Chapter 8
Esme looked up from her plate as the last word of her question, the name of that mysterious Edward, escaped her mouth. A small clang echoed as Carlisle's fork slipped through his fingers and fell on the floor. His gaze was fixed on her, but he didn't seem to see her. His face was devoid of any emotion. Blank. No, not entirely. A single tear rolled on his cheek. His blue eyes were wet.
"Oh, Carlisle…"
Esme felt atrociously guilty. Whoever Edward was, remembering him was obviously very painful. She rose from her seat and went to Carlisle.
"I'm sorry…"
She shouldn't have brought that subject up. She shouldn't have been so damned curious. After all, it wasn't her business. And now, now she'd hurt Carlisle. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he pressed his head on her stomach, sobbing in her sweater.
"I'm sorry," she repeated in a murmur, hugging him tight against her.
She led him to the couch. The blankets and pillow he'd used when he was sick and slept in the living room were still there. She propped the pillow against the armrest and sat down, pulling him with her. He lay in her embrace, embracing her waist, his head resting just under hers. She gently stroked his hair, sweeping a few blond strands away from his forehead, and dropped a kiss there. Gradually, the sobs that shook his body eased, and stopped. He gripped her a little harder, burying his face in her shoulder.
"Stay with me," he whispered.
"Okay."
She sank deeper in the pillow, taking him with her. They were now more laying down rather than sitting. Carlisle was on top of her. Her arm was draped across his back and she held him tighter against her.
"Esme ?" he said, raising his head a little so they could make eye contact.
"Yes ?"
"Do you still want to know who Edward is ?"
"I shouldn't have asked you, I'm sorry I did."
"I'd like to tell you about him."
She scanned his face to see if he was serious.
"I don't want to force you," she told him quietly.
"You aren't. I – I want you to know."
"Well, then, maybe. We'll talk about it tomorrow. For now, we should sleep."
He nodded and resumed his former position, placing his head back on her chest.
"Don't go away."
She laughed a little.
"I literally can't. You've got me trapped."
"Good," he breathed, wrapping his arms tight around her waist.
"I won't leave," she promised.
He hummed and closed his eyes. Eventually, so did she. They fell asleep rocked by each other's even breaths.
They hadn't drawn the curtains last night, and so it was a faint light piercing through the clouds that awoke Esme. She blinked a few times, trying to remember why she wasn't at home, and why there was a heavy…something weighing on her. Then she saw the answer to both these questions : Carlisle. He was still sleeping soundly, his deep breaths warming Esme's neck each time he exhaled. As much as she wanted to stay like that, it was most likely that he had to go to work. She looked around her, searching for a clock, but she could see none. Her phone was still in the pocket of her coat, she remembered. She decided to wake Carlisle. As gently as she could, she nudged his shoulder.
"Carlisle…"
He didn't react. She shook him lightly again, and repeated his name. He groaned and grabbed the blanket to put it over them both. A chuckle escaped her lips. She was going to try again when his phone, which had been on the small table next to the couch, began to ring.
"Carlisle, your phone," she said.
"I bet it's the hospital," he muttered.
She pulled the blanket aside, exposing him heartlessly to the light. He squinted.
"You need to answer the call," she reminded him.
"Could you do it for me, please ?"
She sighed and reached for the device.
"Hello ?" she said, picking up.
"Ah ! Esme, is it ?"
It was the same woman as last time. Carlisle had said her name was Tanya, she remembered. It seemed she'd recognized her voice – but even if she hadn't, Esme had never had a very masculine voice, so obviously it wasn't Carlisle speaking.
"Would you tell your boyfriend he has to go to work ? He was supposed to be here an hour ago," Tanya continued.
Esme blushed lightly.
"He's – not my boyfriend…"
Upon hearing her words, Carlisle groaned. She thought she heard him whisper "Will she stop already !" under his breath. He straightened up, slipping to a sitting position next to her.
"It's all right, I'll take the call," he said, extending his arm towards her.
"He'll speak to you himself," she told Tanya.
"Great."
"Hello," Carlisle said, putting the phone to his ear.
"Carlisle, please remember that you are a doctor and, as such, paid to heal your patients and not spend all day having sex with your girlfriend."
Esme averted her eyes, but not before catching the reddening of Carlisle's face. It was unfortunate that she could hear every word pronounced by both parties.
"Stop that !" he hissed, in as low a voice as he could muster (though it was a vain effort. Esme could still make out everything he said). "Esme is not my girlfriend and I was definitely not having sex with her !"
"Whatever. We'll talk about that when you bring your ass over here."
"I've – got something to do first," he said.
"Wait," Esme interrupted.
