Hey guys! Back with another update here. I saw the reviews you left for the last chapter and it gave me motivation to getting around to writing this one. Thank you for the kind words and encouragement! Suppose it's safe to say, y'all are basically 'Team Esme'. :P
With that in mind, don't hate me for this chapter…
As always,
-Your daily dose of romance
"Alright, I'm headed out. I'll see you guys later!" Carlisle announced the next morning near the front door as he grabbed his coat off the rack and slid his head into his scarf.
"Okay," Esme answered as she walked up to him while Bella sat on a kitchen island stool. It was true that Esme was still annoyed with Carlisle but she'd given him a quick peck on the lips as she always had every morning before he headed off to work. With her kiss, she made him see that they stood at a stalemate—a kiss of peace.
"I love you!" She told him as he walked out the door and on to the patio.
"Yep. You too," was all her husband had to offer. Esme kitted her brows together at that. She didn't always expect him to continue on with their quirky ways of announcing their love for one another like they always had, rather it was just something they did.
"Love you more…" Esme mumbled as she watched Carlisle's car pull out of the driveway and on to the street. She closed the door and as she did, she felt like her and Carlisle were on a downward spiral. The first red flag she'd seen was when he hid himself away after he came home from work. She knew he was more than likely tired and he had every right to rest alone but he always said being on his feet all day never really bothered him.
The second red flag was why he stayed at the hospital so late. She knew he had patients to tend to and he had a moral duty to do so. That never bothered her either but it seemed, when he was at home, he was always somewhere else. He was never truly present like he used to be. If something bothered Esme, he used to ask about it, now either he never noticed or didn't care.
The third flag was his drinking that seemed to be a growing problem, not only for her, but for their marriage and his job. It wasn't the first time he'd ever gone to work a bit hungover but it was just not him, not the man he used to be anyway. He didn't drink because he knew he could, he drank to be social. He only drank a glass of wine or two with dinner, not an entire bottle every evening like he began to.
Thinking of these things made Esme suddenly feel ill. She took her medicine as Bella ate breakfast and went to lay down. She knew she had to go to work but it seemed like a lost cause now. She was too sick. She was too tired. She was too sick and tired of being sick and tired.
She was nauseated and just the idea alone made her stomach churn. She had very little energy and whatever she had was burned within the first few hours of being awake. She'd lost weight because she had no appetite and walking had become a small hurdle because it hurt. Both Esme's doctor and friend, Brett, had explained the symptoms of her sickness and the fact that they might get worse as the cancer grew. Simply put, Esme was hurting.
She was hurting in every which way, both physically and emotionally but she refused to become a victim. She refused to become a victim and another cancer patient. She refused to have her husband continue on in his self-destructive patterns that would only fester like a wound.
Yes, she was troubled, but it had been something that was familiar to her. She was lying to herself about her current situation but that was something that she knew all too well. She was terrified, confused, upset, tired…sick.
She had her fair share of 'skeletons in the closet' as some might say. These skeletons she dare not remove and bury for fear of her husband seeing the destruction in their wake. Esme knew if they were to be dealt with, they would ruin her and so she refused to think about them. All this Esme knew, but she was done with it.
She was going to fight her illness to her dying day when she either died in the hospital not much older than she is now, or she was going to die an old, frail woman with grey hair and a story.
She refused to die, she wasn't ready, not yet anyway and if Carlisle wasn't going to help her with healing, she was going to do it on her own. She didn't need him. She didn't need anyone. She's a strong, independent woman and she was going to fight.
She refused, no longer would she play the part that was seemingly written for her as the innocent victim. She would fight. She would begin this fight in the best way she knew how—advice. But first, she called into her office, told them she was sick and went to take a quick nap.
"Carlisle's been acting really weird lately," Esme explained as she sat with her neighbors and closest friends a few hours later. She still felt terribly ill but one would have only taken notice if she'd told them. She played her part of "the worried wife" remarkably well only because she really was worried about Carlisle even though he'd been less than helpful.
She did love him, she never denied it. She was also willing to help him along and stand him out on the monument she'd built instead of the gave he'd buried himself in. Perhaps that is what he meant when he'd told her she was his rock.
"What do you mean?" Irina asked as she sipped on a glass of water with a lemon mixed in with the ice-cubes. She was a tall woman with long, blond hair and a pale, narrow face.
"I don't know," Esme furrowed her brow, "it's just like the little things he used to do he doesn't do anymore. There was this other thing, but…"
"But what?" Martha asked.
"No, you're going to think it's stupid," Esme shook her head.
"You started it," Carmen told her, calling her out. Carmen was a short, little firecracker, nearly as short as Esme with wild hair that stuck out in every direction. The only direction it was given was it was twisted in naturally, tight curls.
