Window of the Soul

by Charlotte-xoxo

Entry for the Obsession Contest. Rosalie Hale King has been abused for years. Finally she finds something that she thinks she wants, something she obsesses over, but is it really what she wants or simply something that she thinks she wants. AUH. Very OOC.

Obsession One-Shot Contest

Title: Window to the Soul

Your pen name: Charlotte-xoxo

Characters: Rosalie/Emmett

Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, and I own nothing but the plotline.

Lyrics that inspired you:

Through this world I've stumbled
So many times betrayed
Trying to find an honest word to find
The truth enslaved
Oh you speak to me in riddles and
You speak to me in rhymes
My body aches to breathe your breath
Your words keep me alive…

…Into this night I wander
It's morning that I dread
Another day of knowing of
The path I fear to tread
Oh into the sea of waking dreams
I follow without pride
Nothing stands between us here
And I won't be denied

Possession – Sarah McLachlan

AN: Some reference to domestic violence. Please don't read if that might upset you.

He stepped towards her as she stood motionless beside the open window, facing away from him out into the early evening. The white drapes swirled gently around the girl's bare legs as the gentle wind filled them and made them billow effortlessly. She was dressed simply, in a form fitting pale pink negligee with long sleeves that fluttered along with the drapes. Her thick mahogany hair framed her face delicately, making her small porcelain features look even more beautiful. The last of the soft, afternoon sun shone down on her face, seemly causing it to glow from within. The man behind her, but now moving swiftly to her side, was just as beautiful as she was. He had messy bronze hair that had that tousled look that men try and fail to recreate in the salon or in front of a mirror. His skin was flawless, from the top of his head and disappearing below the waistband of his jeans, and just as pale as the girl's. His chest was bare, with toned, well-defined abdominal and pectoral muscles in perfect proportion to his tall, slim physique. They were both incredibly perfect, and looked as if they had stepped from the pages of a fashion magazine or a fairytale.

The man leant down and kissed her tenderly on the cheek, and she instinctively moved closer to him. Then she lifted her arm up, wrapping it around his neck to pull him even closer to her. They melded into each other and eventually their lips met in a fiery kiss. The passion and love that radiated out from the two of them was almost tangible, making the air around them thick and heavy with lust. They were so wrapped up in each other that they didn't even notice that someone was watching them, standing in the shadows between street lights down on the pavement below.

I sighed, tearing my eyes from the picture perfect love story playing out in the first floor window across the street from me, and began to walk away down the street. Unable to stop myself I glanced back one final time to the open window, and saw that the lovers had broken apart. The girl was now standing out on the small balcony, the man close behind her, gesturing out into the growing dark. Afraid that, despite taking care to stay in the shadows, she might have seen me, I sped up and began to sprint down the street. A few minutes later, the neat rows of terraces houses that had surrounded me began to spread out and expand, with the gardens and houses growing bigger in every step I took. I had now entered the more affluent end of town, and finally I stopped outside one of the largest domiciles for several miles. It looked pristine, with a ridiculously cliché white picket fence, over an acre of garden space for non-existent children… and it was home.

I gently pushed open the gate, my tall black heels clicking harshly on the cobble path that led up to the red door. Unlocking it, I stepped inside to be greeted with absolute silence. Not that I expected anything else, not here. My husband was probably passed out on a couch somewhere in his bedroom, or maybe even out with his friends getting drunk. It was actually quite a relief to not have him here when I got home from work, then I might have an hour or two of peace and quiet. I dropped my keys onto the coffee table in front of me, and then

"Where the fuck have you been." I spun around, my hand flying to my throat in alarm. I was obviously not as lucky as I thought. My husband looked furious, his eyes narrowed and his hands at his sides. I simply closed my eyes and relaxed as best I could, since I knew from extensive experience that it didn't hurt as much that way.

I heard the slap of his palm across my face first, followed almost instantly by a stinging pain that spread like a bloom across my cheek and under my hairline. I gasped in shock, despite the fact that I knew what to expect by now, and my head snapped to the side. The speed with which the room spun made my mind feel woozy and slightly dazed, so I squeezed my eyes shut tightly.

"Maybe this will teach you some manners," my husband spat, and I felt the tiny specks of saliva strike my face, each one an individual insult to add to the injuries that I would have tomorrow. I didn't think it was possible for me to hate Royce any more than I already did, but at that moment my skin just crawled in disgust as he struck me again and again. I pulled up all of the barriers in my fragile mind that I could manage, blocking out his drunken slurs and some of the pain. It afforded me just enough peace of mind to drag to the forefront of my mind the image of the window scene that I had witnessed just fifteen minutes ago.

