The Appointment - Chapter 13 - Doctor Monroe
The Appointment
By miztrezboo80
Chapter: 13. Doctor Monroe
Genre: Twilight - Drama / Romance
Characters: Bella, Jasper
Rating: MA/NC17
Warnings: Strong Language, Sexual Content,
Status: Work In Progress
Beta'd By: Ilsuocantante
Summary: "Bella had the perfect life. The perfect husband to love, the perfect house, the perfect job.. everything perfect. Until one night the shutters came up and the perfect movie life she thought she was living came crashing down around her. Enter... The Sexy Bella.. After shenanigans in the tool shed go awry, Bella's forced into sex therapy with one hot looking doctor. But when he can't handle her, he calls the only person he knows who can ... A series of unusual sessions, admissions and out and out seduction become the norm for her Tuesday Appointments. But will Bella ever get any better? "
Banner By: Nostalgicmiss Disclaimer: All things Twilight not mine.. songs mentioned.. nah, I'm not that clever. Silly plot and situations, yeh, I'll claim that :D I'm being slightly naughty and posting this without Lester as she is in le Big APPLE with my BatGirl ... However, Russell has beta approved a go ahead and mischief, bendingmirrors and my twin have preread so without ANY further ado..
My Chemical Romance - I'm Not Okay (I Promise) ~ "What will it take to show you that it's not the life it seems?"
I yawned, stretching my arms slowly above my head, knocking into something that I was sure didn't belong to my bed frame. It was only when I opened my eyes to look did I remember.
I was at Jasper's. In Jasper's bed. After spending the night with him.
Flashes of the night before ran through my head. Me in the shower, my complete melt down. Jasper throwing a towel over my naked body.
I rolled over and squeezed my face into the pillow. Jasper had seen me naked! Normally, this would fulfill every one of Sexy Bella's dreams but not like this. Not with how I had lost it with the crying and the snot sobbing.
Oh, my god he had seen my face covered in snot! I moaned into the pillow, rolling it with me onto my back and pressing the soft cotton into my face. Wow, it even smelled like him. I was here, in Jasper Whitlock's bed, with my face pressed against his pillow, breathing in his scent like I was some trained sniffer dog looking for heroin at the airport. And the whole time, I wasn't turned on.
Huh. That'll be a first.
I reached my arm over to the other side of the bed. Nothing but cool sheets. Very soft cool sheets, so I gathered they must be a good thread count. Not as soft as ours at home, but Edward's mother picked those so I would hazard a guess that they would be nothing but the finest Egyptian cotton. I wouldn't know, I never made our bed. That was our housekeeper's job. The housekeeper his mother had hired because my cleaning skills hadn't been enough in the beginning. I hated her meddling in our new life together at the time, but later I welcomed not having to worry about anything outside of my own pleasure seeking.
I rolled again onto what I assumed was his side of the bed and again lost myself in the sweet and musky scent that was him. Was it weird that I was doing this after completely losing my shit the night before? Probably. It was the only way I knew how to deal. He obviously wasn't still in bed to talk to, and I vaguely remembered being held in his arms.
"You're not alone, Bella. I'm here with you."
He had been, too. If I closed my eyes once more and really concentrated, I could still feel his warmth surrounding me. His arms pulling me to his chest, the sound of his heartbeat under my ear. I could still feel how safe and wanted and protected that his actions and words provided. I'd never felt that before. Not even with Edward. He was never one for snuggling. It was either smothering me with half his body over mine and his head turned away, or lying all the way on the other side of the bed not even within arm's reach.
Edward claimed that he loved me; he claimed that he wanted me, needed me. Yet how did he ever show it? Buying me pretty things? Giving me access to his credit card? Making sure I never did without, but still leaving me with nothing that I truly wanted. I wanted to feel loved. I wanted to feel it deep down in my bones so that I never had to ask, I just knew. I don't know if I had that with him, or ever did.
Was my life up until now really such a farce?
I sighed deeply, breathing in that familiar and calming "Jasper" scent and realized that I had come here to purge my old life, get rid of the grief and blame that I had placed upon myself. To finally have answers to questions that I never knew I wanted answers to, and now I was here with even more.
And not a Jasper to be found.
I rolled back over, leaving Jasper's pillow back on the bed and opened my eyes. The sun was streaming in the window above the bed. Warm rays played over my newly revealed skin as I stripped the blankets back and let my body acclimate to the air in the room. I stretched my arms and legs out and relished the space around me. I don't know what it was, whether it was the weight of the past, actually letting everything out instead of keeping it buried, or just . . . being here that made me feel so free.
It was like with all the admissions, the guilt that I'd carried around for far too long was just. . . lifted off my shoulders. This cloak of emotional weight that had been blanketed over me, invisible to the naked eye was shifted - gone, poof. I breathed in deep, filling my lungs with precious oxygen and it felt as if I'd never actually done that before. That there were parts of my insides that had never actually experienced what it was like to be filled so fully with air. I smiled to myself, kicking my feet wildly in a scene which I'm sure if anyone was looking, was mildly reminiscent of Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman when she throws herself on the huge bed.
I wanted to do that, I wanted to scream as loud as possible that I finally felt again. There was this powerful surge of happiness pounding through my veins and making my whole body buzz with positivity. Maybe it was weird or wrong to act like this after such a huge expelling of my deep dark secrets. Yet I couldn't find any part of me that wanted to go backward. If this was what really opening myself up and reliving the hard parts was like, then I think I'd actually start participating more in our sessions.
Maybe I could figure out exactly who I was and what I wanted. Who I wanted . . . and as of right now, that person was Jasper.
I swung my legs over the side of his bed and padded quietly across the cool wood. Maybe he'd left me here on my own after I had fallen asleep. I knew that he'd held me for a long time, much longer than was probably appropriate and I knew that I hadn't let him go either. I needed his warmth, I needed his reassurance that he wouldn't let me go. Wouldn't leave me alone while everything I'd ever thought was true about myself slowly disappeared under the weight of his words. He had to have just gotten up, or slept on the couch once I was fast asleep. As much as I was attracted to Jasper - and I was so attracted to Jasper - I didn't want him to get into any trouble. I knew that being here, in his house, in his bed and. . .
. . . Holy shit, I was wearing his clothes.
I fingered the hem of the warm sweatshirt I was wearing, the material fairly faded and there were even a few holes along the seam. I let my head slip to the side, my nose nudging the fabric and selfishly breathed in the fabric softener and well, that Jasper smell that I apparently couldn't get enough of. I looked down at my legs, noticing the cute Snoopy boxer shorts he'd put me in. Flashes of him dressing me came back at the speed of light and I wondered when the hell I'd taken off the sleep pants I could now recall I had been wearing.
I walked back to my side of the bed, pushing the covers to the side until I found them tucked into the sheet where one of us had kicked the sheets down. I don't know why I was blushing as I pulled them back on, rerolling the legs up so my feet were on show again.
I could see him at my feet, his fingers gentle on my skin as he pulled the soft material up my legs and then folding it over my ankles. I could feel his gentle touch, his hands rubbing over my calves and outer thighs, trying to warm me up or stop the shakes that were involuntary by that stage. He cared so much. It was obvious in everything he had done for me.
Walking into the bathroom, I could see the wet towels strewn across the floor, no sign of my clothes, which was a little odd. Being in here, the tap still dripping in the shower brought another set of emotions from last night rushing back. Me on the floor in the corner of the shower stall, sobbing like a crazy person. Jasper pounding on the door for me to let him in. I ran my finger down the side of the doorframe, the splintered wood sharp under my touch as the door hung limply on one hinge.
He'd done that for me. He'd broken his own door just to make sure I was okay. I was so lost, so lost in my own world of pain that I hadn't even recognized the look on his face when he came in. Worry and concern painted his features in my mind and I again wondered if that was good doctor patient relations or perhaps something more. Maybe I was reading too much into what had occurred last night. Maybe the way he touched me, held me, was nothing but the soothing presence of the care giver he was.
