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19.
Alea iacta est.
The die is cast.
That was the first thought that sprang to mind as Edward woke up to the predicted sounds of Carlisle losing his cool. He remembered having to read a biography on Julius Caesar in high school. And if his memory served him well, Caesar spoke those words when he crossed the river Rubicon, on his way to either claim fame as the conqueror of Rome or die a traitor's death.
It was funny how that particular saying had sprung into his mind, when Edward had hated every single history lesson he'd been forced to sit through.
It was eerily appropriate for the moment, though, as his die too, had been cast. The pills had been found. There was no turning back again.
Even if he'd wanted to.
From that point on, everything went as he had expected it: Carlisle stormed in, Bella jumped up and Edward himself acted like it was just another dramatic exit from his sister's house.
Even though it wasn't.
Far from it.
In fact, as he stood there, mechanically gathering his clothes and stuffing them in a bag, he felt like the worst kind of idiot in the world. He'd thrown away the only thing in his life that made it worth living—apart from his music. He could feel her even then, standing beside him as she radiated fear, confusion and embarrassment while Carlisle droned on in an entirely too predictable manner.
In his mind, Edward knew he was doing the right thing. He was putting a stop to their entanglement before it could spiral even more out of control than it already had. He was ending things before she could give him the power to destroy her. He was doing the right thing. He knew it.
But it still felt wrong.
Knowing he had to get Bella out of the room before his very thin resolve shattered under her heartbreaking stare, he was all too glad when his sister intervened and got her out of the room under some shitty ruse. In reality, Esme probably wanted the poor girl—formerly his poor girl—alone so she could read her the riot act and find out just how badly her good for nothing brother had dealt with the naïve, unsuspecting nanny.
Or, at least, that was what he was counting on.
His reputation and the very unsavory history would get her through it. Carlisle wouldn't just fire his best friend's daughter; not when he could point his finger and blame the guy he already hated.
She would be safe.
Out of Edward's reach.
"You've really sunk to a new low this time," Carlisle hissed, leaning against the dresser as his keen eyes followed Edward's movements around the room. "I was hoping you'd leave Bella alone, or that, at least, she had enough sense to keep you at arm's length, but doing drugs around my kids? Really, you son of a bitch?" And with that, he lunged forward and shoved his fist into Edward's gut, sending the tormented young man to the ground as he gasped for air. "I don't ever want to see your miserable face again," he added, before walking back to his previous spot.
"Ditto," Edward wheezed, wondering how a stuffy, asshole lawyer like Carlisle had managed to pack such a punch. But with burning ribs, he managed to complete his task, zipping up his bag as he looked around the room once more.
The only thing he saw was her.
Her hair fanned out on his pillow as she slept.
Her frame reflected in the windows as she stood out on the deck.
Her scent, the first thing he smelled when he woke up.
No more.
"Say goodbye to the kids for me, will you?" he asked, knowing that between his sister and his brother-in-law, some less seedy version of events would be conjured up to share with Rose and Jasper when they woke up.
Carlisle huffed as if the very thought alone was offensive to him. "Get out of my fucking house."
And he did.
As his footsteps echoed through the house, he tried not to listen to the faint sounds coming from the kitchen. "I'm going, you ass!" he cried, slamming the front door open to find a cab already waiting to take him away.
He didn't look back, not when he heard her footsteps following him on the gravel.
Not even when he heard her cries for him.
The die had been cast.
On the morning of Edward's departure, a very rare occurrence happened in the Cullen household: Carlisle took a personal day. It was something that had not happened since the birth of his youngest child. And even then it had been under heavy threat from his wife, as the unraveling of a huge case had coincided with Rosalie's impending arrival.
However, times had changed, and even without having his nose shoved into it, Carlisle knew his wife was at the end of her strength; wondering on the one side how her brother could have been so callous as to endanger the life of the very children he'd professed to love; and on the other, how she could have been stupid enough not to see him for who he truly was.
Carlisle comforted his wife to the best of his abilities and when the kids came down, they shared the burden of sitting them down and explaining why their uncle had disappeared overnight. As much as Esme had wanted to leave them completely in the dark and protect them from their beloved uncle's more sinister side, she also had to know if Edward's proclaimed carelessness had been a unique mistake or a regular occurrence.
Both parents breathed a little sigh of relief when neither Rosalie nor Jasper seemed to have ever come across any sort of drug paraphernalia around the house.
