Perspicuous (J.HALE)

04

I woke up on the couch.

Carlisle was reading a book in the armchair and Alice was standing over me, arms folded and expression thunderous. She scolded me for leaving the bed she'd brought in specially and checked me over for obvious signs of tiredness, stress further narrowing her already critical eyes. I was bundled upstairs and into the shower, Esme bringing me breakfast while I dried my hair, and then I went to see Ethan.

Rose was sat in a chair in the corner of her bedroom, Ethan cradled to her chest and rocking gently from side to side. The bottles I'd left in the refrigerator for her sat empty on the dresser, and Ethan's Babygro had been changed, but otherwise they look as if they hadn't moved all night.

"Was he alright?" I asked, smiling down at Ethan.

"He was a dream," she said softly, her expression far past doting.

My smile widened. "Thank you for looking after him."

She met my eyes. "I love it. Never hesitate to ask me."

Her words were so earnest and heartfelt that it made me falter. Her eyes swivelled back down to Ethan as his face scrunched up and he punched his arms out in a drowsy stretch, and she almost glowed.

"Did you ever have kids?" I asked, tilting my head. "Before..."

For a moment, she completely closed off. Her eyes dulled and her smile faltered, and I immediately regretted asking. But then she softened again, rolling her shoulders and pressing her lips together.

"No," she said. "I wanted them, though. More than anything in the world."

I nodded.

"I, uh..." she went on. "I was due to be married. A successful man, my parents loved him. It was 1933, so, marriage and family were what I was brought up to prioritise."

I sat down on the floor in front of the chair, reaching up to let Ethan wrap his little hand around my pinkie finger as she talked.

"He seemed..." She trailed off, her face tightening. "He seemed like the perfect husband. I thought I loved him, and I imagined every single day what it would be like to have a family with him. I think I wanted that so much that I ignored some of the signs."

I watched her face silently, stomach coiling in apprehension.

She swallowed; eyes fixated on Ethan's face. "The night before my wedding, I went to see an old friend. She was recently married and had a baby boy. He was amazing." A hint of a smile pulled on her lips for a moment.

My throat tightened.

"I came across my husband-to-be when I was walking home." Her words turned sour. "He was with his friends—drunk—called me over to meet them." Her voice quietened. "He was far from perfect."

She didn't have to say it for me to understand her meaning.

I was suddenly very aware of the beating of my heart. The sloshing, wet thumps ran close to the surface of my skin, squeezing through my veins with noticeable effort, and I couldn't take my eyes off of her face. I saw what I felt in the middle of the night when I dreamed of him reflected in her eyes, and it was like a string had formed between each of our chests, pulled taut and quivering. Each new wave of pain that flared up behind her locked jaw and wrinkled brow plucked at the string and sent the feeling through me like an electric shock.

"Carlisle found me after," she said, composing herself. "He could smell the blood. He thought he was saving me, but..." She took a breath and met my eyes, attempting a smile. "I'm grateful to him. Without him I wouldn't have found Emmett. But a choice was taken away from me." Her eyes flashed. "And I'm particularly sensitive to that."