between the two of us.

Six months ago, he got this big promotion at work. Whoopee! It meant he earned more, it also meant he worked more, and therefore spent more time away from home. Nice, just what our relationship wanted, more time apart.

It hadn't always been this way. At first, it was perfect. My heart fluttered whenever he looked at me a certain way, or a lazy smile was cast my way when he thought no one was looking. We were in love, madly, passionately in love with one another. I couldn't get enough of him. My days were once spent thinking of just what I was going to do to him when I got home. What surface I was going to fuck him over, or what position I wanted him to take me in.

Not anymore.

The last time we had sex was... I racked my brain trying to remember; surely it hadn't been that long? Had it?

Tonight was meant to change that. Tonight was meant to be our night; our chance to reconnect to one another. But where was he? He certainly wasn't with me; he wasn't answering his phone either, so your guess on where he was was as good as mine.

The tears sprang in my eyes as I sat there staring at the table. Today was our eighth year together. Eight long years I had spent loving that man, but much like the candle that burned slowly on the table, getting closer to burning out, so was my love.

The meal I had cooked now sat cold and untouched, the expensive bottle of wine was opened and half drunk by myself and the dusky lighting that had been here when I sat down had now turned to dark. And yet he wasn't home.

I didn't known if I wanted to laugh or cry as my heart broke more and more with each passing second. Laughing seemed like the easiest thing to do. I could mask my feelings and laugh it off, pretend it was no big deal, but it was; it was a huge fucking deal to me. Birthdays, anniversaries, and Christmas. These were the times when I wanted us to be together, these were big deals to me, any other time in the year I wouldn't be so upset. But to see the mark of our eighth year together and he isn't even bothered to turn up tears my heart apart.

He hadn't even mentioned it this morning when he woke. No happy anniversary, no it's been the best eight years of my life, not even a fuck you, asshole. Just a kiss on the cheek and wave goodbye.

At first I told myself that he hadn't forgotten, that he was up to something. Of course I was fooling myself, but I needed something to make me smile throughout my day or I would have cried. Edward really had forgotten. Was our relationship so unimportant to him now? Was it that bad that the days just blurred into one, that he didn't even realise what day of the week he was on? I was sure if I quizzed him about it later, he would say he was sorry and that he forgot... Bullshit!

Edward's little boxed gift sat on the table. Looking at it set a raging fire inside of me. I hated that fucking little box, I hated the fucking gift wrapping it was in, and I even hated how long it had taken me to pick the fucking thing. Even worse, I hated what was inside of it.

I was foolish, stupid to think that he would accept my gift, but I was tired of waiting and tired of talking and not doing anything. I wanted us to get married, I wanted us to share our love together on one special day and join together. Edward had claimed he wasn't ready, or we didn't need to, or what really was the point as nothing would change. He really didn't see it the way I did. It was a big thing to me, it was important to me. Yeah, you could say I was a little old fashioned when it came to getting married, but this was what I wanted us to do.

And of course we hadn't done it.

My plan was to ask him. I was sure that when he saw the ring I had picked out, when I got down on one knee and asked him, he would say yes. That he wouldn't turn me down. Now with him not even bothering to turn up, I was pretty sure he would have said no.

There was no way I could deny it any longer, ignore the signs that were so clearly written for all to see. Edward was cheating.

When it was first mentioned to me, I laughed. This was Edward! He would never do things like that, he frowned upon it. Edward would barely show any displays of affection when out, because he believed it was a private matter and one you did behind closed doors. Edward and cheating was about as likely as the sky turning fucking purple.

Looks like I was wrong. I didn't want to believe it, but yet the signs were there. The no phone calls, the late, after hour meetings, the forgotten anniversaries, the lack of sex, and him not wanting to, or pussy footing around us getting married pointed to one thing. There was someone else.

Feeling the big, thick, hot salty tears spill over my eye lids and roll slowly down my cheeks, my eyes narrowed. The unmistakable sound of his car was pulling onto the drive. He was late, not just a little late either, but five fucking hours late. The jingle of his keys in the door, the heavy sigh of tiredness he released as he closed the door, the sound of his footsteps on the slate tiled floor made my blood boil.

"Where the fuck have you been?" I demanded through gritted teeth. Edward looked confused, and a little shocked as he looked around the room.

"Jay? Why are candles lit?" Snorting in disbelief, I swiped my arm across the table, sending its contents flying.

"Did you really fucking forget?" I seethed at him as I stood. My whole body began to shake as my rage took over. I wanted to hit him, to punch his fucking face and make him feel the pain I was suffering right now.

"Forget what? Jasper, why the fuck did you just do that?" he demanded pointing to the broken glasses and plates that now covered the dining room floor. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"This!" I screamed. Storming past him, I walked into the living room and to the fireplace. A whole host of photos covered it showing us, our relationship, so perfect, so happy, so in love. So finished.

"Jasper?" Edward enquired, undoing his tie. "I'm tired, I've had a long day. Can we save your drama antics for another day? Please?"

"Drama antics? I want to know who the fuck he is, and how fucking long has it been going on for?" My voice shook slightly at the reality of my question. Everything was about to come crashing down and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

"What? Who is who?" His face screwed up in confusion as he asked his question. Bitterly, I laughed at him.

"This is our first fucking year together." Picking up the glass and silver photo frame, I smashed it on the solid wood floor. "Our second year." Another one smashed on the floor. "Our third, fourth, fifth, six and seventh year together." They all joined the pile on the floor.

"Do you have any fucking idea what today is? Any idea at all?" Edward's eyes flickered down to the smashed photo frames and back up to me. "Do you?"

"No," he mumbled at me. "I think you need help, Jasper. Smashing the house up for no reason? Just what am I supposed to have done?"

"You're cheating, fucking some office twink. Don't fucking deny it, either." Edward looked hurt, shocked and in disbelief all at once.

"How could you think that? How?" his voice strained at me.

"You don't want me anymore, you're never home, you don't call and let me know. Fuck, you don't even answer my calls now. We haven't had sex in God knows how long, and today you just didn't fucking care." By now my tears were pouring out of me. My pain, my love for him, the betrayal I felt, was all coming out.