"What is it?" Martha tried again.
"Fine," Esme gave. "Whenever one of us tells the other we love them the other says 'I love you more.' Like if I'd said it, he would say 'No you don't.' and then I'd say 'Yes, I do.' and you're going to say it's nothing but I'd told him I loved him before he left and nothing. He just said 'You too.' and that was it."
"You know what?" Carmen began jabbing her finger toward Esme, "He's not ready for a baby."
"No, he wants the baby more than I do," Esme told them as she playfully swatted Carmen's finger away.
"Are you sure?" Zafrina, who was naturally the quietest, spoke up. She was a gangly woman, with dark skin and dark hair. Her dark eyes were entrancing but her friends claimed it was simply because of her wicked eyeliner that always seemed to be perfect no matter the time of day.
"…yeah, I'm sure," Esme told them but something in her voice or manner threw her off enough that they weren't convinced.
"You don't sound sure," Martha told her.
"Yes, he does," Esme said with more confidence.
"It's an affair!" Carmen exclaimed receiving odd looks from the other three women.
"No it isn't!" Esme was quick to defend.
"Well, have you guys…" she tried.
"What?" Esme asked sipping on her water.
"…you know, come together?"
"What?" Esme asked again through slitted eyes.
"As husband and wife lately?" Carmen finished.
"What are you getting at?" Esme questioned unsure of what Carmen was trying to say. She brought her glass to her lips for another sip of her water.
"I'm trying to be as subtle as I can and Esme, you're not making it easy. Have you been servicing the needs of your husband and has he been servicing your's?"
"Oh God!" Esme coughed as some of the water had gone down the wrong tube, "Carmen!"
"What? It's one of the signs of an affair," she defended.
"Carlisle is not having an affair!" Esme claimed.
"How do you know? It's not like they leave out balloons when they're doing the dirty!"
Esme laughed at that. She was glad to have her friends, they took her mind off of more important matters as they jibbed and joked with each other. They made her feel human. They made her feel better. They knew she was sick but they didn't mourn her, not yet anyway.
"I doubt it," Esme smiled. "Besides, have you seen Carlisle even try to lie? He's terrible."
"But that's when you knew he was lying," Martha began. "He probably made it obvious because he didn't want to upset you. You know he's sensitive about those kinds of things."
"Yeah, and him sleeping with some broad isn't going to upset me!" Esme joked, "Makes perfect sense!" She exclaimed as they all bursted out laughing.
"We're just saying," Martha said as the laugher died down, "as your closest friends and partners in crime. Don't rule it out."
"Whatever," Esme sighed.
"Now, what's going to be the baby's name?"
"Thank you," Carlisle said as he stood near the nurse's station at the hospital. He'd just finished his examination of his most recent patient.
"You're welcome, doctor," the nurse behind the station smiled. Carlisle looked at her through his eyelashes and gave her a lopsided smile that could stop a train in it's tracks and make any woman faint.
"I'm here to see Dr. Cullen," Carlisle heard someone, a woman, explain.
"He's right over there," someone else mumbled as they indicated to the doctor.
"Thank you."
Carlisle looked up and was surprised to see a rather unexpected visitor.
"Bella?" Carlisle began walking over as she felt her stomach flutter as he said her name. "What are you doing here?" He asked with genuine enthusiasm.
"Surprised to see me?" Bella smiled as the doctor had come to stand next to her.
"Yes," Carlisle said as he looked around for prying eyes. He believed no one paid them any attention as they were busy with their work.
"Should I go?" Bella asked unsure.
"No! Of course not," Carlisle replied. "I was just about to go on a break anyway. Maybe we could grab lunch?" He offered.
"That sounds perfect," Bella smiled to which the doctor returned.
"But I really have to ask," Carlisle started, "what are you doing here?"
"What?" Bella asked innocently. "I can't see the father of the child that's growing inside me?"
"Shh!" Carlisle hushed quickly as his head shot up looking for anyone of note who might have heard.
"What?"
"I just…I don't want people getting the wrong idea."
"It's not like those types of things are illegal you know."
"Still. I know some people have relationships like an affair and…"
"Is that an offer, Dr. Cullen?" Bella asked as she took what Carlisle thought was a jokingly seductive step toward him. He gave no reply and instead laughed it off. He sighed and shook his head as his smile still graced his face.
"Anyway, is there anything you need to do before we head out?" Bella asked with her eyes never leaving his.
"No, I've just got to get my coat," Carlisle told her as he began walking toward his office. Bella stood there unsure of what to do so she bit her lip and stood awkwardly.
"Wanna see where I spent most of my time?" Carlisle turned and asked when he didn't hear footsteps following him.
"Sure," Bella nodded and quickly caught up with the man to whom her affections were for.
