A/N: I don't know why but I just really love this chapter! I guess it's because things are finally heating up! Thanks to all of those who have reviewed including old friends like AliceSteepedinSadness, Ilithiya, and dazzeled10 along with new friends like twilighterz4lifeAlison (who was an awesome website called twilighterz4life, so check it out if you get a chance!) Also, thanks to those of you who have added me to your favorites and alerts. As always, please, PLEASE review! It is a great motivator to keep writing. I don't like to hold chapters hostage but please know that I do love your feedback as it helps with my story.

Disclaimer: I am writing this story because I am a fan of Stephenie Meyer and the Twilight Saga. I do not own any of the characters, plot lines or any Twilight-related materials. I only claim ownership to my own unique imaginings.

Whom I Love Alone

Chapter 3: Secrets

Carlisle's POV

I had a secret. I was in love with Esme. The six months since she had joined Edward and me were probably among the happiest times in my centuries of existence.

For a newborn, she had done extraordinarily well. We'd left Ohio and had moved to Cantaunaucken, a sleepy seaside resort on Long Island. This had afforded me the proximity of New York City working in one of the finest hospitals in the country while Edward was attending Cornell, studying medicine. I was extremely proud of him. He'd made the decision on his own but told me I had inspired him.

Esme stayed hidden in our isolated Victorian home on the shore where the three story gingerbread house stood alone on a bluff. She'd undertaken a massive restoration and design project, making the house her own visionary dream. She'd found she had an affinity for architecture as well as making the house a true home with her artistic eye. It was the first house that Edward and I could actually call a home and not just the place where we resided. I felt that had more to do with Esme's presence than any coat of paint or piece of furniture she'd brought in.

She and Edward had bonded almost immediately, much to my immense relief. However, I distanced myself from her as much as vampirely possible. It wasn't because I found her any less fascinating or intoxicating. No, quite the contrary. I desired her with a burning need that often frightened me in its intensity. In fact, I knew these were the very reasons I put that yawning abyss between us.

I was terrified that at any moment she would realize just how very deeply I loved her. And that would not do. For I knew as surely as I loved here, that if she did not exactly hate me, she certainly resented me. How could she not, when I'd so callously ripped away her choice from her and condemned her to this maddening vampire's existence?

I was proud of how easily she'd adapted to hunting animals. Luckily, there was a state park within an hour's run from our home, stocked full of deer and other small creatures such as foxes and the occasional bear or wild cat. If not exactly stimulating prey, they were certainly sufficient for survival. Edward made the occasional foray in the Canadian wilderness to satisfy his own hunting instincts, and I knew Esme had accompanied him on occasion. But honestly, she'd seemed just as content to hunt near our home.

I wasn't entirely certain as I took care only to hunt with her on very rare occasions and only did that to not rouse any suspicion on her part that I was avoiding her. But it frightened me to hunt with her. Not because I was afraid she would slip and go after a stray human. Her control was amazing. Instead, I was fearful to hunt with her, giving over to my instincts, being ruled by my senses, anywhere within her vicinity. Not because I was afraid that I would slip up and take a human or even physically harm her but that she would see the depth of my feelings for her—my inner protector coming out—instincts that no man could prevent from rearing its ugly head in the presence of the woman he loved.

I knew she was hurt by my demeanor. What I was not sure of was if the shadow of pain I often saw in her eyes was because of my indifference toward her or because she resented me for what I'd done to her. And I was a coward of the yellowest sort. I didn't want to know. I just wasn't sure if I could live with the answer regardless of the reason.

And Edward of course being privy to the depth of my emotions, never divulged what he knew, God bless him. Nor did he push me about it. I wasn't sure how he did it but he'd managed to balance each of his relationships with us, maintaining a parent/child bond with both me, his maker, and yet this generous loving woman who'd become a mother-figure to him seemingly without any effort at all. It was as if she'd brought incredibly strong maternal instincts with her from her human life although I knew she had no children.

Well, at least that she'd spoken of. It was an assumption on my part only because I'd observed the depth of her care for Edward and his well-being so I'd determined that if she had children, she'd have mentioned something even if her memories would have been hazy. I didn't resent their relationship though oddly enough. In fact, I was grateful for it. It somewhat eased my guild about the distant interactions I allowed myself with my angel.

Despite the distance, I was surprised that she never spoke of her human life. And she never had in the entire six months. Edward didn't speak much about his either but he certainly had in the beginning. Of course, as time passed, the already fuzzy memories dimmed further so I wasn't too disturbed by that.

But with Esme it was different. I was known for being an incredibly patient man but I found myself increasingly frustrated by this lack of knowledge about someone I cared for so deeply. I had never experienced romantic feelings like this before and I knew they stemmed from my own observations of her kind and gentle demeanor, how deeply she cared for my son, how she never complained aloud even once about the circumstances she found thrust upon her in her new existence. And of course that inexplicable thing called "chemistry" or physical attraction or whatever poets had deemed in much better ways than I about "true love".

