To all who are reading this, thank you for sticking with this story.

Recently, one of my readers asked if Esme is part of this story. I neglected to mention it in my initial story notes, but no, Esme is not part of this AU universe.

With that said, here is the next part. As always, reviews are much appreciated. :-)

CHAPTER 11

SECRETS OF THE HEART

Night had fallen. While it wasn't raining outside, thunder rumbled in the distance. Since Carlisle was at work, and the others had gone to play a nighttime game of baseball, Bella was alone in the Cullen household.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, with a glass of white wine on her nightstand, she was going through a box of mementos—pictures, letters, and journals from the past few years.

As she flipped through Polaroids of her and Edward, Bella gave a small smile, and took another sip of wine.

We were really happy back then.

Happy in a way that seemed somewhat distant now.

After setting the pictures aside, Bella plucked some journals from the box. Her diaries. It was long since she had written in them.

While she had been careful to avoid writing certain things—like the fact that Edward and his family were vampires—Bella had written a great deal nonetheless. Especially about her romance with Edward.

There, on one of the earliest pages were the words, 'I have come to realize one thing. Edward's the one. I know it, for I am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.'

Irrevocably… When it came to love, it was a weighty and perhaps misguided word for a teenager to use.

I was so young, she thought as a bolt of lightning lit the room.

Lost in reminiscence, Bella flipped through the pages one by one. Unsurprisingly, they were filled with the same idyllic vision of forever love. Switching to another journal, she realized that the pages were blank.

"Huh…" I never wrote in this one.

An idea came to mind just then, and it prompted her to fetch a pen from her nightstand. Maybe it was silly, but a part of her longed for the cathartic effect of writing one's thoughts on a page. A page no one else would read.

Pen to paper, Bella resettled on the bed, and began…

Heavy are my thoughts. How I long for simpler days, when guilt wasn't pressing on my chest, suffocating me.

Three years I've been with Edward. We're engaged now. Alice is planning the wedding and having the time of her life. With the ceremony just a few weeks away, I should be over the moon. I should be looking forward to the life Edward and I have planned to build. But I'm not. Instead, my disloyal mind is filled with thoughts of another. Of Carlisle. His brother.

The night we spent together in that seaside cottage… it keeps replaying in my thoughts. I can't shake it. Sometimes, I don't think I want to.

Her pen halted on the page. With closing eyes, she felt a shiver across her skin. When next she wrote, Bella bore the ghost of a smile.

I remember Carlisle's kindness. His scent. His touch. The headiness of his taste whenever he kissed me.

Pausing in her writing, Bella took a moment before lifting her gaze toward the fireplace, where a fire crackled softly, the sound overlapping with the slow song that was now playing on her phone.

She continued,

Even though it's wrong, I am clinging to these memories, and reliving them over and over again. Edward doesn't know. For that, I am thankful. Still, I am being unfair to him, unfaithful with my thoughts.

I keep thinking it'll pass. But it doesn't. What would Carlisle think if he knew? Oh right… he does know, if only part of it. For my eyes revealed the sinful truth the other day. We haven't spoken of it. In fact, we haven't spoken at all.

As for Edward… As much as it pains me to admit, our relationship has changed over the years, and not for the better. It's a miserable thing to admit considering I'm weeks away from marrying him. Should I, though? Should I go through with it?

A lump clogged her throat. She wrote,

I love Edward. This I know. But am I still in love with him?

I know the answer must be there, lurking beneath the surface. But because I'm both frightened and ashamed, I haven't looked. I don't think I can just yet.

Maybe it's a phase I'm going through. Maybe it's just cold feet.

Setting her pen aside, Bella read and re-read her words. When sudden panic seized her, she ripped the page, and threw it in the fireplace. No sooner had the paper met the flames than it curled at the corners. In an instant, her written confession had burned away to nothing.

And so she retraced her steps to the bed, where she sat, silent and motionless, until the sound of a car netted her attention.

Rising, Bella made her way to the window, where she caught glimpse of Carlisle's shiny black Mercedes. As the vehicle disappeared in the garage below, she contemplated what to do.

Except for a few shared glances, she and Carlisle had not really interacted since that day in the hallway. Since they both lived in the same house, they couldn't tip-toe around each other forever.

What he must think of me, she mused on a dejected sigh. Carlisle wasn't like her. Possessing the moral compass of a saint, he would never betray his brother. Even if that betrayal was only in thought. So she believed anyway.

Knowing what he did—that she was attracted to him—did he feel judgement toward her? Being the kind and compassionate man that he was, Bella didn't think so.

Still, he deserved an apology for what she had inadvertently revealed.

The others aren't home yet. Perhaps it's my chance.

Gathering her fragile courage, Bella drained the rest of her wine glass. "You can do this," she breathed, and steeled her nerves.

With that, she hastily put away her mementos, and left her room in search of Carlisle.