𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 ➻ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧

𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲

Anastasia didn't know how much time had passed since that conversation with Carlisle. The days blurred together as she struggled with the tension of living in Seattle, still haunted by the threat of Victoria and the newborn army and the growing pull of Carlisle's words. His plea for her to leave, to escape the danger, still echoed in her mind, and as much as she wanted to ignore it, she couldn't. His voice had been calm, steady, but there was a desperation beneath it that she couldn't dismiss.

It was late afternoon when he finally appeared at her door. Her heart twisted painfully as she took him in. This was Carlisle, and he was unfortunately still the same man who had once been her whole world. And yet, everything about him felt distant. She had spent so long pretending she was over him, pretending she didn't care. But now, with him standing before her, all those feelings rushed back, unbidden, like a flood that broke every dam that attempted to hold back the rush of water.

He didn't speak right away. He simply looked at her, his gaze searching, as though he could see the turmoil inside her, the questions she couldn't answer, the hurt she couldn't conceal.

"Anastasia," he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of years of regret. "I need you to listen to me. This is the only chance we have to keep you safe. You can't stay here. You can't stay in Seattle. Victoria's army is coming, and they'll stop at nothing to destroy everything we hold dear."

She opened her mouth to speak, to argue, to tell him that she wasn't afraid of the danger, that she could handle it on her own. But the words died in her throat. She could feel the raw truth in his words, the urgency in his plea. She had seen the way Riley had looked at her, the things he had said. This wasn't something she could run from. And no matter how much she wanted to deny it, she knew she was in over her head.

"I don't know how to trust you again, Carlisle," she whispered, her voice breaking despite her efforts to stay strong. "You left me once. How do I know you won't leave again when it gets too hard for us to be together? How do I know I won't just be another mistake you make yet again in your life? A life you can live for as long as you want. A life that's probably happier without me."

Carlisle's expression softened, his eyes filled with sorrow. He stepped closer, his movements slow and careful, as if afraid to overwhelm her. "I know I hurt you. I know I left when I shouldn't have. I can't undo that, but I can show you, every day, that I won't leave you again. I can give you the time you need to learn to trust me again, I promise I can. But you have to come with me, Anastasia. You have to come with me now."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. Her heart raced, torn between the part of her that wanted to run far away from everything, and the part of her that still loved him despite the pain.

"I don't know where we'd go," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "What if I can't overcome all of this, what if it just all... Y'know?"

Carlisle reached out, his hand brushing hers gently, almost reverently. "You are stronger than you know, Ana, I promise you that. And we'll figure out anything we need to together. I'll be with you now. I always will be. I swear to you."

She stared at his hand, at the cool skin that had once felt so comforting, so familiar. Slowly, with a shaky breath, she reached out and placed her hand in his. The simple gesture felt like a promise—a fragile, tentative bridge between the past and the future.

"I don't know what this is," she said quietly. "I don't know what's going to happen."

Carlisle's gaze softened, and he gave her a small, understanding smile. "We don't need to know. We just need to take the first step and get you to safety, to make sure you finally get a rest you deserve."

And so, she did.

The flight to England was long and quiet. Carlisle didn't try to fill the silence with words. Instead, he gave her space to breathe, to think, to process everything that had happened. She couldn't bring herself to look at him much, but the weight of his presence beside her was both comforting and suffocating. The thought of leaving everything behind, the streets of Seattle, her messy apartment, the ghosts of the past, felt surreal.

When they finally landed, it was dark, and the air was thick with mist as the only sky was held above the island. They drove for hours through winding country roads, past small towns and fields dotted with ancient stone buildings. She felt a sense of displacement, as though she had stepped into another world altogether. The world she had once known felt so far away now, lost behind her like a memory she couldn't quite grasp.

Carlisle led her to a small, secluded village nestled in the hills of the English countryside. The houses here were old, built from gray stone, their roofs covered with ivy. The streets were narrow, winding around corners as if the village itself had grown up organically over time. It was peaceful here. Quiet. Safe.

Their place to stay was a cottage on the edge of the village. It had a cozy feel to it, the kind of place that was simple but beautiful in its own way. There was a small garden in the back, filled with wildflowers and shrubs. It looked like a place where time slowed down, where things were uncomplicated. Carlisle had chosen it for its isolation. For its safety.

But as she stood in the doorway, looking out at the quiet world beyond, Anastasia realized that no matter how beautiful this place was, it would never feel like home. Not yet.

"I know it's not a bustling city, with a dingy apartment. Or a town with a centre filled with shops. But you'll get used to it," Carlisle said quietly, standing behind her, his voice low and reassuring. "It'll take time. But you're safe here. We're safe."

She turned to face him, her heart a twisted mess of confusion and longing. "I'm not sure how to trust you again. How do I know this won't end the same way?"

Carlisle's expression softened, the lines of worry on his face deepening. "I can't ask you to forget what happened. But I will show you, day by day, that I'm here. That I'm not leaving. I'll give you everything you need to find peace again. Together."

Anastasia stared at him, searching his face for any hint of deception, for any sign that this was just another lie. But there was nothing. His eyes were clear, filled with something she had missed so desperately: sincerity.

And in that moment, something in her stirred. A small seed of hope, buried beneath layers of hurt and fear, began to grow. She wasn't sure what would happen next. She wasn't sure if she could truly trust him again. But for the first time in a long while, she wanted to try.

"I'll stay here until it all blows over," she whispered. "But I need you to show me. Every day."

Carlisle's smile was soft, but it was a smile she hadn't seen since they were together. It was full of warmth, full of promises. And for the first time in a long while, Anastasia believed in something other than the ghosts of her past.

"Every day," he promised.

And as they stepped inside the cottage together, the door closing softly behind them, she allowed herself to believe that this time, maybe, just maybe, it could be different.