I'm not Stephenie Meyer. This story is written for entertainment, not profit...don't sue me. Pretty please?
Thank you every single one of you for reading, and continuing to review this humble story. You guys have no idea what all your kind words do to me! (I'll give you a hint: it's GREAT!)
This chapter is dedicated to the reviewers who gave me the idea for this chapter. Seby and Dominosowner, this is for you!! I'm glad to see that people are intrigued with this story to ask questions like you guys did!! Thanks!!
As always, thanks to Meghan for beta'ing.
Enjoy!
The day after Carlisle and Esme arrived I could barely concentrate while I was teaching my kids. My mind wandered over and over to the words Edward had uttered, and I knew I'd never forget: I'm in love with you, Bella. Just the thought of the look in his piercing green eyes as he said them made my heart pick up speed, and I was sure I blushed more than once as I was caught up in thinking about our heated kiss all while the kids were doing group work. After lunch, I caught myself daydreaming in the middle of a math lesson, and some of the kids noticed, because a few found errors in my answers when we were taking up the homework. I was embarrassed, but I knew this behaviour wasn't typical of me.
I was in love, after all. It was different than what I had first felt about James.
My relationship with James had always felt unbalanced; he was handsome, charming, and rich due to the inheritance that he received after his parents' murder, while I was plain, boring, and just barely making enough for tuition payments and room and board. While he never said it in words, I had always felt that I was beneath James and his notice, and bent over backwards to prove to him that I really was worth his attentions. Hindsight told me that that blew up in my face really quick, but I was a naive young girl in love--or perhaps infatuation--with a charming young boy.
Edward, on the other hand, made me feel like an equal, not someone upon whom he was taking pity. There was a sincerity and longing in Edward's eyes that told me he was feeling something different than what James had felt for me. In his eyes I read love, compassion, and a selflessness I had only ever seen in my father's eyes towards my mother--like he would willingly jump in front of a bus for me.
"Ms. Swan?" My student Patricia asked, pulling me out of my reverie. She stood in front of my desk, her mathematics notebook in hand, ready to ask a question about the work I assigned. I glanced around the room, observing silently as the rest of the class, with the exception of a few students who stood to get pencil crayons from the art centre at the back of the room, were working on either their math work or their art projects. I stole a quick glance at the clock before replying to Patricia. I gasped quietly. I had been daydreaming for nearly twenty minutes, and the school day was nearly over. I shook my head to snap myself out of my thoughts.
"Sorry, Patricia, did you have a question?"
She shook her head. "I'm done," she replied, handing me the notebook.
"Perfect," I said, smiling back at my student. I flipped the book open and skimmed through her answers. It looked like she had understood the lesson completely. "Thank you," I said. She smiled.
"Miss, are you ok?" Patricia asked, her eyebrows furrowing together. "You look distracted."
I laughed quietly, and then sighed. "That's because I am. But I promise it won't happen again."
"Oh, I don't mind," Patricia said, waving her little fourth grade hand at me. "You look happy." She grinned and walked back to her desk.
Well, it's pretty blatantly obvious then, isn't it? I couldn't help but giggle.
If my students were taking notice, Edward must be doing something right.
As I drove home after work, I found myself pushing my little Bunny to her limit, knowing that the faster I got home, the sooner I'd be with Carlisle, Esme, and Edward. I knew Edward wouldn't be done his shift just yet, but the wait would be more bearable in the presence of his parents.
I still couldn't believe that his parents were Esme and Carlisle. It was the biggest case of coincidence I had ever heard of. It made sense, after all, that such a warm and incredible man like Edward would have been raised by the two warmest and incredible people I had had the fortune of coming across in my life, but the odds of that were still astronomical.
I wasn't scared or upset by it anymore; it only added to Edward's appeal all the more, knowing the people who cared for and raised him were Esme and Carlisle. I'm sure, had I been told of their relation in a different way, I would have acted completely different. I was still utterly ashamed of the way I took the news, so I vowed that I would make it up to them somehow. All three of them had been incredibly welcoming and compassionate, not to mention self-sacrificing, and my temper tantrum just threw all of that in their faces. Being the selfless people they were, none of them looked like they wanted to accept my apology, but they did, probably just to please me. I'd just have to apologize a few more times until they truly knew how sorry I was.
Anyway, now that I knew that they were related, I saw little similarities between the three of them with startling clarity.
It was hard to tell whether or not Carlisle was truly Edward's biological father, though, since they shared mannerisms that would confuse anyone who thought otherwise. Whenever either of them were frustrated or stressed, they'd run a hand through their hair and tug ever so slightly.