And so it'd been the day that Esme finally put a chink in the wall I'd built around my heart when I'd unexpectedly found her in my study.

I'd come home earlier than usual from the hospital. It'd been a draining day. Despite my best efforts, I'd lost a young patient after a long bout with leukemia. A six-year-old boy with blonde hair and blue eyes named John. He'd had an indomitable spirit, an optimism that reminded me a bit of myself at his age. And yet, death hade snuffed out his promise prematurely. And I had been unable to stop it.

One would think with as many years of practice that I'd had with death and dying and of course, being a vampire, that it wouldn't hit me as hard as it had. But it still hurt. And though I knew it was impossible, I still went to work every day with the belief that I could save all of my patients.

So I'd come home weary. As a vampire, I never tired. But that day, I felt every inch the nearly 300 years I had seen come and go. Between losing John and all of my efforts to keep Esme at bay—in my thoughts, in my unbeating heart—I was defeated. With my thoughts on John and the devastation of his parents, I'd been startled when I'd walked through my study door—my haven from it all—to find the one person I most wanted to see at that moment and yet the one person I least needed to see at that moment.

Esme.

I must have said her name aloud because her head whipped around and her rose-colored eyes met mine. She was standing on a stool, tape measure in hand, in front of the gigantic bay window on the west wall. The fiery orange setting sun was streaming in and as she turned to face me, I stopped breathing.

The sun lit all around her making her cloud of caramel waves whisper as they settled around her shoulders like a rippling field of ripened wheat. Her skin sparkled with the tell-tale sign of her true nature but still breathtakingly beautiful as a million diamonds twinkled down on me. She had a man's white cotton button down shirt tucked into a pair of form-fitting khaki trousers her outfit showing how she curved so womanly in all the right places.

My eyes raked her body for I couldn't deny that I was greedy for these inadvertent moments to study her, storing up for later when I could torture myself as I wallowed in my pity party that she would never be mine. She could rival any of the silent movie actresses in her beauty I thought as my eyes traveled slowly back up from her feet until I reached her chest.

Oh good God in heaven! With the light breaking through the huge window I could see just how thin the cotton shirt was that she wore. With nothing beneath it. I could see the darker hue of the flesh facing me, peek-a-booing at me. I was transfixed until she nervously cleared her throat and I realized I'd been caught staring. Where I shouldn't have been. Now that was a sight I'd never forget as long as I existed. I was definitely going to be tortured by that sight for a long long time to come. Probably for eternity.

Her gaze was wary as she stared down at me. Without thinking, I slowly walked toward her until I was close enough to reach and touch her if I wanted to. And oh merciful heaven, how I wanted to! But I stood as still as a marble statue. I was sure I must have been glittering because she was looking at me with wonder in her eyes.

I felt warm as if the sun warmed my skin as it hit me. But that was impossible. I was sure the warm heat suffusing my body had everything to do with her heated gaze as it searched my face almost hungrily. Again, that was impossible. I was sure I was projecting my own feelings onto her and only imagining what I wished was there.

Then what happened next happened so quickly, I was never quite sure how it came about. One instant she was standing over me and her breathy voice breathed my name, "Carlisle. You're home." Yes. I was home. Because she was here. And in the next second she was in my arms. In the future, she would claim that I'd reached out and tumbled her into them myself. I had no memory of that. I would've sworn that she was already falling into my arms as I'd reached out and caught her as if from one of those silent movies I imagined her in from time to time.

I heard her gasp as her legs dangled over one arm while I supported her back with the other, cradling her to my chest. Her arms wrapped tightly around my neck as if she were afraid I would drop her. She needn't have worried about that. What she should be worried about is if I would actually ever let her go now that she was where she belonged.

I was lost in her startled gaze. It was the most physical contact I'd had with her in six months and I was hooked. My whole body tightened in response to the feel of her in my arms. All thoughts except for how very right it felt left me. As she gazed up at me, her perfectly shaped lips were parted and she was breathing in short pants as if out of breath after a long run.

The tip of her pink tongue darted out quickly tracing her full bottom lip as I'd dreamed of doing for so long. I only hesitated for half a second. I barely registered the slight widening of her eyes in recognition of my intent. My lips were molded to hers, our breath mingling as we both gasped.

I felt as if molten lava were running through me. I tried to tell myself to stop. That this was wrong. That I was forcing myself on her. But as I tensed, intending to end the kiss, she whimpered and her grip around my neck tightened. I felt her fingers thread through the thick hair at my nape.

Pure instinct took over as all thoughts fled my mind. I was consumed with her. Her mouth opened under mine and our tongues met dancing in a primal rhythm as old as time. I groaned in triumph as the animal in me took over, recognizing that this woman belonged to me. I could no longer deny myself.