He moved the device away from his ear.
"Don't, you need to go," she continued.
"But I promised you I'd –"
"Tell me about Edward, I know."
She caught his involuntary wince of pain at the mention of Edward's name.
"You're already late because of me. I won't disappear. You can talk to me this evening… if you still want to," she finished.
"Okay," he agreed.
He took up his phone again.
"I'm coming," he told Tanya.
"Super. Thank you, Esme !" she said in a slightly louder voice, eliciting a smile out of Esme and a sigh out of Carlisle.
"See you soon."
"Hurry up."
They hung up. He dropped the device on the table.
"I'm sorry for – all the things she said," he apologised, cheeks red.
Esme made a dismissive gesture of the hand.
"Well. I should be off."
He stood up and made for his coat.
"Shouldn't you eat first ?"
He froze in his movement.
"I – yes, you're right."
He cleared his throat.
"Would you like to have breakfast with me ?"
She smiled.
"Sure. Thanks."
They went to the kitchen.
"You're more than two hours late," Tanya informed Carlisle when he finally reached her desk.
"I know, I'm sorry," he said.
He was going to head to wherever he was needed, when he backtracked and approached her.
"Hey, if you're going to tease me about Esme, could you at least refrain from doing so when she's listening ?"
"I'm only telling the truth."
"No, you aren't. I'm not her boyfriend and we weren't having sex," he repeated.
"You didn't sleep together ?" Tanya asked with a smirk.
He blushed.
"Yes, we did, but not in the way you mean."
"In the same bed ?"
"No. On the couch."
She shrugged.
"Couch sex is very pleasurable."
If he'd been red before, now he was crimson.
"Please, stop !"
He didn't want to know how she'd come to know that.
"Okay, okay, I will."
Her smile promised it would only be temporary.
"And please, try to respect my privacy and stop talking about my love life to everyone in the hospital," he begged.
"But we'll have nothing to talk about during lunch break !"
He made a face. She laughed and relented.
"Before I start avoiding the entire subject like you asked me, though, I'd like to know something."
"You can always ask, that doesn't mean I'll answer."
"If you aren't together, what was Esme doing, a) at your house, and at a time which suggests she spent the night there, and b) in the same bed as you ?"
His face, which had gone back to its normal tint, reddened again.
"I asked her to stay for dinner yesterday evening."
Tanya raised her eyebrows.
"'Stay' as in, she was already with you ?"
"Yeah," he mumbled unwillingly. "Anyway, she agreed, and then… she stayed for the night because reasons, and, like I said before, we slept on the couch. Clothes on. We didn't even kiss. Because we're not a couple."
Tanya rolled her eyes.
"Whatever."
She softened.
"I promise I won't say anything, though."
He nodded in acknowledgment, a spark of thankfulness in his eyes, before walking away.
As soon as Carlisle emerged from the Underground, Esme stood up and seized Feathers' cage. Since she now had a functioning radiator again, she'd brought her pet to the newsstand. Days were dull when she had no one to talk to.
"Good evening, Esme !"
"Carlisle, hi !"
"I'm sorry, I'm slightly late, I had a last minute emergency."
"No worries. I hope you saved the person that needed your help ?"
"We did," he said with a smile. "Thanks."
There was a brief silence during which they gazed wordlessly at each other before he spoke again :
"Should we go inside my house ?"
"Sure. I've got Feathers, does that bother you or would you prefer that I leave her at my house ?"
"Ask her," he suggested. "Both are perfectly fine to me."
"I'd rather go home," Feathers squawked.
Esme nodded.
"Guess we'll make a detour."
She smiled.
"Unless you want to spend the evening at my house ?"
"That's a wonderful idea."
He grinned. Really nice eyes, Esme observed. Get a grip. She began to walk in the direction of her house, and Carlisle followed. She suddenly recalled their journey to the Tesco the day before, and how he'd grabbed her hand in an unexpected but very welcome move. She itched to do it again. She longed to touch him. She counted to ten in her mind to gather her courage before reaching for his arm and intertwining their fingers together. This time, it was him who squeezed her hand.
"This is it," Esme said as she opened the door.
Carlisle entered her house with an interested air on his face, looking around.
"I love it," he declared.
She laughed.
"You've only seen the entrance !"
She took off her coat and he imitated her.
"Yes, but I can see the living room at the end of the corridor and the door to the kitchen is open. Besides, it's where you live. It's bound to be well organized and beautiful."
She pinked slightly.
"Thank you."
