"Alright, you're good to go," Carlisle sighed.
Bella hopped off the brand new, but no longer unused, gynecological chair with a happy smile.
And because Carlisle couldn't help himself, he added, "Don't do it again."
She gave him a look, one that told him she didn't quite understand or else wasn't taking him seriously, "I'm very serious. He may have, miraculously, managed to avoid any damage twice but-don't do it again."
Not to mention, of course, the horrifying possibility that she could become pregnant while she was pregnant. Marcus' sperm, which apparently had spent quite a while in a very warm and humid environment, had still been quite happily alive by the time they'd reached Carlisle's room.
Carlisle had never seen anything like it.
Human sperm would have been long dead by then, and he was still upset with Aro for neglecting to mention to Marcus that sperm requires cool temperature. Marcus would have blamed Carlisle if he had to procure another sample, if he provided one at all. It would have been upsetting for everyone.
As it was, not only had Marcus' sperm survived being in a hot room for however long it took him and Bella to copulate (which, according to an aggrieved Aro, wasn't that long at all, apparently it was a completely miserable affair. Horrifically bad sex, one for the history books.
Carlisle would be lying if he didn't say that that had been gratifying to hear, save for the fact that Marcus didn't seem to particularly care that the sex had been awful), but samples Carlisle had taken from it had survived being frozen, microwaved, and, in a creative moment born of horrified fascination, fried in a pan.
Those little swimmers were still kicking, vigorous as ever.
Carlisle had been left with the horrifying thought that, perhaps, Marcus' sperm would be so long lived that they would survive a desperate search for the ovaries. Whether this was the case or not, Bella didn't appear to have a second gestational sac in her womb. She was not having fraternal twins.
Still, that sperm was haunting.
As an afterthought, with all this running through his mind, he added, "And I still strongly recommend that abortion."
"And I still strongly refuse," Bella chirped, as if they were bickering over which movie to watch.
Carlisle pursed his lips.
He couldn't say he knew Bella all that well. She was-the more he learned about her the decidedly oddere she became. So it was impossible to tell if her words were born of youthful ignorance and the mistaken belief she was immortal in the way all humans felt or if she fully understood the implications of her decisions and chose to make them anyway.
"Bella," he said, and placed a hand on her shoulder as he led her out of Aro's makeshift doctor's office, "I haven't finished my analysis of Marcus' sperm yet, I have to wait for my microscope to arrive tomorrow, to say nothing of the biochemical analyses - but, Bella, it's… it's disturbing. The sperm is– it's like something out of a horror movie about aliens, Bella, and it makes me very worried about you that you have any of that within you. Even if you weren't pregnant, I would still be terrified for you."
(There were dark, awful, thoughts to be had of Eleazar and the sex Carlisle suspect he had with the Denali's lovers. It had been one thing already, awful as it was, but now that he'd gotten close and personal with this...
And he couldn't say a damn word about it, because Eleazar would deny everything, and even if Carlisle found a way to bring up "Did you guys know our sperm is terrifying and should be kept out of humans?" in conversation, the Denali wouldn't change their course. They hadn't so far, and all Carlisle would accomplish would be risking the secret of Bella's pregnancy getting out.)
Carlisle had been awfully tempted to ask Bella for a bit of blood, if only to see what Marcus' venom-infested swimmers might do. In the end, the prospect that they might react to it had been too disturbing to move forward.
"I mean, you probably should be," Bella said, unbelievably nonchalant, "I'm in a castle of vampires in a foreign country, your creepy son leaves messages on my phone without my ever giving him my number-"
"Bella, this isn't funny," Carlisle sighed, and moved his hand up to her shoulder, pulling her towards him.
Funny how much he'd come to care for this human, still a stranger in so many ways, in such a short amount of time. It reminded him distantly of how Rosalie had shifted from being a stranger to being a daughter so easily, and in such a short amount of time, that Carlisle hadn't even realized as it happened, only felt the aftermath as he looked upon that haunted, hopelessly unhappy young woman and saw someone he loved with everything he had.
Like looking away for a moment, and then when you look back the world around you has changed to include one more person that it can no longer do without.