Edward's most predominant features, on the other hand, bore striking similarities to his mother. His hair colour had more auburn in it than hers, but the texture was probably the same. I could only assume because I hadn't become familiar with the texture of Esme's hair, just Edward's when I ran my fingers through it. The shape of his eyes was all Esme, but not the colour.
Carlisle's eyes were blue. Perhaps Edward's green eyes were from a dormant gene...
"Hello? Carlisle? Esme?" I called as I entered the house, toting my purse, my lunch bag, and my canvas bag filled with school work to be corrected.
"In the kitchen, dear," Esme replied.
I had told them before I left for work that morning to make themselves at home, even going so far as to give Carlisle and Esme a copy of the key. As I walked into the house and took in a deep breath, I realized that they had done just that, because I was hit with an appetizing aroma similar to roast beef. I reached the kitchen and gasped. Esme had on a small apron and was stirring something in one of my larger pots, while Carlisle was setting my kitchen table. My roses from the day before were displayed beautifully in the centre of the table. They were nearly all in full bloom, and cascaded out the top of the vase elegantly.
"It smells unbelievable!" I exclaimed. "Do I detect a roast?"
Carlisle nodded. "Yes, one of my specialties."
"One of your many specialties, dear," Esme corrected him. I walked over to inspect what she was stirring at the stove and saw a pot full of creamy mashed potatoes.
"Wow, what a meal."
Esme grinned. "Edward will be home after 8, so the roast should be done by that time." She stopped stirring and turned around to face me. "Carlisle has to run a few errands before dinner, so it'll give us a chance to chat. Have a little girl talk."
"Alright, that sounds good."
"And I was thinking that maybe over the weekend, we can spend some time with Alice and Emmett as a family," Carlisle suggested.
"Oh, that's fine. I have some marking to do over the weekend anyway--" I began to say, but Carlisle stopped me, smiling.
"That includes you, Bella."
"Yes, dear, you are family, too, you know. And it's not like you don't know everyone. You've met all of our children, and our daughter-in-law, Rosalie."
I laughed. "I have. Thank you for the invitation."
He waved. "Think nothing of it. We'll iron out the details later in the week. But for now, I have to get going. I shouldn't be more than a few hours." He put down the final piece of cutlery on the table and smiled up at us. He kissed Esme's cheek and waved good bye, walking out of the room.
Esme ran her hands under the tap briefly before wiping them on the apron around her waist. She untied it and laid it upon the kitchen counter. Looking at me, then pointing at the kettle on the stove, she asked, "I have water boiling for tea. Let's have some, shall we?"
I welcomed the chance to relax a bit, after a long day of work, so I fixed myself a cup of chai tea and joined Esme on the sofa in the living room. She sat with her legs under her, looking incredibly comfortable on my sofa and in my house, for which I was thankful. I would hate to have known that she or Carlisle had felt out of place here.
When I sat beside her, she shifted her body to face me, still holding her tea in her hand.
"Your day went well?" she asked before taking a sip of tea.
"Yeah, but my students caught me daydreaming more than once. That never happens."
"Oh? Everything alright?"
I must have blushed because Esme giggled and gave me a knowing look.
"Ah, I see. What did my son do?"
She was good!
"Last night," I began, wondering if I could really talk about my relationship with Edward with his mother. The thought occurred to me than that, up until 36 hours ago, I didn't know that Edward's mother was the same woman who travelled with me across the country to relocate me.
"Last night," I began again. "He told me he loved me." The words were like honey rolling off my tongue, sweet and easy to say. I had spent the entire day bouncing those words around in my head--Edward loves me, he is in love with me. Esme gasped and beamed.
"That's wonderful!" She put down her tea and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pulling me toward her for a hug which I greedily accepted. I readily welcomed her maternal warmth. "And you love him." She didn't question it; she stated it more for clarification. I nodded emphatically.
"I'm so happy for you two," Esme said, pulling away and taking her tea up into her hand again. "The love of a good man helped me deal with my past. I hope it helps you, too, dear."
There it was; the elephant in the room.
From the moment I realized that Esme was Edward's mother, I had been so curious about her abusive past. But how was I to broach the subject? I was tense about asking for fear of inadvertently hurting Esme with my questions. I wasn't looking for specifics; I was more interested in finding more common ground between the two of us.
During the drive to New York, I got the feeling that Esme was a social worker or someone who dealt with traumatizing situations on a daily basis. Her compassion and empathy, I now knew, stemmed from her own experiences. Just how similar were our experiences?
I took a deep breath. "Esme," I began shakily. "Can I ask you about that? About your past? If it's too much--"
"That's what this talk was supposed to be about, Bella," Esme replied calmly. "I don't mind telling you anything you wish to know. I would actually like to tell you my story." She paused as she took another sip of her tea. "I think it's important for you to know our motivations behind helping you."
