Thank you so much for your lovely reviews! I promise you, your loyalty will soon be rewarded! These few chapters have taken a lot of effort to get right but I know that they should pay off. I just hope this is a mutual agreement.

Thank you so much for your amazing comments, please feel free to them them once more and as ever- I hope you enjoy!

P.S- Please forgive me?

The first three days I cope so well that Edward takes to texting Carlisle. Much to both my grievance and jealousy.

Sunday:

He phones me later than expected on Sunday evening, guessing that the both of us were very much waiting for his call. But it was late and from just the sounds of it, he was easily regretting his decision to take an afternoon flight. His exhaustion sings through his tone and though I was eager to know every detail of his evening since leaving him- it was clear that he just didn't have the energy.

'I'm sorry for the late call.' He tells me honestly, yawning against the receiver and groaning at what I can only imagine is him stretching against something.

'Don't worry about it, Carlisle. We're glad you arrived safe. Was your flight okay?'

'Hmm?' He asks, dazedly.

'Flight, Carlisle. Any explosives?' I look to Edward whose sitting on the sofa, listening to the reply with less than a care about him. He waits a few moments to shake his head at me, his hair copper under our light and his eyes purpled with tiredness. I'm still waiting for the reply.

'Huh? Oh no. No, not that I know of.' He says softly, his words heavy with sleep.

'Well what's your hotel like? Is it really posh?' I'm imagining a bath big enough for four with a luxury bed and chiffon curtains around the side. Almost like a tropical theme.

'Yeah…'

'Carlisle?' I ask, impatiently. I should hang up I should grant him his sleep but I'm far too selfish.

'Sorry, sorry.' He sighs, and there's a sudden thump of a bag against a floor. 'I am listening.'

He's not very convincing.

'Did you not sleep on the plane?' I quiz, fiddling with a loose thread from the jacket as I imagine him scratching at his face, his jaw, scrubbing his eyes to make him seem more alert. It's a good three minutes before he answers.

'Didn't sleep on the plane.' He clarifies drowsily. 'I've got a bit of a headache, too. I'm sorry, Hon. Is it okay if I phone tomorrow instead?'

'Yes, of course.'

'I'm really sorry- I'll explain-' He cuts himself off with another yawn. 'Excuse me. I'll explain it all tomorrow, it's just been manic.'

'Goodnight, Carlisle.'…

'Mm. Sleep well, Hon. Give my apologies to Edward.'

And just like that, the call ends. I look up again to Edward who still refuses to look at me as he continues his game on his phone, seeming irrationally bored in my presence. I can only guess that's due to having to drop Bella off back home. He's been quiet ever since.

'Do you have work tomorrow?'

'Not until Tuesday.' I reply. 'Nursery in the morning and the bar in the evening.'

'Is this why you made me stay up till three in the morning for a twenty-second phone call?' He inquires sarcastically, his green eyes looking darker in the shade.

I don't say anything. Which is fine because everyone is tired enough that we can sleep easily without reference to our missing landlord.

Monday:

Monday morning is quiet without him. During the morning, I can just pretend he's at work, which he is. I tell myself the lack of signal on his phone is him to being unable to catch a break from his rounds. Which is believable. And then I spend the day attending my lectures, certain... appointments and such before returning home and painting my submission piece, waiting for the phone to ring. It doesn't. It beeps:

Today's been an absolute disaster, too. I'll explain all tomorrow? I'm sorry to let you down.

All clear and herpes free,I want to text him. Instead, I delete the message and read his words over and over again until I can hear him say them.

Edward is late home this evening. He's been fussing about his essays which is why he's locked himself in the local town library till late. Unfortunately it means that when the door opens at twenty to midnight- we both jump out of our skin. At my half-scream, he drops his laptop to the carpet, glaring at me before bending to give it CPU first aid. It's fine. It's just him with the temper.

'Jesus, Edward! You frightened me!'

'Sorry.' He murmurs and out of exhaustion he throws himself to the sofa, head falling backwards against the cushions, kicking his feet upwards and his trainers with it. While he's busy peering at this afternoon's call for attention, I double lock the door.

'Looks good, Es.' He says, pointing absently to the piece in the middle of the room.

This disruption is the first time since late afternoon that I've stepped away from my work. My hand is cramping up from holding the same position for so long and when I turn on a back lamp- I finally see the piece in full-glory. Well. It's only a torso piece. It makes me even more disappointed and because I can't keep my mouth shut, I sigh loudly.

'What's up with it?' He asks out of duty.

I drag my index finger across the opaque face, the dark sinister eyes, and the sharp cheekbones. The paint is dry against my skin, flaky almost with the forest behind still damp with the cold colours of my palette.

'It's nearly finished.'

It is finished. There's nothing else to finish painting apart from a few touch ups here and there. It would've been better if I'd stuck more to the original piece. At least the image on my computer is serving as a good example.

'That's good isn't it?' He guesses, confused.

'Yes.'

He seeks my expression from the corner of his eye. I tilt my head to the side to see it from a better angle. To see the darkness, the greed, the guilt, the sin. The smirk. My hands ache to shred the paper to pieces. I hate it. It's infuriating because it's such a monstrous image. It's not him at all- it was never meant to be him. I hate that this is the image I've decided to piece him into. It's just so false?

And it's stolen his outrageous good looks.

'Has he called?' He asks tentatively. The way he asks it is incredibly patronising. In that very sickly tone proving he can already guess the answer. This time it's me who refuses to look at him and with my attention on the original photograph to my right, I surrender a tough answer.

'He's been busy.' I say with a forced shrug.

'Oh.' He says, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. 'Have you eaten?'

