"There's nothing so beautifully genuine as a broken-hearted person's love.

For, in giving it, they are saying, "Yes, I have been burned to smoke and ash for the ones I have loved.

I have been devoured, slowly, then spat back out.

And the probability suggests you are likely to ruin me, too.

But here, have my heart. Take it. I'd like you to."

- Beau Taplin -

Something Deeper

"Ow. Ow. Ow."

Rosalie rolled her eyes at my quiet whining. After adjusting the light, she began to work on my other eyebrow, causing me to glare at the tweezers she was holding.

"Stay still, Bella," she told me. "If you're a good girl, it'll soon be time for ice cubes and some special aloe vera gel."

"Sounds wonderful," I mumbled, closing my eyes and trying to relax. At least the salon's treatment chairs were comfortable and soft. The only thing that stopped me from nodding off was Rosalie...and her tweezers. "Ow."

"Almost done," she promised. "You look terrible, by the way."

"Thanks."

"No, seriously. Is everything okay? You're very pale."

I forced my eyes open, knowing she had a good reason to ask that. All week long, I'd felt like I'd been run over by a train. Apparently, I looked like it, too.

"I don't know. I've been awfully tired lately. I don't know why. I went to bed at eight last night, for instance, and I slept like ten hours. But even so, I didn't wake up when my alarm went off this morning. Carlisle had to wake me. He said he'd actually made sure first that I was breathing and everything – I still don't know if he was being serious or not." I stifled a yawn. "Maybe I'm coming down with something. I can't remember the last time I've been so tired."

"I've heard there's some nasty bug going around," Rosalie murmured. She pressed something cool against my eyebrows, making me close my eyes in bliss. "Drink some lemon and ginger tea. It should help."

"I'll pick some up on my way home."

"How are things otherwise?" she asked. "How's it going with Carlisle?"

"Can't complain. Everything's...perfect."

"Does Charlie know yet?" she asked, her voice teasing now. "About your new boyfriend?"

"No," I moaned.

She laughed. "Why on earth haven't you told him? I'm sure he'd be happy to hear you're in a serious relationship with a man who's just a few years younger than he is. I don't see the problem."

"Hell is filled with people who have an equally bad sense of humor as you."

"What? I'm serious. Come on, Bella, it can't be that bad. At least Charlie can be assured you're not dating some immature brat. That should make him happy."

"You're thinking positively. And I like that. But I have a feeling that, when Charlie hears about it, he won't be focusing on the positive things, at least not right away. I have no idea how he'll react when I tell him I'm seeing someone who's twenty years older than me."

"Have you told your mom? That you and Carlisle are giving this a real shot?"

I nodded, closing my eyes; the lights of the salon seemed suddenly too bright. I wondered if I was going to have a migraine attack again – maybe that explained this awful exhaustion. "She called me a few days ago, and I told her. She's very happy for me. She seemed to like Carlisle, when she saw him at my birthday party."

"Did you tell her about his past? That he had a daughter?"

I shook my head. "Not yet. I felt like that wasn't something that should be discussed over the phone. I promised we'd go see her and Phil in a couple of weeks – Carlisle suggested it, actually."

"How do you think she's going to react? When she realizes what you're giving up by choosing to be with him?"

I shrugged. "Well, I don't feel like I'm giving up anything. Not really. I've never really seen myself as a mother. And I understand why the thought of having more children is so hard for Carlisle. I'd never try to make him change his mind about it. As for what Renée will think...I don't know. She's never said anything about wanting to have grandchildren. I'm sure one reason is that she's never wanted to pressure me into anything. She'll be happy as long as I am." I sighed in delight, as Rosalie spread something – probably that aloe vera gel she'd mentioned – around and over my eyebrows.

"Well, I'm with your mom. As long as you're happy, so am I."

"I am happy. It almost freaks me out sometimes to feel like this."

She chuckled. "Well, when you're freaked out, that's a good sign. It means there's something important going on in here." She tapped the spot over my heart. "And how's Carlisle dealing with all this?" she asked. "Is he still feeling guilty about not being able to start a family with you?"

"Well, he seems to believe me when I say I want to be with him, no matter what. But I do think he feels a little responsible, in a way. Like he's taking away my choices. I sometimes catch him watching me, like...I don't know, like he expects me to change my mind and walk out the door any moment. I'm sure the time of year has some effect on it, too."

