I was ready to give it all up - everything. I was half out of my mind with love.

And I didn't think twice about what I was throwing into the fire, as long as I could keep it burning for just another minute - if only I was allowed to sit awhile longer beside its pale glow.

That was how I loved you in the end.

With my body cold and shuddering.

With empty hands over smoldering ash, counting out the minutes.

- Lang Leav -

Demons

When I left the café, I didn't head to my apartment right away. I needed some time to resolve my thoughts before facing Carlisle, so I drove around aimlessly for what felt like hours, thinking about the things Edward had told me.

I still found it hard to wrap my mind around it all. For weeks, I'd wondered what it was that haunted Carlisle's sleep and waking life, for weeks I'd wondered what made his eyes so much older than the rest of him. I'd hoped – a little foolishly and naively – that once I found out what it was, once I knew what troubled him, I could make it all better. That I could...fix him.

Now, I knew it was impossible.

"That's what you do, Bella – what you've always done. You mend broken hearts. That's why I'd like to see your heart stay intact."

Rosalie's words from weeks back echoed in my head in a new way. Had she seen how desperate I was to help Carlisle? To make him feel better? To be something he needed?

But what did he need? Or did he need anything? What if Edward was wrong, and I was just another woman passing by in his life? And even if I wasn't...even if Carlisle could feel the same about me as I felt about him, was I willing to stay with him and sacrifice a future with children? Was I ready to make that kind of decision? According to Edward, the thought of commitment alone was hard for him, and starting a family again was Carlisle's idea of a nightmare. He'd said having another child was pretty much the worst thing that could happen to him. That was how much he feared to lose someone he loved.

And like Edward had said...maybe Carlisle was also afraid of replacing someone who was no more.

I couldn't really blame him for those feelings, considering what he'd been through. I was sure having to bury your own child was hard enough as it was, but the thought of your child dying in your own arms, unable to stop it, unable to help...it was so horrible I couldn't wrap my mind around it.

I stared at the road ahead of me, suddenly realizing I was driving past the cemetery; I wondered if I'd made an unconscious decision to come here. Slowing down, I glanced to my right, my eyes studying the neat rows of gravestones. How often did Carlisle come here? How often did he come alone, and how often with Esme? When they did come, were they talking about Alice? Or were they talking to her? If so, I wondered what they said to her. Were they talking about mundane things, or were they telling her how much they missed her? Were they imagining what she'd look like today if she were alive? Were they trying to guess what her hobbies would have been, what kinds of things she'd be passionate about?

She'd be about eighteen now, I realized, at the beginning of her adult life. I thought to myself that, half of the best things in my life hadn't happened until I'd turned twenty-one. The thought made me sad.

Eventually, I turned the truck toward my apartment, realizing I wouldn't become much wiser by avoiding Carlisle. I needed to talk to him, and I needed to see his face. Maybe I'd know what to say to him once I did. Maybe I'd know what to do. What to choose.

You already know what to do. That choice was made a long time ago.

Sighing, I silenced my inner voice. After a few minutes, I pulled into the parking lot of my apartment building, noticing Carlisle's car was already there. I wondered how long he'd been waiting for me. I cut the engine and got out at the same time as the door of his car opened.

His face was etched with worry; that was the first thing I noticed. "Where have you been?" he asked. "I've been trying to call you all afternoon. "

"Oh." I dug out my phone from my bag, noticing the screen was black. "Out of battery. I haven't checked it since I got off my shift. I'm sorry." He followed me as I made my way to my apartment door.

"But your shift ended almost three hours ago," he pointed out, as I unlocked the door and we stepped inside. "Where were you?"

"Have you been waiting for a long time?"

He shook his head, closing the door behind him. "Just a few minutes."

"I'm sorry."

He brushed it off. "It doesn't matter. I just got worried that something had happened. I expected you to be home by now. I was just about to go look for you."

I took off my coat slowly and went into the kitchen, placing my bag on the counter. "I…uh...yeah. Something came up and...I guess time got away from me. I'm sorry you had to wait. I didn't mean to make you worry."

