Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns the characters, I own the plot
CHAPTER ONE
"Alexandre Martin Swan," I scream. "I swear to God above; if you don't get your behind inside this house right now there will be no more TV or ice-cream, for the rest of your life."
I'm standing at the porch of my very lovely house. It's white, with a picket fence and just the fact that it has an actual porch makes me want to squeal in happiness.
My son runs up to me with muddy shoes and a toothless grin. "Sorry Mom," he says excitedly. He had always been one to love the rain and muddy weather. Sadly enough for his clothes and shoes, and his mother who has to clean all his clothes.
"And I won't live here for the rest of my life, so you can't decide that." His voice is mischievous, and I have to laugh. Though it scares me. I have a six year old son who already is losing his teeth and is fully aware that he one day will move out from under my caring wing. He might be ready to think about that, but I certainly am not.
"Alex, take your shoes of before you go into the house," I hear from behind me. His voice will never stop making me feel warm and fuzzy. My son murmurs a 'sure, pa' before I hear him running inside.
A hand snakes its way around my waist and I find myself pulled into his chest. He kisses my hair softly.
"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" he murmurs. Sounding so much like Alex, one could almost think that it was genetic. I see my husband and my son as the perfect example of genetics versus environment. I know Alex has learned the murmur from him.
"I'm fine," I answer, leaning into his chest and letting my head fall back onto his shoulder. I can always find the support I need in him. "You?"
He chuckles softly, and it makes me giggle. We always end up back there at least once in our conversations.
"I'm fine," he answers as well. Always repeating my answer to that question, I remember him once saying that whatever feeling you have, I share; if you're happy I am, if you're sad I am. "Your tense, Bells." His warm breath flows down my neck and he kisses that spot just below my ear that he knows makes me tell him whatever he wants.
"Work was stressful," I say. And I turn and look at him, gazing into his scorching blue eyes. God, how I love his eyes, I think. "But I'm better now, now that I'm home."
He smiles lazily at me, with the confidence that only a Texan can bear in a good way. Unable to resist myself I lean up and kiss his lips slowly, and then less so. Until this day he still makes me react the same way; I want more. Whenever I touch him, or am near him, I want more. And I know he feels the same, as he slides one arm around my back to pull me closer and the other holds the base of my neck to allow him to deepen the kiss.
All too soon he breaks away. "Alex is just inside," he says softly. And I nod. "Yes, yes he is."
"Do you need a moment?" Always the considering, gentleman. He never ceases to amaze me. Once again I nod. It takes a little while every day to rid myself of the things I see at my work and both my husband and son understands this need. He kisses me lightly once more before letting go of me.
"I love you," he whispers with a wink, and I smile. He always knows how to make me feel just a fragment better.
"I love you, too, Jasper," I answer honestly, and he turns and walks back into the house.
I stand back and gaze after him. As I said; he never ceases to amaze me. Since that first night in the hospital he has come so far. There are still holes in his memory, and when he is tired you can still see a slight limp in his right leg. But he has slowly, but surely worked his way back to the life that he dreamt about when he was young.
He remembers her now, Alice Brandon. It scares me, just a little. Deep down I know that I don't need to worry. We've fought over it before and hopefully never again. I can still remember his rage.
xXxXx
"Why is it so fucking hard to believe?"
I don't think I have ever seen Jasper lose his temper like this. Not this badly. It is almost scary.
"She left me, Bella. When I needed her the most, both physically and mentally. I needed her and she ran into hiding, with her tail between her legs. You're the one who saved me!"
I flinch at his anger. And when my eyes meet his I recoiled further. His usually warm and kind blue eyes were stone cold and filled with hatred.
"Jasper," I begin but he cuts me off with a hand-gesture. If you hate me now, I will die, I want to say. But it's his turn to speak, and it is only fair. I have said my share for this evening.
"Why won't you just let me love you?" he asks his voice now turned into a hoarse whisper from all the strain.
