"I think we all better sit down," Carlisle sighed deeply, worry casting a dark shadow across his gentle features.
This seemed like a particularly strange request as none of us needed to sit down, I mused as I sat between Edward and Renesmee, Jake on the other side of her with his arm slung casually around her shoulder. The other sofa's were taken by our siblings; Esme took a seat in the arm chair and Carlise perched on the arm besides her. Both looked extremely troubled. The concern on my face was mirrored by everyone else in the room. Jasper must be going insane.
"We haven't been entirely honest with you all," Carlisle started, seeming unsure, "about Esme's story."
We all knew what he meant by 'story'. The way Esme had become a vampire was one we all knew well. It was such a heartbreaking way to be forced into this life. The inability to have a child had also stolen her will to live.
"How do you mean?" Jasper asked, no doubt wanting the atmosphere to change around him.
"You saved her, didn't you?" Alice piped up.
"Oh yes," Carlisle agreed, "But that wasn't the first time we had met."
A brief silence captured the room.
"So you knew her before?"
"Yes, I was a patient of Carlisle's for over a year," Esme nodded. I noticed her eyes never lifted enough to meet anyone else's. It was almost like she was ashamed.
I felt Edward tense besides me, "How did I not know this?"
Carlisle's face was almost apologetic as he looked at his first son, "I was very careful with my thought's around you. I tried my hardest not to let Esme become part of consciousness. Our love was wrong."
"Wrong?" I asked, "How?"
1921
Esme Evenson sat waiting, her hands ringing tightly together as she took in her surroundings. Dr. Cullen's waiting room had not changed in the few months he had been her physician, yet the atmosphere forced her to search for something comforting, homely. She found nothing. It was a surgery. Sterilised. Lonely.
"Mrs Evenson," a wonderfully soft voice interrupted her search for comfort, "Would you like to come through."
Taking a deep steadying breath, Esme stood and walked into Carlisle's office. His boot-faced nurse stood in the corner, her permanent scowl not shifting as she eyed Esme. This room was much nicer, she thought. The furnishings were a dark mahogany, his wall lined with well-thumbed books. It was warm. Comfortable. Instantly, Esme relaxed into the soft leather chair that faced Dr. Cullen's own chair.
"I assume you would like the news," he smiled gently, shuffling his notes.
Sometimes Esme found it rather difficult to speak in Dr. Cullen's presence. His blonde hair shone in the soft lighting. His high cheek-bones were chiselled, his lips always turned slightly at the corner. And his eyes. They took Esme's breath away so frequently, she had made a conscious effort not to look in them very often. Their strange gold colour was so enthralling, Esme often (more often than was decent) found herself wondering why he was unmarried. How could someone so beautiful be unattatched. She sighed to herself.
Having barely found her voice, Esme nodded, "Please, Dr. Cullen,"
"Well, I am delighted to tell you, you're pregnant," he smiled.
Her breath caught for a second as a million different emotions flooded through her. Anxiety, fear and hope. Above all, hope. This was the fifth time she had heard this news, yet it had never become more than a dream to be snatched away from her. Five pregnancies and no children. It seemed to be her own personal curse at times. Retribution for a crime she had never committed.
"Oh, my," she whispered, allowing herself to look right into Dr. Cullen's eyes. As she failed to tear her eyes away, tears filled them. Her face was flushed with a joy she wasn't sure she was allowed to feel just yet.
"Now, Mrs Evenson," Carlisle forced a bigger smile. He wasn't particularly sure Esme should attempt to carry another child, her body clearly wasn't strong enough. But she wanted this so much, this he could see without a shadow of a doubt. And right now he was struggling to find something to distract him from the beautiful flush in her cheeks and her blue eyes, brimming with tears. He cleared his throat once more, "I am sure this warning is something you will be all too aware of, but I need to let you know there are risks. You need to be extremely careful. I recommend a lot of rest, no stress. You need to be extremely cautious."
Esme nodded, trying her best not to think of the stress that would be waiting for her at home. Her husband would be waiting for her. For just a second she faltered, her lip quivering slightly. She saw Dr. Cullen's face change slightly and her stomach clenched. I can't lie to him. Please, please don't ask me.
"Mrs Evenson," he started. He wasn't sure how to proceed but knew he had to. This beautiful woman couldn't be forced to endure any more pain, "Is there something wrong?"
She said nothing, just shaking her head, copper curls bobbing with each movement. For just a second Carlisle was entranced.
"Please, Esme. I know you want this child more than anything. If there is something that you need, or something that may be affecting your pregnancy, I'd like to help."
