A/N: Thank you to all who have written reviews and added me to your favorites/alerts. It is very humbling and very inspirational. I know many of you are contributors as well and I truly appreciate your feedback. Because of that, I want you to know that I always leave reviews for the stories I read as well. So for those who have read my last story, you will see a familiar character in this one. Please forgive my divergence from the Twilight canon but I have found this new guy very intriguing and have an idea brewing for him as well. I'm sorry that there's not much togetherness in this chapter but again, it is a bit of set-up. There are only a few chapters left. Oh, also as a treat for those of you who love my Alice/Jasper story, I have another idea for them, that I will take up after my next story. I think you will be pleased. I know I really miss them! Thanks again dear readers!
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 4: Friends
Carlisle's POV
It was good to be home. Well, almost home. As the waves crashed from below, I stood in a copse of trees just to the left in front of the gingerbread house. Hiding. Well, not exactly hiding. Contemplating. How best to approach my new plan. Admit I'd been wrong. Beg for Esme's forgiveness. All without completely shredding what little pride I had left. Easy enough.
I could see a light on in my study on the second floor. I wondered if Edward was in there reading. A small part of my heart hoped that maybe it was Esme. Maybe she felt close to me if she was in my study, surrounded by my things. Maybe she missed me. A small sigh escaped me.
Of course I was being ridiculous. But I did hope she was still here. Now that I'd gotten some perspective in my two day hiatus. If I'd driven her away for good with my abrupt departure, I didn't know what I'd do…I mean, I wouldn't blame her. As shabbily as I'd treated her since she'd joined us…that alone would be grounds enough for her to go out on her own.
But now that I was resolved to be her friend, well, I really hoped she hadn't given up yet. I really wanted a second chance to win her trust. More than anything I'd ever wanted. What was I saying? I wanted her more than anything I'd ever wanted. But baby steps. Victor had made a good point and I just needed to stick with the plan.
Once I'd hit Canada, I'd made a detour to Winnipeg to meet an old friend. I'd first met Victor Cambridge when we'd both attended Christ Church College in Oxford in my human life. He'd been a few years older than me but we'd formed an easy camaraderie. We'd both felt the burden of taking up a profession our fathers expected but we were reticent to do. Our situations had been slightly different.
He was the second son of an earl and really his only choices were the military or clergy. When his father had refused to buy his military commission, that had left his last resort. Blessed with much charm and a favorite with the ladies, this had not sat well with the dark-haired, well-built lad. He knew he could've drawn much more female attention with a handsome red uniform, but he was at the mercy of his father so the clergy it had been. The debauchery, well, that didn't quite come to an end. And eventually had condemned him to the eternal existence he now lived.
We hadn't been bosom pals and after a few years, our social circles widened until we saw little of each other. While not a prude, even as a young man, excesses had never really been an indulgence of mine. And then, well, before I could finish my education at Oxford, my father had forced me to go on that fateful hunt.
I did not see Victor again, until many years later, when imagine my surprise to find him in Volterra of all places. We'd both been shocked to see the pale versions of the young men we'd both been decades before. There had been one subtle difference. My topaz eyes in contrast to his crimson ones. He'd been intrigued by my "vegetarian" diet, but at the time not quite ready to commit.
I didn't see him again until nearly a century later and by then he had dedicated himself to the vegetarian lifestyle. He never said much about his disillusionment and break with the Volturi but his topaz eyes told the story for him if his experiences with Aro and his brothers had been anything like mine.
Victor had been living outside Winnipeg for a few years now. He was what I might politely term, tortured, for lack of a better word. He was drawn to do penance for his innumerable past sins and debauchery that had continued long into his vampire existence, using his charm to kill indiscriminately, particularly drawing in females just as he had as a lusty university student.
These were his words, not mine. I had tried time and again over the years to get him to forgive himself but his eyes would flash angrily as he'd run a hand through his thick dark hair and say it was not his own forgiveness he was concerned about, but God's. "And that should take the rest of my existence!" He'd exclaim in his rich bass voice, a wry smile breaking the dark cloud on his perfectly strong-angled face.
