summary: Does anyone know what polyfidelity means? Edward wants Bella. One problem: he's with Alice, and Bella is married to Jasper.

characters (this chapter): Bella/Jasper, Carlisle/Esme

warnings: au/ah. wip.

disclaimer: fic•tion [fíksh'n]: literary works of imagination

author's notes: sorry for the wait, been busy busy with exams. right. i did leave you all with a kind of a cliffhanger, didn't i? well, here is what happens to Esme. i hope you all like it! and THANK YOU for your reviews/comments, you know i love you guys!

OF LOVE AND RAZORBLADES

chapter 9: swore to shake it up

BPOV

I called Jasper in the car, telling him that I probably wouldn't be home for another couple of hours. He told me he'd probably be working late, but that I should call him when I got back in. I smiled to myself, and had never appreciated his way of calming me down more; Jasper just had this way of telling me everything would be alright, and making me believe it. It was a gift.

By the time I pulled up to the house, Carlisle was on the front porch waiting for me. He looked extremely tired. I took some moments in the car to take a few deep breaths, calming myself down further. Carlisle didn't need my tears right now, nor did Esme. And I prided myself in being a helping hand whenever I could. Carlisle had called me because I was able to keep a cool head in a lot of stressful situations.

"Bella, I'm sorry to have called you so late," he said when I rushed over to him. He put a hand on my shoulder and led me inside. The first time I'd ever laid eyes on Cullen mansion, it turned out to be everything I'd expected and then some. This was a place for royalty. The front door opened into a grand foyer; the first view anyone got was the giant winding staircase leading to the first floor. To the right there was a large and comfortable living room; to the left were mostly closed doors: Dr Cullen's office. "I didn't know who else..."

"It's okay, Carlisle. Whatever I can do to help." I wanted to put a hand on his shoulder, but thought the better of it when he almost broke down in front of my eyes. The time he'd spend between teaching classes and taking care of Esme and Michael was beginning to take its toll. There were dark circles around his eyes, and he looked dishevelled. This was a Carlisle I hadn't seen before. "Do you need me to take care of Michael?" I asked, assuming that was why Carlisle wanted me here.

"No, he's asleep," Carlisle said, his eyes filling up with tears. I'd never seen him cry before, hell, I'd never even heard him raise his voice before. It was silly, but sometimes I thought Carlisle didn't need any of those emotions, simply because his life was so perfect. I really should have known better than that. "It's Esme. She..." He put a fist to his lips, trying to maintain control over his voice.

"What's wrong?" I put my hand on his arm, and squeezed it lightly. I hated seeing him like this; I hated knowing what Esme was going through. No one deserved to go through these kind of hardships, but least of all Carlisle and Esme; they were two of the kindest people I had ever met.

"She won't come out of the bathroom," Carlisle said, and looked at me. He looked absolutely terrified, and in turn, fear gripped my heart tightly. I knew what that could mean all too well. "She won't talk to me. Bella please, could you..." He closed his eyes for the briefest of moments. "I'm just afraid she'll hurt herself."

"I'll talk to her," I said immediately. Even if I had to drag her out of there myself I would do it. The first time I'd met Esme Cullen it became clear to me that she might just be the epitome of everything that was kind and beautiful in this world. She was pregnant of Michael when I met her two years ago, and she'd been absolutely glowing with love. Motherly love that I had only encountered once before in my foster mother.

I'd never set foot inside the Cullen master bedroom before; the room was about as big as the apartment Jasper and I had on campus. Esme probably had her own walk-in closet. Not that either Carlisle or Esme hadn't worked to get where they were now. I knew Carlisle was born into money, but rather than becoming a medical doctor like this father, he pursued his love for literature. He met Esme in college, where she was studying architecture, and they'd been together ever since. It had always sounded like a fairytale, even though Esme probably romanticized it here and there, just like Jazz and I did.

