"We're all broken.

That's how the light gets in."

- Ernest Hemingway -

Another Lifeline

"You're not fooling me," Carlisle whispered.

I smiled. Since it was dark, he couldn't see it, but it was in my voice, that smile. "Oh? I'm not?"

"No. You're not. I know you're awake."

I chuckled, remembering a similar conversation from a few weeks back, and eased myself closer to him. "Was my breathing too steady and controlled?"

"Something like that. And...I could hear your brain ticking."

"Sorry. There's a first time for everything, I guess. For once, it's me who's lying awake at night and thinking about things so loudly I wake you up."

He gave a soft laugh. "Yes, I suppose." I felt him shift, and then he reached over me. There was a quiet click, and soon, my bedroom was bathed in golden light. "And what kinds of things were you thinking about?"

I cocked an eyebrow at him, turning onto my side and propping myself up by my elbow. "I was thinking..." I hesitated. "I was thinking about everything that happened tonight. And...well, I was thinking about...James. You weren't really going to beat him up or anything, were you? Edward was just joking, right?"

Carlisle raised his eyebrows, turning onto his side as well and mimicking my posture. "Well, I believe I've told you violence is something I loathe. But I've also told you paying a visit to this ex-boyfriend of yours is rather tempting. And what happened tonight kind of strengthens that...urge." He stroked my cheek gently. "I'm not saying assaulting him would solve anything, not to mention behaving in such a manner would be very immature and uncivilized. But when I saw him grab you, I just..." He shook his head and sighed, raking a hand through his hair.

"Well, I'm obviously glad you and Edward came when you did," I told him. "And I'm obviously not saying James is a saint, but he was very drunk, as I'm sure you noticed. He probably won't even remember his behaviour tomorrow."

Carlisle's eyes took on a dark look. "Being drunk isn't an excuse to...harm someone."

I suddenly realized how my words must have sounded to him. He was probably thinking about the accident. I wondered if he and Esme had ever been able to forgive the drunk driver who was responsible for Alice's death. On the other hand, it was hard to forgive someone who had never had the chance to say sorry. Dead people couldn't apologize.

I touched Carlisle's arm, giving him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. You're right. Being drunk...it's no excuse. Of course, it isn't."

He drew in a deep breath and gave me a look. "What happened tonight...you should report it. Even if James' friends back him up, Edward and I saw what happened. What he did. We can witness, if needed. We should make sure this doesn't happen again."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, you're right. I don't want someone else ending up in the ER, just because I thought that keeping my mouth shut was easier."

Carlisle traced a finger along the scar on my arm. "When this happened," he began, glancing at me, "you said it was your word against his. It'll be different this time. I've always wondered, though," he drew in a breath, hesitating, "since your father is a police officer..."

"Why didn't I ask for his help when I needed it?" I finished for him. I shrugged, avoiding his eyes. "I guess...I guess I was a bit of a coward. I just wanted to get away and leave the whole thing behind me as fast as possible.

"And I, uh...this is going to sound stupid, by the way. Charlie never liked James, and he didn't exactly hide his opinion. I thought he was upset, just because it was hard for him to realize his little girl had grown up, but...he saw something in James, something I didn't see. Maybe I was blind, or maybe it was some supernatural cop instinct that warned him and made him see something I didn't.

"We had an argument or two about it, and when he heard I'd moved in with James, he blew a gasket. And the ironic thing is, I always defended James. I was the blind one, and I never saw that Charlie was right, and I was wrong...until it was too late. So, when I found out James was cheating on me, and when we had that fight...when he pushed me, and I fell...I don't know. The thought of telling Charlie about it..." I sighed, shaking my head.

Carlisle's eyes were sympathetic. "Were you afraid of his reaction?"

I shook my head. "Actually, no. I knew he wouldn't have been mad at me, or even disappointed. He never would've said 'I told you so.' Charlie's not like that. The reason why it seemed impossible to tell him was because I felt like I couldn't face him. It wasn't pride...not really. I was just horribly ashamed that I'd been so wrong about James. I kept telling myself that I should've listened to Charlie, that I should've seen what James was really like. But I suppose I saw him through rose-colored glasses. Until that one day."

