Eleven
Bella
I paced back and forth in my office, my phone pressed to my ear. My stomach was in knots, and every time I thought about Edward's texts, the unease only grew stronger.
"I don't know what to do, Rose," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "He keeps asking questions, and I can't keep dodging him forever."
Rose's voice crackled through the phone, calm but amused. "You mean to tell me that Edward Cullen, Mr. Big Shot CEO, is nagging you?"
"Yes!" I hissed, glancing at the clock on my desk. I still had about five minutes before Esme and Carlisle were due to arrive for their session, but my nerves were already fraying. "He keeps texting and calling, asking for 'answers.' And every time I ignore him, he just tries harder!"
"Sounds like he's persistent," Rose said, a hint of amusement in her tone.
"Rose, this isn't funny," I snapped, stopping in my tracks. "He saw me. He saw what I did. And now he's trying to connect the dots. I'm freaking out."
"Well," she said slowly, "maybe you could just… tell him?"
I nearly dropped the phone. "Tell him? Are you insane?"
"Think about it," she said, her voice taking on a reasoning tone. "What's the worst that could happen? He already knows something is up. You're just driving yourself crazy trying to avoid him."
"I can't just tell him I'm Cupid," I said, sitting down heavily in my chair. "People don't just… hear that and say, 'Oh, cool. Makes sense.' They run for the hills, Rose."
"Edward doesn't seem like the running type. You've ghosted him for three days and he's still keen on you," she pointed out.
I groaned, rubbing my temples. "I don't know. What if he thinks I'm crazy? Or worse—what if he doesn't believe me?"
Rose sighed on the other end of the line. "Look, Bella, I get it. This is big, and it's not something you can just blurt out. He's obviously not going to drop it, so maybe you should just… feel him out? See how much he's willing to accept?"
I chewed on my lip, the thought both terrifying and tempting.
"Besides," Rose added, her tone lightening, "you're already in deep with him as far as connection goes. You may as well see how far he'll go for you."
Before I could respond, a soft knock on my door made me sit up straight. My heart skipped a beat as I glanced at the time.
"They're here," I whispered into the phone.
"Good luck," Rose said. "And Bella? Stop avoiding him. He deserves better than that."
I hung up just as Esme and Carlisle stepped into the room, their expressions a mix of nerves and hope. Forcing a professional smile, I stood to greet them, my own inner turmoil temporarily pushed aside.
But as they sat down and the session began, I couldn't shake Edward's voice from my head—or the way my heart raced every time I thought about what I might have to tell him.
Esme and Carlisle sat across from me, their tension filling the room like an electric charge. Esme's shoulders were stiff, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Carlisle, on the other hand, looked tired—his tie slightly askew, his face drawn with a mix of frustration and guilt.
I offered them both a warm smile, even though the energy in the room made it clear this session was going to be a challenge.
"How was your week?" I asked gently, keeping my tone neutral.
Esme didn't hesitate. She turned to Carlisle, her voice tight with restrained emotion. "He canceled our holiday."
Carlisle sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Esme, I told you—Edward's company is preparing for a major launch, and I need to be there to support him. It's important for him—and for us. We can go after I know he is okay."
"It's always about the company. You have retired, Carlisle," Esme shot back, her voice rising. "I rearranged my entire schedule to make time for that trip. Do you know how hard that was for me? And you just—" Her voice cracked, and she took a shaky breath. "You just threw it away like it didn't matter. Our son can hold his own."
"I didn't throw it away," Carlisle said, his voice calm but strained. "This launch of this fleet is a big deal for him, Esme. I'm trying to be there for him, the way a father should. This is his first big move as CEO and…"
"I don't care about some launch, Carlisle!" Esme's voice broke interrupting Carlisle, tears glistening in her eyes as she looked at him. "I just wanted to be alone with my husband. I wanted to spend hours in bed with you, making love while the ocean crashed outside our cabin. Is that too much to ask?"