Why do they treat me like such a child?! I glare at him, holding both ends of the paintbrush in my palms to avoid the temptation to aim it like a dart through his spine. It's not even the act of him asking, it's the asking of stupid questions when he clearly knows the answer. He can see it and still he has to ask.

'Have you?'

'No.' He says honestly. I hadn't expected that response. I frown at him. He frowns back.

'Oh? Are you hungry?'

'Sure.' He says with a smile. And I take back my guilt to replace it with the art of distraction. I could deal with being the sitter but not the baby.

So I cook something simple for the both of us and do my best to swallow the contents even though it's nothing special. Edward is similarly quiet in my presence and even though he's just a few years younger than me, it feels insanely like he's trying to look after me. It should be sweet but it's getting on my nerves

'You'll have it done by tomorrow, I reckon.'

Edward's wrong. The moment he trudges to bed, I stay up a little later to add the finer details, catching the ends of the canvas and staring at it until I can't bear to look at it anymore. It's no accident that I forget to take a photo of it, I chose not to and leave it to dry beneath the piano. That way it's hidden from sight.

Tuesday:

I don't sleep well that night. It's the first night of many. I lie awake for hours, laying in his bed because I can't trust mine, curling up against the pillow and trying several times to force myself to sleep. It doesn't work and by the time morning comes around, I've lulled myself into a sense of dormant frustration, waiting patiently to start my shift and ignoring Edward's constant texting.

The children at the nursery are good fun and though I'm not particularly noisy today, I'm happy to teach a few of them to draw silly portraits, showing them the different colours and making new ones to their amazement. Their entertainment is the only thing keeping me cheerful and by lunchtime, I seem to have found something to feel good about. Their enthusiasm for my approval.

My phone goes off:

I keep trying to get through but it's not connecting. I'll try again tonight. So much to tell you!

But everytime I try reply, I keep getting a notification saying it hasn't sent. I keep pressing that stupid send button until I turn the damn thing off so that it stops me from throwing it across the wall. One of the younger kids has spotted me hiding in the corner just then, messy hands raised towards me as an instruction to wash them and even his grin isn't enough to cheer me up.

Regardless of the stress of one painting, hanging out with the kids and getting paid for it does cheer up my spirits quite a bit. Alice has also sent me a message to tell me she's missing me and because I feel particularly lonely, I tell her the same.

The bar is slightly more stressful but pretty much the same job as the nursery: keeping an eye on people and what they put in their mouths. It's quiet for a Tuesday night which is a relief because I can't be arsed to be polite today. It's only the regulars and a few students in meaning that while I don't have to talk to anyone- I'm still incredibly productive in terms of the maintenance work I get done for the pub.

'Give the boys my love.' Stacey tells me as I leave for the night, handing me a payslip with her sharp writing on it. I smile, promise I will do and start the walk home at the dead of night. It's pitch black out here and cold but it's making me feel less like I'm going to suffocate in my boredom.

A horn blares.

'Get in the car.'

'Edward?!' Shuddering, I steal a vigorous breath into my lungs and try to rub the life back into my shoulders. He shakes his head at me, rolling his eyes dramatically at my anger. It's his car, half the reason I don't recognise it, and looks like the front has been dented into a lampost.

'Obviously?'

He pushes the door open with a foot so that I can climb into it. He can't see because it's buried beneath my exhaustion, but I'm irritated again.

'I was going to walk home?' I tell him through gritted teeth. I have to address him this way: I'm worried that if I speak freely, I'll freak and he'll be able to hear my teeth chatting together.

It's actually a lie, I was going to run home. But fine.

'I guessed that from the car on the drive.' He says, fiddling with the radio channel. It takes everything I have not to roll my eyes. He looks over and shakes his head. 'Don't give me that look, I was being polite.'

'Stop babying me!'

'I'm not babying you.' He says with a frown and just when he thinks I'm not listening, he mutters under his breath: 'Carlisle is.'

'Believe or not, I'm perfectly capable of walking myself, Edward!'

'Don't shoot the messenger.' He says, raising one hand from the wheel innocently. I won't just shoot him, I'll shoot the man in question, too. 'Have you-?'

'Yes! Yes, I've eaten!' I interrupt him, grumpily sinking in the seat and folding my arms in hopes it'll stop me yelling at him. He sniffs in an attempt to hold his laughter and focuses on the road.

At home, he almost deliberately pisses me off now he's suddenly picked up the art of texting but I know that's pathetic so I don't say anything. Quite literally- I bite my tongue.

'I take it he hasn't phoned?' Edward asks cautiously and it's almost like he's being nice for once- until I see the smirk. It makes his tone even worse.

'Connection failure.'

'Ah.'

Tonight's tactic for sleeping seems to go far worse than the others. I'm at the nursery again tomorrow, coincidentally when Edward wants me to chat to Bella, too. Which is why she's picking me up from work. So I shower in the boiling heat, I scrub at all aspects of my skin until it's sore and worriedly judge my ailments before slamming the door. Now, however, I'm facing the wall connecting my room to Carlisle's with hesitation.

It felt unnatural sleeping in Carlisle's bed without him. Or rather, laying in it. Even with the soothing scent of his cologne and his soap trying it's best to bring some familiarity to my routine. There's just something that feels oddly guilt inducing about being in his bed. My bedroom is worse however. It's cold. It's still odd, it feels weird and ever since our visitor, I don't feel like trusting my mattress. Even if Alice did the honourable and proved its safety.

So I scrunch out my hair, pull on one of his T-shirts and wait patiently for the phone to ring. It doesn't. Or by the time it does, however, I'm dead to the world.

'Can't you just buy another cell or something? It's getting ridiculous!'

Wearily, I open one of my eyes and listen to Edward pacing along the landing.

'It's the first time in ages, Carlisle, she looks half dead. I don't think she's sleeping well.'

