Stella Starlet

Bittersweet

"You don't give a flying shit about me," I said, venom audible in my tone. 

"Please, Stella, I made a mistake. I- I tried to find you but you were gone. Oh God, I thought I lost you for good." 

"You knew what was going to happen when you kicked me out. You were okay with the thought of never seeing me again."

"That's not true! I just . . . I couldn't handle it. I'm so sorry, Stella. Please, please, please forgive me," she pleaded, her eyes glassed over with moisture. 

"I  never want to see you again." 

I gripped Carlisle's hand and pulled him away from her. She stood there, dormant in shock as we walked away. 

After walking a couple blocks, silent and tense, Carlisle stopped. 

"Stella, are you okay?" He asked, his tone laced with worry. 

"I don't know."

My knees felt like they could no longer support my weight and I fell to the curb, pulling my knees in. I bashed my head against my knees in absolute frustration, anger and melancholy. 

It felt familiar, sitting on the curb a mess; mascara-laced tears falling down my cheeks, my head spinning and sprinting with a thousand thoughts-a-second. 

Carlisle sat next to me and gingerly put his arm around my shoulders. He did not talk or in any way try to push me. He let me have my moment and I was grateful; his arm around me was his way of saying that he was there for me. 

After ten minutes or so, I finally looked up at Carlisle and he took his thumb and gently wiped a tear off my cheek. 

He gave me a small smile; one full of love.

 I felt my chest warm up. 

I cracked a smile and a chuckle. "Do you think I was too harsh?" 

He closed his eyes and laughed. "It was your right to respond to the situation however you wanted to." 

I leaned into him and he hugged me tightly. 

Here Carlisle was; one of the word's most dangerous and ruthless men, holding me on the curb of a New York City street. 

I was forever grateful. 

-

"Wanna hear something fucking crazy?" Carlisle asked me as he sat down at the table where I sat eating breakfast.

I gave him a quizzical look as he slid over a file to me. 

Once opening it, I was confused. There was a photo of a man, his name and information. 

"Who am I looking at?" I asked.

"That son of a bitch who was with your mother yesterday. Turns out, he works for a companion of Enzo's. He'll be at that auction and if he's with your mother, the likelihood is that she will be too."

I held my breath and shut my eyes tightly. My resentment for her was infinite but I felt a pang of anxiety at the thought of her getting caught up in all of that. The auction was going to be a bloodbath. 

"Do you want me to take her out or make sure she never gets to the auction?" Carlisle asked. 

"As much as I hate her, I don't want you to kill her," I responded. 

"Shit, how will I keep her from getting to that auction?" He asked rhetorically, putting his head in his hands. 

I smiled and nudged his leg. "Make a huge ring of fire around her house."

We both laughed but then pain shot through my neck. 

"When do I get these monstrosities out of my neck?" I asked Carlisle, pointing to the stitches. "I'm tired of wearing scarves out in public."

"I can follow up with the doctor. How are you feeling?" 

I shrugged and began to fiddle with the straw in the glass in front of me. "I'm okay; definitely better. I mean, I'm not at the point of slitting my throat in the shower again because of a hallucination. I still get sad a lot and I really miss my coke." I chuckled bitterly. "But soon, I'll shake my cravings and hopefully it'll help."

"Is there anything I can do? You know, to make you happy when you're sad?"

I got up from my seat and walked over to him. I stood between his legs and wrapped him in a tight hug. "Just continue to be the man I love."

"Look at wedding magazines, get an idea of what you want for our wedding. I want it to be the happiest day of your life. Anything you want." 

"That's wild isn't it?"

"What is?"

"That I'll be married to you someday."