November 1932
Rochester, New York
"Esme, are you ready?"
"Almost," I called out to Carlisle optimistically as I continued slipping pins into my hair. I was running late.
A moment later my dashing husband appeared in the doorway. I ignored him as I continued my work until his face was reflecting in the glass above my own.
"Mrs. Cullen, with limitless time how are you running so late?" he questioned with a raised eyebrow.
"My errands took longer than expected and I had to take out the pins and start over," I said calmly, but slightly agitated.
"Will you be much longer?"
"Stop distracting me, Dr. Cullen, and I'll be ready within ten minutes," I snapped. "It's fine. We'll be fashionably late."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked sincerely.
"Bring long hair back in style," I grumbled as I finished the last pin curl and picked up the wig cap.
"It will come back," he said encouragingly as he watched me slide the wig onto my head and secure it.
I looked in the mirror and fixed a wayward strand before standing and rushing past him toward the closet.
"It won't be soon enough," I called out over my shoulder. I heard him chuckle. Under my robe, I was wearing everything I would need beneath the new gown. I slipped off the covering and lifted the dress off the hanger and over my head in one fluid motion. After I fastened it, I picked up my shoes and stole and went back into the room where I sat on the edge of the bed to put on my shoes.
"What are you wearing?" Carlisle asked. His voice was unusually high.
"An evening gown," I stated as I stood up and made my way to walk over to my jewelry box to retrieve a pair of earrings.
"Where's the back of it?"
I took one last look in the mirror. "This is the fashion, Carlisle," I said as I walked back to the bed to pick up the fur and my purse.
"It's obscene," he objected.
"You thought ankles were obscene a decade ago. Ankles are once again covered and now we're showing off the back."
"Esme…" I cut off the lecture I was about to receive.
"Carlisle! It's new. It's fashionable. I've got a stole. We're running late. I'm sure I'm not going to be the only woman with a bare back. You are going to have move past your aversion to fashion at the moment."
I turned and walked out the door with him on my heels. I immediately felt bad about my behavior and stopped in my tracks. I turned and caught his arm. When I met his eyes he looked alarmed and concerned. I leaned in and kissed his cheek. "I'm sorry."
"You look lovely," he said trying to win my favor.
"Thank you," I murmured and headed down the stairs.
Edward was waiting at the foot with both our coats. "Esme, you look beautiful," he said with a smile, kindly ignoring the situation that he clearly knew had just transpired.
It had not been an easy adjustment having Edward home. Of course we would rather have him than have the place to ourselves, but nevertheless three and a half years of just me and Carlisle had allowed us to fall into a routine based on two.
We didn't stay long in Philadelphia after I graduated. It was too difficult to remain. I loved that home and the life Carlisle and I created, but it was a life for just the two of us with no room for Edward. We had begun to behave as a young couple, and our behavior was at times uninhibited. We had left the home in Minnesota after Edward departed because he was everywhere in the air; we left Philadelphia to fit him in and make him feel welcome and comfortable. We had to start over again. By the end of July we were on our way to Rochester, New York.
It seemed ironic that we fled one Rochester and now we were living in another, but it also felt right when Carlisle was offered a job. Like it was fated and I wasn't one to deny fate.
It had been more than a year since we had made the move and it had been a slow-going adjustment to life as three again. Edward had been headstrong when he left and for quite a while he had continued on that path. He still was coming down from that time. He was different.
His mood swings were erratic although he seemed to be improving. When he first came home he spent a lot of time just speaking with Carlisle. It hurt that he wasn't willing to share some things with me or turn to me for any guidance. I wanted to help him, but also wondered if there were things that I didn't want to know.
Time. We have so much of it, but you can't speed it up or move it along. When we moved I decided to stay home instead of taking classes. I wanted to give Edward time and space, but I wanted to be there if he needed me.
As of late he was beginning to open up and tell me stories, good and bad, from his time alone. Today he chose a bad one that left me off kilter and agitated.