"Has something happened?" Carlisle asked, looking at me more closely. He tossed his coat on the kitchen counter next to my bag and closed the distance between us with two long strides, touching my arm. "What is it? Why are you looking at me like that? Bella, what's wrong?"

I shook my head. "Nothing's wrong," I assured him.

"Then, what's bothering you?"

"Nothing's bothering me. It's just that...well, I've had a strange afternoon, that's all."

He narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean? Strange how?"

I turned away from him, hanging my coat on the rack by the door and making my way into the living room. He followed me with hesitant steps, and as I turned around to face him, there was concern in his eyes. And something else as well, something like...restlessness.

"Why don't you sit down," I suggested quietly.

He made no move to do so. He just kept looking at me, like he didn't know what to think. Maybe he could sense something had changed. Or had anything changed? Now that I knew?

I hoped not.

"Bella...please. If something's wrong, I need you to tell me."

I let out a slow breath and sat down on the couch. After a moment of hesitation, he followed me, sitting down next to me. He reached out to take my hand, holding it a little tighter than was necessary.

"Nothing is wrong," I said again, slowly and deliberately. I drew in a deep breath, holding his gaze. "I just, uh...I ran into someone at the café today."

Carlisle frowned. "Who?"

"Edward."

He looked confused. "He came to see you?"

I shook my head. "No, not exactly. He was surprised to see me there, actually. He didn't even seem to know I work there. Unless you've told him I do?"

He was still frowning. "No, I don't think I mentioned it to him. That's odd. Well, it's a small world."

I chuckled softly. "Yeah. That's what he said."

"I hope he didn't drive you crazy with his inappropriate jokes. I know he can be...frustrating." He gave a soft laugh.

I shook my head. "No, he kept the inappropriate jokes to minimum today."

That made him frown again. "Well, that doesn't sound like Edward at all. Was something troubling him? Did he seem ill?"

I shook my head, a little amused by the fact that, as soon as Carlisle found out his brother hadn't been harassing me with jokes, he immediately assumed he was unwell. "No, he wasn't ill. Our topic was just...serious. That's all."

"Your topic?" he asked, still frowning.

I breathed in deeply. "My shift was about to end when he came in, and he asked if I could spare him a moment. He said...there was something he wanted to talk to me about."

Carlisle's eyes became wary. "And?"

I held his gaze, squeezing his hand gently. "Carlisle...he told me. Everything."

He just stared at me for a long time, not blinking, not even breathing. Then, he shook his head, his frown deepening. When he eventually spoke, his voice was confused, like he was still struggling to understand what I'd said. "He told you..." he trailed off, his voice oddly empty.

"He told me about...what happened," I said carefully. "He told me...about her." I didn't dare to say Alice's name out loud. Since Edward had said Carlisle couldn't bear to speak her name, maybe it meant he couldn't bear to hear it, either.

I saw it in his eyes, when my words and their meaning finally sank in. His face lost color so quickly it worried me. I reached out with my other hand to touch his arm, wanting to ask him if he was feeling alright. I was suddenly glad I'd asked him to sit down for this.

He didn't say anything for a long moment. He just kept staring me, like he was expecting me to take my words back. Eventually, he closed his eyes, untangled his hand from mine, and lowered his face into his palms. I hesitated, wondering if I should speak, but something told me he needed a moment. I touched his arm carefully; the sleeves of his shirt were folded up to his elbows, and as soon as my hand came in contact with his bare skin, he lifted his head from his hands and looked at me.

"Edward told you," he said slowly. I couldn't read his tone.

I nodded. "Yes."

He turned to stare at my coffee table, but I had a feeling he didn't really see it. Again, he was silent for a long moment, almost like he was still trying to process my words. Almost like he couldn't believe Edward had done what he had.

"Are you upset?" I asked cautiously, still trying to read his expression. His eyes were completely blank, but when I spoke, he turned to look at me again.

"Upset?" he asked quietly. "With who? You?"

I shrugged. "Me, Edward, someone. I'm just...trying to figure out what's going on in your head right now. You're barely breathing."