There's a gentle pause filled with the whining of what can only be presumed to be our landlord. I try to pull myself up, to go running outside and snatch that phone right out of Edward's hands but I'm in quite a bit of pain from today and all I want to do is lie here in my misery.

'Are you out of your mind?' Edward hisses. 'I'm not suggesting that- she'll eat me alive!'

Of course it's Edward who gets the working phone. Jeez, it's like he's deliberately avoiding me.

'Well try harder, she's freaking me out!'

It's difficult to try and gather the conversation but it's too obvious it involves me. I hear Edward grimacing, making some comment under his breath about refusing and then the door hinges squeak slightly.

'This is fucking perverted, you know that?'

I close my eyes the moment I hear him in the room and try to seem asleep. Either Edward's a fool or he understands me more than I know because he keeps a distance and sighs.

'Yeah, she's asleep.'

Hardly.

'I don't know, Carlisle! Try phoning her.'

This time I hear his words as clear as a bell: 'I'm trying!'

'Look, why don't you try in the morning? She's got lessons early on but she'd probably be pleased to talk to you.'

'Yes- I know, Carlisle.'

'Alright, I get it! Can I go now?'

'Okay-well I'll hopefully speak to you tomorrow. Night'

For the second night in a row, I don't sleep at all.

The fated Wednesday:

Wednesday is when I'm no longer at peace. Wednesday is when I finally crash down six mountains, four skyscrapers, a few bridges and just to top it off, the Berj Khalifia. Today is not going to be a good day. The reason being that everything that could go wrong, does.

I've looked at flights times and we might be out of luck- Especially because I've been asked to attend an important meeting. Forgive me?

I phone Carlisle six times. At least to put his guilt at ease. To appease my misery. To give reason to this never ending torture. It goes straight to answer phone. So I dress tiredly, hiding in a big coat and go to a seminar which I very nearly miss. The class is difficult on no sleep, made worse by the fact I can't quite focus on what the discussion is even though I've spent hours finally doing the required reading.

'Hey, Esme?'

I turn to my lecturer, rub my eyes and smile politely. But he doesn't smile back, he looks at me diasppointedly and shakes his head as though I'm a child.

'It would be great if you'd actually contribute once in a while, you know? You're just wasting your time otherwise…'

And though he's perfectly right, I'm so mad that I drive to the nursery in a strop. The kids are just as brilliant as ever but it's not the children taking advantage of me today. It's every adult surrounding them.

'I just want to leave her here just quickly while I grab some shopping?' One of the mothers says cheerily, thrusting her screaming little one into my arms.

'I understand that, Mrs Peckham but it's against regulation. No child under two is-'

'Oh you'll be fine! You're such the mothering type. It'll give you plenty of experience!' She says cheekily and before I can even find one of the managers to help defend my point, the mother is off and I've suddenly struck up the illegal responsibility of nanny in a professional environment for five years olds.

It gets me into serious trouble, of course.

'Do you know how irresponsible it is to accept somebody's-'

'I know.' I interrupt Julie, guilty. 'I know, but I had no choice. I tried to argue-'

'It's not good enough, Child! Do you know what you're risking?! This whole business not just the children's safety-' Apparently my face is more emotive than I meant for it to be because she stops yelling and curts her head at me, furious. 'Consider this an official disciplinary, Esme. You're a professional- Not some kind of mother-for-hire!'

She takes the child from my arms, leaves me with a few bits of paperwork to sign before storming out the office and leaving me to stare at the paper blankly. The worst part about her fury being that she's also right. Which is why I'm so angry still. Though at this point, it's not just anger. I'm so frustrated, so wound up and worse than that- I'm humiliated. Just as I'm hitting rock bottom, when I'm so overcome with the need to sleep that I think I'm going to faint, or vomit, or both, my phone rings. My hands don't act fast enough. They're clumsy and awkward and won't press the right buttons as I instruct.

'Hello?!' I all but yell.

'You want to know the good news or the bad news?'

Edward. It's Edward and though it's out of order- I'm incredibly disappointed. It's unusual for him to contact me at work (or contact me at all, to be fair) and the way he opens the conversation with such a cautionary tone has my back up. Leaning against the wall for support, I throw back my shoulders and wait for the inevitable.

'The good and only the good.' I say stiffly.

'Ah.'

I groan, fearing the next comment that is ready to tumble out his mouth.

'You see it was a trick question. There's only bad news.'

'Go from the least important to the most.' I beg weakly.

'Carlisle's in hospital?'

'What?!'

'You said least serious, he is a doctor after all'

'Edward that's not funny!' And the fantasies of strangling him to death cloud my mind in such a beautiful array of violence and hurt. I'm so obviously not in the mood for his bullshit!

'Okay but seriously. You've got five missed calls. One from the hospital: A Doctor Browning wants to you to contact her?'

'Next.' I dismiss quickly. I hear him hesitate.

'Carlisle tried to get a hold of you, too. He's still struggling to catch your cell...The others are from the coffee shop…'

It was only typical for me to miss another message from Carlisle. My heart sinks, my teeth gnawing at my lips while I fight with my other decision. 'And?'

'Apparently they're desperate for you to work but I said you couldn't do it.'

I find the nearest chair, just a small kid's one in the cloakroom and settle down into it to try and save my back. 'Thanks, Edward.'

'I get the impression they're not pleased…'

I didn't want to hear that.

'That's the bad news, right?' I say hopefully, checking out one of the doors to see if I can spot the clock. It's not quite three.

'Yes well, secondly… Emmett kind of had an accident…'

For a moment, I wonder if I'm on some reality TV show and someone is going to burst out and call me gullible in a second's time. I wait eagerly.

''Hey! It was your shot- don't even try it, you pussy.''

'Edward!' I complain. 'What's wrong?!'