Would he charge me for last night?
He'd looked after me, held me, dressed me even and never once could I recall him checking me out when I was naked. That was definitely something I wasn't used to. It wasn't like I thought he was oblivious to my charms, I knew that he'd been more than happy to stare at my tits before, but last night when I was unclothed and completely vulnerable and yet. . .
He hadn't even made an accidental brush over the girls when he pulled his hoodie around me. Was I losing my touch? Or had seeing me covered in snot and bawling my eyes out turned him completely off? Or was he just that good of a doctor?
Or was I still reading too much into the way he'd looked after me? Consoled me. Comforted and made me feel so safe.
Standing here, in his clothes, in his bathroom surrounded by his things was confusing. Thoughts of last night were still fresh in my mind. Talking about Dad and Marcus. How accountable I felt for their deaths, that just because of Edward's fucking Mother and my own desire to be better , I had forced them out of my home and basically thrown them into that tree, into harm's way. Jasper said that it wasn't my fault. That it was an accident.
I walked over to the mirror, leaning on the sink and staring at my reflection. Who was this person in front of me? The eyes I knew, they were my father's, dark brown irises framed by long lashes. The same plain-jane brown hair to match, only with a slight wave to it. The waves were the only part of me that was directly linked to my mother. Not that I really remembered her. I'd blocked a lot of Renee leaving us from my mind. Just the heated words and fights, the endless cacophony of sound that would radiate through my walls and have me sneaking along the roof to climb into Marcus' room, into his bed where he'd assure me that we'd be okay. That the yelling would soon stop and we'd be fine. That my mom, our mom, still loved me no matter what she said, no matter what she blamed me for.
Marcus always had a way to keep me on an even keel. Keep me believing in myself even when I was riding off the rails trying to keep up with everything that he did. Not even Marcus knew how low I had stooped back then. The meaningless sex I had with everyone on his football team, even the one gay guy in our school - just so he could say he'd at least tried. Anything to be popular like he was, to be noticed like he was. I'd idolized Marcus and so did half the town's population, and at least three quarters of Forks High. He was so sporty, and smart on top of that. He was the complete package of looks, brains and brawn.
And what was I?
I was just his kid sister, the girl with the braces and the greasy looking hair. Right up until my Junior Year, I was just a joke to all his friends. Then I'd spent the summer with my Aunt Carmen in New Mexico and everything changed. I had my braces taken off, I filled out and got a tan and had quite the interest from the local boys. By the time I got home, I was a completely different person. Mom's sister had taught me how to style my hair, how to accentuate my eyes just so with smoky shadow and even how to sway my hips when I walked.
Aunt Carmen was an old stage dancer - or whatever it was she decided to tell me instead of the fact that she actually had worked at a strip club for most of her teen years and ended up running a brothel - even when I was there and right up until the day she died, three years after my visit. That was the problem with me. I'd felt like I was poison to everyone I knew. Everyone I touched seemed to turn from shiny silver to antiquated brass as the acid of who I tried to be ate away at everything that was good. Everything that had ever meant anything to me was more or less destroyed by decisions I had made.
Yet I could still hear Jasper in the back of my mind, "Bella, none of these things are your fault." How could I believe in that? When all I'd known as the truth for so long was the exact opposite.
The high I'd been on since I'd woken was rapidly dissipating as the ramifications of last night dawned on me like the sun shining through the circular window pane. I watched as tears filled my eyes, spilling over my lids and slowly running down my cheeks. Confusion didn't even cover what I felt anymore. I was completely tangled in the web of my own making. A web that didn't seem to have a beginning or an end in sight. I was here, alone, with no one to help me out.
Where the hell was my Jasper?
I scrubbed at my eyes, wiping at the moist skin before turning the tap on and splashed the cold water onto my face. I looked a little better. I hadn't let myself get so worked up that my eyes were red, a little puffy maybe but that was all. It was time to find Jasper, time to figure out where to go from here and see what other tricks he had up his sleeve for "fixing" me. I looked around for my clothes, but still couldn't see them. Maybe he'd taken them downstairs to dry, where the hell would he dry anything on a houseboat was beyond me, but surely there had to be something machinery or otherwise on this little tug that would be able to do that.
I wandered out the adjoining door, pausing momentarily at his expansive closet. For a small boat, houseboat, or whatever the name was you called this thing he really did have a decent clothes space. I let my fingers run over his jackets and crisp business shirts. Then onto the multitude of vests and jeans that were hung with care. I tried not to count how many boots I could see lined up on the floor but there were less than I had thought there would be. His clothes weren't hung according to color and style, his shoes weren't sorted into work and going out. These weren't just things to him. I could tell that each boot, each belt buckle would have a story behind it. He didn't just view clothes as something of an accessory, something that said more about his status than who he actually was a person. No, these were an extension of his personality, of what made him . . . him.
It shouldn't surprise me to see more and more differences between how he and Edward viewed the world. With Edward, everything had its place. Everything could be answered by scientific or mathematical measures. Emotions were calculated to the very last degree. He would never have got in the shower with me. He would never have held me like for hours on end. He would never have dressed me. He definitely wouldn't have told me everything was going to be alright. He would have gone quiet, given me 'my space' and after we'd fallen asleep, it would never have been mentioned again.
He'd done exactly that when Marcus had died. He'd been there, he'd held me, yes, but it had been awkward. It was always awkward when it came to sharing feelings like that, especially when it came to comfort. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I'd never even seen his mother hug him, or touch his hand. She'd offer him her cheek, hell, she'd even offered me her cheek when we were at my father's funeral. The woman was colder than cold, ice queen was a name too warm even for her.
Damn it!
Fucking Edward was due home today! How the hell would I explain my absence over night if he tried to call. If he tried to call. I hadn't heard from him since he left, but then again, I hadn't really used my phone either. I'd been blocking everyone and everything that could possibly break into my little self made bubble of ignorance. Maybe he had called, maybe he did care?
Ha! I highly doubted it. Still, I couldn't stay here, I'd already imposed so much on Jasper. I wanted to talk more, I wanted to say thank you. I wanted to feel what I'd felt last night again. The touch and comfort that he seemed to be able to give me. I wanted to apologize for vomiting over his deck. Oh god, that was definitely something I had to apologize for. If I could manage to find him, that is, and I wouldn't be doing that by standing here in his closet.
I raced down the stairs as quietly and quickly as possible, looking and listening for any signs of life beyond my own, and finding none. He wasn't in the kitchen, he wasn't in the living area. I even opened up the little door to what was his office. Nothing. He was just . . . gone.
Walking back into the kitchen I could hear the buzzer going off on the dryer. It must have been beeping for a while because the clothes inside - my clothes inside - weren't even warm anymore. Maybe he'd put them in after leaving me in bed the night before? Did he sleep on the couch? I looked over from my position in the kitchen and didn't notice any blankets or anything like bed linen in the living room. Maybe he'd put it all away already?
That still didn't answer the question as to his whereabouts. Would he have just left me? It was the weekend, maybe he had something on and had to leave quickly. I looked around the kitchen for a note, he'd have to have left a note. I mean, I'd had what would most likely constitute as a complete breakdown the night before. He wouldn't just go.
Would he?
I checked the fridge, nothing. I looked over near the phone, nothing. I wandered around his living room and over near the front door where he had a bowl for his keys, which I know noted was empty.
Nothing.
So he had his keys, it was - I checked the time on his microwave - one pm. Maybe he'd gone to grab us lunch? Would he really have just left me, though? Wouldn't he want to discuss what was going on, talk about the night before? I walked back into the kitchen and picked up my pile of clothes from where I'd left them on the bench. He'd probably just ducked out for a moment. Otherwise, he would have left a note; he was just that type of guy. He wouldn't have left me here, all alone in his house. It wasn't his style.
