Alright. It's 12:10 at night. I'm listening to Russell Brand. And I'm drinking highly carbonated diet soda. I wrote the first bit of this with Edward way back in May of 2008. I just wrote the bit with Andrew. I don't really have anything else to say, so read on.

-The Duke: "You expect me to believe that scantly clad, in the arms of another man, in the middle of the night, inside an elephant, you were rehearsing?"

-"Moulin Rouge"

EPOV

April 24, 1918; Chicago, Illinois; Mason Manor

I stormed into the parlor and sat down at my piano, desperate for a release from the anger that was bubbling inside of me, threatening to make me explode. My fingers moved of their own free will, the angry notes that seemed to pour out of my soul filled the room with their venom. My fingers began to ache but I took no notice. The anger still throbbed in my body.

My mind raced with thoughts of pain, betrayal and fury. How could she do this to me? I thought to myself. I had known that Charlotte didn't love me as her husband, but I had thought that she would have cared deep enough for me to know that she would never…I couldn't even think about it anymore. Oh, god, if word got our about this, I didn't even want to know what mother would do to me, much less her. Well good, that little voice in the back o my mind whispered, she deserves it! I felt hot tears roll down my face. No she doesn't.

As if she had been summoned, Charlotte appeared in the doorway to the parlor, wrapped in her white lace robe. My heart melted at the sight of her face. The skin around her eyes was red and rubbed raw. She had been crying. Her ocean blue eyes were filled with some emotion that I did not recognize. They fell to the ground as he gaze met mine. Most of my anger may have evaporated, but my mind was holding on fast and tight to the last remnants. I clenched my jaw and my fingers went back to the pounding the keys of the piano, angry notes once again filling the air.

"Go away." I said, not looking up. "Even your very presence irritates me!" I put all the venom I could into the glare I shot at her. Charlotte looked taken aback at my words. She opened her mouth several times, but never said anything. At last, she shuffled over to the piano, her eyes on the floor. She sank down onto the opposite side of the bench, her hands gripping it on either side of her body. I ignored her.

"You're really mad at me, aren't you?" she whispered weakly. OF COURSE I AM! I wanted to scream at her, and I was mad at her. She had betrayed me, her husband, the only man she was supposed to share herself with. She deserved my anger. But that was only the practical part of my brain talking. The other side, the side that thought of Charlotte not as my wife, but as my friend, was not angry with her at all.

"Well?" Charlotte was still waiting for her answer, but I did not know which one to give. I knew that I was in love with Charlotte. I knew that she was in love with me, but did love me. She was my best friend and she had said, several times, that I was hers. There was no need for her to bind herself to me with love that did not exist. I realized that I had stopped playing, my hands still poised above the keys. I removed them and put then on my lap.

"Oh, please, Edward, say something!" Charlotte pleaded. I still could not bring myself to look at her, knowing that the second her eyes found mine I would crack. "This is so much worse than you yelling at me! I would rather die a thousand times over than sit here with you ignoring me like this!" Her voice broke twice; I could feel my hand twitch, dying to wipe the tears away from her eyes. She took a few shaky deep breaths. "Not that I deserve any better. I don't even deserve your forgiveness Edward, so I won't even ask for it." I peeked at her out of the corner of my eye and nearly gasped at the sight.

Her face was splotchy and red, tears continuing to stream down her cheeks. Her lips were trembling, obviously trying to hold back the cries that were threatening to escape. Her knuckles were white from her death grip on the piano bench. I had never seen Char so broken. I couldn't stand to keep her in that state so I did the only thing I could: I caved.

"Stop it! Don't you dare say that again. I should be the one asking for forgiveness." My arms flung themselves around her, pulling her into my chest. I could feel her tears as they dropped onto my shirt, an action I had been through far too many times. I couldn't stand to see Charlotte in such pain. She was so bright and beautiful; she deserved only happiness. My heart broke at the sound of her sobs. Her whole frame shook under my arms, cries escaping from her lips and filling the room.

"Shh, calm down Char, it's alright." I whispered in her ear, desperate for her to stop. "I'm not angry with you."

"Really?" Her voice was colored with disbelief.