The story he told of the man who not only abused his wife and children, but also his mistress left me distressed. Edward had ended him, but I couldn't help wondering what had happened to that woman. Was she relieved when he didn't come home? Was she destitute? Was she better off without him or was her life worse?
It led to me being late picking up my gown for tonight's charity ball and my lateness getting ready. Being late was a rare feat for a vampire.
Tonight's benefit was for the hospital. It was a high society event and Dr. Cullen was expected to attend. I was surprised when Edward said he wanted to go. He had been staying pretty close to home, but I hoped it meant he was starting to come out of his shell.
"Something like that," he murmured to me with a light chuckle as we left the house. "Also, for the music."
The performers from the Eastman School of Music were excellent. Even my doubting Edward was impressed.
"It's a shame that they are being ignored," Edward muttered to me.
"It's just the reception, Edward. I'm sure people will pay more attention during the program," I murmured back.
Edward chuckled and handed me a glass off a passing tray with a glimmer in his eyes he said, "Showtime, Mrs. Cullen."
Before I could question him I heard my husband's voice as he approached. "She's right over here, Mrs. Whipple."
"I see her, Dr. Cullen," said a friendly female voice dripping in southern charm. "I hope she remembers me."
"I'll reintroduce you, but I'm sure she hasn't forgotten," Carlisle responded.
I turned and smiled to greet Mrs. Katherine Ball Waring Whipple, wife of Dr. George Hoyt Whipple, the dean of the School of Medicine and Dentistry at the University of Rochester.
"Mrs. Whipple," I chimed. "It's so good to see you again. It's been too long."
She embraced me. "It has been. There are some women I would like to introduce you to. You've been a mystery to so many since your arrival."
I saw across the room that Edward had fled and taken a place against the wall near the musicians.
"That is so kind of you," I said, then turned to smile at my husband. "Can you spare me?"
"I should go greet Dr. Mills," Carlisle said. "I'll leave you ladies to it."
Mrs. Whipple whisked me away and suddenly I was surrounded by a half a dozen ladies chattering away.
I had not been very social since arriving in Rochester with my attention so focused on Edward. I turned down invitations more often than not early on and that lead to the invites tapering off.
I listened intently as they gossiped. Some of the names mentioned I knew from the society pages, others I had never heard before. I could tell Mrs. Whipple was trying to draw me into the conversation, but I only could smile and nod.
The conversation turned to family and I waited for uninvited questions about my children.
"My Barbara wanted so much to come this evening," said Mrs. Whipple. "She kept giving me reasons as to why she must attend. I told her she has a few more years before she'll be dressing up for balls."
"How old is your daughter?" I asked, attempting to enter into the conversation.
"She just turned 11 in September," she said with a smile.
Katherine's daughter was born the same year as my son. The same year I became locked in this appearance. I suddenly viewed her in a new light.
"Do you have any other children?" I asked.
"I have a son, George. He's 15 and won't be as willing to make his first appearance at this event. My husband already told him next year and let's just say he wasn't as excited as his sister," she said with a chuckle.
I studied her appearance. She couldn't have been much older than me if she had her first child the year I married Charles. It had been 37 years since I took my first breath. She couldn't have been much more than 40. There were little creases near her eyes and fullness to her cheeks. Although not particularly heavy, I wondered if the weight she carried at her midriff remained with her after childbirth or had come with age. I thought for a moment about my appearance and tried to match her attributes to my own. I chased the thoughts from my mind as quickly as I conjured them. Why torture myself?
"Next thing you know you'll be planning weddings," one of the women chimed in. While her statement was pleasant, I couldn't help but notice a vague hint of bitterness.
"Mrs. King's son, Royce, just recently became engaged," Katherine explained to me. "He is to be married next spring."
"Yes, I read the announcement in the Democrat and Chronicle," I said. "Congratulations, Mrs. King."
"Thank you," she said graciously. "It came rather quickly and although we hoped they would wait until June, they already have set a date for April."