His eyes burned with such sincerity that Esme had to force herself not to leap into his lap and sob her heart out. Instead she let her head drop, the tears falling onto her clasped hands. She had not realised Dr Cullen had moved in front of her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"My husband," she managed to whisper. His abuse had become more frequent. He was rarely violent but the awful words he shouted at her almost every night now, may as well have been a knife stabbing her in the heart.
Carlisle shuddered slightly, barely thinking she would notice the unnatural cold of his hand. It painful to know someone with such a sweet nature was slowly having her soul damaged by some cruel lout. He had no right to be angry; he had no right to feel anything to this man. Yet he hated him.
The harsh glare Carlisle received from his Nurse forced to take a breath and move away from Esme slightly. "Just try to get as much rest as possible."
Wiping her eyes, Esme tried to steady her breathing, "Thank you Dr Cullen."
"You're Welcome, Mrs Evenson,"
Oh God. The pain was awful. The burning spread from her stomach, her screams echoed throughout the house. She rolled on her side, feeling a horrible wetness around her legs. And that was when she saw it. The Blood. Everywhere. And as her head throbbed, the scorching continued in her stomach.
"Mrs Evenson!" she heard the distant cry of her housekeeper, and she thanked God she wasn't alone in that moment. "Oh. I'll go and find the Doctor." She sounded so far away but Esme knew Mrs Bodkins was besides her. She was slowly losing consciousness.
It seemed like hours later when the darkness began to lift. "Esme?" the voice was urgent, almost panicked, "Esme can you hear me?"
His voice was clear and although Esme was almost fully consumed by the pain, his scent filled her lungs and she was able to breathe clearly for the first time in days, "Carlisle?"
"I'm here," he exhaled his relief, "Don't worry. I'm here."
And he was. No matter how much his throat burned, Carlisle was going to save her. He had told himself that had she been able wait for him, he would do everything to save her. Even the unthinkable. He was sure Edward would disapprove but there was no way he could allow Esme not to exist.
That evening, Esme woke, unsure of what had truly happened. She hoped against all hope that it had been a dream and an angel who looked remarkably like Carlisle Cullen. Yet as her eyes fluttered open, she knew the worst had happened. She took in her bedroom, the one she did not share with her husband, seeing her housekeeper, Mrs Bodkin pouring warm water into a bowl and the fire flickering in the grate. It held her for a moment, and the memory of the pain stung her.
"Esme?" a cautious murmur caught her attention. It wasn't a voice that belonged in her bedroom, yet she was relieved to hear him so close. Esme tried her best to move over, in order to glance at him. Her angel. However, as she shifted a pain tore straight through her.
"Please don't move," a hand rested on her shoulder and she welcomed his cool touch.
Carlisle was very aware how warm she was, more so than normal, and concluded the fever hadn't fully passed. She was so drawn she was almost as pale as he was, and her eyes lacked any life. This will kill her, he surmised sadly. He wasn't surprised that the pain clenched him so tightly he could barely breathe.
I love her. The thought flashed across his mind that he barely noticed for shock. Nearly three hundred years of wandering the earth alone and he had fallen in love with the beautifully frail human. Lord help me, he prayed silently as he watched Esme open her eyes once more, this time filled with tears of realisation.
"He's gone isn't he?" Esme whispered, trying to control the hysterics that were slowly but surely building inside. I can't do this, she thought to herself, not every time. I cannot have a child. The knowledge was the worst she could imagine. Her life was empty now.
"Yes," he paused, "I'm so sorry Esme."
She nodded but did not speak. A boy. She had always wanted a beautiful boy. A son to call her own. And now she couldn't have him. She would never be allowed to hold him. And then the tears came. All she wanted in that long never ending moment of emptiness was for Dr Cullen to take her in his arms and console her.
That was all Carlisle wanted to do. He couldn't though. It was wrong. She was a married woman and his patient. Worse, she was human. This could never be the right thing to do yet it pained him so much. Instead he sat gently on the side of the bed and rested his hand on her back. When she turned her head into his shoulder and cried he had to use every ounce of self control not to squeeze her tight to him and confess how he felt.
After a while, the crying subsided and everything was still. Neither had moved for such a long time, yet the silence was comforting to Esme. She knew that eventually Dr Cullen would have to go and she knew right then she would be heartbroken once more. As she leant on his hard shoulder she tried to remember his coolness, his scent, anything that would console her when she could no longer cope with the life she was forced to lead. That was the moment that Esme Evenson realised she was deeply in love with Carlisle Cullen.
She raised her head to look at him and was once again struck back by his eyes. It wasn't just the sheer beauty of them this time, but the pain in them. They mirrored her own and for just a second she pretended that he could feel the same way about her.