"It happens. And it's understandable, wanting to see only the good things in someone you like and ignore their flaws." He touched my cheek gently. "I wonder..." he trailed off and smiled sadly, shaking his head.

"What?" I asked, curious.

He gave me a searching look. "I wonder what color your glasses are," he said, "when you look at me."

I bit my bottom lip, pondering. "Well, I suppose my glasses were rose-colored in the beginning. Aren't they always?"

"I suppose," he admitted, chuckling. "But now?" He narrowed his eyes, his small smile falling. He looked almost...worried.

I smiled. "Well, when I first met you, I saw this handsome, charming, mysterious man, and...I wasn't sure what to make of him. He was an enigma, and he intrigued me – for several reasons – and I wanted to get to know him. But it was hard, because...I could sense he didn't want me to get to know him. I knew there had to be an explanation for it. I knew...there had to be a reason why you wanted to keep me at arm's length.

"I obviously wanted to find out what that reason was, but I also wanted it to happen on your terms. But there was a small voice inside me that kept warning me that, maybe it'd never happen. That maybe I was just another person passing by in your life. The thought was...well, it hurt more than I wanted to admit. And by the time I became aware of all these things, the rose-colored glasses were pretty much gone. And now...now I get see you for who you are."

"And what do you see?" His voice was uncertain; there was hidden fear in it. The emotion was more visible in his eyes. They could hide nothing, his eyes. Their blue, deep color was just too honest.

I smiled, taking his hand. "I see a man," I began, "who's handsome, and charming, and still a bit mysterious. I see a man who's lonely...a man whose most important lifeline is to stay that way. Lonely. But I also see a man who's...tired of it all. I see a man who's searching for another lifeline. Not to forget or leave behind what was before, but...but to discover there are still colors in the world. To step away from the shadow that was cast a long time ago."

Carlisle squeezed my hand, his eyes dropping to the sheets between us. "And what if...what if I can't step away from that shadow?" he asked quietly. "What if I don't want to see the colors?"

I stayed silent and just looked at him, until he lifted his gaze and met my eyes. I waited, knowing there was something else he wanted to say. Something he was afraid to say. Something he was struggling to put to words.

"Bella," he began, his voice quiet. "All those things you know about me...all those things Edward told you...the person I am, the person I've been for so many years...I'm not sure how much I can...change from that. I need you to know that. And what I said a few hours ago, when I told you I love you..." He sighed, and then he pulled in a deep breath, like he was about to dive into icy water. "I don't want you to feel like you're...obligated...to stay with me, just because you now know about my feelings. That's the last thing I want. I don't want my limitations to become your limitations. I don't want my fears to stand in the way of your dreams."

I stayed silent for a moment, wanting him to know I'd heard him, that I was truly considering his words. He was watching me all the while; there was both restlessness and acceptance in his eyes. It was like he was trying to prepare himself. When I drew in a breath to speak, his fingers tightened around mine.

"You seem to assume," I began slowly, holding his gaze, "that my dreams involve things you can't give me."

He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to.

"Carlisle, I know what you're saying. I hear you, I do. And I ask you to hear me in return. The way I feel about you...I haven't felt like this about anyone ever before. You have to know that. And I know about your fears. When Edward told me about the accident," I squeezed his hand, wordlessly apologizing, "he made it very clear that staying in a relationship with you means I have to give up certain things. I'm aware of all this. I'm aware of what I'm giving up...by staying with you."

He regarded me carefully. "But...the thought of not becoming a mother one day..." He let out a quiet sigh, his eyes sad. "Doesn't it...isn't it at all painful to you?" He looked at me like he couldn't understand me. "Bella, despite what happened to Esme and me..." He drew in a shaky breath. "Despite what happened fourteen years ago...the short time I got to be a father...it was the happiest time of my life. I'd do it all over again, in spite of how everything ended. I wouldn't give up those four years we had with...with Alice."

The way he said her name...it was like it burned his lips as he spoke it. But it was also like...like saying her name was the only reason he was alive and breathing. Like even in death, she was the reason for his existence.

I squeezed his hand gently. It was a moment before I could speak; Edward had said he hadn't heard Carlisle say Alice's name in fourteen years, that the only person he could talk to about her was Esme. To have to him talk about this with me was...well, humbling. I hadn't expected this.