"I'm sure they're young and in love and just want to start their lives together," I encouraged.
"Well, when Royce gets his mind set on something there's no assuaging him," she said guardedly. I didn't know if I had offended her or maybe she thought it was presumptuous of me to speak of her son.
"Have you met Miss Hale, Mr. King's fiancée?" one of the other women, a Mrs. Exton, asked of me. I think she was trying to save me.
"I have not. I'm sure I would like to. Is she here this evening?" I said looking around, not sure who I was looking for.
"My future daughter-in-law and my son are around here somewhere," Mrs. King said lazily.
"You'll know them when you see them, Mrs. Cullen, for they are a fine looking couple," said Mrs. Exton.
"Stunning even," noted Katherine. "But certainly our Mrs. Cullen and her good doctor could give them a good run in the looks department," she teased.
"I'm flattered, Mrs. Whipple, but we are an old married couple in comparison," I said with a smile.
"You look like you could scarcely be older than Miss Hale, but I'm assuming that is not the case since your husband is a doctor?" Mrs. King inquired.
"I'm 25, Mrs. King, and closer to 26 than 24," I said trying to remain gracious.
"And do you have children?"
"Alas, my husband and I have not been blessed with children as of yet. My family is my husband and my brother, Edward."
"Pity. Well for your sake I hope you are a mother before I am a grandmother," stated Mrs. King.
All the women tittered in agreement. I felt like I had a spotlight on me. Luckily the dinner bell rang and our party began to dissipate. It would take at least 15 minutes for everyone to find their seats. I excused myself to find a place to drop off my untouched glass and then ducked into the ladies lounge to wash my hands and check my makeup.
When I exited I almost ran head first into a young gentleman speeding by. He caught my arm to stop the collision.
He apologized, "I'm so sorry, ma'am. I should be more careful." He studied me briefly and I did the same. He was a handsome young man who was well built, with very fair blonde hair and pale blue eyes. He vaguely reminded me of Carlisle in his appearance.
"No harm, no foul, sir," I said politely.
He grinned and said, "Thank you for your understanding. I apologize again, ma'am, as I don't know your name. I'm sure we haven't met before because I would never forget the name or face of someone so beautiful."
"Esme Cullen. I'm the wife of Dr. Carlisle Cullen. He works at the hospital."
"Of course. I'm Royce King, the younger."
"I just met your mother. Congratulations on your engagement, Mr. King! What an exciting time it must be for you."
"It's a bit more exciting for the women in my life than it is for me," he said as he offered me his arm. "May I escort your to dinner?"
"Thank you," I said as I took his arm and started down the hall. The throng had already pushed its way into the ballroom. We weren't stragglers yet, but in another five minutes or so we would be.
"Are you new to Rochester, Mrs. Cullen?" he inquired.
"We arrived in the city last year so by your family's standards we are very new."
He laughed and asked, "And what do you know of my family?"
"I read the paper, Mr. King. It's hard to miss your family."
"True," he agreed. "They are a bit obsessed with us on the society page."
"The business pages as well. Your family's bank's success has not gone unnoticed in these difficult times as well as your family's other businesses in Rochester. There has been much praise for your business acumen."
"My father is a smart man and made good and sound decisions early on in his career that have kept us afloat during this time of crisis," he said as we neared the ballroom entrance. I spotted Edward through the doors before I saw Carlisle. My son started making his way toward me.
"I see my brother is coming to meet me," I said with a gesture.
"And I spot my fiancée," he said as he released my arm. "Again, I apologize for almost running you over, but it has been my pleasure to meet you. I hope it will not be the last time our paths cross. " He kissed my hand.
"I'm sure we will meet again, Mr. King," I said.
"Possibly on the dance floor later?" he implied.
"I'm sure that could be arranged. Enjoy your evening," I said with a light chuckle.
"You too, Mrs. Cullen," he said as he passed behind me and for a brief moment I felt his fingers graze my bare back and he was gone.
"Esme," Edward acknowledge as he approached and put my arm in his. "Playing with fire this evening?"