She didn't know what else to say, so she just bent to take off her shoes. He imitated her before following her in the kitchen. They ate dinner before going into Esme's room and sitting on her bed, cross-legged. They were facing each other and their knees were touching. Carlisle took a deep breath and Esme seized his hand, giving him a comforting smile.
"You don't have to tell me," she reminded.
"I'd like you to know."
"Okay. But if it becomes too much, feel free to stop," she insisted.
"I will," he promised.
A short silence fell, and then he began to talk.
"Edward was my little brother."
Was ?
"Our parents died in a car crash. I was nineteen, he was five. Since I was legally an adult, he was entrusted to me to take care of. I brought him to school, to his extra-curricular activities. We spent as much time together as our respective schedules allowed. Med school occupied a lot of my time, but I found a way to study while taking care of him. He loved helping me with my homework, though he said he didn't want to be a doctor. We grew as close as we could with so large an age gap. We no longer had our parents, but we were happy."
He swallowed.
"It happened about two years ago. He was fifteen. I was twenty-nine. I'd been a doctor for about a year, and I was managing quite well. Edward… he fell ill. We learned later that it was a variant of the Spanish flu that had survived for a century while its 'cousin' faded."
Esme could see where the story was going now. She remembered now selling a newspaper a few years ago which bore a headline that read 'Has the Spanish flu returned ?', but she'd never bothered to read it. She gripped his hand harder as tears ran down his face.
"At first he only had a high fever, and then he started coughing a lot. He complained of a sore throat and headaches, he was cold. He wouldn't eat anything, and he grew extremely tired. I tried everything I could, but nothing worked. I didn't know what it was he was suffering from."
He was weeping now, and Esme pulled him into a hug.
"He died in a few days."
His voice broke. Esme held him while he cried silently on her shoulder. His sobs slowly changed into sniffles and she broke away, extending a hand towards her nightstand to pick up her box of tissues.
"What happened to him wasn't your fault," she said as she handed it to him.
He blew his nose.
"Yes, it was," he disagreed. "I should have spotted the signs earlier, I should have known what was happening to him, I should have taken better care of him. There's a thousand things I could and should have done better."
"No. You said yourself you tried everything you could."
"And it wasn't enough. My brother died because I – wasn't good enough."
Esme put her hands on both sides of his face, staring dead into his eyes.
"Don't say that. It's not true."
"Yes, it is," he said softly. "I'm – I'm a failure."
"You're not. I can tell."
He smiled slightly.
"You're too kind."
She wanted to insist, to tell him he'd saved yet another person that day, as he doubtless did all the time, but she knew he wouldn't accept what she told him. She let out a small sigh.
"Thank you for telling me about Edward. I know it was painful, and I'm sorry to have asked you."
"Don't be. You're my friend, I want you to know. And – thank you for comforting me. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you. But I'm glad you're here. And I can never thank you enough for all you've done for me."
She smiled and kissed his cheek.
"I'm very happy to have helped you. If you ever need anything, I'm here."
"Same goes for you."
She nodded with a grin.
"It's getting late, we should sleep," he said with a gesture towards her alarm clock.
"Yeah. I can leave you my bed if you want ? Or would you prefer to sleep in the living room ? Or do you want to go home ?"
He hesitated before answering :
"Maybe… we could sleep together ?"
They both colored instantly.
"I meant we could sleep in the same place ? Here in your bed ? I – I don't want to be alone," he confessed in a murmur.
"Of course, if it makes you feel better," she immediately agreed. "I'll go change and brush my teeth. I would lend you some clothes of mine to sleep in, but I'm afraid they'd be too small for you."
"Don't worry, I'll manage."
With one last smile, she walked out of the room.
Carlisle laid on Esme's bed. He was huddled in her blanket and his head rested on her pillow. He'd switched the lights off. He was trying to sleep, but his efforts were unsuccessful. He was waiting for Esme. He longed for her in a manner he couldn't explain even to himself. She was soft, warm and kind-hearted. She listened to him, took care of him. She'd dissipated the haze through which he'd lived ever since Edward's death. There still remained a few wisps of smoke, but she was there to blow them away. Now he couldn't imagine going back to a life without her.
The door of her room opened slowly. Her silhouette walked in cautiously. She must be trying to be careful in case he was asleep.
"I'm still awake."
She started a bit before resuming her movements.
"Oh."
She closed the door behind her and he could no longer distinguish her in the he could feel the mattress giving way under her body.
"Come closer, you don't have a pillow," he said.
She complied without a word. He could feel her warmth under the blanket. Automatically, without even thinking about it, he wrapped his arms around her and she did the same. They were both on their sides, facing each other. He could feel her breath on his face.
"Good night," she whispered.
Impulsively, he kissed her forehead.
"Good night."
