Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything recognizable in the land of Twilight. No copyright infringement is meant.
A Man, a Woman
"A man never knows how to saygoodbye; a woman never knows when to say it."— Helen Rowland
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Edward's POV
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Something eventually must always give.
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Royce King was his name. In the final months of nineteen-thirty-two Royce King came into Rosalie's life . . . and subsequently, mine.
He was handsome (for a human), smart, rich (to be sure), and what every girl had wanted.
His family was one of the leaders of Rochester, thus making him desirable. It was oft said, in the minds of many in Rochester, "what a King wanted or sought after, they received".
The Kings was a family I wasn't partial to. Everything was about status, making more money and acquiring power. They had little regard for others around them; and though they gave monetarily to charity, it was for show.
"Oh look at how much money we've given to charity. Put our names and contributions in the Paper. Pat our backs, and notice our good deeds," I would imagine them saying.
Everything was for the status of man, and the God which they seemed to worship on Sundays came in a distant last.
But this aspect of their lives hadn't mattered. People still looked up to the Kings, envied their lives, sought to be like them.
And Rosalie – sweet, happy, beautiful Rosalie – had been oblivious to it all. She continued to live her life in beauty; oblivious to it all.
At night, while she dreamed the simple pleading of her heart, her parents planned to wed their daughter to Royce King.
"So you'll leave your lunch tomorrow, by mistake." I could hear the mirth in Lillian Hale's voice, as if she were directing the most entertaining picture. It made my stomach spasm and heart hurt.
"Of course, dear. By mistake." My fingers started to curl again and my bloodlust rose.
"And then, I'll send Rosalie on her way, needing her to deliver lunch to her father. We couldn't have him going hungry."
The tree branch above me snapped under the force of my grip, but on they continued to plot.
"And once Royce King sees our gorgeous daughter–"
"–All else will fall into line."
"Oh, Richard, visualize: the status. She'll bring us so much more than we could imagine."
"That she will, my dear."
I had to run from them. Though something inside of me begged not to leave the unsuspecting Miss. Hale alone, I had to run. Blood would have flowed freely that night if I'd stayed.
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After confessing my learning's to Carlisle, and my want to do something, he looked sad. He looked as if what I proposed was unreachable. Preposterous, even.
His thoughts only confirmed my suspicion. He cannot intervene. Rosalie Hale must be free to live her life, no matter what her parents have planned. We aren't Gods to direct humans. We cannot bring unnecessary attention to our family.
The anger which grew in me was blackening. I wanted to destroy everything within reach.
"You don't understand!" I started to yell, unable to maintain a steady voice. "You would have me do nothing. To watch as they plan her life, as if she's some cattle to sell! How could you have me do nothing, Carlisle? NOTHING!"
"Edward," he tried to reason, but I was having none of it. My rationality had escaped me.
"No. How dare you! 'We aren't Gods to direct humans,' Carlisle? So HYPOCRITICAL, wouldn't you THINK?"
"That is ENOUGH!" The windows rattled in their wooden frames, enough to startle me into silence. Carlisle never raised his voice. It was enough to literally stop me silent.
"You think I don't know? You think I couldn't IMAGINE what you are feeling. When have you become all-knowing, son? Truly?"
I opened and closed my mouth, unable to answer him.
With difficulty, Carlisle unclenched the papers fisted in his hands and sat down behind his desk. A crack ran the seam of his desk, and I started to feel bad.
"How can you forget what I suffered with Esme? When she was human and in a dire situation? I had watched her through her life, being fascinated by this human I couldn't understand." I listened to Carlisle, knowing he spoke the truth and reliving the memories with him mentally.
"I had to watch as she was beat by her bastard of a husband. What could I do? What could I offer? Blood? Death? Eternity?" –
I couldn't help but cringe as I saw all he had.
"So, I eventually allowed her to live her life . . . away from me and my watching eyes. She had to live her life, son." –
"Finding her in that morgue, after trying to commit suicide was enough to almost send me over an edge, too. I had let her go, but somehow she came back into my existence. And whether it was right or wrong, I changed her. As I had you."
I look away from him and out the cracked window pane. Later I would fix it; after all, it was my mistake.
