TEN

Arriving home at the airport felt like surfacing after being underwater for too long. The doors slid open, and there they were—Esme and Carlisle, waiting just beyond security. Esme's face lit up the moment she saw me, and she rushed forward, wrapping me in the tightest embrace I'd ever felt.

"Oh, sweetheart," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm never letting my baby go again."

"I missed you too," I said, my voice muffled against her shoulder, feeling a mixture of comfort and guilt.

Carlisle joined the hug, his arms strong and steady around both of us. "We missed you," he said quietly, a rare intensity in his usually composed tone. It was enough to make me choke back a wave of tears, but I forced myself to hold it together.

They helped with my luggage, and the drive home felt like a blur. I nodded along to Esme's cheerful updates about what had happened while I was gone, and Carlisle's occasional reassurances that everything would return to normal soon. I wanted to believe them, but a part of me felt like I'd left a piece of myself behind in Europe—left it with someone who I couldn't allow myself to think about.

The moment we walked through the front door, my family was there. Emmett engulfed me in a bear hug, nearly lifting me off the ground. Alice squealed and fussed over me, chattering about how they'd cleaned my room just in case I came home sooner. Edward ruffled my hair with a small, knowing smile, and even Bella gave me a warm hug. Nessie asked a dozen questions at once, and I tried to answer them all with the same enthusiasm she gave me. But it was Rosalie's quiet gaze that made me feel most seen—like she knew there was something unspoken weighing on me.

Esme finally placed a hand on my shoulder, her motherly instincts kicking in. "Alright, let's give Avery some space," she said firmly. "You must be exhausted, darling. Go upstairs and rest. We'll talk more later."

"Thanks," I said, feeling the exhaustion hit me like a wave. I hugged everyone one last time, then trudged up the stairs and into my room.

The moment I closed the door behind me, I felt a rush of emotions—grief, longing, confusion—all fighting to make their way to the surface. I pushed them down, determined not to let them take over. Instead, I collapsed onto my bed, burying my face in the pillow and trying to focus on anything other than him.

Dimitri.

No. I couldn't think about him—not even his name. I replaced it with Dylan in my mind, a weak but necessary precaution. And with that, I slipped into a sleep so deep and dreamless that it felt like a void, devoid of memories or emotions.

When I woke, it was dark outside. The stars twinkled faintly through my window, and I lay there for a long time, staring up at them, feeling an ache in my chest that I couldn't quite name. I knew I should try to get up, rejoin my family downstairs, but I felt glued to the bed by the weight of all the things I couldn't let myself feel.

The quiet creak of my door opening broke the stillness, and I turned my head to see Rosalie slipping inside. She closed the door softly behind her and walked over to the bed, her expression unreadable in the dim light.

"Hey," she said softly, her voice gentle in a way I rarely heard from her. "You seemed down earlier."

I tried to muster a convincing smile, but it fell flat. Rosalie didn't wait for me to lie—she simply sat down on the edge of my bed and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a hug. The gesture caught me off guard, and I felt a lump form in my throat.

"I'm fine," I whispered, my voice betraying me.

"Liar," she replied, not unkindly.

I let out a shaky breath, and before I knew it, the words were spilling out. "I had a cute date in Rome," I admitted, feeling the tears start to sting my eyes. "But… I had to leave him behind."

Rosalie didn't say anything right away, just held me a little tighter. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft but firm. "That's hard," she acknowledged, and those two words felt like the permission I needed to let the tears fall. "But it's also not the end of the world."

I sniffled, feeling both foolish and relieved. "It kind of feels like it is."

"I know it does," she said. "But trust me, it's not. The pain you're feeling now—it won't last forever."

"What if it's the most real thing I've ever felt?" I whispered, barely able to get the words out.

Rosalie sighed, pulling back just enough to look me in the eyes. "Then that's something worth remembering," she said simply. "But it doesn't mean you won't find something just as real—or even more real—again."

I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded, grateful that she was there even if she couldn't fully understand.

"Want to talk about him?" she offered, her voice still gentle.

"Not really," I admitted. "I just… I don't know how to stop feeling like this."

Rosalie smiled faintly, a hint of her usual confidence returning. "You don't have to stop," she said. "Just… take it one day at a time. And remember that you have people here who care about you. Who will help you move on, when you're ready."

"Thanks, Rose," I murmured, leaning my head on her shoulder. We sat like that for a while, the silence comfortable and the ache in my chest a little less sharp.

As the silence lingered between us, I found myself not wanting Rosalie to leave just yet. There was something about her quiet presence that felt like a lifeline, a reminder that I wasn't as alone as I felt. I shifted slightly, still leaning against her shoulder, and gathered the courage to ask the question that had been eating away at me.