The raw emotion in her voice hit me hard, and for a moment, Carlisle looked utterly stunned. But then Esme turned to me, her vulnerability on full display.
"He doesn't even want sex anymore," she said, her voice breaking.
Carlisle immediately leaned forward, his expression pained. "That's not true, darling. That's not true at all."
Esme shook her head, wiping at her eyes. "It feels like it."
I took a deep breath, letting the tension settle before I spoke. "It sounds like both of you are carrying a lot of hurt and frustration. Esme, you feel unseen and unprioritized. And Carlisle, you feel like you're trying to be a supportive dad, but it's taking a toll on your relationship. Is that fair to say?"
Esme nodded silently, her eyes fixed on her lap. Carlisle gave a small nod as well, his jaw tightening.
"Esme, I think it's incredibly brave of you to be so honest about what you're feeling," I said gently. "And Carlisle, I can see that you're trying to show your love through actions, even if those actions aren't landing the way you hoped. This doesn't mean you've failed as a couple—it just means we need to find a way for you both to feel heard and connected again."
Carlisle reached out hesitantly, resting his hand on Esme's. "I do want you, Esme. I want us. I just… I've been so focused… by I didn't see how much I was hurting you."
Esme sniffled, looking up at him. "I don't want the business, Carlisle. I want you. That's all I've ever wanted."
The room fell into a heavy silence, but there was a shift between them—something softer, more open.
"I think this is a huge step," I said, offering them both a reassuring smile. "You've identified the problem, and that's the hardest part. Now we can work on solutions. Let me ask you this - how did the task I give you go? The intimacy task?"
Esme's lips trembled slightly as she glanced at Carlisle, who looked down at their clasped hands. She cleared her throat, her voice soft but steady. "We did the task," she said. "And it… it helped. We spent time together without any distractions, just talking and holding each other. And… it led to a night of intimacy. It felt like a spark—something we hadn't felt in a long time."
I smiled gently, encouraging her to continue. "That's wonderful, Esme. And how did you both feel after that night?"
Esme hesitated, her gaze dropping. "I felt… hopeful. I thought maybe we'd turned a corner. But the next day…" Her voice trailed off, and she looked at Carlisle, her expression pained. "The next day, you told me you canceled our trip. Just like that, it felt like everything we'd rebuilt crumbled again."
Carlisle winced, guilt flashing across his face. "Esme, I—"
"You didn't even notice," she interrupted, her tone tinged with sadness. "I wore this beautiful lingerie that night. Something I hadn't worn in years because I thought it didn't matter anymore. But I wanted to show you how much I still wanted you. And the next morning, all I got was a reminder that the business comes first."
Carlisle's jaw tightened, and he leaned forward, his voice low and earnest. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I was thinking about Edward, about how much pressure he's under. I thought I was doing the right thing by being there for him. I didn't realize what I was sacrificing."
Esme shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. "It wasn't just the trip, Carlisle. It was the way you said it, so matter-of-factly, like it didn't even register how important that time was for us. I just wanted to feel like we mattered."
The room fell into silence, the weight of her words settling between them. Carlisle reached for her hand again, his fingers trembling slightly. "You do matter, Esme," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You matter more than anything. I just… I've been so blind to how my choices have affected you. I'm sorry."
Esme sniffled, her lips curving into a faint, bittersweet smile. "I know you mean that, Carlisle. But I need more than apologies. I need action. I need to feel like we're in this together."
I nodded, leaning forward slightly. "Esme, thank you for sharing that. It's clear that you're both committed to finding your way back to each other, but it's going to take more than one night to rebuild that connection. The good news is, you've already taken a big step by opening up about how you feel."
I glanced at Carlisle, holding his gaze. "Carlisle, I know you're trying to balance a lot—your role as a father, a husband, and a former businessman who still wants to support his family. But in prioritizing others, it seems like you've unintentionally neglected the relationship that serves as the foundation for everything else. Does that sound accurate?"