The only difference to the beauty of the tiny pocket of sanity in a sea of pain and hate was that I had taken the place of the beautiful brunette. It was me that the bronzed-hair man kissed with such passion. It was my long, blonde hair that he stroked as he held me. It was my face that displayed such peace and happiness as I was wrapped in the strong, warm, safe arms of my lover. The intensity of the image overwhelmed me and I knew that I would never want anything in my life more than for it to be true, for that beautiful man to be mine.

Finally after what seemed like forever, although it was unlikely to have been more than a few minutes, the deluge of blows ended and silence fell. The image I had tethered myself to, like a life preserver to someone who was drowning, shattered abruptly and I realized that I was curled up on the floor. I could feel the pain now, scorching down my back, across my left forearm and on my face. It felt as though I had been run over by a train, or what I imagined that would feel like, but I was able to lift my undamaged arm to grip the handle of the door behind me and pull myself to my knees.

Praying to God that Royce was gone this time, I shuffled on my knees to face the door. Then, I gingerly lifted the other arm an inch or two, testing to see if it would be strong enough to support my weight. I would need both arms to pull myself to my feet, and I wasn't sure if I could do it. I sucked up a pained breath at the excruciating pain that shuddered through me at that tiny movement and lowered it again, just as quickly.

"That won't work, damn it," I scolded myself in a hoarse whisper. I hadn't noticed but I knew from the dry, sandpapery feel in my mouth that I must have been screaming again. Great! Royce hated it when I did that, wanting me to take the 'punishment' in silence. Punishment my ass; this was torture, and I didn't know how much more I could take.

Suddenly I heard it, faintly at first but getting louder by the second, screaming sirens racing down the street. "Shit," I mumbled, and crawled into the hall on all fours… well, three of the four, since my left arm was out of use. It was too much to hope that the sirens, and the 'helpful' people that would undoubtedly follow, were not for me. The sirens had come to a stop so close that I could hear the voices of the paramedics outside as they spoke with whichever well-meaning neighbor had sounded the alarm this time.

I hated when they did that, forcing me to lie to the emergency services, and I now had a large arsenal of excuses up my sleeve to cover for the mess and injury that I was unable to hide. The only problem was that I feared this time Royce had gone too far, rendering me unable to walk. I would have to try and placate them though, since the alternative wasn't a thought I wanted to consider. What might Royce do to me if he found out I had grassed him up. Shit!

"Hello. Is anyone there?" a male voice called through the front door. I sighed, and began my well practiced routine for the hundredth time. I didn't immediately recognize the voice, but I assumed that I would know the face when they opened the door. I had met the vast majority of the paramedics that operated in this area, through my plethora of 'tumbles' and 'slips'.

"Yeah, I'm here," I called reluctantly. I reached up with my good arm to see if I could reach the bolt on the door, but I just couldn't stretch far enough. This wouldn't go down well. Hatred and pain I could mask, but I broken door would be infinitely more difficult. "I can't reach the door though."

"Don't worry Miss," I heard him say, then he barked an order to someone else that I couldn't hear clearly. A moment later he spoke to me through the door again. "I need you to move as far back from the door as you can, then tell me when you're done." I complied silently, dragging my ass back until it hit the sofa in the living room.

"I'm clear," I called, and then I heard two loud bangs, one immediately after the other. After another long second, the entire door was pulled off of its now severed hinges and it disappeared into the blackness outside. Then two men, dressed in the standard paramedics uniform sprinted through the gap, and over to where I was slumped. One of them, a friendly fellow blonde who went by the name of Jasper, knelt beside my head and began to examine it thoroughly. I winced a few times before he finally took his hands away, and motioned to the other man to bring him the stretcher he carried.

As he moved, he caught my attention and I gasped. The bronze hair and powerful jaw were so distinctive that it was impossible for me not to recognize him. This was the man who I had seen through the open window on my way home from work, every evening for over a week. The same man who had haunted my dreams for almost as long, providing me with the strength to get up every morning with the promise of seeing him and fueling my obsession. Yes, it was an obsession; I obsessed over this man I didn't even know and now he was in my house and speaking to me. Hang on, he was speaking…

"What happened, Miss?" he asked, and his silky, sexy voice washed over me like a cloud of the sweetest perfume. I blinked to focus my thoughts and remove my mind from the gutter, and then panicked as I scrambled for an excuse. I drew a blank so I just went with my instinct, morphing my face into a confused pout which hurt my cheek more than I expected.

