A/N: Dear readers, to those of you who have read my previous story about Alice and Jasper, "Visions of Love", welcome back! To my new readers, welcome to my story! I really enjoy writing origins stories so that you can kind of see how some of our favorite couples came to be. This one is a Carlisle/Esme story. How can you not love these two? So devoted to each other and their "adopted" children! Please, I really love to have your feedback so please, please review! I hope you enjoy…

Disclaimer: I have written this as a fan of Stephenie Meyer's work and do not claim any ownership to the characters of the Twilight Saga novels or anything Twilight-related. I only claim ownership to my own imaginings and unique plot points.

Whom I Love Alone

Chapter 1: Angel

Carlisle's POV

I'd never forgotten her scent. An intoxicating mixture of jasmine and lotus flower carried on a warm breeze. When I'd first encountered her scent, I hadn't encountered those lovely smells for over a hundred years, not since my first foray into the Far East as I'd satisfied my curiosity for the medicinal arts of ancient civilizations. But that had been different.

She was different. I knew that some humans' scents held greater appeal for our kind than others but it had not happened to me in all of my centuries of existence. I'd always prided myself on my ability to resist the siren's call of human blood. But now I could not help but be grateful that her leg break had not pierced the skin. I knew deep down inside that had her blood spilled, I would have been tempted far greater than ever before.

And she was so young. She couldn't have been over the age of sixteen. To have stolen her life or even to have condemned her to mine would have been a sin that could never be forgiven. To be so selfish…

There was no doubt I was lonely—that I longed for companionship that my existence made impossible. But no level of loneliness, no amount of intoxication that I felt from her scent, no matter how lovely she was with her heart-shaped face, caramel-colored hair that fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and her eyes that were the most bewitching hazel color, a perfect complement to her caramel hair and peaches and cream complexion. Not to mention an intriguing dimple that had peeked at me from the right side of her mouth as she'd smiled shyly down at me when I'd grasped her leg.

With a determination I had not had to use in quite some time, I steeled myself with every bit of self-control I could muster and quickly and efficiently finished the task at hand. And when I had finished, I'd felt an immense sense of accomplishment (and relief) that the worst thing about her physically was her splint.

She still breathed. And needed to. Blood still ran in her veins. Her heart still beat in her chest. And she would go on, mend, fall in love, marry her Prince Charming, and have lots of babies and a long life.

And I…I would go on as I always had. Surviving. Existing. Helping others as best I could, giving them a chance at a life I could only dream of. Lives filled with love, family.

And so with a twinge of regret, I'd sent her on her way that day and had only allowed her face to surface in my memories from time to time—particularly when reading sonnets and feeling a bit maudlin. This happened occasionally after a rousingly successful day at the hospital, driving home the fact that I could never have such a life with such a lovely creature.

I knew my son, Edward, with his unique gift of hearing other's thoughts, knew how I allowed myself to wallow in such thoughts on these few occasions. Luckily along with his powerful gift, he had the ability to never let one know that he knew all of their deepest secrets. He was a good companion and I couldn't have loved him more as a son if he'd been biologically mine.

And while I wish I could regret having finally given in to my loneliness, I did not. I had known I would not be able to resist Elizabeth Masen's last plea—that I could not let Edward Masen pass from this world with so much promise unfulfilled. And yes, the loneliness had become a keening ache—an emptiness I could no longer face for an eternity. But I had told myself, he would be the only one. That his companionship would be enough.

And it had been. Until that fateful December night when I was working the nightshift at the hospital. And her scent entered my life for the second time. Only this time it penetrated every molecule of my shocked being. She should have been hundreds of miles away, safely ensconced with a husband and children. Preparing for the upcoming holidays.

But I knew she was here. And as I followed her scent, I knew it was not good. Her scent was drawing me further and further into the depths of the hospital that few entered and even fewer still exited. The morgue.

No! This couldn't be! Her scent was as strong to me as it had been that day nearly ten years earlier when I'd mended her for a full and long life. How was that possible if death had claimed her? Then as I reached the door leading to the morgue, I heard it. The faintest glug of her beating heart. It was very weak. She did not have much time. If it had not been for my vampire hearing I would never have heard it so it did not surprise me that she had been brought here. She must have already been thought to be dead.

I slowly pushed the heavy swinging door open and glanced around the dimly lit room. No one was around. At this time of night there was no one usually on duty in the morgue. A night watchman would make rounds once an hour so I needed to work quickly.