I was just about to head back upstairs to get dressed when I heard my phone, well, my phone, not Sexy B's. That meant either Edward or Jasper. I raced back over to the lounge, finding my purse on the coffee table and grabbed out my phone. I didn't even bother to check who it was, just sliding it up to answer a little out of breath.
"Where are you?"
"I'm at the airport. Did you forget you were supposed to pick me up at noon today?"
Shit. Not Jasper.
A very pissed off sounding Edward. Well now, emotion, wasn't that a change.
"No. I mean yes I knew but I kind of forgot. I was with Jasper -"
Shit, shit, shit! Why did I say that!
I heard him sigh on the other side of the phone, his next words semi muffled from the loudspeaker announcing a flight arrival.
"I'm sorry, Edward? I missed that?"
"I said, don't worry about it, I can get a taxi home. Did you get that message from Mother about the Silent Auction next weekend?"
"No. I've been busy."
He sighed again and I could picture him running his hand through his hair like he always did when I frustrated him, or just anytime in general. "Isabella, you can't just avoid her all the time. She's done so much for us."
Of course, of course he'd take her side. Didn't he realize by now how much I hated going to these things? She'd show Edward off like the star that he was and I'd have to be all prim and fucking proper and play my good doctors wife role. It wasn't like I could even make these events fun anymore, now that Sexy B was supposedly behind closed doors, and shut up shop so to speak.
"Fine. I'll think about it."
"It's the hospital's biggest fundraiser for the year, Isabella. It wouldn't hurt for us to go together."
"I said I'll think about it, Edward." Why was he pushing this? I always went. I complained, but I always went.
"I just think..." he paused and the sounds around him of people rushing by were insistent in the background. "I missed you. I was hoping you would be here when I got off the plane."
Wow, way to make a girl feel the guilt.
"I'm not that far away, Edward. I can be there if you want to just wait a moment."
Why was I feeling like I had to apologize? He was the one who had left me and gone away even when he would have obviously seen that I was upset. It wasn't like I tended to bunker down in the house very often. Yet, this was his way and I knew it. Avoid the hard and difficult discussions and focus on anything else.
I shouldn't feel guilty. I shouldn't feel like I owed him something when I'd spent the night with Jasper, even if it was just talking - well, more like me blubbering and Jasper trying to keep me together - and I still had no idea where Jasper was.
"I'd like that," he said, sounding genuinely happy. I wonder what he'd feel like if I told him exactly how I'd spent my night.
Would he be happy that I'd finally gotten everything off my chest, discussed what had been plaguing me for weeks, let alone years to Jasper? Would he think he had finally gotten his money's worth out of my sessions with me having a break through like this? I had so much more to discuss with Jasper. I had a whole new appreciation for everything he had done to get me this far. I had a whole new appreciation for the man in general. On top of that, I had a list as long as my arm of new things that I wanted to ask, answers that I wanted - knew that he could help me find the answers to.
It would have to wait. Edward needed me and I felt slightly guilty about where I was standing, half dressed talking to him on the phone. I made my goodbyes, quickly pulled on my clean clothes, folding the makeshift pajamas that Jasper had loaned me and placing them on his bed. Wherever Jasper was, he was just going to have to understand that I had to leave. I knew he probably wanted to have some sort of debriefing or further discussion on what had happened last night, but I just didn't have the time, and I had no idea where he was or when he was going to come back. I wandered back downstairs and found a piece of paper and a pen. It wasn't that hard, they were both sitting by his house phone which made me a little peeved that he couldn't do me the same courtesy that I was about to do him.
Jasper,
I had to go pick up Edward from the airport.
I would have liked to talk some more, but you were nowhere to be found. Not even a note like I'm leaving you, right here on your counter.
Words can't express what last night meant for me. I just wish I could have seen you again this morning. Please call me when you get a chance. Maybe we can organize an earlier session or have coffee. Something?
Thank you for being there.
Bella.
I pulled on my shoes, a little more difficult to put back on considering I'd forgone the stockings, they didn't survive Jasper's washing machine all too well. Picking up my purse I heard the reminder on my other phone, Sexy B's phone going off. I forgot I even had that phone anymore, it had been such a long time since I'd had to use it. Which made me wonder, did I even need it?
Was I really anything like that woman anymore? Did I need to be her to have some sort of satisfaction in my life? Or could I finally find some balance between the two? Would I be able to just be me? Whenever it was that I figured out just who she was.
I did know one thing. I didn't want to go back to being Sexy B. I didn't want to hurt anyone in my life anymore. I didn't want to pretend to be something that I wasn't. I may not know exactly who I was yet, but I wasn't her anymore. I walked out the French doors and onto Jasper's deck. It took all of two seconds thought before I raised the phone in my fist and sent it flying into the sparkling blue waters and I felt. . . good. Great, even. The sun was shining. The birds were literally singing - albeit noisy water birds, but birds nonetheless - and I was on my way to finding out what I wanted and who I was.
All I needed now was Jasper.
A week had passed and I still hadn't heard from him.
I'd picked up Edward from the airport and he was his usual self. He was always tired after a long flight and being away. He'd kissed my cheek, and said nothing about my messy updo and wrinkled clothes. He never asked where I had been before coming to get him, and I never offered. I just didn't feel… right about saying that I'd spent the night with Jasper.
I knew he wasn't that keen on him, especially after the way I'd acted when I'd been out with Angela that night. He wasn't sure that Jasper was a right fit for me, medically. Even though I knew if I told him about what had happened, how I had remembered and begun to deal with my past that he would be ecstatic for me, I still kept it to myself.
Yet as the week went on and I didn't hear a word from Jasper, I started second guessing myself. I messaged, just to check in and that he did get my note. Nothing. I rang the office to speak to him, and that skanky receptionist kept saying he was unavailable. I accidentally drove past a few times, and his bike was never there. I started to feel like I did something wrong. I left him a note. I'd tried to call, I'd even gone about things through proper channels, just like he'd been asking me to.
So what the hell was this?
By the time Tuesday rolled around, I was past being worried that it was me who had caused whatever it was that made him avoid me. No, I was far more into the realm of fucking highly annoyed that he could just drop me like that. How could he think that not talking to me after the discussion that we'd had, my whole world crumbling down around me like it had that night, wouldn't deserve some type of communication between us afterward?
I liked to think that we'd built up some sort of relationship in the time I'd been seeing him. I liked to believe that he wouldn't just leave me hanging like this. But as every call went unanswered, every hour turned into a day and then another, it hurt. It was like my best friend was ignoring me. From having Jasper's ear virtually whenever I needed it to nothing, nada, zip was particularly hard. It wasn't like I had many friends. I checked in on Angela and apologized for my own selfishness. After I dropped around with another huge gift basket for her and baby Maggie and spent a few hours just listening to her talk, being the friend I should have been in the first place, I ended up leaving with our relationship still intact.
But Jasper was different. Yes, he was my doctor, but . . . I liked to think of him as more than that. It was probably all stupid and one sided, but he always seemed to know what I was thinking. When to push, when to stay silent, and damn it if he wasn't all sexy as fuck while he did it. He gave me those butterflies in my stomach like you so often hear about in movies and books, and as much as I could credit it to him actually paying attention to me after Edward was mostly so cold, there was something there.
So why was he ignoring me?
If he was sick, why didn't the receptionist say something. If he had some type of family drama occur, why didn't he just call or even text? Edward knew that something was up, I'd virtually ignored him since he came home, only answering his questions as briefly as possible. I'd even slept the few nights that he was home in the spare room, saying I'd fallen asleep in front of the TV and didn't want to wake him. It was something that I had done before so he never mentioned it. Then again, he never questioned how I'd been or if I'd finally talked to Jasper about my family. It was just another moment in my life that he'd decided to sweep under the carpet once that particular anniversary was over. Just like he had done every other year.