I was surprised by his question. "Good heavens, no. Whatever makes you say that?"
"Royce King?" he questioned with an amused, but concerning look.
"We almost collided when I was exiting the lounge. He apologized profusely and offered to escort me to dinner," I explained.
"It was no accidental collision." His tone was serious. "He had seen you speaking with his mother. He saw you leave the party and was looking for a way to introduce himself. He had his eye on you."
"That's preposterous, Edward. He was charming," I insisted.
"He doesn't often see women in Rochester that rival his fiancée's beauty."
"Don't be ridiculous. Where's his fiancée?"
"She's the one giving you daggers at 9 o'clock."
I looked to my left and spotted Royce standing by his mother, an older man that I assumed was his father, and a stunningly beautiful young blonde woman who was watching us.
"She's gorgeous."
"She is and she knows it." Edward chuckled and noted, "She doesn't like you."
"That's absurd," I said through clenched teeth. "I haven't even met her."
"Your beauty rivals hers and you just entered the room on her future husband's arm. That's enough."
"She has nothing to worry about. He was a perfect gentleman toward me."
"His thoughts were less than gentlemanly," Edward persisted.
I snapped at him. "Edward, just because you can hear everyone's thoughts doesn't mean that every single thought has to be repeated. I had one conversation with the man. I don't know Miss Hale. I'm going to continue to think that they are two lovely, young and in love people who are going to live happily ever after."
I glanced back over at the couple. She was on his arm now and he looked to be hanging onto her every word.
"I'm sorry," he said as we approached our table and Carlisle.
"Sorry for what?" Carlisle asked as he pulled out a chair for me.
"It's nothing," I said with a smile as I took my seat.
"I'm going to take a walk. Enjoy the night air," Edward said as he closed the car door.
I glanced at Carlisle. I knew a quick and immediate exit by Edward meant that something was on Carlisle's mind.
"You don't have to run off."
"It's fine, Esme. Have a good night," he said before placing a kiss on my cheek and heading off into the dark.
When we entered our room I dropped the fur on the chaise before heading to my vanity to let my hair down.
"I hardly saw you this evening," I said to my husband as I took my seat.
"Dr. Whipple had me glad-handing every possible donor and telling them all about his research," he said with a big sigh.
"I hope they were generous." I plucked the earrings from my ears and went to work on my hair.
"I think we garnered some major commitments," he said as he appeared in the mirror behind me. "I did see you often across the room and on the dance floor later in the evening."
"Well Edward obliged me with a few dances, but so did a few other gentlemen. Most were your colleagues."
"I saw. There were also a few I didn't know," he said, which I knew to be an unspoken question so I decided to fill him in.
"I danced with Dr. Carson's son, Lawrence. He's a sweet young man. He's going to make some girl very happy. The only other one who asked for a dance was Royce King, the son."
"He was the blonde one who has the pretty fiancée that many were talking about?"
"Yes, Miss Hale. It's a shame my husband noticed all my partners, but never managed to join me on the dance floor," I teased.
"While you were dancing with the young Mr. King, I was securing a large donation from his father," he said, removing a pin from the nape of my neck. "Besides, I knew I could dance with you later," he added with a kiss on the back of my neck.
"You sound like a businessman," I grumbled.
"It's not the favorite part of my job and I didn't expect to get quite so wrapped up. I would have much rather been wrapped up with you on the dance floor. I was jealous every time I saw a hand on your back."
"There's nothing ever to be jealous of. You know that," I said with a shake of my head. He plucked another pin out as he stood over me.
"I know, Esme, but I'm a man with a beautiful wife whom I didn't give the attention she deserved this evening while other men did. I apologize for that," he said with regret.
I swiveled around on my stool to face him and took his hands. "You had important work to do. I played my part while you did your job. It's alright. I'm sorry for my outburst before we left."
"Do you want to talk about it?" He was so gentle and concerned.
