Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own nothing.

So if you're wondering why it took me 3 months to update, here's my excuse: school. I started my 1st semester in May and got busy with my studies. Now I'm on my semester break so hopefully you'll get more chapters within this time.

Chapter 34:

Edward:

I stood before the white door of the two-storey house that stood proudly overlooking 37 Marion Avenue in Newark, New Jersey. Seeing the house, the neighbourhood and the familiar streets every few months was like taking a walk down memory lane. Up until I was eighteen, this place had been my life. I felt like I belonged there. So much so that even now, after spending eight years in the city, it still didn't feel like home.

I released a breath of air and raised my hand to press the door bell. I had not called Esme to inform her about my arrival. Surprising others with uninformed visits wasn't my usual style, but I was willing to make an exception here.

Judging from the expression on my mother's face when she saw me standing on her doorstep, unannounced, I realized it had been worth it.

The woman who stood before me had her hair swept up and tied in a bun. Her hair colour had been caramel once. Now it was turning slightly grey. Her green eyes, so much like my own stared back at me in shock. She had lines around her eyes, on her chin and around her lips. Signs of aging. That's when it hit me. It must have been months since I had last seen her. Doing the math I realized it had been around eight months. Do people get wrinkles within that time? May be I hadn't been as observant then as I was now.

She was dressed in a plain floral print shirt and khaki pants that were rolled up to her knees. She was holding a pair of yellow plastic gloves covered in….dirt? No, it looked more like mud. She must have been doing some gardening. She had her other hand placed on the edge of the partially opened door. The expression of shock lingered on her face. She didn't move a muscle. She looked like she had frozen in place.

I decided I should break the silence first. "Hey, mom," I said with a smile.

I stood there awkwardly, carrying my overnight bag in one hand. At the sound of my voice, Esme opened the door further, took a few steps towards me and dropped the gloves she was holding. With a strangled cry, she wrapped her arms around me and started sobbing noiselessly into my shirt collar. I felt her shake slightly every time she elicited a tearful sob. With a sigh, I wrapped my free hand around her and hugged her back. Esme smelled like bougainvilleas, sweet tea and spring breeze. It felt like home.

Finally, when she was done crying, she stood back and roamed her eyes all over me like she couldn't believe I was there. She wiped her cheeks and ran her hands through my hair, before resting them on my cheek.

"My baby's come home," she finally said.

I rolled my eyes. "Your 'baby' will be turning 30 this year."

"Nonsense. You will still be my baby even when you are 60," she chastised, but her face broke into a smile.

Walking into the house brought back all the old memories of my childhood. The place was furnished in exactly the same way as it had been when we first moved in. Since Carlisle passed away after living in this house for a decade, Esme wanted to keep things as they were. I now realize that it was her way to keep something intact and unchanged since our entire world turned upside down after Carlisle's early demise.

This property was previously owned by my grandfather, Carlisle's father. It was passed onto Carlisle after his father died. I was born three years after my parents got married and two years after Carlisle finished medical school. While he was doing his residency, we lived in a small studio two-room apartment. It was so much worse than Angela and my apartment in Queens. The kitchen cabinets were hanging off their hinges, the radiator was faulty and the pipes under the sink had leaks in them. We had no choice. Carlisle was still paying his education loan.

After practicing for five years, Carlisle finally started building this house. Esme was enthusiastic about everything from choosing the right fabric for the curtains to the perfect wallpaper for each room. Initially, after the house was built, we bought just some necessary furniture. It took a while for Carlisle's career as a neurosurgeon to bloom before we could afford all other luxuries a doctor could provide to his family. Little by little, one item at a time, one day Esme finally finished decorating the place. And every little object has remained in its place in all these years.

I finished my bachelor's degree with the help of a little trust fund my grandfather left for me. After Carlisle's death, Esme worked a full-day job at the local elementary school. I knew she hated leaving me behind while she worked during the day, but we had no other choice. My mother and I had stuck together ever since. She had been there for me when I had needed her the most. Now, as an adult, I couldn't afford to forget that.

I dropped my overnight bad beside the familiar beige-coloured couch. I walked around the living room, inspecting the little nooks and cranny for any change. There were none. In fact the only change I could see was in the person standing before me.

Esme looked like she had aged a couple of years since the last time I saw her. Her wrinkles under her eyes were more visible now and I could see that more of her hair on top of her head was turning grey. Her eyes looked tired but they held some brightness in them in seeing me. I sighed as I realized how much I had missed her.

"It's good to be home," I said.

She nodded and smiled at me. She walked towards the kitchen and I followed her. She dropped her gloves beside the sink and washed her hands.

"You must be hungry," she said.

I nodded because I truly was.

"I haven't started making lunch yet. So, why don't you go upstairs and take a shower while I start lunch?"

Just like the rest of the house, my room looked exactly like it did when I was younger. There was a blue bedspread on my old bed and with a pang of distress. I realized she had changed the covers of a bed that no one was sleeping on. My study table still had the same reading light and some old battered paperbacks from my teenage years. The closet was mostly empty, except for some old clothes of mine. I cringed slightly when I saw my old 90s style suit I wore at my prom.