"What do you mean?"

"It'll be the anniversary of the accident this Saturday. I'm sure he's got a lot of unhappy stuff on his mind." I paused, hesitating. "He told me he and Esme visit the grave every year...and he asked me if I wanted to come with them to the cemetery. Esme's husband will be there, too, and apparently, Edward and his wife will come as well."

"You sound...surprised. Did you expect he wouldn't ask you to go with him?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. I mean, this is something that seems so very intimate and private. This is a family thing. So, I guess I'm a little surprised."

"Well, I know this occasion won't be exactly light and happy, but...it's almost like he's making a gesture," Rosalie mused. "Like he wants to show you he's serious with you. That he wants you to fully be a part of his life. That's the feeling I get."

I nodded, agreeing. "I'm suddenly kind of nervous, though. About meeting Esme."

"Why? You've already seen her."

"Yes, but I haven't met her. I guess I'm a little...I don't know, intimidated by her." I gave a soft laugh. "She was so...classy and sophisticated, and curvy and well-dressed. I feel like a scrawny teenager whenever I even think about her. I can't help it. Even the way she was breathing was so elegant. And do you want to know how elegant I was this afternoon when I left the café? I walked into a door. And it wasn't even see-through, so I can't make excuses and say I didn't see it."

Rosalie laughed loudly. She touched my forehead, and I hissed; it was still tender. "I did notice you have a small bump here."

"What, you can see it?"

"Yeah. It's bruising."

I sighed. Rosalie chuckled softly. "Alright, Bella. So, you walk into things. So, you stumble every now and then. So, you wear jeans and T-shirts instead of blazers and tight skirts. Maybe you're not a ballerina or a fashionista, but you're you, and that's exactly why Carlisle fell in love with you. He doesn't want a copy of Esme, he wants you."

I nodded slowly, drawing in a deep breath. "I know that. And you're right. I think I should leave self-esteem problems for the teenagers. Besides...it's awfully cliché to be jealous of the ex-wife, isn't it?"

"Not to mention silly, if the ex is happily married to someone else."

"True." I cracked my eyes open, but closed them again, feeling incredibly sleepy. Rosalie wiped my eyebrows with something wet, and then she gave my shoulder a gentle nudge.

"Bella, if you fall asleep in my chair, I'm going to get some smelling salts. How does that sound?"

"Very unpleasant." I opened my eyes and yawned, slowly getting up. "Do you have another customer in line after me? Or are you done for the day?"

"I have a five o'clock coming in, but after that, I'm free. Do you want to do something? Catch a movie, maybe?"

"You know, I'd love to, but I have a feeling I won't be able to stay awake much longer. I have to take a nap. Another time?"

"Deal." She gave me a concerned frown. "Are you sure you can drive?"

I nodded. "I'll be fine. Don't worry."

She made me drink a glass of ice water before leaving the salon, and it made me feel more alert. It was raining outside, and as I headed to my truck, I turned my face towards the sky, letting the cold raindrops fall on my skin.

As I drove to my apartment, I was disappointed when I saw Carlisle's car wasn't there, but then I remembered he would be working late today; he'd said this morning he had papers to grade. Making my way inside, I shrugged off my coat and dropped my bag on the couch, thinking idly that he'd probably be hungry by the time he was free, and I decided to make him dinner.

But first, I retrieved a glass of water and took a painkiller. My temples were throbbing slightly, and I didn't want this to turn into full-blown migraine. I toed off my shoes and sank into the armchair, deciding to rest my eyes while the painkiller took effect. I realized I'd forgotten to buy that tea Rosalie had recommended. That was the last rational thought I had, before my brain shut down.

I woke up to the feeling of someone touching my shoulder. I jumped violently, and at first, I didn't know where I was, not to mention what time it was. I felt like I'd been asleep just a few seconds.

Carlisle was kneeling in front of the armchair, an apologetic expression on his face. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I'm sorry I'm late. Are you hungry?"

I tried to clear my head, feeling foggy and disoriented. "What time is it?"

"It's almost seven."

"Oh." I closed my eyes and straightened. My neck protested the movement – taking a nap in the armchair had been a bad idea. "I was supposed to cook for you," I murmured, frowning regretfully. "I didn't mean to fall asleep like that."