"I was being serious," Bella said, "You're right, all of this is terrifying. My father would be livid if he knew even half of it. I have simply decided… not to be terrified."
Carlisle wasn't sure what to make of that answer.
He sighed, deciding that there was apparently no convincing her, and noted, "That still doesn't mean you should have sex with Marcus. If you truly do want this-child, then you're only putting them as well as yourself at risk by sleeping with him."
That got her attention.
"You think it could harm Junior?" She asked, and clutched a hand to her stomach.
"Under ordinary circumstances," he said, wincing at the name 'Junior', "With an ordinary human lover, no. However, you are taking a lover who can bend steel with his bare hands. Pregnant women, Bella, are forbidden from riding roller coasters."
Bella chewed on her lip. "He doesn't really move," she mused aloud.
"I don't want to know," Carlisle said quickly, "Just as your doctor and a medical professional, given his capabilities, I strongly discourage you from engaging in sexual intercourse with him while pregnant."
Bella pouted.
Dear god, he did not understand this woman.
Distantly, the thought occurred that had she not been a virgin, had she had but a single sexual experience before this, she would not have been so eager to jump back on Marcus' deadly penis.
He hoped.
There was the thought, though, that he had come a very long way indeed from the seventeenth century, when he found the thought of young women having extramarital sex, nevermind multiple lovers, to be both appalling and tragic.
How far he'd come.
Another distant thought, namely that should she survive this pregnancy long enough to be turned, then she would resume her activities with Marcus, announced itself. And, god, then they would find out if Marcus's lovemaking consisted solely of impersonating a plank, or if the man had more to offer.
Carlisle supposed that for Aro's sake he really ought to stop having these thoughts.
Of course, if he did, well-
There was quite a bit he didn't want to think about right now. Contemplating Bella's disastrous set of circumstances she refused to acknowledge was easier.
"Another thing we should talk about," Carlisle said, as they continued to walk along the hallway - well, he walked, she hobbled. And while he felt bad for her, she should experience some consequences before she thought about jumping into bed (or pool) with Marcus again.
The trouble was she didn't seem to mind much.
"M-hm?" Bella hummed.
"Your human life," Carlisle said, and they entered the study Aro had sequestered himself in.
Aro looked up, and tried to smile at Bella.
He failed.
God, the look in his eyes, that devastated and incredulous look really said it all.
Carlisle… He would admit that there were many feelings he was repressing right now. Many, awful, feelings that he had decided he simply could not deal with. Had he been home, he imagined he'd be working dozens of shifts in a row, regardless of how inhuman it made him seem.
As it was, he was surprised he'd managed to hold it together, hold it off, for this long. Aro's expression though, looking at Aro, it was going to make it all come rushing back.
Bella sent Carlisle a questioning look, but sat down opposite Aro.
"Bella, I'll get right to it. Your life as a human, as Bella Swan, is over. You are going to become a missing person."
Bella looked serious, but did not seem in any way surprised by this. Of course, Carlisle now remembered that she had confessed entering Aro's program in Volterra with the belief that she might very well never leave.
Bella had likely long since prepared herself for her death or else disappearance from human society.
At once Carlisle felt deeply uncomfortable, horrified, in fact, by the ease with which she appeared to have done this. To his knowledge she'd consulted no one in her life, she'd lied to her mother and father from the very beginning, and she'd never once attempted to leave the city or even seemed uncertain over her position in the castle.
She had quite literally been willing to die for Marcus and the idea that he might, without ever having asked for it, need her.
Whether the same thoughts occurred to Aro was hard to say; perhaps he considered such details irrelevant in the face of what must be done. Regardless, Aro pressed on.
"And the problem is, you are a beautiful, American, white woman studying in Italy. The cog of the newswheel turns in mysterious, unpredictable ways, and one can never truly hope to predict which cases dwindle away, and which cases become sensations, highly publicized, and burned into the memory of a generation."
Aro paused, let his words sink in.
Bella chewed on the inside of her cheek, and looked like she might have asked something.
However, after a few seconds of silence it became clear that she wasn't going to, perhaps waiting until Aro was done.