"Edward told me a story about one of his victims. It upset me. It threw me off a bit, but I'm fine now," I confessed.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," I said turning back to the mirror. He stood behind me removing several more pins as I finished removing the ones on the side and top. I shook my hair over the table to make sure they were all out before flipping it back over. It was a wild mass of curls.
I picked up a brush, but Carlisle took it from my hand. "Allow me," he said chivalrously as he began stroking it through my hair.
His movements became half hazard as he swept my locks to one side and his lips once again returned to my neck. I relaxed and enjoyed the sensation. He trailed across the back of it and began descending down my bare back, but then he suddenly stopped and straightened up.
"Why don't I draw you a bath," he said.
I stood and caught his hand as I took one step toward the bed. "I think the bath can wait," I said with a seductive tone, my eyes darting from his eyes to the bed and back again.
He pulled my hand up and kissed the back of it.
"It will help you relax." He looked almost sheepish.
"I am relaxed," I said sensing that he was being evasive. "Carlisle, we have the house to ourselves, but if you are not in the mood just tell me."
His hands rest against my cheeks to direct my gaze toward his. "It's not that. I'm quite aware that we are very alone."
"Then what is it?" He looked uncomfortable and I pressed the matter. "Carlisle, what's bothering you?"
"I don't want to offend you," he muttered.
"Too late," I teased then raised his hand to my lips.
His look was slightly darker as he spoke. "You looked stunning in that gown and every time I saw your back tonight all I could think of was kissing every inch of it."
"And you are very welcome to do so," I urged as I tried to move closer against him.
"And I just started to, but, my love, you smell." The sheepish look had returned.
I was taken aback. That was certainly not what I expected to hear.
He continued, "All those men had their hands on you when you were dancing and I can smell them on your skin."
"Oh," I said affirming my understanding. "And that bothers you, my possessive vampire husband?"
"Quite a lot," he mumbled. "It's making me feel very possessive of you. More than I should."
I kissed his forehead. "I'm all yours," I said quietly.
"I know. I just don't know that I like this feeling." He looked frustrated. I assumed it was directed inward and not toward me.
"Of possession?"
"It's more than that. It's the need to claim you – it's like I need to remind the world, you, and myself who you are with."
"Then claim me," I said standing up. I unfastened the dress and let it fall to my feet. I was scantily clad and he moved toward me instantly. His lips devoured mine as he pulled me against him a bit forcefully for my husband.
He immediately regretted his roughness and let go of me. He backed away and I could see the apology coming. I silenced him by embracing him and raising a leg up around his hip, my calf nudging his buttock. I licked his lips. "I'll take that bath, but you have to join me. I need you to scrub my back."
He trembled slightly under my touch and I heard him breathe my name.
I undid his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt. "I'm yours. Only ever yours. There will never be anyone else but you."
He picked me up and carried me into the bathroom. Turning the water on as he set me down, he then removed my last few items of clothing before discarding of his own. When the tub was full he again took me up into his arms then stepped into the warm water. He sat down with me in between his thighs and my back against his chest. Grabbing a washcloth and a bar of soap, Carlisle proceeded to clean every square inch of my body.
When I felt my back being covered with kisses and a soft purr coming from his throat I knew I was sufficiently clean. I took up the bar and the washcloth and shifted in the tub so I could see him. He was calmer than he had been, but I still saw that uncertainty in his eyes.
"Relax. It's my turn to clean you," I said as I began to work on him. He alternated between watching me and resting his head back on the edge of the tub. I did his legs below the water first before moving onto his arms and his chest. He had been erect since we were still clothed and when I lowered the washcloth over it, he whimpered as the fire returned to his expression. His head was no longer laying back, but instead he was sitting up with his hands at my waist. I was already straddling his legs. I just edged myself toward him and lifted my body up slightly to engulf him. He pulled me onto him with renewed urgency.
"I need you so much," he said as praise and begging my forgiveness at the same time.
"You have me, lover," I said as I grazed my teeth along his earlobe.