"Don't worry about it. I picked something up on my way here. Are you hungry?" he asked again.

I shook my head, trying to keep my eyes open, but they kept closing.

"Are you alright?" Carlisle asked, sounding concerned. "Are you ill?"

This time, I forced my eyes open. "I don't know. I feel weird. I thought it might be a migraine, so I took a painkiller. But I don't think it's that. I think I'm coming down with something."

He touched my forehead, frowning. "You're a bit warm. You're probably right – I heard there's a nasty virus going around. Some of my students were missing from class today."

"Maybe you shouldn't touch me. It's probably contagious."

"Don't be silly." He cupped my cheek tenderly, and then he touched my forehead again. I grimaced, as he ran a finger over the small bump; of course, it had to be still there. "What happened here?"

I rolled my eyes. It made me feel dizzy. "I walked into a door this afternoon. Go ahead. Laugh."

He chuckled softly. "I might," he said, "after I've asked you how hard you walked into it."

"Not that hard. If you think I feel weird because I have a concussion, that's not it."

"Just checking," he chuckled again, and then he took my hand and helped me up. "Are you sure you're not hungry?"

I nodded. "I really wanted to cook for you, because you had to work so late. I feel bad. But maybe it's better I didn't. I don't want you to get whatever this is. If you want to, you can stay a few days at your house – I won't be offended."

Carlisle sighed and rolled his eyes in amused frustration. Then, he grabbed my waist and pulled me against him, capturing my lips in a heated kiss that made my legs all wobbly and sent my head spinning. When he broke away from my mouth several moments later, my heart was racing, and I was out of breath. Despite my weariness, I suddenly felt wired in a very pleasant way.

"Like I said a few days ago, Bella," he told me softly, his eyes surprisingly serious, "I won't leave your side. And I'm not going to quarantine myself, just because you feel a little unwell. I'm staying here with you. In sickness...and in health, right?"

"Carlisle, that's a wedding vow," I murmured, rolling my eyes, still a little dizzy from his kiss.

He was silent for a long moment, stroking a finger over my cheek. "Yes," he answered slowly, "It is." He just watched me for a while, and then he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, steering me towards the hallway. "Let's get you to bed. You look exhausted."

I felt exhausted, too. So exhausted I didn't have the energy to wonder what his words meant. I let him lead me to the bedroom, feeling only half-conscious, as he helped me undress. After I'd crawled into bed, Carlisle pulled the covers over me, but I knew nothing about that; I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

If my mind had been a bit clearer, or if I'd at least stayed awake for a moment more, I would have realized my migraines had never started with fatigue this strong ever before.

Whatever mysterious bug was causing my weariness, I began to feel a little better as the week passed. I was running a slight temperature on Friday, and just to be safe, I called the café and asked for a day off. Luckily, I wouldn't have any shifts during the weekend, and by Saturday morning, I was starting to feel like a human again.

Not that I was focusing on myself that much – my attention was on Carlisle. When I woke up in the morning at his house, the bed beside me was empty. It didn't surprise me. Considering what day it was, I knew he probably wanted a moment alone.

That was why I didn't rush as I took a shower and got dressed. I took my time, and after blow-drying my hair and brushing my teeth, I walked through the silent house, finding Carlisle in the kitchen. He was standing in front of the large window that looked out onto the street, staring at the grey November sky. He turned as he heard my approach, giving me a small smile. He met me halfway as I crossed the kitchen to him.

"Morning," I said, as I gave his cheek a quick, careful kiss – I was still worried about making him sick, too. I chuckled as he wrapped his arms around me and dipped me down into a Hollywood-style kiss; apparently, he thought a friendly, innocent kiss on the cheek was no way to start the day.

"Are you feeling any better?" he asked me, pulling me against him. "You don't have to come with us today, if you don't feel up to it. Esme would understand, and so would I, of course."

I shook my head. "I'm feeling better. And…I wanted you to know I appreciate it that you asked me to go with you. I mean, this is a family thing. It's very personal, and...well, I'm honored that you want me there."

His blue eyes grew very soft. "Of course, I want you there," he whispered. "Bella, listen, I know the way we started off was..." He hesitated, searching for words. "Well, I'm just trying to say that I should've told you more about myself, about my life, much earlier. Way much earlier. I regret that I didn't."

