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Esme pov

Ten years ago I fell from a tree and broke my leg. My mother had scolded me for not acting ladylike. My father had agreed; Esme, how will you ever find yourself a husband with all of this childish behaviour, its time you grew up he had said to me. I didn't want to grow up and I certainly did not want to marry. My friends had already been married off, I didn't want to be a housewife just quite yet. Some of them had told me that marriage was not all roses, and that perfect men were not all that they seemed. That alone had seemed ominous enough to put me off marriage for a further few years.

The hospital, a relatively new building on the outskirts of town, had seemed a place full of misery and despair since the moment I had stepped inside. And the harsh antiseptic smell did nothing but make me sneeze. I remember sitting in the waiting room, my mother ignoring me, her pursed lips, showing just how disappointed she was with me, and my father, his constant frown and occasional shake of his head was no better.

It was a relief to be called through to see the Doctor. My parents leading the way, while I hobbled along behind, trying not to put any weight on my bad leg. I was cursing heavily under my breath about how none of them had bothered to help me walk along. I laughed lightly to myself about what they would say if they could hear some of the words I was using, they were definitely not lady-like!

I hopped up onto the bed like the nurse instructed and waited in silence for the doctor. The man that entered the room was like nothing I had expected. My normal doctor, was about 90 years old, had a mangled mess of grey hair, eyebrows and moustache so thick you could barely see his eyes or mouth. This man, Doctor, had the lightest blond hair you could imagine, hair that had reminded me of drops of pure sunlight. His face was beyond perfection, perfectly chiselled jawline, straight nose and beautiful lips. And the were smiling the most heavenly of smiles. I realised my mouth had been hanging open and quickly closed it, trying hard to suppress a giggle.

"Miss Platt" he greeted me formally and then acknowledged my parents "I'm Doctor Cullen, I'll be your temporary Doctor while Doctor Moore is on sick leave."

I couldn't stop staring at him. None of the men in town could even start to compare to this man. How on earth could I settle for marrying any of those now I had seen this Doctor! I could imagine myself standing next to him at the altar, white veil and billowing dress, how perfect would that be!

"Miss Platt" He interrupted my daydreaming and I burst into a fit of giggles "I was just saying that your x-rays have shown a break in two places, I'll cast it, but I'm afraid they'll be no more tree climbing for a while!" He smiled again and I swooned giggling happily. I had never seen someone so perfect. He hadn't sounded like he was chiding me for climbing trees in fact he had seemed mildly amused by the whole situation, maybe I could just about be lady enough for him.

Suddenly his hands were on my bare leg, electricity jolted through me like desire, I blushed as they lightly danced along my calf, feeling for the breaks. They swirled across my knees and up to my thigh, where the second fracture lay. His hands grazed a certain spot right above my knee, I was slightly more sensitive than normal and an outburst of laughter escaped from my mouth.

"I'm extremely ticklish" I explained blushing staring up at him from under my lashes

"Esme Platt!" My Fathers voice boomed through the room, I had completely forgotten that my Mother and Father were in the same room. For all I cared it was just me and him, no one else in the world existed in that moment. "Think about the way you are acting, you're being utterly absurd, an embarrassment to yourself, let alone this poor Doctor, trying to treat you, while you are acting like an immature child yet again! Will you ever learn to grow up!" he shouted at me

I bowed my head down and muttered an apology. I wasn't sorry, not at all. I snuck a glance at the Doctor, he was facing away from my parents and was grinning from ear to ear, he shot a wink my way.

"I think you're charming" he whispered. I knew he was only trying to cheer me up, but I was soaring. While he moulded the cast to my leg, I got lost in fantasies of me and him, I was being silly, I know that. He would have been much to old for me, not that he had looked it. But even though he had winked at me, I knew there was no way he would ever look at someone like me in that way at all, I was plain, completely average. Girls my age were busty and blonde. I was not busty, and definitely not blonde. I absolutely certain he had a wife and I imagined her to be just as beautiful, just as pure, as he was.

I imagined he would leave her, come and find me at home and whisk me away somewhere, somewhere that we could be together. My heart was beating erratically, so loudly I was sure he would be able to hear it. I wanted to talk to him, but I didn't dare say anything while my parents were eyeing me, still, with their disapproving eyes.

All to soon he was finished and I was free to go home. I didn't want to leave him. I felt like I could have stayed in his company forever.

He bade me farewell, our parting handshake sending shivers down my spine.

"I'll see you in six weeks for your consultation" he said "Try not to do anything else reckless, I don't want to have be fixing you up again."

My parents started to leave thanking him for his work and I followed slowly behind, my crutches hindering me, and every few steps I had to turn back around to look at him again. My heart sunk when we left the hospital, and I began counting down the days to my next appointment with him.

Little did I know, back then, he would not see me at that appointment I was back with my old doctor. I was upset, more upset than I should have been, I know I had got too involved with my fantasies, believing that they would come true. That the next time I saw him, he would say something and give himself away, he would admit he was agonized over how he felt about me. We would sneak away and I have the wedding my parents always dreamed I would have. But he didn't show and I was left, left every night, to dream about that blonde haired angel who would always remain just out of reach.

How was I to know that now, today, I sit opposite that very man. As though a day hadn't passed in his world, yet hundreds had passed in mine. Hundreds of miserable days I had spent wishing I was anywhere else. Wishing that he would find me again, reassure me that I hadn't dreamt it all, a tiny figment of my imagination was the truth. And now he had, eventually he found me, before it was too late, though only just. I realised that my memory hadn't done him any justice at all, he was far more impeccable. He was more than beautiful, more than handsome, neither of those words could hold a candle to him, pure perfection, an image of God himself.

I stared deep into his eyes, getting lost in their golden pools, wondering why on earth someone like him would ever remember someone like me.