"Esme?" I talked to the door as soon as I'd found the bathroom adjacent to the master bedroom. I heard a sob coming from inside. "It's Bella. Can I come in?" I asked, but Esme didn't answer. I looked around the room, unsure about where to go from here. I didn't want to upset her any more, but I also knew that if I kept standing there, I'd get absolutely nowhere. She needed to see me. So I opened the door, and gazed inside. Esme was sitting on the tiled floor, hugging her knees closely to her body.

It had been weeks since I'd seen Esme, not since Carlisle had called me to take care of Michael while he drove Esme to the hospital. Four months ago, Esme had found out she was pregnant again, and Carlisle and her couldn't have been happier. After three months, when she was already starting to show, and damn proud of it too, she'd lost the baby. When she got back from the hospital everything had seemed reasonably fine, until Carlisle had started noticing she didn't hold Michael the way she used to, or she didn't smile much anymore.

Four weeks ago, Esme had been diagnosed with post-natal depression. She hadn't been eating much, or sleeping, and right now she only looked like a former shell of herself. It scared me shitless how much she reminded me of my mother right now, at the end of her rope. I tried my best to get a hold of myself, because Esme didn't need me bringing back bad memories, and in Esme's case, I hoped it wasn't too late to help her. "Do you mind if I just sit with you for a while?" I asked, and sat down opposite her against the bathroom wall.

"He shouldn't have called you." Esme rested her head back against the cream-coloured tiles. She looked an absolute mess; too skinny, unclean. It broke my heart to see her like this. I'd lost my mother before I'd been strong enough to get her help, but I wasn't going to let the same thing happen to Esme.

"He's worried about you." I tried to keep my voice as steady and calm as possible. It was hard once I noticed there were three little jars of pills on the ground next to her. What was she doing? Carlisle had been right to worry. "And I might not know what you're going through." I really didn't. I'd never had any maternal instinct, and Jasper and I weren't planning on having children. Ever. "But I can talk to you in a way that he can't."

"Because you're a woman? You're a girl," Esme sneered. In any other situation I'd feel insulted, or at the least hurt, but I knew I couldn't hold Esme responsible for the things she was saying right now. "You couldn't possibly understand." No, I didn't know what it was like to lose a baby, but I knew plenty; loss and I had been lifelong friends. Just like hurt and me.

"I know that this isn't the answer." I sat up on my knees and grabbed one of the jars on the floor. It was some kind of heavy pain medication. My heartbeat spiked: she was seriously thinking about killing herself? "What about Carlisle? What about Michael? You would do that to them?" I asked, and from the way she looked up at me, I knew I'd struck a nerve. I had her attention now.

"You don't..." Esme shook her head and tried to turn her head again. I wasn't having any of that. If mention of her family indeed struck a nerve than maybe I could make her see they needed her.

I unclasped the bracelet around my left wrist, and held it up to Esme, revealing the inch-long scar running across it. "You see this?" I asked, and she looked at it in confusion. "That was my try. I stopped because it hurt too much, but I had every reason to keep cutting." And I'd had every intention to as well, but then one of the neighbourhood kids had banged on the front door, calling for me. "You don't."

"Why would you do such a thing?" Esme took hold of my wrist gently, and I saw the slightest flicker of the old Esme shining through. She was worried about me.

"My mom died," I answered, and sat down in front of her. Renee had just been buried, Phil was out drinking again, and I'd finally acted out on the paralyzing fear that had taken hold of me the moment the doctors said I should say goodbye to my mother. "My stepdad had free reign. I saw no other way out. But you have a beautiful family, waiting to love and support you from the moment you decide you want to get better. And you can, Esme." I looked at her strongly. She looked at me with sad eyes, but I knew that I was getting through to her.

She sniffled loudly. "Carlisle wants me to start taking pills." I never liked taking pain killers, but anti-depressants might just be the first step towards Esme's recovery. But that wasn't any of my business. That was between Carlisle and Esme.

"How about we start with some sleep?" I asked. Esme looked at me warily. "That's all you have to do. Get up and into bed, and close your eyes," I explained. I didn't want to make her do anything that was beyond her at this point. But she needed sleep. I stood up, and stretched out a hand towards her. Esme looked up at me, but conceded and took my hand. I pulled her up from the ground unsteadily, supporting her as we made our way back into the bedroom.

