THE WINTER WIND
Bella rolled up the window glass of their Black Mercedes, and switched on the heater. The silence between Carlisle and her was getting awkward. To ease it, she switched on the radio. Obnoxious, high-pitched voices filled the car. Carlisle frowned and looked at her. She was gazing outside the window. On the sidewalk, a couple was enjoying the Sunday with their child. They looked blissful. Something about them bothered her deeply. She had not realized at first, that she was jealous. Carlisle followed her gaze and saw the same thing – a happy family. He looked away. The torturous music had filled the car but none of them bothered to switch it off. None of them were listening to it. After a while, Bella sighed and leaned back on the seat. Closing her eyes, she tightened her grip on the bunch of white flowers on her lap. Throughout the rest of the drive, Carlisle remained silent, looking straight ahead, remembering about the night, she had knocked on his door. He questioned himself, what would had happened, had he acted differently.
As Bella was about to hit the floor, his arms had caught her. He tried to steady her, but she had already passed out. He carried her limp body inside and placed it on the couch, without even thinking that her wet body would dirty the couch. When he stepped away from her, he looked her up and down. To say he was shocked would be an understatement, he got an anxiety attack. He decided to call Sue up and ask her what had happened but the phones were dead. A deep worry had settled over him. Bella was completely drenched and she was shivering in cold. When his shock wore off and he somewhat came back to his senses, he ran upstairs to get few blankets and some dry clothes.
He picked up the blankets from the bed and then opened the cupboard. On one side of it, there were dresses and other female attires, which would have been perfect for Bella. His hands had already selected a black skirt, when Esme's face flashed in front of his eyes. He stopped. He opened another door of the wardrobe and quickly picked up his own shirt and trouser.
It had been two years since his wife, Esme's death but still he had kept all her belongings intact. When he reached the couch, he saw Bella was still unconscious. That means he had to change her clothes. As a doctor, Carlisle had seen uncountable people naked but at that moment, he felt very uncomfortable. Something about the fact that he was about to undress a barely adult, unconscious girl, who was half his age disturbed him.
"She would get more ill if I don't do this. There is nothing wrong in it. I am helping her, as a human and as a doctor." He told himself before making her seat and changing her dress. As he was undressing her, some unbidden memories flashed in his mind. Memories of those love-making moments that he shared with his wife; the way he would slowly undress her...
He stopped breathing when unexpectedly the images changed and instead of Esme, he pictured Bella. In a moment of surprise he stepped back and Bella's unconscious body swayed forward. He caught and steadied her and then finished the remaining work in a hurry. When it was done, he tried to dry her hair, put on her socks, covered her with two blankets and switched on the heater to keep her warm .
He did not know what had happened to him back then. He moved up to his room, after splashing some water on his face and arms. The cold wind was blowing but he felt warm. He stood in front of a photo frame. The silver photo frame had an image of Esme, holding their son, Edward. He stared at it for some time but when the same image flashed in front of him again, he looked away in guilt.
By the time, the Car reached the cemetery, Bella was truly asleep. Carlisle killed the engine and slowly exhaled before looking back at her. His voice was very soft when he called her. "Bella, sweetheart! Wake up." Even in sleep, Bella looked worried. She didn't response. He leaned in and tugging her locks behind her ears, he called again. She blinked twice before finally opening her eyes wide. She sat upright with a confused look.
"We are here."Carlisle said with a small smile and then stepped outside. She looked at the flowers on her lap, and then around. Slowly she opened the passenger side door and slid out.
Carlisle offered his hand and she took it, after a second of hesitation. He interlinked his fingers with hers and started walking towards the gate. Bella looked up. In big grey letters 'Forks Cemetery' was written. Even after all these years, she could not control the pain that ran down her body as a shiver. Carlisle, without looking at her, squeezed her hand in a comforting gesture. It did not comfort her. She felt uneasy. She did not want to hold Carlisle's hand; she did not want him to comfort her. She needed someone else. Visiting her father's grave had always depressed her. She needed comfort, but not from Carlisle. She wished it was Edward. She wanted to hold Edward's strong arms; she wanted to place her head on his shoulder. A small part of her mind felt guilty about imagining such scenarios about a man, who by relation was her step-son, while visiting her own father's grave. But she so desperately needed comfort and though Carlisle was comforting her, her heart desired for Edward.
As they entered the bleak cemetery, the wind suddenly seemed colder. It blew noisily, tangling Bella's long brown hair.