"Eight years, Edward. Eight fucking years today!" Realisation dawned on his face.

"Jasper... I'm sorry." He took a step towards me, but I threw the last remaining pictures on the floor, shattering them just by his feet.

"Don't! Don't ever come near me again. It's over, we're over. Don't call, don't come to see me, just stay away. I'll have my things removed when you're at work, that way you won't need to stay at the office to fuck him; you can fuck him in our bed." Walking out of the living room and into the hallway, I pulled my boots on, grabbed my phone from the side table and turned to see him standing there in shock.

"Did you? Did you fuck him in our bed?" I sobbed out. The pain in my chest was almost unbearable. He was my life, my world. He was everything that was good in my life, everything I worked hard for, everything I loved, he was it.

"Jasper..." He shook his head at me.

"You can't even deny it, can you?" I choked. "You can't tell me it's not true because it is... Don't tell me, I can't handle knowing you were in our bed." Clicking the latch on the door, I opened it to see the dark, cold, wet rainy night.

"Jasper plea-" his words were cut off by me slamming the front door shut.

The rain hit my face, hard. By the time I hit the end of our road, I was soaking wet through and through. In my haste to get away from Edward, I didn't grab a coat; now my shirt was sticking to me like a new layer of skin.

I didn't care.

My heart now lay in pieces, just trying to breath is killing me. Why should I care that I am soaked to the bone? Why should I care that it's freezing out here and I might get hypothermia? He was my life; my world; my everything. If he didn't care about me, why should I care about myself? It's a stupid, foolish way to think, but it was the truth.

From the moment I saw him, locked eyes on him, I knew he was it. The one was made just for me. There was no sudden bolt of lightning, no magical tingles when we touched. There was warmth in our touches, a knowing of skins, almost like our brains were already programmed to one another's bodies. It was new, yet so familiar all rolled into one. There was no one that made me feel like I could do anything, the way he could. He made me complete, yet, as it seems, I never made him feel that way.

The rain continued to thrash down, harder and heavier. The wind whipped around my cold body, numbing me even more. I welcomed it; welcomed the feelings it brought me, and the numbness that swept through my body, covering, masking the pain I was in. My body began to shiver in some desperate attempt to warm up. I didn't want to warm up. Warming up meant feeling things, things I didn't want to feel; not now, not yet, not ever.

Unsure of where I was walking, I kept going. My head was down, my curls now straight, wet and limp. My jeans were soaked, my shirt was soaked, and my body was trying to keep warm. Why wasn't it welcoming the numbness like I was? Why was my body betraying me the way he had?

I screamed in frustration; crying out into the dark night. My head was full of questions, my body was aching from shivering, my hands were numb and becoming hard to move. The pain that ripped through me, through my heart, was worse than any pain I had ever imagined, like a knife that was continually stabbing into my heart with every breath I took.

Love. I had been in love before, or what I thought was love. My heart had been broken back then, but this? This was far, far worse than that pain. This was real love, this was finding the other half of me love, and this was the pain I faced when my heart shattered. I always thought love was beautiful, perfect even. Not perfect to a point where it ran flawlessly, because that just wouldn't be real. But perfect to where no matter what happened we were there for each other, we pulled each other through and loved each other unconditionally. That, to me, was perfect.

Time slipped away, and I wasn't sure how long I had been walking, or how far I had walked when I stopped and sat on the curb. Fishing my phone out of my wet pocket, I caught one of the keys lighting up the screen. The picture tore me inside even more, and a heart wrenching sob ripped through me.

It had been taken about six months ago, just before he got this new position. We were on holiday, both tanned, looking happy and in love. The red shine on our noses and cheek bones was from spending our final day in the sun. The ends of my hair had lightened, the sun bleaching it and making it almost white on the ends. His eyes held so much love in them, so rich, so full, so deep. Why didn't I see that look in his eyes now? Why didn't he look at me like I was the center of his world?

Clicking into the menu, I scrolled to my list of contacts. I wanted to go home, I wanted those arms that had been home for the last eight years to wrap themselves around me and make me feel safe, warm and loved. Home was now out of the question, his arms wouldn't be my home again.

Somehow, I managed to call my parents and tell them where I was. The call had been to my mother, with her pleading with me to tell her what had happened. I didn't, I couldn't. How do I tell my parents the man I almost asked to marry me tonight is actually having an affair? How do I tell them that the last eight fucking years of my life have been for nothing, that I was a fool, that I loved him and he didn't feel the same way? Her pleading could continue for now. Until I had my head straight, I couldn't talk about this to anyone.

My way of dealing with it is to shut everyone out.

The sound of an engine broke through my thoughts. Lifting my head up, I saw the headlights of my father's car approach me through the wet curls that hung over my face. My bottom lip was trembling from the cold and the rain, as my father got out and helped me to my feet.

"Jasper, what on earth has happened?" he asked in a frantic, concerned voice. I shook my head and got into the warm car.

My body went into over drive, shivering uncontrollably now that I was in some warmth. Wrapping my arms around my chest, I hugged myself tightly. Trying to warm up or stop myself from shattering, I wasn't sure which it was.

"Your lips are blue!" he screamed as he cranked the heat up in the car. They could be blue for all I cared, it wasn't as though I was about to kiss the man I loved, now was I?

"I...I'm...fine," I trembled out.

"How long have you been out in this?" I shrugged. I knew I left our home about ten-ish. Looking at the clock on the dashboard, I would have gasped if I wasn't already whimpering in pain.

"Si.. nce... tt... enn." He didn't reply. A shake of the head was all that was given as he flooded it down the road.

My dad understood me better than my mum did. While they both loved me, my dad knew my moods better, he knew when I wanted to be left alone, when I wanted to talk and when I was happy just being there not speaking and not being spoken to. My mum? She never understood this. While she would be frantic with panic when she saw the state of me, she would also go into over hugging, over feeding and over every mode.

During the drive back to my parents, I heard my dad call my mum. Words and sentences escaped me, only a few filtering through. Things like 'blue, shaking, pale,' went in as the status update of my condition. Why were they even bothered? I wasn't. This could kill me for all I cared right now, death would happily be welcomed.

