Esme and her cousin Cathy were in a world of their own.
And for a long while, Esme forgot about the terrible past and all it's awful memories.
Yet like a recurring virus, some of it's memories came back to her unbidden.
But she refused to allow herself to be consumed by her unrequited emotions of her past.
She had a bright future ahead, and that was all that matters.
She and her child.
The two women would spend hours on end trying to cook succulent meals with recipes from a French cookbook Cathy purchased weeks after Esme arrived.
It was a complete and utter catastrophe.
But aside from the tragedy they had created in the kitchen, it was one of the loveliest days she will always look back on with a grateful smile.
Fortunately after some persistence, they did however manage to create a savoury and sinfully indulgent Cherries Jubilee.
"1 15 oz. can pitted dark cherries. 1 tablespoon corn-starch. 1 tablespoon lemon juice.
1/4 cup sugar." Cathy read aloud as she brushed a hair out of her face.
Esme walked up behind her to peek at the book.
"Sounds simple enough." She said, nibbling on her bottom lip lightly as she stared into the bottom part of the page.
"Homemade vanilla ice cream!" Cathy screamed.
"What's wrong?" Esme asked, her eyes widening.
"I can barely bake. Let alone create 'Homemade vanilla ice cream'" Cathy whined as she pointed to the ingredients with her index finger.
"We can do this. How about having a little faith Cat?" Esme replied, a deliciously Machiavellian smirk forming on her face.
Cathy's brows furrowed as she looked at her cousin tie an apron around her waist.
"All we have to do is follow the ingredients."
"You do realize this is culinary suicide?" Cathy said skeptically, raising an eyebrow at Esme.
Her cousin giggled.
"Not if we do it right. Come on Cat, just think how exciting this will be. And how wonderful it will feel when we actually accomplish this." Esme said sweetly as she gently nudged her cousin repeatedly in the ribs.
"Alright fine!" Cathy finally broke. "I'll do it, just...just stop nudging me." She couldn't contain herself as she let out a hearty laugh.
The kitchen was an image of utter ruin afterwards.
Time passed swiftly without them realizing it. Esme had begun resorting to wearing large dresses to accommodate her soft and round belly, "I have a feeling it's a boy." She would say to Cathy when they would spend long hours reading in front of the fire. "How do you know?" Her cousin would ask, "I don't quite know, I just feel it." Esme would reply, running a hand through her belly.
Sometimes Esme would lie awake during the long hours of night on her bed, staring at the window, the pale moon looking straight back at her with luminous eyes. Mixed feelings of both fear and happiness would engulf her during those hours.
The reason of such peaceful happiness she felt was because of the beautiful light and life she carried within herself.
Her baby.
Her child.
She would spend long hours fantasizing of the beautiful future that lay ahead for both of them. She knew in her heart that there was nothing she couldn't or wouldn't give to this wonderful creature, this angel in disguise. As long as she had him or her she knew everything would be just alright.
"Always know that I love you, sweetheart. You'll always be safe with me." She would whisper lovingly.
Esme would fight whatever trials and tribulations she would be faced with in the long journey ahead. She would endure it all, just to know that her child will be safe, happy and most of all, most importantly, loved.
Now there was only one cloud in her horizon left.
Charles.
The thought of that man would bring up such hate and anger that Esme would find her hands shaking at the mere thought of him.
She knew her stay with Cathy wasn't permanent. She was not oblivious to the imminent possibility that Charles would one day find her.
If she closed her eyes, she could still hear him screaming his promise of vendetta against her.
But the time has not yet arrived.
When it does.
She will be ready.
We will be ready.
She shifted slightly in her bed, underneath the warm white sheets. Her hair slightly sprawled delicately against her forehead as she took in a deep breath. Her hands deftly found their way underneath her pillow with familiarity as she slipped out the remaining half of the white handkerchief. Esme took a quick glance at it as she held it close to her chest softly before closing her eyes, a soft sigh escaping her lips.
She laid there in silence with her thoughts, and wondered as she had done several times in the past, down the long corridors of time.
Carlisle.
How he is.
Where he is and if he was alright.
Wondering if he too served his share of hardships during the war. And somehow wondered deep down if someone cared enough to comfort him throughout the difficulty and the empty embrace of the loneliness he must have suffered. Somehow Esme felt a slight pang of frivolous jealousy at the thought of a woman comforting him.
She tried to shake the thoughts aside to no avail.
She wondered if he ever had gotten wounded in battle God forbid, who would have taken care of him?
He was always the one who took care of others. Putting strangers first before himself.
The magic in him seems to come from his gentle touch and nature. Nurturing the wounded, caring for the sick and comforting the hurt. Some might say the reason for his actions is because he is a doctor and he is required to do so in that field of work, but what reason fails to reveal that he is far more than that, much more than words could ever say with justice. The very core of him was shrouded in a heavy cloth that was filled with mystery. Yet the kindness in him, his gentleness could be seen with such ease it almost felt as if she were looking into the eyes of a young child, guileless in his outlook, and a heart filled with a great compassion that radiated with such warmth and beauty. She could see it, feel it when he looked at her that night on the sidewalk. His eyes glimmering with a gentle fire in the darkness.
She stifled a yawn as her eyes drooped ever so slightly as she twirled her fingers around the cloth.
She sunk her head further into her pillow as slumber took her in its embrace.