My top must have lifted a little too high when I reached for the sheets bundled at the foot of the bed, because next thing I knew, I felt Esme's warm hands at the small of my back, and she asked: "These bruises." I mentally cringed. "Jasper?" I straightened myself out and looked back at Esme.

"Yes," I answered, and waited for her to get under the covers.

"You let him do that to you after everything you went through?" She laid back, and I covered her up. What Jasper did to me was really my business, but I understood why Esme felt the need to ask me. That's just how she was, and in her current state I welcomed the question. There was more than enough hope for her and Carlisle to make it through this. "How can you stand that?" she added.

"He knows where the real bruises are," I said. And Jasper knew just how to avoid them.

Esme didn't ask me anything more. She turned on her side and cuddled up in a ball underneath the sheets. "Bella," she said, and I sat down behind her on the bed.

"Don't worry," I said, remembering a similar scene with my mother. "I'm here." I didn't touch her, nor did either of us say anything more. She laid awake for about half hour before closing her eyes, but it took some time longer for her to fall asleep. Maybe she was hoping I'd leave before she fell asleep, maybe my presence was comforting, but eventually, an hour and a half later, I called her name softly, and she didn't even stir in the bed.

I walked into the bathroom on my tiptoes, and snatched the pills from the ground, putting them in my bag. I'd give them back later, or put them back in the bathroom if I ever got the chance again. Something told me Carlisle seeing them might just break him. I checked on Esme one last time before closing the bedroom door behind me. Carlisle was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs; I sincerely hoped that he hadn't been standing there the entire time.

"She's asleep," I said, and he only nodded in response. "You should get some sleep too. You look exhausted," I told him carefully. I would have told him to stop worrying too, but I figured he didn't need me to tell him that right there and then. I didn't know what would have happened if Esme had been up there on her own for much longer, because he had right to worry. Esme needed help. And she needed her husband and son more than anything else.

"I will." Carlisle nodded, and put his hands in his pockets. "Thank you, Bella. I don't know how to repay you."

"Make sure you get Esme some help. And get through this as a family," I said, and truly, that was all I wanted. I wished there was more I could do than just talk to Esme, or take care of Michael. I wished I could just take away the pain that had once again found its way into my life, but I knew it wasn't my place to feel that way. "That's all that matters."

"I just wish she'd talk to me." Carlisle pinched the bridge of his nose, and stood still for long moments. Then he broke in front of my eyes; a sob escaped him, just as it had Esme earlier tonight. I had to do my very best not to start crying myself, and I had no idea what to do. Carlisle was like a father to me; children were never supposed to see their parents cry.

So I did the only thing I could possibly think of doing, even though it didn't seem enough by a long shot. I put a hand on his shoulder, and squeezed hard, fighting my own tears. Carlisle's hand came to rest on mine, and we continued to stand like that for countless of minutes. "I should go up and check on her." Carlisle straightened himself out, and looked at me. His eyes were almost as sad as Esme's.

I couldn't help myself; I took a step closer and threw my arms around him, hugging him close and tight, closing my eyes tightly. This had turned out to be one of the weirdest and most fucked up days in a long time, and I took it all out on Carlisle. I didn't even care if I was overstepping any boundaries. "Bella," he said, feeling one of his hands on my back.

"I'm sorry," I moved back, blinking through my tears. "I'll uhm... I'll just go." I turned on my heels, and rushed to the front door, closed it behind me, and ran for the car. I was a fucking idiot, hugging Carlisle? Sure thing, Bella, smartest fucking move ever. What the hell? How had my day gone from wanting Edward in my pants, to wanting to marry Jasper all over again the moment I'd seen Rose in her wedding dress, to this?