Needless to say, by the time our regular Tuesday appointment rolled around, I wasn't going to take "he was busy" or "he's not available" for an answer. I had my favorite pair of jeans on, my kick ass boots and a sweet cream sweater that covered my breasts for a change. I didn't want anything to be misconstrued when I talked to him today. I wanted to make sure he realized that I meant business. I wanted his help, his friendship, and I wasn't taking no for an answer.
The day was grey and on the verge of storming again as I drove to the clinic. It matched my tense mood perfectly as I headed inside the building, not even bothering to listen to the frizzy haired desk jockey as I walked toward Jasper's office. I pushed open the door, not really paying attention to what was in front of me. I knew Jasper's office like the back of my hand and I also knew that if I looked at him while I said what I had to say, I probably wouldn't make it through half of my speech.
"Alright, I'm here and I'm pissed off. If talking is what you want then talking is what you'll get because I'm damn tired of trying to ring you and getting nothing in return. A week of your avoidance has been more than enough, especially how you left things the last time I saw you so, what do you have to say for yourself!"
I finally took a deep breath and allowed myself to look over at his chair once I'd placed my bag on the table and my hands on my hips.
"Jasper?"
I asked noticing for the first time that he wasn't wearing his regular cowboy style boots today. Nor was he wearing his jeans. Or his usual vest and button shirt combo. If I wasn't mistaken, he'd not been wearing glasses the last time I saw him and he definitely didn't have brown eyes.
"You're not Jasper," I mumbled, falling back into my regular chair.
"No, ma'am. Doctor Munroe, at your service."
This 'Doctor Monroe' character smiled at me all slow and with that southern twang to his words and a crooked smile that vaguely reminded me of Edward. He had what one would call a kind face, all angular jaw and slightly crooked nose, warm brown eyes and wavy ash blond hair. In another life, another time, I would have found him sexy.
Now?
Nothing.
He wasn't my Jasper.
I could see his lips moving but my mind and ears were still blanking out everything but the swirl of emotions and questions running rampant in my head. Something about Doctor Whitlock attending to family business in the south. Something about Doctor Whitlock feeling that he would be a good fit for me. Something about Doctor Whitlock moving my case on. Something about how he was looking forward to working with me in the future.
Who the hell did he think he was?
Jasper just fucking moving me on without saying a word? Was that even fucking allowed? How dare he! How dare he help me with everything, get me to a place where I fucking threw away everything that was the old me and moved onto this, this fucking less than perfect doppelganger of Jasper. I mean, he was virtually the same as my Jasper, but with subtle differences. He was the Un-Jasper and he just wouldn't do.
No, I'd have to hear this from his own lips. There was no way that he would just up and leave me. Not after what we'd gone through together. Not after that night where I knew I felt something shift between us. We weren't just doctor and patient. We'd become something more. I couldn't be reading too much into it. I knew how I felt, at least I thought I did.
"Mrs. Masen? Would you like something to drink before we begin?"
I blinked hard trying to figure out just what the hell I could do next. The Un Jasper was staring at me, that concerned smile playing across his thin lips, and I knew I had no right but I hated him on sight. There was no way I was going to stay here. I had to know, I needed to see Jasper. Not some two cent knock off.
"No, look. I have to go. This isn't going to work for me."
I stood up and picked up my things, vaguely perceiving his monotonous drawl in the background to which I shook my head and headed back out the door. I didn't even bother to scowl like I usually did at the front desk bitch. I felt… strange.
I wanted to be angry at him for doing this. I wanted to be pissed off and I kind of was. However, I wanted to make sure he was alright. I knew from what Carlisle had told me that night at the bar that his biological father lived in the south. Had something horrible happened to his family? Was he okay? I wanted to offer my help. Offer my assistance in whatever form he deemed acceptable.
It had started to rain in the short time I'd been inside the clinic. I started the car and quickly made it out of the lot and onto the road without thinking twice. Maybe I could just check his mail for him, or see if he was home to offer my condolences or something. In truth, I had the car turned toward his boat house long before I could even rationalize any real reason why I needed to go to his house.
The rain only came down heavier the closer I got to the sound. I was a mess of emotions, wanting to see him there, not wanting to see him there. Wanting because then I could ask just what in the hell he thought he was doing ignoring me, ignoring the relationship of trust I thought we had built. Not wanting, because if he was there . . . it meant that he could have called, could have been in touch. I couldn't decide which I wanted more and as I pulled into the end of his street and parked my car, I just sat there with the engine off.
I tried to make myself open the door, and convinced myself I didn't have to until the rain lessened a little. I talked myself in and out of that car more times in the next ten minutes of sitting there than I had ever thought would be possible for such a small decision. He was either at his house. Or he wasn't. It was as simple as that. My hand twitched above the door handle, leaning in and moving out with each difference of decision made. Just as my fingertips finally touched the cool metal, a taxi - the only other form of transportation to pass since I arrived - pulled up in front of the gate that lead down to Jasper's house.
Maybe this was him? Maybe he'd arrived back and we could discuss the idiot replacement he thought would work for me. I couldn't help but smile as I thought about just seeing him again. The smile only widened as I spotted a familiar head of wheat blonde curls appear from behind the gate, the taxi pulled off just to the side enough so I could see. So he was home. Maybe this was part of his family that were the reason he was staying away? I felt almost rude, intruding on this moment but I couldn't look away either. I was just glad to see him. Obviously, it was someone he knew inside the cab with the way his face lit up and his arms shot out wide in front of him, not even caring to cover himself from the rain.
I stared through the rapidly fogging windscreen, the sound of the wipers swishing back and forth across the glass loud in the now silent car. The happiness I'd felt at seeing that he was here, was still around was short-lived the moment that tiny woman got out of the cab and hurled herself into his waiting arms. The rain poured down all over them, but they appeared not to care, her legs wrapped around his waist, his arms holding her tight.
Who was she? And more importantly, why was she all over my Jasper?
As the taxi pulled away, he turned them side on and I nearly vomited then and there in the car as his mouth was virtually plundered by hers. Stupid small, ebony haired nymph. Of course he would like them teeny and tiny. No wonder he had stared at my tits the way he did if he was only getting the barest of handfuls at home. Fuck him for playing the endless eye fuck with me. Fuck him for making me believe that he cared.
There was only one person I trusted. One person who I believed in and who I thought believed in me. Fuck him. Fuck him for thinking he could just dump me. Fuck him for what, being too in denial at what we had built up, outside of our so called professional relationship. Didn't he feel what I felt? It couldn't all have been in my head. I closed my eyes, leaning my head against the steering wheel and let myself remember.
I could still feel his body wrapped around mine in his bed. Still feel his lips upon my brow, whispering that he'd take care of me. Still feel his touch, his fingertips on my skin in reverence.
That wasn't how a doctor and patient acted.
That wasn't how 'friends' comforted each other.
No. This was. . . it had to be something more. And this, this had to be him ignoring it. Ignoring what we could be, what could possibly blossom into something. How dare he do this! Who did he think he was dealing with? I watched as he turned, walking them back through the gate and down the stairs that lead to his home. I sat and raged, keeping everything internalized. Then it clicked, something literally just clicked inside me and I knew what I had to do.
My hands went into my bag, searching for the items that I knew she would need. First, the ruby red lipstick that she wore. I pulled down the sunshade and flipped back the mirror covering, taking my time to coat her lips properly. Then the dark smoky eyeliner and finally, the hair. I loosened the tie at the end of her braid, fingering the tight waves until they fell about her shoulders. I pulled at the warm woolen fabric until it slipped over her shoulders, and her heart necklace sat in its rightful place between her ample bosom.
Sexy B looked damn fine, now there was just one last thing to do. She picked up the phone and dialed the number she hated calling the most.
"Hello, Mother Masen? Edward and I would love to attend that Silent Auction this weekend, it's being held by the Doctor Cullen and his wife this year, isn't it?"
Watch out Jasper Whitlock, Sexy B is back and she won't be taking no for an answer.