"I… I really don't remember," I stammered, glad that I took those acting classes at college. He seemed to buy it, and nodded. Then he and Jasper carefully maneuvered me into place on the stretcher. As they bent to pick up a side each, Jasper leant in and whispered to me, his words chilling me to the core.

"He really went for it this time, didn't he Rosalie?" The way he asked was questioning, but the tight smile on his all too familiar face told me that he was under no illusions. I had always suspected that a few of the paramedics knew more than they let on, but none of them had even been so blatant about it before. Jasper was obviously very observant, and that scared me. He could never know the truth; it was too dangerous for me to tell anyone, even the man whom I knew well enough for him to be a brother to me.

"I don't know what you mean Jasper," I replied calmly, or as calmly as I could whilst looking him directly in the eyes and willing him to drop it.

"Right," he muttered angrily, which confused me but before he could say anything else, my dream man spoke up.

"Hang on, you two know each other?" he asked, his brow furrowing and making his face look even more adorable. "How?"

"Yeah, Rosalie here has a history of being a tad clumsy," he said nonchalantly, and I could have hugged him had I not been strapped to a stretcher. Then, they both began to move me towards the hole where the door had been, and outside into the cold night air.

"Um, what about my door Jasper?" I asked, worried that my house was now vulnerable to even the most inexperienced of burglars. Royce would be even madder if anything got stolen, even the knick-knacks on the countertops in the kitchen.

"Somebody will stay until… he gets home," Jasper spoke the word 'he' like it was something disgusting on his tongue, and Mr. Dreamy looked startled at his fierce tone. Jasper had, knowing however much or little he knew, a hatred of Royce that threatened to rival mine, but had never shown it in the presence of anyone else before. He really was a nice guy, keeping his mouth shut when he needed to, but he seemed to be having a lapse today.

"Edward here is my brother," he said abruptly, almost as if he had felt my confusion and irritation at his attitude, and my brows shot up in surprise. They looked nothing alike, from the hair color to their vastly different builds, and it surprised me to consider the two of them brothers. "Adopted brother," he added in response to my wrinkling my nose, and I nodded. That made more sense, much more sense that biological brothers. "Edward, our older brother Emmett and I are all adopted."

"That's cool," I mused, considering just how small the world was and trying to imagine what this Emmett looked like, and then I was being hoisted into the waiting ambulance followed swiftly by Jasper and… Edward. I liked him even more, now that I had a name to put to the face. Pathetic, I knew, obsessing over someone I didn't know, but I couldn't help it. The idea of him wrapping his arms around me, kissing me like he did the brunette girl, it just gave me warm tingles all over my aching body. I wanted him, despite that fact that I shouldn't. He was taken and I was married, no matter how shitty that marriage had turned out to be.

I woke up alone, in a white hospital bed in a small private room. I vaguely remembered Jasper telling me that he was going to inject me with morphine, but I couldn't remember much after that. There were faint flickers of whispering voices, endless gray corridors with flashing white lights on the ceiling above my head, then nothing.

"I'm glad to see you're away, Mrs. King," I heard a voice say and jumped slightly when I realized that I was not alone. The man who must have been crouched somewhere at the end of my bed, presumably doing something medical with my charts, straightened up and I was delighted to see that it was Doctor Cullen. Carlisle Cullen was by far the nicest doctor, the nicest human being, I had ever had the pleasure of meeting, and he often treated me when Royce had been overenthusiastic and I'd had to stay in overnight at the hospital.

"Thanks Carlisle," I responded, flashing a brilliant smile at him and then wincing as my brain caught up with my actions. Bruised face, remember! I sobered up quickly, and asked the question that I knew he knew was coming. I asked it every time. "How bad is it?" He grimaced, and began to shake his head. "That bad, huh?" I joked, trying to lighten the mood, but he wasn't having it.

"Good God, Rosalie," he said seriously, not hint of the normal joviality in his voice. "You need to leave that man, before he kills you."

"I don't know what you mean, Doctor," I said, forcing my face to remain neutral. I desperately wanted to pour out my soul to the incredibly kind man, but unfortunately that would never be an option.

"Don't try to pull that crap with me, Rosalie. I know what he does to you," Carlisle fumed, the hatred and anger that he felt clear in his face. "Last time it was a concussion and a bruised shoulder, this time it's a broken arm, a badly bruised face and scarring to your back. What will it be next time? Your neck that gets broken?"