It felt like I sat outside in the car for hours, even though it was probably less than that. I clutched the steering wheel with both hands tightly. I hugged Carlisle, I fucking hugged my boss! How was I going to get out of this? I knew I was probably making too big a deal out of this, but I couldn't afford to lose this job. I couldn't afford losing Carlisle's friendship and care. The lights went out inside the house, and I figured I should probably be getting home; Jasper would be worrying about me. I didn't call him like he told me to; he'd be home sooner or later, and this way I could get myself together before he got back to the apartment. Jazz had this tendency of working better at night as well.

It was near midnight when I got home, and I released a sigh of relief when I made it inside our apartment without running into anyone I knew. I decided to call Rose and the others in the morning to tell them what happened; they were probably out partying, or asleep. It didn't seem right to kill their buzz over a silly little hug that Carlisle would most likely forget. And besides, Jasper would be getting home any moment, there was no one else I needed more right now. I'd no sooner had the thought, and the front door opened. I got up from the bed, but halted in my tracks when Jasper whooshed by me, straight towards the bathroom.

"Jazz?" I frowned, and moved to follow him. "Babe? What's wrong?"

He turned around and looked at me. His eyes instantly paralyzed me; there was fear in them. "Just give me a minute," he said, walking into the bathroom, and closing the door behind him.

I stood at the bathroom door listening, my hand raised in a fist, ready to knock on the door, but when I heard Jasper sob loudly, my breath caught in my throat. He was crying. I'd only ever seen him cry once before, and that was one of the most horrible days for him. My hand remained in the air; I couldn't will it to move anymore. My limbs felt heavy, and I only then realised just how tired I was. A lot had happened today, but it seemed life still deemed it fit to throw its shit at me even at this hour. Why was he...?

I thought about the last time I'd seen him cry; he'd just moved into the same foster family as me. I knew little of his past in those first years, but it was clear that his pain had everything to do with his mother, Maria. She found him one day, despite the fact that she was supposed to go nowhere near him. I'd seen Jasper turn from a fourteen year old that knew how to take care of himself, to a six year old that was scared stiff the moment his mother called out his name. It was the one and only time I'd ever seen him cry.

I laid down on the bed, eyes wide open, waiting for Jasper to come out of the bathroom. It seemed like hours passed before I heard the door open again. I didn't move, and he didn't walk over to me. I heard drawers and closets open and close, and he dug around the kitchen too. The bed dipping behind me was the only indication I got of him even noticing me. I turned on my back, and stared into his eyes. "Babe, I need to go," he said softly. I could tell he was hurting badly. "Just for a little while. I need to clear my head."

"Don't take too long," I found myself answering, but my mouth was moving without my brain's approval. I wanted to ask him what was wrong, because his mother had died a few years ago. I needed to know what was wrong, and I needed him to tell me how to fix it. But I also knew my Jazz; he dealt with things in his own way, in his own time. It hurt him to leave me like this, but he knew I was selfless enough to let him go. If that wasn't fucked up, I didn't know what was.

"I won't. I promise," he said, and put a hand on my cheek. I put one on his, and suddenly yearned to have him closer. What a day. Hadn't it been my plan earlier to fuck Jasper senseless? To come home and jump his bones? Why did I suddenly find myself having to say goodbye again? Was it karma, or the same cruel joke life seemed to play on us every time things got better?

Jasper closed what distance was left between us, and captured my lips softly. I wanted him deeper, I wanted him everywhere, because I could feel tears streaming into my eyes again, and I didn't want to make Jasper think he was making me cry. He didn't know about my day, and I didn't want to burden him with it right now either. I parted my lips for him, but he didn't deepen the kiss. I wailed when he pulled back, and hugged me close to him. "I could wait until you fall asleep," he said, his voice showing just how much he was struggling. I needed to let him go.

"No." I took a breath, and looked into his eyes again. I wanted him to stay just as much as I wanted him to be able to deal with this. "You go clear your head. And hurry back to me."

"Okay." Jasper pressed his lips to mine once more. "I love you," he whispered, and got up from the bed. His hand slipped from mine.

"Love you too," I said, and turned back on my side. I heard the door open, then close behind him. I waited for the sound of Jasper's footsteps to die out. And then I burst out in tears.

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