Author's note: Oh my Lordy, I've had so many lovely reviews for the last update, it's been amazing! I was so worried about it, hoping it would turn out right, but, judging by the response, everyone liked it, so yay! This chapter is quite short and I apologise profusely for it, but hope you still like it all the same :)

Chapter twenty three

Long dark shadows swam over the car interior as the ochre lights of the streetlamps flew past my window. Esme was beside me, driving me home, yet neither of us had spoken since the journey began. My mind was a complete mess since Carlisle left the study so abruptly and I kept replaying the entire scene in my head, trying to work out what had gone wrong. He was fixing my head and we were talking. The conversation started off light, but, then it had taken a more serious turn and I tried my best to console him, to show a willingness to repay the kindness showered upon me on so many occasions. Then, things got complicated. I kissed him. His response had been slow, to start with, but I could have sworn he started kissing me back. In truth, I'd been so wrapped up in the feelings of the moment, that I found it hard to actually remember who had done what. Had he reciprocated my gesture, or were my memories fuelled by wishful thinking? I hated it, hated the whole fucked up situation and felt like hitting my head against the nearest solid object, just to knock a little clarity into myself.

Eventually, I felt a rocking motion, as the car came to a slow halt. I looked out of the windshield and realised we weren't outside my house. I turned to Esme, who was already facing in my direction, watching expectantly. My stomach knotted, knowing she wanted an explanation for what had happened between Carlisle and I. Had she heard any of it? If she had, was she angry? If she hadn't heard, was I really going to tell her? If I didn't, Carlisle probably would, so there was no point in delaying the inevitable.

"Are you ready to talk about it?" she asked. "Or, would you prefer to speak to Alice?"

I considered her question for a moment. I knew Alice much better, but she wasn't here right now and I really wasn't willing to cause any more upheaval and drama than I already had that evening. There was always the opportunity to speak to her Wednesday-if she was still talking to me by then. That was a terrifying thought; what if she no longer wanted anything to do with me? What if Carlisle told her it would be better if they all left me alone? Oh, God, I couldn't take it! The tears returned and my head buried itself in my hands. I was such an idiot!

"Isabella," Esme called, her hands clutching my wrists to uncover my face. "Stop it." There was a gently authoritative tone, similar to the one Carlisle occasionally used. The despair flared again. Why did everything have to come back to him? "You don't have to tell me about it if you really don't want to, but I cannot let you go home in this state. Your father will panic, if you do."

As if to prove her point, she directed my gaze to the wing mirror and what I saw nearly made me gasp. I looked awful! My hair was a dishevelled mess, my eyes were puffy and rimmed with red and I had a large plaster stuck to the left side of my forehead. She was right, I needed to calm down, before facing Charlie. I began wiping the shed tears away and took several deep breaths. Esme watched me, her hand tucking my hair behind my ear, before resting on my shoulder. Minutes passed silently, as my hysteria was allowed the time needed to disperse. Then, she spoke.

"You're in love with him, aren't you?"

My lids closed, hands running through my hair, as I bit my lip and the tears silently fell. It was undeniable. I, Isabella Swan, klutzy college dropout, had fallen in love with the vampire known as Dr Carlisle Cullen. And, apparently, despite only realising this fact for myself a few hours ago, everyone else was already aware of it. Or, at least, Esme was. I wondered what her thoughts were on the matter. I'd detected no anger in her tone, but she wasn't clapping with enthusiasm, either.

"Isabella, look at me," she requested. "Please."

My eyelids slowly opened, before my head swivelled left. A hint of pity graced her features, as her hand went up to smooth the back of my hair.

"How long have you felt this way?"

My gaze lowered, as I thought about it. My fascination had begun the second I saw him in the hospital all those months ago, but, back then it had been nothing more than curious enthralment. He, like every member of his coven, was so different to any other person I had met, that I couldn't help the obsession growing within me. He had shown kindness, patience and altruism unlike anyone I had ever known. He'd saved me from the terror my potential rapist had tried to inflict on me. He'd stopped a car from crushing one of my best friends and he had taken me in when I arrived on his doorstep, bedraggled and distraught after the argument with my mother. And, not once, had he ever asked for anything in return. I thought back to the moment I first discovered my growing attraction to Carlisle. I'd kissed his cheek, to thank him for all he'd done and his smiling reply had stolen my heart. I'd always thought that moment to be the realisation of my feelings, but, what if it was more of an admission? Had I always felt something for Carlisle, from the very beginning? I didn't know. The depth of feeling I had for him was so immense, I couldn't even begin to work it all out.