And the fact that he was talking to me about this at all meant he really wanted me to think this through. It meant he was desperate to make sure I understood the importance of this matter. It made me question myself a bit; was I taking this too lightly, after all? Had I really thought this through? I wanted to think I had, but was it the naive and inexperienced side of me talking? The truth was, I truly couldn't know what I was giving up. Parenthood was something I'd never experienced, after all.

But, when it came to matters like this...was experience the only thing that made you competent to make important, life-changing decisions like this?

A gentle touch on my cheek pulled me from my thoughts; Carlisle was watching me closely.

"You're starting to see what I mean," he said quietly. "And I'm glad you are."

I inhaled slowly. "Well, if your goal was to make me think about things, you succeeded."

He nodded, avoiding my gaze. I touched a finger to his chin, tilting his head, so I could see his eyes. They were guarded. It was like he was expecting bad news, and he was determined to accept whatever I had to say now.

"You got me thinking, yes," I told him softly. "But, it doesn't mean I'm ready to...reconsider."

He frowned. "Bella..."

I shook my head. "Just...hear me out. Maybe you think I'm naive and thoughtless, but I believe one shouldn't have to give up and sacrifice the good things you have in your life today, just because of something you may or may not want tomorrow. No one knows what's going to happen, after all. I might fall down the stairs next week and crack my skull and die.

"My point is...life's too short. And if things had turned out differently, if I'd never met you...if I'd met someone else instead, a man who wanted, let's say, twelve kids or something...if I'd fallen in love with that man instead of you, then I guess I would've been open to the thought of starting a family with him. But I didn't meet that man. I didn't fall in love with him. I met you. I fell in love with you."

Carlisle swallowed hard. When he spoke, his voice was just a whisper. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that...while falling in love is almost never a choice, loving someone sometimes is. And if you're asking me to choose between you and someone I've never even met, someone who wants children...if you're asking me to choose between a life with you and a life I may not even want...if that's what you're asking...then I choose you. Of course, I do. How could I not?" I gave a soft, quiet laugh and shook my head.

Carlisle didn't say anything for a long time. He just kept looking at me, like he couldn't believe what I'd just said. Like he was expecting me to take my words back any second.

"Of course, I believe this may be something you want now," he said quietly, "But what if you come to rethink these things in ten years, or in twenty? What if you end up regretting your choice? Could you live with yourself if that happened?"

I tried to choose my words carefully, wanting him to know I wasn't ignoring what he tried to say. But before I could say anything, he continued, his eyes dropping to the bed between us.

"Esme...she would've wanted to have another chance. What happened to our daughter...her fate never made Esme succumb to fear. She never let her grief rule her life, like my grief has ruled mine for all these years. She always dreamed of having more children, but by the time she met her new husband...well, her age became a factor. I've seen how much it pains her, how much she suffers for not being able to conceive anymore, and I..." He let out a slow sigh, shaking his head. "It makes me think about how... If I'd stayed with her after the accident...if I'd been the husband she deserved, if I hadn't pushed her away, then maybe..."

I touched a finger to his lips. "Carlisle, stop," I said quietly. "No more ifs, or what-ifs. Or isn't fourteen years of those enough? That one time you said to me that your life has pretty much been based on what-ifs and what-could-have-beens…it's time for that to end, don't you think?"

He gave me a sad smile. "I just don't want it to be you, Bella. I don't want you to have to regret anything. And if it turns out I'm the one to blame, if you someday end up questioning the choices you've made..."

"First of all, you wouldn't be the one to blame. I'm making an informed decision here. I fully acknowledge there are things you're not ready consider, and since I'm aware of this, I won't expect those things from you. There are a lot of couples out there who either can't have children, or choose not to have children, and they deal with it, and they're completely happy.

"I'm not discounting what you're saying. I just mean that, for some people, the decision not to have children isn't a sacrifice at all, but just a choice among hundreds of others. And if I do end up regretting my choice someday, and if I become this bitter, nagging middle-aged harpy, just because it suddenly occurs to me that I'm childless..." I gave him a small smile. "That's when I can get myself a punching bag to vent my pent-up aggression. And a good therapist."