"That fucker Cullen fucked you over so much that you won't even let me love you. Do you even want me to, Isabella? Or do you still long for him. Is that why you question me so much?"
It feels as if he's slapped me. And to makes matters worse he leaves. Slamming the door behind him, leaving me to sob alone.
Alex is luckily with his grandparents this week. It's Monday.
By Thursday the pain of his absence is unbearable, and I need him home again. I know where to find him when he's like this, so I go there.
Sitting by the bar at 'Thomas' pub' is the man that all my happiness depends on. I walk up to him and sit on the free chair next to him.
"If you want out, Bella, you have to end it. I won't and you have to stop trying to make me. I want you, don't try and force me to mean anything else. You need to trust me. Please."
His voice is barely above a whisper, and I know his vocal chords probably still hurt from all the screaming he did.
"I love you, Jasper. Please come home."
It's all I have to say. It's all he needs to hear.
xXxXx
There is an unspoken agreement between us now: we never speak of them. And we try to refrain from thinking about them.
The one thing I hate the most is that his voice still gets tired. I was right back when I guessed that his voice was hurt forever. You have to know him well to hear it, but there is still a light rasp, constantly, unless he is working to keep it out. And when he speaks a lot it becomes more prominent, and it kills him. It's the one thing that still forces him to remember the accident.
My friends always say that he has such a sexy voice. "I just love that slight drawl and rasp he still has from his southern upbringing," they say. None of them know that the rasp is the one thing he hates about himself. I love him, no matter what, but it pains me to see him struggle with it. It pains me the way I can see his jaw tense when he starts to hurt, and how I can see the tired look in his eyes when he, once again, loses the battle against the rasp.
I turn and look out towards the yard again. It's raining, but it is just a light drizzle, and I sigh.
When Alex turned two I decided I needed a job. I had to do something with my days, seeing as Jasper was working and doing physiotherapy all the time and Alex was in kindergarten. The problem was of course that I had dropped out of school after high school, leaving me with no real education.
For weeks and weeks I searched, but no one would hire me, until a friend of mine told me about The Helping Hands-shelter. She said they needed hands, and I went there the day after. The next week I was hired.
The Helping Hands is an organization working with helping young girls, and mothers, who struggle with life. We don't ask why they are there, or how they ended up the way they did; we just help. And I love my job. It is fulfilling in so many ways, but some days we see things that make us wish we were working elsewhere. Some days I just need a moment to leave all the sorrow and pain at the front door of my home, making sure not to bring it into my own life.
After standing still, just breathing, for minute I let out a small sigh again, before I start turn around and walk back inside. In the hallway, as I bend down to take my shoes of, something catches my eye through the slightly open door. A familiar car, with a slightly familiar face in it. Quickly I push the door further open, but the car has gone. I shake my head and chuckle at myself. Paranoid much?
Walking into the kitchen I find Jasper and Alex playing with some LEGO at the kitchen-table, and smile.
"Who's hungry?"
xXxXx
I walk carefully down the stairs. It's an old house, with lots of personality and also lots of creaky steps in the stairs. Every night, after putting Alex to bed, I walk the stairs just that much more carefully. And then I make my way over to the couch and sit down beside Jasper, leaning into him and just existing with him. This evening routine is my favourite part of the day, allowing me to relax and just be.
On this particular night 'You've got mail' is on the screen and I can't help but smile. Jasper hates this movie, I love it. Every time he senses that my day has been rough he puts it on; just to please me.
I fall into him, letting my muscles relax at last, and Jasper kisses my neck. He lets small kisses rain over the scar I've got there. The scar I got from the hospital, and from scratching to profoundly at one spot without rest.
"What's wrong, darlin'?" he asks into my hair, as always sensing that I am not myself.
Sometimes I swore he could read my mind, but in reality he just knew me very well.
"I think I'm losing it, Jazz." My voice is raw, and suddenly I feel tears threaten to fall. "I'm just so tired, all the time lately, and today I could have sworn I saw him as well."