"And as the Volturi, who define ourselves by secrecy and must above all be kept above the eye of suspicion, we cannot afford to have humans looking too closely into the disappearance of Bella Swan.
Which necessitates that you don't disappear."
Bella blinked at that. "I'm sorry, what?"
Aro smiled thinly. "Accidents, my dear Bella, are never investigated. At least, not beyond assuring that they are, in fact, accidents. But that's easy enough to fake," he mused.
Bella's eyes widened with realization. "Are you saying… you're going to fake my death?"
Aro grinned at her, placing his hands together. "Precisely."
"Oh," Bella said quietly, her eyes wide. "Um… how?"
"Oh, not to worry, I have it all figured out. But, ah, the reason why I'm bringing this up now, is somewhat…" he pursed his lips, searching for the term. Or perhaps it was a dramatic pause.
Either way, Carlisle saw his chance to speed things along.
(And, hopefully, knock the severity of the situation into her.)
"Bella, due to your rapidly developing pregnancy, we don't have the luxury of time. Bella, your condition is fine now, tomorrow it might not be."
Aro sent him a warning look, but Carlisle ignored him.
He sat down next to Bella, and looked directly into her eyes. "We need you to be seen publicly before your death, and to be in good shape as you're going to be acting normally, your usual self in every way, before your untimely passing. No one can suspect anything, and they will if you're obviously unwell in any way. Or unable to appear, period."
"And not visibly pregnant, of course," Aro added, "As that would certainly raise many a question."
Bella nodded slowly, worrying at her lip.
Taking a deep breath she noted, "I'm a terrible actress."
They both stared at her.
Aro slowly noted, "Bella, you fooled an entire castle of vampires into believing you had no idea they were inhuman."
"Oh, but that was easy, I just didn't let you know!" Bella said. "Uhh- not that it was easy, uh, it was very hard, actually. Why, I didn't think I could–" Aro fixed her with a look, and she stopped rambling.
She blushed.
"What I mean," she continued before Aro could take offense (though it was too late for that), "Is that I can't lie. At all. I can't do it. I can-omit details, leave things out, but I can't lie."
At their look of disbelief she added, "Try me, right now."
"Bella, are you pregnant?" Carlisle asked.
Bella sank in her chair, blushing furiously. "N-no," she stuttered.
Carlisle frowned.
"Have you had sex with Marcus?" Aro asked, eyes wide and disbelieving.
"Ye- no. Nope, not at all, um," she squirmed.
"Do you mean to tell me, that had I simply asked at that bus stop if you knew Marcus wasn't human, you would have said yes?!" Aro asked.
"No," Bella said, her face now the shade of a stop sign, furiously not looking at either Carlisle or Aro as she said it. Making it clear, of course, that she absolutely would have confessed to her knowledge to the first person who asked.
Aro gave Carlisle a look. "Unbelievable," he breathed.
Carlisle pursed his lips. "So then… we figure out a way for her to die where she doesn't have to say anything, doesn't have to pretend to be anything, she just makes herself a blank slate, and then let people project whatever they want onto her. As we did."
As she had, however unintentionally, done with Edward.
"If it helps I have zero friends," Bella added enthusiastically, "No one in this entire country will miss me."
"And more importantly, they won't know what you're usually like," Carlisle observed.
Aro exhaled slowly. "Back to the drawing board, then, I suppose. Carlisle," he said, making room next to him on the table, "I really hope you have any good ideas, because at the moment I'm blanking."
He shot a sharp look at Bella. "I'm still a bit wound up after learning my brother had sex with a certain someone," he added caustically.
"If it makes you feel better," Bella said, flushing furiously and refusing to look at him, "Then he told me to blame Carlisle."
"That does not make me feel better," Aro said, "Carlisle, does that, in any way, make you feel better?"
Carlisle opened his mouth to give Aro a witty retort, one that would in some way shift the blame on to Marcus, when he froze.
All at once, it struck him that he was in the wrong room with the wrong people.
Esme had run off before he could explain anything to her, demanding to be left alone, and then he had gone off with Aro to find Marcus, to demand an explanation. Which of course had led to the discovery that Marcus and Bella had been at it again. Then he'd had to do a health check on Bella, and then he'd ended up here.
