Finally, things are picking up. That is not to say I am happy with this life, I never will be, I will forever grieve the loss of the babies I could have born, but to reemerge into society - I never thought that was going to be possible. I have spent all afternoon carefully arranging my hair, and with a final pinch of my cheeks, more out of habit now that it has no real effect, I am ready, and I have to admit stunning. My long evening gown is a beautiful blush pink, my eyes are sparkling with excitement, my blonde hair a cascade of curls around my shoulders, the only disappointment is that my skin will never be anything but pale white, even though I know I will still be the most beautiful woman in the room. We moved only a few weeks ago to a new city, the third since I was turned 2 years past. I had pleaded with Carlisle to move us somewhere we could interact with humans, where we could attend social occasions, almost live, so here we were in New York. I had been promised a few months to indulge myself, and then we would be moving again. Right now, I don't care. We are going dancing.
I fairly float down the stairs to where Edward is waiting for me - our ruse for our time here is one of husband and wife. He argued vehemently against that, and I was forced to remind him many humans have unhappy marriages of convenience, it would help us to blend in. Really, I couldn't care less what he thought, I knew he would act his part, and it would add to the envy of others...yes, I still crave jealousy. I am still a shallow, vain creature.
Edward looks perfect. His tailored suit is not a millimeter out of place; his hair sits as perfectly as it always has. The grimace does detract from the look, and I narrow my eyes, but I can't be upset for long. Esme and Carlisle stand near the door, their perfection so glaring they seem like movie stars. I glide to the bottom of the stairs and place my hand delicately on Edwards arm.
"Shall we go husband?" I love to taunt him over our roles.
"Rosalie, surely we can save the acting for an audience." I tinkle out a laugh and fairly pull him out the door.
* * * * *
The soft light of the lamps adds a human glow to my features I notice as I glide past the mirrors lining the walls. The man I am dancing with is stumbling over his own feet in awe of my beauty, and every woman in the room has glared at me from the moment I entered and their husbands began vying for my affection. I toss my hair, laugh my beautiful laugh and watch gleefully as everyone stares at me. I am in my element. The only pair of eyes that haven't looked my way all night are Edwards, an irritating detail. I flick my hair again as we pass him, notice him turn his head pointedly in the other direction. I cringe slightly, eliciting a stream of profuse apologies from the man with me, who thinks he has trodden on my foot. He may have, but compared to me he is so weak, it would be the equivalent of a fly, I wouldn't even notice. He is tapped on the shoulder by yet another man, I have lost count how many there have been tonight. This one is tall, extraordinarily handsome, as human men go, and obviously rich - just the kind of man I would have married. Someone just like Royce. A very low growl erupts from my throat, surprising me. Fortunately, it is so low, and the babble of noise so loud, the man doesn't notice. I smile wider; see the slightly shocked expression on his face. Maybe a bit too wide. He spins me around the room, gracefully; I enjoy the feeling, until my eyes are drawn like a moth to the flame to a head of dark curly hair, barely visible through the crowd. I lose my concentration, miss a breath, and notice Edward looking at me for the firs time. It is not a tender look though, more like he is considering whether or not it is time for us to leave. He goes with the middle ground, striding purposefully toward my dancing partner to tap his shoulder.
"May I cut in? I haven't danced with my wife all evening." Only I catch the slight edge of sarcasm to the word 'wife'. The other man looks perturbed, but cordially agrees, withdrawing to stare at me from the wall. Edward places one arm at my waist, the other in my hand and twirls me around the floor, speaking in a rapid undertone.
"What was that about?"
I raise an eyebrow at him, as if I don't know what he means.
"Don't be smart Rosalie. What was with the hair, and a baby? I'm confused. And more than a little concerned."
Thoughts of Vera, of her baby, flood my mind before I have a chance to stop them. Understanding dawns on Edwards features.
"Oh. So you do have some sort of heart, Rosalie, albeit still a selfish one."
I squeeze with the hand on his shoulder. He doesn't even flinch.
"I have no intention of discussing this with you, Edward Masen."
A smile. Shock, Edward can smile. I don't recall seeing him smile once since I joined the Cullens.
"Don't do anything foolish, Rosalie. If you expose us, our time here will be over all the faster."
He fought dirty. I most certainly don't want to leave here any earlier than I have to. I nod, gritting my teeth. The music ends, Edward relinquishes me to another dancing partner. But I am still haunted, still searching for that head of dark, curly hair.