Charles walked side by side with Esme and opened the door for her as they entered the doctor's office.

What a show he puts on, Esme thought. Her husband played the part well publicly and no one would have guessed the monster that lived inside of him that appeared only behind closed doors.

"After you darling." He smiled and a woman greeted the two of them from behind the desk at the small office.

"Hello." She smiled.

Charles removed the had he had on and flashed a warm smile. "I'd just like to have my wife examined," he explained, "She slipped and fell on water that spilled and as you can see she hurt herself pretty badly."

"Oh, yes, I can see that." The woman glanced at the side of Esme's face.

"Silly me, I dropped a vase full of flowers." She shook her head and raised her hand, "I cut myself, also."

"We'll get you in right away. What are your names?"

"Esme Platt," Charles answered for her. "I'm here husband Charles."

The woman jotted the names down, as well as the scenario they'd played out.

"Thank you ma'am." Charles smiled and turned to Esme, "Will you be alright if I take a walk down to the store? If not I don't mind waiting or accompanying you into the room with the doctor."

Esme saw the look in his eye. He certainly wasn't asking. He was telling her he was leaving until she was finished.

"Of course." She placed a hand lovingly on his forearm. Pretending had become so natural that she didn't have to think about it anymore.

"You're sure?" Charles's charade was perfectly manicured.

"Yes, dear." Esme kissed him on the cheek. She knew what store he was going to; the one where he could replace the bottle of liquor he dropped the night before.

Charles winked and gave a wave to the woman working before slipping back out onto the sidewalk.

"I'll just tell Dr. Cullen you're here." The young woman disappeared and returned a moment later with a young, blonde doctor.

"Mrs. Platt?" the man asked, making Esme's eyes light up.

"Yes." She cleared her throat and extended a hand.

"I'm Dr. Cullen." He began to smile, but then noted the wound on her face. "You can come with me."

Esme nodded and followed him into a clean, white room with a chair perched in the center. She looked around.

"You can sit," he said, "Make yourself comfortable."

"Thank you."

Dr. Cullen reached out and gently touched the side of her face. "That's a pretty substantial injury you have Mrs. Platt."

"Esme," she said, attempting not to wince as his fingers touched the tender area around her eye.

"You slipped and fell?" he asked, looking her in the eye.

Esme cleared her throat, "That's right."

Dr. Cullen seemed to be asking her with his eyes if there was any more to the story.

Esme attempted not to let her eyes tear up. "I, uh, dropped a vase," she said quietly. "I slipped on the water."

"What did you hit your head on?"

She hesitated, not having covered that false detail with Charles. "Um..." she breathed in through her nose, "The kitchen table... the corner of it."

He didn't break eye contact and hesitated before he proceeded on with routine questions. "Do you have a headache?"

"A little," she admitted, "I didn't sleep well last night."

"I'm going to just clean out the wound," Dr. Cullen said, "There's a break in the skin. I don't want it to become infected."

"Okay."

He moved to a countertop filled with tools and other medical supplies and reached for rubbing alcohol and a gauze pad.

When he returned, Esme flinched when he brought his hands toward her face.

"I'm sorry," Dr. Cullen said, moving back a few inches.

Esme shook her head and tried to laugh, "No, don't be. I'm... I'm sorry. I don't know why I did that."

"I'm not going to hurt you," he assured her, and then hesitantly brought the gauze pad against her face.

"I know," Esme said quietly. Her eyes closed as his hand connected with the delicate area near her eye. Immediately she felt the sting of the alcohol but didn't show it.

"Is that alright? Dr. Cullen asked.

"Yes."

He gently moved the gauze around the area that was cut until he covered every inch.

Esme reopened her eyes as Dr. Cullen moved back. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome." He walked back toward the counter before reaching into a small freezer in the corner of the room.

She watched as he filled a small, white bag with ice.

"Here you go Mrs. Platt." He forced a smile.

"Esme." She smiled back and placed the bag against her face.

"Right." Dr. Cullen breathed in through his nose, "If you can keep ice on the area as much as you can until the swelling goes down. I wouldn't do it for longer than twenty minutes at a time. Twenty on, twenty off."

"Okay."

"May I see your hand?"

Esme looked at him out of her good eye and saw his hesitance again. She didn't immediately respond.

"I won't hurt you," he assured her again, "And if I do just tell me and I'll stop what I'm doing."