The tears sprang up in my eyes as I look down at the fuchsia pink cast on the lower half of my left arm, extending up above my elbow, and realized that he was right. Royce might try to kill me if I told anyone what he was doing to me, but I would end up dead for sure if I did nothing and let it go on. I spun the two equally terrifying scenarios through my mind, trying to work out the best course of action, and then looked up into the kind, amber eyes of my favorite doctor. I had no choice, I had to do something.

"Okay. I need help, Carlisle," I whispered, scared that somehow one of Royce's friends would hear me and tell him. Then he could come to the hospital and finish me off. "I'm scared, and he threatened to hurt me more if I said anything." I then proceeded to tell Carlisle everything, from meeting Royce in a bar in Louisiana, right up until the present day. I was visibly trembling by the time I had finished stammering out what I wanted to tell him, but Carlisle remained calm and collected throughout. His peaceful, contemplative façade almost cracked a few times when I told him about the intimate details of the violence Royce had inflicted over the years, and I saw him gasp involuntarily a few times when my story corroborated one of the numerous injuries he had witnessed, but otherwise he was silent.

"I will need a little time to process what you have told me, and to decide what to do. However, I guarantee that we will transfer you to a secure wing at the hospital, for your safety, and I would advise you to consider talking to one of our qualified councilors. I feel it could be beneficial for your self-confidence and, if you will agree, my son Emmett should be available." He paused and smiled warmly at me, before tapping the top of the clipboard he was holding with his right index finger. "Biased as I may be or not, he is one of the most talented young guidance councilors we employ here at the hospital and I know that you two would get on great." He turned to leave, but I called after him.

"Hang on, Carlisle. This wouldn't be the same Emmett who is the brother of Jasper, the paramedic, would it?" He stopped and turned back to look at me. I'm sure I looked in a right state, but he still smiled like there was not a huge bruise across my face and neck.

"They are both my sons, Rosalie. I should be surprised that you know Jasper so well, but somehow I'm not. As I recall, you've visited casualty quite a few times since he started to work here." I nodded thoughtfully, and Carlisle left me to ponder our conversation alone for a while. I did try hard to concentrate on my impending danger and on the councilor, but after a minute or so my mind inevitably began to wander back to the third brother, to Edward. Whilst I had never met Emmett, I was sure that he wouldn't be anywhere near as gorgeous or exciting as Edward, and I began to daydream happily about that window and of him.

"Excuse me, Miss King," yet another voice interrupted my glorious dream about Edward… Cullen, I guessed it would be. He had been kissing softly along my jaw, and neck, leaving me speechless and gasping for breath. It was divine! If his mouth was anywhere near as talented as my subconscious manifested it, he would truly be an amazing creature. Although the color of my hair flickered constantly from mahogany to blonde and back again, I was perfectly content in my little obsessive fantasy until I was rudely interrupted.

"What?" I asked groggily, opening one eye a crack to see you had just interrupted my happy time. "Who are you?" I could see, through the miniscule crack, a mile and a half of muscle in a pinstriped suit and no a lot else. The man, because the voice was obviously male, was clearly extremely tall and huge to boot.

"I'm Emmett Cullen, the guidance councilor. My father said that you might like to talk to me for a bit, and I thought that I would come and meet you incase you decided that you want to take him up on the sessions with me." My eyes snapped open at the mention of his name, and I shot up in bed. Again, I moved without thinking, and I let out a stifled scream as pain shot across my back and down my arm. Royce really had done me over good this time, and I was feeling the consequences now.

Seconds later, the man was right beside me, helping me with surprising care to reposition myself onto the thin mattress. Only once he was sure that I was comfortable, did he retreat to the hard plastic chair across from the bed.

"What did you do to yourself," he asked me a hushed voice, and then caught himself. "I… I mean if you want to tell me. You don't have to say anything. I'm sorry." He was gushing, clearly wishing his words back into his mouth, so I smiled infinitesimally and spared his the embarrassment. I was going to have to try and be honest after all; why not start now.

"My husband, um, well… you know," I trailed off pathetically, not really knowing how to describe my situation to someone I didn't know. I had found it easy to talk to Carlisle, him being familiar and all, but I knew nothing about this man other than what his brother and father had told me. He seemed nice, but I couldn't be sure.

"Oh my God," he finally spat, and when he made eye contact I could see that his eyes were black and horrified. At least it was clear that he knew what I meant. "How many times has this happened?" I paused, genuinely unsure of the exact number, and did a rough count in my head.

