"So, tell me. Why is your banker Carlisle's best friend?" I ask, sipping premium grade coffee from a tall, orange, marbled mug. "I thought you were done with him." I try to be careful, but there's no sensitive way to bring up past-lovers.
Esme looks out the floor-to-ceiling windows while she's perched on the buttery soft couch, legs tucked underneath her body, colorful polka dot socks peeking from under dark wash jeans. She looks...torn, somehow, a light frown in between her eyebrows.
"Because... I —, we still talk." She says. I look at the dark coffee in my hands, stir with the black, matte spoon. I'm not judging, I'm the last person to judge anyone, ever. "We never stopped talking, but we stopped having an affair. I just can't hurt that woman, and he loves her, but..." Esme trails off.
"He love you, too. Doesn't he?"
"Yeah, he does." I get it, understand the pain swirling in her eyes.
"His wife is dying, Bella. He need someone to talk to. He comes over quite often... I make him dinner, or fix him a drink. We eat and we talk. But that's it. I won't allow it go any further than this, because he's done far too much for me already." She muses, a nostalgic tone to her voice. There's this twinkle in her eyes whenever she talks about Carlisle.
"You can't stop the attraction, can you?" I ask, because I can't help it myself.
"No. Even though I try, so fucking hard." Hearing her curse was a little funny, since she's such a sophisticated woman.
"He ah — he comes here often, because this is actually his appartement. Carlisle lets me rent it, after months of nagging. I can't live here for free, it's too much. I'd feel too much guilt." She confesses. I already wondered how the hell she was able to afford this kind of apartment overlooking Central Park. This place probably costs a fortune.
I look around, spot the dogs sleeping, each on their own little pillow.
"That's so nice of him."
"He is a nice man, Bella. He isn't using me. And trust me, neither is your Masen. From what you told me, I think he really likes you if he's willing to let you move in. Oh, my God... some guys never want a girl to move in. And he just asked you to, so casually. I can't believe it." I feel my cheeks heat up instantly. She calls him mine, but is he?
"I hope you'll be happy in Miami, Bella. Although I'll miss you. But we'll schedule in video calls, okay?" She grasps my hand, warm and soft fingers curling around mine. I can't do anything but smile at her.
"Thank you, Esme. For everything. You're like the mother I always wanted..." My voice breaks a little at the end, but Esme beams at me, Susy barks enthusiastically and nudges my knee. I pat her head and scratch behind her ear. It's like she feels my emptiness inside, the mess of my cluttered emotions.
"I know we haven't known each other very long, but trust me, sweetheart. If I had a daughter like you, I'd be very fucking proud."