She managed a nod and held out her hand, watching as the doctor began to examine her palm. When he put a little pressure on the wounded area she winced, and he immediately released her.

"I'm sorry," Dr. Cullen said, "That hurt a lot?"

"Kind of." She sighed and looked down at the injured hand.

He brought his face downward and gently drew a finger over the open wound. "There is a small piece of glass still stuck in your hand."

Esme bit down on her lower lip. "Can you get it?"

Dr. Cullen nodded, "Yes. It's not going to be the most comfortable thing. Can you handle it?"

She nodded, "Yes."

He let her hand go for a moment and returned with tweezers and another pad coated in rubbing alcohol.

Dr. Cullen looked up and made eye contact with her again. "Five seconds of pain and this will be out of your hand." He raised his eyebrows again. "Are you ready?"

Esme swallowed, but knew she had experienced pain that was far worse. "I'm ready. Go ahead."

He returned his attention to her palm and placed the tweezers on the tip of exposed glass, pinching and pulling at the fragment before removing it completely from Esme's hand.

The technique hurt slightly, but she didn't wince.

Dr. Cullen lifted the small piece of glass in front of his eyes, and then smirked and allowed Esme to see it. "Not so bad, huh?"

She smiled at him, "Nope."

He reached for the gauze and lightly patted down the area. "Still okay?"

Esme nodded, "Yeah. Thank you Dr. Cullen."

He finished what he was doing and then came back with some white cloth to protect the area.

She watched as he wrapped her hand several times and bandaged it up. "Thank you," she repeated, "You're a nice man."

Dr. Cullen couldn't help but smile. "Thank you."

Esme sighed and removed the ice pack from her face.

He looked up at her when he was finished with the bandage. "Twenty minutes," he reminded her with a smile, though she knew he was serious.

"I know." Esme sighed again and nodded.

Dr. Cullen stared her a little more intently. "Make sure you're careful when handling vases in the future."

She lifted her eyes to meet his and felt her face sulk just slightly. A part of her wanted to tell him the truth, but she knew there would be consequences from Charles if she did. "Yeah, I will."

The two of them stared at one another for an extra few seconds before Dr. Cullen finally slid backwards a foot or two. "Please make sure you take care of yourself... Esme."

"I'll try." She breathed in heavily and then heard the voice of her husband coming from the front foyer of the building.

Dr. Cullen read the look of despair on her face and she could tell he wanted to ask questions regarding her injuries. Before he could, Esme stood up and faked a smile.

"I'll try to be such a klutz," she said, pretending to laugh.

He nodded and half-smiled, but looked almost as solemn as she did. "I'll walk you out."

Esme felt her stomach sink even more when Dr. Cullen opened the door to reveal Charles waiting by the front desk.

"There she is," he greeted, "Doc, did you get my lady patched up alright?"

"Good as new." Dr. Cullen informed him.

"Good to hear," Charles countered, extending a hand and pulling Esme toward him with the other.

Esme felt like a prisoner when he locked his arm with hers, pinning her next to him like she was his property.

Dr. Cullen shook his hand and made note to the way Charles had grabbed her and then looked the man in the eye. "She may need some rest when you get home. Ice for the eye every twenty minutes. I explained all of that to your wife." He reached in the pocket of his coat and handed over a bottle of rubbing alcohol. "You can use this for her hand and the eye."

"Will do, sir." Charles laughed out loud. "Yes, Esme can have two left feet at times." He glanced down at her with hard eyes to make sure she went along with their story.

"She told me," Dr. Cullen said with a nod, "She fell and hit her face on..." He squinted his eyes as if he didn't remember.

"Oh, um, one of the stools in our kitchen," Charles said, clearing his throat as he did. He then regained his charming smile.

Dr. Cullen made subtly eye contact with Esme, and she looked away knowing she had told him a slight variation to the story. At that moment she knew Dr. Cullen knew the truth, and he begged her with his eyes to come clean.

"Well, we should probably be going," Esme said, "Thank you very much Dr. Cullen for your help."

He nodded and Charles shook his hand another time. "Goodbye, doc."

Dr. Cullen nodded, "Take care."

Charles spun around, towing Esme with him and then walked toward the exit.

Esme looked over her shoulder and made eye contact once more with the doctor before her and Charles rounded out of the office and onto the sidewalk.