As soon as I said it, he let out a quiet sigh and shook his head. "I'm just, uh...I'm just surprised, I guess. And shocked. I didn't expect Edward to..." He shook his head again and got up from the couch so quickly his sudden movement actually startled me. I watched him as he paced around my small living room, staring at the floor and rubbing his neck.

"I understand why you didn't tell me yourself," I told him, watching him closely. "I understand how it would've been...hard."

He flicked me a look, but he continued his pacing. "It's not that...I didn't want you to know," he said slowly.

I felt something like relief as I heard him speak; it made me feel a little helpless, seeing him like this. It reminded me of the Carlisle I'd found in the dark kitchen a few nights ago. I'd felt helpless and uncertain back then, too. But the difference was that I knew everything now. I knew what his demons were.

"I'm sure it's not something you like to talk about," I said carefully. "And I'm...sorry. I know how lame it sounds, but I am sorry. About what happened."

He stopped his pacing and breathed out slowly. Then, he sat down in the armchair on the other side of the coffee table, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

"So am I," he sighed, and something in his words, in his voice, and even in the sound of his breathing, made my heart clench. He sounded so...weary. Exhausted. His voice wasn't just empty. It was...broken. And then I saw it, what Edward had been talking about. There was something in his eyes, something deeper than regret and sorrow. Maybe even something deeper than guilt, if such thing existed.

"Edward also told me about...how you feel," I heard myself say. The look in his eyes...I would have done practically anything not to see him like that ever again. The words slipped out of my lips on their own accord. "It wasn't your fault. None of it was." I didn't know why I felt as though I had to say it, and it wasn't as if I expected my words to change anything. If he had felt this way for fourteen years, a few simple words wouldn't fix it. Maybe nothing would.

Immediately, his eyes turned cool and avoided mine. "Forgive me, Bella, but I don't think you're the right person to make an assessment about that."

"Then, who is?" I asked softly. "You?"

He didn't answer. I watched him closely, hoping he'd look at me.

"Maybe you're right," I murmured after a while. "Maybe you're the only person who gets to have a say in that. But there's a problem."

His eyes shifted, but he still wouldn't look at me.

"Something Edward said today stuck with me," I continued quietly. "He said...it's not others who set the hardest limits for us; we do it ourselves. He said the most severe judge in your life is you. That our minds can be our biggest enemies...not to mention our fears." I paused, noticing that his jaw became tight. "I can never imagine how much it must've hurt you to lose your daughter like that. But how long are you going to keep punishing yourself for something you had no power over?"

He turned to meet my gaze, then. His eyes were hard and cold, like blue river stones. "Until it stops hurting," he answered in a cool, broken voice. "Until I begin to believe I really had no power over what happened. Until I can truly believe I've punished myself enough."

I held his gaze, regardless of the fact that the unfamiliar, cold look in his eyes horrified me a bit. "Do you honestly believe that day will come?" I asked quietly. "If you keep going like this?"

He stared into my eyes for a moment more, and then he looked away. He breathed in slowly and closed his eyes momentarily, running a weary hand down his face.

"I appreciate what you're trying to do," he said quietly, his voice emotionless, "But you don't know, Bella...you don't understand. You can never understand what it's like to..." he trailed off, exhaling a tired, defeated breath of air. His eyes stared blankly at the floor.

I got up from the couch and rounded the coffee table, making my way to him. Kneeling on the floor at his feet, I took his hand. Something heavy settled in the pit of my stomach, when he didn't react to my touch.

"You're right," I said, my voice quiet. "I don't know what it's like. I have no idea what you're going through. I don't have a clue about what you must be feeling." I paused, swallowing hard. "But I do know you can't keep going like this. Something has to change."

He gave a joyless, broken laugh. "Nothing ever changes," he disagreed. "This is how it's been for..."

"For fourteen years?" I finished for him. "And this is how it'll be for another fourteen years? And then what?" I asked softly. "Are you done punishing yourself, then?"

"That's my point. Perhaps...perhaps I'm never done."

"And that's what's wrong here," I stated. "You don't allow yourself to be done. Because if you do, it'd mean you'd have to stop blaming yourself. It'd mean you'd have to accept that you've suffered enough. It'd mean you'd have to give yourself permission to...feel happy again. To move on."

