18

"I think I'm going to be sick," I muttered, swallowing against the taste of bile creeping up my throat.

Carlisle wrapped his arm around my waist and nestled me against him as we stood in the throng of people filling the aisle of the airplane. I brought my hand up to my chest, curling my fingers around the hem of my T-shirt. "You okay?"

"No," I admitted. It would have been easier to lie, to claim that I was fine and dandy, but I was too tired to pretend I had my shit together. Not just physically exhausted, either. Emotionally, mentally, I was done. "They're going to hate me."

Carlisle didn't deny the fact that my family would be angry at me for running away, for causing Peter's death by my carelessness. We'd spent most of the night talking, mostly about our fears and dreams, our hopes for the future — if we had a future. Carlisle claimed more than once that he loved me, that he wanted me as his wife, the mother of his children, but how could he when I broke my promise?

"Come on. Move already!" Carlisle groused, dragging his hand through his hair as he looked down at me. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not." Once more the lie left my mouth before I had time to process what I was saying. The moisture on my cheeks confessed my sins for me.

Though difficult, Carlisle turned toward me, his arm still wrapped around my waist, but his other hand coming up to wipe the tears off my cheeks. "Guess your eyes are just sweaty, huh?"

I pressed my lips together, unsure what to tell him, having already made too many mistakes, ones where forgiveness would never be given. "It's allergies."

"Fine, don't tell me. Not like I don't already know," he grumbled.

Before either of us could say anything more, the crowd started pushing forward. Carlisle moved so that he was in front of him, his hand reaching behind him to grab mine. My fingers automatically wrapped around his, clutching onto him for life. The tension and anxiety had my muscles aching and tears once again pooled in my eyes.

When we reached the tunnel leading to the terminal, the crowd began to dissipate as people rushed to make their connecting flights, or greet their loved ones, who eagerly await their arrival. Me? I was petrified about who's waiting for us — or who's not waiting for us.

"Wait." Carlisle pulled on my hand, leading me into a Starbucks. "I'll be right back."

I settled on one of the stools while he rushed up to the counter and ordered us each a coffee. When he returned to our table, he placed the cups on the table, but then pulled his cell phone from his pocket, sending off a text. He then placed his phone on the table and sat across from me, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Are you going to drink it, or just stare at it?"

Though his tone was light and fluffy, I could hear the underlining anguish. Carlisle wasn't any more certain about our future than I was, but neither of us was going to admit that we were scared. So, instead, I picked up the paper cup and brought it to my lips, taking a small sip of the caramel macchiato with extra caramel, and tried to smile.

"It's good," I said, quietly. "Who'd you text?"

"Alice," he murmured, clearing his throat.

I shifted my eyes up to his. "Why?"

"Um," he paused, "because you're already ready to turn and run, and I don't want her to scare you off."

"Oh. She's pretty pissed with me, huh?" I shifted in my seat, crossing my legs, wincing as my hip ached. The bruise from where I was thrown into a desk popped up quickly, as did the shadowing on my cheek, the handprints around my arms and neck. Though, I was lucky, right? He could have killed me. "Surprised she didn't come to Forks with you; give me a real telling off."

Carlisle smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "She wanted to, but I wouldn't let her."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Honestly?" he asked and when I nodded, he said, "When Jake called, said they'd found you, I . . . I wasn't sure if you were going to be the same Isabella that I fell in love with."

"Am I?" The question tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop it and I knew the answer long before he shook his head. "Yeah, didn't think so."

Carlisle reached for my hand, which I willingly gave. His fingers toyed with the wedding rings on my fingers. "I understand why you left, but that doesn't make it easier. I love you, Isabella. I want forever with you, but we can't have that if you've got one foot out the door. The boys deserve better than another mother leaving them out of fear."

Sliding my hand out from his, I picked up my coffee and took another drink. "I don't know what to say. The boys . . ." Tears pricked the corners of my eyes and I blew out a deep breath to keep from crying. The last thing I needed was to make a fool of myself in the middle of an airport Starbucks. "They deserve better than me."

"Do you love them, Isabella?" he asked, and I shifted my attention back to him. "Or me? Do you want a life with us?"

"Yes, yes, and Hell yes!" I grabbed his hand, pressing our wedding bands together. "I love you, Carlisle. I just . . . I got scared. Every time we let our guards down, he was there. He wasn't going to stop until he got me, and he wouldn't let you or the boys get in his way. I'm selfish, I know that, but I couldn't stay and watch as he took everyone I love away from me."

Carlisle sighed. We'd hashed out the same argument too many times over the last twelve hours. He'd sworn over and over that he would have killed Gabriel Varner/Aro Volturi, and by leaving without a word, I'd betrayed him. And no matter what I said, how hard I defended myself, the pain of my actions would never be forgiven.

Carlisle's phone chimed with a new text message. Tugging his hand out from mine, he picked up his cell, a frown tugging on his lips. He typed out a quick response before sliding out of his chair, picking up our coffees, and tossing them in the trash.

"We'd better get going. The boys are getting restless," he said, offering me his hand once more.

Biting the inside of my lip, I slid my fingers across his palm and stood up, knowing eventually I was going to have to face the family I'd left. It didn't matter that I wanted to protect them, that I feared their safety more than my own. I'd abandoned them when they needed me.

Carlisle led me through the airport to the baggage claim. We didn't have any luggage. Carlisle had stopped at a Walmart and bought us some sweats and tees to change into, adding a pair of cheap flip-flops for me. I didn't care, though. I just wanted to go home, even if I wasn't welcomed.

Edward and Jasper were standing next to the set of sliding doors with the boys in front of them. Tyler screamed, "Mommy," and took off running toward me, leaping into my arms. The tears I'd fought to keep from falling, poured down my face as his arms and legs locked around me.