And now he was talking to his lover, already decided on spending yet another night with him as they poured over various ways for a human girl to die accidentally.
Carlisle shouldn't be here.
"Carlisle?" Aro asked quietly, but it was clear from his expression that he knew exactly what was happening.
God, it'd been so instinctual. He could have left after Bella's exam, or at the very least dropped her off at Aro's study, but he'd stayed even though he had no reason to. He'd entered this room without a second thought, alone with Aro save for Bella's presence.
"Excuse me," he said, and it spoke volumes that he had to stop himself from walking across the table to touch Aro's hand.
A few seconds later he was outside his and Esme's door.
Esme's scent was strong. She'd returned then.
He knocked once, twice.
"Come in," she replied, more evenly than he expected.
He stepped through, only to blink in surprise upon finding her standing in the middle of the room, as opposed to in her chair.
She had the strangest look on her face, resolved, yet resigned, and there was something in her eyes that he had never, in their ninety years of marriage, seen before.
"Esme," he said, an apology on his tongue, except-God, he hadn't slept with Aro. He'd had no intention of sleeping with Aro, and yet he still felt the same guilt as if he had. As if he'd unconsciously betrayed both himself and Esme.
"I spoke with Sulpicia," Esme told him.
"Esme," he continued, "It was a very long time ago and-It's over now, all of it, and for all that I may have been acting strange lately, I swear, nothing is happening."
She only smiled, shaking her head lightly, making her caramel curls bounce in the air. "Carlisle, I– it's fine. I understand, or– I will, once I've processed."
"No, it's not fine," he said, "I should have told you."
Damn Bella for having been right.
He remembered what he'd thought then, how he'd insisted that he could keep it to himself, that Esme and the family need never know and that he'd kept it from them this long. Of course, he'd never accounted for Marcus and his-whatever had prompted him to say something like that in the first place.
Aro had refused to tell him Marcus' reasoning.
"I should have told everyone, I just-It never seemed like the right time, and I never thought that all of our paths would cross like this. It was a thing of the past."
God, he sounded so much like a cliché. Every word out of his mouth had been said by cheating husbands of yore, and he was only the latest in a long line of weak, unworthy, men reciting from the tired old script.
"Carlisle," Esme said, and, after closing her eyes for a brief second, as if praying for strength, she stepped forward to grab both of his hands. "I love you, and I treasure being your wife. I don't want to live without you."
She took a breath, seemed to steel herself, and Carlisle waited with dread for what she'd say next.
The end, he imagined. Oh, it seemed absurd given that he hadn't done anything, but nonetheless he instinctively flinched in the face of it. That she'd leave him here and now, no explanations required, no excuses wanted.
"Follow me," she said.
Wordlessly, she led him out of their room.
He followed like a man possessed, his feet moving of their own will without any input from him. He couldn't imagine where it was they were going, where Esme might take him in unfamiliar Volterra, but he followed all the same.
Then, he recognized the heavy, iron cast door that led to the stair heading up to the tower.
"Esme?" he asked hesitantly.
"I think you should speak with Sulpicia," she said quietly.
"Sulpicia?" he asked, and in dawning realization he said, "Ah, she-she knows, Esme. She always knew."
Esme nodded seriously. "I know. Like I said, I've already spoken with her. We had a long conversation."
Oh.
"She's rather nice. I like her," Esme mused.
Carlisle wondered, in sudden terror, if that meant Sulpicia had confessed to everything. If she hadn't, then Carlisle had to do it and do it now. He had no illusions that there were any secrets in this castle, not anymore.
But if Aro hadn't been enough to drive her out the door then this, surely, would.
"Esme," he said quietly, "I imagine she already told you this. But if she didn't, I can only imagine it was to give me the chance to do so myself. Ah–"
Esme cut him off. "I know, Carlisle."
"Ah," Carlisle repeated, feeling the words shrivel up and die in his throat, "She did?"
Esme nodded to herself one last time. "I think I'm very grateful to her, or, I will be, once the shock of it all has settled… once all of this is settled, really. This is– it's a transitional period, I suppose."
She pursed her lips.