'We might've smashed a window?'

I pinch my under eyes and breathe through my nose. 'What window?'

'The living room…?'

'You better get it sorted and sorted now, Edward! Eurgh I can't believe you!' If it was acceptable to scream at him- I might just do so.

'If you didn't like that then you're really going to hate me now….'

Up until now I'm sure I don't know what frustration is. I try to unclench my teeth but it makes me angrier.

'The washing machine is broken.' He sighs, guiltily. I'm surprised I don't burst into tears because that's the kind of thing I want right now. I want to cry and scream and break shit.

'But I've got so much washing to do!' I whine.

'…Sorry?'

'You know what- just. Just get the fucking window sorted. I'll speak to you later.'

'Sorry.' He apologises again, sounding particularly like he doesn't care but I hang up. I hang up and I hit my head against the wall because I can't bear to even think about handling any more responsibility when all I want to do is curl up and talk to Carlisle.

But I can't even do that. So at the very least I try to text him: I bet you your car that by the end of this week, I would've decorated the house in Edward's blood.

That's a lose: lose situation for me. He texts back and in pure blissful gratitude, I hurriedly phone him. Straight to dial tone. He sends me another text before I get a chance to. It's still not connecting properly. If it's not fixed by six, I'm walking back. I miss sleeping at home.

I feel like telling him I miss sleeping full stop. Or further- that I miss him. But it reads so badly when I type it out that I can't bear to send it. It probably wouldn't go through anyway. So I read his message again, using it as the only source of sanity I have left until I continue my shift right up until the moment Bella's truck picks me up.

It's not a bad truck. Sure, it's an eyesore and it doesn't help the disastrous headache I've been trying to silence for the last hour but she drives it well and she doesn't feel the need to fill the air with noiseless chatter. But I still have a duty to be honest with her.

'Bella, I'm going to be honest… I don't really understand why I'm here or why it's me but because I promised to do it as a favour to Edward, here I am, okay?'

I feel like I should add that I don't want to be within three steps of Edward right now but I don't think that'll win me favours. She looks wildly confused for a moment, stuck in her own concerns before widening her gaze sympathetically.

'Oh, Esme! Please don't feel like I'm pushing you out? That's the very least of what I wanted.'

I can't help it- the lack of sleep in my brain leads first to confusion, then panic and lastly, I'm actually heaving.

'Pushing me out?'

'I want you to be as present as you are now.' She says with a smile. 'We want you here?'

... Err?

'On the contrary Bella. I don't really want to be involved. At all. It isn't my place.' Ew, ew, ew, someone pass me a bottle of cyanide and some kitchen bleach. I don't want these images in my brain anymore.

'How could it not be your place, Esme? You're a part of it just as much as Rose and I am!'

Rosalie? Oh my God-. They're like a thing?! What?

'Rose?'

'Granted she hasn't been there as long as Alice might have been but I like to think we could all come together.'

I'm trying to distance myself as much as possible from her, wrenching my ass so near the car door, I'm moments from hurtling myself out the window. I have no idea what to do. My hands are shaking, my phone curled in my grip but even at this moment I can't even think about sharing the gossip with Carlisle. Alice and Edward? Oh Jeez, it's like incest- ew!

'I don't want to come together?' I tell her politely and I'm amazed I found a way to bury my disgust.

'I know how you feel, Esme. I can't help but be a little territorial, too, sometimes. But I just want you to know that I would never take this away from you-'

'It's not territorial! It's yours. All yours. Leave me out of it.' I announce loudly. This is so fucking weird- just get me out of this car right now!

She's parked up now outside a large two-story house with a cop car beside it. The idea cringes me out. Her dad a cop while Edward and the rest of my friends frolic about- oh Jesus, my stomach feels so queasy.

'Have I done something to offend you?'

'No.' I cringe. 'Of course not.'

'You do…like me right?' She asks, panicked.

What the fuck.

'Urm? Look, Bella. I'm not- well, it's just that- err.'

For a second I think she might cry, she's watching my face so patiently, hiding her hurt so well that my head pounds. I've just got to say it quickly.

'You're a very beautiful person, Bella?' This sounds so bad- Goddammit, I didn't need to be enlightened to this. I could've lived happily in ignorance. She frowns.

'I mean- you're stunning and I can see why-. Well the fact that Edward… Err. Okay, look I'm not into that. I'm kind of a one-person gal, if you get me?'

She tries to not look hurt but the way she flinches tells all.

'And you'll always be Alice's?'

No? What? Eurgh? What the fuck is she on?! What happened to the whole- your flatmate likes you?! Was that a warning?!

'Bella, no offence, you guys are great! But I wouldn't sleep with any of you. Ever.'

She looks at me oddly for quite a while. Until her cheeks light up, so boisterously red and so heated that I'm concerned she's going to explode.

'Sleep?' She repeats panicked.

The car door opens then, and with a scream, I roll backwards, leaping out of my skin as Alice waves a wine bottle into my face.

'And what time do you call this?! Girl's night was supposed to start an hour ago!'

Girl's what?!

Bella looks to me horrified, stepping away slightly as I stare at Alice's face. Girl's night?!

'Oh don't look like that, Es! I thought you'd be excited!' And jumping up to my height, she wraps her arms tightly around my neck and squeezes.

I've got a rubber dick in my bag for no reason? I have nearly gotten myself arrested, taking a fucking penis to a nursery with me- for a fucking joke?! Suddenly my chest feels like it's incapable of breathing.

The moment I see Edward I'm going to wrap my hands around that Son-of-a-bitch's-neck and kill him! This is the final fucking straw. Rose climbs down the steps just then, glass of wine in her hand as she all but stomps for my attention.

'Will you get back in here? Its cold!' She calls, lifting her glass with a cheer. I take one look at Alice, snatch the bottle out of her hand and crack open the top before taking a greedy gulp.

