Chapter 3

"He died in my arms!" Esme whispered out.

She was vaguely aware that she was engulfed in a tight embrace. A part of her might have been grateful, for that embrace was the only thing holding her upright. But her mind was too preoccupied to notice anything.

Past and present blurred in front of her eyes. A baby's wails slowly quietened into nothing while Renesmee furiously dragged a contrite teenager out of the kitchen. She heard her grand daughter reprimanding her friend.

"She lost her baby!"

"Esme, love?"

"Hold him close dear, it might help."

"What were you thinking?"

"Can you hear me?"

"I am so sorry."

"We should go somewhere else."

"Esme!"

The sound of her husband's soft voice shouting snapped her out of her reverie and she looked up into his worried golden eyes.

"He died in my arms, Carlisle," she repeated, burying her face into the soft fabric of his sweater.

His arms tightened around her and he placed a soft kiss on her head. "I think Kevin might be mistaken. We'll look into it, I promise."

His name made her look up. Kevin. Her great, great grand child? He had been sitting across from her. "Where is he?"

Carlisle looked down at her with worried eyes. "Love, he's been gone for half an hour now. Renesmee took him out. She, Ruth and Kevin have gone over to Ruth's house."

"Is he all right?" she asked him. She had vague recollection of her grand daughter snapping at her friend.

"He's going to be fine." Alice appeared beside them.

"How do you know? You can't see Renesmee or anyone around her." Esme mumbled.

Alice rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. "I don't need to see her. I know her. She isn't going to hurt him."

"Esme, let's go?" Carlisle asked her, with just a slight pressure on her back, guiding her away from her seat in the kitchen. "We'll talk it all out?"

Esme nodded and allowed her husband to lead her back. He held her as they passed by their living room, the dining table or even his office. Past any of the multiple places in their house they used for family meetings or discussing any possible crisis. Instead, they went straight back to their room, Alice in tow.

Carlisle sat her down at the edge of the bed and knelt before her. She allowed herself to be soothed by the gentle strength with which he engulfed her hands in his.

"Carlisle, what is going on?" Despite her best efforts otherwise, Esme's voice broke in the middle of her question and she beseeched her husband with her eyes to give her some answer. Any answer. Her mind stood on a precarious edge of long buried memories. If she allowed herself to think about them, to envision them, to live through them again, they would be branded into her mind forever. So she held on to the only thing that steadied her - her husband. Worried or confused that he might be, he kept his face neutral and voice smooth for her sake.

"I don't know, my love," he admitted, but there was no defeat in his voice. Only certainty. "But we will figure it all out, I promise."

Alice nodded her assent. "I called Edward and Jazz. They are on their way."

Esme gave a small nod, her mind dedicatedly focused on the soothing circles Carlisle's thumb traced on her skin.

The pained cries and shaky breaths echoed in her mind and louder than it, rang the silence that had followed. The silence in which a woman had screamed and cried and begged. So loud that staff and strangers had to come together to soothe her.

So many people. So many strangers. So many consolations.

Some thoughtful promises that her son was in a better place now. That he would live a life better than she could ever imagine for him.

Some thoughtless reassurance that she was young still. She had a whole life ahead of her still. She could have many children still.

And in the end, these strangers had not soothed her. They had taken her baby away. They had taken her reason to fight, her reason to live away and that was the end for her.

Esme Evenson had truly died in 1921.

And yet, here she sat, a century later.

Her husband's silent and subtle ministration doing more to soothe her than what a dozen strangers had failed to do.

"Will we be okay, Carlisle?" she whispered her next question.

Ideally a query for their psychic daughter, Esme sought answer from only one man.

And he gave her what she needed. He gave her his word. "We will. Whatever it may be, we will."

That was enough for her for now.

And that remained enough for her through the next couple of days. She stayed in Carlisle's steady embrace throughout.

Edward and Jasper came back to her, with promises that they will figure out what's going on.

Bella stayed near them with her silent support, taking over everything that needed to be done in and around the house and even outside, including calling in the hospital and taking a couple of weeks off for Carlisle.

Rosalie and Emmett were the next to arrive and with just his presence, Emmett got the entire house either laughing or shouting in exasperation.

All the while Esme clung to Carlisle's side. She could hear hear her kids flitting in and out of the house, sometimes whispering, sometimes yelling. Their voice at times playful, at times sombre. She heard it all and comprehended none of it. For even her immortal mind could only handle so much and every fiber, every spark of her being was far, far too focused on not hearing. Not hearing her child die. Not hearing the meaningless condolences. Not hearing the silence. Not hearing the blast of air in her ears. Not hearing the waves, as it crashed against the rocks.

"Esme." This time it was Edward's firm voice that made her look up. He stood at the threshold of their room. Taking a tentative few steps forward, he knelt down before her, just as his father had done so a few days ago. "Esme, it's him. It's really him. He, and his family, they all want to meet you."

Edward said something else too. But Esme never heard that. She was out of the room, out of the house, running. As fast as her feet could carry her, she ran. And her feet could carry her truly fast for she was miles away from her home and family, an invisible blur through a forest held still with frozen raindrops. The carpet of damp moss and fallen needle hushed her footsteps, her passing a secret not to be shared.

But could a secret really be kept between people who shared a heart? Who walked and moved so in sync that even her immortal senses took a while to notice a second set of footsteps running after her? Her feet faltered and his came closer.

She did not stop running. Getting as far away from him as she could.

He did not stop running either. Following after her no matter how far she ran.