"Carlisle, we've been over this," I said softly. "I understand why you didn't. Why you felt like you couldn't."

"I know that. But lately, I've come to realize that, by keeping certain parts of my life under wraps, I dishonor...Alice…" – he still faltered at her name – "…and it's the same thing as if I denied her existence. And I don't want to do that. Because she was really born, and she really existed, and her life made me a better person. And when she...died...it didn't only feel like she took a part of me with her – it felt like she took everything I was, everything I used to be, and everything I wanted to be. And that feeling...it has ruled me for a very long time."

He paused, his blue eyes full of shadows. "Not any longer, though. Fourteen years ago today, my life as I knew it ended. But my life as I know it now...it's very different from the darkness that used to hover over me almost constantly. The thought of never meeting you..." He shook his head and fell silent.

I took his hand and brought it to my cheek, smiling softly. "I love you."

"And I you," he answered and pulled me against his chest. "I don't want there to be any secrets between us anymore. I don't want there to be anything left unsaid, Bella. I finally realize that."

"No secrets," I agreed.

"If there's something we need to say to each other, we'll say it. Deal?"

"Deal," I promised and pulled back. "Sounds very good to me."

He smiled, placing a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth. "Would something else sound good? Breakfast, perhaps?"

I shook my head. "I think I'll pass. I still don't have any appetite."

He frowned, touching his knuckles to my cheek; his skin was pleasantly cool. "How about some coffee? Or tea?"

For some reason, even the thought of coffee turned my stomach. It was strange – normally, my day never started without caffeine. "Actually, tea sounds nice. Better than coffee, anyway."

Carlisle didn't seem to be in the mood for breakfast, either, and he had a cup of coffee while I nursed my tea. Before we had to leave, I made a quick trip to the bedroom, putting on an extra sweater; maybe the day was colder than normal, or maybe it was just me, but I was freezing.

We were silent, as we drove the short distance to the cemetery. I kept giving Carlisle worried glances every now and then; he seemed to be deep in thought. As we pulled into the parking lot of the cemetery, I noticed Esme and her husband were already there. Esme was holding a single, white rose in her fingers. Carlisle had brought one, too.

I was still a little nervous about meeting Esme, but as we got out of the car, the feeling disappeared. One reason was that she gave me no time to feel nervous; she rushed toward us with impatient steps, and after pressing a quick kiss on Carlisle's cheek, she turned to me and wordlessly enveloped me in a warm and tight embrace. I recovered from my surprise quickly and hugged her back a little hesitantly. I saw Carlisle exchange a slightly amused and knowing glance with the brown-haired man who had trailed after Esme; apparently, she was always this warm and familiar, even with strangers.

"Let the poor woman breathe, Esme," a familiar, teasing voice said somewhere behind me. "You're going to traumatize Carlisle's new girlfriend."

She chuckled and pulled away, but otherwise ignored Edward; I wondered when he had arrived. "Forgive me, Bella. It's just so nice to meet you finally." The smile on her heart-shaped face was genuinely sincere and warm. "I've heard so much about you."

I returned her smile, and then I forgot about my earlier nervousness altogether. I was introduced to Esme's husband, Bob Banner, and I learned he was a biology professor at the university – that must have been how Carlisle knew him so well, I realized.

Edward hadn't come alone; his wife and two children were with him. Irina was blonde and very tall, almost as tall as Edward, and she seemed to relate to his odd sense of humor with amused frustration. Their son, Seth, had the same green eyes his father did, and his blond, unruly hair was wind-blown and disheveled. He was a typical nine-year-old, full of pent-up energy, and Irina was having trouble making him behave. He kept still long enough to shake my hand, and then he darted off at full speed.

"Hey!" Edward called after him. "Remember what we talked about at home? No running in the cemetery."

"But we're still in the parking lot, Dad."

Edward rolled his eyes. "And you think this is a safe place to run around? That's smart."

Seth giggled.

"You know, the parking lot of the cemetery is haunted," Edward said offhandedly. "The spirits resting in those graves come out here to observe how young children behave. When it's daylight, they're invisible, but when the night comes..." he trailed off dramatically.

Irina smacked his arm. "Cut it out. Try not to be inappropriate, at least this once. And besides, you're scaring Elizabeth."