Previous ~ Next
By miztrezboo80
Chapter: 13. Doctor Monroe
Genre: Twilight - Drama / Romance
Characters: Bella, Jasper
Rating: MA/NC17
Warnings: Strong Language, Sexual Content,
Status: Work In Progress
Beta'd By: Ilsuocantante
Summary: "Bella had the perfect life. The perfect husband to love, the perfect house, the perfect job.. everything perfect. Until one night the shutters came up and the perfect movie life she thought she was living came crashing down around her. Enter... The Sexy Bella.. After shenanigans in the tool shed go awry, Bella's forced into sex therapy with one hot looking doctor. But when he can't handle her, he calls the only person he knows who can ... A series of unusual sessions, admissions and out and out seduction become the norm for her Tuesday Appointments. But will Bella ever get any better? "
Banner By: Nostalgicmiss Disclaimer: All things Twilight not mine.. songs mentioned.. nah, I'm not that clever. Silly plot and situations, yeh, I'll claim that :D I'm being slightly naughty and posting this without Lester as she is in le Big APPLE with my BatGirl ... However, Russell has beta approved a go ahead and mischief, bendingmirrors and my twin have preread so without ANY further ado..
My Chemical Romance - I'm Not Okay (I Promise) ~ "What will it take to show you that it's not the life it seems?"
I yawned, stretching my arms slowly above my head, knocking into something that I was sure didn't belong to my bed frame. It was only when I opened my eyes to look did I remember.
I was at Jasper's. In Jasper's bed. After spending the night with him.
Flashes of the night before ran through my head. Me in the shower, my complete melt down. Jasper throwing a towel over my naked body.
I rolled over and squeezed my face into the pillow. Jasper had seen me naked! Normally, this would fulfill every one of Sexy Bella's dreams but not like this. Not with how I had lost it with the crying and the snot sobbing.
Oh, my god he had seen my face covered in snot! I moaned into the pillow, rolling it with me onto my back and pressing the soft cotton into my face. Wow, it even smelled like him. I was here, in Jasper Whitlock's bed, with my face pressed against his pillow, breathing in his scent like I was some trained sniffer dog looking for heroin at the airport. And the whole time, I wasn't turned on.
Huh. That'll be a first.
I reached my arm over to the other side of the bed. Nothing but cool sheets. Very soft cool sheets, so I gathered they must be a good thread count. Not as soft as ours at home, but Edward's mother picked those so I would hazard a guess that they would be nothing but the finest Egyptian cotton. I wouldn't know, I never made our bed. That was our housekeeper's job. The housekeeper his mother had hired because my cleaning skills hadn't been enough in the beginning. I hated her meddling in our new life together at the time, but later I welcomed not having to worry about anything outside of my own pleasure seeking.
I rolled again onto what I assumed was his side of the bed and again lost myself in the sweet and musky scent that was him. Was it weird that I was doing this after completely losing my shit the night before? Probably. It was the only way I knew how to deal. He obviously wasn't still in bed to talk to, and I vaguely remembered being held in his arms.
"You're not alone, Bella. I'm here with you."
He had been, too. If I closed my eyes once more and really concentrated, I could still feel his warmth surrounding me. His arms pulling me to his chest, the sound of his heartbeat under my ear. I could still feel how safe and wanted and protected that his actions and words provided. I'd never felt that before. Not even with Edward. He was never one for snuggling. It was either smothering me with half his body over mine and his head turned away, or lying all the way on the other side of the bed not even within arm's reach.
Edward claimed that he loved me; he claimed that he wanted me, needed me. Yet how did he ever show it? Buying me pretty things? Giving me access to his credit card? Making sure I never did without, but still leaving me with nothing that I truly wanted. I wanted to feel loved. I wanted to feel it deep down in my bones so that I never had to ask, I just knew. I don't know if I had that with him, or ever did.
Was my life up until now really such a farce?
I sighed deeply, breathing in that familiar and calming "Jasper" scent and realized that I had come here to purge my old life, get rid of the grief and blame that I had placed upon myself. To finally have answers to questions that I never knew I wanted answers to, and now I was here with even more.
And not a Jasper to be found.
I rolled back over, leaving Jasper's pillow back on the bed and opened my eyes. The sun was streaming in the window above the bed. Warm rays played over my newly revealed skin as I stripped the blankets back and let my body acclimate to the air in the room. I stretched my arms and legs out and relished the space around me. I don't know what it was, whether it was the weight of the past, actually letting everything out instead of keeping it buried, or just . . . being here that made me feel so free.
It was like with all the admissions, the guilt that I'd carried around for far too long was just. . . lifted off my shoulders. This cloak of emotional weight that had been blanketed over me, invisible to the naked eye was shifted - gone, poof. I breathed in deep, filling my lungs with precious oxygen and it felt as if I'd never actually done that before. That there were parts of my insides that had never actually experienced what it was like to be filled so fully with air. I smiled to myself, kicking my feet wildly in a scene which I'm sure if anyone was looking, was mildly reminiscent of Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman when she throws herself on the huge bed.
I wanted to do that, I wanted to scream as loud as possible that I finally felt again. There was this powerful surge of happiness pounding through my veins and making my whole body buzz with positivity. Maybe it was weird or wrong to act like this after such a huge expelling of my deep dark secrets. Yet I couldn't find any part of me that wanted to go backward. If this was what really opening myself up and reliving the hard parts was like, then I think I'd actually start participating more in our sessions.
Maybe I could figure out exactly who I was and what I wanted. Who I wanted . . . and as of right now, that person was Jasper.
I swung my legs over the side of his bed and padded quietly across the cool wood. Maybe he'd left me here on my own after I had fallen asleep. I knew that he'd held me for a long time, much longer than was probably appropriate and I knew that I hadn't let him go either. I needed his warmth, I needed his reassurance that he wouldn't let me go. Wouldn't leave me alone while everything I'd ever thought was true about myself slowly disappeared under the weight of his words. He had to have just gotten up, or slept on the couch once I was fast asleep. As much as I was attracted to Jasper - and I was so attracted to Jasper - I didn't want him to get into any trouble. I knew that being here, in his house, in his bed and. . .
. . . Holy shit, I was wearing his clothes.
I fingered the hem of the warm sweatshirt I was wearing, the material fairly faded and there were even a few holes along the seam. I let my head slip to the side, my nose nudging the fabric and selfishly breathed in the fabric softener and well, that Jasper smell that I apparently couldn't get enough of. I looked down at my legs, noticing the cute Snoopy boxer shorts he'd put me in. Flashes of him dressing me came back at the speed of light and I wondered when the hell I'd taken off the sleep pants I could now recall I had been wearing.
I walked back to my side of the bed, pushing the covers to the side until I found them tucked into the sheet where one of us had kicked the sheets down. I don't know why I was blushing as I pulled them back on, rerolling the legs up so my feet were on show again.
I could see him at my feet, his fingers gentle on my skin as he pulled the soft material up my legs and then folding it over my ankles. I could feel his gentle touch, his hands rubbing over my calves and outer thighs, trying to warm me up or stop the shakes that were involuntary by that stage. He cared so much. It was obvious in everything he had done for me.
Walking into the bathroom, I could see the wet towels strewn across the floor, no sign of my clothes, which was a little odd. Being in here, the tap still dripping in the shower brought another set of emotions from last night rushing back. Me on the floor in the corner of the shower stall, sobbing like a crazy person. Jasper pounding on the door for me to let him in. I ran my finger down the side of the doorframe, the splintered wood sharp under my touch as the door hung limply on one hinge.
He'd done that for me. He'd broken his own door just to make sure I was okay. I was so lost, so lost in my own world of pain that I hadn't even recognized the look on his face when he came in. Worry and concern painted his features in my mind and I again wondered if that was good doctor patient relations or perhaps something more. Maybe I was reading too much into what had occurred last night. Maybe the way he touched me, held me, was nothing but the soothing presence of the care giver he was.