I wondered how many times I would be put back into my place by Carlisle. How many times would I stop thinking myself all-knowing? And how, beyond everything else, was I going to let go. How was I going to allow Rosalie to live her life without my interference?
I looked back to my father and saw the venom lingering in his eyes. My vitriolic contention had done that to him.
But while looking at my sad mentor, and feeling his guilt again at having changed both Esme and I, playing God when we should have passed on, I found my strength. It seemed this man – this humane vampire – would always be my strength, my conscious.
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And so I continued to watch. As pieces of me were lost and broken by the situation, I watched Rosalie fall for Royce King. Without interference.
She was sublime in her affection for him. Never had I thought Rosalie Hale naïve, but as I watched her falling too quickly for King, I thought differently.
I could see how he looked at her, as if she were some accessory to compliment his outward appearance. He didn't love her as she deserved. He didn't respect her, as she should have been. He didn't cherish. That bastard claimed, conquered and thought he owned Rosalie.
When she was with him, I couldn't be near her. Those were the times I took my aggression out. Most of my kills had been slaughtered, all but decimated. I wasn't a messy hunter by any means, but after seeing her with King, more blood coating my clothes than veins.
It was all wasteful: she with him, and the blood of innocent animals on my body.
But like I knew, something would eventually give. Something had to always give.
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The night Royce King proposed marriage to Rosalie Hale, I fell and let it all go. I couldn't do it anymore.
That night, I had never seen a human more radiant, happier. She had glimmered brighter than all the stars in the firmament, brighter than the moon she often spoke to. Miss. Hale was untouchable.
I allowed myself one selfish act. I would allow her to go, to live her life, but I required one selfish deed.
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The days are starting to become longer again. With winter passed and spring now beginning, the days stay lighter for longer.
To a vampire, it shouldn't in actuality matter. One hour bleeds into another, until the day is over and another one begins again.
For me, Edward Cullen, twilight is my favorite time of the day: when it is neither really dark nor light. Time is in limbo, as if unsure of what to do and wanting to go either way. It suits me perfectly.
And it is near this time, an hour before twilight when I see her.
My venom seems to boil hotly as I watch her approach. It amazes me that I once thought her vain beyond reason; that I wrote her off as nothing but rudimentary. Damn, had she proven me differently? And all of it had been done unintentionally. Truly I got to see the real Miss. Rosalie Lillian Hale. The one inside her mind, inside her dreams, the one when no one else was watching.
Even with the clouds covering the sun, and twilight on the horizon, she glows amongst the gloom. Such enchantment.
Something inside my chest squeezes tightly, but I ignore the feeling. It will do me no good.
From watching her, I know this walk along the Genesee River is part of her routine. On Friday afternoons, just as the sun sets, Miss. Hale strolls along the banks near the University. Whether it is sunny or cloudy, dry or wet, she takes the same route.
Why I'm not sure, but I like to think for sentimental reasons. Rosalie seems to have a love affair with this river. She often thinks about an Iroquois story printed (a few years back) about a young, beautiful woman who threw herself off the banks of the river to escape an attack by warriors. Story goes, it wasn't long after that her lover threw himself in after her.
She often sighs when thinking about the young woman and her lover. And now, as she comes to where I'm standing, she releases the timely sigh.
I find myself wholly enchanted with her. And it will soon be over. I am done. Desolately.
"Well, if it isn't Miss. Hale . . . Rosalie Hale," I finally speak, alerting her to my presence.
Startled out of her thoughts about tragic couples, she jumps at the sound of my voice. I can't help the little, wobbly grin splitting my lips.
She looks so perfectly lovely. Her cheeks wonderfully flushed, golden hair falling from her up-do, dress blowing slightly in the breeze, visage stunning and delicate hands clasped together over her pounding chest.
Her eyes follow the sound of my voice to finally land on me. The violet is so striking. I could swear she is looking in to my non-existent soul.
"Mr. Cullen." Pleasant wonder rings in her tone. It makes something inside my chest flutter. "What a wonderful surprise."
As she approaches me, I stand up, acknowledging her presence and being the gentleman she deserves.
"I would have to agree," I tell her, unsure as to what I mean. Perhaps about the fluttering in my chest, or just her finally conversing with me (out of the shadows and knowingly).