"Come on."
They walked along the hall and passed several rooms until they were met with an oak door with a large pane of translucent glass.
Carlisle Cullen, M.D. were printed in black letters in the window at eye height. The man to whom the office belonged opened the door and allowed Bella to step inside first. Two of the four walls were paneled with books, most all of which were medical journals of sorts. Others were book ends to keep the tidiness. The wall closest to the door was painted a simple tea green to match the large green plant that sat in the furthest corner. Several appropriate works of art hung off the wall in a manner that suggested the owner of this office had taste.
There was a small couch that sat in front of this wall that directly faced the large stained wooden desk. The desk was littered haphazardly with manilla folders that stood on their own half a foot upward. This covered a single picture of what Bella could only assume would be Esme. There were other amenities like pens and pencils that sat in a holder, a stapler, a laptop computer and several other things Bella couldn't see over the folders.
All together, it was as ordinary as an office could be but simply because it was Carlisle's, Bella loved it. She'd finally seen the place were Carlisle spent his mornings, his afternoons and an increasing number of nights when he wasn't at home. She'd finally been able to see where he sat, where he worked, and quite possibly, where he could 'play'.
She waltzed over to the bookshelf with all the grace she could manage, which wasn't much, and picked out the first thing she saw. It wasn't a medical textbook nor was it a published book, it was a manuscript. Bella looked at Carlisle curiously as he retrieved his coat of the coat hanger that stood poised near the door.
"Oh, you've found it," Carlisle said as he folded his coat over his forearm and walked toward her.
"I must say, hiding something in plain sight is a really bad hiding spot."
"Really? I find that the best secrets are always in plain sight because they're not hidden which makes them so much easier to overlook."
"Spoken like a true liar."
Carlisle said nothing at that as he stared Bella down and dared her to say another word.
"What is it?" Bella asked turning her attention back to the pages instead of the illusive demeanor Carlisle had seemed to have taken.
"It's a book," Carlisle explained. "It's a book that I've been writing."
"I didn't know you wrote," Bella told him as she flipped through the pages too fast for any information to have actually been taken.
"It's not something I share lightly. There are too many people who are willing to judge whether something is to be taken seriously or is not to be taken at all."
"What's it about?" Bella asked curiously as she turned her attention back to Carlisle.
"It's not about anything. It's about everything and nothing. It's random thoughts that I have when I'm working and when I'm at home. It's about characters that I make up but it's also about people I know," Carlisle explained as he slid the pages out of Bella's hands. "It's why I've been spending most of my time here than at home."
"It's going to sound stupid but, why'd you write it?" She asked as she let the pages leave. She didn't miss the fact that he said his writings were not shared lightly or the fact that he was now taking said writings back.
"I've had a lot on my mind. When I read what I've written, it helps my mind think more clearly. But maybe it's because the stories and thoughts are about something. Take high school for example or college and things we do at that time in our lives. It basically defines who we are and what we'll become later on in life. I believe everyone has a story to tell, everyone. Some event from their past, that they feel the need to…to share with another person. Why? We all want someone to understand who we are. This is who I am…this is who I was and who I'd like to become," Carlisle said indicating to the manuscript.
"Why not publish it?"
"I'm too afraid of what people might say," Carlisle explained as he shifted his weight and stood closer to her, "I met this girl once and I really liked her. It was years ago before I even met Esme, but she wasn't someone who I could tell certain things to. When I thought I could trust her enough, I let her read something that I'd written and what I'd written meant a lot to me. It was something that I never shared and she laughed in my face. I never forgot that. Bella…Bells," Carlisle began. They stood so close that Bella could feel the ghost of Carlisle's breath on her face.
"When I tell you these things, it doesn't mean that I'm looking for pity. It just means that I trust you," he told her staring into her dark eyes as she stared back into his light green ones. "But even then, there are some things things I can't tell you. There are some things I can't tell Esme. There are some things that I don't even want to tell myself. This is one of them," Carlisle said as he stepped even closer to Bella. Using his thumb and forefinger, he guided her head toward his. He wanted to kiss her. The temptation tortured him and flowed like red wine. He was almost persuaded to strip himself of the ring that tied himself to Esme, the ring that promised there was only one woman. He nearly pushed his conscious aside.
"I need you," Bella whispered stepping closer. "Take me away from here and be with me."
"But Esme…" Carlisle said looking into her eyes. He saw his reflection but it grew into more. It grew into the reflection of a nasty divorce and a new marriage to Bella whom Carlisle thought was little more than a child compared to him.
"Don't you love me?"
"I…I don't know. Maybe…" he was almost persuaded to let Bella's strange, unfamiliar lips lead him away. But Esme's sweet, gentle, familiar love made him stop and turn away.