He gave a soft laugh. "And let me guess. You deal with it and move on? You've made your bed, so you'll have to lie in it as well?"

"Did I make it sound too easy?"

He laughed quietly again, a sad sparkle in his blue eyes. "Maybe. But, you know, something tells me that's exactly what you'd do. You're the type of person who deals with her problems and faces them head-on. I wish...I wish I could be like you."

I shifted, resting my head on the pillow. "I'm flattered, but I don't always face my problems head-on." I thought about all those weeks I'd harbored feelings for him and hadn't been able to bring it up with him, in the fear of losing what we had. "Anyway, what makes you think you're not that person?"

He gave me a joyless smile. "The obvious fact that I've been living like this for these past years. I mean, the way Esme grieved was always much healthier compared to the way I dealt with what happened."

"I don't think there's a guide for these things. Everyone deals with loss differently."

Carlisle began to trace idle patterns on the skin of my arm. "That's the thing. I don't think I was...dealing with it. Not really." He paused, staring at a spot on the wall. "I think...it made Esme and Edward more worried than open grief would've. I can't really even imagine what I put them through by behaving like I did."

"You have to stop that," I said quietly. "You can't take the blame for everything. If you keep feeling guilty about every single thing, it's going to eat you alive. And also..." I waited until he met my eyes, and then I took his hand, lacing his fingers with mine. "I want you to stop feeling like I'm making some huge, irreversible sacrifice by wanting to stay with you. I don't want you to feel guilty about the fact that I choose you over having children. I want this with you, Carlisle. Don't ever doubt that."

A small sigh left his chest. "I'm not," he answered, whispering. "But–"

"No. No buts," I interrupted, holding his gaze relentlessly. "If you're already feeling guilty, if you already feel bad about my choice, what chances do you think we have?"

He just looked at me for a long while, just looked and said nothing. After a moment, he closed his eyes and nodded slowly. "You're right. If I keep feeling like this, it's going to come between us. I don't want that." He opened his eyes and squeezed my hand. "I want you to know, though, that you're under no obligation. You're still so young, Bella. You have a whole life ahead of you. You may come to change your mind about this, and if that happens, I want you to be honest with me and tell me about it, sooner rather than later. I won't hold it against you. Can you promise me, Bella? Can you promise me that, if you someday have second thoughts, you'll tell me?"

"Of course," I squeezed his hand. "If something's bugging me, of course I'll tell you. Honesty plays a big part is these things, you know. An old man like you should know that." That made him smile. "But Carlisle, get this into your head, please. Obligation has nothing to do with this. I want to stay with you. I could never just walk away from you because...I love you."

I felt a little nervous as I said that. Even though I'd already told him I was in love with him, saying the actual words, "I love you" felt...different. I was glad I said it, though. The look in his blue eyes was suddenly incredibly soft. He cupped my cheek gently, before tracing the shape of my lips with his fingertip.

"And I love you," he whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. All those days I was gone...I now feel like I wasted so much time."

"Or maybe not. Maybe you needed it – time, that is. And a few kicks in the butt from Edward."

He gave a soft chuckle. "And from Esme as well. God, she was furious with me, when she heard what I'd done - that I'd left. I've never been afraid of a woman before, but when she came to see me, she was..." He shook his head slowly.

I laughed quietly, giving him a curious glance. "About Esme. A few hours ago, you said she was the first person you told about me. What did you... Well, did you mean something by that?"

Carlisle avoided my gaze, his eyes growing serious. "I, uh...yes. I told her about you very soon after we'd met. She dropped by to see me one day and...well, she knows me very well, and she could instantly tell something was going on with me. The funny thing is, I hadn't even known you very long, and we'd barely spent two nights together. But still...still, I was already so...taken with you. For anyone else, that feeling can be extremely positive and uplifting, but for me..." he trailed off, searching for words.

"It wasn't for you?" I asked carefully, unsure how to feel about his confession.

"No. It wasn't. Don't take this the wrong way, Bella, but...it was frightening. I felt very off-balance and unsettled by the feelings you awoke in me. I had a tiny...well, I suppose you could call it a meltdown, and Esme...she was there to talk some sense into me and keep me from climbing the walls."