Yes, that was selfish to think and yes, I didn't truly mean it, but at this point in time, I really didn't care. The car came to an abrupt stop. The engine was still running when dad opened the passenger door and pulled me out. The backdoor was open; my mother standing there with towels and blankets at the ready.

Her face was something I couldn't look at. Her sobs, her concerned frantic tone was enough to make me look at the floor and not at her face.

Towels were wrapped around me, drying me before my mum started yanking my wet clothes off. If I cared right now, I would have stopped her, but I didn't. I stood there, in the kitchen, with towels wrapped around me while my mum removed my wet clothing. All the time I just stared at the floor, completely dead inside. The light that was there, my light, my air had been removed, killing me off inside. All that remained was just a shell, a form, a body, and an empty cave with nothing inside.

Stripped down to just my boxers, which were wet, my dad dragged me upstairs and thrust dry clothes my way. I didn't grab them. His hand held them out, but I didn't have the will to even take them off him, let alone change.

"Jasper, please, you need to put some dry clothes on," he pleaded with me. Still I didn't move. Standing still, just staring at the floor, I refused to move, to speak, to function. "Jasper, Jasper look at me," his voice floated around my head, yet I didn't move.

A warm hand went under my chin, lifting my face up to look at him. Red, blood stained eyes looked back at me. Worry and concern raced through them. His eyes pleading with me to move, to do something, anything, yet I couldn't.

"What happened, son?" he asked, wrapping his arms around me and frantically rubbing my back to warm my trembling body.

Five minutes could have passed, maybe more, maybe less, before he moved. Realising I wasn't going to do anything, he began to dress me. I guess I should have been embarrassed, my dad removing the last remains of my wet clothes, leaving me naked underneath the towels and blankets, but I just didn't care.

No sooner was my dad removing my wet boxers, and then I was in dry, warm clothes and moved back down stairs. More blankets replaced the ones that were used when I got here. A hot mug of something was given to me as my dad sat me on the sofa. All the while I just stared, looking at the floor, blinking now and then and trembling.

The shakes had stopped, but the trembles still remained. My mum was rubbing my wet hair with a towel, drying it off. Any other time this would have pissed me off, even more so when her hairdryer was used to dry it fully; but I didn't care. My hair would dry and go all frizzy and nasty, looking remotely like a bad eighties perm, but there wasn't anyone to impress now. My man, the one I wanted, didn't want me.

The hot liquid I was given, that seemed like tea, I drank. My face screwed up with every mouthful I took. It was too sweet, too strong and had far too much milk in it, but I didn't protest. The stern look from my mother told me not to argue. I didn't mind tea, I just tended to drink coffee over it. Not many people could make my tea, so I just stopped asking for it.

Wrapped in blankets with the heating cranked up to full, and mug after mug of over sweet tea, I began to sweat. The shivers had stopped, the trembles had stopped and my body began to feel warm again. All of this was good, for my body; but not for me. Feeling things meant I felt my pain even more than before. At least when I was cold to the bone, and shivering uncontrollably, it was another sort of pain, a more bearable pain when compared to the one that was raising its ugly head.

"Jasper, honey... What happened?" My eyes closed, and I released a breath hard through my nose.

"He forgot. Guess there are more important things and better fucks out there," I mumbled out.

"Jasper, maybe th-" her words were cut short.

"I don't want to talk about it. Please respect my wishes and leave it alone." She sighed, her eyes burning holes through me. "Please," I whispered, just wishing she would drop it and let it be done with.

I could see her out the corner of my eye, slightly leaning forward, her hands clasped in her lap, biting her bottom lip. The workings of her mind were already floating around the room. She wanted me to talk, to tell her what had happened and she wasn't about to let it drop until she had answers; answers I didn't want to give.

"I'm going to bed." Throwing off the blankets that had cocooned me and made me warm, I rose from the sofa without another word and slowly walked towards the staircase.

Pushing open my old bedroom door, I stepped inside and flicked on the light switch. It still looked the same as it did when I left. Granted, since I left, the room had become filled with things from my parents, but the walls were still the same color, and the bed was still in the same place. Books, CD's, things I left behind and never got round to picking up were still here; even the furniture was still here.

I went far in eight years. I thought dryly to myself.

My phone sat on the bedside table, the little red light in the corner of the Blackberry flashed at me. With shaking hands I picked up my phone. I didn't want this message to be from him, I didn't want him to call me, text me, email me or even tweet me on twitter. When I walked out, I made it clear that we were done, it was over. For me, that meant no calling or using any other means of communication.

Silently praying it wasn't him, I opened the text up and let out a sigh of relief to find it was some update from my network provider. Though I had prayed it wasn't him, it angered me to see it wasn't him.

Surely he should have called, or texted me? After what happened, the wrong he had made, surely it made sense for him to contact me? Where was the text from him begging for my forgiveness? Where were his words of love, claiming it was all untrue and everything had been blown out of hand? Where was the fucking text telling me to go to hell? Our eight years really did mean fuck all to him.

Crawling into my old bed, I willed myself not to cry and fall apart as my mind was hit with memories. The first time we ever slept together had been in this bed. I should have known back then, I should have stayed away like I was told, but no, not me. The fool that I am believed that things were different between me and him, that they weren't like the rest. Yeah right, it just took eight fucking years for the past to come back.

Maybe it had always been this way and he was just better at hiding it? Or maybe he just grew bored?

All my friends knew about him before I did. Edward Cullen was nothing but a whore, and that was the be all and end all of it. Edward had made a name for himself; he fucked his way through half the gay population in the town. His number of sexual partners out weighed mine by miles. I was no virgin when we met, I had a fair number of boyfriends and one night stands, but compared to him, I may as well have been.

It was him that pursued me. We became friendly at the gym, a nod, a smile, a bit of a chat here and there, but that was it. Unfortunately, Edward's rep had gotten back to me pretty quick. I wasn't really into trying to hook up for the sake of it, and it seemed that was what he wanted. The feeling I got, the heart flutters I felt over a certain smile, weren't enough for me to drop my morals. So he chased me.

