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The Falling

Summary:
In the action itself, she is weightless and free. The flight is not to be feared, only the impact. A story on the life of Esme Cullen. Image Hosted by ImageShack.us Banner By incredible Iris!

Notes:
I may submit this to the official site. What do you think?

73. Chapter 73

Rating 5/5   Word Count 559   Review this Chapter

That single step you fall,

He is totally silent. He does not move, does not breathe, and certainly does not speak. The man looks like a statue. I close my eyes, unable to look at him. He shame of it overwhelms me. It is not the kind of thing one should go around telling ex-suitors. It is not the kind of thing one should go around telling anyone. It’s a secret. A terrible secret, and I should have kept it that way. What’s wrong with me?

I’m not the first woman in the world to live a life like this. I’m not the only one who’s survived this. Most people don’t go around telling everyone. They suffer what they have to and then get on with things.

And then, just as my self-hatred is rising to dangerous levels, Carlisle speaks softly. “Oh, Esme. My dear… Esme. I am so very, very sorry.”

Slowly, with calculated gentleness, he takes my hands in his, drawing me close to him so our arms are twined, forming a peak between our bodies.

“If I had known. If only I could have seen,” he says, and turns suddenly away from me. His fist slams through the wall, angrily, and I cringe.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, “I’m sorry. I do not mean to frighten you.”

“No… I… it’s all right. I can see why you would be angry with me.” I have changed. I see that now, that I’m not the girl I was when he knew me, heart open and carefree, tomboyish and pretty and laughing, always laughing, nose deep in books but eyes sparkling with life.

I am older now, a woman, a mother, a housewife. I’ve changed.

I understand he misses the one he could have loved.

Suddenly, he moves back to me, his palm flat against my cheek, his face inches from mine. I squeeze my eyes tighter closed. I can’t bear the overwhelming power of looking at him, not right now. Instead, I breathe in and out, since I can’t escape that. The force of his smell is overwhelming at this proximity.

“I’m not angry with you, Esme. Not… never with you. I am furious with him. And with myself. How could he do that to you? How could I leave you alone, that it might happen?”

I’d never really considered Charles’ motivations. To me, he was all but a force of nature. He swept through the world, doing what he did, without any cause or reasons why or wherefore. “I suppose he was jealous… I do not… I never could show him the affection he reasoned was his due. Truly, I have only ever loved one person, Carlisle.” It costs me a good deal to admit it.

His voice is so soft. I can feel the words in my ear. “And who would that be?”

I laugh aloud, bitterly. It’s a mock of a laugh, and the sound breaks in my ears. “Can’t you guess?”

“No.” He shakes his head. I open my eyes, slowly, in time to see it. I’m still pinned between his hands, smelling his breath, looking into his eyes.

“Carlisle. I love you. I never stopped. And I never will.”

Is the last thing left,