His movement was fast as he held my hips and eagerly bounced me up and down. The water sloshed in the tub and over the sides. I traced his cheekbones with my fingertips as I met his gaze. I loved him so much. This wasn't the ideal lovemaking situation, but it was what he needed. How many times had he given me what I needed? Enough that I was very happy to give into his current desire. I had a feeling it was going to be a long night of Carlisle asserting his manhood. Part of me knew it was silly for him to feel the way he did, but I also respected the animal inside. We were vampires. Predators. Carlisle didn't often like to think of himself in that way, but with me, when it came to his mate, he found himself at times to be territorial. I wasn't offended although he worried that I would be. I felt just the same at times. If "claiming me" was the solution he needed to make him feel secure then I would never deny him. I would go willingly into his embrace every time.
He released before I could. In the water at that angle I couldn't get the leverage I needed. His head rested against my collarbone as he recovered. My wet fingers soothingly stroked through his fair hair, separating the strands and darkening the color. I heard that familiar purr sound emitting from his chest as his body relaxed more against my chest.
The water had cooled enough that it was time to get out. He lifted me out of the tub and wrapped a towel around me then himself before taking my hand and leading me back into the bedroom.
"I'm not done with you yet," he said.
"I hope not," I whispered.
He again moved swiftly as he tossed me onto the bed, pulling away my towel and removing the one at his waist.
"Now it's time to worship you," he said as he hungrily looked me over.
There was a difference between rough and violence. If Carlisle pulled me to him tightly or grabbed me a little hard, I knew his intent was never to hurt me. It was eagerness that caused it and I was just as guilty. I reached up and pulled him down over me. He gently pushed my hands aside and rolled me over onto my stomach. His kisses picked up the trail they had been on earlier and snaked their way down my clean back.
"Much better," he murmured. His tongue ran over my flesh. "Tasty."
I giggled as it slightly tickled.
"I love that sound," he crooned he said as his fingers moved to my side and tickled me.
"Carlisle! Stop!" I cried out as I laughed.
His fingers were replaced with the palm of his hand gently gliding over my flesh. He continued worshipping my body. He touched every bit with his mouth or his fingers.
I lay there content and aroused and loved and knew I would never tire of this. With forever could come boredom, but this would never get old. I would never grow weary of his hands. He knew me so well, and knew how to tease me and thrill me.
Hours later we lay on the bed, our bodies turned in toward each other. The bedding was tossed aside and my gown still in a pile on the floor. His face was buried in the crook of my neck, a finger twirling a lock of my hair.
"Do you feel better now?" I asked.
"Much better," Carlisle practically purred.
"You don't have to apologize ever for needing me like this," I said as I flicked my fingers over his upturned hip.
"It doesn't feel particularly romantic to tell my wife that she smells bad," he admitted with remorse.
"We took care of it."
"I just don't want to be too forceful with you ever."
"I can fight back, Carlisle. If you ever did something that truly offended or hurt me you would know it. You listen when I say 'no' or 'stop.' When I said 'stop' when you were tickling me you did and turned it into a gentle caress. Those are words that I rarely have to use in here," I assured him.
He pulled me closer to him and I felt his lips against my neck near my ear.
"I'm yours and your mine," I continued. "We have ten years of lovemaking behind us and you have to realize by now that I won't run from you. Yes, there are moments when the ghosts pop up, but it's been a while."
"Six months isn't that long. When you have six years maybe I'll be less guarded and feel less guilty."
"Just be you. No regrets. That's all I ever wanted from you, Carlisle," I said running my hand over his hair. "If you hurt me I promise to throw you through the wall, but I highly doubt that will ever be necessary."
He chuckled and kissed my throat. "Please do. Women should not be made to suffer."
"No one should be made to suffer, especially at the hands of someone they swear to honor always."
"Why do our conversations so often seem to go this way?" he asked thoughtfully.
I was silent as I pondered an answer.
