The story deals with adult subject matter and occasional description of explicit sexual abuse. Not meant for underage readers. Read at your own peril. And oh, Twilight belongs to SM. This is just a fanfiction.

Beautiful Sorrow

End of chapter 30

When the time came to settle the bill and leave, the notion of offering to pay for her share crossed Bella's mind, but only fleetingly. She had absolutely no idea how much her meal had cost as she recalled that the menu didn't have any prices listed. It wasn't difficult though to speculate that it was solidly outside her reach. So, she quietly sat and watched as sleek, rectangular plastic exchanged hands and a beaming server boy bowed and thanked Mr. Cullen profusely, supposedly happy with the tip.

"Shall we?" Mr. Cullen asked to indicate it was time for them to leave, and Bella followed him out to the car obediently, leaving behind the splendor that was Euphorique.

Chapter 31

Bella, age 18

Once inside the car, she took a last glance at the palatial structure. It seemed impossible to her already that she had actually been inside just minutes ago.

"Where would you like to be dropped off?" Carlisle asked once their car was cruising through the traffic.

Bella didn't drive to work; the high cost of parking and gas made it prohibitive. She walked to most places within reason or took the bus when the distance proved to be too discouraging. While the public transit system in Seattle left a lot to be desired, with judicious planning and patience it was at least possible to navigate the parts of the city she needed to commute to on a regular basis. But she was far from the familiar quarters and didn't know the bus routes or timetable by heart.

"Uh... anywhere is fine," she mumbled shyly, reluctant to put him out any more.

"Nonsense. I am not letting you off on a random street in a strange city. I'd be happy to take you to your home, or to your car. Whichever you prefer. So, what shall it be?" Carlisle asserted his authority over the matter just as seamlessly as he did the last time she met him. It was not up for debate.

"I didn't drive to work, so..."

"Your place it is then. Where is it that you live?" Carlisle asked.

"It's in the U district, 47th street. A few blocks from St. Jude's," Bella complied.

"That's quite a bit way from your work. Why didn't you take your car?"

Bella pondered on Mr. Cullen's propensity to ask about matters that she really didn't want to bring up, matters that were stark reminders of ways she was inferior and lacking.

"It's just that... parking is tricky, and I like to walk. Also my car is old, so I thought I'd spare the city some extra pollution and save the miles to visit home," Bella answered sheepishly.

"Is this the same car that broke down the day you came to visit me?" Carlisle prodded on.

"Yes, sir." Bella felt somewhat flustered at the mention of their last encounter. Her recollection of that day was akin to that of a roller coaster ride, with numerous high and low points.

"You've had the car fixed since then?"

"Yes, sir."

"And it's running well?"

Bella was stumped once again. Her old car that she had inherited from her father was not functioning well. In fact, when she picked it up from Rusty's bodyshop, the mechanics there gave her a long list of parts that needed to be replaced if she wanted her car to ever run reliably again. It just wasn't something she could afford on top of what they were charging her already, so she had set it aside, hoping the patch-up work would hold long enough to shuttle her to Forks and back at least a few more times.

It wasn't just the high cost of gas and parking that prevented her from using her car more frequently. There was a certain degree of willful denial that prompted her actions too; as long as the car inactively sat in its designated parking spot, she could tell herself that it was still in working order, thus there was no immediate need for her to take action. But if she took it out everyday and it broke down in the middle of Brooklyn Avenue, then there would be no way to delude herself any longer. Then she would be mid way through the semester, with no means to visit home, or any way to fix her vehicle without dipping into her precarious tuition fund.

However, she hardly thought it would be appropriate to share her childish ploy to avoid the inevitable with Mr. Cullen.

"It runs... it runs okay," she answered as she lowered her eyes. It was technically true.

"Does it really? And you are planning on driving this car to visit your parents next weekend?" Carlisle asked her with a touch of disapproval in his voice.

"Yes." Bella nodded hesitantly.

"I can't say it's a smart thing to do, planning road trips with an unreliable car. Are you aware of the risks involved? Do your parents know about your reckless plans? I doubt they would approve," he said, cocking his head in a judgmental fashion which, should Bella hadn't been as taken by everything the man stood for, might have bothered her a tad bit.

If it were anyone else who spoke to her in such a condescending manner she might have been tempted to quip back with something along the line of, well not all of us are born with a money-tree lodged up our left nostril. But Carlisle Cullen wasn't just anyone, and as far as Bella was concerned he could never be wrong. Thus, she apologetically made excuses for her old, rusty car.

"I... I don't drive out every weekend. Sometimes we take Alice's car. It's holding up quite well really. I'm very careful on the road." She tried to sound confident and reassuring, hating the fact that she was falling short in meeting Mr. Cullen's expectations, yet not having any other recourse to mitigate the matter.

"How often do you visit your parents?"

"I was hoping at first that I would visit every other weekend, but with my classes, and my job and the... car I... I can't really make it more than once a month," she answered.

"I go home to Forks on most weekends. I suggest that you come along with me; I'd be happy to drop you off at your house. That way you won't be subjected to driving a traffic hazard and I won't be worried about your safety. It's the perfect solution. Just let me know ahead of time which weekends you will be going," Carlisle said with his customary authority.