For weeks he tried to get me to go out on a date with him, until I finally caved and agreed. The date went pretty much how I thought it would go, dinner, drinks, back to his, and that's where it stopped. He slammed the breaks on us fucking, which shocked me. Edward confessed that he really did like me for more than just a fuck, and wanted to get to know me better. Two weeks later we were in this bed, fucking.

Somewhere over the last eight years, Edward Cullen, the whore, became my Edward. And these two, were two different people, completely. The Edward Cullen from back then dumped you before hand, that Edward Cullen didn't do cheating, fucking a long list of men, but never cheating. He had the decency to end it with you before he found someone else. My Edward had lost that moral along the way.

Unable to stop them, the tears came as the realisation that my friends were right. At the start they said it would never last, that Edward Cullen didn't do long term relationships. He did a few weeks, a month tops before he grew bored and went looking for next lay. They were right, and I was wrong; it had just taken eight years to get there and not eight weeks.

Sleep soon followed, a restless sleep at best. Dreams and nightmares twisting and turning into one, as my heart continued to smash any remaining pieces that weren't turned to dust from the first impact. Morning soon arrived, and for the first, very few seconds of being awake, I thought last night was just a bad dream, that I was lying in our bed with him next to me. Opening my eyes, the harshness of everything hit me again.

The pain ripped through me knowing that I wasn't at home, I wasn't in our bed, and he wasn't next to me. The emptiness that covered me, tightened. Gripping my sides, I hugged myself tightly, hoping that it would impact the pain I was feeling and soften it just a little; it didn't.

The tapping on the door followed by, "Are you awake, sweetheart?" made me groan. Taking it as a sign that I was, the door opened and in walked my mother.

Of course, she would have been awake for the last hour or more; waiting. It wasn't that I didn't love my mum, I did, and I just couldn't handle the 'let's talk about it now' attitude she had. She walked across the room with a coffee in her hand. Placing it on the side of the bedside table, she smiled slight and sat down.

"It's coffee, just how you like it." I smiled at her.

"Thanks, you're not trying to poison me this time then?" I joked whilst sitting up in bed.

"You were in shock. Jasper, what happened? Tell me, please." Closing my eyes, I rested the back of my head against the headboard. "Jasper, I thought we were going to have to take you to the hospital. You just shut down, completely, and the state your father picked you up in..."

"I know, I'm sorry if I scared you... it's just that, he's my world, mum. I don't know how to live without him." The sting of tears formed in my eyes and I had to blink them away.

"Lover's tiff?" Her comment made me laugh. If only it was something like a lover's tiff.

"Mum, I don't want to talk about it, not right now anyway." My voice came out a little raspy and harsh.

Not only was I not ready to talk, I wasn't sure just how long I could hold it all together before I shut down again. Out the corner of my eye, I could see her concerned face as she looked at me. I knew I was hurting her by not telling her, but I just couldn't form the words yet to tell her. How could I even begin to explain all of this, when I couldn't wrap my own head around it? When I had believed everything he said when we first got together. When everyone was right and I was wrong.

"Has he called?" I shook my head, feeling the pain begin to ripple in my chest. Of course he hasn't called. He has his new fuck buddy now, he doesn't need me anymore. "Are you calling him?" The urge to roll my eyes was there, but I managed to stop before I actually did it. She was only asking, only being concerned.

"I'm not going to either," I rasped out as I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them.

"Jasper, you both need to just talk to each other." Again, I shook my head.

She sat there with me not saying anymore, just waiting. Waiting for me to crack and say something. She would have a long wait, I had been her son long enough for her to know that I kept things inside, and dealt with them that way, not the way of telling everyone my problems. Her hand came across me, giving me the mug of coffee. Taking it, I offered a small, weak smile, wishing beyond anything that my pain would end.

"What about work?" her words cut through the silence of the room.

"What about it?" She tutted and looked at me. "I'm not in the mood."

The silence fell again between us. She didn't want to leave me, and I wanted her to go. As I said, I love my mum, but she just doesn't get me all the time.

I began to wonder about him, what had happened to us, to him, for this to have happened. His words, I believed. He told me he never really did long term relationships because he was looking, or more so waiting, for his one to arrive. And until that day came, he was going to have as much fun as possible. This answered for the long list of men and the reputation of a whore. Never once did he say I was his one; never once did he say I made him complete. How I wished he had.

During our time together, over the years, I believed I was his one; the one he had been waiting for. Anyone else would have assumed the same thing. Suddenly he wasn't dumping me after getting me in bed, but continuing to take me out, to ask me questions and get to know me. That lead me to believe I was his one, but now I see I wasn't.

Maybe he had decided that he had to try this relationship thing, get it right so he wouldn't fuck up with his one. Looks like I was the trial run, I thought bitterly to myself.

We were almost a year into our relationship before he told me he loved me. Even then, it came out weak. So weak, no feeling behind it, no emotion; just three words I wanted to hear. And you know what? It didn't fucking bother me. I was/am, so madly in love with him, that how he said it the first time, or the times after that, didn't matter.

"Come here." My mum's arms wrapped around me, pulling me to her chest and holding me close. I didn't realise I was crying and whimpering until she began to rock me with soothing words.

The days passed by and he didn't call. No texts, no emails, no nothing. It hurt to know he didn't care, to know he wasn't thinking about me, to know our eight years meant nothing.

My pain was showing. With every passing day that went by, I slowly sunk deeper and deeper into myself. Tears weren't shed now, I had cried; shed all the tears I would ever shed over him. But the pain was still there, intensifying with every passing day. My pain was visible to the outside world, I didn't try to hide it, and I saw no reason for it. My body was lifeless, my brain was dead. I couldn't think, I couldn't write, I couldn't do anything other than just think of him.

My hatred for him grew. Maybe it was more because I knew he wasn't suffering. He wasn't in pain, he wasn't trying to rebuild his shattered heart the way I was. No, he was fucking some twink and laughing at me.

So, so badly, I wanted him to call me. To tell me that everything was just one big massive misunderstanding. That I was on his mind, that he missed me; he needed me, that he loved me. I was hoping for something that would never come. He wouldn't call, if he was going to, he would have done it by now.