And least, in that aspect, Edward had been truthful.
After that, breakfast was a quiet affair. While Rosalie was inwardly jubilant at the thought of having her dad home for the entire day, she instinctually felt that it was not the time to show it. Still, as all four members of the family chewed on their breakfast, her small talk brought some much needed lightness to the table.
"So, kids, what's on the menu for today?" Carlisle asked, a little ill at ease as he suddenly realized he had only the faintest of ideas about what his kids were up to during the day.
Jasper shrugged, pushing a few soggy pieces of cereal around in his bowl. "Hit the waves, I guess."
"Yesterday, we made plans to go to the beach with Bella today," Rose chimed in, the prospect of a day of lounging by the water with her phone and her new best friend suddenly not sounding as appealing since there was quality time offered with her dad instead.
"I don't know if Bella is still up to it, sweetheart," her mother offered.
"She's not sick, is she?" Jasper was quick to ask, looking worriedly in the direction of the door. "She was fine yesterday, and she promised to take some action-shots of me while I'm out on my board."
"I'm perfectly fine." Both parents held their breath as they spotted Bella, standing awkwardly in the doorway. In spite of her words, Carlisle could see that she was anything but fine; the redness around her eyes and the extreme pallor of her skin shone. They were completely overshadowed by the almost painful embarrassment that spoke so clearly out of every single cell of her body. "I was wondering if I could still take them to the beach today."
Sharing a brief look with his wife, Carlisle answered for both of them. "I think that would be fine. Esme and I have things to discuss but we might join you in a while."
His words managed to muster some enthusiasm in his daughter as she went upstairs to put on her swimsuit before following Bella out to the back, the girl's constant steam of words giving the young woman a much needed respite from her own thoughts as they followed an uncharacteristically upbeat Jasper out the door.
Even in spite of the disappointment and anger he felt towards her, in that moment he couldn't help but feel sorry for her. There would be a very stern lecture before the day was done and he already dreaded the phone call he knew he was going to have to make to his friend but, at the end of the day, he knew she was just another victim in Edward's games.
"You're not going to fire Bella, are you?" Esme asked, picking up the dirty dishes left over from their breakfast. "I know she made a mistake but I've grown quite fond of her. And so have Rose and Jasper."
"I won't fire her," Carlisle reassured her, drawing his beloved wife into a hug as warm as he could give. "I don't know what Charlie's going to do when he finds out what happened, though."
"Do you have to tell him?" Esme asked wistfully.
"He's my best friend," Carlisle sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I promised him I'd let him know if anything happened. And even if I didn't…if it had been Rose instead of Bella, wouldn't you want to know?"
"Do you think he'll make her go home?" He hated to see his wife so distraught. Even though she hadn't fought him this time, he knew she regretted having to see her brother go again. For some reason, even in spite of the pain and worry he'd caused her over the years, she still loved him and seeing his worthlessness confirmed yet again, drove the knife in just a little deeper each time. Esme, meanwhile sighed, her small, perfectly manicured hand disappearing in his. "It's only a week and a half before Columbia's introduction starts."
"I don't know," he replied honestly. "But I guess we'll find out soon."
She sighed, shaking her head as her posture grew more rigid. "I can't believe Edward took advantage of her like that! And that he brought drugs into our home." There were tears, his helplessness growing as Carlisle tried to comfort his wife to the best of his abilities. It was at times like those that he wished his education had left him less out of touch with his emotions.
"We'll rally, darling," he promised her. "Just like we always do."
In that moment, Carlisle started to reconsider his ways. Over the years his career had been one of the few things that mattered to him. He was a steady provider for his family, a trustworthy husband to his wife and an absentee father to his children; and all of that had been deliberate. Growing up in a harsh, achievement-oriented household, he had learned to dismiss the things he could not excel at and focus on the things in which he could. And he excelled at the practice of law, so much so that it had made him a fortune over the years.
Growing lonely and quite uncomfortable with having to ensure dates for occasions for which a 'plus one' was required, he had found the perfect wife in Esme; someone who understood and accepted him for who he was; a companion who understood that his aloofness had nothing to do with a cold heart but everything with an inability to connect. She picked up the slack and gently let him know when he was going too far, although he suspected she was more than a little lenient on him.
It was during mornings like that, though, that Carlisle wished he had been born different. Because that day, his family didn't need a star criminal defense lawyer but a man.
It was just that he didn't know how to be that.
Thoughts?