"I don't understand," Carlisle said.
"Rosalie and Emmett are leaving."
He blinked, at first not processing this, and then realizing what this meant, "Esme."
"I told them to go. I, ah– told them a version of the truth, that it's very important, fateful, for our relationship, that they give us some time to ourselves. They're packing their things as we speak."
Which meant, of course, that they knew, at the very least they knew about Aro or suspected it. Emmett might not put two and two together, but Rosalie certainly would. Except, he could not imagine any universe in which she would retreat quietly.
Unless, of course, she felt this was the only way for Esme and Carlisle to keep their relationship afloat.
Though even then…
Had it been Edward, he would never have left.
"I think you should speak with Sulpicia," Esme continued, "And I-should speak with Aro."
Carlisle winced, he opened his mouth, about to note that Aro was incredibly busy tonight, only to close it. No, no, he couldn't say it. Not only would it look so bad, imply far more than was even true, but he had no right to say such things.
It was for Aro to turn Esme away, not Carlisle, who should have no say over the man's schedule.
So he only nodded.
Esme stepped forwards, and they hugged each other tightly.
He kissed the top of her head.
Then he went through the door and climbed the stairs to the tower, for the second time in only a day.
It was oddly nostalgic. The other day, headed up with Aro and Bella, it'd been anything but. He'd rarely climbed the tower with even Aro, as Aro tended to give the tower space, and it had never been for-well-a meeting of import.
More, the whole point in Carlisle climbing the tower had been… Well… It'd been to have sex with Aro's wife. As such, he'd usually climbed the stairs alone, as if to give the illusion that he and Aro had little to do with one another and he was here solely as Sulpicia's lover.
Except, of course, for the few times that Aro had come up with Carlisle so as to make it clear that Carlisle was not solely Sulpicia's lover. To be honest though… Carlisle tried not to think of those times much, it felt a bit like reflecting on the embarrassing follies of one's youth.
He still wasn't entirely sure he understood Sulpicia and Aro's tug of war and compromises over their lovers.
As he entered the main room, and Caius turned to give him a disgruntled look, the feeling of nostalgia strengthened.
Yes, just like the old times.
"She's in her room," Corin said pleasantly.
No explanation required. As usual. All at once, Carlisle was young again, only a recently turned vampire and the son of a priest who'd found himself in the most bizarre, scandalous, and torrid love affair.
He almost told the room he wasn't going to have sex with her, but thought better of it. They'd hear, anyway, that no sex happened.
So he stepped inside.
Sulpicia lit up at the sight of him. "Carlisle!" she cried in delight, and in a flash she was standing right before him.
He couldn't help but smile back at her. She truly was a wonderful woman. He remembered when he'd first heard of her, how he hadn't been sure what to think except try to squash the feeling of jealousy that Aro had a wife at all. Then he'd wondered when it was that they slept together when Aro was spending so much time with him, and felt a certain, ugly, kind of relief that Aro wasn't disappearing off to his wife.
She'd been… Well, she'd been even more of an anathema than Marcus then.
And now-he hadn't seen her in ages, of course, but his memories of her had always been very fond.
"Hi, Picina," he greeted her and swung her around in a hug.
She laughed in delight, her arms tightening around his neck.
Her smile was even wider when he put her back down.
"I've missed you ever so much, dear Carlisle," she said warmly, not taking her eyes off of his.
"And I've missed you," he replied, just as warmly.
And he had, he'd missed all of Volterra, he always had. Of course, he'd found something new in his work, his family, and his friends but-Volterra had always been a world unto itself and a treasured period of his life.
His smile then faded, as he remembered his reason for climbing the stairs, "Sulpicia-" he cut himself off, not sure where to begin.
She stared at him with wide, guileless, eyes. They were dark, as all the Volturi's currently were, a sign that Heidi would be returning soon.
He tried again. "Esme told me you two had a conversation."
She nodded. "Yes, we did. Your wife is a lovely woman."
He smiled briefly. "I know," he said, sounding choked even to his own ears. "She told me to come and see you," he said.
"Yes, I was hoping she would," Sulpicia said, then motioned over towards her table and the chairs surrounding it, "Have a seat."