Would he charge me for last night?
He'd looked after me, held me, dressed me even and never once could I recall him checking me out when I was naked. That was definitely something I wasn't used to. It wasn't like I thought he was oblivious to my charms, I knew that he'd been more than happy to stare at my tits before, but last night when I was unclothed and completely vulnerable and yet. . .
He hadn't even made an accidental brush over the girls when he pulled his hoodie around me. Was I losing my touch? Or had seeing me covered in snot and bawling my eyes out turned him completely off? Or was he just that good of a doctor?
Or was I still reading too much into the way he'd looked after me? Consoled me. Comforted and made me feel so safe.
Standing here, in his clothes, in his bathroom surrounded by his things was confusing. Thoughts of last night were still fresh in my mind. Talking about Dad and Marcus. How accountable I felt for their deaths, that just because of Edward's fucking Mother and my own desire to be better , I had forced them out of my home and basically thrown them into that tree, into harm's way. Jasper said that it wasn't my fault. That it was an accident.
I walked over to the mirror, leaning on the sink and staring at my reflection. Who was this person in front of me? The eyes I knew, they were my father's, dark brown irises framed by long lashes. The same plain-jane brown hair to match, only with a slight wave to it. The waves were the only part of me that was directly linked to my mother. Not that I really remembered her. I'd blocked a lot of Renee leaving us from my mind. Just the heated words and fights, the endless cacophony of sound that would radiate through my walls and have me sneaking along the roof to climb into Marcus' room, into his bed where he'd assure me that we'd be okay. That the yelling would soon stop and we'd be fine. That my mom, our mom, still loved me no matter what she said, no matter what she blamed me for.
Marcus always had a way to keep me on an even keel. Keep me believing in myself even when I was riding off the rails trying to keep up with everything that he did. Not even Marcus knew how low I had stooped back then. The meaningless sex I had with everyone on his football team, even the one gay guy in our school - just so he could say he'd at least tried. Anything to be popular like he was, to be noticed like he was. I'd idolized Marcus and so did half the town's population, and at least three quarters of Forks High. He was so sporty, and smart on top of that. He was the complete package of looks, brains and brawn.
And what was I?
I was just his kid sister, the girl with the braces and the greasy looking hair. Right up until my Junior Year, I was just a joke to all his friends. Then I'd spent the summer with my Aunt Carmen in New Mexico and everything changed. I had my braces taken off, I filled out and got a tan and had quite the interest from the local boys. By the time I got home, I was a completely different person. Mom's sister had taught me how to style my hair, how to accentuate my eyes just so with smoky shadow and even how to sway my hips when I walked.
Aunt Carmen was an old stage dancer - or whatever it was she decided to tell me instead of the fact that she actually had worked at a strip club for most of her teen years and ended up running a brothel - even when I was there and right up until the day she died, three years after my visit. That was the problem with me. I'd felt like I was poison to everyone I knew. Everyone I touched seemed to turn from shiny silver to antiquated brass as the acid of who I tried to be ate away at everything that was good. Everything that had ever meant anything to me was more or less destroyed by decisions I had made.
Yet I could still hear Jasper in the back of my mind, "Bella, none of these things are your fault." How could I believe in that? When all I'd known as the truth for so long was the exact opposite.
The high I'd been on since I'd woken was rapidly dissipating as the ramifications of last night dawned on me like the sun shining through the circular window pane. I watched as tears filled my eyes, spilling over my lids and slowly running down my cheeks. Confusion didn't even cover what I felt anymore. I was completely tangled in the web of my own making. A web that didn't seem to have a beginning or an end in sight. I was here, alone, with no one to help me out.
Where the hell was my Jasper?
I scrubbed at my eyes, wiping at the moist skin before turning the tap on and splashed the cold water onto my face. I looked a little better. I hadn't let myself get so worked up that my eyes were red, a little puffy maybe but that was all. It was time to find Jasper, time to figure out where to go from here and see what other tricks he had up his sleeve for "fixing" me. I looked around for my clothes, but still couldn't see them. Maybe he'd taken them downstairs to dry, where the hell would he dry anything on a houseboat was beyond me, but surely there had to be something machinery or otherwise on this little tug that would be able to do that.
I wandered out the adjoining door, pausing momentarily at his expansive closet. For a small boat, houseboat, or whatever the name was you called this thing he really did have a decent clothes space. I let my fingers run over his jackets and crisp business shirts. Then onto the multitude of vests and jeans that were hung with care. I tried not to count how many boots I could see lined up on the floor but there were less than I had thought there would be. His clothes weren't hung according to color and style, his shoes weren't sorted into work and going out. These weren't just things to him. I could tell that each boot, each belt buckle would have a story behind it. He didn't just view clothes as something of an accessory, something that said more about his status than who he actually was a person. No, these were an extension of his personality, of what made him . . . him.
It shouldn't surprise me to see more and more differences between how he and Edward viewed the world. With Edward, everything had its place. Everything could be answered by scientific or mathematical measures. Emotions were calculated to the very last degree. He would never have got in the shower with me. He would never have held me like for hours on end. He would never have dressed me. He definitely wouldn't have told me everything was going to be alright. He would have gone quiet, given me 'my space' and after we'd fallen asleep, it would never have been mentioned again.
He'd done exactly that when Marcus had died. He'd been there, he'd held me, yes, but it had been awkward. It was always awkward when it came to sharing feelings like that, especially when it came to comfort. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I'd never even seen his mother hug him, or touch his hand. She'd offer him her cheek, hell, she'd even offered me her cheek when we were at my father's funeral. The woman was colder than cold, ice queen was a name too warm even for her.
Damn it!
Fucking Edward was due home today! How the hell would I explain my absence over night if he tried to call. If he tried to call. I hadn't heard from him since he left, but then again, I hadn't really used my phone either. I'd been blocking everyone and everything that could possibly break into my little self made bubble of ignorance. Maybe he had called, maybe he did care?
Ha! I highly doubted it. Still, I couldn't stay here, I'd already imposed so much on Jasper. I wanted to talk more, I wanted to say thank you. I wanted to feel what I'd felt last night again. The touch and comfort that he seemed to be able to give me. I wanted to apologize for vomiting over his deck. Oh god, that was definitely something I had to apologize for. If I could manage to find him, that is, and I wouldn't be doing that by standing here in his closet.
I raced down the stairs as quietly and quickly as possible, looking and listening for any signs of life beyond my own, and finding none. He wasn't in the kitchen, he wasn't in the living area. I even opened up the little door to what was his office. Nothing. He was just . . . gone.
Walking back into the kitchen I could hear the buzzer going off on the dryer. It must have been beeping for a while because the clothes inside - my clothes inside - weren't even warm anymore. Maybe he'd put them in after leaving me in bed the night before? Did he sleep on the couch? I looked over from my position in the kitchen and didn't notice any blankets or anything like bed linen in the living room. Maybe he'd put it all away already?
That still didn't answer the question as to his whereabouts. Would he have just left me? It was the weekend, maybe he had something on and had to leave quickly. I looked around the kitchen for a note, he'd have to have left a note. I mean, I'd had what would most likely constitute as a complete breakdown the night before. He wouldn't just go.
Would he?
I checked the fridge, nothing. I looked over near the phone, nothing. I wandered around his living room and over near the front door where he had a bowl for his keys, which I know noted was empty.
Nothing.
So he had his keys, it was - I checked the time on his microwave - one pm. Maybe he'd gone to grab us lunch? Would he really have just left me, though? Wouldn't he want to discuss what was going on, talk about the night before? I walked back into the kitchen and picked up my pile of clothes from where I'd left them on the bench. He'd probably just ducked out for a moment. Otherwise, he would have left a note; he was just that type of guy. He wouldn't have left me here, all alone in his house. It wasn't his style.