My words were soft as I spoke. "I think because deep down inside I need the reassurance. It's not anything that you have ever done. It's the ghosts manifesting in a different way inside my mind. It's deep seated fears. It craves to hear the chivalrous words of protection and needs to question mankind's cruelty. I unintentionally loop back to this conversation where I recommit to tossing you through a wall and your need to promise to protect me. I know it's ridiculous. I know the words don't need to be said, but yet they keep coming to our lips."
He met my gaze before placing a gentle kiss on my forehead then returned his eyes to mine.
"You give so much of yourself. You give me what I need. What I desire. What I adore. If reassurance is what you need then I will give it to you, but always with the hope that someday you won't need it. That will be when your heart and your mind are completely assured of several things: I love you completely and unconditionally and will never take a violent or hurtful action against you; also that I will always agree with you that the cruelty of certain people is unforgivable and wrong; and finally that I will step in when I can to stop cruelties from occurring with the caveat that I will never risk danger or exposure of you or Edward in the process and that if it came down to you or them, I will always choose you, my love."
He pulled me tightly against him and held me there before speaking again.
"Although I wasn't being fair before. Our conversations going this way are often influenced by something else directly or indirectly. Could your upsetting conversation with Edward have triggered this?"
"Possibly. He told me a story about a man he killed who was abusive to his wife and children. It upset and worried me. We'll never know what happened to that widow and her children. Were they better off without him or did they become destitute?"
He attempted to comfort me. "We'll never know. You can't dwell on it, Esme. I find that when Edward tells me stories about the lives he took it seems that he is looking for absolution that I can't give. Sometimes I feel like listening is all he wants. He needs to unburden himself and he has no one to talk to but you and me."
"It must be difficult for him. We have each other and by the time he came back our bond had grown even stronger."
"Yes, but he's happy for us," Carlisle insisted, as if that changed anything. "He has told me that over and over again without any sort of prompting."
"He's not the same young man who left us," I argued. "There are still shades of him, but he's changed."
"I know. Deep down he's still Edward, but when a man has a conscience conscious as Edward does, that much death, no matter how evil the people were he ended, has an effect on a person."
"What can I do to help him?"
"Be the ear or the shoulder that he needs. Don't judge him too harshly," he said soothingly.
I nodded. "I'll keep trying."
"That's all you can do, Esme," he said. "Be there to remind him that he's not alone."
"As long as we exist he never has to spend this life alone and he knows that," I confirmed.
He kissed my cheek. "He does, but just as you need your reassurance he needs his."
I grimaced slightly with the recognition of my own fault in my son. I snuggled against Carlisle, wanting to enjoy the time we had before the sun rose high in the sky and it became unseemly for us to still be in bed.
"Can I reassure you how much I love and adore you?" I asked with a kiss on the scar at his throat.
"Please reassure me at your leisure, Mrs. Cullen."
I pushed him over onto his back and looked down at him. He was in no way attempting to hide his elation.
"I'll start at the top and reassure all the way down to the bottom." I twisted my fingers in his hair as I straddled his stomach and began my journey at his forehead.
Author's Note
I'd like to officially welcome Rosalie Hale to the "The Esme Chronicles." Yes, contact was peripheral so far, but as you can imagine Esme's world is about to be rocked. I hope you are excited to see what happens next.
FYI, Dr. George H. Whipple will go on to win the Nobel Prize for Medicine in 1934.
Thank you to December LeNoir for pre-reading, and sweetishbubble and batgirll8968 for their beta work.
I published a new one-shot called "Self Portrait" that I hope you will take a look at if you haven't already. It is a bit of a flash forward for "The Esme Chronicles" of activities that will take place in the 1960's. Summary: Esme leaves her family to go to Paris for an internship. A flirty colleague is intent on getting Esme into bed, but she is determined to stay true to her husband in this city where passion rules. Will she find her release through her art or will she give into this handsome Parisian?
Thank you for reading and thank you for the reviews! I know many of you were glad for Edward's return in the last chapter and I appreciate that you took the time to let me know.