"Rose?" I began, my voice tentative. She hummed softly in response, a signal that she was listening. "How did you know Emmett was… your person?"

Rosalie seemed to pause, her expression softening as she considered the question. She turned her head slightly, her eyes distant as if recalling a memory that was both painful and precious.

"It wasn't easy," she admitted, her voice quieter than before. "When I found Emmett… I was different than I am now. Angry. Hurt. I didn't believe I could have something good—didn't believe I deserved it."

I stayed silent, sensing that she wasn't finished.

"But when I saw him, it was like… something shifted," Rosalie continued, her tone almost wistful. "He was so badly hurt, but he was still fighting to stay alive. And in that moment, all the anger and pain I'd carried didn't matter anymore. I just… I wanted to save him. To keep him with me."

"Did you know right away?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Rosalie shook her head. "Not right away," she admitted. "I didn't even know if he'd forgive me for changing him—if he'd want me in his life. But when he woke up and looked at me, it felt like the world stopped spinning for a second. Like everything just made sense."

She turned to meet my gaze, her eyes steady and clear. "It wasn't a choice, not really. Emmett was my person before I even understood what that meant."

I felt a lump in my throat, her words resonating in a way that made my heart ache. "But… what if I never find someone like that?" I asked, the fear creeping into my voice.

Rosalie's expression softened even more, and she reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, an almost motherly gesture. "You will," she said confidently. "It might not happen the way you expect, and it might not happen right away. But when it does… you'll know."

Her words didn't erase the ache, but they gave me something I desperately needed—hope. Hope that maybe, someday, I'd find someone who made the world stop spinning, too.

"Thanks, Rose," I murmured, feeling a little more grounded.

Rosalie gave me a small smile, the kind that held a world of understanding behind it. "Anytime," she replied softly.

We stayed like that for a while longer, the silence between us comfortable and reassuring. I didn't feel quite so lost anymore, and it was enough.

Over the next few days, I did my best to shake off the lingering sadness. It wasn't easy, but being around my family helped pull me out of my head. By the time I felt ready to share a few things from my trip, I actually found myself smiling more often.

One morning, I came downstairs with a bag full of souvenirs. Bella and Renesmee were in the living room, and I headed straight for them. "Hey, guys," I said, setting the bag down with a grin. "Brought you some stuff."

Bella raised an eyebrow, giving me a grateful smile. "You didn't have to," she said, but I could see the curiosity in her eyes.

"Of course, I did," I replied, pulling out a delicate bracelet with tiny charms shaped like books. "This one's for you, Bella."

Bella's face softened as she took the bracelet, her fingers brushing over the tiny details. "Thank you, Avery," she said, her tone sincere.

"And for you, Renesmee," I said, turning to her with a bit more enthusiasm. I pulled out a small wooden box intricately carved with floral designs. When she opened it, inside were tiny vials of perfume from Paris and a keychain with her name written in delicate script.

"Oh my gosh!" Renesmee squealed, looking between the items and then at me with wide eyes. "These are amazing! Thank you, Avery!" She threw her arms around me in a tight hug, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Glad you like them," I said, feeling lighter than I had in days.

Esme appeared in the doorway, smiling warmly at the scene. I reached into the bag and pulled out a small framed photo, handing it to her with a quiet, "This is for you."

Esme took the photo, and her eyes lit up as she looked at it—a picture of me smiling in front of the Eiffel Tower, looking genuinely happy. "Oh, sweetheart. You know I love collecting photos of you," she said softly, a touch of emotion in her voice. "This is perfect. Thank you."

"Of course," I replied, feeling a little emotional myself.

Before I could get too wrapped up in the sentiment, Emmett strolled in, his usual grin plastered across his face. "Hey, Avery!" he called loudly, drawing everyone's attention. "Did you enjoy Amsterdam?"

I felt my eyes narrow at him, sensing a trap, but I nodded cautiously. "Yeah, it was… interesting," I said, trying to keep it vague.

"Why?" Emmett asked, his grin turning slightly devious.

I glared at him, trying to signal that he should drop it, but Emmett wasn't the type to take subtle hints. Edward, who had been lounging on the couch, suddenly burst into laughter—loud and unmistakable.

"Edward!" I hissed, realising he'd caught a slip in my thoughts.

I have to be more careful about letting my guard down around him.

Carlisle looked up sharply, his expression turning serious. Esme's eyes were already studying me with that worried, motherly look of hers. "Avery?" she asked, her voice carrying an edge of disbelief. "Did you seriously try… marijuana?"

