A/N: Hey everyone. So I started writing this story under a different account when I was in like, eighth grade but I wasn't really happy with it soooo I'm rewriting it and making some changes and posting it under this name. I know I kind of abandoned The Secret Life of Bella Swan for a while, and I do want to finish it eventually, but between university classes and work I just want to write to relieve stress and right now that means working on this instead. Thanks for understanding. Please read and review!
A sad presence loomed over the usually bustling Cullen household. The "children" were gone and Dr. Carlisle Cullen had refused to move from behind his desk the entire morning. Esme sat on the other side of the office door, wanting to comfort her husband while trying to give him the proper space to grieve. It was the second of March, and the birthday of his secret biological daughter. Only Esme knew of the little girl that had been the light of Carlisle's human life. And while his new family brought him unprecedented joy in his latest stage of life, those sapphire eyes had burned a hole in his heart from the moment Lucy was born.
Obviously she was long gone. It had been more than 350 years since the girl's birth and after searching for eras Carlisle was positive his daughter hadn't somehow been turned. It was for the best; he wouldn't want his angel damned to the same eternity he was, but still a small part of him had hoped. He'd tried to find closure in other ways. Trying to find who she'd married and if she had children or grandchildren, but it was as if her entire existence had been erased from history. There were no familial records and people from the town seemed to have never heard of a Lucy Cullen so all he had was her tiny, three-year-old smile and those bright blue eyes engraved into his mind. Carlisle had tried drawing Lucy and his previous wife, Irene, several times to have some sort of tangible memory of them, but even his sharp eyes and steady hand couldn't get Irene's hair the right shade of fiery red or the curls bouncy enough and no amount of blue pencils or paints could properly portray the depth of Lucy's young eyes.
You would assume 350 years would be plenty of time to bring closure to Carlisle's tortured soul, but apparently that was not the case and this day that should have been filled with light and joy was overwhelmingly dark. His temper was short and his usually selfless attitude was verging on cruel. Esme was understanding and the entire family was respectful of this day, even though they didn't understand the meaning behind it, but they avoided the house all the same.
His family. Carlisle pulled his head out of his hands long enough to look at the dozens of family photographs that were scattered around his office. Jasper giving Alice a piggy back ride, a photo from one of Emmett and Rosalie's many weddings, a candid from the family laughing around a bonfire. His eyes landed on one that included all of them, after Esme had insisted they have an actual portrait of them done. All of them standing side by side in the meadow by their most recent home with the familial love somehow seeping through the photograph and into his heart. The corner of his mouth twitched into a slight smile. He really was lucky, to have found such a perfectly weird group of people to call his family. Still, his heart was broken in the way only a devastated parent could understand.
A small, hesitant knock came from the other side of the door before Esme opened it just a crack. "May I please come in?"
"Of course dear, I'm sorry" Carlisle said quickly. He knew she'd been waiting outside the door so she would be ready the moment he needed comfort.
"You have nothing to apologize for" she said almost sounding scolding, "I just wanted to check in on you. Make sure you're still breathing" she joked while lightly elbowing him.
Carlisle's mouth twitched slightly at the joke, but still couldn't bear a full smile. "I'm so sorry, Carlisle. I know what it was like to lose my child, I know your pain. I wish I could make it better, but I can't. Just know that I'm always here for you, all of us are."
"I know, love. I just can't help but wonder how she turned out. I used to pray every day that my father would never get his hands on her, but Irene couldn't have supported her without any other help and-" his breath hitched.
Esme laid a hand on his cheek and turned his face towards her. "I know." Was all she said before giving him a gentle kiss. "I know." She whispered again. She held her husband lovingly, willing her love to somehow go straight to his heart even though she knew that wasn't how grief worked.
She held him for hours while continuing to whisper words of kindness and comfort into his ear. The day would be coming to a close soon, and Carlisle's annual day of mourning would end. The Cullen children would come home and he would be reminded of how blessed he was in this second life. Things would be okay. Carlisle sent up a silent prayer to the Lord, for strength, for peace, for comfort that his wife and daughter were safe in heaven. He let out one more shaky breath, and then the digital clock on his desk turned to midnight. It was March 3rd.