A little girl with bronze, curly hair was standing a few feet away from us. Her blue eyes were wide and fearful; as soon as Edward had started to talk about spirits resting in the graves, she'd disentangled her hand from her father's and had slowly begun to back away from our group, throwing alarmed glances toward the cemetery.

Carlisle gave me the white rose he was holding, and then he made his way to her, crouching down, so he was eye level with her. "Don't mind him," I heard him say quietly. "Want to know a secret? When your father was little, he always snuck into my room, because he was afraid of the dark. He claimed there was a monster under his bed. And he always, always slept with lights on."

A small, shy smile made its way to the girl's lips.

"Hey!" Edward's voice was mock-indignant. "You're destroying my credibility in front of my children. Not cool, Bro."

"I wasn't aware you had any credibility," Carlisle answered in a dry manner, lifting Elizabeth into his arms and carrying her back to us. "In any case, I suggest you re-evaluate your disciplinary techniques."

I barely heard their playful banter. Seeing Carlisle carrying a small child in his arms...there was something about the sight that made my insides shift and my heart waver. I glanced at the ground, blinking rapidly, thinking it was the cold wind that made my eyes water. Right?

What was the matter with me? Why was I suddenly so emotional? Sure, it was a sad day, and I knew the upcoming hours had to be hard for Carlisle. Of course, I empathized with him. But still, having tears in my eyes was...odd. Unexpected.

Irina took Elizabeth from Carlisle, giving him a sad smile. It seemed to remind everyone why we were here, and the quiet, light conversation ceased. Mr. Banner – or Bob, he had told me to call him – took Esme's arm and began to lead her toward the cemetery. Edward caught up with Seth and took his hand.

"Come on," I heard him murmur quietly, his normally playful voice suddenly heavy. "Let's go say hello to Alice."

Irina followed them with Elizabeth. I turned to look Carlisle's way, and I saw he was staring at the cemetery with dark, shadowed eyes. I went to him, giving him the rose, and he took it. Without saying a word, he offered me his arm. I slid my hand into the crook of his elbow, and after staring at the sea of gravestones one more moment, we followed the others.

I'd always found cemeteries both creepy and peaceful. When I'd been little, I remembered my grandmother had once said one shouldn't make noise when visiting a cemetery, because the people there were sleeping. For some reason, her words had stuck with me. When she'd passed away a couple of years later, I remembered I'd tried to walk very quietly, when I'd later visited her grave with my mom. Maybe I'd been afraid of waking someone up.

As we stopped in front of a small, marble gravestone a moment later, the wind seemed to turn colder. I stared at the letters and numbers carved into the stone, and I didn't feel just cold, then. I felt somehow heavier, older, as I read the name of the girl who'd never celebrated her fifth birthday.

Mary Alice Cullen, April 8. 1996 – November 14. 2000.

I didn't notice Esme was crying silent tears, until Carlisle suddenly went to her, touching her shoulder in a gentle, soothing gesture. Bob gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and then, he stepped back and went to stand next to Edward and Irina.

Carlisle crouched down to place his rose in front of the gravestone. Esme did the same; her fingers were trembling. Maybe it was the wind. Maybe she was cold. If she was, I was pretty sure it wasn't the weather that made her cold. Carlisle touched her shoulder again as they straightened, and then, Edward was suddenly there, placing one more white rose on the grave.

I heard Seth whispering something to his mother; the wind nearly swallowed his voice. "I thought we were supposed to say hello to cousin Alice. Why aren't they saying anything, then?"

"They are," Irina whispered back. "We just can't hear it, sweetie."

"But she can?" Elizabeth asked.

It was a moment before Irina answered. Her voice was very quiet when she did. "Maybe. I hope so."

The children didn't ask anything else. No one else was speaking, either. Probably because there were no words. At least that was how I felt like.

We left the grave a while later. Seth's energy was back, when he realized it was time to go back home, and Irina and Edward had to chase after him. Carlisle seemed to be somewhere far away, and I noticed Bob attempting to engage him in a conversation. That was when Esme fell into step beside me; it surprised me a bit. I slowed my steps to match my pace to hers, and that was why we dropped behind from the others. She was wiping the corners of her eyes.

"This is a beautiful tradition," I told her quietly, suddenly feeling like I didn't know what to say. "You do this every year?"