"No, I'm not." I lifted her chin to look at her face. It was even redder and covered with tears and blotches. My hands moved absent-mindedly to wipe them away. I looked into her eyes to show her that I was serious. "Charlotte, you've done nothing wrong except fall in love with someone and exercise your rights therein. You just happen to be married to someone that you're not in love with, but the stupid bureaucrats that run this heinousness called society call that adultery. I, on the other hand, being the amazing husband that I am, see no crime that you have committed at all." My mouth spread into a smile and her lips soon mimicked mine. "There now, isn't that better isn't it?" A soft giggle escaped her lips. "Yes, there you are Char!" I laughed the sound echoing strangely across the room. My hands left her face and returned to the piano.

"I had been hoping to save this for your birthday party next week." I admitted to her as I brushed my hands along the keys until they were in their proper places.

"What party?" Oh. Right, she wasn't supposed to know about that.

"You did not hear that from me, and if anybody asks, this conversation never happened." I replied with mock seriousness. Charlotte giggled again, the light slowly starting to come back to her eyes.

"Play." She ordered, anxious for me to begin. I obediently turned to face the piano.

Then my fingers were flying.

The tone of Charlotte's song was light and brisk, like the sound of her laughter. There were parts that were slow and dark but they were few and far between and were always followed by fast and joyous chords. I had tried to capture the sound of Charlotte's voice, which was, essentially, the essence of what she was, in the notes that danced in the air. The way that she could switch characters on a whim, create excitement or sadness with a single word, and dredge up emotions that you forgot you had. Charlotte's voice was my favorite thing about her and the stories she told made it shine. She had a way about her that could make you believe all the impossible things that came out of her mouth and imagination. I had worked on this song for months and I still could not hope to capture such a wonderful sound.

I moved into my mother's favorite lullaby so I could talk to Charlotte; I could have played that song in my sleep and quite possibly if I was dead. I cast a look at her face and was surprised to find fresh tears falling from her eyes.

"Come now Char, what's wrong now? Was it really that bad?" Behind my sarcasm, I was burning with curiosity.

"No Edward. I think that it's the most beautiful thing you've written." Her fingers hastily wiped away at the traitor tears. 'I don't deserve you Edward." She whispered. "I treat like you're the worst person in the world and you just get kinder and kinder." She was on the verge of hysterics but I did not take her in my arms again; I suspect that that would just have made her feel worse. There was one question I had to ask first as well.

"Is there something wrong with me?" I asked meekly, hoping to God that she did not need to explain. Her eyes were full of confusion at my question and I unwillingly discerned that I had to. "What I mean is, is there any particular reason that you don't love me the way you love him?" my voice had all but disintegrated at the end of my confession. Terror ran through my veins as silence was all that greeted my request. Since I was expecting nothing but a list of my inadequacies, I was severely shaken by a pair of arms latching themselves around my shoulders and a face digging into my neck.

"Don't you dare say that ever again. What in the world could ever make you think such a horrid thing? You're wonderful and anyone would be lucky to have you love them." Charlotte pulled back looking at my face. Her hand lifted to caress my cheek. "Do you really think that?" she whispered in disbelief. "That you are in any way inferior to him?" Her eyes contained endless sorrow for reasons that I could not place, but whatever they were made me wish that I had not said anything. I merely hung my head in response to her question.

"I'm sorry." She said, leaning her head against my shoulder. "God, I'm so sorry, Edward."

I resisted the urge to scoff. She hadn't been sorry in December when she had just cut herself off. She hadn't been sorry on all those cold nights that I had to spend the time alone in our bed, wishing she was next to me again. She hadn't been sorry for all the missed kisses and empty embraces I had to dream about each night. And she certainly hadn't been sorry when she had kissed that man upstairs.

My fists clenched at the thought. I had seen the adoration in both their eyes, the passion in each touch. I knew how happy she had to be in his arms, but still. I was only a man. I couldn't help but be jealous. I had taken care of her all that time and she ran back to his arms again without a second thought. It was enough to drive a man mad.

And he wasn't supposed to there. The panic in his eyes once he had caught sight of me was enough to tell me that. She didn't want me to know about it. At least she had enough decency for that.

I sighed and rubbed my temples.

"Go on, go back upstairs. Don't worry about me." I said.

"No, he'll be gone by now, I'll stay with you." She said, clutching my arm. "The world would be a very sad place without you, Edward." She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment.

"But you would be able to live on?" I asked. She waited a moment before answering.

"Yes. It wouldn't be easy, but yes. And so would you, without me. Don't you shake your head" She growled. I looked down at my feet and shook my head again

"It's just-"

"What?"