"That's why I didn't see you for a week," I realized. "And that's why you looked so...unwell the next time I saw you. I thought you'd been ill or something."

He nodded, giving me a sad smile. "Yes. Are you now beginning to realize what kind of a headcase I sometimes am?"

"You're not a headcase," I disagreed softly. "And I'm sorry, I guess, that I nearly made you climb walls. That wasn't my intention at all."

That made him smile. "I'm not sorry. Quite the opposite. Having a few mental breakdowns is worth it...if I get to keep you."

I chuckled. "That's probably the strangest compliment I've ever received. Thanks."

"I meant every word."

Giving a soft laugh, I eased closer to him to press a kiss on his lips. As I drew back, he was smiling, but his eyes were suddenly thoughtful.

"What?" I asked quietly, touching a finger to his lips. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

He gave a soft laugh; there was something forced about it. "Speaking of mental breakdowns...I wanted to tell you I'm back in therapy."

That surprised me. "Since when?"

He smiled with forced ease. "Since last week."

I reached out to stroke his cheek. "Carlisle, that's great. No, that's fantastic." I smiled, hesitating. "How is it going? How many sessions have you had?"

"Just one. As for how it's going, I'm not sure yet. It's not easy, that's for sure. I didn't expect it to be."

I nodded. "The most important thing is that you went back, even though you knew it'd be hard. You're taking steps forward instead of standing still." I paused, brushing a lock of blond hair away from his forehead. "Did Esme go with you?"

He shook his head. "She offered to, but...I don't know. It was important to me that I went alone. I don't know why. I can't explain it."

"You don't have to. You should do this your way, on your own terms." I rested my head on the pillows, and he wrapped his arms around me and drew me closer. We were silent for a long moment; I was still processing his small revelation. After a while, I realized I felt something like relief. Knowing he was back in therapy, that he had gone there of his own free will...it was a huge thing. An important thing.

I could suddenly feel him smile, and as I drew away to see his face, there was a new sparkle in his eyes.

"So," he said, his tone lighter now, "About this father of yours...does he carry his service weapon wherever he goes? Or does he keep it with him only when he's on duty?"

"When he's on duty. Why?"

"Just making sure. When I someday meet him, I guess I'll have to make sure he's not wearing his uniform. I have a feeling he might not like the idea of his young daughter being in a relationship with a forty-five-year-old man."

"Well, it's possible he'll turn purple when he first hears about it," I mused, making Carlisle laugh quietly. "But you know, I think it won't be a huge shock for him. My mom...she married a man who's twelve years younger than her. Who knows – maybe he's expecting a similar stunt from me. And besides," I smiled, reaching out to run my fingers through his hair, "Last night, someone I work with told me that my mental age is forty-five. So, we're not that far apart from each other, age-wise. In fact, I think we're very compatible."

Carlisle inched closer to me, resting his head on the pillows. "You know, I think you're right. We're...very compatible." Then, he caught my lips with his.

The kiss was both gentle and urgent, just like the touch of his hands was, as he pulled me closer into his embrace. There was something right about the way my body curved around his, about the way his touches echoed his words.

It was like our bodies, even our skins, knew about our undeniable compatibility.

I slept in the next morning, and when I woke up, at first, I didn't understand why I was smiling. Almost immediately, though, I remembered what had happened the previous night, and I opened my eyes and turned onto my back, slightly resentful of the fact that there wasn't a warm body pressing up against me. Soon, I discovered the reason for that; the bed on Carlisle's side was empty.

I sat up so quickly I got dizzy. What had happened last night...had it been just a dream? Was it possible? Could the universe be so cruel to me?

I ran an anxious hand through my hair. The movement caused me to become aware of something; my wrist was aching. A sigh of relief rushed out of me, and I thought idly that I'd never been so glad about having bruises before. Bruises meant I hadn't imagined any of it; last night after I'd left work, James had been there, and then Carlisle had arrived with Edward...

Where was he now, then? My apartment was quiet, and the bathroom door was open; he wasn't taking a shower. And since it was Sunday, he didn't have classes, either.

I scrambled out of bed and got tangled in the sheets in the process, landing painfully on my other knee. I cursed quietly as I picked myself up from the floor. Rubbing my knee, I went to the dresser and pulled on some underwear, and just as I was tugging on a t-shirt, Carlisle appeared at the door. He was fully dressed.