Brilliantly, a smile caresses her lips. The purple of her irises grows lighter as she allows the happiness to flow.
It is for me. At last.
"How have you been?" she asks, genuinely interested.
Looks happy . . . so handsome when he smiles . . .
I allow my lips to part even more, but still careful to keep my impossibly sharp teeth covered. I don't want to scare her off, although I see no fear from her mind. Only real interest in my well-being and life. I still, even after all these months of watching her, cannot understand such genuine happiness.
"Okay." Honest words from my still heart. "These last few weeks could have been better, but c'est la vie." A small frown mars her face, but it doesn't detract from her loveliness.
"Terribly sorry to hear that, Mr. Cullen. Hopefully things will get better for you."
When most people offer such words it is nothing but empty platitudes, but she means it so very much.
"Thank you, Miss. Hale. Appreciate the concern." I nod my head, having to hide my eyes, momentarily, from her. I know she would be able to see the raw emotion in them.
With a clenching heart and a lump forming in my throat I look to her finger. "So the rumors are true. You're affianced."
Small giggles leave her parted lips as her cheeks all but glow in happiness. The very picture of femininity and radiance. So very gorgeous.
"Yes. I still cannot believe it." She looks off to the river, imagining her future life. I can't help but wince a little. The thought of her and Royce King together is painful to my still heart. For she is so much greater than he.
"And please," she continues, pulling her attention from the future and back to me. "Call me Rosalie. I have worn your suit jacket before, after all."
We both laugh, and though it feels foreign, I know it isn't. So many things I've shared with Rosalie. And though they were never mine – but her life experiences – I had been there to witness them.
"That you have, Rosalie." I tilt my head and study her.
Being this close to her is quite the rush, not to mention saying her given name aloud. And damn, she is even more beautiful close-up. I feel myself at another disadvantage. But this time, I don't mind as much; for soon, I shall be leaving her. Forever letting go, I remind my rebelling thoughts.
"Would you like to sit with me?" I ask, pointing to the empty stop on the wooden bench next to me.
She looks down the path, as if hoping to continue on.
Would like to sit, but hardly get the change to stroll the river. Should I invite him to join me? Too forward?
"Or I could join you, if it isn't an inconvenience or imposition," I offer, unfairly reading her thoughts.
"Of course it wouldn't be an imposition, Mr. Cullen, and the company would be quite welcomed."
Don't sound too needy, Rosalie.
"Inconvenience then?" She looks at me, a little confused until catching up. The line between her brows is quite adorable.
The sound of her laughter is brief balm to my defeated chest. Soon, I shall be gone and she out of my life.
"Not even that, Mr. Cullen." As she starts to walk away, still giggling, I pick up my feet and go after her. To be in her presence, even for this short time is welcomed above all.
"So, Rosalie, how have you been? I have yet to ask? You do look quite happy and luminous." I swallow the lump in my throat, pushing past the pain forming so heavily. "And please, call me Edward. It is only fair."
Her cheeks pinken pleasantly at my compliment.
Haven't been called luminous. How sweet.
I can't help but feel proud at her thoughts. I want to brag to Royce how very lacking he is.
"I am happy. Being engaged seems to agree with me." And sadly (only because of whom she's engaged to) it does. "The date is set for April, so not too long. The only thing I fear is the planning."
I can read that fear clearly in her troubled mind. She's afraid it won't be grand enough for the Kings; she won't be beautiful enough for him; he'll somehow find her lacking. She wants to make him happy and be beautiful for him as he is to her.
I give her the only thing I can: confidence in herself and in her abilities. "I'm sure you'll do spectacularly well. Do not doubt yourself too much. It will all come together."
I can hear her heart beat even more fiercely as her breath shortens. My eyes look over to her, making sure she's okay to continue walking.
Rosalie's studying her fingers, as if they hold the secrets to the universe. They are quite small and wonderfully delicate.
"You hardly know me, Edward," she finally whispers, peeking at me from the corner of her eyes. A little frown mars her lips. "How could you make such predictions about my abilities?"
If you only knew, lovely Rosalie, I can't help mentally argue. She is exquisite.
Playfully I ask, "Who says I hardly know you?"