I nodded. "Sure. Whatever you're comfortable telling me."
Esme's kind eyes closed and she took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. When her eyes reopened, I knew she was ready to begin her story.
"Our parents were close friends. They always felt that we'd be perfect for one another. While they had a hand in the initial set up, it was our decision to date. My parents had always been highly protective of me and never let me date otherwise; I was an only child, you see."
"Like me," I murmured. She nodded.
"Yes. Greg was six years older than I was. I was infatuated with him. I even fooled myself into believing that we were in love. I'd like to think that we were for a time. He was always slightly controlling and jealous of other men looking at me, but I found it endearing. In my mind, it meant that he cared about me."
I nodded, knowing exactly what she meant by those words. James' jealousy was sweet at first, too. I misinterpreted it as affection and concern, rather than a need to control my every action to his liking.
"Well, once Greg and I began dating, I convinced myself that he was the best I could ask for. Both sets of parents supported our relationship, so we became serious pretty quickly.
"Everything was good until the day we found out that his mother had had been having an affair for six months. When the news broke, his entire family collapsed. His father filed for divorce, his brothers moved to Florida and refused contact with their mother, and Greg began drinking heavily.
"It was his trigger. He projected all of his anger and hatred towards his mother upon me, even when he was sober, and his controlling nature was exacerbated by the alcohol. He cut back his hours at his job, and used his free time to make sure I knew I was his. He'd pick me up and drop me off at my part-time job; he had ultimate veto power over my clothing choices, saying it was because he didn't want other guys to try anything with me. If I did happen to go somewhere without him, I had to check in with him every single time." The sad look in her eye struck my heart.
Esme breathed deeply. I thought she was on the verge of tears when she looked up at me, but she shook her head and smiled lightly, the hint of tears gone.
"My only real freedom in the year that we dated was that I went to college. He fought me tooth and nail on that, calling me all sorts of names when I told him I wanted to go to school, but my parents demanded that I attend, and he had to abide by their wishes."
"That's where you met Carlisle," I commented.
"Edward told you, then. Yes. Thankfully, Carlisle was finishing up at the University Of Washington School Of Medicine and he was on the UW campus visiting with one of his professors one day when he saw me crying on a park bench." She smiled to herself wistfully, as if remembering that day with perfect clarity.
"Things with Greg had gotten out of hand. The night before, he had picked me up from my parents' house and taken me to a secluded park, well known to the teenagers as a popular make-out place. We had been together for eight months then, but still hadn't been intimate, much to his chagrin." She looked down at her hands as she spoke, seemingly nervous about the topic. I put my hand on hers in her lap.
"Esme, you don't have to--"
"No, it's fine. It's been a while since I've talked about it. It's therapeutic to let it out sometimes."
I assented, nodding. She continued, now looking at an unknown spot upon the wall behind me.
"He reeked of cheap bourbon and cigarettes. His car stunk even worse. I knew that he brought me there to be alone with me, but I had no idea he wanted to take my virginity like that, without my consent. Up to that point, his abuse had only been verbal, so I wasn't completely terrified of him, and still harboured hope that our relationship was stronger than his drinking problems."
A tear trickled down Esme's mournful, yet still beautiful face.
"I held out for as long as possible before it happened," she continued, her voice getting quiet as she relayed the tale. "I kicked and screamed, but no one came to help me. There were other cars parked around us, but they probably thought my screams were of pleasure."
She exhaled shakily as she wiped a few tears away from her eyes.
Her story was really affecting her, and I hated it. I longed to wrap my arms around this woman sitting beside me who had so much strength, who encouraged me to be just as strong during my escape. But I knew she needed to retell her story, so I silently held her hand instead.
"By the end of the ordeal, I had a swelling left cheek, bruises on both arms where he held me down, and I was painfully sore. I couldn't face my parents that night. My cheek was red, and I told them I'd accidentally opened the car door too forcefully, smashing it against my cheek. It was slightly plausible, so they bought it.
"The next day, I was in class and I overheard some classmates talking about their first times, and it became too much for me. I flew out of the classroom and collapsed on a bench outside. I thought I was alone when I felt someone standing before me. Carlisle."
She smiled a watery smile then, remembering the moment no doubt. She sniffled, and suddenly her sadness was gone.
"I had never seen someone so breathtaking before, Bella. He had a handsome face and captivating, compassionate blue eyes. But he looked so concerned. He instantly asked me what was wrong. When I wouldn't tell him, he sat down, put his books beside us on the bench, and wouldn't leave until I told him my name at the very least," she chuckled lightly. "Carlisle was so stubborn. He introduced himself and told me that a woman as beautiful as I was shouldn't be crying. I knew it was a line, so I smiled as politely as possible and told him I couldn't be seen talking to him.