'That's my gurl!'

'Someone get Edward on the phone- now!' I demand, grabbing Bella by the arm and pulling her away from the girl's confused stares.

'Whatever I said in the car-' I begin hastily.

'What did you say in the car?' She asks, confused.

'Just-just-' I scrub at my forehead and sing several curses under my breath. 'It didn't happen.'

'Ookay?' She replies, nervously.

Thankfully, the girls are in a fantastic mood this afternoon and rather than ridicule my demands, Alice tries to get a hold of Edward as I dial and redial Carlisle's mobile, ignoring that same dial tone and trying again.

'Esme, what's going on?' Alice asks, confused. She hands me a glass of wine which I take gratefully and sits in the kitchen chair as I continue to pace across the tiled floor, one end to the other, pressing buttons.

She's tried Edward three times, calling our house phone multiple times and Emmett's but once Bella attempts to call him- I realise he's deliberately not answering. My hands are wrenched in my hair, tugging my fringe back as I take two steps left and then change. Always repeating. I haven't even had chance to admire Bella's house. It's homely and warm and I like the odd presentation of the kitchen because it feels unconventionally normal.

'Why are we phoning Edward?' Rose complains, clearly irritated by my interruption. Judging by the kitchen table, they had some sort of makeover planned. Which is not what I'm in the mood for. I can't even begin to understand how angry I am- I'm so infuriated by this Kid's utter bullshit.

I've drained my second glass and on the 26th time of the auto message telling me I can't be connected, I hysterically scream my furies into the shitty phone, abandoning all good posture and fuming until my throat hurts.

'One of you twisted bastards better answer the fucking phone before I ram it into your fucking guts!' I scream, caving to my knees on the floor and in a rage slamming the bottom of the phone against the tiles.

'Es?' Alice hums gently, her hands gently touching my arms in a sign of comfort. But I let my head hit the tiles, regardless of the angle, and welcome the further headache it brings while I internally scream as much as possible.

'What's going on?' Questions a stern voice.

And leaping from the floor I'm stunned to see who I presume to be Officer Swan watching me in confusion. There's something about his face which makes him seem angrier than he actually is, perhaps it is his expression, but I cringe away, pulling myself up to my feet like a child having a tantrum.

'Sorry, Sir.'

'What's with the screaming?' He asks us but he looks more to Bella at this moment who is looking as bewildered as he is.

'It's nothing, Officer Swan.' Alice reassures, smiling extra widely as she rubs my arm. 'Just Esme's had a tough day at work, that's all.'

Despite my humiliation, which frankly is enough to make me suffer eternally, I hold out my hand to him shyly.

'Esme Platt…' I murmur, hiding beneath my hair, slightly. He nods, blankly.

'You live with Doctor Cullen, right? You and Edward?'

'Yes, Sir.' I say softly, trying to hold myself up straight.

'Which is who you're trying to get a hold of?' He assumes, nodding to the withered pieces in my hand. Bella smiles at him then, proudly in a way I would probably look up to my Dad. The thought stings. Made worse by the fact he won't return her smile just yet.

'He's in Alaska.' I explain, shyly. 'It's been a struggle to get in contact with him since.'

He nods thoughtfully. 'Tried contacting the hotel?'

'We can't get through to them either.' Despite the fact that I'm not crying, I still have to sniffle a bit to gather my breath. He frowns, looking a lot like his daughter as he does so, and heads into the living room. Bella encourages me to follow as he roots around a few shelves and such, until pulling out a very old looking brick and turning it on.

I can't imagine the age of it, in fact it's probably young but it just looks so strange against the semi-modern TV and the watch on his wrist. Without even needing to ask, Alice is already filling up my glass again and though I should be exceptionally wound up- I can appreciate she's being exactly what I need at the moment.

So I take it like oxygen, drowning my responsibility until the anger and the frustration doesn't hurt as much anymore. Unfortunately, today is one of the days that I haven't eaten and the wine speedily hits my head, seeming to manipulate all these weird emotions into something even worse.

'Did you want to leave a message at the hotel reception or phone him first?'

'The reception please?' I ask, shakily, disbelieving the trust in the technology at his hand.

He fiddles with it for a moment before handing it to me. I hold it to my ear. It's ringing. Actually ringing in the correct tone and the correct sound and-.

'Hello, Mckinely Chalet resort. Miranda speaking, how may I help you today?'

For a moment, I'm so excited in forcing the words out that nothing happens, I just stutter.

'Hello?' She repeats.

'Yes! Yes sorry- hello. I was just phoning to see if a message could be left for one of your guests?'

'Certainly. Room number?'

'Four-oh-one.' I tell her breathlessly. Alice is watching me from across the coffee table, fingering my third empty glass as she desperately tries to understand what's going on. The other two are fussing about my head, shaking my arm to get my attention but I throw them off. Mr. Swan has returned to his football game in another room. 'The name's Carlisle Cullen.'

'Certainly. And what would be the message?'

I look at the girls. I look at them, at Alice's dreaded curiosity and my bravery falters.

'Urm. Could you, urm, could you just tell him… tell him-' Tell him what? 'Tell him not to get a plane. Tell him its fine.'

'If I could have the exact wording, please Miss?'

'Ah yes, of course. I'm sorry. Just tell him not to book a flight tonight- I'll see him when he's home.'

'And your name?' She asks politely.

'Esme Cu-. Platt. Esme Platt.'

Okay, what the actual fuck was that? But the girls haven't noticed and because they haven't noticed, I take a moment to thank my lucky stars for life.

'I'll send it up to him immediately then, Miss.'

'Thanks for your help!' and the phone clicks shut.