Then all too quickly, I heard the front door open and close quietly. Somehow a little kernel of sanity told me Edward was home, would be walking by the open study door any moment. Esme must have heard it too because this time she allowed me to raise my head. I slowly set her legs down but enjoyed the delicious feel of her sliding down my body.

Her arms were still around my neck and she was looking up at me, her eyes dazed, her full lips moist and swollen from our exertions. I kept telling myself to let her go, step back, Edward would be coming up any second. But then I heard music drifting up from the conservatory on the first floor.

I wanted to tell Esme all that I was feeling, how full my heart was at that moment. But I couldn't. I was a coward. Sure, we shared a physical connection. That much was obvious as we both gasped for breath. But she was a newborn. Everything was more intense for a newborn—including hormones.

As I reached up, grabbing her arms to unwrap them from around my neck, I saw the disappointment in her eyes. Her mouth opened as if she were about to speak. I tangled her fingers in mine and brought her arms down to her sides. And she let me.

Her gaze was now cast down. I no longer had a window into her mind. She sighed so softly I almost couldn't be sure that she had. She looked incredibly sad and that pierced me to the core. I hated being the cause of her pain. It was the very reason I'd kept my distance.

But that wall had been breached and I was no longer certain I could put it back up. Or if I even wanted to. I wanted to erase the creases in her brow. I wanted her face to light up as she often did when she laughed at Edward's light teasing or when she was drawing up plans on her next project or working in her garden.

I didn't know what to say so I leaned forward and began feathering light kisses along those creases until I felt them smooth and then I moved to her closed eyes. I kept murmuring "I'm sorry" as I went along tracing a trail down her nose and then each cheek. Her breathing had speeded up again. I felt engulfed in jasmine. I placed a light kiss on her lovely lips, the briefest of touches knowing I'd be lost forever if I let it go as far as I wanted it to.

As I pulled back and looked down at my angel, her eyes slowly opened. I don't know what I expected, but the raw anger and hurt flashed at me from the depths of her eyes. I took a step back in shock. "Stop saying that!" she hissed at me. I could no longer bear it as the overwhelming guilt at having hurt her yet again rose up inside my chest like bile, choking me.

So coward that I was, I ran. Left her standing in the middle of my last safe haven. It was safe no more. She invaded every space both physical and spiritual that I occupied. I needed to escape so once I hit the door, I did not look back. Her last look would be forever seared in my brain.

And I was grateful that at least my secret was still safe. At least I had not disgraced myself by forcing my unwanted love on her. And I was determined that she should never learn that particular secret that I'd come very close to spilling that day. Never.

And so I buried it deep within my dead heart as I ran without knowing where I was going. As long as it was anywhere I would no longer smell jasmine and lotus. Finally my wish was granted as I crossed the Canadian border, immersing myself in a wide river, washing away any outward trace of the woman who was unfortunately absorbed into every molecule of my being. Now how to get rid of that?

That was the bigger challenge but one I was determined to conquer. Somehow. Eventually.

I sighed. Right.

Esme's POV

It was starting to get hard to keep all my secrets straight. And they were completely ruining my life. No wonder Carlisle had run out on me.

I stood alone in his study. The one place I felt closest to him although he didn't know that I'd taken to spending my afternoons in here most days that he was working.

I was in love with Carlisle Cullen. Another secret he didn't know. And I certainly knew that he was completely unaware that this had been the case since the first time I had laid eyes on him when I was sixteen. And still human.

But my life was so much richer now than it had been in those days that I was human. Even my human memories were in black and white like an old photograph, grainy and unfocused. Now my life was in color—the fullest brightest colors imaginable.

Except when it came to Carlisle. I know he thought he was subtle but honestly, you did not have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out that he'd been avoiding me since the first few days when I'd joined Edward and him. But , oh Edward, bless him. He had somewhat helped as I coped with Carlisle's complete indifference to me.

I felt as if I had gained a son. The bond had come so naturally and easy for us. Just as I had wished it had been with Carlisle. But he seemed determined to thwart any of my efforts, any small gesture that I made, at every turn. And I was frustrated and more than a little hurt. I just couldn't understand.

It wasn't that I thought that he hated me. I didn't see that. It was more that he just didn't care about me one way or the other. Of course, I never expected he would fall in love with me and certainly not to the depth that I loved him. But still, he didn't even care enough to hate me or at least not even like me. Not even one little bit. And that hurt much worse than if he had hated me.

As much as I loved Edward, I was starting to think maybe I should leave, give them their lives back. I'd obviously disrupted the ordered life that Carlisle craved. But I could not do it. I could not pluck up the courage to strike out on my own. So I'd channeled every bit of my energy into making Carlisle a comfortable home, someplace he would find some pleasure in.