He nodded slowly, his expression somber. "It does. And I hate that I've made her feel this way."
I offered him a small smile before turning to both of them. "I'd like to give you another task—something to help you reconnect on a deeper level. This time, I want you to remove every possible distraction. Book a hotel room—somewhere quiet and intimate. Order champagne, light candles, and spend the evening revisiting what makes you both melt into each other. No phones in the room—have your children call the hotel room directly if there's an emergency. But other than that, it's just the two of you."
Esme blinked, her tears slowing as she considered my words. "A hotel room?" she repeated, her voice soft.
"Yes," I said, smiling gently. "Make it feel special. Take your time. Revisit those moments you mentioned—the ones where you felt connected and loved. You don't have to rush anything. Just be present with each other."
Carlisle looked at Esme, his gaze softening as a small smile tugged at his lips. "Only if you bring out the lingerie again."
Esme let out a laugh through her tears, her hand flying to her mouth as she looked at him with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. "Carlisle!"
"What?" he said, his smile widening. "I'm being honest."
The sound of her laughter filled the room, breaking the tension and replacing it with something lighter, something warmer. Carlisle's eyes softened even more as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
"I'll book the hotel," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "And I'll make sure it's perfect. Just say yes."
Esme nodded, her laughter fading into a soft, hopeful smile. "Yes."
I watched the two of them, the spark between them beginning to reignite, and felt a swell of satisfaction. This was why I did what I did. And as they left my office, hand in hand, I couldn't help but hope that this time, they'd find their way back to each other for good.
The bar was dimly lit, the hum of chatter and clinking glasses filling the air as I slid into a secluded booth near the back. My nerves were shot, and I couldn't stop fidgeting with the strap of my purse as I waited for Edward to arrive.
When I spotted him walking toward me, his tall frame cutting through the crowd with ease, I felt my heart skip a beat. He was impossible to ignore, even in a room full of people.
"Bella," he said as he slid into the seat across from me. His tie was gone, and his shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, giving him a slightly disheveled look that somehow made him even more attractive. "Why have you been avoiding me?"
I swallowed hard, avoiding his gaze for a moment as I tried to gather my thoughts. "I've been… trying to find the right words."
His brows furrowed, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "The right words for what?"
I hesitated, my fingers drumming nervously against the tabletop. "For everything," I admitted softly.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, Bella, I've been losing sleep over this. I can't stop thinking about it."
I took a deep breath, meeting his eyes as I reached across the table and took his hands in mine. His skin was warm, his grip firm but careful, and it steadied me just enough to take the leap.
"Edward," I said, my voice trembling slightly. "You won't believe me."
"Try me," he said, his tone soft but insistent.
I glanced around the bar, making sure no one was too close, then leaned in until our faces were only inches apart.
"I'm Cupid," I whispered.
He blinked, his expression frozen for a moment, as if he hadn't heard me correctly. Then he leaned back slightly, his lips twitching as though he was about to laugh.
"Come again?" he said, his tone laced with skepticism.
"I'm Cupid," I repeated, my voice firmer this time. "The Cupid. It's not a nickname, and it's not a metaphor. It's who I am."
Edward stared at me, his green eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to gauge if I was serious. "You mean to tell me… you're the god of love?"
"Not a god," I corrected, biting my lip. "Just the Cupid. It's… really weird to explain."
He leaned back in the booth, his arms crossed as he studied me. "You're serious about this."
"Dead serious," I said, holding his gaze.
For a moment, he didn't say anything, and I braced myself for the inevitable laughter or disbelief. But instead, he asked, "Okay… how does it work?"
I blinked, taken aback by his calm reaction. "You… you're not going to freak out?"
"Bella," he said, leaning forward again, "after everything I've seen, freaking out seems like a waste of time. Now, explain."
I exhaled slowly, my heart pounding as I began to tell him the truth about who I was, what I could do, and why it had taken me so long to open up.