"What was that thump?" he asked, giving me a concerned frown.

I was so relieved about seeing him it made me feel almost guilty.

"That was me," I said, laughing softly. "The bedsheets attacked me." I gave him a curious glance. "Where were you? How long have you been up?"

"Not long. I was making breakfast for you."

"Oh? What did you make?"

He grinned softly. "Pancakes. How does that sound?"

"Perfect."

Carlisle opened his mouth to say something, but the doorbell rang. He cocked an eyebrow at me.

"Are you expecting company?" he asked, his tone playful.

"Maybe," I answered, smiling. "Who knows. Maybe it's one of my boyfriends. I have a whole harem, you know."

"Oh? And you're just telling me this now?" Carlisle chuckled and shook his head. "You're full of surprises, as always."

I rolled my eyes. "It's probably Rosalie. She's been checking up on me. Could you let her in while I get dressed?" It had suddenly occurred to me I was wearing only a T-shirt and panties. "A fair warning, though. She might be a little...surprised to see you here."

Carlisle smiled sadly and began to make his way out of the bedroom. "Don't worry. Whatever she's going to say to me when she sees me, I'm sure I deserve it."

I wanted to disagree, but before I could say anything, he was already gone. I quickly grabbed a pair of jeans from the drawer, and by the time I had managed to drag them on, I could easily hear Rosalie's high-pitched voice ringing through the apartment.

Uh-oh. She had switched to ranting mode in less than three seconds. That wasn't good.

Deciding that finding socks could wait, I hurried to the hallway towards her tension-filled soprano voice.

"Bella," she huffed as soon as she saw me. "What is he doing here?" She pointed a finger towards Carlisle, who was beginning to look more or less unsettled by Rosalie's loud outburst; I suppose he had underestimated how scary she could be when she was angry.

"Rosalie, just calm down, okay?" I said in an appeasing tone. "He came to talk to me. To apologize."

"Did he now?" she hissed and shot an annoyed glance at Carlisle. "Only took you almost three weeks. Jerk. Dick. Asshole. Coward."

"Rose–" I began, but Carlisle's soft voice interrupted me.

"You're right," he said to Rosalie. "You're absolutely right. I should've come earlier. But also...I needed time to realize...to truly understand what it was I'd walked away from."

Rosalie snorted. "That's bullshit. You knew what you were giving up. Needing time is a lame excuse. You're a sissy, that's what you are."

"Rosalie–" I tried again, only to be interrupted once more.

"You're absolutely right," Carlisle agreed again, nodding.

Rosalie was about to fling another accusation at him, but his words gave her a pause. Carlisle took advantage of her state of surprise and took a step closer to her.

"I was a coward," he said, speaking slowly and deliberately. "I let my own fears get the best of me. And by letting that happen, I didn't just harm myself, but I hurt Bella as well. I'm well aware of this, believe me. But I assure you, that'll never happen again. I'll stay with her as long as she wants me."

Rosalie narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "And why should I believe you?" she asked in a challenging tone.

"Because I love her," Carlisle said quietly. "I love her, and I was a fool to have ever tried to convince myself otherwise." He turned to look at me, then, giving me a soft smile. The look in his eyes...it was more than earnest. More than sincere. It calmed the storming oceans inside me.

The look he gave me seemed to have an effect on Rosalie as well. She dropped her arms to her sides, but the expression on her face was still tense.

"Alright," she said, her voice still sharp. "But please tell me I wasn't the first to hear that. Because maybe you should've told Bella first instead of me?"

"He did tell me," I assured her and walked over to Carlisle. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. "Soon after he nearly kicked the crap out of James, that is."

Rosalie's eyes widened at my words, and for a moment, she seemed to forget she was pissed off. "James? What do you mean? What happened?"

I told her how I'd been about to leave for home after my shift the previous night, when James and his two friends had gotten a little too friendly.

"Turns out he's even more frustrating when he's drunk," I stated in a dry manner. "Anyway, when I tried to go to my truck, he became a little aggressive. He even grabbed me, and that's when Carlisle and his brother arrived. Carlisle pulled him off me, and...well, I'm guessing that when James wakes up today, he'll find his butt is more or less bruised and sore."