Right now, he was serving his penance in a remote Benedictine monastery outside of Winnipeg where the brothers asked no questions and Victor was left free to roam the Manitoba wilderness to satisfy his hunting needs.
He'd been more than a little surprised to see me. And actually, I'd been more than a little surprised to find myself outside the spartan stone building that served as the monks' home. I had not intended to go so far. It'd just started out as trying to put some distance between Esme and myself to keep from hurting her any more than I already had.
But it still wasn't far enough. Even as I looked into the surprised pale countenance of my old friend, only one image dominated my mind. Esme. Surrounded by sunlight and all of my collected treasures over the years. And yet, she was my most prized treasure. I would trade all of it for that one moment we'd shared in the study.
I was slowly realizing I could not outrun my feelings for her. So when I'd seen the "Welcome to Winnipeg" sign, I'd decided to make a pit stop and connect with my old friend. Someone who could relate to feeling pretty lousy about the choices one had made. Perhaps he could help me find the perspective I so desperately needed as he had so often over the years as we'd debated right and wrong, good and evil, what we deserved.
He quickly overcame his surprise and we took a meandering walk through the vineyards next to the monastery so as to not rouse any suspicion on the part of his fellow monks. As we walked in silence until far enough away to have no worry of eavesdroppers, I felt a small smile touch my lips as I thought of how Victor seemed to gravitate to different religious lifestyles in his quest to atone—a demon among angels. I wish he wouldn't punish himself so, but I did admire his dedication.
The sun was fading in a final burst of oranges, pinks, and purples. I idly reached out and plucked a ripe grape, gently rolling it between my fingers. Victor walked at my slow pace beside me, a stark contrast in his brown woolen cowl. He was a good head taller than me with a large athletic frame to go along with his strong jaw and sharp cheekbones. He'd never needed the vampire's camouflage to draw the ladies in but it hadn't hurt him either. However, since his dedication to atonement, his eyes were solely on that task. No woman had been able to tempt him in I don't know how many decades now.
I knew I wasn't unattractive, but I'd certainly never drawn the interest that he had from female companions either while human or vampire. I'd been considered a thinker, a scholar. Definitely not the sparkling conversationalist Vic had been. And now there was only one female I desired above all others as a companion and ironically, I was the one she didn't want.
After a few minutes of companionable silence, Victor finally cleared his throat. I still had not spoken, had not said what brought me here. Finally he broke the silence. "So…" His deep voice trailed off. I heard the question in his tone even if he didn't say it aloud.
Twilight had descended, usually a peaceful time for me. But not now. I felt no peace. I'd determined that was because anywhere away from Esme was not peaceful. I looked up and saw the evening star twinkling down. A small sigh escaped me. "So." I returned.
I turned to find Victor staring intensely at my face, his thick black brows knitted in concern. I gave a quick, tight smile meant to reassure but I realized it must never have reached my eyes because his frown deepened. " You know you are always welcome, my friend. But if you don't mind me asking, what the hell are you doing here?"
A harsh chuckle jerked out of my throat involuntarily. I clapped a hand on his broad shoulder. "I'm not really sure myself. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Where do I even start?" I frowned as I tried to figure out how much I should say. All of my emotions were a big rolling storm inside me and I hadn't even figured them out for myself yet.
His quiet tone cut through my thoughts. "I find the beginning is usually a good place." We'd continued our walk. I kept my gaze forward looking into the endless horizon as more and more stars appeared in the darkening night sky.
"Victor, I've done something terrible." His motion stopped and he jerked in my direction. A sidelong glance confirmed the shock I knew would be on his face. His lips moved upward in a half-smile. "And so you've come to join me in penance."
A mirthless laugh escaped me. "Alas, no." I paused. "I should." I hastily added. "But I could never leave Edward." Or Esme, my inner voice whispered.
