Blessings to Count
..OoO..
Hey everyone who's a fan of Twilight out there! I just felt the need to write a little one shot about Esme, just a non canon backstory I thought up this morning, since she doesn't get enough of the attention in the books and movies. I love her character and she's always the one who inspires me most to be a mom one day. Thanks for clicking on my story, I hope you enjoy!
I was always different from the others, the members of my eternal family. On the whole, they had experienced vastly different human lives than I. Jasper, the soldier, Rosalie, the poor little rich girl, Edward, adored son in Chicago. But me? I had never been easily labeled. You see, in my human life, I had a husband.
His name was Thomas Wilson. I didn't meet him in some ridiculous, romantic way. I was his son's teacher. Richard Wilson could never have been described as a good boy- even in second grade he was the subject of my secret despises. Whenever I tried to teach him anything, he would resort with bullheaded obnoxiousness, rather like Rosalie can do. He would simply refuse to do addition, alphabet recitation, all the things that I tried to teach him in 1919 schooling. He was simply incapable of cooperation, and I feared that he would never go anywhere. It was with that attitude that I met his father.
Conferences are ideas that have come to light only in recent years. In my time, I went to his house after school, following him home in a way that I thought was stealthy. After a coffee at the café across the street, I went to ring the doorbell. Vividly I remember the disapproval in the eyes of the housekeeper, something that did not go away even when I was the mistress of that household. Madame Mortel opened the door brusquely, and escorted me in suspiciously only when I stated my business there. And then Thomas was before me.
He was a handsome thirty-four year old, recently widowed, running a stock firm in the city. His son, he informed me that night, had rebelled against everything after his mother died. With a dinner invitation for that evening, I uncomfortably joined the pair, who sat across from one another, with me seated next to Thomas. Richard glared toward his father whenever he spoke to him, but saved the death rays for me. Even when Richard was politely asked to respect Miss Esme, he would simply sulk into the soup. And then it was Richard's bedtime, and I was acutely aware of my complete aloneness with his father. For an instant that felt like it stretched for years, we sat in silence. And then he began to speak.
" Esme-"
"Yes?" Damn, too eager.
"I, well…it's been hard since my wife died."
"I…I can imagine."
"I never thought that I would…be able to think of a woman again. But Esme, I'd like to know you".
"You-?"
"Meet me tomorrow, for lunch".
"I- I have class."
"Then that night?"
"I…suppose that would be…yes."
"Then, tomorrow".
That was the first night of many that we spent together. We married a year later, on April 3rd. I was twenty-five. He had always been perfectly kind, and oh, was he handsome! But this was only the side that I was supposed to see. I never understood that this was a façade, and that his son had a reason to resent his father. Thomas was married to his work, he loved his job. Even more than his child. His cruelties were subtle, well hidden beneath his lovely face. His kind words were a show for others. It took me many years after my death to realize that I had simply been a way to have a mother for his son, and an attractive wife for him. And before I could despair for only myself and my new step-son, I was pregnant.
For seven months I carried my baby with a sadness for his father burning within me, competing with the fierce love that I had for my unborn child. That baby was my survival mechanism, the reason to keep on going. And then he was born eight weeks early, so small and tiny and breakable. I'd longed to mother anyone, everyone, and yet I couldn't hold my own son. He was too small, and medicine was not advanced enough to save him. He died three days after he was born. And two days after that, only after I had arranged the funeral, I found the cliff that I intended to use to put myself in the ground beside him.
"And so we come full circle, Bella."
Bella looked up, her brown eyes filled with tears. "But why?"
"He was all that I had, all that I wanted. I didn't love my husband, and his child didn't love me. And so I didn't want to be with them."
Bella smiled weakly. " But you have them now."
"That I do. My own extended family, my children. And you are one of them now, Bella. You'll be like us soon- and that's enough. I'm happy now."
Leaving Bella to ponder on how her new life would be, I walked to Carlisle's study. It was enough, I convinced myself. Enough for now, enough for eternity. And that was what we would all spend together.
I had my own blessings to count.
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