Everything was still at his place. My laptop, my work, my things were all there. My dad had said he would go round and get what I needed, but I wouldn't let him go. He only wanted to go and talk to Edward, to see if he could get the answers from him he couldn't get from me. With a twisted thought, I almost wanted him to go and see if he caught Edward fucking that twink; he would get all the answers he needed that way. But that was wrong of me to want that. Hell, even I didn't want to see that! Not to mention that I didn't want the confirmation that he was fucking him in our bed.

Catatonic. This little word had been mentioned around me more than once since I arrived at my parent's. They were worried I was in some sort of frozen state. I wasn't in some frozen state, I wasn't catatonic either, but I just failed to show anything other nothing. My depression, my mood, which was clear to be seen, was just lifeless. Right now, I saw no point in trying; trying to smile, to laugh or anything else. It was like the life in me had gone. No, it wasn't like, it had gone. End of.

Edward had been so important to me for so long, that now I couldn't function without him in my life. I wasn't about to jump of the nearest cliff in a vain attempt to get him to notice me, nor was I going to slit my wrists and cry out for help. While I was broken inside, I would heal... One day. Well, at least I hoped I would.

They could worry about my non-moving state, it was better than destroying everything in my path; which was my second choice. I was sure they would soon freak out and demand I get myself looked at if I let my anger explode how I wanted it to.

To please them, or to at least get them off my back, I agreed to go out. This wasn't the greatest plan in the world. To be honest, going out wasn't what I wanted. I was in no mood to be social, or have a laugh with my friends; I just wanted to be by myself. Yes, it was morbid and yes it was pretty fucking depressing, but it's what I wanted; to sit with my own thoughts and pine over him.

To them, they thought I was going out with friends, I lied. Every friend I now had was his too. That's the trouble with long lasting relationships, your friends become his friends, and his friends suddenly become your friends. I hadn't told any of them about what had happened between us, whether Edward had or not, I didn't know. Not that I cared much anyway.

Did they know he was fucking someone behind my back? It was something I had never thought about before. Did they know? Had he confided in one of them? Maybe they had even covered his ass so I wouldn't find out. Though I knew I shouldn't think of my friends like that, I just couldn't help it. You hear this sort of thing. There is always a friend who knew, who found out and who kept it from the other person. Would my friends do that to me?

Arriving at the local pub I was, for once, happy that this place was empty. The locals were in, you know the old men that never seem to be anywhere else other than the pub? Grabbing a pint, I sat my sorry ass down in the corner, content with getting wasted by myself.

"I thought I would find you here." The words cut through my internal thoughts. Looking up, I saw Peter standing there.

"What do you want, Pete?" I didn't mean to sound as though I didn't care, but I couldn't help it.

"Well, a little birdie tells me that shit has gone down in your love life." He smirked like the cocky fucker he was. "Drink?"

"Why the fuck not, we're in a pub after all." Peter walked off towards the bar, while I downed the rest of my pint. Peter walked back to the table and placed a bottle of brandy and two glasses down. "You brought the bottle?"

"Hell, yeah, I did. Look if we are going to get wasted and talk about your love life, then we are going to do it right. Now, are you going to willingly tell me, or do I have to beat it out of you?" Peter unscrewed the bottle lid and poured out two large shots.

"Pete, you know you couldn't kick my ass if you tried. Didn't we try this once before?" I smirked out. "I really don't want to talk about it, Pete, but you can tell me how you know."

"I'll tell you after you tell me." Trust Peter to not want to give anything away until he got what he wanted. Did he not realise that this was my love life? My world? Not some fucking game?

Sighing, I caved. I told him about the times Edward had canceled our plans, how it went from a phone call to nothing. How I had planned to ask Edward to marry me, how he didn't come home on time, and how he forgot the date. The fight we had, the smashed photo frames, and how I walked out. I even confessed my feelings about his past and what I thought we had actually meant to him. By the time I had finished telling him everything, I was desperately trying to hold myself together.

The fresh wave of tears, that I was sure I had already shed, were forming in my eyes. My heart ached; my body yearned for his touch. So badly, I wanted him to wrap me up in his arms and sooth away my pain, yet I wanted something that wouldn't happen.

Knocking back another shot of brandy, I looked at Peter and said, "So, now you know. You were right all along, happy now?" Peter did not look impressed over my last comment. His eyes burned with anger as he slammed the shot glass down on the table.

"Listen fucker, what I thought eight fucking years ago, is not what I think now!" He poured another shot and looked at me, "Get your fucking head out your arse. Did I honestly think eight years ago that Edward Cullen would do a serious relationship? Did I? Fuck, no! But low and fucking behold, you show up and bam things change. Edward loves you; I have seen him turn his life around for you. Watched on the sidelines when he didn't know I was there in the club, reject any advances he had. He is solely about you, and you alone.

"You wouldn't believe what I have seen involving him, both good and fucking bad, but since you came along and walked into his life, the Edward Cullen of the past has fucking died." Slamming his shot glass down, he looked at me.

My head was down while I sulked. Peter's words had stung; I didn't want to be shouted at when I was in so much pain already. All I wanted was a shoulder to cry on so to speak, but Peter seemed unwilling to give me that. Deep down, I knew our friends would pick sides, yet I thought or assumed that the friends that had been mine at the beginning would side with me now.

"Stop fucking sulking. Jesus! That bottom lip comes out any more I going to pull it off." Peter's angry tone hadn't faltered.

"Fuck off. You're on his side, I fucking get it," I snapped back.

"Side? I'm not on anyone's side dumb ass. You wanna know why he hasn't called?" Peter asked me, so I nodded. "Well, call him and fucking ask. He'll tell, he'll answer every fucking question you have." Peter picked up his jacket and stood up. "By the way, you're very wrong if you think that you're the only one that is suffering right now."

Sitting there, a little shocked, I watched Peter walk out of the bar. So badly, I wanted to be mad at Peter, to be fucking livid with him for how he acted, but in all fairness I couldn't find it in me. Peter was Peter, you said something to piss him off, and he let you know about it. He believed in tough love. Hand you your arse and then expect you to pull your head out of it and sort it out. In other words, Peter was not the friend you wanted around you when you felt like shit. Peter was great for those sorts of times when you need someone to kick your arse, not when you want comfort and sympathy.