Rosalie raised her eyebrows and pursed up her lips approvingly. "Huh. Well..." She gave Carlisle a speculative glance. "Well, I guess you can't be rotten to the core if you did that." When Carlisle gave a soft laugh, she shot him another sharp look. "I still don't trust you, though. And if you ever hurt Bella again, I'm going to go fucking medieval on your male parts. Is that clear?"

Carlisle looked like he didn't know if he should be amused or horrified. He cleared his throat quietly, nodding slowly. "You're free to do so. I'd deserve it," he answered. "If I ever hurt Bella again, I'll come straight to you."

Rosalie narrowed her eyes at him, apparently trying to determine if he was being sincere or not. This wasn't the first time Rosalie had gotten protective, and as much as I appreciated it, I wanted to tell her it was alright. As soon as I opened my mouth, though, Carlisle took my hand and squeezed it, wordlessly asking me to stay quiet.

Rosalie fumed silently for a moment more, her fierce eyes never leaving Carlisle's face.

"I want to believe you," she said eventually. "Because Bella really likes you. You're important to her. Don't you ever ignore that again."

Carlisle nodded slowly. "I won't. I promise."

"Alright." Rosalie crossed her arms again, looking from Carlisle to me. For a long moment, she just regarded us carefully. "Well, does all this mean you're giving it a real shot this time?"

I looked up at Carlisle, and he met my gaze.

"Yes, I suppose," he murmured softly. "Like I said...I'll be here as long as Bella wants me to be here."

I rolled my eyes. "You speak as if I'll suddenly just grow tired of you one day and point you toward the door. Not going to happen, believe me."

He smiled. "Well, I guess I'll hold you to that."

"You'd better."

Rosalie was still staring at Carlisle with narrowed eyes. Although she didn't seem as hostile as before, it was clear it would take some time for her to trust him again.

"Emmett and I were planning on going to dinner on Friday. Want to join us?" she asked. The sudden change of subject threw me.

Carlisle glanced at me, quirking his eyebrows. "Do you have to work?"

I shook my head, giving Rosalie a smile. "No. I have a day off. I guess we'll be there."

"Great. It's a date." Rosalie came to give me a swift hug, pressing a kiss on my cheek, and then she turned to the door. "I'll see you on Friday, then."

After she had closed the door behind her, Carlisle gave me a glance. There was an uncertain smile on his lips. "She's testing me, isn't she?" he murmured.

"Probably. I guess she wants to see if you're willing to do normal couple things." I gave a soft laugh. "I'm sorry she spoke so harshly to you. She's just very...protective. Even though we're the same age, she's like a big sister to me sometimes. Or at least she acts like one."

"It's alright. Loyal people like her are hard to find. And I'm glad you have such a...fierce friend."

I chuckled. "Fierce is the word."

He gave a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. He put his hands on my waist and looked at me closely.

"What?" I asked, wondering why he was looking at me like that.

He hesitated. "I'm just...wondering how bad off you were after I left...considering how furious Rosalie was with me just now."

I shrugged, avoiding his eyes. "I was sad, of course," I admitted. "I mean, how could I not be? But it's not as if I holed up in my apartment for days or something like that. And instead of building boyfriend bonfires, I got up in the mornings and went to work as usual. It kept me...sane, I guess."

He traced the shape of my eyes with the tip of his forefinger. "I noticed this," he said quietly. "You have dark circles under your eyes. I know it takes more than one sleepless night to look so tired."

I shrugged again. "Okay. So, I had some trouble sleeping. I'm sure I wasn't the only one."

He gave me a sad smile. His hands left my waist, trailing up and down my sides. "Are you hungry?" he asked. "Those pancakes are probably cold by now, but..."

I tugged at his arm, and he followed me into the kitchen. "I'm sure they're fine. But I think breakfast can wait for a moment more." I let go of his arm and grabbed the key Carlisle had taken out of the freezer the previous night.

He smiled at me. "Are you sure it's melted?"

"Quite sure."

"May I?"

I gave him the key, and then he took my hand and began to lead me towards my bedroom. As we stopped in front of the wooden chest of drawers, I gave him a nod.