"Well, I've probably been into this hospital every month or so for the last two and a bit years," I said truthfully. It was probably more like every three weeks but I couldn't remember. "Could be more," I added. Emmett's face clouded over further, and I could see the anger that always showed on Jasper's face when he saw me reflected almost exactly on Emmett's own face. Obviously living together helps to develop some similarities, I thought. Then I decided to change the subject before the man beside me exploded with anger. "You look a lot like your brother you know."

"We aren't related," he said absently, still fuming, and then he realized what I had said and began to calm down slightly, mind now racing in a different direction entirely. "Wait, which one do you know?" I was momentarily confused by the oddly phrased question but finally figured that he must be talking about his brothers. It made sense.

"Both, but I was talking about Jasper." I clamped my mouth shut immediately after I spoke, scared that I had just said too much. Edward wouldn't know me at all, and I had just told Emmett that I knew him. The last thing I wanted was Edward to find out that I was a stalker who had watched him and his girlfriend… wife through the window of their house, more than once. He would place a restraining order on me, and then I would never again be able to fuel my fantasies. It was pretty much the only thing that I lived for now, since Royce and I were clearly not the perfect model couple anymore, and I dreaded the thought of it ending.

The more I thought of it, the more I wondered what it was that I was actually doing. It was obvious to me that I was falling in love with this man that I didn't know, and who was almost certainly unavailable. I had watched them together, and imagined myself in the girl's place. Did that make me a stalker? Probably. Did that make me mad? Quite possibly. What should I do? I had no idea.

Emmett and I talked for over three hours that first day, sharing information about each other's lives and getting to know each other. He seemed surprised that I was married, stating that I looked far too young. I explained that I had married very young, fresh from college, and had only been married for a year when Royce's true nature began to show through the perfection I had shrouded his in since high school. I told him how he had been my childhood sweetheart, and Emmett had in turn told me all about his family and friends. I learnt that he also had an adopted daughter Alice, and that Edward was indeed married, just like I had feared. His wife Bella sounded like a wonderful person, and Emmett had insisted that he bring them to meet me some time. He said that I was in need of a friend, and that had then led to the revelation that I hadn't had a real friend since high school. It came as a shock even to me but Royce simply hadn't allowed it, and I hadn't argued.

Finally he left, when I was so exhausted that I thought that I would pass out there and then. I buzzed for the nurse, and she helped me to change and use the bathroom before helping me back into bed. That night I had the dream about Edward and me again, and this time my hair stayed the same mahogany brown as I now knew Bella's was. No matter how much I willed it to return to blonde, it resisted, and that irritated me more than I cared to admit. However, I was clearly still me and so the night passed peacefully in a haze of Edward filled dreams.

The next day, Emmett and I discussed our religious beliefs and then our hobbies and interests. He arrived bright and early, staying almost all day, and then left when I felt tired again. He spoke briefly about his catholic upbringing, and then I found myself fascinated by the passion with which he described the amateur rugby team he belonged to. I knew very little about rugby, having never seen it played or met anyone else who played, so I listened avidly for over an hour as he explained the basics to me. I slowly began to realize that I love to watch his huge, powerful arms and hands move as he embellished all his sentences with gestures and air drawings. There was something so simple and relaxing about the action and it was wonderful to sit and watch. I then proceeded to tell him all about my love of cars and mechanics. He seemed extremely impressed when I shared that little tidbit of information, and I then of course had to elaborate and tell him everything. Finally he said he had to go, seconds after I began to yawn, but promised fervently that he would be back the next day with Alice and Bella who both were eager to meet Emmett's new friend.

That night, my dreams got even stranger, and this time I was a bystander again, watching the brunette woman and Edward kiss and make love to each other. I was, instead of being inside the room in his arms, outside in the cold and I didn't understand it. However, soon the morning came and with it so did Emmett.

One that third day I was finally introduced to the two women that I had heard so much about. Bella was beautiful, and almost painfully shy, and I liked her instantly. Talking to her made me feel awful about the fantasies that I had experienced involving Edward, and I felt almost relieved that I had not been the one indulging in him in my dream the night before. It seemed strange to feel such uncertainty and guilt, considering the fact that I had obsessed over this man for weeks, but I put it out of my mind for the moment.

Alice Cullen was a firecracker, and the most fun person I had ever met. She was literally bouncing with excitement from the second that Emmett showed her into my room and she had rushed over to hug me as best she could with the casts and bandages on. She chattered a mile a minute about everything that Emmett had told her about me and I enjoyed the insanity of the situation and all of the attention. She was like a little pixie, so full of energy, and it was so nice to be around someone who genuinely seemed to want to talk to me too. I never got that with Royce or any of his friends. They were either ogling my ass or drunk and passed out on the couch. It wasn't much of a life, now that I had time and space to think about it.