Pouring another shot, I knocked it back. As the warm liquor burned its way down, my head began to feel a little fuzzy. Suddenly getting wasted wasn't what I wanted to do. Taking my phone out my pocket, I placed it on the table and looked at it. Why? Maybe I thought if I looked at it long enough it would suddenly burst into life and start ringing.

'You're wrong if you think you're the only one suffering.'

'Edward loves you.'

'That Edward died when you came into his life.'

Peter's words ran around in my head, on a loop, constantly going around and around. Was Peter right in what he had said? Was Edward suffering like me? Did he really love me? If he did then why hasn't he called? It's been days, nine of them in total, and he hasn't called me. I didn't see why I should be the one to call; he was the one that had done this to us, not me. Why should I go calling?

Before I could continue my internal battle of thoughts, my phone was in my hand and I was standing outside. The November air was harsh, cutting through me like a knife. I wish I had more than a sweater to keep me warm, though all my coats were at Edward's. Better still, I wished I had his arms wrapped around me, pulling me to his chest and keeping me warm.

Dialing the house phone, my heart began to beat faster and faster waiting for him to pick up.

"Hello," his voice croaked out down the line.

Sucking in a deep breath to calm my nerves, I replied, "It's me."

"Jasper?'" he sounded surprised to hear from me. His surprised tone angered me more than it should have.

"No, it's the fucking twink you're fucking!" I spat down the phone. "This was a bad idea, forget I even fucking called."

"Wait... Please," he pleaded down the phone with a slight sniffle. "Please, can we talk?" What I wanted to say was, no, we fucking can't because you're fucking a twink and our eight years together meant fucking shit to you. But what came out was completely different.

"I'm on my way round." Something in his voice, or the sniffle clicked with my subconscious, and despite my better judgment, I was clicking the phone off and hailing a taxi down.

I guess I wasn't really thinking when I got in the taxi. If I had been, I doubt I would be here right now.

Standing at the end of the driveway, I looked at his house. Well, our house; we had both bought it together. It seemed surreal to be outside of the house I left nine days ago. Out the corner of my eye, I saw the curtain twitch. He knows I am here, then, I thought as I began to walk up the drive. The door swung open and I stopped in my tracks at the sight in front of me. What I had thought I would see wasn't what was there in front of me.

Edward looked pained, really pained. He looked tired, dark circles ran underneath his eyes that were rimmed red. He was unshaven, which surprised me. Edward always shaved; it was a daily routine for him, like taking a shit. He chewed his bottom lip, hesitant to come out and hug me. I saw his body go to move towards me, almost like he hadn't asked his body to move, but it did anyway. He gripped the door frame, stopping himself from coming to me; he wasn't sure how I would react.

A ripple ran throughout me seeing him like that. Wanting, no needing to be near him, I almost ran up the driveway. Before I could blink, Edward was there in front of me. For a moment, we just stood there, staring at each other. Arms and fingers twitched towards one another, still unsure how the other would react.

"Babe," his voice came out in a whisper as his arms wrapped around me, tightly.

My own arms found themselves around his waist, pulling him closer to me. His heart was beating wildly against my chest, matching the frantic rhythm of mine. Burying my face into his neck, I breathed in his sweet scent. It was like coming home. His body, pressed tightly to mine, began to relax the tension and stress that had been locked away inside of me. Breathing in his scent calmed my racing heart.

Pulling back slightly, our foreheads rested against each others'. My hands, his hands, were both locked around one another's necks, rubbing soothing strokes on the exposed skin. Tentatively, our lips met. Soft, slow, and passionately, they moved together in perfect motion. Unwilling to, but needing to, I broke away from the kiss.

Edward slipped his fingers through mine, and led me through to the house. His hand was gripping mine tightly, where as mine was just loose and limp. Stepping inside the house, Edward pulled me into the living room. The photo frames I had smashed had been replaced, and were now back where they had always been. I wasn't sure what to make of it, it seemed weird to me for him to do that. I was sure his twink hadn't been here yet.

"Jasper?" his voice cut through me. Turning around, I saw that he had now sat down on the sofa.

"You never called," I mumbled out, turning my eyes back to the photos.

"You told me not to. Don't you think I have wanted to? I have been waiting for you to calm down." I snorted at his comment.

"I'm hardly calm now, but one of us had to make the move. Why, Edward? Just tell me why you did this? I get it that you're bored with me, I truly do, but cheating? Even the old you never cheated, what changed?" He looked down to the floor, rubbing his hands together.

"I would have said yes, you know. That ring, I found it on the floor." Not answering him, I sat on the large, over sized chair across from him. "How can you think that I would cheat on you?"

"Edward, I was just a trial run for you, nothing more. I see that now, I didn't before. Remember the first time you told me that you loved me? Back then it didn't matter that it was flat, and you only said it to make me happy. I should have seen it then, but I didn't." Edward had now looked up at me, his face covered in his feelings of disbelief.

"I was scared the first time I told you. Jesus, Jay, you turned my fucking world upside down. You want the truth, I'll give you the truth. I saw you and I wanted to fuck you, but then something changed. In a matter of minutes my heart was thumping in my chest, I thought I was about to have a heart attack. You were smiling, but not at me, at someone else, and I suddenly wanted more than just a fuck."

"I pursued you, I wanted you, and yeah, the very first time I told you that I loved you wasn't the greatest, but I meant it. Over the years Jasper, I have fallen more and more in love with you. Fuck, you're all I want, why can't you see that?" I didn't bother looking at him, instead I looked at the blank TV.

"Because I am not your one." Out the corner of my eye, I saw Edward move and approach me. He knelt down, and took hold of my hand.

"And what makes you think that? Jasper, serious relationships were never my thing. I believed in fucking and having fun until that special person came along." Still, my head didn't turn to look at him.

"You never once told me."

