Standard disclaimers apply.
Carlisle's first – and subsequently last – attempt at matchmaking is nothing less than a disaster. He has dealt with two newborn vampires in his long existence, but neither Edward nor Esme were ever as volatile as Rosalie is. She is angry and bitter and doesn't want to be. So she argues with Edward, who is more impatient with her than he ever was with Esme. They fight about everything, from the kind of music they listen to, to the way the towels are arranged in the bathroom.
The only thing they do agree on, actually, is that Carlisle was absolutely insane to ever think that they would ever fall in love.
Rosalie is confined to their wooden cabin in upstate New York while she adjusts to her new life. Carlisle has taken some time off of work in order to help; Rosalie proves herself to be skilled at containing her bloodlust but not at controlling her temper. She is hostile at best toward everyone but Esme, and as the months pass and the two women grow closer, Edward and Carlisle understand why.
For the first six months, Edward considers his sister nothing more than a vain socialite. When she's not yelling, she's looking in the mirror. At first, Edward thinks she's looking, waiting for something to change. It does, after all, take a while to get used to having an unchanging face. But then he pays more attention, listens to her thoughts: she finds herself beautiful and so she spends time staring at her reflection. She is shallow and Edward can't imagine ever loving her as anything more than a sister, if he can even get that far.
Her thoughts are dark and filled with images that he'd never be able to drive away from his mind. While Edward's memories of humanity are fleeting, Rosalie's are almost as clear as day. After a while, she learns to block him almost completely; it's almost unnerving to Edward, who has never encountered an almost-silent mind.
Edward overhears her talking to Esme one night – the two women have formed a strong kinship and Edward knows that Esme is secretly aching to be able to tell Rosalie that she thinks of her as a daughter, but does not want to overstep her boundaries. Edward is surprised to discover that they are talking about him.
"It's such an invasion," Rosalie says. "My body, my life, now my mind? Will it ever end?"
"And it's just as much as an invasion for Edward," Esme replies gently. "Don't compare him to those horrible men. Edward didn't ask for this, he doesn't do it on purpose. He would never hurt you – or anyone for that matter – like that."
Rosalie sighs. "I know that. But it just feels the same. That's why I've been learning to stop him. Maybe one day it won't bother me so much, but for now… I can't have him in my mind. I'm working too hard to get Royce out to have Edward in there."
Edward feels bad, sympathizes, pities, but his opinion of Rosalie is still unwavering. It's not until she has been with them for just less than a year that Edward begins to think that there's more to his sister than the scattered thoughts that he picks up.
On the anniversary of the death of Esme's son, there is a vase of white gardenias on the table. A piece of paper is next to the vase. Edward picks it up and reads: To my mother. Love, your daughter.
In the Cullen house, it is a day that passes quietly. When Edward was away, he always sent a letter, telling Esme that he missed her and loved her and was thinking about her. Carlisle usually takes the day off of work and spends it with his wife. Although it's been over ten years, Esme still grieves for the baby she's lost. Edward supposes that Rosalie, who still mourns the life she could have had, understands Esme better than the two men in the house.
This is the first time that Rosalie refers to Esme as her mother.
When Rosalie is strong enough to be around humans again, they move to a small town in northern Maine. She is tired of being cooped up in the house, constantly watched, and Edward can hardly blame her. He remembers all too well the days of staring out the windows and wishing to be able to walk freely.
Edward accompanies her into town and they window shop. She seems content to finally be in the open air during the day; she has been hunting solely under nightfall. They are passing the market when they see a young woman pushing a pram. She stops to look at a barrel of apples and Edward feels Rosalie tense up next to him.
Initially, he is afraid that she is losing control, that the bloodlust is winning. But then he hears her thoughts; for once, she is not blocking him. He sees a young boy with beautiful curls. Rosalie's fingers dig into Edward's arm and it takes him a moment to realize that she doesn't want to drain the baby dry.
In fact, she wants quite the opposite.
Later that evening, Edward walks passed Rosalie's bedroom to find her sobbing into Esme's arms. Again, her thoughts are open to him and he wishes with all of his might that he can walk away from the images in Rosalie's head: her standing in the sunshine with a swollen belly, her pushing a pram in front of a market, her sitting in the grass with a book in her hands as she reads aloud to three small children.
It is at that moment that Edward truly begins to love his sister.
The next day, she knocks on his bedroom door, a wedding dress slung over her arm. "I need your help," she says.