After about two hours of non-stop Alice fun time, Emmett took both of them to find the cafeteria and told me that he'd back alone to talk in a few minutes. I settled into the mattress to wait, feeling more loved and happy that I had for a long time. Alice had assured me every other word that she loved me, and that I was a wonderful person, and I was starting to believe it. Life was good!

"Well hello there, my darling." I smelt the booze moments before I heard the gruff, oily voice. He sounded like he had been drunk for some time, and I sat up quickly so I could see him, shrinking back against the headboard in fear when I did. Royce's eyes were bloodshot and bleary, but he walked straight towards me. He was drunk, but sober enough to know exactly what he was doing. If he was going to hurt… or kill me, he would be perfectly aware of it. It would be his choice, and I was terrified.

He stopped just inches from my bedside, and leant over me leering. His breath was disgusting and I couldn't breathe from the stench. I was suffocating in alcohol. Then, he drew his finger softly down the side of my face which was mostly free of bruises. I sighed in defeat, knowing what would come next, and then I closed my eyes.

"I promise you, baby," he whispered, and I could feel his thick, warm breath across my cheek. I shivered and instinctively flinched away from his, my skin crawling at the discomfort. He took a deep, deliberately slow breath to exacerbate my fear, before continuing to speak in that low threatening tone I knew so well. "This is going to hurt." Then he fell silent and I tensed, just waiting for the inevitable impact.

"Get the hell away from her, you bastard!" I heard Emmett's voice boom from somewhere near the door. My eyes snapped open to see him standing silhouetted in the open doorway, looking every inch of his six and a half feet. I sighed in relief and scooted across the bed towards the far wall, as far away from Royce as I could get. He had stood up straight and was now squaring up to Emmett. It was almost comical really, terrifying situation aside, to see the two of them pitted against each other. Emmett was a mountain of solid muscle, clad conservatively in a crisp dark grey suit, and Royce just wasn't comparable. He was swaying where he stood, dressed in a crumpled white button-down shirt and faded blue jeans. At one time in my life I might have considered him good looking, but now I could see his scrawny limbs and pallid complexion left a lot to be desired. Watching them was like seeing a tadpole going up against a great white, and I really didn't care anymore about him getting hurt. I just wanted him out of my life for ever.

"What did you just say to me?" Royce asked incredulously, as if he was shocked that Emmett would ask a question like that. Emmett simply cocked one eyebrow and stood his ground. Clearly he had come to the same conclusion I had, that Royce was seriously mentally impaired when he was drunk.

"I said… get the hell away from her," Emmett repeated slowly, like he was talking to a small child. Royce's face twisted in rage and hatred, the likes of which I had often seen when he had gotten particularly angry with me over something. I didn't think that Emmett knew who exactly Royce was at that moment, possibly explaining why Emmett wasn't being more aggressive, but Royce's next words removed any trace of doubt he might have had.

"I have every right to come in here and talk to my wife if I want to. Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do, asshole. I'll do what the hell ever I like, thank you very much." Royce broke off from his rant so that he could take an angry breath, and Emmett took the opportunity to interrupt. His mouth was set in a hard line and his eyes were jet black. His expression told me that he now knew exactly who and what Royce was, and therefore no longer had any reason to stay put.

"Yeah, no… from what I've heard you have absolutely no right whatsoever to be here, Mr. King." Emmett spat the words like they were a curse, the distain and disgust dripping off his tongue. "And now I think it's time that you left." He swept his hand out, but Royce ignored it and instead turned back towards me.

"Anyway, babe," he said, in what he must have thought was a sultry, sexy voice. Unfortunately for him, I had no time left for this piece of filth. It had taken everything I'd got to tell Carlisle about everything, and there was no way in hell that I was going back to that again. We were done. "Where were we?"

"We are nowhere, Royce," I said, my voice sounding much more confident than I felt. "We are done, and I want you to leave…now." I hesitated for a fraction of a second, and then I spoke the final word softly. I knew that I wanted him to leave, but now that I was asking I was afraid of the consequences. For all his many faults, Royce had supported me financially during our marriage. I wouldn't have had the money or chances to further my career without him, and I would most likely still be living with my parents right now. Despite everything that he had done, I owed him for a hell of a lot and I was now terrified of losing that safety net.

