Chap 23 forever yours

A/N: SM owns Twilight.

Thanks for your ongoing support - love you guys.

The desire to read Siobhan's letter in his jacket pocket, was almost overwhelming but Aro wanted to wait until he was sure he would not be interrupted. So as soon as he arrived back in his room at the Inn he ordered some lunch from the room service menu and then took a quick shower.

After the steaming hot shower he dressed in comfortable lounge pants. While towel-drying his hair he wondered to himself what Siobhan would think of the fact that he had kept it mid-shoulder length just as she had liked it when they were young lovers. His brother, Caius, always teased him that at his age he still had a ponytail but Aro, sentimental fool that he was, couldn't change the style that his sweet Irish girl had always admired.

He pulled the envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket and noticed that his dear Siobhan had addressed it simply with her pet name for him, 'M'aingeal'. A tear rolled down his cheek as he moved his finger lovingly over the writing. He felt an old familiar ache in his chest and his hand rubbed absentmindedly over his heart where he'd placed a tattoo with the script 'per sempre tua'.

A small knock followed by the declaration 'room service' broke Aro from his thoughts so he placed the letter on the table and threw on a t-shirt before opening the door and the server brought in his food. After he tipped and thanked the server he locked the door so that he would not be disturbed.

Aro sat at the small table to eat his turkey sandwich followed by a slice of apple pie. Aro never ate Italian food when he travelled in America, unless of course it was from one of their restaurants; he was a bit of a snob when it came to food, having been raised on his mother's cooking. Serafina, their cook back home in Montepulciano, was the finest cook he'd encountered since his mother passed away, so he insisted on hiring her for the estate he shared with his brother.

With his modest lunch finished and the tray placed outside his door to be collected, Aro moved to the bed and picked up Siobhan's letter so carefully as though it would dissolve in his hands if he were too rough. He sat back on the bed and carefully opened the letter, unfolding the pages and dropping four photographs into his lap which had been folded inside the pages. He picked up the images and gasped as he saw a photo of his beautiful Siobhan heavily pregnant and smiling her glorious smile at the camera. He lovingly stroked the image as tears poured from his eyes: "Oh my sweet Irish girl."

The next photo was of a small boy in a school uniform wearing a backpack which was almost as big as he was; Aro flipped the image to see in Siobhan's handwriting, 'Charles' first day of school at St Augustine's Catholic School'.

The third photo was of a handsome young man wearing a graduation cap and gown, with his arm around an older but still beautiful Siobhan, the note on the back said: 'Charles' graduation from Harvard'.

Aro knew from his private investigator's report that his son had been a brilliant student on a full scholarship from Harvard and that he had become a successful lawyer before his death from cancer.

The last photo was of Charles proudly holding a small child, the note said: 'Charles with his Isabella, 18 months old'. He looked longest at this photo completely entranced by young Isabella's pretty face and how much even then she resembled his own mother.

Placing the photographs carefully to one side, Aro lifted the pages of the letter from Siobhan and began to read.

Her words lifted from the page and he could hear them in Siobhan's gentle voice. She opened by begging for his forgiveness for loving him too much and being unable to move on from her love for him. Like Aro, she had never married. He was sad at the thought but was pleased as well, knowing that their love was as real for her as it was for him. She told him about the meeting with Marcus and how his father had so cruelly enjoyed sharing the news of his engagement and telling her that she was nothing to Aro.

The anger Aro had felt towards his father when he finally confessed the truth to him about what he had done to separate the young lovers returned. He remembered weeping over Siobhan's grave, telling her that it was all a lie and that he had never been with anyone since he had been with her. Never.

He returned to her words hoping to find a hint of her understanding of his true devotion to her. She begged forgiveness for believing his father and for not going to Aro to hear from his own mouth his true feelings.

"Oh yes my love, if you had found me we could've been together all this time. I tried to forgive my father, sweet heart, but I just couldn't. He destroyed our happiness."

He read on as she told him of his son, all his favourite foods as a small child, his favourite books and his accomplishments as he grew older. She shared stories of her successful career in publishing and how she had hoped that if they were ever to meet, though Aro would be married, that he would at least be proud of what she'd achieved and proud of their son.

He cried again as Siobhan words told of how his son had fallen in love with Renee, whom Siobhan never trusted, of their beautiful baby and of Charles' short but futile fight with cancer.

Aro picked up the photos again and stared at the one of his son holding Isabella which must have been around the time of his diagnosis. Charles looked so happy and strong in the photo, it was difficult to believe that within a few short months after this photo was taken that he had died.

Returning to the letter, Siobhan's words told of Isabella's difficult life with Renee and with James. She promised him that she had done everything she could to try and rescue their granddaughter. She went on to beg Aro to keep Renee and her abusive partner James away from Isabella at any cost. Of course, when Siobhan wrote this letter Renee and James were both alive.

"No need to worry about those two anymore my sweet girl, they are in hell and I can only hope they are receiving back ten-fold the cruelties they inflicted on our granddaughter."

