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The Falling

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!

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

75. Chapter 75

Rating 5/5   Word Count 565   Review this Chapter


Two years pass. I pose as Edward’s sister, Carlisle’s wife. I hate the lie, because it should be true. But he will not ask me.

My life is good. I run in and out of the woods, I hunt when hungry, I rest when not. Edward teaches me the piano, but I lack his gift for it. Instead, I read, voraciously, hungrily, tearing apart books I was always forbidden. It is delightful that I get the chance to learn so much. Carlisle certainly does not hold me back, not from anything I want.

But he does not ever take the initiative, either. We have shared but a few kisses, and all of them quite gentle, since that first day. Nothing more than that, certainly, has transpired. I am well aware that Carlisle is too much a gentleman to do so before we’re married, and yet he shows no signs of planning to spring the question.

I would say yes.

Despite the fact that I have a husband, and he no doubt lives, I would say yes. Despite the fact that the last time I wed, the one I thought I knew turned to a monster, I would say yes. Despite the fact that I would never bring this husband a son, I would say yes. Despite everything, I would say yes.

Yet he does not ask.

It’s so infinitely frustrating.

And yet I’m happy, despite it all. I’m with the one I love. Though Carlisle works much of the day, Edward stays home. He and I have become quite good friends. I finally managed to recall a vague memory of him from my human years- there was certainly no friendship between us then. However, we get along well now.

He does tend to be both arrogant and insecure, but I’m not the girl I was then. I’m able to simply not engage in his power games. I am a woman, not a child, and it takes two to make a fight.

Edward’s petulance fades quickly enough. He does have lovely qualities. A good boy. I find myself standing in the place of a mother to him. He tells me of the woman he only barely recalls, and I count up the similarities between us. It warms my heart to think I can have a second chance at a family, even if I cannot this time bear the baby myself and watch him grow to adulthood.

This will suffice, this friendship. I get an added bonus, as well. The man I share the raising of a son with is the man I love, have loved for years, and will presumably love for the rest of eternity.

Unfortunately, this same man seems unable to make a move.

“You should tell him, Esme,” Edward says quietly, interrupting my thoughts.

“I can’t.”

“Whyever not?”

“It would be… he knows I love him. That is quite as much as I feel comfortable putting out there.”

“Esme.” Edward sighs, props one hand atop the piano, and explains. “Carlisle is three centuries old. His patience is infinite. Yours may not be.”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Would you like me to speak with him?”

I nod. “Yes, thank you.”

With that stubborn falling