Something inside feels dangerous, as if wanting to skate on sheet-thin ice.
Amusement lights up her pretty features. The laughter all but rolls from her belly.
"You are terribly incorrigible, Edward. Has anyone ever told you that?"
I give her a sly look before pretending to contemplate her answer. The sound of her saying my given name sends tingles dancing everywhere along my spine.
"Esme," I pause, adding affect to my faux-serious answer. "Carlisle. Once or twice. Every hour of every day." Her laughter continues to ring out.
"Just terrible," she mutters between her mirth.
"I shall take that as a compliment."
It is her turn to smile slyly.
"Who said it wasn't meant as such?"
"Touché."
Slowly, our laughter falls away, being replaced with a comfortable calmness. I bask in her presence and take everything, storing it in the recesses of my infallible memory.
For soon, I know I shall be far from her. This dreamlike interlude will pass, leaving me coldly bereft and lonely – once again.
Like Carlisle, I must let go. It is the right and honorable thing to do.
So much life to live, so much love to give. Cannot take it from her. I've robbed enough of unsuspecting happiness from her.
But for now, she is mine – alone.
As we reach the point where she usually turns around, we turn and head back into the opposite direction. I take my cues from her and simply follow. Every now and then, she gives me shy, little looks.
So handsome . . . I don't know why I always felt threatened by his ethereal beauty. He seems much more than that. If things were different, if Edward would have spoken with me . . . Perhaps. Another lifetime.
Unfairly, for the briefest of moments, I hate Rosalie Hale. It is intense and hot. I cannot understand why she would unknowingly torture me so, even though she can't know of my reading her thoughts.
Things aren't different, they never shall be. And the false hope . . . Damn me.
I already am.
"So, I hear your family is moving soon. Off to bigger and better things?" I am grateful for the change of subject and the small reprieve. My time with her is already limited.
"Yes. Carlisle received an offer at a prominent hospital. He feels he can do more good there." Half-truths I tell her. Carlisle did receive another offer; it isn't at a prominent hospital but in the hills of the Appalachian Mountains. It is the promise fulfilled to me by Carlisle: to settle somewhere less high-profile.
"That sounds lovely. Dr. Cullen has been quite a treasure to Rochester. I know many will see him sorry to go."
Her truths aren't fabricated. More money and a promotion had been offered to Carlisle. Anything to get him to stay. But like all places we move, our time here is over. With us unchanging, it is only a little time until someone notices something.
"He and Esme will be sad to leave, but I think we are all ready for a change." I was more than ready for a change. It felt like something big was waiting for me on the horizon. I both welcomed and feared it.
"You won't be sad to leave?" my walking companion inquires, noticing my slip. She is too sharp. Something I already know about her.
"In some ways, I supposed." I look at her, taking in every contour to her face. Her skin glows under my inspection so I turn away.
Too intense, Edward.
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I wonder what he could mean. It matters not anyway. I shall soon be Mrs. King. I love Royce dearly.
And once again, the knife inside my chest is twisted piercingly. It is time to end this, to say goodbye and allow the pain to consume me wholly. I am ready to leave.
As if my prayers are answered, we reach the bench from whence we started, to which I strategically set up our accidental meeting. It is my last selfish act.
As we near, and my heart begins to tear, I contemplate the best way to say goodbye; to go about this. Never would I imagine myself in this situation. Saying goodbye to an inconsequential human is silly to think, yet here I stand, looking at the loveliest of humans.
My hands become fists as I try to keep myself to together. The pain is starting to cripple me. How could I be in this situation? Something which started from a need to watch a human girl?
"Well, Edward, it seems as if we've reached the end." She smiles softly, looking at me from under her lashes.
Such fitting words from her rosy lips.
"It was a most enchanting stroll. Thank you," she speaks softly.
My heart can't but help finish her statement, Every moment spent with you, Rosalie Hale. The venom begins to sting the back of my eyes.
My fingers crave into my skin, and I hope she cannot hear the flesh of my palms tearing. As quickly as they appear, my venom seals them up. The small amount of pain is a welcomed relief. It will keep me together for a while longer.