He did, and felt oddly terrified.
It was tempting, ever so slightly tempting, to ask if Corin could come in.
"My dear Carlisle, it seems you are at a crossroads," she said. "Your marriage cannot continue as it has, but to salvage it will mean to change it. Like… like evolution, I suppose. Adapt, or die."
Ordinarily, before, Carlisle might be offended. Several had said this to him already, of course that was over his diet and the fact that Esme also followed it. Perhaps, he might have offered a quip, deflected and turned it about.
Now, however, her words were his stark and bitter reality. So, he said nothing.
"Esme has accepted this. If you can as well, then it is my belief that you two do have a future together."
The smile she gave him was eerily like Aro's in his more inhuman moments, in those moments when his bubbling and genial zeal gave way, shifted like a veil allowing the spectator to peak through and see just how ancient he was.
"I never meant-I am not unfaithful to her," Carlisle confessed, "I haven't broken my vows, I will never, no matter what history I've shared with others. And I feel ridiculous that I feel like I have even when I-"
"And that is very admirable," Sulpicia said, "But the heart wants what it wants, Carlisle, and we can't help who we love."
"I love my wife," he said, the words sounding hollow even to his own ears.
"Yes, but you also love my husband," she responded. "He loves you, and you both desire each other. If you were human, perhaps you and Esme could hobble along, force yourselves to make it work with half-measures and the power of will until you breathed your last, and the world around you and your failing human memories would provide enough distraction that you could pull through."
"But we have infinite time and we never forget," she said, "Regardless of your intentions, your stubborn nobility, you will not forget what you have here, and more importantly, your life with Esme will not be enough."
And again, Carlisle felt as if he had been transported back in time. No, he felt as if the Carlisle he'd once been had never left him, that the young Carlisle who had only just left Volterra was now rising to the surface and speaking through him, "It didn't work with Aro. I-I couldn't stay here, not with all the death, all the killings. We were destined to fail."
"You couldn't stay because you were young and wanted to meet like-minded people. And you did, you have your wonderful wife now." She reached a hand to squeeze his. "But you're still here, you still want Aro, and you are not content with Esme."
Wasn't he?
He thought he had been. Even a few hours ago, he thought he had been. He'd separated his life into Aro and Esme and thought himself content with that. And yes, he'd missed Aro, but it was something he could live with. Aro hadn't belonged in his new life, it had been that simple.
He'd thought it had been that simple.
"It's not a matter of love," Sulpicia said gently, seeming to know exactly what he was thinking, "I do believe you two love each other. But, Carlisle, I love Aro dearly as well. Just as I know he loves me."
She turned her head to look at the door leading to the main room. "Monogamy works for some. Caius and Athenodora, Marcus and Didyme - there are those who find it sufficient for all eternity."
"Didyme?" Carlisle asked slowly, the name unfamiliar to him.
And Sulpicia gave him a sudden, dark, look, "Marcus, you might say, loves so much and so deeply-it was not good for him. I hope, that were I to perish… I know that Aro would have you."
Carlisle opened and closed his mouth, searching for words.
"As it is, the death of Didyme left its scar on my husband as well. She was his sister, you understand." She squeezed Carlisle's hand again.
He'd… He'd never known Aro had had a sister. Not one he'd turned, at any rate.
He felt a sudden, hot, dart run through him. Panic, jealousy, and insecurity that he had not known something that sounded as if it had been very important. Only, he had no right to know it, and that he felt as if he had that right only proved Sulpicia's point.
If Aro had meant nothing, or if not nothing then he'd been only a thing of the past…
Would it have mattered?
Sulpicia, meanwhile, seemed lost in memories.
They were both silent for several minutes.
Carlisle turned over what had been said so far in his mind. He felt utterly exhausted, beyond emotion and his crippling self doubt.
Carlisle was still in love with Aro.
Such a simple, awful, sentence that was but still true.
He was in love.
He loved his wife, but he was in love with Aro, and everyone seemed to know it.
Even if he left Volterra, he would still be in love. It seemed he always would be.
"Picina," he said slowly, his voice thick, "what am I going to do?"
