Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Saga.

No copyright infringement intended.

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Carlisle listened to the footsteps in the hall, on their way downstairs; one so light and graceful, the other clumsy and loud. It was a wonder she didn't fall down the stairs and break her neck. They were laughing on their way down and it made Carlisle smile.

How many years had it been that he wished to hear Edward laugh so naturally?

Bella brought out a completely different side of Edward that it made Carlisle wonder if it was how he acted when he was human. He didn't know if Edward was stoic or open, what he did for fun besides playing piano. Carlisle saw him once, and that was on his deathbed.

The contrast between the two Edward's was startling. The boy he partially raised was tight-lipped and closed off to the world around him; he was only ever free at a piano bench but even then there was something aloof about him. He was free but the walls were still there. Carlisle still believed it was because Edward never felt comfortable with himself, that he wanted control yet couldn't make the sacrifice of opening up.

Now the walls were gone with Bella in his life. Now Edward smiled, now he laughed, now he was finally living. It was painful watching him slowly try to detach himself from the family and the world through the years. Even Esme had given up hope.

Carlisle understood Edward; it wasn't hard to see the exact conflict from the beginning. He thought Edward despised him for making the decision at first, and that was the reason Edward was treated delicately; a newborn's strength was unmatched. Someone made the decision for Carlisle, too. He didn't have a choice, and was warring with himself since Bella chose a vote about her humanity, what he would have done if he had had that choice.

He was almost certain what he would have said. He was a well-bred, God-fearing man. Vampires were evil creatures to that young Carlisle. Had he met the man who turned him, what would he think? He was possessed. He murdered innocent people.

Carlisle would refuse immortality.

He would never meet Edward and his mother, he would never find Rosalie, never share heart-warming conversations with young Esme, and never have the chance to save her. Emmett would die because of the bear, and Alice and Jasper . . . well, he wasn't sure about them. They would still find each other, but what if they returned together to fight wars?

Carlisle heard the shuffling sounds of the piano cover being pushed back and stopped his medical lecture. Not like he was paying attention. Hearing Edward play was exactly what he needed to take his mind off the drab thoughts.

Edward started with a rendition of what he called Bella's Lullaby; it was more gentle and upbeat than usual, a good sign. They talked of their plans for tomorrow—knowing it would be sunny, they would spend the weekend in the meadow—while he plucked notes.

A soft knock came from the door of Carlisle's study before Esme poked her head in, soft smile lighting up her face. He invited her to sit on the loveseat, setting the laptop on the floor.

"You're not down there to listen?" he asked with a smile.

"I can at least give them the illusion of privacy. How's the work coming?" she asked softly, snuggling up to him. He loved the feel of her in his arms he wondered how, for even a second, he could imagine a life without her.

"Not so good," he replied. "I can't seem to stay focused today."

"Perhaps you need to put it down and get out. Distraction is often the mind's way of telling the body it can't work at that time. You have been overworking yourself recently."

He chuckled. "Only because the interns need my help. I ask them to page me instead of my colleagues when they have a day off. I'm awake every hour of the day doing nothing when I'm not working; the humans need their sleep, I can spare time."

"Your kindness always surprises me, Carlisle. No human could have your level of benevolence."

"I can think of one."

Esme was quiet as she listened to the music floating up the stairs. There was a slight mistake that made her wonder if Bella tried playing, until Edward apologized.

"Your presence is intoxicating, your touch so distracting, I can barely concentrate," said Edward. The love in his voice was so thick it could suffocate.

"Sorry! I'll keep my hands to myself," Bella squeaked, probably blushing. "I won't interrupt you again."

He laughed. "Silly Bella." There was the unmistakable sound of a kiss before the music picked up again.

Esme smiled up at Carlisle. "He's gotten better, hasn't he?" she whispered.

Carlisle nodded, stroking her shoulder tenderly.

"Every time they are together you can see the bond they have, and the times they're apart their hearts reach out for the others."

"I think you've been reading too many romance novels," he chuckled.

She playfully smacked his chest. "You know I'm right. You see their hearts healing."

"I do. It's the power of true love; it can fix any broken heart."

"Without scarring?"

"I have a feeling this one will stitch them up and leave them unscathed."

"Are you hinting at something, Mr. Cullen?"