He closed his eyes, not saying anything.

"But you're not going to do that," I continued with a soft voice. "Edward told me that...you feel like you don't deserve it. You're wrong."

That made him open his eyes, and the cool look in them made my heart clench painfully.

"I'm the judge of what I deserve," he said quietly. There was an edge to his voice I'd never heard before. "You have no right to say that." He eased his hand from mine and got up in one fluid movement. I followed him, as he strode out of the living room and went into the kitchen, grabbing his coat from the counter.

"You're wrong again," I told him, trying to keep my voice steady. "I do have the right to say that."

He stood with his back to me, his shoulders tense. Without turning to look at me, he put on his coat, doing nothing to acknowledge he had even heard me.

"I'm not trying to tell you what to feel," I continued. "I'm not saying you should feel this emotion or that emotion. I'm not saying enough time has passed since you lost your daughter, and I'm not saying it's time to get up, get over it, and move forward. That is something I have no right to say. I'm just..." I let out a breath, licking my lips. "I'm just...worried...about what this is doing to you. And I'm not the only one who's worried."

"I'm well aware of how much I burden Edward and Esme. Do you think that doesn't trouble me at all?"

I sighed. "That's not what I–"

"And I think it's enough that I'm weighing them down. I don't need another–" He blew out a sharp breath and fell silent again, hanging his head.

"Another what?"

I saw his shoulders rise and fall, as he pulled in a deep breath. "Another person worrying about me. Another person...another..."

"Another person suffering because of what happened?" I supplied. "Another person whose life will be affected because of your so-called failure? Another person who'll ruin their life because of you?"

"That's not what I said."

"But that's what you were thinking. That's what you're afraid of, isn't it? Or at least that's one thing you're afraid of."

"Bella–"

"How long are you going to keep this up?" I asked gently. "How long are you going to keep everyone at arm's length? How long until you reach your limit? Have you ever stopped to ask yourself that? How long can you engage in superficial, short-term relationships that'll never last, just to stop Esme from worrying? How long before it destroys you?"

"I told you," he answered quietly. "I told you that one time that I'd already made a decision to...to stay alone. But then you..." He threw up his hands in a weary gesture. He let out a slow, trembling breath. "As for when it'll destroy me...that question is not really...relevant. You can't...damage something that wasn't whole to start with. That's what I've tried to tell you all along. That's what I tried to tell you soon after I met you. But you didn't listen."

"I listened," I disagreed. "More than that, I wanted to understand. And I do now. Or at least...or at least I know about things now."

Carlisle shook his head and put his hands on his hips in a decisive manner, heaving out a breath. It troubled me that he wouldn't turn around to face me. "It doesn't change anything."

"Why not?"

"Because." His shoulders rose and fell in a forcibly even rhythm. "It…it doesn't change anything, because it shouldn't change anything. You and I...there's just too much..." He paused, drawing in another deep breath. "It'd never work out."

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the hurt his words caused, and also dying to find out where his words came from. "How do you know that?"

"Because, I just do. I know myself well enough to say that I'm not up for it. I thought I'd made that clear – I thought you knew that. That you'd accepted that."

"I had," I told him, briefly wondering if that was a lie. "Or at least I tried to accept that. But as time passed, I came to realize...I came to realize why I wanted to understand you so badly. There's a reason why I sat down with Edward today. I knew it was my only chance to learn more about you, because I knew you were never going to tell me about those things yourself."

"And what does that tell you? The obvious fact that I can't share certain parts of myself with you? That's hardly a foundation for any type of healthy relationship. I'm not a whole person like you are, Bella. I never will be."

"I'm not asking you to be. I never did. I've never known you as a whole, perfect person. The man you are...I've never known you any other way. That's my point. You never had to be whole…for me to fall in love with you."

My words were met with silence. I expected Carlisle to turn around, to look at me, to say something, to react somehow. But he just stood perfectly still, his head low, his shoulders hunched, his hands still on his hips.

He looked like...he looked like someone who'd just received a piece of bad news. Or not exactly. Actually...

