1982, Chicago
Carlisle and Esme were soon wed following his impromptu proposal. Clad in a classic black tuxedo, Carlisle watched as his lovely fiancé walked the aisle in a billowy white gown, blushing a rosy red and looking around nervously. He felt himself smiling a face splitting smile. He was a very lucky man.
Their marriage was a happy one. They were young and in love. Everything was perfect, until Esme's once flat mid riff began to show a distinct bulge. She neglected the tell tale signs and the disturbingly changing shape of her torso. She was probably ill, she decided. Definitely not pregnant. So she went on with life. Drinking herself into oblivion as she had always. Smoking, dancing, socializing. But never caring. Carlisle didn't say much either. Who was he to complain about his wife's changing physical appearance and ruin a perfectly good marriage? And so life went on for them as it had always until Esme's sickness bouts became more frequent and her coughing fits more severe. It was time to see the doctor.
The doctor told them what they had been denying all along: Esme was carrying a child. And because of her capricious behavior, the child was in peril. She still didn't care. She never wanted this child. Nor did Carlisle. So why bother to keep it? But despite her reluctance to have a child, after being in labor for 36 hours, Esme finally gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. With his pale skin and wide bright green eyes, he was so adorable. But Esme never cared, neither did Carlisle. Esme was too angry at the beatific creature because of the labor pains she had endure and Carlisle was too busy taking care of his wife. No one bothered with the child.
The little boy was named Edward. Not by his parents, but by a kind neighbor, Mrs Masen, who claimed that there was once an Edward she knew whose eyes were as green as the little newly born Cullen boy's. Over the course of years, the hospitable Mrs Masen and her carpenter husband, Mr Masen, proved to be more loving towards Edward than his real parents. Carlisle and Esme still didn't care.
…
1988, Arizona
Isabella might have been a little girl. But she saw things. Over the course of years, she had seen the naked procession of strangers climbing in and out of her parents' bed during the absence of her daddy, ravishing her mother. But she never said anything. These strangers were worthless. Mommy didn't care for these strangers. Had she cared, would she still have had lived with Charlie, her daddy? Would she still have had woken Isabella for school every morning and kissed her? Of course not. But she did. Because she did not care for the naked strangers. She only cared for Isabella and daddy. So Isabella said nothing to her father.
All these strangers were temporary, until Phil came along. The first time Isabella had seen Phil was when she was three, just a little child. But she saw things. She did not like Phil. He came to see mommy often. Too often. And mommy never even asked him to leave. Maybe mommy had started caring for Phil. Isabella did not like that. She would ask mommy if she loved Phil more or her, Isabella. But she still never said anything to her father.