"I would ask if you finally took a life, but I can see from your eyes that is not the case." I could hear the very real curiosity in his tone. Victor, like the Voluturi, had always been fascinated by my resolve to never take human life for my own sustenance.
"Not in the way you mean." I responded. His gaze was questioning but steady. I found myself turning away, looking in the distance again. "She was dying. I had to save her. I don't know why, but I did. Her scent…I remembered." My words came out in a rush then trailed off as the memory of her scent filled my nostrils. An impossibility but still seeming so very real as if she were right next to me. I drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to steady the slight tremble that ran through my body at her mere memory.
This is ridiculous, I thought. She's hundreds of miles away and just the thought of her affects me as if she were the one standing in the vineyard with me. She'd love it here, I thought before I could stop myself. Get control of yourself! My inner voice was back. Imagining romantic rendezvous' with her everywhere I went is what got me here in the first place.
"Save her? How exactly did you 'save her'?" The misery overwhelmed me washing up from my toes until I felt a faint throb behind my eyes. I looked toward the sky, almost as if asking for some kind of reprieve. But there was none. "I changed her." My voice was so soft, it almost made no sound. The guilt weighing on my chest throbbed as if my heart was about to start beating again.
As the silence grew, I couldn't stop myself. I rolled my head to the right. Victor looked perplexed and his mouth kept opening and closing as if he were searching for words, finding them and taking them back at the last second. I knew he would never condemn me. Not when he considered his crimes to be so much greater than mine. But he was wrong. I had yet again failed and let my selfish nature shine through. It wasn't bad enough that I'd condemned Edward to this existence with no choice in the matter. But now Esme as well.
"You changed who?" I guess he finally found a safe enough question.
"Esme." Her name came out in a whisper and I felt a stab in my heart just at how good and how very painful it was to have her name on my lips. I gave a slight shake of my head. This had to stop. Self-pity would get me nowhere and I was starting to annoy myself. I couldn't imagine what Victor must be thinking. This was not who I was. I focused more on the feelings of those around me, caring for others. At least that's who I used to be. Until her. And my rash decision. This is why I had always put so much store in reason, surrounded myself with books, prided myself on my rationality. It was time for me to get back to that old Carlisle.
I straightened my shoulders and turned to face Victor straight on. I cleared my throat determined now to light my path in the right direction. As I looked at my friend's confused face, I felt a chuckle rumble in my chest. Yes, he was a handsome devil but at that moment, I wished nothing more in the world than for him to be slender woman with curves in all the right places and soft caramel-colored hair and the sweetest smile to match. I wished she was here so I could say these things to her. Then again, I'd probably chicken out.
"She's an angel, Vic. You should see her. But she's just as beautiful inside as out. I couldn't resist. I couldn't bear to see her pass from this life. I can't explain. I just acted on pure impulse. So unlike me." I flashed a quick smile and he grinned back, nodding. "And she's amazing. She treats Edward like a son. She's so loving toward him, so nurturing. I didn't realize how much he needed a mother's touch until she came along. She's made our house a home. She never complains." My eyes drifted to the distance as all of my memories for the past six months flooded through my mind.
Victor gave me a hard look. "Sounds perfect. So what's the problem?" Yes, what was the problem? It was harder to conjure up now, my body singing in response to my final memory of our encounter in the study. And then I remembered the look on her face. That horror-stricken look as I'd unwrapped her arms, the angry tone in her last words to me. Right. Big problem. I took her life away and she hated me for it.
I must have said it aloud because suddenly Victor threw back his head and let out a hearty guffaw. With a final snort, he looked at me the laughter making him look so very young as he gleamed in the moonlight. "Oh Carlisle. As long as I've known you this has been your biggest problem." I felt a little prick of resentment at his words. He clapped me hard on the back and it sounded like a small clap of thunder.
"You care too much what others think. Don't get me wrong. It can be very noble at times. I know that many lives have been saved because of that concern of yours. And if you didn't care, you would never have ended up in Oxford or as my friend." He paused and his smile got wider. All I could see were his full set of razor-sharp teeth. Lucky for me I wasn't a human. I would have been terrified.