"I didn't think I needed to. I assumed you would know, assumed that you would have figured it out. Jasper, there has never been another man in our bed since you. There hasn't been any twink I am fucking at the office, there hasn't been the thought of sleeping with someone else. You're all I want, why can't you see that?" his voice strained at me. Turning my head slightly, I saw his green eyes, awash with unshed tears.

"We haven't had sex in weeks, you're never home. Always late, always some meeting and you forgot our anniversary. I just assumed you had better things to do, and fuck, than being with me." Edward shook his head.

"There was no one else. Don't you think I have missed you, too? Missed us? I never intended to forget our eight year mark, but I thought it was the following week. Work has been crazy since I got that promotion, which I love, by the way, but at the cost of losing you, of losing us, it's not worth it." Without even realising it, I had begun to play with his fingers. Lacing mine through his I ran my fingers around his hand.

"And how does knowing this change everything?" I asked.

"It means we can find a common ground on this, I'll drop the promotion if I have to. I can't lose you. Why didn't you talk to me and ask?" he prompted.

"Why didn't you?" Edward chuckled and shrugged.

"I guess I never thought about it. We're both to blame here." Edward pulled my knees apart and crawled in between them. He leaned forward and ran the tip of his nose up my stomach and chest until he reached my face. "I love you, Jasper." With that his lips met mine.

Feeling his warm smooth lips, moving against mine, sent waves of love, desire and need through me. Weaving my fingers through his hair, my head tilted to the side, deepening the kiss. His tongue brushed against mine, making me moan. His taste on my tongue drove me insane. It was almost like kissing him for the very first time again.

"I need you," I panted out as Edward's lips traveled the length of my jaw.

Edward's hands traveled down my sides to my ass. Gripping me firmly, he pulled me towards him. He leaned back as he pulled me down so I ended up on his lap. His hands ran up my back, tugging my sweater up. My skin felt on fire underneath his touch, completely alive. We broke apart from the kiss, long enough for him to pull the sweater over my head.

Looking at him, I saw his normal forest green eyes, had darkened to rich dark green. His lips, so full and pouty and such a deep crimson red were slightly open, letting his warm breath fan my face. I went to go and capture his lips with mine, but he pulled back. Looking slightly confused at him, his expression changed.

"You thought I was cheating on you," he murmured in a whisper. "Thought I didn't love you, or needed you anymore."

"I'm sorry. Babe, I'm sorry," I whispered in a pleading voice. My cock was hard and straining against the denim of my jeans, desperately wanting to be released from its confinements.

"You will be," he murmured under his breath to himself.

Pushing me off his lap, Edward stood and held his hand out to me. Slightly shocked and a little confused, I took his hand as I got up off the floor. Edward led me through the house and up the stairs towards our bedroom. My heart was beating wildly in anticipation of what was to come.

Edward slammed the bedroom door shut, looking at me with burning eyes, before saying, "Strip and get on all fours, now!" His tone was so demanding and full of authority that I wasn't sure if I was more turned on or scared by it. "Now Jasper!" he practically screamed at me as he caught me staring at him.

Fumbling in my haste, I stripped quickly. Throwing my boots and socks somewhere on the bedroom floor, I left my jeans and boxers in a pile. Climbing on the bed, my breathing became erratic, coming out in low deep pants as I waited to see what he was planning.

I giggled and squirmed as I felt his fingertips touch the soles of my feet. He knew how much I hated my feet being touched, even more so the soles of them. Kicking my feet, I tried to get him off me. "Edward, please stop doing that," I pleaded with him.

"No!" he growled out at me as he moved his hands up my calves and thighs. "I love you, Jasper. Never thought I would, but I do and you seem to think I would sooner fuck some twink." His hand sneaked further up the back of my thighs, slipping in between the crack of my ass.

"Edward," I breathed as his fingers teased and taunted my hole.

"You'll never doubt me again." His fingers disappeared from teasing me, making me whimper. Not turning around to look at him, I heard the bedside drawer open and close. My heart rate picked up, beating like crazy inside my chest as I heard the unmistakable sound of the box of toys opening with a 'click'.

Sucking in a few deep breaths, my eyes closed as the snap of the lube lid hit my ears. The bed dipped again as he positioned himself behind me and began trailing his slick fingers around my hole, teasing and tormenting me until I was gasping and pleading with him.

"Edward... Please!" My strangled cry of frustration echoed throughout our bedroom. Edward chuckled behind me, and sank his teeth into my left ass cheek. "Fuck, Edward, that hurt!"

"It belongs to me," he grunted at me in a harsh tone before sinking his teeth into the other cheek. "You don't get to choose, Jasper. No amount of begging and pleading will make me hurry up. You thought I was fucking someone else!" he snapped at me as he thrust two fingers inside of me. I yelped slightly, caught so unaware that he was about to do that.

Thrusting his fingers in and out of me, I slowly began to rock back against his fingers that had begun to stroke my prostate. Moaning as the wonderful pleasures began to fill me I lifted a hand up and began to stroke myself.

"NO!" he growled. "No, you fucking don't." He pulled his fingers out of me, making me whimper at the loss. The click of the lube bottle again filled the room, before his slick warm hand gripped my hard cock.

"Edward... Please, I need you." I was not above begging for what I wanted. He chuckled at me, and flipped the lid on the box.

A few moments later, Edward pushed a cock ring over me. I moaned both out of pleasure and frustration that he wanted to punish me this way. "You'll cum if and when I allow you too, do you understand, Jasper?"

"Yes, but..." He cut me off before I could even finish my sentence.

"But nothing." With that I felt the first bead enter me. Slowly he pushed each one inside of me. I had no idea which one he had picked, there was more than one in there, each different from the other one. "I'm going to enjoy this," was all he said before flicked the switch on.

The vibration from the beads was pushing against my sweet spot, making me cry out in pleasure. He hadn't wasted his time. There was no slow build of playing around with the speed, slowly building it up to the fastest setting. Edward had gone for the full speed right away.

My forearms began to shake as I could feel my climax quickly approaching. My cock twitched and throbbed, painfully hard against my stomach. Edward soon began to slowly stroke me, pushing me even further towards my release.

"Do you want to cum, Jasper?" he murmured in my ear, as I began to thrust into his hand.