Bella was rendered speechless by this sudden windfall. Could she be hearing correctly? He would allow her to accompany him on his trip to Forks? She wouldn't have to worry about gas money or her car breaking down mid way. And above all, she would have yet another opportunity to be in his presence for a good four hours. There truly was no end to his generosity.

"I... I... thank you, sir. That... that's so very kind of you," Bella stammered, as her eyes lit up in unexpected hope. "But I don't want to cause any trouble for you. I mean, I know you are very busy; I don't want you to go out of your way on my account," she hastily added as it occurred to her that just because Mr. Cullen was of charitable nature didn't mean she should take advantage of it needlessly.

"Yes, you are absolutely right. I am very busy. Which is why you'll have to be ready on time. Also, I need to be in Seattle on Monday morning, so it can't be later than seven when I start back on Sunday. Do you think you can handle that?" he asked sternly.

"Yes, sir. Of course, I won't be late," Bella quickly confirmed her compliance.

"Very well. I'll have someone call you to get your schedule within the next few days. You do have a cell phone, right?"

"Uh... no, but we have a land-line..." Bella replied apologetically, reflecting back on her window shopping earlier that day, right before her serendipitous meeting with Mr. Cullen.

"You should get one. They come in handy, especially in emergencies," he said with a slight shake of his head, indicating that he wasn't particularly pleased with the matter.

Bella cursed herself for not making a purchase already, and made quick mental calculations to see if any kind of budget reshuffling would enable her to get one before her next pay day. It didn't look promising. She mumbled an apology and proceeded to pull out her note book from her back pack to jot down her house number for Mr. Cullen. But he raised his hand to dissuade her.

"Is your home number listed?" he asked.

"Yes, it is. It's under Alice's name though," she answered.

"I'll have someone look it up," he said decisively.

"Okay," she said in a small voice as she sadly took stock that they were not very far from her apartment block. They probably would arrive there in less than five minutes and this magical evening would come to an end. She tried to pull her thoughts together to make the best use of the remaining moments by conveying to Mr. Cullen what she had been meaning to say all evening in an intelligent and articulate fashion: to properly say thank you.

"Mr. Cullen," she began hesitantly, keeping her gaze lowered out of deference. "Thank you so much for the dinner, and... and for everything you have done for us over the years. I know we've... I've made mistakes in the past, and I'm really sorry for that. I promise you, we'll... I'll never do anything that can cause any problems for you. My dad and my mom, we are all really grateful for your help. I'd like you to know that it made a very big difference in our lives. And I'm... we owe it all to you..." Despite her well rehearsed efforts, Bella was mortified to realize that her voice was choking with emotions.

She felt a hot drop of tear fall on her upturned palm. She was glad that at least she had the good sense of keeping her head down while talking. She prayed that Mr. Cullen wouldn't notice her sentimental outburst and that she would be able to end the evening like a mature and coherent individual, leaving a slightly better impression than she did the last time she met the man. It wouldn't favor her image if his recollection of both the encounters consisted of her sobbing like a cry-baby.

However, before she could decide on a clever maneuver that would allow her to wipe away the tears without noticing, their car came to a stop in front of her apartment building. If she wasn't so preoccupied with tears management, she might have wondered about the fact that she had only provided the street name and the general location of her residence, not the house number. But she was sufficiently distracted and the matter didn't register on her mind at all.

"I believe we are here, Isabella," he said in a soft tone.

Realizing that she needed to exit the car, tear faced or not, Bella reached for her backpack. When she lifted her head to bid him goodbye her eyes met Mr. Cullen's intense gaze. She didn't recognize the look but she could feel its burning depth.

"Th... thank you, sir. For the evening, and for bringing me home," she began, glad that her voice didn't betray her by trembling. "Good night, sir."

She raised her hand to open the car door when Mr. Cullen motioned for her to stop.

"I am happy I could be in a position to help you, and your family." He paused. "And I am really happy that you wrote that essay, Isabella."

He held her gaze a few moments longer, then he said, "You should go in. I'll be here until you enter the building. Good night."

Bella tore her eyes away from his face and forced herself to step out to the curb. Her mind was abuzz with the parting words she had received from Mr. Cullen. She quickly made it through the glass door and turned around to see his car speeding away.

She made it up the three flights of stairs. Her steps were light though her mind was heavy as she tried to decipher what Mr. Cullen had meant.

However, her starry-eyed musings came to an abrupt halt the moment she walked into their apartment and found a very angry and very worried Alice sitting on the couch, waiting for her.

AN1: Story rec - The War Is Over by MariahajilE
This will rile you up and there is a good chance you won't be happy with everything that happens in the story. But boy, it's written with super-glue type font!

AN2: I moved all my banner links to a blog:
dream - of - the - endless (dot) blogspot (dot) com/
I sometimes post my errant thoughts there as well. Take a look. Let me know what you think.

AN3: A huge round of thanks goes to lulabelle98.

Thanks to those who checked out Where the Streets Have No Name. I'm most grateful.

Thank you for reading. Thank you for reviewing. If I could take you all out to dinner, I would.