Underneath me Jasper tenses slightly, and I can't blame him.
It has been ages since we've spoken about Carlisle Cullen, and we have always avoided the topic when we knew Alex was in the house. I have now broken two of our most important unspoken agreements.
The thing is this: Jasper hates Carlisle Cullen, with a passion unlike anything. It's not strong dislike or loathing. It is pure, unadulterated hate, even more so then I feel. My feelings towards him have become more like apathy. But Jasper won't let it go.
And maybe he has all that more reason to. If anyone knows how much Carlisle Cullen broke me; it is Jasper. He was the one who picked up all the pieces and put me back together. He has seen pretty much every tear I have cried over the man, and he has helped me through every rough patch. Jasper has been my 'doctor', best-friend, saviour and more. And he has mended my broken heart; not for his own sake, but for my sake.
"It's probably just my mind playing tricks with me," I say, trying my best to rectify the situation. "Telling me to get some rest. Right?"
Jasper sighs, and I know that everything will be okay.
"Want to talk about it?" he whispers sweetly in my ears, and I shake my head vehemently.
"I just want to watch Kathleen fall in love." And I turn and give him a peck on the lips, earning me a glorious smile from him, and him tightening his arms around me.
xXxXx
"Angie, do you mind answering that phone?" I shout over my shoulder. It has been ringing off the hook all morning, and I have to get these papers finished.
"Sure thing, Bells!" I hear, before the ringing stops, and I hear her sweet voice go: "The Helping Hands-shelter, this is Angela Weber speaking, how may I help you?"
I smile to myself as I continue with the paperwork I'm doing at the front desk. It has been an extremely hectic morning, and I am grateful that I am not alone here today. Most Saturdays there is only one person working, but by a slip we are two here now.
Angela has been working here for two years longer than me; she has seen it all. And somehow she knows when to set herself up on extra weekend shifts, somehow sensing when the extra hands are going to be needed.
I hear the front door open, and footsteps walk towards the reception desk, and I look up just enough to see that it's a man standing in front of me. I put on a polite smile, and my 'at work with a costumer'-voice, and without looking up follow the script. "Welcome to The Helping Hands-shelter, Sir. How can I help you?"
My question is followed by a short silence, before I hear the voice that can make my back creep with dread.
"You can start by looking up at me, Isabella," Carlisle says, and I do as he says. There had never been a time where I could defy him; I would always, always do as he told me. Even now that I hadn't spoken to him in years, and felt, hopefully, nothing for him I still couldn't help it.
"And then you can tell me about my son, and let me see him."
I swallow hard, looking up at him. The moment I have dreaded Alex's entire life has arrived.
My eyes wander over the man before me. He is still every bit as handsome as he always was, with his chiselled jaw, kind gray eyes and blond hair. Somehow he can still take my breath away.
Something deep inside me flutters, and I have to ask myself: is this really dread, or is it what it always was? But I quickly shake the thought away; of course it is dread. He bears no power over me any longer, right?
"Angie, I'm going outside for a moment."
xXxXx
Outside the Phoenix-sun is burning hot. Yesterday had been one of the very few days with actual rain in this city. People are strolling slowly up and down the pavement, trying not to use too much energy. Every single one of them carrying a bottle of water with them.
To avoid looking at him I let my eyes wander meaninglessly around the street, while trying to conjure up one good reason for him to be here. I already have a thousand reasons to why I shouldn't care, or listen to anything he has to say.
"Isabella," his voice is soft and warm. Just as it always was. "Look at me, please."
I shake my head. He cannot order me around, not anymore. He has no right to show up here and demand things from me. After all; it was he who left us, not the other way around. It was his choice.
"I won't," I murmur. Mostly because I just need to defy him, and because words have left me.
My mind has gone completely blank, just as the day he left me. The only thought that is running around up there is nonononononononono. And so on; you get the picture.
"Please," his voice almost begging. My willpower lets me down again, as so many times before. When it comes to Carlisle Cullen I have no real control, so I lift my eyes and meet his.