"Yes! God, yes!" Edward snorted at me as I became desperate for the release that wouldn't come while that cock ring was in place.

"Tough. Stay there, don't even think about removing that ring," he growled in my ear. A mixture of pain and desire laced his words, making me feel guilty.

The bed moved as he got off, and began to remove the remainder of his clothing. My eyes caught sight of him, standing there in his wonderful naked form. His pale white skin covering the well defined muscles of his chest and stomach, and the short, tiny trail of bronze hair that ran from his belly button all the way to his cock. I couldn't help but groan at the sight of him.

"Please. Please," I pleaded with him, wanting him to both fuck me and let me cum. He came into view and shook his head at me. Picking up the bottle of lube, he poured a small amount in his palm and began to stroke himself, making me whimper.

His eyes closed and his lips parted, letting out the faintest sounds of moans as he continued to stroke himself slowly; completely ignoring me and my pleas to be fucked.

Pretty soon I was in tears. My body couldn't take much more of the pleasure without finding its release. To feel the tight coil in my stomach getting tighter and tighter, yet not being able to release was bitter sweet. As my tears fell from my eyes, Edward looked at me with a sweet smile on his lips, enjoying seeing my pain.

He went to say something but stopped and climbed on the bed instead. Feeling his hand glide slowly over my ass towards the end of the beads, the vibration suddenly stopped. Yet no sooner had that happened, he was pulling the beads from me, causing me to moan out in delight.

The tip of his head teased around my hole before slamming into me, hard. The force in which he entered me made me cry out in both pleasure and pain and drop to my forearms. Buried inside of me to the hilt, he stilled his movements for a second before pulling nearly all the way out of me and slamming back in again.

Crying in pleasure, he picked up a hard, fast rhythm, slamming into me harder and faster than the last time. The sound of my cries, his grunts and the slapping of skin filled our bedroom. Edward's fingers gripped my hips hard, and he was digging them into me which would surely leave his mark on me. With every thrust he hit my sweet spot, making my body tremble with need for its own release; release he wouldn't let me have.

Suddenly, I felt something warm and wet hit the base of my back. Turning my head and looking over my shoulder, I saw his tears roll down his cheeks before falling from his jaw line and onto my skin.

"Turn around, Jasper," he said, adding a hard thrust. The reaction to it made me shut my eyes and bite my bottom lip. His assault on me continued, until his thrusts became more frantic and out of rhythm.

"Eight fucking years, Jasper. Eight years I have fucked you and you alone," he panted out. "Don't you ever fucking doubt me." With that his hand released from my hip and grabbed my cock, pulling the cock ring off. He began to stroke me in time with his thrusts.

"Cum with me, Jay." With a final, hard thrust into me, I came, hard.

Screaming his name, my body was slammed with the full force of my orgasm. Stars flashed in my eyes as my body shook and trembled, shooting my cum all over his hand and the bedding. Blissful waves of sheer pleasure rippled its way throughout my body, casting me off to some higher plane. A few moments after me, I felt Edward's warm cum fill me, as my name fell from his lips in breathless whispers.

Coming down from his high, he slowly pulled out of me and grabbed the wet wipes off the side. He never said another word to me as he cleaned us both and the bedding up. Turning around and sitting on the bed, I looked over to Edward, who was on the corner of the bed, looking at his hands.

"Edward?" I called out in a whisper, feeling slightly nervous over his reaction right now.

"I never meant to forget our eight year mark. I never meant to lose us with my job, and I certainly never meant to make you feel like there was someone else. Jasper, I've never cheated. Not on you or anyone else, it's just not my style." Sliding myself down the bed to him, I wrapped my arms tightly around him, burying my hands in his soft hair.

"I haven't been able to do anything with you gone, you leaving shattered my world. I thought I had lost you," he murmured while nuzzling his face in the crook of my neck.

"Me too. In my head it all made sense. You never being here, coming home later and later, missing our anniversary, and us not having sex anymore. I sorta just figured there was someone else and instead of confronting you over it, I just left. Truth is, I couldn't handle you admitting it." Edward brushed his lips to my neck and pulled me even tighter to him.

"Don't leave again, please. It's not home without you being here, Jay. If you want us to get married we will do. If you want us to move we can. Anything you want, you can have it." Pulling back from his embrace, I saw his green and slightly blood shot eyes pleading with me.

"I don't want to move, I like it here. What I want is you here, home at a decent time at the end of the day. And yeah, I want us to get married; but I know you don't, so I won't push it," I sighed, a little defeated at that thought.

Looking at him, I saw the frown on his face. His brow knitted tightly together as he stared at me with such intensity it scared me slightly.

"I want us to. Jay, you know my parent's marriage never worked. They rushed it, did it too young, did it because they were expecting me. I'm worried that getting married would shatter what we have and I would lose you. That's my only reason for not wanting it. I never saw a good example of marriage. My parents were at each others throats all the time, the love they once had disappeared and instead hate took its place," he sighed and took hold of my hands in his, giving them a squeeze.

"I don't want that for us, yet I know I can't let my parent's failed marriage stop me from getting married to the man that makes me complete." Letting go of my hands, he crawled up the bed.

Twisting my body, I looked at him. His head was back, resting against the headboard, and long, muscular legs spread out in front of him. He brought his right knee up and bent it, before resting his wrist over it. Edward sighed deeply, and looked at me.

"I'm resigning," he stated matter-of-fact at me. I wasn't sure how I was meant to feel hearing them words come from his mouth.

He loved his job, worked hard to get where he had gotten in the company, yet a small tiny little piece of me was happy to hear it. Moving, I crawled up the bed and his body. Straddling his waist, I locked our fingers together and leaned back against his knee.

"If that's what you want to do, I'll support your decision." Edward smiled and leaned forward to kiss me.

"I want you more. I know we have things to sort out and talk about, but I want you, and only you. Everything else doesn't matter, only you." The wave of warmth spread though my body, starting from my chest. Love flooded throughout me, making me break out into a smile that I don't think I could have held in if I tried.

"You mean that?" I asked shyly.

"Hand on heart." Leaning forward, I pressed my lips to his, letting my love for him flow through our kiss.


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