"I was going to call him Edward," Esme whispered, though she wasn't sure why.
Carlisle smiled softly, thinking about his own son, changed just three years ago, "That's a wonderful name."
"Thank you, Car...Dr Cullen."
"Please," he lifted a hand to her cheek and let it rest there for just a moment, "It's Carlisle. You're welcome Esme. I'm...very sorry. I shall return in the morning to check up on you." He turned then, asking Mrs Bodkin to get him if Esme's condition changed at all. With a gentle smile he turned back to Esme, "Good night."
"Goodnight, Carlisle," Esme breathed, holding his gaze for a fraction too long.
Then he was gone. Her head settled on the pillow, yet she could not drift into dreams. The pillow was too hot now. All she wanted was Carlisle's cold hand on her cheek. That was the first moment she had truly felt worth more than what she had been given in life. And she could never have it.
Over a month had passed. Carlisle had returned the next day, yet Esme had not seen him since. She was attended by another physician, only being told that Carlisle had left. She felt empty. There was nothing now...
"Esme?" a booming voice broke her thoughts, "Come here."
With a heavy sigh, she turned from gazing out of the window and tried to block Dr. Cullen from her thoughts. Her husband voice rung out again, louder and more impatient this time, and Esme flinched. At this hour her husband calling her could mean just one thing. It sickened her more and more each time he forced her to be intimate with him. What could she do? She was a wife.
"Yes Charles?"
Before she was barely in the room, she felt a great weight bare straight into her stomach, causing the bile to rise in her throat. The pain was something so familiar, something that hurt her more than anything. Crumbling to her knee's, she felt her vision blur as she chocked for breath. It wasn't coming quick enough. Each breath felt like she hadn't breathed at all, but the air would not go into her lungs quick enough.
Charles Evenson's face was right beside her own now, but she didn't look up. Esme knew if she did she would betray herself. She would not, could not cry in front of this man. She would not break down, because she had lost all hope of ever becoming a mother or seeing the man she shouldn't (although she truly did) love, once more. Esme knew she had to be brave now.
His voice came then, deep and snarling, "You are a harlot. You will not think of this man," her eyes shot up then, meeting his furious glare, "You are my wife."
He knew, she thought frantically trying to find the words to deny it. But she couldn't lie. Even now, as he stood over her, threatening her life with his animalistic rage, she could not bring the right words to lie.
Instead, Esme simply nodded. Silent tears streamed down her face now as she stared at the carpet. He left the room then. It seemed like an eternity before she could move from her spot on her hands and knees, but she eventually made it to her own rooms. The tremors that shook through her body did not stop for the rest of the evening and all her mind could do was pray that she would see Carlisle again.
Little did she know as she sat in silence, wishing for her life to end, her saviour sat in the huge oak tree adjacent to her window trying to figure out a way to save her. A way for them to be together. Carlisle loathed to be violent, yet had he experienced any less than the three hundred years of self control, he knew that Charles Evenson would no longer be alive. Instead, he concentrated on Esme, watching her stare dejectedly at her ceiling. Her eyes, beautifully blue, were glassy. Carlisle knew her mind was elsewhere. He prayed she was thinking of him too.
"How did you not kill him there and then?" Emmett asked, eyes wide and jaw slackened with disgust.
Carlisle laughed once, without humour, "You have no idea how hard I tried. I almost did. But I couldn't tear myself away from her again. I had spent a month away from her and it was impossible to be away from again. Especially when she looked so fragile, so broken."
Esme leaned her head back into his stomach, her eyes closing slightly and a small smile played on the corner of her lips. It seemed so entirely unnatural that they not be together. It was just...wrong. As she did this, Carlisle's hand stroked her hair behind her ear gently. I couldn't help smile softly at how perfect they were. They were part of the same piece. Without the other I knew that there were broken.
A tapping on the window roused Esme slightly from her comatose state. It took a while for her eyes to slide from the emptiness of her ceiling to the darkness that was the night outside her window. Her breath caught as she realised what was making the noise.
An angel.
Carlisle Cullen stood on the other side of the glass. It felt almost indestructible as her clumsy fingers struggled to open the window. Her heart hammered in her chest, pounding against her ribs as her eyes refused to break away from the stunningly hypnotic gold that was his eyes. It was taking too long. Her palms began to sweat as she struggled with the lock on the window still.
All the while, Carlisle stood, his eyes wide with wonder. Never had he felt such elation as he did the moment Esme managed to open the window and finally he was merely inches away from her. He could touch her, but he didn't. A wave of fear held him in position for just a second, as he watched her, scared she would run from him or scream. The fear of rejection almost forced Carlisle to run.