He continued, "But did it ever occur to you that if you hadn't acted, this wonderful woman you obviously care about and has brought so much joy to your son, would be dead? You gave her life. You didn't take it away. And if she's half the giving woman you've described, then she doesn't hate you for that. She's probably grateful." He raised one shoulder in a half shrug as if this should be obvious to me.
I looked at him warily, afraid to hope but not able to deny the slight flicker in my gut as his words sunk in. "You love her." His tone was sober now and he said it matter of factly. "More than my life." The words poured out without thought. That was getting to be a bad habit. But I wouldn't take them back. There were never truer words.
"Then go back to her. Tell her. I'll bet you'll be surprised at her reaction." Oh, I bet I wouldn't.
He must have seen the resistance in my eyes. "All right then. Start slow. Be her friend. Let her get to know the real you. Not the guilt-ridden martyr you are being right now. That man is definitely no fun to be around. But the real Carlisle, well, he can be quite charming when he wants to be. And the best of friends." I absorbed his words. He was scrutinizing my reaction.
"You want my advice, friend?" I looked at him. I didn't respond. I knew his question was rhetorical. And he knew I valued his advice always. "Go home. Be there for her. When the time is right, you will know. And if not, well, we can always use help picking grapes." His wide bright smile lifted my heart and I felt my head nodding in agreement.
I reached out and grasped his hand in a firm shake. "How did you get so wise, my old friend?: I grinned at him feeling a little giddy at the thought that I would soon be back in my beloved's presence. He returned my grip and said, "I guess I've just listened to my much wiser friends over the years. Now go. We will meet again."
I let go and he grasped my shoulder before I could take off. "Oh, and Carlisle? Don't screw this up. I don't know anyone who deserves happiness more than you." I saw a shadow flicker in his eyes at those last words but I didn't take the time to ponder as the thought of Esme pulsed through me and my steps urged me faster and faster toward New York. And home.
And so here I stood. Still debating what to do. What to say. But before I could decide, I saw her. Or her outline at least. She was standing in the window of the study, her arms crossed over her chest. She was looking out over the sea. At least that was my guess. With my vampire's vision, I was actually able to see her face, even at this distance. I felt my breath hitch in my throat with the agony and the ecstasy. Ecstasy to see that she was far, far lovelier than even in my sharp memory. My memories did her no justice. The agony because she looked so very, very sad. Almost broken in a way.
And instinctively, I knew I was the cause of that look. Angels should not look like that. She looked like she desperately needed a friend. And I knew just who she could count on. The best friend she would ever have. Whether she wanted me or not.
Esme's POV
I'd never longed to have a friend more in my life. Even in my human life when my violent husband had made my life a living hell, isolating me from all others, dooming me to the loneliest of existences. It had been nothing compared to the absolute devastation I'd felt that past two days since Carlisle left. A bitter upturn forced my lips up. No, I was wrong. This was the loneliest of existences. Because the only friend I wanted in my whole world, well, he didn't want to have anything to do with me.
As I looked out into the darkness, my eyes on the very man who meant more to me than anything. The very man who had run out two days before with not a word to either me or his son. I knew Edward was worried. I knew that this had been completely out of character for Carlisle. But aloud, Edward only voiced that I shouldn't take it to heart, that he would return.
I knew he knew what had happened between us in the study. Only because I'd replayed it a million, okay maybe a billion times in my mind. Poor Edward. I sighed as I thought about how very uncomfortable that must have been for him. And how very sweet he'd been to me. He was truly a thoughtful considerate boy. And so discreet.
I couldn't take my eyes off of Carlisle. I had no idea how long he'd been standing in the small group of trees in front of the house. But I'd been drawn to the window and now I knew why. Because he was my sun. And I was his planet, everything about me pointed toward him, revolving around him. He warmed me, he gave me light, he kept my life going. I'd been a shell without him.