He grinned at her wide eyes. "Why yes I am, Mrs. Cullen, but it was told to me in confidence. I can't break that trust."

Carlisle knew Edward's plans to marry Bella. It wasn't even a week ago that he found Edward searching through what little family possessions he had, searching for his mother's ring. Edward came to him to talk, wondering about the time he knew he wanted to marry Esme, until he finally confessed. Bella would make a fine addition to the family, he already thought of her as a daughter. He just had to find the perfect wedding gift to not only welcome Bella, but express his thanks as well.

"I'm his mother," Esme was saying. "Why can't he tell me?"

"Perhaps the same reason he's keeping it secret from Alice. He doesn't want to make it into a big deal; he's stressed over the matter." He kissed the pout from her succulent lips. "He'll tell you when he's ready, don't worry, darling."

She hummed her approval of his consolation before replying. "Boys are such silly creatures. We need more women in this family."

"I agree wholeheartedly. Let's have four more!"

Esme giggled as Carlisle pushed her back onto the cushions, pinning her to work his lips over her neck, paying special attention to the scar that changed her life. He kissed her soundly before resting his head over her silent heart.

She held him to her chest as Chopin's Raindrop made its way up to the study. It was the perfect song for the moment; the house was peaceful without Emmett's loud video games or Alice singing about Bella's future. In that moment it was just Carlisle and Esme, and they were complete.

"Esme," Carlisle said quietly, "may I ask you something?"

"Anything," she answered, voice just as soft.

He stared at the spines of books on the wall, trying to find the right words. "You know how I believe God has a plan for everyone—that if one thread of fate is tampered with, someone connected would experience a different life. If I was never turned, how do you think our family would turn out?"

She was quiet as she mulled over the question. A life without Carlisle? A life with her human husband, Charles, being Esme Evenson forever?

"Would you still try to . . . kill yourself?"

"Yes, I believe I would. Charles abused me. I only married him to make my parents happy, although I only thought about that handsome doctor who healed my leg. Even if you didn't help me as a teenager, I still would have married Charles—for my parents. I would still become pregnant, and I would still run away. But I didn't want to die because of the way Charles treated me, I wanted it because of my baby. He was my everything. I lived for him, but I couldn't ask the same of him. Whichever way I look at it I see that I had to jump off that cliff, even if you weren't there to save me."

"I can't imagine a world without Esme Platt."

"I can't imagine a world with Esme Evenson. As for our children? I shudder to think what would happen to Alice without her visions of you to guide her, and Jasper would probably continue to fight and die. Rosalie and Emmett and Edward would be the same way."

"Perhaps not Emmett."

"Why not?"

"Rosalie wouldn't be there; he wouldn't hunt a bear without a reason. He went because it was God's will they meet. He would marry and have a healthy family."

"But you believe Edward wouldn't live."

"Yes, I believe that. An illness is unpredictable yet the Spanish Influenza was spreading quickly; I know his family would become infected. When I saw him he barely had a day left in him."

"Maybe it's like Rosalie and Emmett; without you, perhaps he had a chance."

He never thought of that. If Carlisle died when he was supposed to, would Edward's name be as famous as Debussy or Beethoven? Could he avoid the Spanish Influenza if Carlisle wasn't there?

Esme ran her fingers in his sandy blond hair as Clair de Lune started. "Without you, our children didn't have much of a chance. See, Carlisle? You're not as evil as you think. You saved so many good lives, troubled as they were. Because of your compassion they are now exceptional people. I think you're just too hard on yourself."

"What about Bella? What about the Quileutes? Without us, they would never have a reason to shift. Perhaps they wouldn't exist at all."

"Is this what you've been worrying about all day?" Esme sighed.

"Unfortunately."

"Well then, how about I put these fears to rest once and for all."

She pushed on his shoulders until he sat up. She held his hands and smiled at his kind face. "You have never killed, you always save. You are a man of unparalleled altruism, and you always put your family before yourself. You often tell me how you can't see a world that doesn't involve our family. That alone should be your answer." She ran her fingers gently over his eyelids, closing his eyes, and leaning in for a kiss, whispering against his lips, "Carlisle, sometimes the best choice, is having no choice at all."

And Carlisle never doubted his lover.