"Don't worry, Rosalie," Emmett said gently, breaking through the panic inside my mind. "I'll make sure you're okay, I promise." I smiled gratefully at him and he met my eyes steadily. I had no doubt that he meant what he said, knowing him to be one of the kindest, most wonderful man I had ever met.

"Oh, shut up," Royce hissed, having swaggered towards Emmett again. His confidence firmly back in place, he placed a finger in the centre of Emmett's chest and pushed hard. Emmett didn't even flinch at the jab, and instead looked at me with a questioning gaze. I nodded my head decisively, my mind now made up, and Emmett inclined his head almost imperceptibly in return. Then, he looked down at the finger on his chest, stepped back and swung a huge fist across his torso with all of his strength. It collided with the side of Royce's jaw with a loud crunch, and Royce staggered backwards from the momentum. He whimpered pathetically, not even bothering to fight back, and scurried from the room like the coward he was.

"And stay out," I heard Emmett mutter under his breath, and then I was laughing. The tears that had threatened to spill from me eyes before now rolled down my face freely as I giggled like a giddy schoolgirl.

"Thank you," I whispered after the laughter subsided, and Emmett slowly made his way over to my bedside.

"No problem," he said earnestly, and then he seemed to come to a decision about something and continued hurriedly. "I meant what I said, by the way, about making sure you're okay. My family and I will take care of you, if you will allow us too. Alice has fallen in love with you already, and Jasper and Carlisle have gotten to know you already. I… we would love for you to come and live with us, once you get discharged of course."

"What do you mean, you?" I asked, and my interest was suddenly piqued. I was a little put out that he hadn't mentioned Edward being accepting of me, but something else had quickly jumped to the forefront of my mind. He had, before hurriedly correcting himself, said 'I' and I was curious as to what he meant.

"Well," he said, more hesitant than I had ever seen him before. "Over the past week I have become quite…" He stopped, like he was unsure of the words he wanted to say. "I'm just going to come right out and say it, no matter what happens from now on. I think I'm in love with you, Rosalie, and I don't think I want you to disappear quite so soon."

I just sat there; stunned at the revelation he had just dropped. I didn't know what to say, and I couldn't make my mouth say anything at all. He stared at me hopefully for a moment, waiting for any kind of response, and then his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"I'm sorry," he said sadly, the embarrassment and rejection clear in his eyes. "I thought that, maybe, we had something there. Obviously I was wrong." Then he turned abruptly and practically ran out of the room. As he reached the door, he glanced back once more and whispered a hasty goodbye, and then he was gone.

A thousand thoughts flooded my mind in the seconds after he disappeared, swirling around inside my head and causing me to feel lightheaded. I didn't know what to think first. On the one hand, he was a really nice guy and I loved his company. On the other, I was in love with his brother wasn't I. Edward, the guy I had fantasized about for weeks, the man I dreamt about almost every night, was the one I wanted. Wasn't he? I just didn't know, and I was too tired to think through my jumbled psyche tonight. Like a coward I hunkered down into my pillow and forced myself to sleep, hoping to escape to my dreams instead of embrace my issues.

Unlike my dreams last night, I was firmly back in Edward's arms tonight. My hair was even blonde tonight, and didn't seem as though it was about to change any time soon. The feel of being back in his arms was like coming out of a desert and into a cool, air-conditioned room, the peace and contentedness it brought were enough to relax my tangled thoughts. I was firmly in love with Edward, despite any affection I might feel for Emmett, and that wasn't about to change.

Feeling bold, I did something I had never done before and turned around so I was looking directly at Edward. He bent his head to kiss me and I saw a flash of copper hair and emerald eyes before my own eyes fluttered shut. Then, so subtly that I almost didn't notice, the arms that held me became larger and stronger. The lips that were melded with mine became firmer, and a fraction fuller. I opened my eyes warily, not sure what was happening. For a moment I thought that I had woken up, when I saw Emmett's deep brown eyes gazing back at me. Then I realized that I was still in that little bedroom, with the open window onto the balcony and the white drapes swirling around my bare legs.

After a moment, the full force of my realization hit me and I sat up in my bed in the hospital room, a light sheen of sweat coating my trembling body. I finally knew the truth, and I had quite probably just made the biggest mistake of my life. I was wrong about everything, and I had been from the beginning. It wasn't Edward that I was obsessed with, but of the relationship that he shared with Bella… the love that he shared with Bella.

I had felt something special with Emmett, but because I had convinced myself that I was in love with his brother, I hadn't allowed myself to consider the possibility of anything more than friendship. Now though, I had blown my chance with him and he was gone. I had realized all too late that I had been horribly wrong about everything, and I didn't know what to do. So, I did the only thing that I could and I threw myself out of the bed.