"I missed you, Mommy," he added, burying his face into the side of my neck.

"I missed you, too, sweetheart," I cried, ignoring the pain in my hip.

I shifted my eyes to Michael, who had one arm wrapped around Edward's thigh, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. His eyes were red and puffy, his face flushed, and I hated that he hadn't rushed to me the way his brother had. Though, I shouldn't have expected any different. Michael had always been the more leery of the two.

"Hey, Michael," I said, softly, hoisting Tyler up as I reached for him. "I'm sorry."

Michael shook his head and took a step backward, causing the sliding doors to open. "You promised to be my mommy, but you lied. I don't like you anymore."

And before anyone could say anything, he wrapped his hand around Edward's and pulled him out of the airport, leaving me, Carlisle, Tyler, and Jasper standing in awkward silence. Placing my hand on Tyler's back, I tried to hide the hurt his words had caused.

"Guess I deserve that," I whispered.

"Yeah, you do," Jasper said, drawing my attention to him. "We would have fought to the death for you."

"That's why I left," I told him. "I didn't want you to get hurt, Jasper. You saved me once, but you couldn't save me this time."

Jasper shook his head. "You didn't give me the chance."

"You think it was easy?" I asked. "Leaving was the hardest thing I ever did, and it cost someone I loved their lives. But he wasn't going to stop; he wasn't going to give up until he had me in his arms. He's taken everything from me, Jasper. Everything!" I screamed, causing Tyler to cry as he wiggled out of my arms and rushed to Jasper.

Carlisle wrapped his arm around my waist, his fingers gliding along the bruise on my hip.

"I'm selfish. I didn't want you to die. Guess that makes me a bitch." I pulled myself out of Carlisle's arm. "Be angry with me. I don't give a fuck anymore. Won't be the last time I disappoint you."

Dragging my hands through my hair, I turned and walked out of the airport, finding Edward and Michael standing next to Carlisle's Mercedes. I knelt in front of Michael, who refused to look at me as I placed my hands on his shoulders.

"I'm sorry that I broke my promise, but one day, I hope you'll be able to forgive me. I will always love you, Michael, and I will always be your momma."

And leaning forward, I pressed my lips against his forehead, knowing I would have to prove myself to this little boy.

—TW—

"Are you planning on sitting out here all night?"

Sighing, I turned my attention from the vast ocean laid out in front of me to the man leaning against the door frame leading into the beach house. Carlisle hadn't said much as he drove us home. The tension inside the car had been palpable, so instead of going inside and spending the evening with the boys either glaring at me or in my face the entire time, I settled out on the porch, needing a moment to myself. Of course, that moment turned into three hours.

"Maybe," I murmured, turning back to the ocean. "Are the boys asleep?"

"No," he said. "They're brushing their teeth. Tyler wants you to put him to bed."

"All right."

I slipped my feet of the edge of the chair I was sitting and stood up. Before I could pass by him, though, Carlisle wrapped his arm around my waist, nestling me against him.

"I need to hold you for a minute," he whispered, his other hand coming up to rest on the top of my back.

"I didn't think you'd want anything to do with me," I admitted, shifting my eyes up, gasping as his normally crystal blue eyes were dark and smoldering. "Carlisle."

"I love you so fucking much," he murmured, his tongue sliding across his bottom lip. "Did he kiss you?"

I had barely moved my head from side to side when his lips were on mine, his tongue invading mine with determination, want, and need. My heart beat frantically in my chest, my lungs burned for air, but my body protested the desire to let him go. I needed him more than he wanted me, more than he desired the feel of my body wrapped around him.

"Mommy!" Tyler screamed from his and Michael's bedroom.

I pulled away from Carlisle and rushed into the house and down the hallway. Tyler was sitting in the middle of his bed, his arms crossed in front of him and an annoyed look on his face. Michael lay on his side, facing the wall, but I could tell he wasn't asleep. He hadn't spoken a word to me since the airport, not that I blamed him. He'd been the oldest, his brothers caretaker for too long.

"Hey, sweetheart." I tried to smile as I walked over to Tyler's bed, sitting with him on my lap. "Ready for bed?"

"I'm not sleepy!" he whined, shifting so that I was holding him like an infant. "Are you going to be here tomorrow, Mommy?"

"Yes," I whispered. "I'll make you breakfast."

"Will you make waffles?" he asked, his eyes lighting up with hope.

"Sure. With chocolate chips." I looked over at Michael. "Would you like that, Michael?"

No response.

Sighing, I turned my attention back to Tyler. "Let's get you in bed."

Though reluctant, he slipped beneath the covers. As I tucked the blankets around him, he said, "Grandpa died."

I inhaled a sharp breath. "I know."

"I miss him," Tyler whispered.

My lips trembled and tears flooded my eyes. "Me too. He was a good grandpa."

Tyler nodded and rolled onto his side, nestling his teddy bear against his chest. "I love you, Mommy."

"I love you, too." I leaned down and kissed the side of his head before moving over to Michael's bed. His shoulders shook with his tears — tears I would never be able to soothe. I'd fucked up, I'd hurt him, and — for now at least — he wasn't able to forgive me. And that's okay. He was allowed to be angry.

"Goodnight, Michael. I love you."

And even though he didn't reply, I knew he heard me.

Carlisle was sitting on the edge of our bed when I walked into our bedroom. He reached for me, and I found myself melting in his embrace. He laid his head on my chest, his arms wrapped firmly around my body.

"I didn't think I was ever going to be able to hold you like this again." His confession rolled off the tip of his tongue like acid. "I have to bury my father."

"I know," I whispered.

Carlisle tilted his head backward, looking up at me. "Don't leave me again."

"I won't."

As the words left my mouth, I hoped that I'd never have to break my word again.