"Be my guest," I said with a soft smile.

Chuckling, he unlocked the top drawer. After a moment, he pulled out my sapphire necklace, smiling as he secured it around my neck. Its small weight on my chest felt very comforting.

I noticed Carlisle was watching me intently; his eyes were a little sad. They were almost always sad, of course, but now...there was something different in their blue depths.

"I'm sorry I took it off," I said quietly; I had a good hunch about what was going on in his head.

"Well, I'm sorry I gave you a reason to take it off," he murmured, cupping my cheek. "I'm sorry I left like I did."

I shook my head. "No more apologies. It's behind us. I'm just glad you came back."

Carlisle stroked a finger along my jawline. He pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "And I'm...glad," he said slowly, "that Edward bumped into you at the café that one day. I know I was upset and shocked, when I found out he'd told you everything, but...I'm now glad he did. I should've expected something like that from him, actually. He's always been a little bit of a meddler."

I chuckled. "That's what I said – that he's a meddler. But he has a reason to be, you know. He just wants you to be happy."

He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I'm glad he kept his eyes open, then. I'm glad he saw something I was desperate to deny. If he hadn't told you about..." he trailed off, his expression sobering, and for a long moment, he just stared at a spot above my head, searching for words. "I know fourteen years seems like a very long time for anyone, but for me..." He shook his head. "I think a part of me still lives in that other life that came to an end that night. It'll always be so." He met my gaze and placed his hands on my shoulders. "Is that something you can accept, Bella?"

I gave him a sad smile. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yes. You are. But Bella, the things I said before I left all those days ago...I'm afraid I have to stand behind some of them. When I asked you if…if you're willing to be second best to a memory of someone I can't forget..." he blew out an unsteady breath. "It was a relevant question, I believe. One you should consider."

"Carlisle, I'm well aware there are things you can't leave behind, things you can't forget. And it's not like you should forget. She was your daughter, after all. These things are part of you for obvious reasons. And I'm not naive. I know my presence won't magically fix everything. I'm not expecting to cure your broken heart. I can't take away the reason for your nightmares. I can't take away the reason behind your sadness." I brought up a hand to cup his cheek. "Losing your daughter...I can never know how much pain you still carry because of what happened. I know you'll always carry that pain. I know I can't make those things go away. I just hope I can bring you at least some happiness...and I can make you at least a little less lonely."

He smiled softly. "You do, Bella. You do bring me happiness. A lot of it. I suppose I'm trying to say that, I...I wish I could be a complete person. Someone you deserve."

"I told you that one night, that you never needed to be whole. This," I placed a palm over his heart, "this is the person I fell in love with. And maybe...maybe the things that haunt you aren't always there to haunt you, if you know what I mean. Edward said..." I hesitated, licking my lips, "Edward said Esme could never even imagine moving out of the house you lived in before the accident. He said the memories give her comfort. One day, maybe it'll be that way for you, too."

"Maybe," Carlisle said quietly, but he didn't sound too certain. His hands dropped from my shoulders. "You know, I've visited her at that house only three times during the past decade." He shook his head. "When Esme remarried a couple of years ago, and when she told me she wanted to have the reception at the house...I almost didn't go. It was...cowardly of me."

"But you did go?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"And how was it?"

He shook his head. "It's...hard to explain. Mostly, I just tried focus on why I was there. I wanted to be happy for Esme and Bob – that's her husband's name – but I didn't stay long. Esme understood, of course, but at the same time, she didn't. Not fully. That house was always her home, even after the accident. But when it comes to me...returning there without her…" He swallowed, and Alice's name was in his eyes, even though it wasn't on his lips. "That house stopped being my home the moment I realized...she'd never come running through the door again."

I took his hand in a feeble attempt to offer him comfort. I tried to think of something to say, but no words were good enough. What could you say to a father who had buried his child?

Carlisle squeezed my hand, maybe to tell me he knew the words that refused to surface. It made me realize he'd probably gotten enough condolences over the years. Therefore, I said nothing. I just held his hand and reached out to touch his cheek with my other one. As I ran a thumb over his lips, I wondered idly what his smile had looked like, before that fateful night fourteen years ago.

I knew I had to accept the fact that I'd probably never know.