He looked like he had just gotten a huge load of bad news.

I could feel tears burning in my eyes, but I blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. After a moment, Carlisle sighed, his arms dropping to his sides.

"I was afraid this might happen," he murmured, just loudly enough so I could hear.

"Why?" I asked, pleased that my voice didn't tremble. "Is it so horrible to know someone cares about you?"

"Yes." The fact that there was no trace of hesitation in his voice hurt more than his answer did. "Yes, it is. It's because I can never be what you need me to be. I can never become the person you need me to become. What happened all those years ago...it determined the trajectory of my life. I'm not going to change, Bella. Like I said, you're a whole person, and I'm not, and that's what makes the difference here. I can never..." He heaved out a shaky breath, and then he turned to face my way. His head was still bowed, and he kept his eyes on the floor.

"Since Edward went through all that trouble to tell you about what happened all those years ago, I'm sure he didn't leave out a lot of details. Therefore, I'm sure you know what...what it was like after the accident. What I was like. Starting a life with someone...it's just something I can't even consider. Think about it, Bella. Think about it all. Think about how I behaved when Esme needed me. After our daughter...after the accident..." He paused, swallowing and tugging at his hair in a frustrated manner.

"You were grieving," I said quietly.

"So was she!" he all but yelled. "If I was capable of turning my back on her, when she needed me most, what else am I capable of? Or not capable of, more likely? Let's say we give this a shot. Let's say we stay together. Let's say something happens. Let's say you need me, and I'm not there!"

He raked a hand through his hair, pulling in a deep breath, evidently trying to calm himself. "Are you really ready to choose that kind of life for yourself? And to be second best to a memory of someone I can't forget? Are you really willing to take that kind of risk? That I'll fail you when you need me?"

My breath caught in my chest, as he finally met my gaze and held it. His eyes no longer reminded me of cornflowers. They were like two dark clouds that warned of an impending storm.

"Nothing has to happen," I answered. "I know how you look at these things. I know how you've looked at them for a long time now. And I understand why you see them like you do. But you have to start believing that not every good thing ends in suffering and heartache. Life is more than a series of worst-case scenarios.

"You can't keep dodging and avoiding the good things in life, just because of something that might happen. There'll come a moment when you just can't keep it up anymore. As soon as something good comes your way, you can't just aim and take a swing at it to send it back where it came from. Life is not a game, or a competition where you have to stay safe all the time."

"Then, why do I feel like I keep losing?"

I didn't have an answer to that. I just wanted to go to him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him, I wanted to kiss him, I wanted to make it all go away. But it wasn't that simple. My presence alone wouldn't make any difference. Maybe nothing would.

I had to try, anyway. I took a small step forward, and as soon as I did, Carlisle backed away. He ran a hand through his hair again in a gesture of frustration, his eyes on the floor.

"This is not just about me," he said in a low voice. "I'm trying to think about you. I can't give you the life you're dreaming about."

"How do you know what kind of life I'm dreaming about? You don't know that. How could you?"

He gave me a look. "Well, do you know?" he asked. "Because it doesn't matter what I think or believe, if you don't know what you want."

"What I want? What do you mean, what I want?" I asked, and I had to wipe a hand over my eyes to stop the tears from spilling. "You want me to spell it out for you? I wasn't clear enough before? I want you. That's what I want."

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Maybe now. But soon...or in a few years...when those friends of yours get married and start a family, you'll regret your decision to stay with someone who refuses to give you those same things. And then, you'll feel like you're on the outside looking in."

"You can't know that."

"I can. I know it, because...because I'm the one who's been in that position for years. I look at Esme, I look at Edward, I look at his children, and I think about all those things I wanted for myself, things I lost, things I can no longer have. I don't ever want you to feel like I do. Like you've had to sacrifice something. Like you've...lost something you can't get back."

I breathed out slowly. "I know what you mean. I understand where you're coming from. But you don't have to feel like you should...protect me. I'm capable of making my own choices. Edward said...he made sure I fully understood that there are things you can't give me. He made sure I understood how...impossible...the thought of having another child is to you. I know all this."