Today's devastation seems to dissolve around my limbs and though Alice is begging to be let in on what's happening, she also doesn't complain when I tell her to hush. Sighing heavily, I take another sip of my new glass. It's like a wave falling over my neck and shoulder, washing away today's stresses and replacing it with relief instead. Without hesitation, I punch in his number. It rings, the horrible ringing so ominous and so thick that it whines about my head forever.

And finally:

'Carlisle?!'

'Esme?!' The call of his tone, the precious sound of my name on his tongue is all that I can think about and in utter frustration, fresh tears fall to my face. They're noisy, falling in heavy droplets from my eyelashes and coating my cheeks in fresh moisture so that I have to hide behind my hands. 'Oh it's so good to hear your voice again!'

But I inhale staggered like and wipe the droplets off my grin, snivelling. I can't see Alice at the moment, I can't hear her and for now, I just assume she's let me be for once.

'Hon? Are you okay?'

'I'm drunk.' I tell him exhaustively, sighing in relief. 'I'm so drunk- I've had the worst day.'

Mistakenly, I expect him to be a little concerned, wound up by such a quick return to the dreaded waters, but he chuckles softly, the sounds comforting to my overreaction.

'I've been trying to call you so many times. Even when I get hold of Edward it doesn't last seven minutes before cutting out. But tell me what's up? What's happened?'

'Just everything- absolutely everything. Then this!'

'What's this?' He asks curiously, and though there's noise in the background, I can imagine him against an old battered sofa just like me.

'The reason I'm drinking Carlisle. You both mislead me!' Again! Though for someone who's meant to be mad, I couldn't be more joyful. Even with the face of tears.

'Oh Babe. I'm sorry- we just wanted to make sure you had a bit of time to enjoy yourself? Have a bit of a girl's night?'

Time to enjoy myself could have happily been a bubble bath and a book. But I'm so relieved to hear his voice, to feel his presence- I couldn't give a flying fuck about Edward. Or being lied to again. Or mislead- at least it was for good intentions this time.

'You wouldn't believe the absolute stress you've put me under all down to Edward's fantastical lie! And he won't answer his phone!'

'Have you tried-?'

'We've been calling him and Emmett for the past hour- he's gone into hiding.' I inform him, giggling slightly at the ridiculousness of it all.

'I can't blame him.' Carlisle chuckles. 'I think I would, too.'

'Do you even know what I've carried in my bag all day?! I took it to work, Cullen!'

The sound of his laughter is so refreshing that I completely mishear Alice wondering off in order to satiate her curiosity.

'But where are you? Are you having a good evening?'

'Ugh, I'm at a public debate over the expenses of a secondary unit. People are so angry here, I've been swung for twice.'

'You haven't been hurt?'

'No- no. Of course not. They've got some sort of party thing later, though. I have to make a speech.'

'Jeez, you're moving up in the world.' I say and even in my heavy slurring, I can feel the pride melt into my voice. The only thing that would make it better is to see his charming smile. To have him modestly try to deny it all the while smirking in his brilliant manner.

'I don't want to go. I'm dreading it.'

Stay on the phone with me instead? I nearly ask.

'You could always stay home and watch-'

'Ahh, yes. I'm glad you've brought that up, Miss Platt because-'

Eurgh, my name isn't the only thing I want his tongue teasing over at the moment.

'Fuck me, Esme! What the heck did you bring this for?'

Shit. I turn, behind me to see the three of them glaring at the contents of the bag. Alice is looking particularly tickled, Rose is laughing so loudly she's turned red and Bella is horrified once more. I pull a thumb across my neck to shut Alice up but she starts howling with laughter, both her and Blondie, waving the thing about-

Oh Jesus.

'Err, Carlisle? I might have to go-.' I've literally only just got a hold of him! This isn't fair- eurgh!

'Really? Are you okay?'

'Err, yeah. Edward's been rumbled.'

'Edwar-oh. Oh. Okay. Well… have a good night, okay? Look after yourself.'

'I'll talk to you soon, I'm so sorry.'

'Not to worry. I miss–er. I'll speak to you later, if you'd like? Might not be till late?'

'I'll be waiting. Good luck, Carlisle.'

The beep isn't as threatening as it was when I hadn't spoken to him for years and now that I have spoken with him- now that I've heard his voice and I've felt his warmth, I can turn to Alice. And I don't just turn to her, I lunge for her.

'Jeeez Esme, you don't have to resign yourself so quickly- we'll find you someone!'

'Alice, put it down!' And thanks the wine, I am in a great mood, laughing loudly as I attempt to snatch it off her.

'You've gotten that desperate, you take it to class? What kind of Kinky bitch are you?'

'Alice! If you don't put it back I won't tell why I have it!'

This catches her interest and in disgust, she drops it into the bag and shakes me head at me. 'Considering I thought you were going to scream at them what with you pacing everywhere, I'm bitterly disappointed by your lack of anger.'

I turn to Bella who is still probably the most confused out of all of them. So I'm going to get my own back. I will seek revenge in the best way.

'Edward wanted a bit of a lad's night.' I say to Bella and even though everyone clearly knew this, she watches me in confusion. 'And they were sure I'd refuse to grant them the house.' This sounds so much better than claiming I didn't want to see them 'That he came up with this desperate plan which involved giving you the talk so that I'd be busy.'

'The Talk?!' She repeats.

Thanks to the bubbles in my tired brain, I grab the bottom end of the dildo and deliberately shake it so that it wobbles. If possible- she looks even fainter than before.

'With a deliberate emphasis on contraception.'

Revenge is gloriously sweet.

'Er? And why wouldn't I be the expert?' Alice complains, folding her arms on her hips, her newly painted nails tapping along her jeans.

'Well, you're nowhere near as experienced as-'

'Hey, Bells?'