Esme smiled and nodded. "Now, we do – it was Edward's idea, actually, that we all go together. In the beginning...well, in the beginning, it was just me. Carlisle...he wouldn't come here for the first couple of years. He was afraid to, I guess. Seeing the grave...it makes it somehow more real, you know? But there's something...something healing about it, too. It just took him some time to realize it." She paused, giving me a sad smile. "And now...he just has to accept it as well. That there'll be healing."

I nodded slowly. "You don't think he's accepted it yet?"

Esme looked at the two men who were walking about a dozen yards ahead of us. "I think he's getting there. I sense something new in him, something I haven't seen in many years. You're the reason for it, I'm sure. And I want to thank you, Bella. Thank you for reminding him what life is really about."

"I'm not sure if I've really done anything," I disagreed lightly.

Esme met my gaze. "That's where you're wrong, dear," she said softly. "You showed him life isn't just shades of grey and black, or different levels of darkness. I was never able to do that, after what happened to Alice." She paused, searching for words. "I can imagine...that it hasn't been very easy for you, dealing with him – I know how stubborn and frustrating Carlisle can be. How easily he withdraws into himself. And how hard it is to bring him out again."

I hesitated. "I do feel...a little out of balance sometimes. From the beginning, I tried to respect his boundaries, and I was always worried about bringing up a tender topic, for instance. It was difficult, especially because I had no idea what was going on with him back then."

"And now that you do know?"

I considered her question, trying to find the right words. It surprised me a bit how openly I could talk to her – I had expected this to be more awkward, but it was like I had known her for much longer than just a few moments. But then again, Esme knew Carlisle, and she understood him, and that was probably why I found it so easy to talk to her about these matters.

"I don't know. Now, I feel like I have better chances at understanding him, but sometimes, I still feel like I'm tiptoeing around him, you know? But it could be my uncertainty talking. I sometimes feel...inadequate. I want to be there for him, but I have no idea how. I have no idea what he's going through. Since I've never had a child, I've never had to lose one. I don't know what you two have been going through for these past years, so I feel like...I never know what to say."

Esme nodded. "You don't have to know," she said quietly. "And you don't have to say anything. Just be there. Keep doing what you've been doing. I know, it must sound silly and not helpful at all. But the truth is, there's a reason why you've gotten this far with him. It means you're doing something right. And he really likes you; I could see it from his eyes, when he first told me about you. He was scared out of his mind, you know." She chuckled and shook her head; the memory seemed to amuse her.

I gave her a small smile. "I guess I owe you one for that. Carlisle told me you were there, talking some sense to him and keeping him from flipping out completely."

She chuckled again. "You owe me nothing, Bella. On the contrary. I can't even tell how glad it makes me to see him happy with someone. To see he's no longer alone. I've been praying for this to happen for so many years. If only..." she trailed off and shook her head, her brown eyes suddenly sad.

"What?" I asked, something about her expression catching my attention.

She gave me a small, sorrowful smile. "If only he'd let go of...all of his demons. A young woman like you..." She fell silent again, but she didn't need to finish her sentence. I knew what lay behind her words.

"We've discussed that. I know that...it'll be just the two of us," I said slowly. "I'm okay with it. I just want to be with him. That's more than enough for me."

Esme nodded, accepting my words. "Well, that's what matters the most."

We were almost at the parking lot by now; Carlisle and Bob were still deep in conversation, and I was relieved to notice there was more life in Carlisle's face now. I wondered if leaving the grave was always easier than going there. Maybe.

Edward and Irina were ushering Seth into the car; I noticed the knee of his pants was torn. I'd suppose he hadn't obeyed Edward's command not to run in the cemetery, or maybe he was trying to find out if his father's words about the restless spirits were true or not. I wondered if he'd sleep with a flashlight tonight.

Before we reached the cars, Esme touched my arm and stopped me. She pulled a pen and something that looked like a business card from her pocket, scribbling down a number on it.

"This is my cell phone number," she told me, giving me the card. "There's a number for my office as well, if you ever need to reach me. I'd like to get together sometime. And if you ever just need to talk..." she smiled warmly.

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind." I was very touched by her gesture.