Carlisle shook his head, sighing. "You're still missing the point."

"How am I missing the point?"

He looked my way again. "You've earlier said you're not sure what you want out of life. Soon after we'd met, I asked you if family and children are something you dream about, and you said you were open to experiencing those things someday."

I threw up my hands in a frustrated manner. "And I also said I haven't thought about it that much! I haven't had a reason to. My longest relationship lasted two years, and it ended up with me in the ER. Everything went to hell during one single day. I haven't had a reason to go from that to asking myself if I want children or not."

"And now we're finally reaching the root of the issue. Now, you're seeing the point. You haven't really stopped to ask yourself that. You haven't considered it seriously. And you're so young, Bella. You can make a million choices now and regret them all later."

"That's very condescending," I shook my head and wrapped my arms around myself, wondering when our discussion had turned into a full-blown argument. "This is suddenly about my age?"

"That's not what I meant."

"I know I'm a lot younger than you. I know I still have a lot of choices and decisions ahead of me, and I know some of them will be wrong, and I'll end up regretting a lot of them. But that's how life is. I don't have a crystal ball to look into, Carlisle – no one does. Nothing is guaranteed. Life doesn't come with a warranty."

"Exactly. I know that better than most, don't I?" He ran a hand through his hair and then rubbed his eyes wearily. "What I want you to understand is that some choices, some decisions, are bigger and more important than others. Some of them are irreversible, and that's why you can't take them lightly. Wanting children, not wanting children...it's not something to decide overnight. And you can't stand there and tell me you know what you want, when only a few weeks earlier, you were still so uncertain about it. And I..."

His jaw tensed. "The thought of staying with you, when I know these questions are still open...when I know I might stand in the way of what you want..." He paced around the kitchen, his hand gripping his hair.

"I can hardly live with myself now, Bella. How could I live with myself, if I knew there was something you wanted, and you had to give it up, just because I was too afraid to live?" He shook his head. "I'm not ready to risk that."

I felt like all strength left my body. "What are you saying?" My voice sounded too calm; it was a shocking contrast to the loud alarms going off in my head. In my heart.

He avoided my eyes. "You know what I'm saying."

My breath left my chest in a rush, and something like anger, or maybe it was just plain hurt, took its place. "You say it's my choice, something I should consider, whether I want children or not. But if you walk through that door now, you're making the choice for me. And that's not right. You don't have the right to do that. I don't accept that. If you do that, it means you don't have one ounce of respect for me."

He paced again, and after a while, he leaned himself against the counter, his shoulders hunched, his head bowed. Slowly, as if in defeat, he shook his head. "I don't understand what Edward was thinking...when he decided to tell you everything. I believe that was my choice to make. Not his."

"He told me, because he knew you never would've told me yourself. Because you never would've made that choice," I answered, blinking furiously. "And he told me, because...because he was under the impression that maybe...maybe you cared about me...more than you've let on."

Carlisle didn't look at me. He ran a hand down his face and pushed away from the counter, turning his back to me.

His silence was louder than a million words. A million screams. I wanted to block my ears from it, wanted to close my eyes, so I wouldn't have to see how he faced away from me. My eyes were suddenly completely dry; it was like even my tear ducts knew that no amount of crying would drive away this empty ache inside me.

And still, some part of me clung to the last shred of hope. The words leaving my lips, the silent question they held, were both my lifeline and my downfall.

"I suppose he was wrong," I stated quietly, my voice entirely too calm.

Carlisle didn't deny the words. Without meeting my gaze, he turned around and walked to the door.

"I have to go," he said, his voice even and emotionless. Without sparing me a glance, he opened the door and stepped out.

I stood there for a long time after he'd closed the door behind him. Hot, burning tears were pouring down my cheeks, and my heart was racing in my chest, like it wanted to run after him. I couldn't blame it. I wanted to run after him, too.

But I stood completely still, suddenly certain that no matter how fast I ran, I'd have no chance to catch up with him.

Maybe I had never had any chance. Maybe he'd always been unattainable, and I'd simply been deceiving myself by allowing myself to believe that, maybe we could someday fall into step with each other, and walk side by side.