The Story of Esme
How it began. How it happened. How it ended and how it was revived. A look into the life of Esme Cullen.
This is my first attempt at writing more than just a short story. I have always loved Esme and she is one of my favorite characters in Twilight so i jus thad to tell her story the way I've imagined it.
8. Chapter 8
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It felt like everything was going so quickly all around me but I was still going at a regular pace. I would imagine myself on a busy Columbus street, standing at an intersection, everyone speeding around me as I walked leisurely with a smile plastered on my face…one that Jack had put there just by loving me. Many would think that, considering the times, I was a hopeless case on the grounds of marriage because of my age and my independent, self-sufficient, revolutionary lifestyle. I was a twenty-one-year-old woman with no need for a man and no intention to be ruled by anyone other than myself. I had defied all norms of the era; I was the opposite of the woman many in Ohio were at my age. Most were married off and starting families of their own while I was just beginning my first romance. But I didn’t mind. I’d always believed that things come in their own time and that everything happens for a reason. Call me a hopeless romantic or just plain hopeless. It doesn’t matter to me.
Our courtship was unlike any that I had ever witnessed; it was unorthodox and would have been considered dishonorable but we didn’t care. We were in love. It was as simple as that. All those years prior, when I had been madly in love with him and him with I, they seemed to be coming back together. Fate had reunited us and I planned on taking full advantage of that. We
We saw each other every chance we could find. Though our parents knew of our courtship, they were oblivious to just how intimate we had gotten as time went by. To be honest, it was good that they didn’t know because they would have been shocked at how reckless and lovesick I had gotten, though I wondered how blind they could have been. I mean there was a noticeable change in my behavior. I was distracted and consumed by my thoughts of Jack constantly yet no one acknowledged anything. Someone could be talking to me and the only thing on my mind would be the last moment I’d spent with Jack. It didn’t matter what was going on; the kitchen could have been on fire and I would have to have been burning in order for me to notice.
My mother approved greatly of our “mutual interest”, as she called it, mostly because he came from a family of substantial means and by marrying him I could secure my family for the rest of our lives. Whenever she saw us strolling around the fields near my house, she would smile coyly and make a silent escape to leave us alone together. Unbeknownst to her, though, he would visit my window nearly every night, like my very own Romeo, and I would sneak our as quietly as possible so that we could walk to Warren Lake, the lake on the eastern end of my family’s property and just lay together underneath the stars, amongst the fireflies and crickets.
About six or seven months after we had had that first kiss, Jack snuck to my house on a borrowed bicycle and woke me up for our nightly visit to the lake. When I arrived outside after dressing in a white cotton dress rather than my nightgown, I knew something was amiss because Jack was holding a white rose and a blindfold in his hands. He handed me the rose and kissed me passionately. I smiled and drew the rose’s petals along his cheek and neck, still recovering from the kiss. God, he was a good kisser.
“Well, hello,” I crooned into his ear, sounding breathless and euphonious at the same time. I looked at the blindfold he was holding in his other hand and looked back up at him, a curious, puzzled expression on my face. “What’s that for, Jack?”
“Its to keep you from seeing,” he said, receiving a frown from me.
“Of course its to keep me from seeing. It’s a blindfold. That’s what it does,” I replied, hands on my hips. “The question is what don’t you want me to see?”
He laughed. “Well if I answered that, I would be spoiling the surprise, wouldn’t I?” he asked rhetorically as he walked behind me and slid the blindfold over my eyes, making it nigh impossible for me to see. He kissed my forehead and put his lips to my ear, so close that I could feel his breath on the skin.
“No peeking,” he whispered. I could hear him grinning just by his voice.
Putting his hands firmly on my shoulders, Jack led me through the fields and I could tell by the sound of the lake insects that we were at our spot on the bank of Warren Lake. But there was something odd that I could smell; I wasn’t sure what it was until he untied the blindfold to reveal his surprise for me, making me gasp in awe.
Surrounding a large blanket was twenty or so jars with dozens of glowing fireflies in them, illuminating the entire spot like candelabras with wings. No candles. No lamps. Only the fireflies cast light on the two of us and the setting he had prepared. There were two wine glassed and a bottle of expensive wine, obviously something he’d bought especially for this occasion, along with a little bowl of fresh strawberries and black raspberries from the bushes that grew around the lake. Heavy stones held down the blanket and there was a little vase of the same white roses as the one he’d given me earlier. I was in complete awe and all I could do was stand there, smiling in the light of the fireflies.
“You did this all for me?” I asked, tears coming to my eyes at the pure love that had been embedded into the entire spectacle. They were happy tears, the happiest tears I had ever shed in my life.
“Yes. I did this all for you,” Jack replied quietly, as if any increase in his volume might shatter the moment. Then, returning to his usual, cheerful self, he added, “It took me all of four hours to capture the fireflies but it was worth it considering I was doing it for you, Esme.”