"You look great," he says with a kind smile. The smile that I fell so hard for, back in the days when I was young and obviously very foolish. Within seconds my mind is flooded with memories of him, from the very beginning 'till the very end. Memories I thought I had left behind a long time ago, but that I now see with crystal-like clarity.
All of it ending in the horrible memory of the end.
xXxXx
My head is pounding. Why? I can't remember what has happened.
Let's roll over on my side; auch, that hurts. A whole fucking lot. Okay, I get it, bad fucking idea. Damn it, what's wrong with me. And what the hell is that horrible beeping sound. And God, that smell; a mix between blood and disinfectant. It reeks of sickness in here. And why is my neck so scratchy?
I open my eyes, and blink disoriented. Also, that light is horribly... well, horrible.
"Isabella, you're awake."
Ah, that voice. Like an angel saving me from the abyss. He is here, he is watching over me. Taking care of me; loving me.
I look towards the voice, and my eyes take a while to focus on what I see, but when they do I am eternally grateful. There he stands; just a glorious as he has always been and my heart skips a beat at the thought that he is mine. I try with a smile, and it's magically not painful, but he doesn't return it. He looks so sad, and I want to ask him what is wrong.
"You are both fine, Isabella," he says, reassuringly. But I am not reassured. He is using his doctor voice with me, why? He never uses his doctor voice with me.
"Carlisle," I start, but the look in his eyes stops me, and I realise what is about to happen.
"No," I say. "No, please don't. Don't leave me, Carlisle. Don't leave us." I sound just as desperate as I am.
"I have no choice," he answers dejectedly. And I shake my head as hard as I can possible manage without puking.
"Yes, you have." My voice has risen with at least one octave, if not two. "You have a choice. Chose me, chose us, Carlisle. We can be a family."
Somehow that was the wrong thing to say.
"I have a family Isabella," now his voice is even more the voice of the doctor. I don't want to hear it; I want the voice of the lover. "A wife and two sons."
"I can't do it without you!" I try, but I already know that I can't make him stay, no matter what.
"Yes, you can," and he is Carlisle again. Dr. Cullen has gone. "You will be a great mother, Isabella. And you will do perfectly well. I can't leave her, I love her. Please understand."
"I need you, I love you. Carlisle, don't go."
"I have to."
"No, chose me."
"I can't stay any longer, Isabella. I have to go."
"Fine." It's like a switch has been flipped. My voice is hard, and cold. I am filled with so many emotions that they all mix into indifference. I realise that I need to protect myself, that I need to shut him out. "But if you go now I never want to see you again. I will not let you into his or hers life later on, Carlisle. It's right now that you make your choice. If you chose them you do not exist to us."
He leans down and kisses my forehead.
"Goodbye, Isabella." And with that he turns and leaves me.
It's not until he has gone that I notice the tears running down my cheeks, and now that I am aware that I'm crying I cannot stop.
xXxXx
"You can't see him," I say, my voice void of all emotion. "You made your choice years ago. Goodbye, Carlisle."
And with that I turn and walk back into the shelter, slamming the door behind me.
I don't notice that I am crying before Angela asks if I'm okay.
"I'm fine."
A/N
Don't hate me. And let me say that if cheating is a hard limit for you then you should just stop now, because this story will contain Carlisle cheating on Esme. As you have already seen in this chapter.
You've got Mil with Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan. Great lovestory, if you haven't seen then run along and do it. If you're a guy, well, you might not enjoy it quite as much as I do, but if you do: will you marry me?
Thanks for the reviews for the preface. Hope you enjoy this as well. I will try to respond to reviews from now on, as I greatly appreciate them!
And to all my lovely friends who support me in my decision to write this instead of composing string-quartets for homework: I love you all, from the bottom of my heart.
Changed update day to mondays, but as usual my chapters will probably be erratic, at best.
Oh, and sorry about the double mailalert-incident. Heh, had some trouble editing.
Love.