I scanned the room and there she was. Her broken and battered body was lying on a metal table directly in front of me. I knew what I was going to do. It had probably been decided for me ten years earlier, the first time I'd laid eyes on her. Resistance was futile. I couldn't let her die. Her heart was slowing so I had no time to spare.

I was beside her in an instant. Her head was tilted at an odd angle. What had happened to her? A fall down the stairs? At this point it didn't matter. I brought my hand up and cupped her cheek, caressing the silky skin. She moaned softly. I leaned in and allowed myself only the briefest inhale of her scent. I had to keep my control to ensure her change and not hasten her death which was certainly close.

"Easy, my angel, I will make the pain go away. Have faith." And then the deed was done. I could only pray that when she finally awoke from the death of her human life that she would not hate me too much for bringing her into an eternal existence. A vampire's existence.

Esme's POV

Death was excruciatingly painful. I'd expected it to be quick. I'd expected it to stop the pain. I'd thought I would just pass into blackness, nothingness. I'd long ago given up on believing in God. And if there was no God—there was no afterlife. No afterlife meant no heaven. If there was no heaven—then there was no hell. But if there was no hell, then why was I on fire?

Because I'd been wrong. So very very wrong. There was an afterlife. And the fleeting image I'd had of a glorious golden angel who'd looked strangely like the man who'd been my ideal since I'd been a silly girl of sixteen—had assured me that he was taking my pain away.

And then he'd plunged me into the bowels of hell. I was consumed with fire. Of course it was nothing less than I deserved considering my life had been one long failure. Failure to be a good daughter, a dutiful wife. A protective mother. And as a hazy image of my poor, poor baby who had never had a chance flitted across my mind, my heart began to beat furiously within my chest. As if a hundred sparrows were trying to pound their way out.

My body contorted in agony. I tried to cry out buy my throat was as parched as a barren desert and no sound would escape. This was my punishment for abandoning my husband—even if he'd been evil…cruel. It was my punishment for not protecting my baby—allowing him to die. And most of all, I knew it was my punishment for committing suicide and breaking God's ultimate natural law.

Then just at that moment when I was sure I could not endure the pain one more second much less for an eternity, my heart stopped. The fire left my body. Strangely enough though, the fire did not leave my throat. My eyes which had seemed welded shut, slowly began to open.

Everything was in such focus—so clear—that I could see the dust motes floating through the air, the sunbeam they danced in, the tiny rainbows they were dancing in and out of in fascinating patterns.

And then I saw him. My guardian angel. I tried to conjure my most precious memory of him—tenderly gripping my calf and ankle, smiling reassuringly as he asked me where it hurt with a velvet voice that held a tinge of an English accent. It came but it was as if it were behind a gauzy veil. What on earth, heaven, or hell was going on?

I looked directly at the golden angel standing before me and it almost hurt. He was far more beautiful than a mere mortal man could possibly be so that confirmed my belief all those years ago. He was my guardian angel.

He smiled that same reassuring smile but there was a tension about him that I'd never seen before. As if he was ready to spring at me, pounce on me. I almost giggled hysterically at the thought but fought it down at the last moment. What was wrong? Oh, of course, I must look a fright. I somehow tore my gaze away from his and glanced around my surroundings.

Heaven was strange. I didn't expect it to look like a…a…well, a gigantic library. But if I got to be with my angel, then I didn't mind what the surroundings looked like. Despite my delight at being reunited with my dear guardian angel, I could no longer ignore the scorch of burning flames that were engulfing my throat. My hand flew up and clutched at my neck as the horror rushed over me. I was not thirsting for the quenching relief of nice cool water. I wanted blood. Human blood.

I found my angel's face with my own panicked eyes. Oh God. I wasn't in heaven. I was in hell. That must mean that he was no guardian angel. He had to be Lucifer himself come to torment me for all of my sins.

And I had a lot of them. This was going to take a while. And it was nothing less than I deserved. I did not recognize the lilting voice that escaped my lips, but I knew it was me because it was my words that surrounded us.

"Go ahead. Do your worst. I'm just glad it was you sent to punish me." My shoulders sagged in defeat and I was looking down at my pale hands clasped tightly in my lap. His own lovely voice, ever so soft, pierced through the veil that had fallen over me.

"Punish you? No, my dear, you have it all wrong. I'm the one who should be punished. For now I've condemned you to an eternal life. Esme, angel, I don't know how else to say it. You are a vampire." My startled eyes flew to his. Rich, butterscotch eyes so full of compassion and concern as he stared down at me where I lay on a black leather couch. As I drowned in those eyes, I tried to comprehend what he said. But only one thought reverberated through my being.

Oh yes, I was definitely in hell.