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Chapter4: The Truth about Esme
Her flat was easy to find. She lived in a newer building in Forks in a house with many flats and many tenants.
I was nervous, because I didn't know what she could need my medical assistance for, but since it was her job I was sure to find a young bruised woman sitting on her couch.
She opened the door for me and I climbed up two flights of stairs, then I came to an open flat door. I knocked on it gently,
"Esme?"
There was no answer and I stepped inside. The flat was a mess, furniture had been thrown around, frames lay shattered on the floor, books were scattered across the floor and the window was broken.
My thoughts had been right. On the couch sat a young bruised woman.
The woman was Esme herself. Her forehead was bleeding and she looked up at me with a tear-stained face.
After my first shock had faded I hurried over to her,
"Esme! What on earth happened?!"
She wiped away the tears that rolled down her cheeks and looked past me,
"I have an abusive ex-husband." She sobbed quietly, "He came by today."
I gently pressed a bandage against her wound,
"If you had told me that from the beginning things would have been very different."
"You still would have been frustrated with me."
"At least I would have been sure that you do know what you are doing." I moved my hand and looked at her wound, "Tilt your head back." I commanded softly, "You need stitches."
Her eyes were focused on mine as I did my work. She didn't flinch once. When I was finished I stroked her hair, putting it over the stitched up wound.
I could still smell the blood and moved away from her, looking around the flat,
"Esme, I think you should come with me – to my house."
She sat up, "No offense, but I really don't feel like going with somebody, who is practically a stranger for me."
"I live with five teenagers, so we wouldn't be alone and I only want to protect you."
"He won't come back."
I looked at the tipped over shelf, all of the objects thrown around the room...I could picture it, a violent man shouting, throwing, hitting around himself. And I could picture Esme. Crying, screaming for help..
She noticed me staring at her,
"You should go now." She stood up and swayed, immediately I was by her side and caught her,
"Sit back down." I whispered, "You'll have to rest."
She said nothing and looked down at my hand on her waist. I did so too and saw that her blood was on my hand.
I let go of her, "Where is the bathroom?"
Esme pointed towards the small hallway, "On the right side."
Inside the bathroom I tried to think of a way to help her and then realized I could stay with her as well and if she didn't want that I would stay outside of her flat and make sure her husband didn't come back.
I washed her blood of my hands and looked up at the mirror. It was broken. The glass was cracked in the middle. Somebody had hit it.
"It was you." I said, leaning against the doorway that led from the hallway where the bathroom was into the living room , "He didn't wreck the flat."
Tears streamed down her face again, "Not all of it, no."
I stepped towards her and sat down on the couch,
"I was just so..angry with myself." She sobbed, shaking her head, "I shouldn't have opened the door!"
I reached out to hug her and she cried against my chest.
"He had a tape with a baby crying and I thought..."
I leaned my cheek on her head and stroked her back.
She looked up at me and showed me her hand, her knuckles were bleeding,
"When he left I just lost it." She rolled her eyes, "It was stupid to punch the mirror."
"Everyone does stupid things." I said, as I gently cleaned the wound with a wet cloth, "I walked against a mirror once, that wasn't very clever either."
She smiled under her tears and moved away from me,
"Thank you."
"I told you I'm good at my job."
Smiling Esme wiped away her tears.
"Come with me." I tried again, "Please I can't leave you here by yourself."
I could see that she was thinking about it, finally she sighed,
"Yeah, Ok."
I waited for her in the living room as she packed her bag and wrote Edward a text-message, telling him that I was bringing Esme with me and he had to make sure the house was stocked with food and it looked like everyone was asleep when he I came home.
He asked if Bella could stay over night to and I couldn't say no to that.
Esme and I drove in silence, until she broke it,
"His name is Charles. We met when I was 16 and got married when I was 18. My parents thought it was the best idea I had ever had. I stayed until I was 22 and woke up in hospital." She smiled at me, "The doctors always said the same thing I had to get divorced, I was risking my life...well there was a woman there, she said she her name was Jenna and that she needed people like me."
I frowned, "What did she need you for?"
"The Evelyn Shoe Investigation. Evelyn was Jennas daughter, her husband beat her to death and now Jenna helps women and she said she needed people like me, who had hit rock bottom and then climbed to the highest point and could help people climb as well." She rolled her eyes with a smile, "Jenna likes poetry."
"She sounds amazing."
"She saved my life."
"Why did you call me? Why didn't you drive to the hospital?"
Esme blushed, "I say you with Marcy and...I couldn't think of anyone else to help me."
I didn't reply.
When I pulled up next to my home I saw that Esme was impressed. It wasn't something she was used to.
I opened the car door for her and carried her bag.
"The kids are all asleep, so we'll have to be quiet."
She nodded and I led her through the house to my bedroom.
"This is the guestroom." I lied, "Make yourself at home, there's a bathroom, through that door."
"Thank you, Dr. Cullen."
"You can call me Carlisle."
She smiled, "Thank you Carlisle."
"Goodnight Esme, sleep well."