"You are most welcomed, Rosalie," I murmur. "It is not every day I walk with such a lovely companion." My hand reaches out, to perhaps touch her face, smooth back her wind-blown hair, but I pull it back. Talk about inappropriate.
She smiles under my compliment, having to look away at the last second.
So terribly nice. Wished we could have been acquainted with each other more.
Again, her thoughts hit a little too close to home, for I want to say, "I know you, Rosalie. Quite well, in fact."
But I keep my words inside, not giving them to her, to whom they rightly belong to. She is human and I'm vampire. She has a right to life and I have one to endlessness.
"Well, I should probably go. Dusk is on the horizon." She fiddles with her fingers, and it is quite different to watch. She is always confident, so sure of herself. This side to her is terribly enchanting.
"Should I walk you back?" I ask, trying to be the gentleman she deserves, but silently begging her to say no. I cannot take much more.
"That is awfully kind of you, Edward, but I'll manage. My home isn't too far." I already know that, but again let it go unsaid.
We stare at each other, not being able to take our eyes from each other. The moment seems to transcend all that I've known. I am at such a disadvantage.
Without thought, and finally having to relent to this unbearable pressure pounding in my veins, I reach out and smooth back her hair. It is the one rebellion I can live with.
Softly, she gasps, but doesn't flinch away from my touch, if anything (and perhaps to my absurd imagination) she leans in to my touch.
"I wish you all the happiness possible, Rosalie Hale." My heart splinters in shreds, and the venom is scorching under my skin, behind my eyes.
I tilt my head to the side, the weight of it seemingly too much for my neck. I allow a wobbly smile to touch my lips, briefly. My words come naturally, from some unselfish place within me, "Be sure to always live your life in love. You deserve it above all."
Exquisitely, her violet eyes turn to watery pools as she stares at me in confusion, yet a deep happiness. Regardless of anything, I know she is in love with him. And I only hope that love will blossom into all the dreams of her heart.
"Thank you, Edward. Though it seems inadequate." I know she means my words from the heart. But she is wrong, her appreciation isn't insufficient. I can feel it in the shape of her thoughts, how much she means it. Her heart seems to beat with the words.
I drop my hand and watch as it falls listlessly. It is done. My short interlude with Rosalie Hale is finished, and twilight is upon me.
"You better go. I wouldn't want you walking around too late at night." She blinks several times, clearing the lovely salted-water from her eyes.
"Right, of course."
As she goes to walk off, leaving me in this lonely solitude again, she stops and turns. A beatific smile parting her elegant lips. "I'm sure I shall be happy, Edward. I love Mr. King, and he I. May you ever find the same happiness." Her hand falls over her pounding heart. "Truly, Edward."
I nod, letting her know message received. "Just be careful, Rosalie. You deserve the best," I caution, not being able to let her go without the small words of warning.
Royce King is beneath her in every conceivable way.
"As do you, Edward. As do you." She gifts me with her most dazzling smile before turning around and leaving me in the waning twilight.
When she is finally out of sight, and I can no longer hear the shape of her thoughts, my knees give way. The pain is intense and crippling.
How did it ever get to this, I constantly ask the acute throbbing in my veins, the fire of my venom, and the crack which runs straight through the center of my dead heart. How did it ever come to this?
With Rosalie Hale now gone, and engaged to someone so beneath her, I can't help but think how much I now hate this time. Twilight. Such a lonely and hateful time of day.
Thank you, Rosalie. I now despise the twilight.
I shall never look on it with gladness again. Forever I shall think of you, naïve in your love, and me? . . . Solitary in my fallen twilight.
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Author's Notes: Okay, it is finished. What did you think? Did you expect the story to end in such a way? I didn't.
This story came to me one night, when I was thinking about Edward's character and why he hates twilight so. I figured it was something more than what he told Bella. And thus this idea burst into my head and through my fingers onto my computer. It was fun to write and quite different.
Anyhow, thanks for coming along on this short ride. Writing Edward's POV is still daunting to me, but a little easier. Perhaps?
If you have the time could you please review. I'd LOVE your thoughts and comments! This is the giving season, you know (*wink*).
I'll be updating Impetus this week, too. Just an FYI. Thanks again, darling! Until next time, much love!
Finished: Monday, 2 December 2013