"I must have turned my head differently because he took my face in his hands gently and gasped. When his fingers touched my chin, I felt a strange sense of peace and safety I had never felt before. Maybe it was because he was destined to be my husband, or maybe it was because I was not used to being touched like a fragile china doll. Whatever the reason, I fell for him right there." Esme sighed, putting her tea cup on the coffee table and turning back to me.
"We talked for a few hours on that bench before I had to go home. We met again every day over coffee at the campus café, just getting to know each other. Within the first two coffee dates, he had convinced me to leave Greg and press charges against him. He didn't have ulterior motives though, Bella," she assured me. I hadn't even been thinking along those lines. I shook my head.
"I wouldn't have thought so, Esme."
She shrugged. "Just in case. He's a good man, Bella. He would never have taken advantage of me like that. I was in such a fragile state of mind after the rape."
"I know as well as you do that he's a good man. I have no doubt about that." She smiled and nodded in reply, then continued her story.
"We had quickly become friends, and while I thought he was gorgeous, I wasn't in the right place to be with anyone romantically just yet. He knew that, and supported me. He was just genuinely scared for my life.
"I told my parents about the night in Greg's car. Of course, they didn't believe that their friends' son could have done something like that, but when I showed them the bruises that had formed by then and reminded them about my swollen cheek, they were devastated. My mother cried for an hour, hugging me and apologising for not believing me and pushing Greg and me together. My father was silent, but I knew him well; his eyes were filled with silent anger and shame over being unable to protect his only daughter from Greg. Mother told me later on that he let his guilt consume him that night and they cried themselves to sleep. But I didn't blame either of them. For a time, I blamed myself. It wasn't until Carlisle made me go to counselling and help groups that I finally understood it wasn't my fault."
Esme's face showed her courage, her determination to not let her past beat her. Suddenly, she wasn't the fragile, broken woman telling the story only moments ago. Her back seemed to instantly straighten up, her chin lifted ever so slightly, and her eyes were filled with a fire I was used to seeing there.
"All four of us went to the police station the next day and pressed charges against him. The police seemed to believe me, but weren't optimistic about our chances to convict him without a confession. It was obviously incredibly difficult to make any charges stick because it was my word against his, but my bruises and swollen cheek added to my credibility. The police went to his house to talk to him. He resisted them and punched two officers in the face. He was intoxicated. They took him in for resisting arrest, and held him overnight, since they couldn't prove he'd done anything to me.
"Two days later, the police called and told me that he had confessed that he'd raped me. He was under suicide watch afterward. Psychiatrists who spoke to him said he was unstable because of his mother's infidelity and his family's desertion, and that I had been the outlet into which he poured all his aggressions."
"Carlisle was there every step of the way. At the police station, when the sentencing trial began, even the first few counselling appointments. He was a great friend to me in those days."
I had been silent this entire time, listening in awe at this heartbreaking story. I held her hand, lending my support to her in the only way I could. Another deep breath came from Esme.
"I was a month pregnant when Carlisle told me that he wanted to be with me. Neither of us knew at the time, but I consented to begin dating him. When I found out that I was having a baby, I was devastated. My parents were all for an abortion, but I had always wanted to be a mother, and I just couldn't do that, regardless of how he had come about. Carlisle stuck by my decision to keep the baby. He even offered to marry me when he found out, but there was no way I was going to take him up on his offer, just out of pity.
"We dated all through the pregnancy, and he was there, by my side, in the hospital room when Edward was born," she said, a contented sigh escaping her lips moments later. Her eyes dropped to the diamond necklace hanging around my neck--Edward's birthday present to me. "I was wearing it that day. The doctors told me to take it off, but I couldn't part with it. It brought me so much comfort."
I absent-mindedly touched the necklace and nodded, knowing exactly how she felt about it. I had been grazing the necklace with my fingertips all day, and comfort was the best way to describe the feeling it gave me.
"Me, too."
Esme cleared her throat and grinned happily. "Anyway, he told me he loved me the day we brought Edward home, and wanted to be the father to my son." She giggled softly, her hand covering her heart. "He proposed, and a few months later, we were married."
"What happened to Greg?" I asked.