And throwing my arm into the bag, I zip it up and join Rosalie in her uncontainable laughter at Bella's expense.

The wine is both a great and a horrible choice. I'm actually enjoying myself, relaxing and having a bit of a blissful giggle without needing it directed to bedroom habits. Mainly because the bedroom habits it's directed to are the impersonal ones. And better yet, Bella is a good sport, taking everything in a far better humour than I would and – much to my surprise- actually learning.

Alice is doing her make up in the mirror, her hair perfect and spikey while I loosley curl Bella's so that it slips down her back gently. Rosalie is fussing with her make up- made worse by the fact we keep making her giggle, brushing a false pink right over Bella's cheeks that are already tainted with a natural blush.

'You know you've made it when you can get a condom on with your mouth.' Rose giggles.

It's nicer to be in Bella's room. Less nice in the sense that Alice is demanding for us to go out for a dance but still enjoyable in that after a small glass, Bella is hilariously giggly. The fact she's laughing at everything is putting me and Alice in stitches.

'With your mouth?'

'Rose is just showing off, Bella.' I reassure her, rolling my eyes at Rose but she cheers even louder and points to her rear-end.

'You're right. You use your ass.' Blondie laughs, opening one of the packets in question and blowing it up.

I shake my head at Bella on the sly and narrowly avoid Rosalie batting the latex in my direction.

'If you get lube in my hair, Rose, I'll kill you!' Alice curses.

'Which leads us to rule number one, Bella.' I warn, patiently, glass raised in the air with a knowing grin on my face. 'Never let them ejaculate in your hair.'

After potentially one of the worst days I've had to cope with, I laugh just as effortlessly as I would if I was warning Carlisle. But rather than make me miserable, the thought warms me up from the inside out and though I'm missing him immensely, it puts me in such a deviously imaginative mood that I can't help but think of such a suggestion across the phone line.

For the first time in four days, I am feeling shamelessly happy. This meaning that it's only with a slight air of reluctance, because I really am quite drunk at the moment, that I join them in getting ready, straightening out my hair and pulling myself into Rosalie's clothes though it hurts my waistline and further my sense of pride.

'See this is what you needed!' Alice reassures me, holding onto my arm as she drags us out to the cab on Bella's porch. The fact her dad is watching us leave is making me feel that little bit safer. Like I'm just a teenager again without all these horrible responsibilities and brain ache. And the thing is, she's right. I do feel better. So even if the boys had to lie just to get me out here, I am, admittedly, grateful...

'The giggling is fantastic, as is the wine. I could've done without this bit.' I tell her honestly but because I'm in a good mood I can give in to their begging and pleading and follow them to the nearest club without complaint. It's a nice club. Fancy looking with a purple and black colour scheme and smoke so thick you can't look through it sober. The music's good, too.

'Got condoms?'

'Alice, for the last time- I don't want sex!' And because this comes out in a giggle – due to it being an absolute lie- she throws her attention into pulling me about.

'At the very least- you can get us a drink.' And fondling with my bra straps to make my boobs look bigger, she pushes me towards the bar.

'Alice!' I hiss.

'You're the only one whose single- it has to be you.' I'm too drunk to deliberate on this comment so I shake my head at her and concede to her wishes. It's not the busiest club, so I have to search a little until I slide up to the guy on my left, with the dark hair and dark stubble and lean over the bar slightly.

'Say, Stranger, don't suppose you'll be happy enough to buy my lovelies and I, a catch-free drink?' This bit needs emphasis because I don't want to suggest anything remotely gross.

He turns towards me, frown cast low as he take in the suggestion of my tits- and even in such a drunken stage as this I regret it. I regret it and I pull up my posture, readjusting my jacket to cover myself. Behind, I can hear drunken booing from my friends. He looks so familiar, his eyes are so dark that it seems to wipe away the sudden amusement from my face. I don't know where I know him. I can't think where I've seen him but it's such a familiar face.

'How about a show first?' He grins, eyeing up my chest as he stands up, far taller than I would've anticipated and slightly large around the mouth too.

'Never mind.' I say hastily and stepping back, listening to the inner scream of my instincts, I go to turn away from him and retreat back to my friends. Alice is pouting sadly for me, already seeing what I can't, the girlfriend returning to his side.

Suddenly, a sharp slap collides into my backside, and yelping, I catch a brief look of his expression before I shove him. I see it perfectly then, in the photo frame on the desk in the coffee shop office. My boss with an arm around him. The same, slick smile. The eyes.

I don't know why I do it, panic I assume. Using my forearm, I shove him back so that he stumbles into his partner and then grab Alice by the hand to drag her out of this stupid fucking club.

'OI! When I call you- you should have the decency to turn around.'

I jump, not because of the tone of voice or the scream of it haunting my horrors, by the way her shoe comes colliding with the back of my head. I cringe from it and continue to try and drag the girls out of there.

Just my fucking luck.

'Hey! Try that again and I'll see you in hospital.'

'Rose.' I beg, tugging on her arm, to. She shakes me off, Bella hidden nervously behind me and grabbing Alice for comfort. It's a bad idea. Alice looks as furious as Blondie and neither are listening to me. In her defence, if this was a week ago, I wouldn't either. Yet the last thing I wanted was to explain to the Saint how my night ended in a fight.

'Bitch, do I have to kick you out of another place?!'

'Alice! You're drunk. Let's go-please just leave it- let's go.'

'Fucking hell Esme, fallen off your pedestal huh?' Tilly demands, raising a hand to her drunk posse 'What is it this time? He's fucked and dumped you or you're too much of a whore to be contained-'

'Say-'

'Alice!' And shoving them ahead of me. I push them out of the club before Security are given the chance. Bella is looking alarmed, watching my expression in hopes she'll find some courage there but it's lost.