I was just about to head back upstairs to get dressed when I heard my phone, well, my phone, not Sexy B's. That meant either Edward or Jasper. I raced back over to the lounge, finding my purse on the coffee table and grabbed out my phone. I didn't even bother to check who it was, just sliding it up to answer a little out of breath.
"Where are you?"
"I'm at the airport. Did you forget you were supposed to pick me up at noon today?"
Shit. Not Jasper.
A very pissed off sounding Edward. Well now, emotion, wasn't that a change.
"No. I mean yes I knew but I kind of forgot. I was with Jasper -"
Shit, shit, shit! Why did I say that!
I heard him sigh on the other side of the phone, his next words semi muffled from the loudspeaker announcing a flight arrival.
"I'm sorry, Edward? I missed that?"
"I said, don't worry about it, I can get a taxi home. Did you get that message from Mother about the Silent Auction next weekend?"
"No. I've been busy."
He sighed again and I could picture him running his hand through his hair like he always did when I frustrated him, or just anytime in general. "Isabella, you can't just avoid her all the time. She's done so much for us."
Of course, of course he'd take her side. Didn't he realize by now how much I hated going to these things? She'd show Edward off like the star that he was and I'd have to be all prim and fucking proper and play my good doctors wife role. It wasn't like I could even make these events fun anymore, now that Sexy B was supposedly behind closed doors, and shut up shop so to speak.
"Fine. I'll think about it."
"It's the hospital's biggest fundraiser for the year, Isabella. It wouldn't hurt for us to go together."
"I said I'll think about it, Edward." Why was he pushing this? I always went. I complained, but I always went.
"I just think..." he paused and the sounds around him of people rushing by were insistent in the background. "I missed you. I was hoping you would be here when I got off the plane."
Wow, way to make a girl feel the guilt.
"I'm not that far away, Edward. I can be there if you want to just wait a moment."
Why was I feeling like I had to apologize? He was the one who had left me and gone away even when he would have obviously seen that I was upset. It wasn't like I tended to bunker down in the house very often. Yet, this was his way and I knew it. Avoid the hard and difficult discussions and focus on anything else.
I shouldn't feel guilty. I shouldn't feel like I owed him something when I'd spent the night with Jasper, even if it was just talking - well, more like me blubbering and Jasper trying to keep me together - and I still had no idea where Jasper was.
"I'd like that," he said, sounding genuinely happy. I wonder what he'd feel like if I told him exactly how I'd spent my night.
Would he be happy that I'd finally gotten everything off my chest, discussed what had been plaguing me for weeks, let alone years to Jasper? Would he think he had finally gotten his money's worth out of my sessions with me having a break through like this? I had so much more to discuss with Jasper. I had a whole new appreciation for everything he had done to get me this far. I had a whole new appreciation for the man in general. On top of that, I had a list as long as my arm of new things that I wanted to ask, answers that I wanted - knew that he could help me find the answers to.
It would have to wait. Edward needed me and I felt slightly guilty about where I was standing, half dressed talking to him on the phone. I made my goodbyes, quickly pulled on my clean clothes, folding the makeshift pajamas that Jasper had loaned me and placing them on his bed. Wherever Jasper was, he was just going to have to understand that I had to leave. I knew he probably wanted to have some sort of debriefing or further discussion on what had happened last night, but I just didn't have the time, and I had no idea where he was or when he was going to come back. I wandered back downstairs and found a piece of paper and a pen. It wasn't that hard, they were both sitting by his house phone which made me a little peeved that he couldn't do me the same courtesy that I was about to do him.
Jasper,
I had to go pick up Edward from the airport.
I would have liked to talk some more, but you were nowhere to be found. Not even a note like I'm leaving you, right here on your counter.
Words can't express what last night meant for me. I just wish I could have seen you again this morning. Please call me when you get a chance. Maybe we can organize an earlier session or have coffee. Something?
Thank you for being there.
Bella.
I pulled on my shoes, a little more difficult to put back on considering I'd forgone the stockings, they didn't survive Jasper's washing machine all too well. Picking up my purse I heard the reminder on my other phone, Sexy B's phone going off. I forgot I even had that phone anymore, it had been such a long time since I'd had to use it. Which made me wonder, did I even need it?
Was I really anything like that woman anymore? Did I need to be her to have some sort of satisfaction in my life? Or could I finally find some balance between the two? Would I be able to just be me? Whenever it was that I figured out just who she was.
I did know one thing. I didn't want to go back to being Sexy B. I didn't want to hurt anyone in my life anymore. I didn't want to pretend to be something that I wasn't. I may not know exactly who I was yet, but I wasn't her anymore. I walked out the French doors and onto Jasper's deck. It took all of two seconds thought before I raised the phone in my fist and sent it flying into the sparkling blue waters and I felt. . . good. Great, even. The sun was shining. The birds were literally singing - albeit noisy water birds, but birds nonetheless - and I was on my way to finding out what I wanted and who I was.
All I needed now was Jasper.
A week had passed and I still hadn't heard from him.
I'd picked up Edward from the airport and he was his usual self. He was always tired after a long flight and being away. He'd kissed my cheek, and said nothing about my messy updo and wrinkled clothes. He never asked where I had been before coming to get him, and I never offered. I just didn't feel… right about saying that I'd spent the night with Jasper.
I knew he wasn't that keen on him, especially after the way I'd acted when I'd been out with Angela that night. He wasn't sure that Jasper was a right fit for me, medically. Even though I knew if I told him about what had happened, how I had remembered and begun to deal with my past that he would be ecstatic for me, I still kept it to myself.
Yet as the week went on and I didn't hear a word from Jasper, I started second guessing myself. I messaged, just to check in and that he did get my note. Nothing. I rang the office to speak to him, and that skanky receptionist kept saying he was unavailable. I accidentally drove past a few times, and his bike was never there. I started to feel like I did something wrong. I left him a note. I'd tried to call, I'd even gone about things through proper channels, just like he'd been asking me to.
So what the hell was this?
By the time Tuesday rolled around, I was past being worried that it was me who had caused whatever it was that made him avoid me. No, I was far more into the realm of fucking highly annoyed that he could just drop me like that. How could he think that not talking to me after the discussion that we'd had, my whole world crumbling down around me like it had that night, wouldn't deserve some type of communication between us afterward?
I liked to think that we'd built up some sort of relationship in the time I'd been seeing him. I liked to believe that he wouldn't just leave me hanging like this. But as every call went unanswered, every hour turned into a day and then another, it hurt. It was like my best friend was ignoring me. From having Jasper's ear virtually whenever I needed it to nothing, nada, zip was particularly hard. It wasn't like I had many friends. I checked in on Angela and apologized for my own selfishness. After I dropped around with another huge gift basket for her and baby Maggie and spent a few hours just listening to her talk, being the friend I should have been in the first place, I ended up leaving with our relationship still intact.
But Jasper was different. Yes, he was my doctor, but . . . I liked to think of him as more than that. It was probably all stupid and one sided, but he always seemed to know what I was thinking. When to push, when to stay silent, and damn it if he wasn't all sexy as fuck while he did it. He gave me those butterflies in my stomach like you so often hear about in movies and books, and as much as I could credit it to him actually paying attention to me after Edward was mostly so cold, there was something there.
So why was he ignoring me?
If he was sick, why didn't the receptionist say something. If he had some type of family drama occur, why didn't he just call or even text? Edward knew that something was up, I'd virtually ignored him since he came home, only answering his questions as briefly as possible. I'd even slept the few nights that he was home in the spare room, saying I'd fallen asleep in front of the TV and didn't want to wake him. It was something that I had done before so he never mentioned it. Then again, he never questioned how I'd been or if I'd finally talked to Jasper about my family. It was just another moment in my life that he'd decided to sweep under the carpet once that particular anniversary was over. Just like he had done every other year.
