Disclaimer: These characters are the sole
property of Stephenie Meyer. I am just messing around with them.
A/N I don’t have a pre-reader or a Beta or
anything of the sort. All mistakes are mine and mine alone.
-x-X-x-
A Love So Beautiful
Hertfordshire, England 1889.
There’s a weeping willow outside my window. As a small child, whenever I
visited Masen House, I would sit by the window. I would allow the sounds of the
weeping willow swaying with the wind to lull me into peaceful place only books
had taken me before.
The weeping willow was my companion many afternoons when I was feeling
lonely, or sad, or melancholic. As I sit here, before that old window, it’s the
first time I find no comfort in the soft music the willow branches make.
I’m numb, there’s no feeling left in me but a choking sensation of desolation.
I feel as if I’m drowning, below a wall of water that pushes me under. The
harder I kick and fight to reach the surface the further I sink.
After making her announcement my mother invented an excuse to send
Victoria away. I did not hear what my mother said to Victoria, but I’m thankful
for her intervention. The instant Victoria left, unwanted tears sprang from my
eyes. They have not stopped falling ever since.
“Sweetheart,” my mother croons from somewhere near me. I know she’s
there, expectant, watchful of my emotional state. I’m frozen though— petrified
by my own despair— that I can’t focus on her long enough to utter a reply.
I feel her wrapping me in her arms at the same time I feel my consciousness
being engulfed by a deep darkness.
-x-X-x-
“I think it’s best if we leave. I can’t be held accountable for my
reaction the next time I encounter Lord Cullen.”
“Hush, Charles! We don’t want to wake her. She needs to rest. I’m so
worried about her. I still remember how intense my reactions were when I was
her age. I can’t imagine the pain she’s feeling over this most unsettling news.”
I slowly feel my mind coming into focus. The blurred edges of my consciousness
being released from the fog that had clouded it.
I can hear my parents arguing in hushed voices. For a moment I lay
confused. My thoughts are scrambled and I can’t remember why I’m lying in bed
when I can see sunshine filtering through the curtains.
Then, in a deluge, all the painful memories return, flooding me with an
intense sense of anguish. I feel as if my pain is choking me, squeezing my
chest with a heavy weight I can’t seem to lift off me.
“She’s awake,” I hear my mother’s voice say.
“How are you my darling?” My father asks. He’s standing next to my mother
wearing a mask of calmness. I remember what I heard before I was fully awake
and know it’s all an act for my benefit.
I don’t reply. There’s no answer I can give. Not one that will ease the
worry from him at least.
“Sweetheart, your father has instructed the servants that they should
pack our belongings. We think it’s best if we leave before…” my mother trails.
She doesn’t need to say what is the “before” that we should avoid. I don’t
want to think about the implications of said “before.” “Before” is all I have,
because “afterwards” is filled with nothingness for me.
“No,” I say in a whisper. My voice is hoarse and foreign to me. Empty.
“Bella, sweetheart, we need to leave. It may create some talk but the
situation would only be further complicated if you faint in front of all the
guests. You’re not feeling well and it’s no use to stay. It will only make
things more painful,” my mother urges me in a soothing but strained voice.
“No,” I repeat in a stronger voice. “I need to talk to him. There has to
be a way. I need—"
“There’s nothing more that can be done,” my father interrupts. “I’ve
offered Lord Cullen a fortune. A dowry so large, only a king would dream of
ever giving his daughter. Lord Cullen has refused vehemently. He prefers the standard
dowry Lord Whitlock-Hale can provide along with a viscountship. No amount of
money will entice him to change his mind about the subject.”
I feel as If I’m breaking at my father’s frank but hurtful words. I still
have to fight though. There’s something in me that doesn’t let me renounce my
dreams without trying every avenue, every possible solution.
“Father, if Edward were to relinquish everything and marry me. Would you aid
us? Would you help us?”
My father looks at me, solemn and impassive, a true fortress in the midst
of my stormy feelings. He simply nods.
“We would have to leave England and return to America. No one would
accept you after the scandal of Edward and Lady Victoria’s broken engagement
surfaces. You’d be scorned by society, my child. Edward would be considered honourless
and his family humiliated,” my mother observes, sharing an apprehensive look
with my father.
“I don’t care,” I state firmly. “If I have you and poppa on my side I don’t
need anyone else.”