"I...I don't know," I finally murmured, the words quivering with emotion. "But, I've messed it all up."

The second half of the sentence was spoken so quietly, no human would have been able to hear it. However, my companion wasn't human, so she caught it loud and clear.

"Bella," she cooed and her surprise use of the sobriquet was enough to grab my full attention. She pulled me against her, the silken fabric of her dress catching the rivulets of salty water dripping from my lashes. She began to rock gently, whilst running her fingers carefully through my hair. "I know things seem bad at the moment," she whispered into my ear. "What happened tonight was a shock for the pair of you, I think, and you both need some time to figure it all out."

"But," I croaked through the tears. "He ran..."

"I know, I know," she replied, continuing to rock and console me, before pulling back and cradling my face between her hands. "But that doesn't mean he'll run forever."

My eyes were brimming with disbelief, as they met hers. How the Hell did she know? Anger began to burrow through the despair and I was starting to feel like I needed to hit something. The rage wasn't all aimed at her, in fact, she was little more than a convenient scapegoat, but her words were the perfect excuse to vent my frustrations. She obviously sensed this, because she let go of my face and gripped my hands instead.

"Listen to me," she said. "I am not trying to patronise or pacify. I am simply trying to make you see that things may not be as terrible as you imagine, you just need to give it time-"

"It doesn't matter!" I insisted, yanking my hands out of her grasp. "Things will never be as they were after this. Even if we're able to put it behind us, it won't change the fact that he knows how I feel." I gripped handfuls of hair in exasperation. "Every word, every little gesture will be analysed and any friendship we manage to create will probably be spent with him walking on eggshells, for fear of giving me the wrong impression!"

I drew my knees up and rested my crossed arms on them.

"Do you know how he feels about you?"

I gave Esme a glare that told her not to even think of going there. She replied with an imperious raise of the eyebrows. In my current mood, deciding to talk to her, rather than Alice had proven to be wise. Esme wasn't going to take any of my crap, whereas Alice would have probably let me rant and rave at her until sunrise, without ever holding it against me, which would have left me feeling guilty for the rest of the week.

"You honestly believe he could never reciprocate your feelings?"

I really wanted to slap her. Of course he didn't! In what kind of world would a transcendent creature like Carlisle Cullen fall for someone like me? He was perfect in almost every way, filled with a wisdom and compassion I could never hope to achieve if I lived to be a thousand. He could have his pick of any woman that crossed his path, so there was absolutely no chance of him going for a silly little twenty three year old. Yeah, my memory may swear blindly that he kissed me too, but that didn't guarantee romance. I'd certainly never felt any romantic attachment to the three guys I'd slept with in my lifetime.

Esme watched as all these thoughts passed through my mind and she sighed, before shaking her head in disapproval. "You should have more faith in yourself," she stated.

We were both silent for some time after that and I settled to pass the time by staring blankly at the dimly lit landscape, framed by the edges of the windshield. Against my most fervent attempts at denial, her words managed to reignite the embers of hope my despair had extinguished. It formed a zigzagging line across my heart, with the power to create two different people inside me. One was adamant there wouldn't be anything more between Carlisle and I, but, the other began to wonder if there would. I wished there was some way of replaying every single moment we had spent together to decipher his true feelings. Were they purely platonic and his returning kiss a result of getting lost in a vulnerable moment, or was there something more hidden beneath his cool exterior? Urgh, why was it all so confusing?

With a groan of frustration, I buried my face in my hands and silently asked for oblivion to take me. It seemed my heart didn't possess the necessary capacity for all the emotions battering it.

"Isabella?" Esme shuffled forward, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm not crying," I explained, my voice muffled by my hands.

"You need to rest," she advised, before adding, "If you can."

I took a very deep breath, before lifting my head up and tilting it back to lean against the headrest. After a couple more minutes, my face rotated ninety degrees to look at Esme. Yet another member of the Cullen coven I owed a debt of kindness to.

"Will you tell Alice and Jasper what happened?"

She nodded and I swallowed a lump of apprehension.

"They won't hold any of this against you," she said and I had a hard time believing her. Aware of this, she continued. "I will ask her to call you tomorrow."