'Running so soon?'

'No chance, Tilly.' I reply quickly, dragging Rosalie away for the third time, and begging her to shut the fuck up.

'You think you're so high and mighty and you can't even face up to me!' She yells from behind. Rose thrashes against my shoulder but I hold her back and tell Bella to get Jasper on the phone. The only one I know who'll be sober. Even from here I can see her hands shaking.

'That's it, Esme. Depend on your guard dogs!'

I cringe and continue to try and walk, my head held high. Or as high as I can muster it right now which is not at all. It's not Tilly I'm afraid of. Not for a second. It's the gang of people who have followed her, hungry to watch a fight commence.

'Go home, Tilly!'

'Me go home? How about I go to yours? Chances are I'll get further than you have.'

For just a second, the thought makes me green with jealousy. Despite the fact it's false, the suggestion catches my attention so wholly that I almost forget where my morals lie. Thankfully, my friends manage to keep them in check. Alice continues to yell at her, abusively for something who loves people. I know why she's doing it. She's angry. She's defensive and she's trying to look out for me. But it only has a way of forcing a shudder into my very bones.

'Glad to see your Puppy prides himself on having a STI for a girlfriend!' Alice cheers, clapping Rosalie by the hand as Bella positively suffers from a mental breakdown on the phone.

I beg myself not to do it- to keep walking. To get away from there. But someone pushes into me and stumbling into I wall, I'm forced to stop.

I was so close to them. All three of the girls. They were here. They were literally by my side and all then, I'm pushed against the wall, surrounded by a horseshoe of chanting students, pushing Tilly into me and making the ring even smaller.

She looks so young. So childlike with her knotted hair long and her wide eyelashes. For a moment, I briefly regret that our friendship turned so sour so quickly. She was in awe of me all the time I was teaching her what the fuck a cappuccino was. I couldn't imagine anyone hating me more than her at this moment.

'He pities you Esme!'

Stop it. I beg myself. Don't do it, please don't do it.

'I would, too considering the idiocy I have to work with.' I say it so calmly, so carefully that I can't believe it's been said. Rose is screaming at someone. I can't see them, I can't see anyone but Tilly and that face, the devilish face so calculating.

'You want to say that again?!'

'Do I need to? I ask, tensing my stomach to stop the shakes taking over my voice.

'Act all you want. But at the end of the day-' She comes closer towards me, heels against the gravel as she circles about by my face. 'You're the last thing he's going to want to touch after someone else has had their way with you.'

I know why she does it, I know she forcing that horrible suggestion into my head as a taunt- I know it's deliberate- but I can't help myself. When she nears me, her face so close to mine that her tan is spreading, I use my shoulder to her push away, quickening my step to escape through the gap of people. Like a string of elastic, they throw me right into her and the agonising slam of glass is smashed against my head.

Like a movie, it's Emmett's size and size alone that manages to part the crowd and while he has them distracted, Jasper clutches a grasp on my arm and Alice's, lugs us towards the car, hurtling a series of questions at a pace even Carlisle would be proud of. I'm lucid, if not uncomfortable and as he prods at my wound, I realise the prickle of blood is seeping into my hair. He stiffens.

'Just get us out of here,' I murmur. He nods, slips into the driver's seat next to Alice and takes a tight hold of her hand.

He wasn't angry at me yet, or rather, he was thinking about not being angry for the moment. The obviousness of the matter coloured his face like a painting. In his scenerio, I was the elder one and therefore the bad influence, particularly given our persuasion to get Bella out in the first place. In Alice's scenerio, I was the stubborn one who would rather rise to the challenge than admit that I wanted my affections to remain hidden. Neverthless, even if the frustration ate into her cheeks like a kid, the Cowboy was right.

I had younger siblings, I knew the duty of care. With Carlisle absent, I was the oldest one here. Yet, I had been chugging the alcohol down my throat like a fish in the desert and I knew that the girls had been trying to find ways to bridge a loyalty before I'd even chosen to lead the crowd of them in there, naivety and all.

Obviously, I'd favoured the terrible decisions for the responsibilities.

Turning across my shoulder, I note Em has already pulled Rose into his vehicle and though he's said a few words about 'sorting out the trash', I order him to take Rose home before she causes an even bigger scene. He looks a little hard at me first then follows this up with a grimace and then looks frustrated again, muttering empty threats under his breath as he loads his brawling Amour into his jeep.

He was probably regretting being sober. Moreover, regretting not being present. More than that, regretting not fisting his stone punch into someone's jaw.

Not great either way.

At my side, Bella is frantic.

'Don't panic.' I try to reassure her. 'This kinda thing doesn't often happen here.'

'Oh Esme,' she mumbles thickly. 'I'm so sorry... I-'

'Don't apologise.' I say, placing my arm to her shoulder. She isn't quite crying, maybe dry hyperventilating nevertheless I wrap an arm round her.

'Are you in pain?'

'No.' I lie. I'm drunk. I wasn't going to be in serious agony and yet I couldn't mistake the direction of my thumping head. She hangs her head low so that her warm hair becomes a curtain.

'Bella?'

'It's just the blood. It makes me feel a bit sick...'

Brilliant. Who put me in the car with the wheezy lot? Alice turns to look at me over her shoulder then, her perfect eyebrow furrowed. She watches as I carefully tap the infected area with the padding of my fingers and note the colour on my hands. She grimaces.

'Don't worry about it.' I say again, ignoring the big brown eyes guiltily seeping into me. She looks over me again, angling for a view at my head but I lean away and then thankfully, Jasper stops at on our drive. Emmett, too. And though I tell them to take Bella home, both Jasper and Alice leave this task to the brawn.

Then both accompany me like bad influences when I force myself to make the dreaded confession to the Babysitter.