I try to rise from bed, but I feel lightheaded. My mother helps me sit
against the pillows.
“Rest, my child. We’ll bring Edward to you.”
I sigh as in relief but there’s no relief for me until I see Edward.
Until I can convince him to leave everything behind, for me, for us. It’s the only
solution I can think of.
-x-X-x-
The next time I open my eyes I can’t help the smile that forms at the
corners of my mouth. I’m greeted by green eyes. The same green eyes I want to
see when I take my last breath sometime in the future, after a lifetime
together.
“Edward,” I whisper as I caress his face. His cheek is rough with his
morning stubble. He has not shaved and his eyes are bloodshot. He knows of the
engagement. I can see it in is lifeless expression.
He kisses my lips lightly and I can savour the salt of the tears he won’t
allow himself to cry in front of me.
“You father said you needed to discuss something with me,” he says as he takes
one of my hands in his and rubs lazy circles with his thumb over the back of
it. He’s staring at my hand fixedly, refusing to meet my eyes.
He seems lost and so, so small. He seems defeated, resigned. I won’t
allow it.
“Look at me, Edward!” I demand in the firmest voice I’ve mustered ever
since this whole debacle started.
He looks at me hesitantly, disoriented, as if I’ve shaken him from some
dark corner of his mind in which he was hiding.
“Don’t yield to your father’s desires! Don’t surrender your life to his
wishes, to his way of thinking! Don’t make the same mistake Alice made.” I’m almost crying now. I can’t allow him to
think he’s without options. We have one option left.
He doesn’t reply. He just looks at me as if his heart is breaking inside
his chest. I know him well enough to recognize he can’t see any light at the
end of this tunnel.
“Listen to me,” I beseech him. “I’ve spoken to my father. He says that if
you’re willing to marry me immediately we can still be together. He will
support us. He will help us even if your family rejects us. We can go to
America. I’ll show you my old house in New York. We can spend our summers in my
aunt’s house in Martha’s Vineyard. We can ride horses on the beach. You can teach me to ride with both legs on each side of the horse, on a normal saddle, like you always wanted. No one would judge us
there. No one would point their fingers at us. Money rules in America, not nobility
titles like here. Whoever has the most money is the one that’s most respected.
We’ll be so happy.” I finish in a trembling voice. I’m so vulnerable right now.
I’ve shown all my cards and now I’m waiting for The Fates to show theirs. This is a hand I cannot lose.
Edward rises and walks towards the same window, the same window facing
the weeping willow I was staring at this morning.
Long moments pass. My heart is beating so fast inside my chest I feel as
if it wants to run away from me. Finally, after what seems like an eternity
Edward speaks.
“I can’t,” he whispers in a soft voice.
“I don’t understand,” I say, my voice unsteady.
“My family would be ruined. No one would respect my father. My sister
would be reviled and considered person non-grata at every society ball. They
would all be humiliated and have to spend the rest of their lives in seclusion.
I can’t do that to all of them. I can’t break my mother’s heart that way.”
“No!” I cry out as I rise from bed and walk towards where Edward is
standing. I wrap my arms tightly, with all my strength, around Edward’s waist.
I can feel him breathing harshly. I can hear his heart beating at full speed.
“I won’t let you…I won’t tolerate it. You won’t be a martyr of your
father’s ambitions!” I say as small tears of anguish fall from my eyes
unbidden, staining Edward’s shirt.
Edward’s chest rumbles with a
restrained sob. He unwraps my arms from his waist and turns to face me.
For an instant I believe I have convinced him. I believe I have broken
through whatever spell, whatever words his father has put in his mind to make
him forget his heart’s commitment to mine. However, when he releases both of my
arms and walks towards the door I know I’ve lost.
He stands, his back to me, for a long time. He turns the doorknob and starts
to open the door without another word.
Gloom like I’ve never felt before grips at me and I say as loud as I can
manage in my weakened state, “I don’t know who you are anymore, but you’re not
my Edward. My Edward would have fought for us until his last breath.”
“Maybe you never knew me,” he whispers before he leaves.
-x-X-x-
Dude, I’m emo now… Ever had a bad breakup like that? A breakup that
leaves you wondering if that other person really loved you enough to fight for
you?
Er… I did mention this would have angst, right? Who is hating on
Carlisle right now? Raise your hands!
*hides under a rock*
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