"You and Carlisle should come to dinner some night. I know he doesn't like to come to our house, because it reminds him about things too much, but..." She let out a quiet sigh, her brown, kind eyes suddenly very earnest, almost desperate. She took my hand and held it tightly. "Maybe...it'll be different for him someday. Maybe he'll learn to see things like I've seen them for a long time now. I don't mean to put too much pressure on you, Bella, but...I have a really good feeling about this. About you and him. You'll do all you can to help him, won't you?"

"Of course," I promised, a little taken aback by her outburst. It was easy to see she still cared about Carlisle very much, and his well-being meant a lot to her. "I'll talk about the dinner thing with him. Let's see what he says."

She smiled. "You know, I have a feeling that, if anyone's going to convince him, it's you. He has a soft spot for you, that much is obvious. Edward thinks so as well."

I gave a confused laugh, not knowing what to say to that; her words flattered me. For weeks, my relationship with Carlisle had rested on such uncertain foundations, that it still felt almost unreal that we were here now. That we were truly giving this a real shot. It was more than I could have ever hoped for.

I remembered my earlier uncertainty, whenever I'd been even thinking about Esme, and as I watched her now and saw how she interacted with the people around her, I realized it had been a waste of energy, being nervous. After exchanging a few more words with me, she went to Carlisle, giving him a warm embrace and whispering something in his ear. Carlisle smiled sadly and nodded. He pressed a soft kiss on her cheek, and then Esme pulled back, taking Bob's arm. They headed to their car, after bidding farewell to Edward and Irina.

Carlisle was very quiet on the drive back to his house. He still appeared to be deep in thought, and I didn't quite know how to approach him. He didn't seem troubled or depressed, only pensive. I'd expected this day and the visit to the cemetery to cause more anxiety, but his expression was calm, almost unreadable.

"Are you okay?" I asked, as he signaled and turned onto his street. My question seemed to break through some hard, invisible wall he'd raised against the world. He gave me a quick glance, almost as if he'd only now realized where we were. After he'd pulled up in front of his house and cut the engine, he let out a quiet, long sigh.

"I'm...I'm getting there," he said slowly, giving me a distracted smile. "I suppose I keep thinking about all those times I've come home from the cemetery by myself. I always refused to admit how hard it was to walk into an empty, dark home. And for the first time in years...I feel like I can breathe, as I walk through that door," he nodded toward the house. "When I woke up this morning, for the first time, I felt like I might actually...survive this day. The feeling was surreal." He shook his head and looked at me, taking my hand and bringing my knuckles to his lips.

The look in his eyes was intense, so full of some unspoken feeling, that it made me feel almost nervous. In a pleasant way, though. I was too lost in his gaze to say anything, and as he reached out a hand to cup my cheek, I closed my eyes. When I opened them a moment later, I noticed he was frowning slightly.

"You're still a bit warm," he noted, pressing his hand to my temple. "Maybe you should've stayed home, after all. I'm sure the cold wind didn't help you get better."

"But I am better," I insisted. "I guess I just managed to catch some annoying, persistent bug, that's all. A lot of people pass through the café, after all. There are germs everywhere. The new waiter was sick last week, too."

"Well, in any case, let's get you inside. Better to be safe than sorry."

He got out of the car, and after I'd stepped out myself, he closed the passenger door and wrapped an arm around my waist. We made our way to the front door and entered the silent house, and after we'd gotten rid of our coats, Carlisle suddenly took hold of my shoulders and pulled me against him.

"Thank you for coming today, Bella. It means the world to me that you were there – that you're here. I don't say that nearly often enough." He pulled back and framed my face with his hands, pressing a soft kiss on my forehead.

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be," I answered, wrapping my arms behind his neck and holding him close. I couldn't see the smile on his lips, but I could feel it. It was in the touch of his hands, as he took hold of my waist, and it was in his quiet breathing, as he pressed his face into my hair.

It occurred to me only later that I began to feel it, too, what Esme had been talking about. She'd said she'd sensed something new in Carlisle, something she hadn't seen in many years. Maybe it was hope. Maybe it was trust and faith in tomorrow. Maybe it was something else, something deeper, or maybe it was all those things combined. And even though I had never had to experience all those horrible things Carlisle had once been forced to go through, I, too, began to catch glimpses of that new, wonderful sense of peace that had settled over him. Over us. I, too, began to feel as though everything was going to be okay. Like everything was right in the world.

Like the universe itself was in perfect alignment.