Apparently I'm on a roll. Can't help myself. I'd wait, but I just want to post this. True story. Enjoy!

Chapter 3- Spirited

July, 1917

Esme looked out the window of her bedroom. Still stuck at home. Twenty-two years old. Most of her friends had married. Tom had. Lily hadn't, yet, but had several men who were interested in her. Why wouldn't they be? She was, and had been since she'd turned 18, the most sought after girl in Columbus. If Esme was in any way interested in marriage, well, she might've been competition for her friend. But she wasn't. She saw no reason to go off and get married, especially since it wasn't what she wanted.

Quickly the woman turned, hearing the door creak open. Seconds later, her mother's face appeared through the crack.

"Esie?" she smiled. "Your father would like to see you downstairs in two minutes," she announced, before disappearing, the door closing quietly behind her.

This was her chance, Esme realized, smiling. Perhaps her final chance to finally get them to see her way. To make them see that, yes, the Wilds were dangerous. Of course they were. But... she could take care of herself!

Confidently, Esme crossed to the door, pulling it open in one swift movement. She was going to do it. Stand up for herself. Make it known that she, Esme Platt, could do as she wished. It didn't matter what other's thought. Not even her parents. She'd do it delicately, though. She didn't want to hurt them. They only wanted what was best for her, after all. But she didn't want to live like they expected, like she saw so many other women live. Chained down, not allowed to express themselves, because it wasn't seen as proper. She was different.

Biting her lip, she walked into the living room, where her father sat, reading the newspaper.

"You wanted to see me?" she asked, suddenly feeling nervous. But her nerves were never going to get in her way. Not now.

"Yes, I did," Richard agreed, sighing. "I don't want you taking this the wrong way-" he began, but Esme cut him off, her heart racing.

"Daddy, can I say something before you start this again?" she asked, immediately turning bright red at the look he gave her. Piercing knives would've been better.

Richard was silent for a long time, in which Esme became more and more anxious, before nodding.

"I want you to listen to me, before you say anything, please," she began, crossing the room to take a seat on the floor in front of him. "Daddy, I know you don't like it, but... I want to teach. I don't want to get married, I'm not in love. I couldn't stand marrying anyone I don't love. I know you want me to get married. But... it's just not right," Esme sighed.

"Esie, we've been over this. It's too dangerous. I don't know what I'd do if I saw you going off to some dangerous place, with wild men and... and who knows what all over the place. It's not that I don't want you to be happy, I want you to understand that. I want to see you safe, Es. Please," Richard replied, his voice dangerously quiet. "You're my little girl. Please," he repeated.

Tears welled in her eyes as Esme spoke again "I know. I know you want me safe. But I'm willing to risk it. For happiness, I'd be willing to risk anything, daddy, don't you understand?" she pleaded.

"Esme. I called you down here for a reason. I don't want you to hate me. I'd do anything to make you happy, but before that I need to make sure you're taken care of. I need to do what's best for you," he sighed. "Es, there are plenty of young men in town who are interested in you. I know you give none of them the time of day, but maybe, if you did give one of them the chance, you'd find out they do make you happy," Richard continued, clearing his throat. Esme's throat felt as though her heart was in her throat. This wasn't going to end well. "That's why I've taken the opportunity to select one for you. His name's Charles, he was in your year at school. Good boy. He comes from a good family, he'll be able to take good care of you,"

"No, no. I told you, I told you I don't want to be married! I don't care if he'll take care of me or not," Esme shook her head, her voice breaking. "Daddy, please,"

"It's done, Esme. You're going to marry him, and that's final. I'm sure you'll find, soon enough, that you're happier than you think you're going to be. Just, give him a chance before you completely object to the idea, okay?"

"Fine," she conceded. There was no winning now. She wasn't going to get her way. Like he'd said, it was final. This was the end. The end of her hopes and dreams. As 'good' as her father said Charles was, nothing, no one would measure up to Carlisle Cullen. The charming doctor from six years ago. But he was gone. He'd moved months after Esme had met him. Perhaps, though, she could run. Do what she wanted, regardless of what anyone said. That had been her plan all along, hadn't it? Holding back the full stream of tears, Esme looked up at her father. "Is that all?" she asked finally.

"That's all," Richard replied, sighing. "But, before you go, know that I stand by this, regardless of whether you end up hating me or not,"

Esme nodded and rose and paused, "I could never hate you, daddy. I know you mean well," she whispered before walking slowly from the room before she reached the front door. Could she really do this? Was she really going to run? Blinking back tears, she slipped from the house into the hot July air and ran. She didn't know where she was going. She hadn't brought anything with her, but she ran, as fast as she could away from her home.

She had no idea how long she'd been running when she finally stopped, unable to run any longer. Tears stung in her eyes as Esme looked around. Realizing where she was, a faint smile appeared on her face. Tom's house.

Without hesitation, she stepped forward, knocking on the door. It seemed to take forever before the door was finally opened. A very pregnant woman, Tom's wife, stood in the doorway, looking confused. Esme had met her a few times. A sweet woman, Abby, was her name.

"Is Tom home?" Esme asked quietly.

"Yes, of course. Come in," Abby nodded, moving aside. Esme walked past her. In most situations she would have made some comment about how nice the home looked, but this wasn't most situations. She needed to see Tom. To talk to him. "Have a seat," Abby told her, smiling lightly, but kindly. "I'll go get him,"

Esme obliged, taking a seat on the sofa. A new wave of emotion hit as she thought of what she might say. How would she explain how she felt without sounding like an unruly, emotional teenager? Wiping away tears, she looked up as Tom walked into the room.

"Esie, what happened? What's wrong?" he asked, immediately crossing to her, and kneeling in front of her.

"It's really nothing important," Esme shook her head, realizing how childish it was to have run off in the first place.

"Of course it's important. Even if it's ridiculous, to you it's important. If it wasn't, you wouldn't be crying," Tom pointed out.

"Yeah... I guess," she sighed, biting her lip.

"Esie, what is it?" he prodded. "Just tell me, it can't be that bad,"

"Oh?" Esme asked, raising her eyebrows as she looked up at him. "You tell me," she shrugged. "It was twenty minutes ago. Daddy called me downstairs, said he wanted to talk to me. Tom... I'm getting married," she said finally.

Tom's eyes widened. "Es, that's great! Wh-why are you sad about it?"

"Because I'm not in love, Tom! It's not what I want. I... I want to leave. To live my life without caring what anyone tells me to do, or what they think. Tom, I don't want to get married. Especially if I'm not in love,"

Sighing, Tom nodded. "I know. You've been saying that since we were kids."

"I don't know what to do, Tom. I really don't. I want to do the right thing, I want to make myself happy, but I don't want to disappoint my parents. I've done enough of that already. I don't want anyone to hate me,"

"Esme Platt, listen to me, okay? Whatever you decide, regardless of what happens, I don't think anyone could hate you. And if they do, they're a fool, do you understand?" Tom said firmly, though gently, gripping her shoulders.

She paused, looking her best friend in the eyes. "Okay," Esme nodded finally. "And Tom?"

"Yeah, Es?"

"Thank you," she said, smiling a little.

"For what?" he asked, releasing her shoulders.

"For everything. For being my friend, for listening to me, regardless of how childish I am. Just... thank you," Esme shook her head, her smile widening. And with that her decision was made. She couldn't leave. There was no way she could get by without Tom at her side. She would marry Charles, after all, how bad could it possibly be?