Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Twilight series or any of its characters. They belong to Stephenie Meyer.
Chapter 9: Give Me Strength
Columbus, Ohio 1919
I had kept up with the news. It was the only way to know if Charles was alive or not since he never wrote to me. Each day I checked the lists of the dead or missing and never found his name. My friends, who had understood my abandonment of them during the first two months of my marriage, thought I was acting like any normal wife whose husband was off to war. What they didn't know is that I also scanned for the name of my angel, Carlisle Cullen, and thanked God everyday I didn't find it. I did not want Charles dead, that was too harsh, but I knew I couldn't live with Carlisle gone from this world.
In the two years that Charles had been absent I had changed my life around. I was no longer afraid and no longer felt raw and exposed. Charles' beatings faded over time to resemble something like a faint childhood nightmare.
Not only had my mental outlook changed, but also my physical surroundings. I had given color to the walls that made everything look more airy and open. The gardens, which had been bare, held a wild assortment of flowers. I had also restored some of the older furniture in the attic and began to use it in place of the newer things Charles had used. Something about the past appealed to me, as if I could recapture my youth in the works of my hands.
I was busy rearranging some fresh flowers into a vase when I heard a knock on the door.
"Come in Martha!" I shouted to the friend I had been expecting.
"Well Ms Esme, what is the occasion?" Martha said jokingly as she eyed my work with the flowers, "Is it possible that you are a wee bit excited?"
"Excited about what you silly fool?" I replied in the same light tone.
"I don't know," Martha countered, playing stupid, "I thought a loyal wife like you would have checked the paper today."
"I haven't had the time," I responded, my voice sliding a little bit into panic as I tried to figure out what she meant, she knew nothing of my marital troubles, "What is in today's paper?"
"I'm shocked that you haven't read it," Martha continued, her tone still irritatingly light, "But I expect you'll be excited to hear that Charles should be home any day now."
The vase fell from hands to shatter on the floor, glass flying in all directions. I barely noticed it as I answered my friend, my voice trembling, "Charles, back?" I gasped, "But how? The war is still unresolved!"
"No," Martha said, her voice wary now, "They've signed the peace treaty. Our soldiers are coming home."
"Oh God Martha! Oh God." I replied before falling into a stunned silence.
I had barely survived two months and now I was expected to survive a lifetime with no relief in sight. My world became bleak and black again with no visible ray of hope. I prayed that Martha simply took it as shock.
"There, there dear," Martha said comfortingly as she sat me down in the nearest chair and began picking up the glass fragments, "Everything will be wonderful! I suppose you just weren't expecting a miracle this soon."
I smoothed out the horrified look on my face as I chose my next words, "Of course. Just a bit of a shock, it is so soon and I just was not expecting it."
"I'll just have this cleaned up in no time," Martha prattled on, "And then I suppose I will leave you for a bit. You look like you might need to lie down. A little nap is the best thing after a good shock I always say."
"Thank you." I replied absently as I drifted upstairs to my room. I needed time to grieve for the loss of my freedom.
A month passed by. Then another. Then another. Months flicked by like days as I waited for my blessed life of solitude to end. By mid-December I had begun to hope that Charles had found other distractions that held more sway than terrorizing me.
When I had heard that the peace treaty had been signed in June I had hidden my precious handkerchief away again. I was afraid that Charles would surprise me and then punish me for having another man's initials laid over my heart. He would suspect I had taken a lover in his absence. But by the time Christmas Eve rolled around I felt safe in wearing Carlisle's gift again; I thought of it as my present to myself.
Snow began to cover the ground as I worked busily around the house; putting up decorations for myself and losing myself completely in thoughts of what Christmas with Carlisle would be like.
Suddenly a blast of cold air hit my back and turned to shut the door which I thought had blown open. How wrong I was.
There in the doorway stood Charles, my wayward husband. His face was gaunter, his body was slimmer, but his eyes held the same darkness that terrified me for the two longest months of my life. I froze, Carlisle's handkerchief exposed in my hand.
"What the hell are you doing Esme?" Charles whispered murderously, "What the hell have you done to this house? And what the hell is that in your hand?!"
My response was slow and full of fear, "I-I was decorating for Christmas. I changed a few things to cheer- I mean- keep me occupied while you were gone."
My eyes were glued to the floor as he stepped closer, slamming the door behind him. Somehow I felt colder even though the icy wind was gone.
"You did not answer all of my questions wife!" hurling his words like daggers.
"This is nothing but a simple handkerchief," I replied hastily, too hastily.
"Really?" He asked incredulously as he snapped in from my hand and inspected it, "Then why does it have another man's initials on it you cheating wench!"
My mind turned over answers quicker than I thought possible until I came to the only one that would save me. It also happened to be the blackest of blasphemies.
"The initials are yours and mine together," my voice shaking as I spoke, "It was supposed to be a 'C' and an 'E' but my embroidery skills are lacking. I made it to remember you by everyday. That's why it's so worn."
My lie hurt my soul but it probably saved my life. I wondered if it had been worth it.
"I'll show you the only thing I missed," he replied crudely as he tossed the cloth to the floor and grabbed my hand to drag me upstairs.
And so it all began again. The torture, the pain, the shame now fresh and wounding me to my core as it had before. When he eventually fell asleep, I snuck downstairs a hid the handkerchief under a loose floorboard in the kitchen, not being able to bear hiding it farther away. I would need every bit of strength my angel could give me if I was going to be able to endure.
AN: I would like to thank all who have reviewed and all who have added me to story or author alert. It makes me feel great to know I have readers. I'm sorry my posting pace has slowed but I'm back at school so chapters won't be coming as fast as they did at first. I like this chapter a lot better than the last one and I hope you all liked it too! See you guys next chapter and remember to keep reading and reviewing. And not too many chapters to go before we see Carlisle again! I'm so excited!!
PS. Can anyone spot the Doctor Who reference? And just to say I don't own Doctor Who either.