And so I found myself in his study. I knew it was his refuge. He spent hours in there, locked away from me. I suppose finding peace in his books. Edward had tried to assure me that this was not unusual behavior but still I had worried. I didn't want to my savior to be unhappy because of me. And because he would not allow me to be close to him when he was home, I decided I would decorate his study for him. Plus, it gave me an excuse to spend time in the one room I did feel closest to him in. I just made sure to do it when he was at the hospital. Just in case.

So I'd felt guilty when I turned to see him behind me. I'd been preoccupied measuring the bay window when I'd thought I'd heard my name. I'd barely registered the shock on his face as I'd turned to directly face him. I was sure he'd be angry to find me in his private surroundings. But as I'd taken a closer look I could see the …weariness….yes, it had been weariness in his eyes. Had something happened? I felt concern well up in me. I couldn't help it. I still loved him even if he had no feelings for me and I hated to see him suffer.

His weariness threw me a bit off-kilter since we never tired. He even seemed a bit defeated. How I longed to reach out, brush the shock of pale blonde hair back from his forehead, trace my fingers across his perfectly sculpted cheekbones, rub them across his full lips. Touch those lips with my own until I took away the weariness and drove every last bit of his indifference right out of that huge bay window behind me.

Then as the sunlight had streamed through the window, I was mesmerized by his diamond-like countenance and the rainbows dancing all around my guardian angel as the light bounced off of him. I saw that his gaze seemed fixed permanently on my chest. That's when the fire began.

But this fire was so much more delightful than the one that consumed me during my change. Suddenly the fire raged out of control and I nervously cleared my throat. His molten topaz eyes met my own—so warm, so heated—like I'd never seen him before.

I was never quite sure what happened next as I was overcome with the naked desire in his eyes. I felt a small glimmer of hope that perhaps he wasn't quite as indifferent as I'd thought. Needing to break the tension or sure that I would burst into flames at any moment if I didn't, I found myself murmuring "Carlisle. You're home." I couldn't be sure it happened so fast, but I would have sworn his arm snaked out and tumbled me into his arms.

The next thing I knew, I was clasped tight to his chest and in the arms of my angel as I'd dreamed of for so long. I never wanted him to let me go. The reality of the heat ignited by his lips on mine, the feel of his stone-hard body against mine, the silkiness of his straw colored hair in my fingers, was a million times better than all of my fantasies about this moment combined.

But it seemed almost as quickly as it began, he was tensing up, attempting to pull away from me. And I was damned if I was going to let that happen when I finally had him right where I wanted him. Well, almost where I wanted him. But as the strains of music drifted up from Edward's piano, I finally understood. So that was why. As his lips met mine again, I moaned in exultation. He'd been pulling away because Edward was home, not because he didn't want me!

I felt exhilarated at the thought and gripped his head tighter as my mouth opened wider under his masterful lips and our tongues met and tangled together. A random thought appeared that I was grateful to be a vampire and didn't have that annoying need to stop the kiss to draw a breath. That meant that this delicious connection could literally go on forever. And almost as if reading my thoughts in the next moment, I found myself on my feet and he was untangling himself from my grasp.

Confusion bombarded my dazed mind. Why was he stopping? He kissed me lightly from brow to lips all the while punctuating his regret by muttering, "I'm sorry". A definite mood-killer. Suddenly the fire that had begun to burn n me thanks to his kisses slowly turned into an inferno of anger. Anger at myself. How could I have been so stupid?

He obviously regretted his hasty actions. He was a man after all. And he'd found a willing woman in his arms. God, ha d I been willing, I thought shamefully. I was sure he'd merely acted on instinct and didn't actually desire me. Why would he? He obviously found it distasteful to be in my company. He'd demonstrated that often enough over the past six months.

Well fine. He really didn't need to apologize. He'd made his feelings or lack thereof more than abundantly clear on numerous occasions. Besides, I found it pretty distasteful to be in my company as well. But I had no choice. It seemed my failures as a human woman had followed me into my life as a vampire woman.

Irritated and disgusted with myself, I heard my voice spit at him, "Stop saying that!" He stepped back as if surprised, a stricken look on his face. But before I could say anything else, he was gone. And just as quickly as it had burned out of control, the fire in my heart turned to a block of ice.

Because he'd left me. And I didn't blame him, not one little bit. And at the thought, my knees gave out on me and I curled up in the middle of his refuge, seeking the same solace that he found in his ancient texts, poetry, or whatever the hell else it was that he did in here in secret.

Besides setting me on fire with kisses I had no right to want. But oh how I wanted them! Now that I'd finally lived that particular dream, I'd never be able to live without them again. But if he came back , and I hoped that he did, that was just one more secret to add to my growing list that he must never find out.

Even failures had some pride. Just no dignity, I thought to myself as I brought my hand up and pressed it against my lips swollen with the evidence of my very real lack of dignity.