On the nightstand, there was a picture of me and Esme, taken during my high school graduation. Beside this picture, there was another embarrassing one of a six-year old me, in a beach, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. My eyes rested on the last picture frame. It was taken during Senior prom. Angela and I faced the camera, both looking awkward with the pimples and fancy clothes. But our smiles were genuine. We looked happy.

I turned my back to the picture, grabbed a towel and clothes from my overnight

bag and headed to the shower. After I was done, I padded downstairs, feeling familiar smoothness of the carpeted stairs under my feet and was met with a mouth-watering aroma that was Esme's cooking.

Mozzarella cheese sticks and roast beef sandwiches waited for me at the table. I sat down and gorged down the food like I hadn't eaten in days. I had forgotten what an amazing cook my mother was. It was a pity I didn't learn more from her. Bella would get a kick out of that.

Bella…

I tried imagining her here, in this place. For some reason, I could see her fitting right in. Even though you could tell she's not much of a domestic person, I can see her donning on an apron that probably says something silly like "Kiss the cook" and helping Esme in the kitchen.

Esme would be thrilled to know about her.

Esme sat across from me, playing with her food, eyeing me with a slight smile on her face. I meet her eyes and tell the truth, "I missed your cooking, Ma."

She sighed and said "You poor thing. Do you even feed yourself properly?"

I smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "I survive."

"Surviving isn't good enough. Life is way too short to be surviving. You and I both know that. Life is meant for living."

I put down my fork and take a sip of the ice-cold water. "Come on, Ma. You're watching Dr. Phil again?"

"Make fun of me all you want. What I'm saying is the truth," she insisted.

"Ok, Ma. Whatever you say," I said, resuming eating, knowing it was pointless to argue with her. Part of me knew that what she was saying was true.

After lunch, Esme cleaned up the dishes. She refused when I offered to help. So I sat in the living room, flipping through the TV channels. I saw a fashion magazine lying on the coffee table and it reminded me of Bella. Smiling, I fish out the BlackBerry from my pocket and text her.

What are you doing?

X0X0

E.

Almost an instant later, I got back a reply.

Did you seriously X0X0 me? What are you, Gossip Girl?

I rolled my eyes and laughed at her ridiculousness.

A minute later, another reply.

How's family time coming along?

I type back a reply.

It's great seeing my mom after so long. Go ahead and tell me 'I told you so.'

It takes a while before my phone chirps.

I'll tell you that I miss you.

My heart skips a beat and there's something blocking my throat. I couldn't speak.

It's just one more day.

A beat. Then a reply.

It will feel like days.

I stared at my phone screen, grinning like a maniac. I didn't even notice Esme coming in and taking a sit quietly opposite me.

I looked up to meet her curious gaze and try to bite my lip to hide the smile but I fail. She sits there for a while saying nothing. I continue gazing longingly at my phone screen, wishing Bella's face would pop up in it.

This time when I look up, Esme has her eyebrows raised questioningly. I don't blame her. I had been acting like a 12 year old girl. I was this close to start giggling like Alice does when she has had too much of sugar.

Instead of explaining, I ask Esme, "Ma, did you ever consider seeing someone else after Dad died?"

As soon as the words escape my mouth, there was a flash of recognition across her face. Like she knew why I was asking her that question.

She sighed and replied, "I didn't feel the need to. I had you in my life. I considered it to be complete."

I nodded. "But if I weren't born, would you…"

"May be, Edward. I don't know. I just felt like what I had with your father was it for me. Like I said, I felt it was not necessary for me to go searching for love again."

I nodded again in understanding. My parents were one of those couples aptly described as 'soul mates.' After Dad passed away, Mom literally broke down. Like a part of her had gone missing.

"But you can be in love with two different people in one lifetime. I have seen it happening loads of times. Did I ever tell you about William?"

When I shook my head in confusion, she continued. "We met in high school. Like you and Angela did. I thought I was in love with him and maybe I was. That was a different time. I was a different person. At that time, William, the bookish quarterback was the world to seventeen-year old me."

It took me a while to accept that. Like any other kid, I always thought my parents belonged to each other and no one else. I had never given much thought about their past lives.

"Of course, I experienced a different kind of love when I met Carlisle. I was older, more mature than my seventeen-year old self. I knew what I wanted."

I nodded again, not knowing what to say.

"What I am trying to tell you is that different people make you feel different things. What I had with William was spontaneous and exciting at the time. Now I realize I never could have had a family with him. It's not like he was not a good person. He just wasn't good for me. Not the way Carlisle was."

"So, was there a reason why you asked me this?" she asked.

Wordlessly, I scroll through the photos saved in my phone and selected one. It was taken a while ago, during my and Bella's lunch with Alice and Jasper. She wasn't even aware that I had taken that picture.

I hand out the phone to her and perch on the armrest beside her. "Her name is Bella."

Esme nodded like she already knew that. "That seems fitting. She really is beautiful."

My face broke into a smile. "She is so much more than that. She is like crazy smart. A Chemistry major. Can you believe that? And she says the most ridiculous things and has a silly sense of humour and drives you crazy sometimes…" I trailed off.

My mother nodded, a slow smile tugging the corner of her mouth. "It sounds like somebody is smitten."

A/N: Review please?

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