Carlisle was no tracker. But no matter how many turns she took or hills she climbed or streams she jumped across, he knew exactly where she was.

And when she froze to a stop at the edge of a cliff, he was beside her within seconds.

"Do you want to meet him Esme?"

Carlisle's voice…she hated it. She hated that it did not give anything away.

A question. That was it.

No 'calm down' or 'it's going to be okay." No, he did not ask her any whys or ifs or maybes. Only her will, he sought. No reason. No explanation. No avenue for her to explain herself.

But she had to. Gods she had to explain herself!

She wanted to meet her son. As hard as she tried not to think of him, or anything that happened or was happening, she knew, from the moment Kevin first said what he said, she wanted to meet him. Even when she dared not hope, even when everything she knew told her that this was a mistake, she wanted to meet him.

And when Edward had confirmed that the impossible was the truth, she had wanted to do nothing but rush to wherever her son was. She had wanted to hold him in her arms once again. To rock him to sleep. To watch him wake up and live his life.

Yes! She wanted to meet him.

But how could she look at her husband and say that?

A man who had spent nearly a century doing everything in his power to give her whatever her heart desired. To give her a new life. To give her flowers and islands. To give her warmth and a family. To give her a reason to live again. To give her a thousand happy memories to counter each bad ones she had in her heart.

How could she look at a man who had given her every reason imaginable in the world to move past the horrors of her last life and tell him that she wanted to go back to it all? How could she look at her husband in the eyes when she had just run away from the children he had given her and say that she wanted to go meet the child her ex-husband had given her?

And Carlisle was…infuriating!

Save for concern, there was nothing on his face. She stared at him. Hard. Any signs of apprehension would have given her the answer she sought. But there was none. Only concern.

And those lines of concern deepened the longer she went without speaking.

"Esme, say something," he urged her and each word out of his mouth further infuriated her.

"Say what?" she snapped back. "I don't know what to say! I don't know what to say to him. I don't even know what to say to you! I love you, Carlisle. I love our children. But I also loved him. So much. I want to see him again. But is it even possible? For me to meet him, without jeopardizing our family? Without causing eternal resentment between the two of us?"

Carlisle's eyes widened a little before he strode forward and closed the distance between them, framing her face with his hands. He looked at her face for what felt like a long time, searching.

Whether he found what he was looking for or not, Esme couldn't be sure. All she had were his words, and when his words came, they were just like him. Gentle and sure.

"Esme," he breathed out. "When I met you for the first time in this life, I had a son."

He paused and his eyes stared into her soul.

"He is our son now. He is our Edward. The children, they're all ours. It does not matter to me if you had this child before you met me. He is as important to me as he is to you. When you entered this life with me, there were many things you were freed from. And there were equally as many things that you had to leave behind. They're all still a part of you, and therefore, still a part of me. I could never resent your happiness, love."

Esme wanted to look away but the intensity of Carlisle's gaze held her firm.

"You, or the others, might resent the trouble it would cause our family." Even to herself, she sounded petulant. But she had to be sure. She had to.

Carlisle laughed and pressed his face closer to hers, their nose almost touching. "Alice and Jasper have spent a good part of the last couple of days developing a plausible back story and forging documents for you. Edward went to great lengths to ensure that the child is indeed yours. Given the love Rosalie has for children, and the fact that you helped her get closure back in the day, I think she will happily look the other way this time around. As for the rest, I don't think Bella, Renesmee or Emmett have a single resentful bone in their body! We're all going to be okay."

All it took was Carlisle's encouraging smile to dispel whatever hesitance remained and with his gentle tugging, she started her walk back.

Their footsteps were silent but consistent. Slowly but surely, she was making her way back to her family, to her home. And while her pace might have been slow, her mind was racing. Instead of worries, this time, it was full of possibilities, queries and hope.

Amidst a thousand going through her mind, there was only one she voiced. "How did Edward confirm that it was him?"

Carlisle's face went through half a dozen of emotions before it finally settled on awkward. "Ehhhh," he breathed out, his face scrunching up and his lips stretching in an awkward pause before he gave up and looked at her. "He got someone to run a DNA test on your son and…Charles' bones."

There was a time when even his name would send a shiver down her spine. But not anymore. Not when Carlisle held her hand in his, not when he stood so close to her. Not with his love and faith protecting her from the horrors of the past.

Now, all it did was confuse her further. "Carlisle, he…died over eighty years ago. How's anything of him still left?"

Carlisle gave her a long suffering smile. "You know how a couple of our children can be a bit…theatrical at times?"

That was all the answer she needed before a similar smile was on Esme's face. She knew exactly which children her husband meant.

Rosalie and Edward - theatrical indeed. She shook her head.

In that moment, Esme decided it was best to not know the details about the fate of her ex-husband. And why should she look back into the past? Why indeed, when the best part of her past life waited in front of her?

Her grip on Carlisle's hand tightened, and with an encouraging tug, the couple flew through the woods, racing back to their family, both old and new.

[A/N]

First of all, I am so sorry for the huge delay in updates. Real life, including new jobs and heart surgeries happened all around. This was a busy few months to be honest.

But I hope you enjoyed the new chapter. I will have the next one up as soon as possible, where we finally meet the man of the hour!

Do let me know what you all think! I love reading the comments and reactions you guys leave.

If you are interested in reading more about Edward, Charles and theatrics, I have another story (currently on hiatus and will be rewritten all together) that deals with this. (Do read the warning tags on that one though. It's gonna be a bit on the darker tone, obviously.)

Thank you for putting up with my erratic schedule and I hope you all enjoy the update!
-ZQ