In her letter Siobhan went on to explain the arrangements she'd made to help Isabella become independent from Renee and James, with the Forks house Marcus had bought, her New York apartment as well as cash and some jewelry. Aro smiled, his Siobhan had always been a planner so of course she had thought ahead to Isabella's future.

"You are right my sweet, I too must set things in place for her future. I will meet with my lawyers and change my Will to name Isabella as my sole beneficiary, after all she is our child's child."

He returned to Siobhan's letter with just a few more paragraphs to read but these final words squeezed his heart more than all the others she had written.

M'aingeal, I ask you once more for your forgiveness. If you did marry another, as I am sure you must have, forgive me for loving you all this time from afar. I do not blame you for not loving me as much as I loved you because you gifted me with my son Charles who brought great joy to my life, and he in turn gifted me with Isabella who is a beautiful and loving soul.

I hope you are not angry that he named his daughter Isabella. It was my doing, I begged Charles to name her Isabella, telling him that it was his paternal grandmother's name and that Isabella Volturi was a wonderful loving woman who would be a wonderful namesake for his daughter.

I have carried your love in my heart my whole life, dearest Aro, but it has never been a burden to me. Your love has given me strength to raise our son. Your love has given me the courage to work hard and succeed professionally in a man's world. Your love has given me the resolve to do my best for Isabella.

If you have carried my love in your heart all these years, I beg of you to honour our love by making room in your life for Isabella who has suffered at the hands of the ones who should have protected her. If you are indeed married to another, I humbly beg your wife to forgive our sin and to open her heart to your granddaughter who deserves to be cherished.

Finally, my sweet Aro... m'aingeal, I leave you with this poem

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there. I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there. I did not die.

Know that I will always be with you and with Isabella in every sweet moment you share and I will be waiting for you ... as I always have, my love.

Forever yours, Siobhan

He closed the letter and sat silently for a long time, remembering again every single moment he had spent with Siobhan; he could almost feel her hands gently holding his. The tears flowed and he succumbed to the sadness of loss and of grief. He thought he had shed all the tears possible when he sat by her grave in the New York graveyard but reading her soft words offering and seeking forgiveness, he cried again for a love that was stolen from them both.

Aro never forgave his father for that cruelty; he did not even attend his father's funeral. It was too much to ask to forgive him. Marcus had loved a wonderful woman and had two loving devoted sons, but because fate had dealt him a cruel blow taking his Isabella from him, Marcus' sadness led him to cruelly separate his own son from the woman he loved, knowing she carried his child. No, it was too much for him to forgive.

His tears slowed and he began to think of Siobhan's' request for him to take his granddaughter Isabella into his life. Of course he would honour this request, she was the family he never knew he had.

Aro reached for his phone and called Caius, who was not only his brother and business partner but also his closest and most trusted friend. When his brother answered Aro barely gave him a moment to speak before he excitedly outpoured his feelings in their mother tongue to his brother: "Oh my dear brother, can you believe how much my Isabella looks like our dear mother, God rest her soul. I can scarcely believe it, the photo I sent doesn't do her justice brother, she is far more beautiful in real life. Her hair, her eyes, her soft pale skin... it's unbelievable, just like our mother. God has truly blessed me to have such a beautiful child and so clever."

Caius' calm voice came through trying to settle his brother's excitement: "Now brother, she is your grandchild not your child but she is truly very beautiful and more like our mother than any of my family. I am so happy for you. When will you bring her home?"

"Oh, yes Caius, I must bring her home as soon as possible. I have missed too much already. I am sad to say that my Isabella has had a very difficult life. After my son Charles died, God rest his soul, his wife became a drunkard and her sadistic boyfriend made Isabella's life a misery. They are dead now and I can only hope they are rotting in hell but Isabella … oh brother she is so intelligent, so accomplished. She has been accepted to so many quality colleges and plans to become a specialist doctor, a pediatrician. Can you believe that? Such ambition in a girl so young," Aro said.

"Aro, I am so happy for you," Caius laughed. "Please let me know the arrangements and I will gather the family when you bring our Isabella home."

"Thank you my dear brother," Aro said "Isabella is living with a family here, the Cullens, who seem to be quite comfortable and seem to care for her but I am concerned, brother, as Isabella is very thin. I'm sure their diet is not suited to her at all, she needs some of Serafina's good Italian cooking. I am returning to the Cullen house this evening when the father of the house will be there; I am sure he will see sense and understand that Isabella's place is with her flesh and blood, at home with us in Italy."

A/N: So there's some more of Aro and Siobhan's tragic love story - I would've found it difficult to forgive Marcus too - wouldn't you? And Aro wants our Busy Bee to come to italy - not sure how fancy pants will feel about that!

References:

Translation of Aro's tattoo: per sempre tua (forever yours)

Translation from gaelic: M'aingeal (my angel)

Siobhan's Poem: "Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep"

This poem was written in 1932 by Mary Elizabeth Frye. There was controversy over the authorship for many years but it has now been determined that Mary Elizabeth Frye did indeed write it.