I winced as my feet impacted with the floor, the collision jarring up into my back, but I hobbled towards the door regardless. I couldn't have been asleep more than an hour or two, and I could only hope that Carlisle or Jasper were still here. They had to be, and I was going to beg one of them to get Emmett to come back, so that I could make things right. I had already screwed everything up, so I figured that I as due a bit of good luck.

I staggered down the hall to the nurse's office, breathing heavily from the exertion. When the nurse on duty, who had been checking her emails online, saw me doubled over in the doorway, she hurried over and helped me to stand up.

"What's wrong Mrs. King?" she asked, clearly panicking and considering pressing my panic button, which was attached to my right wrist at present.

"I need to see Mr. Cullen; I need to speak to Emmett." I gasped, and she nodded in understanding. She probably thought that it was to do with Royce and my 'issues' but as long as it had the desired effect I didn't care. She could believe what she liked.

"I think he is still here," she said thoughtfully, and I sighed in relief. Maybe I would be able to talk directly to him, and clear this whole mess up. "I will call him for you right now. One moment." She picked up the phone on her desk and ran her free hand down a list of phone numbers on the wall. She finally reached the one she wanted, a cell phone number, and entered it carefully. I waited impatiently as she checked the digits twice before dialing, and then as she said patiently with it pressed to her ear. I need to talk to him urgently, dammit!

"Hello," she said when the person picked up the other end. "Sorry to bother you, but Mrs. King says that she needs to talk to you immediately." She listened for a moment, and then looked at me. "Can it wait?" she asked calmly, looking me up and down skeptically. I shook my head vigorously, and she nodded. "No, she seems pretty anxious that it is urgent," she said, talking again into the phone. Then, she replaced the phone onto the holder.

"Well?" I asked impatiently. I was worried that he wouldn't want to be disturbed by whoever she had called, and refuse to see me. I would never get the chance to tell him how I felt then, and everything would be a disaster. It had taken me this long to figure out the truth, and I wasn't about to let my own failings stop me from making the right choice.

"He's on his way up now, and he said that he would be here momentarily." I took the woman completely by surprise by jumping up from my seat by the door and hugging her tightly.

"Thank you, so much," I enthused, and she laughed.

"No problem," she said confusedly, echoing Emmett's words from earlier. The memory of him being so nonchalant after saving me made me tear up, and I began to cry softly. I didn't know, now, how the hell I could have been so stupid as to not realize just how brave and handsome and loving he was. I was a fool, and if I let him slip through my fingers I would never forgive myself.

"Rosalie, are you okay? Did your husband come back?" I heard Emmett's voice call out to me, concerned yet heavenly to my newly freed ears. His voice was gorgeous, and yet again I found myself wondering how I had missed that. Then he was beside me, wiping away the tears that were streaking down my pale face. He even loved me without any makeup on, I realized with horror, since I hadn't had access to any for almost a week. That only made the phenomenon even more unbelievable, and I knew then that I would always love him back.

Unable to say anything, I nodded and then threw myself into his arms. Our lips crashed together and I squeezed my eyes tightly shut. Pouring all of my emotion and desire and regret into that one, desperate kiss, I prayed with all my might that he would respond accordingly. Instead, he stood there motionless for a long, drawn out moment, with his large hands gripping my upper arms.

Finally, when I thought that my heart was about to shatter in half, he slowly uncurled his fingers from the top of my arms. I wasn't sure what he would do so I just waited, my lips still firmly pressed to his. Then, his hands slipped around my back and he pulled me gently towards him, taking care not to hurt my back. The selflessness and care in that small gesture caused my heart to soar, and I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him as tightly as I could. His tongue grazed my lower lip so gently that my brain melted. I moaned and complied, opening my mouth to deepen the kiss. I was completely engrossed in him and our mouths moving in perfect unison, that I almost forgot about the duty nurse until she cleared her throat noisily.

Emmett pulled away from the kiss because I couldn't bring myself too, and mumbled a hurried apology to the kind woman, and then led me out of the office and into a corridor nearby. There, he bent his head down to kiss me again but I held up a finger to his lips.

"Just one thing, before I let you carry on," I said quickly, eager for him to get on with carrying on. "I want to say that I'm sorry it took so long, but… I love you too." He looked at me dumbfounded for a split second, then burst into the hugest grin I had ever seen.

"I love you too, Rosalie," he replied, and then bent his head once more to reconnect his lips to mine.

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