The clouds were an electric shade of silver and grey, chaotically sprawled across the sky, painting it's canvas with an animalistic fervour. The black indigo canvas stirred ever so infinitesimally at the flash of thunder, roaring it's way through the never-ending sky.
She was standing on the ledge of a rocky cliff, lightning flashing behind her as her knees shivered against the ice cold air.
In the far distance the restless sea could be seen, wildly thrashing against the sharp rocks that lay below, as the waves writhed wildly in it's aquatic dance.
The dark waters were silently seducing her, tempting her senses as they urged her to stare into their hypnotic souls.
Esme closed her eyes, terrified to move. She could not seem to recall how she had gotten there in the first place. All she could feel now was the naked and nubile terror that lay in front of her.
She could feel the stony and callous texture of the ground beneath her as her toes tensed at the passing wind that tauntingly caused her body to sway against it's breath ever so lightly.
Please God, help me.
She prayed as she squeezed her eyes shut.
As she stood there frozen like a statue with fear, an ominous silence followed her.
The cry of thunder in the sky started to cause large droplets of rain to pour down heavily at her. She started shaking as she slowly backed away from the sharp edge; the ground she was standing on was beginning to feel extremely slimy and slippery.
One wrong move could send her off the edge.
"Jump!"
A piercing voice screamed from behind her.
She snapped her head in the direction from where it came and was flabbergasted at the person who stood there behind her with a menacing smile on it's face.
Charles Evenson.
Esme shook her head.
"You'll never see your son again, he belongs to me." Charles sneered.
"No!" She screamed, as helpless tears started to stream down her face. "He will never belong to you, ever!"
She could hear the echo of his laughter in the air.
"Do you want to jump? Or shall I simply push you?" He said dauntingly.
"No, no! Get away from me. Do not come near me." Esme said valiantly, as she slowly backed further away from the edge, inches at a time and careful as to not cause an unwanted slide down the rocky ground below.
"Jump, or your son dies."
Esme felt her heart stop.
"What?...you...you can't...you wouldn't..." She stuttered.
"Try me." He said with a smile.
Esme shook her head once more, "No, you're tricking me."
She watched as his face contorted with anger as he ran full speed towards her.
Oh no, please no.
She veered her head away from him as she closed her eyes in anticipation of the forceful push she was about to receive when. . .
A minute passed. She was still standing there.
Nothing happened.
The rain was beginning to cease as the clouds shifted.
Esme opened her eyes.
Charles was gone.
She was completely perplexed.
But my son, where is my son? What if he hurts my child?
Esme's mind started the flow of questions as she began to feel weak with worry. I can't let him hurt my son.
She thought defiantly.
Esme could still hear Charles's voice, screaming at her to jump. Tempting her strength.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a fleeting group of birds that emerged from the dark trees behind her.
When she saw them pass, Esme realized they were not birds. They were bats.
She felt her foot slip when a hand from behind her caught her by the waist, holding her gently yet firmly, pulling her into him until she leaned back into the stranger's intimate embrace.
"Don't jump. . ." He whispered softly into her ear.
The familiarity in his voice made her quiver slightly.
"Don't jump. . ." He repeated again gently. His breath tickling the skin on her ear.
"Carlisle..."
She turned to face him...
"Esme!"
A blood curling scream shook her out from her deep slumber.
What in heaven's name?
She sat up feeling slightly disoriented. Was it a dream or did she really hear someone scream her name?
Esme blinked her eyes several times trying to adjust her vision to the brightness of the room.
The sun was out and had no intention of dimming it's shine.
She heard it again, this time it came from the downstairs foyer. It sounded like Cathy.
She quickly slid off the bed barefoot and ran out of the bedroom and down the stairs gingerly. Her hair in a mad mass of curls as it billowed at her gait.
She saw Cathy standing at the door with a letter. Her face was pale.
Esme could feel the hair on the nape of her hair stand up.
Oh no. This can't be.
She stopped mid-way and cautiously approached her cousin; somehow hoping deep down it wasn't what she thought it would be.
Cathy's eyes were glued on the paper she was holding.
"Cat, Cathy, what is it?"
Her cousin slowly lifted her dark eyes from the paper and met Esme's.
Her next words seemed to take an effort as she spoke.
"It's Charles. He's found you. And he's coming in three days."
Esme's knees felt like gelatine as she heard those words.
Her mouth hung open, she could not believe it. Her brain tried hopelessly to not register the meaning behind those words, but yet there it was, crystal clear as water itself.
"Cathy, I have nowhere else to go. I don't know what I'm going to do. I can't, I won't go back to him. Ever. " Esme exclaimed helplessly as she placed a hand to her forehead.
She noticed her cousin's silence.
"Cathy, Cat! Say something. What am I going to do?" She said as she placed a hand on her cousin's shoulder, lightly shaking it.
"Charles is coming." Cathy repeated.
"Yes, I know, but-"
"I have a plan."
Cathy's lips contorted into an upward grin as her eyes sparkled lightly underneath Esme's stare.
A/N: Hey guys! I am super, extremely, DEEPLY sorry for the delay. The last 3 days were insane! Haha I got even bruised from the badminton game I attended this afternoon haha. Anyways enough of my blabbing. Enjoy! LOVE you all and God bless! :D and THANK YOU so much for all your kind thoughts and comments! :) Your the best readers a writer could ever have and hope for :)
Stay tuned for chapter 15! Weow!
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They make me fly with happiness :D