Needless to say, by the time our regular Tuesday appointment rolled around, I wasn't going to take "he was busy" or "he's not available" for an answer. I had my favorite pair of jeans on, my kick ass boots and a sweet cream sweater that covered my breasts for a change. I didn't want anything to be misconstrued when I talked to him today. I wanted to make sure he realized that I meant business. I wanted his help, his friendship, and I wasn't taking no for an answer.
The day was grey and on the verge of storming again as I drove to the clinic. It matched my tense mood perfectly as I headed inside the building, not even bothering to listen to the frizzy haired desk jockey as I walked toward Jasper's office. I pushed open the door, not really paying attention to what was in front of me. I knew Jasper's office like the back of my hand and I also knew that if I looked at him while I said what I had to say, I probably wouldn't make it through half of my speech.
"Alright, I'm here and I'm pissed off. If talking is what you want then talking is what you'll get because I'm damn tired of trying to ring you and getting nothing in return. A week of your avoidance has been more than enough, especially how you left things the last time I saw you so, what do you have to say for yourself!"
I finally took a deep breath and allowed myself to look over at his chair once I'd placed my bag on the table and my hands on my hips.
"Jasper?"
I asked noticing for the first time that he wasn't wearing his regular cowboy style boots today. Nor was he wearing his jeans. Or his usual vest and button shirt combo. If I wasn't mistaken, he'd not been wearing glasses the last time I saw him and he definitely didn't have brown eyes.
"You're not Jasper," I mumbled, falling back into my regular chair.
"No, ma'am. Doctor Munroe, at your service."
This 'Doctor Monroe' character smiled at me all slow and with that southern twang to his words and a crooked smile that vaguely reminded me of Edward. He had what one would call a kind face, all angular jaw and slightly crooked nose, warm brown eyes and wavy ash blond hair. In another life, another time, I would have found him sexy.
Now?
Nothing.
He wasn't my Jasper.
I could see his lips moving but my mind and ears were still blanking out everything but the swirl of emotions and questions running rampant in my head. Something about Doctor Whitlock attending to family business in the south. Something about Doctor Whitlock feeling that he would be a good fit for me. Something about Doctor Whitlock moving my case on. Something about how he was looking forward to working with me in the future.
Who the hell did he think he was?
Jasper just fucking moving me on without saying a word? Was that even fucking allowed? How dare he! How dare he help me with everything, get me to a place where I fucking threw away everything that was the old me and moved onto this, this fucking less than perfect doppelganger of Jasper. I mean, he was virtually the same as my Jasper, but with subtle differences. He was the Un-Jasper and he just wouldn't do.
No, I'd have to hear this from his own lips. There was no way that he would just up and leave me. Not after what we'd gone through together. Not after that night where I knew I felt something shift between us. We weren't just doctor and patient. We'd become something more. I couldn't be reading too much into it. I knew how I felt, at least I thought I did.
"Mrs. Masen? Would you like something to drink before we begin?"
I blinked hard trying to figure out just what the hell I could do next. The Un Jasper was staring at me, that concerned smile playing across his thin lips, and I knew I had no right but I hated him on sight. There was no way I was going to stay here. I had to know, I needed to see Jasper. Not some two cent knock off.
"No, look. I have to go. This isn't going to work for me."
I stood up and picked up my things, vaguely perceiving his monotonous drawl in the background to which I shook my head and headed back out the door. I didn't even bother to scowl like I usually did at the front desk bitch. I felt… strange.
I wanted to be angry at him for doing this. I wanted to be pissed off and I kind of was. However, I wanted to make sure he was alright. I knew from what Carlisle had told me that night at the bar that his biological father lived in the south. Had something horrible happened to his family? Was he okay? I wanted to offer my help. Offer my assistance in whatever form he deemed acceptable.
It had started to rain in the short time I'd been inside the clinic. I started the car and quickly made it out of the lot and onto the road without thinking twice. Maybe I could just check his mail for him, or see if he was home to offer my condolences or something. In truth, I had the car turned toward his boat house long before I could even rationalize any real reason why I needed to go to his house.
The rain only came down heavier the closer I got to the sound. I was a mess of emotions, wanting to see him there, not wanting to see him there. Wanting because then I could ask just what in the hell he thought he was doing ignoring me, ignoring the relationship of trust I thought we had built. Not wanting, because if he was there . . . it meant that he could have called, could have been in touch. I couldn't decide which I wanted more and as I pulled into the end of his street and parked my car, I just sat there with the engine off.
I tried to make myself open the door, and convinced myself I didn't have to until the rain lessened a little. I talked myself in and out of that car more times in the next ten minutes of sitting there than I had ever thought would be possible for such a small decision. He was either at his house. Or he wasn't. It was as simple as that. My hand twitched above the door handle, leaning in and moving out with each difference of decision made. Just as my fingertips finally touched the cool metal, a taxi - the only other form of transportation to pass since I arrived - pulled up in front of the gate that lead down to Jasper's house.
Maybe this was him? Maybe he'd arrived back and we could discuss the idiot replacement he thought would work for me. I couldn't help but smile as I thought about just seeing him again. The smile only widened as I spotted a familiar head of wheat blonde curls appear from behind the gate, the taxi pulled off just to the side enough so I could see. So he was home. Maybe this was part of his family that were the reason he was staying away? I felt almost rude, intruding on this moment but I couldn't look away either. I was just glad to see him. Obviously, it was someone he knew inside the cab with the way his face lit up and his arms shot out wide in front of him, not even caring to cover himself from the rain.
I stared through the rapidly fogging windscreen, the sound of the wipers swishing back and forth across the glass loud in the now silent car. The happiness I'd felt at seeing that he was here, was still around was short-lived the moment that tiny woman got out of the cab and hurled herself into his waiting arms. The rain poured down all over them, but they appeared not to care, her legs wrapped around his waist, his arms holding her tight.
Who was she? And more importantly, why was she all over my Jasper?
As the taxi pulled away, he turned them side on and I nearly vomited then and there in the car as his mouth was virtually plundered by hers. Stupid small, ebony haired nymph. Of course he would like them teeny and tiny. No wonder he had stared at my tits the way he did if he was only getting the barest of handfuls at home. Fuck him for playing the endless eye fuck with me. Fuck him for making me believe that he cared.
There was only one person I trusted. One person who I believed in and who I thought believed in me. Fuck him. Fuck him for thinking he could just dump me. Fuck him for what, being too in denial at what we had built up, outside of our so called professional relationship. Didn't he feel what I felt? It couldn't all have been in my head. I closed my eyes, leaning my head against the steering wheel and let myself remember.
I could still feel his body wrapped around mine in his bed. Still feel his lips upon my brow, whispering that he'd take care of me. Still feel his touch, his fingertips on my skin in reverence.
That wasn't how a doctor and patient acted.
That wasn't how 'friends' comforted each other.
No. This was. . . it had to be something more. And this, this had to be him ignoring it. Ignoring what we could be, what could possibly blossom into something. How dare he do this! Who did he think he was dealing with? I watched as he turned, walking them back through the gate and down the stairs that lead to his home. I sat and raged, keeping everything internalized. Then it clicked, something literally just clicked inside me and I knew what I had to do.
My hands went into my bag, searching for the items that I knew she would need. First, the ruby red lipstick that she wore. I pulled down the sunshade and flipped back the mirror covering, taking my time to coat her lips properly. Then the dark smoky eyeliner and finally, the hair. I loosened the tie at the end of her braid, fingering the tight waves until they fell about her shoulders. I pulled at the warm woolen fabric until it slipped over her shoulders, and her heart necklace sat in its rightful place between her ample bosom.
Sexy B looked damn fine, now there was just one last thing to do. She picked up the phone and dialed the number she hated calling the most.
"Hello, Mother Masen? Edward and I would love to attend that Silent Auction this weekend, it's being held by the Doctor Cullen and his wife this year, isn't it?"
Watch out Jasper Whitlock, Sexy B is back and she won't be taking no for an answer.
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