I turned around and kissed him with more emotion and fervor than I ever had before. I was just so filled with love for this man and I thanked God for bringing him into my life. Our lips melded together, as if they were one, for a good four minutes before I pulled away and whispered into his ear, “I love you, Jack Evenson.”
Rather than being caught off-guard and shocked by the chance I had taken by officially declaring my love for him, he smiled and took my waist in his hands, pulling me closer to him than I ever had been before.
“I love you, too, Esme Platt,” he murmured. “With all my heart and all my soul…forever.”
It was then that Carlisle Cullen’s face flashed through my head but quickly disappeared back to the deepest corners of my mind when I caught Jack’s mouth descending onto mine. I knew I would never stop loving Carlisle but that didn’t mean I couldn’t still love Jack just as much.
After he retreated from our kiss, he took my hand and led me along a little path, lined with the firefly jars, to the center of the blanket where the wine and fruit had been placed. We both sat down, my head resting on his chest while he poured the wine with his other arm and the one that was draped around me. He looked down at me as he handed me the clear, yellowish wine in a fine, crystal glass. I sat back up on my own while he watched me sip the liquid to see if I liked it or not through my facial expression. If my face didn’t show it, the deep sigh of ecstasy that I gave off when I took my first sip. The beverage tasted delightful with the perfect balance of sweet and tartness.
“I take it you like the wine,” he inquired as he took a taste of his own glass, smiling knowingly. I nodded my head and smiled back.
It seemed like time had stopped as we drank the wine and ate the strawberries. He held me close, his arm draped around my body as my head rested on his chest again. We were silent, just relishing in the happiness that we both felt being together like that. There were no words that needed to be spoken. Everything we felt was communicated just by listening to the beat of each other’s hearts and by the tightness of his embrace. He loved me. I knew that now without a doubt. And I loved him. More than I could tell him through words. It seems that despite the assortment of words that I could use to describe how I felt for him, not a single one could do it justice. There was no word that I could use to express the pure love that I felt when I was with him.
After a while, we had finished the bottle of wine and I think we both felt much calmer and more relaxed, though we still had our wits about us. I had been resting my head on his shoulder when he suddenly sat up, startling me so that I nearly fell over. Once I regained my balance, I looked at him puzzled by the mixture of anxiety and nervousness on his face.
“What is it, Jack? What’s wrong?” I asked him, my voice a little hoarse from having not been used in about two hours.
He looked at me dead in the eyes before turning away to pull something out of his pocket.
It was a box. A dark blue ring box.
I was speechless. I could barely breathe. I couldn’t think or move and I think my heart had jumped into my throat.
“Esme Anne Platt,” he began, opening the box. “ Will you marry me?”
Seeing the ring made it even harder to breathe. It must have been the largest diamond I’d ever seen. There were two smaller ones on either side of the big one and all three were encased in white gold. From the looks of it, it was old but stunning nevertheless.
Even though I was severely shocked by his proposal, there was not a doubt in my mind about my answer. I shook myself out of my paralysis and managed a smile as I looked back from the ring to Jack’s face. He looked back at me, his eyes never leaving me even with the cacophonous sound of the nighttime wildlife and the illumination of us both from the jarred fireflies. My God, did he look handsome. His chiseled face was made more defined in the light and his green eyes shone with a new brilliance that made me melt. I had never thought of what I would do if I were proposed to by anyone; I had always believed marriage to be constricting and cage-like. But I guess it was one of those thing that you have to experience to actually know what you would do in that particular situation. And in that moment, I knew exactly what to do.
When he looked at me unsurely, I smiled and began to cry.
“Yes,” I said before I kissed him ardently, giving myself over to the kiss just as I had only months before when he’d first kissed me. I kept saying yes in between breaths as I kept on kissing him.
The next thing I knew he was laying me down on the blanket as gently as he could, the only light being from the fireflies. He leaned over me, brushing a lock of my hair out of my face and behind my ear and kissing my lips again. I knew what was about to happen, what we were about to do, and I was ready for it. After all, I loved Jack. He looked into my eyes for several moments before caressing my cheek with the back of his hand.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he whispered, taking in my face like he’d never seen it before in his life.
I smiled up at him and nodded my head.
“Yes. More sure than I’ve ever been in my life,” I replied, my voice low but steady.
And so, we made love for the first time, amongst the fireflies glow and the cool summer night air. We were a tangle of limbs but he made love to me gently, as if he thought I was breakable. It didn’t matter if we weren’t married...yet. It was more perfect than I ever could have dreamt it to be. I knew in that moment, that my life would never be the same but I was fine with that. I wanted this kind of a change and I welcomed it with open arms. But the most important thing I knew was that nothing could ever tear us apart. Nothing.
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