I found I couldn't leave the study. I kept lovingly running my hands over all of his leather bound books, picking up his model frigate, looking at the paintings I'd found in the attic and hung on the west wall. The paintings that told the story of my love's life. Well, the story I imagined. He'd never actually told me of his old life. Told me much of anything. But I knew he must be from London. I knew I wasn't the only one who thought of him as an angel. Some other painter had as well, capturing him so perfectly, so gloriously.
I knew he loved poetry. There were volumes and volumes, some so old and brittle, I'd been afraid to turn too many pages. Tucked behind one of the larger tomes, I'd found a small brown leather bound book. I maneuvered until I was able to pull it out. It had faded gilt letters that said Eternal Love. As I'd opened it, I found so many obviously well-loved passages.
It was a book of sonnets. A few had dog-eared pages, some had notes in the margin. I spent hours lovingly tracing his elegant scrawl, reading the words that had obviously moved him, finding myself as entranced. Every word about love and eternity was a stab to my heart. My Carlisle. This was who he was. Did he know it? He was pure love. Eternal love. If only he could see that.
I shuffled through the pages and then the book just opened to about the middle. I guess it was a page he turned to often. I noticed that there were two sonnets on the facing pages. And then my eye fell on the left page where there were markings. Elizabeth Barrett Browning.. My favorite. I glanced down at the ink marring the page. My breath stopped. The last line had been underlined. Vigorously. And beside the words…my name. Written in his lovely scrawl. What did this mean. My finger reached out and traced the phrase he'd marked.
For whom I love alone. I read through the sonnet quickly. It was not one I was familiar with but it seemed to say much of how I felt about Carlisle. And then I got to the last line again. It was almost too much to hope for. My eyes closed briefly as I conjured his lovely face in my mind, as I thought of the feel of his lips on mine. His tongue dancing with mine. Heat began to flush my body. But just as quickly, I felt the ice cold that had engulfed me since he left. I shook my head. I shouldn't read too much into this. He did leave after all.
Just as I was about to snap the book shut in disgust, my eyes caught the sonnet on the opposite page. It was one of my favorite. How Do I Love Thee? As the familiar words flowed before my eyes, they took on a meaning that had never been there before. Because I'd never loved before Carlisle. And then my eyes, fell on the last line and truer words had never been written. I shall but love thee better after death.
I picked up a pen lying on the desk and underlined that phrase. Vigorously. And then beside the words, I spelled out Carlisle. On impulse, I childishly signed below, Love, Mrs. Dr. Carlisle Cullen. A hysterical giggle bubbled out of me followed shortly by a burst of panic. Oh God, what if he came back and saw this?
I slammed the book shut, threw the pen down and that's when I knew he was back. How, I'll never know. But I made my way to the window on the east wall overlooking the tempestuous sea. The waves were loud tonight. But not loud enough to drown out my thoughts of Carlisle and the last time we'd been together. And there he was.
A marble statue among the trees. He stared at the house, a look of longing on his face. Defensively, I crossed my arms over my chest. I felt as if he were looking right through me, into my heart and saw all of the ugliness he'd run away from. It was obvious he longed to be home. But with his hesitation, I couldn't help but feel that was because of me. And that hurt. A lot. I thought it hadn't been possible to hurt any more than I had. In fact, it had almost become a numbness in the past day or so.
And I just felt incredibly sad. The saddest I'd felt since my dear baby died. Since I'd tried to…
But Carlisle had given me a second chance. A chance to make things right. I felt like I was starting to do that with Edward. If only Carlisle would let me be there for him. Just as a friend. Nothing more. Oh I wanted more. But he had no idea how I shamed myself in glorying in any scrap of attention he gave me. I wanted to be there for him, just as he'd been for me in the beginning. Would he let me?
Well, there wasn't going to be any letting. I was going to make him. If it took the next 100 years, I was going to be the best damn friend he ever had.
After all, I loved him even better after death. Enough for the both of us.