I winced, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. "It was in a brownie," I said quickly, my words tumbling out in a rush. "And I didn't know!"

Edward's laughter only grew louder, and I shot him a death glare. "It didn't impact me… much," I added defensively. "I just… thought the ceiling had ladybugs for a bit."

Carlisle's disapproving look deepened, and Esme seemed torn between scolding me and wanting to laugh herself. Bella stifled a grin, and Renesmee just looked thoroughly amused.

Emmett, of course, was laughing too hard to breathe. "Ladybugs on the ceiling?" he choked out, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Well, at least it wasn't spiders!" I retorted, trying to regain some dignity.

Esme sighed, shaking her head with a faint smile. "I suppose there are worse things you could've done," she said, though I could tell she was still processing it.

"I promise, I won't do it again," I said earnestly, glancing between them all. "And if it helps, I did not enjoy the experience."

Edward finally managed to contain his laughter enough to say, "You really are something else, Avery."

I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, well, I aim to keep things interesting."

The tension broke, and even Carlisle's stern look softened a bit. Emmett gave me a light nudge on the shoulder, and the rest of my family seemed to collectively relax. Despite everything, it felt good to be home, surrounded by people who knew how to handle the chaos that came with loving me.

Carlisle moves to wrap an arm around me. He held me close for a long moment, his embrace strong and steady. When he finally pulled back, his eyes glistened with a mix of emotions I rarely saw from him—fear, relief, and most prominently, love. He took a breath, steadying himself before he spoke again.

"You know," he began, his voice quieter now, "it's already going to break my heart watching you go off to college. You're still my little girl, even if you've grown up far too fast."

I swallowed hard, feeling another wave of tears threaten, but Carlisle continued, his tone taking on a wistful quality. "I remember when you were three years old, terrified and trembling in my arms," he said softly. "You were so small and scared, and I worried I'd never be able to give you the sense of safety you deserved. But you grew up to be the bravest person I've ever known."

Carlisle's eyes met mine, and I could see the memories playing out in his mind as he spoke. "I've lived over 300 slow years," he continued, "but the time with you has flown by. I remember teaching you to ride your bike in the driveway—how you refused to give up until you could stay steady without my hand on the seat. And when you finally got it, you laughed like it was the greatest victory in the world."

I couldn't help but smile through my tears, the memory so vivid in my mind too.

"And when you were learning to write your name," Carlisle went on, his voice filled with a soft nostalgia, "you insisted on making every letter perfect, even if it took hours. You'd sit there with your little tongue sticking out in concentration, and Esme and I would just watch you, so proud."

I felt my heart ache at the tenderness in his words, the years of memories he was recounting so effortlessly.

"You were the most beautiful princess," he said with a chuckle. "Every costume had to have sparkles and a tiara, and you'd make Emmett play the dragon, insisting he roar loudly so you could 'defeat' him."

I let out a laugh at that, the image of Emmett pretending to be a dragon flashing through my mind.

Carlisle's expression softened further, and he reached up to brush a tear from my cheek. "Avery," he said quietly, "I want to walk you down the aisle one day. I want to watch you become a mother, to hold your child and see you build a life of your own. I want to see you graduate as a doctor and pursue your dreams. I want to see you fall in love and live a full and happy life."

There was a rawness in his voice that broke something inside me, and I couldn't hold back the tears anymore.

"If that member of the Volturi took that from you in Italy," he continued, his voice shaking slightly with the intensity of his emotion, "if they stole those moments from you, from me… I think I'd march to Italy myself, guns blazing. I felt so helpless on that phone to you."

I felt a shuddering breath escape me, the gravity of his words hitting me like a tidal wave. Carlisle's fierce protectiveness, his willingness to face the Volturi for my sake, made me realise just how deeply he loved me. It wasn't just about being my father in name—it was about the bond we'd built, the family we had chosen to be.

"Dad," I whispered, my voice trembling, the word feeling more real and meaningful than it ever had.

Carlisle pulled me into another tight hug, and I let myself lean into him, finding comfort in the warmth and certainty of his embrace. "I love you, Avery," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Please, promise me you'll take care of yourself. Not just for me or Esme, but for you. Because you have so much life ahead of you."

I nodded, the words too heavy to speak. In that moment, I made a silent promise to myself and to him—that I would try to be more careful, that I wouldn't let fear or impulsiveness put myself or my family in danger again.

When Carlisle finally let me go, he gave me a reassuring smile, and I felt a little lighter, a little braver, knowing I wasn't facing this alone. Whatever came next, I knew I had a family who loved me unconditionally—and that was enough.