"I'm going to offer you the same advice I offered your wife," Sulpicia said instead.
Carlisle looked up at her, looked at her like a dying man in the desert looked at a fountain.
Rather than offer any words, she took his hand in hers, and brought it to her lips.
"Oh," he said dumbly, then the reality of what she was doing crashed on him, "Oh no, no, Sulpicia."
She got up from her chair, and pulled him up along with her, so they were standing toe to toe.
"Sulpicia, my marriage is in crisis. It's in crisis and I have not slept with Aro or you or anyone behind her back! I can't-"
"It's not behind her back," Sulpicia told him softly. "Esme and I talked, remember. We agreed. The only way for our marriages to survive - both our marriages - is if I take her husband as a lover, and she takes mine."
Carlisle could only laugh in hysterical despair.
The very idea that someone would approach Esme, and that-that she would agree the only way forward was that Sulpicia seduce Carlisle. And-
"Sulpicia, she said she was talking to Aro," Carlisle said in sudden, dawning, horror.
"Yes," Sulpicia said.
"No," Carlisle said in turn, his mind refusing to process it.
"If he knows what's good for him, he'll agree to it," Sulpicia said pleasantly, as if this were a perfectly ordinary state of affairs for them all.
Carlisle only shook his head, dread growing in his stomach. "Sulpicia," he said in horror, "You don't understand, Esme has-she has a history. I was not her first husband, she was married when she was human, and it was-There are words, terrible words, for what he did to her."
"Then who better, more kind, and sensitive, than Aro? My dear, you know his gift will not allow anything to happen to Esme that she doesn't herself want."
Carlisle didn't know how to confess that he, in fact, had never had sexual intercourse with Esme. That the idea of even asking her had been so unbearable he'd never broached the subject, never even dared, knowing what that man had done to her.
And she had been so happy, so utterly content, that he had known he made the right choice. That if she ever asked it had to be on her and her alone, that he could never even suggest the idea that-
The only thing more inconceivable than Esme sleeping with Aro, was Esme asking Aro to do it, when she never had Carlisle.
Sulpicia's large eyes searched his, they were closer than usual - she was standing on her toes.
"I gave her my vows," he said, shaking his head, "I promised that I would never betray her."
"But you're not," Sulpicia promised, "that's what I've been trying to tell you. And did you not also vow to keep and protect her for all her days, to make her happy?"
"And imagine, my dear Carlisle, if your wife does take my husband for a lover and you do not follow through. What will you say then?"
Oh, oh what would he say then?
He had no idea what he'd say to Esme, but even imagining what he'd say to Aro, who would have slept with his wife in a desperate attempt to undo the damage Marcus had so gleefully inflicted on them all...
And–
Sulpicia was right.
If Aro did sleep with Esme, it would be because she did want it. Aro was capable of a great many terrible things in the name of the Volturi, and as a vampire, but on a personal level – he would not take advantage of her.
The man was a raging homosexual, for crying out loud. Well, or a bisexual, he'd told Carlisle there had been women but Carlisle had never quite been able to envision it.
More… if there was anyone in the world would trust with Esme, then it was Aro.
And in an odd way, Carlisle imagined if he failed to do this, it would on some level be the same as if he had slept behind Esme's back. This was, in some odd, horrible way, meant to be his path to redemption, she had offered him this solution. If he rejected it then he was rejecting whatever path forward there was for their marriage. He was telling her implicitly that it could never work between them.
And yes, it all felt very fast, and yes he wished he'd had more time to talk but-what would he say? What had he said? He'd only had failed excuses, shame and guilt for actions not committed but feelings he couldn't seem to banish, and there'd been nothing he could do to explain any of it to her.
He let out a slow, shaking, breath.
Sulpicia smiled, her eyes sparkling as she could see in his eyes the answer.
"You always were so terribly dramatic," Sulpicia said fondly, "I am glad to see that has not changed."
Carlisle only sighed, and pulled her into his arms.
She sighed contentedly when he kissed her, and like the eye of the hurricane, this decision in the midst of all the madness that had been going on in the past two days felt like the right one.
(And yet still a part of Carlisle blamed Marcus for all of this.)