"I'm just worried that I'll never get that." I sighed, running a hand through my hair.

"Get what?" She asked, concerned. My mind flashed back to what I had seen earlier. Charlotte in the arms of the man she loved, a look of perfect bliss on her face. That.

"A happy ending."

APOV

April 24, 1918; Charlotte's bedroom

I had been pacing for the last ten minutes. This was wrong. I shouldn't have stayed so late.

He had seen me.

The one thing that Charlotte had made me promise not to happen had. He knew and that terrified her much more than I would have thought. I sighed and sank into the bed.

It wasn't as if we had been doing anything. He hadn't walked in on us, per se, but perhaps that was all the worse. If his wife just wanted sex, that was only a matter of pride. That could be remedied easily enough. But to find your own wife in bed with another man because she desired his company over yours was even worse. Crueler was the best word. It meant that she preferred him over you in every way, not just physically.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. I wanted to know what they boy was thinking. Perhaps just a little peek into his mind would be enough. Not enough to be invasive, just a little touch. He wouldn't even know.

I sat up on the bed and closed my eyes. It had been awhile since I had used my power. I had never liked it, seeing into others minds without their knowledge. I was always worried that I would find something I didn't want to see.

I sighed and sent my mind out. I didn't know how else to describe it . It was as if my mind grew its own body and walked around before choosing a person to look through.

Out the door and down the stairs, through the halls and into the parlor. I could see everything as if I was really there. I weaved around Charlotte to rest beside the boy. I bit my tongue and touched his mind.

At first, there was nothing. Indifference everywhere, a thick wall of it all around his mind. I pressed harder, poking at all the sides for a weak spot. It broke and the flood of emotion hit me like a wrecking ball.

Pain. Blinding, searing pain. I couldn't think properly, couldn't breath, couldn't feel anything but the hurt. How could one person keep all of this inside all at once? I forced myself to push past the pain, searching for any kind of plan. I was terrified that he would push Charlotte away, turn her away forever. That would break her. I couldn't allow it.

I let out a sigh. No, he wasn't going to let her go. Despite all of this, he still loved her far too much for that. He would stay, even if it met that he had to live with all of this for all time. He wasn't going to be like me.

I flinched at the stray thought.

He was a better man than I was, then.

I wandered around in his mind for a little bit more marveling at all the twists and turns. It was far more complex than I had thought. I saw the pain, the pride, the joy, the love, and all of it made my heart want to break. He was…nice.

I sighed. This would all have been easier of he had been cruel and evil. It would have been easier to defy him and spirit Charlotte away one day. But right then, picking through his mind, I knew I wouldn't be able to do it. I saw everything through his eyes and for once thought that maybe all of this wasn't about just me.

Charlotte saw it too, how badly he loved her. She had some feelings for him, I knew that. Enough where she wouldn't be able to leave him willingly. I felt a pang in my heart, a cold stab of jealously; I hated the fact that she could love another man, in any way. Of course, it could always have been worse. Edward was kind, loving, and gentle, not like the others men that had asked her to marry them. He hadn't wanted it for her or him. It was for that simple reason that I trusted him with her.

I sighed again and withdrew from his mind. I had no place in this perfect world he wished for, and yet I always insisted on ruining it.

I heard Charlotte come back up the stairs, dragging her feet. She sank onto the bed and leaned against the wall, silent tears flowing down her cheeks.

"He doesn't deserve this." She said, wiping at one of the drops of water on her cheek.

"No." I agree, stoking back her hair. "No, he doesn't." She laughed softly, her voice muffled by tears.

"It's funny that you say that." She said.

"Why?" I asked. She was silent for a moment.

"It's just…when you were gone I used to have these dreams. Horrible nightmares. It would just be me and Edward for awhile, and then, when he would go to kiss me, you would be there. Mad, raving with jealousy." A shiver ran down her spine. She didn't say anything more. She knew that she didn't need to.

"Do you want me to leave?" I asked softly, looking down at the sheets. She sighed and twisted her fingers around mine.

"No more talk of leaving. Ever." She whispered. She brought my fingers to the warmth of her mouth.

"Things are just going to get harder now, aren't they?" I said.

"You have no idea." Charlotte sighed.

I apologize for being too tired to really write anything. Please review.

Until we meet again,

the3rdbronte