"The last I heard of him, he was still in a rehab facility. His drinking continues to be an issue. As for Edward, Greg doesn't know he exists. We moved to Forks as soon as he was born. When the news broke about Greg in our neighbourhood, no one believed me, even when he confessed. Carlisle was right there, so of course, everyone suspected that I was already sleeping with him. Thankfully, there has never been an issue about his paternity." Her face suddenly grew worried. "I'm sure he suspects that Carlisle isn't his biological father, but--"
"He doesn't care, Esme," I reassured her. "He told me himself. He's proud of the father he has, and if it turned out any other way, he would still love you and Carlisle." I rubbed her shoulder gently. I felt her tension disappear through my fingers with each deep breath she took and released.
"I haven't told him any of this. None of my children know. At least, they don't know specifics. Only that I was in an abusive relationship. For a while, I denied that anything happened. I refused treatment, counselling, anything. Carlisle was my guardian angel."
I was instantly emotional at her sentiment. Tears filled my eyes, and fell quickly. "Mine, too," I sniffled, drawing unintentional attention to my tears.
"Oh, Bella," Esme murmured, pulling me toward her and wrapping her arms around me tightly.
"I don't want to think about where I'd be if you and Carlisle hadn't helped me escape," my voice broke and grew quieter with the tears that continued to flow unabated. "I'd probably be dead." At that, my cries became sobs. Esme just held me and soothed me in the maternal way I had missed all these months. She smoothed the hair that had fallen across my face away and rubbed my back softly.
"You don't have to think about that now. Not now, and not ever. He will never find you," she said, stressing each word. "You don't have to live in fear anymore. We're all here for you." She hugged me to her again, and it effectively quieted my sobs some. I glanced up at Esme and saw tears in her eyes, too.
Just then, we heard the front door unlock and Carlisle and Edward rush into the living room.
"What happened?" Carlisle asked as Edward stepped forward and kneeled before me, placing a hand on my cheek. I hummed at his touch, the reason for my tears instantly forgotten.
"Why are you crying, love?" Edward asked worriedly, wiping a tear with his thumb. I couldn't help but smile a watery smile at him at hearing his pet name.
"Your mother and I were just talking. It's fine, really," I assured. Carlisle had a strong hand on his wife's shoulder, and watched both of us with concern.
I looked at the clock on the wall and was shocked by the time.
"Is it already past 8? Have we been talking for all that time?" I asked Esme, who grinned at me.
"I guess so. That would mean that dinner is ready, everyone." Esme rose from the sofa, wiping her eyes and straightening out her trousers before walking into the kitchen, out of view. Carlisle followed immediately behind her, no doubt to check on her. Edward took a seat beside me where Esme had been and grasped my hands in his.
"Are you sure you're alright, Bella? What were you two talking about that got you both so upset?"
I shook my head. "I'm better now that you're here," I smiled at him. "We were talking about the ways that she and I are similar."
He knew what I meant because his eyes grew compassionate and understanding. "Baby," he began, leaning closer to me. He squeezed my hands gently. "I wish I could have been there with you when you escaped him, like dad was for mom. Sometimes I think that I could have helped you more by being there--"
I had to cut him off. I put a finger to his lips. "You've already helped me more than you realise. Your friendship, and now your love, makes me feel strong." Edward smiled at my words and released my hands, opting instead to wrap his arms around my shoulders. I melted into his side, probably smiling like a fool as the warmth of his touch permeated my skin soothingly. He kissed my temple.
"You make me feel pretty strong, too," he chuckled lightly. "I love you, Bella. Never forget that."
I sighed and nodded silently into his arm.
"You sure you're alright?" Edward asked once more.
"Yeah. I am a bit hungry, though."
He hummed. "Me, too. Let's go check on dinner." Edward rose and helped me up with him.
As we sat together, like a real family, eating the delectable meal Esme and Carlisle had prepared, I couldn't help but be floored by their generosity once again. It wasn't everyday that relative strangers went out of their way, risking everything they had ever worked for to help someone in distress. Here they were, my three saviours, in total comfort in my home.
The thought that would have brought me to tears before, made me beam now. My emotions were completely out of whack.
"Bella?" Edward called to me, bringing me out of my thoughts. "What are you smiling at?"
"Oh, nothing. I'm just really happy," I paused, looking at all three of the Cullens at my kitchen table. "Really, really happy. Thanks to you three."
Carlisle chuckled softly while Esme smiled warmly at me. Edward released his fork and rested his hand over mine on the table. He patted it a few times before speaking. "I'm glad we make you happy, love. You deserve it."
I blushed at his words, returned his smile, and got back to eating.
A thought occurred to me: I had gotten my birthday wishes. Esme and Carlisle were staying for two weeks, and Edward and my relationship had grown by leaps and bounds in a matter of a few days.
I knew things would continue to be great in my life, so long as Edward, Carlisle, and Esme were a part of it.