Jasper/Angela
Summary:
Three and a half years after BD, the Cullens are picking up the pieces from a crushing loss. Angela Weber is in college when she runs into Jasper and Nessie. Can she, with kindness and compassion, heal the Cullens hurting the most? slowly Angela/Jasper
Yes, this is a Jasper Angela story, and it's pure brilliance! After a tragic twist of fate, Jasper finds himself face to face with Angela Weber. Can she help ease his pain? Will she help mend a broken family?
This story is heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. It's a story of healing and moving forward. Learning to let go of the past, but treasure its memories. Knowing when its time to move forward, and embrace the future.
This story is rated T, but believe me when I tell you that it's amazing!
From chapter 1:
"Hi, I'm Angela. Welcome to BookWorm," I said, reciting the words that I'd been trained to say.
"Can I help you find anything today?"
He was about to answer, to blow me off, I'm sure, when the little girl reached up and tugged on his arm. He quickly bent down so that she could whisper in his ear.
"We saw online that you have a rare book section," he said with a heartwarming smile at the girl, "but we can't seem to find it. Could you point us in the right direction, please?"
"It's a good thing I came over then," I said with a nervous laugh as my cheeks flushed; I had finally realized who he was. He was Jasper Hale, from my high school back in Forks. But it had only been four years since he'd graduated a year ahead of me and I was quite sure that he and Alice didn't have a daughter. "We do have a rare book section, but you have to be accompanied by an employee to look at it. Follow me?"
He scooped the little girl up and she perched on his hip with one white mitten covered hand on his shoulder. He followed me up the circular staircase in the center of the store.
"Did you want regular used, old books or first editions?" I asked as I desperately tried to figure out a way to ask him if he was who I thought he was.
"First editions, if you have them," he answered in a voice that seemed to have more of a Southern accent then I remembered, though I couldn't be totally sure that I'd ever actually heard him speak.
I led them down the short hallway and into a small room completely filled with first editions of the greatest works of literature in the world. "We'll have to search if you want something specific," I explained with a smile. "Marie, the owner, doesn't believe in organizing this room. But I do have a list of the inventory so it won't be a total wild goose chase."
The beautiful little girl with copper curls, warm brown eyes and pink cheeks was smiling happily as she looked around the room. "May I touch them?" she murmured solemnly in a musical voice. "I won't hurt them. I promise."
"Of course, cutie," I told her; I just knew that she would keep that promise.
"She loves books," he explained to me as she handed him her mittens and started trailing her tiny fingers along the spines of the books on the bottom shelves. "The older the better."
"We don't get many kids in here who want to look around this room," I laughed nervously.
"She's Christmas shopping," he told me. And then, as the ancient heating duct kicked into action in the ceiling, his entire body tensed. "I need to get some air. Can you watch her for a minute?"
Before I could answer, he was gone.
I heard the little girl sniffle a bit and then sigh.
I twisted my hands together. "That's a very pretty coat and beret, cutie," I said as I knelt on the floor near her. "You know my name is Angela. What's your name?"
"Nessie," she whispered shyly. "And thank you."
"You're very welcome, Nessie," I said with a smile. "Now, do you want me to help you look for a specific book?"
"Something in a different language than English," she whispered again. "The original language. Like War and Peace in Russian."
I couldn't believe that she was really that interested in Russian literature, but she was sad and he'd disappeared so I smiled and turned to a shelf. "I'll look at the top shelves and you look at the lower ones, okay?"
She nodded and immediately started looking through the lowest shelves.
I'd only been looking for a minute or so when I found a first edition copy of Wuthering Heights. "Do first editions of English books, in English, count?" I asked her.
"Maybe," she answered slowly. "What book?"
"Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte."
And then, to my horror, she started to cry. In seconds, she was crying so hard that she sat down in the middle of the floor and buried her face in her hands.
"Oh, cutie, I'm sorry," I spluttered, completely out of my element.
He was back then, sitting next to her at the same time as she climbed onto his lap and touched her hand to his cheek. Her sobs quickly turned to soft hiccups in his arms.
"I'm sorry," I blurt out. "I just asked her if she wanted a copy of …"
"Don't say it," he warned me with a tense smile. "She'll just start crying all over again. And don't apologize. You didn't know. She just has a very personal connection to that book."
~*~*~*~
I think it's easy to guess who the little girl is. So grab some tissues and enjoy this heartfelt story.
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