Esme had no such fear. She used all the terror she possibly could thinking about her empty, loveless, childless existence. Instead, she closed the gap between the two of them so quickly, her arms winding round Carlisle's neck, holding herself to him. She allowed herself to breathe as his arms wound gently round her waist and his mouth rested gently against her hair. This was right, she mused, this was how life should be.
They stood like that for a long while, Carlisle almost forgot Esme could not stay like that forever, no matter how much she may have liked too. He leaned back slightly to see her face and wiped away the silent tears that had been falling on his shirt.
"Hush, I'm here now, please don't cry," he pleaded.
She sniffed slightly, not looking away, "I'm so happy you came back. I thought I would never see you again."
"I tried to leave," he whispered, "I couldn't leave you. Not with him."
"He knows," Esme's eyes grew wider with terror. She couldn't lose him. Not when she had lost every other hope she had in life. All faith had almost been obliterated. Carlisle was that ray of sunshine breaking through the storm clouds.
She saw his eyes darken slightly, "I know. He hurt you."
It wasn't a question. Esme saw the anger bubbling just below the beautifully serene surface, and raised a hand to his face, "It doesn't matter..."
"It doesn't matter?" he stepped back slightly, glaring incredulously, "How can you say that. I saw what he did, I..."
"It doesn't matter," she interrupted him quickly, "because you are here. And that is more than I could possibly hope for."
Before she knew what had happened, she was on her bed, cradled gently in Carlisle's arms. The speed stunned her slightly, "What...?"
"There are a few things you don't know about me, Esme," he smiled slightly, yet his eyes were not laughing. They were filled with a regret that Esme could not understand.
"I knew it," she whispered, almost laughing at Carlisle's stunned expression, "I knew there was something magical about you."
He paused then, musing over the word. He had never considered himself magical. He knew Edward would entirely disagree. Edward thought they were monsters; Carlisle knew they weren't. They had just been tested in different ways to most people. But he knew they certainly were not magical.
"Not magical," he shook his head, "I have strengths that the average person doesn't have."
"Why?" she asked, her head burying deeper into his marble chest.
"I...I'm not," he took a deep steadying breath, preparing for the hysterics, "I'm not...human."
Although all his muscles were tensed, waiting for her to recoil in horror or...something but she stayed very still, "Not human?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"A...vampire."
Still he waited for her to cry out in disgust, struggle from his embrace. But Esme simply turned her face towards him and smiled, "Like Dracula?"
Carlisle didn't know whether to laugh or kiss her in that moment, the relief was so intense. He laughed. "Not quite," he whispered once his composure had been regained, "I find alternate ways, but the basics are still the same."
"Oh," her eyes were wide, but her smile still remained. She loved something that wasn't even of this world. It made sense to her. He was too perfect to be merely a human. Carlisle Cullen had always been something too special to be counted in the same category as her husband. The strangest thing was, Esme understood what her reaction was supposed to be. She knew that Carlisle was waiting for her to scream and cry and crumble away from him in this most surreal of all moments. But the love that filled her soul right now only seemed to grow.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, loosening his hold on her. The silence indicated him that the information was taking the natural reaction. He knew he had to leave now, yet he was stunted in place. He couldn't.
"No," she grabbed at him so quickly it took him by surprise, "Stay?"
She could feel her heart pulsing right through her entire being, unexpected tears stung her eyes as she imagined he may leave her, and her stomach clenched so tight she nearly doubled over in pain. Why would he leave? What had she done wrong. Her mind whirled as she looked up at Carlisle, not saying anything yet her eyes begging him to stay.
Another long steady breath escaped his lips as he gazed upon her. The tears in her eyes broke his heart and he cursed himself for being the cause. He knew he couldn't stay, or shouldn't and yet he understood that nothing could make him leave Esme. There was nothing on earth that could make him cause her pain. He would protect her from everything that may cause her harm. Everything.
"I love you," she finally whispered, blood rising in her cheeks. This was ridiculously surreal and yet it seemed like the most natural thing to say. Because it was the truth. Carlisle was the only person Esme could be herself with, say what her soul needed to say. No one else knew of her heart ache when she realised she could no longer have a child. And no one else knew the burning love she felt for this man.
Gently, very gently, Carlisle brought his hand to her cheek, feeling the warmth flush through them. If he were human he would be trembling now. She leaned into it, never breaking her eyes from his. It felt like an eternity but finally their lips met. Esme did not move, before she melted into his arms and kissing him with a passion she did not know she possessed.
In just a brief second, Carlisle felt something he had never known. Like his entire world had shifted. The change in him was so immense that he could not describe the emotion that rushed through him in that instance. Everything now was her. Everything in his life was Esme.