"Alright," I replied, straightening myself in preparation for exiting the vehicle. My hand rested against the door handle for a moment, as I bit my lip, before shyly thanking her.

"It's alright, Isabella," she assured me, squeezing my hand and offering a small smile of understanding.

I opened the door and began to walk the remainder of the way home. My state of mind resembling a certain Led Zeppelin song the way it did, it was a wonder I managed to get there at all. Esme asked me to rest, if I could. I was pretty sure that was a request to which I wouldn't be able to acquiesce.

000

The next day, I regressed about eight years and gave in to my inner teenage emo by refusing to leave the bedroom and lied to Charlie, citing illness as the reason. He'd been fast asleep on the couch when I got home the night before, so was blissfully unaware of all that had happened. Although I spent the morning doing little more than lie and stare at each wall of my bedroom in turn, time seemed to pass pretty quickly and I was surprised to learn it was almost two in the afternoon, when I picked up the phone to answer Alice's call.

She was as distraught, caring, worried and adorable as I'd expected, but her words of comfort did nothing to help the rawness of my heart and soul. When I asked how Carlisle was, she said he hadn't been home since I left the house and a stab of panic pierced my chest. She immediately assured me it was nothing to worry about, as he'd left a note of explanation. Her reckoning was that he simply needed space and time to think. Well, he hadn't come knocking on my door, which helped confirm my pessimistic suspicions. The sudden onslaught of dejection that attacked my senses made me gasp for air and I had to end the call, promising to ring her later. The phone fell to the floor and I wept into my pillow. It was pathetic, but all I could do at that point.

When Charlie finally returned home that evening, I ordered takeout for us both, under the pretence of still feeling too rough to cook. I decided to keep him company, as we ate, if only to ensure he wouldn't worry too much about me. Unfortunately, my appetite wasn't up to much and my conversational skills fared even worse. After half an hour, I gave up and told him I was going back to bed. I must have looked convincingly ill, because he actually kissed my forehead, before asking if there was anything I needed. The uncharacteristic level of affection was enough to bring the tiniest of smiles to my face and I wrapped my arms around his waist to return his concern with a tight hug. In danger of crying again, I muttered a hasty goodnight, before climbing the stairs to my bedroom.

Just like the previous night, I got very little sleep. All my mind wanted to do was continue analysing every single aspect of that night, searching for the tiniest scrap of hope that my relationship with Carlisle could be salvaged. Could I call or write to him, blame my actions on alcohol and brain damage? I didn't think so. Although much of that night was now a blur, of one thing I was certain: my true feelings had been well and truly revealed. Knowing how compassionate Carlisle was, he wouldn't want to lead me on or make things any more awkward than they needed to be, so I could imagine him distancing himself. In that moment, my abdomen knotted with pain and I curled into a ball, biting my knuckles to silence the cries of anguish.

How could the thought of losing one person cause so much despair? How had he wormed his way so intrinsically into my life that I was no longer able to contemplate an existence without him? The more I thought about it, the more I knew there would never be another who possessed such importance to me. I considered the mate principle Alice had spoken of. Jasper was her soul mate, her second half, the one who made sense of everything else in her life. Carlisle was my Jasper. From the very start, he had connected with me in a way unlike any other. His birthday gift to me had been so perfect, it was like he'd known me for years, rather than the couple of months it had actually been. My visits to his library had become precious to me and it would be no lie to say I spent most of my time counting down the hours and minutes between each one. Of course, spending time with Alice, Jasper and-recently-Esme was important to me, too, but, the long conversations I had with Carlisle about any number of topics made time pass like nothing else.

Eventually, the pain subsided and I could breathe properly again. I couldn't afford to think in such ways, it would cripple me, otherwise. Life had to go on, even if every beat of my heart was starting to feel like a chore. I'd contemplated calling in sick for work the next day, but, decided against it in the end. Wallowing in grief at home would drive me insane pretty quickly, so I hoped the bookstore would provide, at least, some distraction to get me through the day.

Even when my eyes began to droop and fitful slumber finally caught me, Carlisle refused to leave my thoughts. And the fact that I knew he never would had the power to both elate and cripple me.

A/N: A bit angsty, this one. Again, I know it's shorter than most chapters, but I hope the speedy update will make up for it :) I didn't want to have Bella ramble on for too long about how upset she is, because it could get pretty tedious. The next update is being written (or typed) as we speak, so it won't be long until it's posted, promise!