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.
The Hatfield
Railway Station is teeming with activity. People arriving and people leaving
like I am. The day is beautiful. The type of day Edward and I would have taken
advantage of, by visiting the pond or walking to our meadow. I imagine Edward being
too busy entertaining the many guests who will be anxious to congratulate him
and his new fiancée.
Victoria is surely
wearing her finest dress and her hair is most likely adorned with the precious
ribbons she is so fond of collecting. She is probably smiling prettily, making
the young men present envious of Edward’s good fortune. They would be a pair to
be envied for sure.
It’s easy to
torture oneself with such thoughts when all you have as companion is sorrow. As
much as I try to avoid dwelling in my misfortune, my mother’s silence and my
father’s telling scowl do nothing to distract me from my pain.
I know they mean
well by giving me the time and space to recover, but I wish they would overwhelm
me with words to take my mind away from what I’ve lost. I would even welcome
the idle gossip my mother is often fond of sharing.
“Bella, it’s
time for us to find our compartment. The train is about to depart,” my mother
says as she gently guides my body towards the train. I follow like a ghost follows
those he haunts, silent, grey and empty. It feels so odd to be dead to the
world when it insists in pulling you back into existence.
I take the seat
nearest the window while my mother discusses with my father something in quiet
voices. I’m not interested enough to pay attention to what they may be
discussing but I suspect it’s to do with me and my melancholic state.
They never
discussed Alice’s visit the night before, never made inquiries about my
bloodshed eyes and paleness. I believe they are entirely out of their depth and
know not how to console me. I would commiserate with their predicament if not
for the fact that I’m not certain how to deal with these feelings as well.
So far I’ve had
a relatively happy life. I’ve been loved and spoiled by my loving parents. I’ve
had friends and parties and horses and ribbons to spare. I was even beginning to
resign myself to the idea that Edward would never return my feelings and I
would be in this same situation sometime in the distant future. I had convinced
myself that when the time came I would be ready. I would be supportive of Edward’s
choice in a wife and I would remain friends with him. I had considered every
aspect of the situation and decided that I would deal with it with aplomb.
What I had not
considered in all my preparations was that I would be given a taste of my
dreams. I had not dared to even dream of the possibility that Edward might love
me as I did him, might wish to kiss me as I wished to kiss him. To be handed
all your hopes and dreams, to be given a taste of them for a single day and
then life cruelly taking them away from you was the cruellest form of
punishment anyone could ever suffer.
If I chose to
believe in the ideas of karma some gentlemen had brought with them from their
travels to India, I would be tempted to believe I was a terrible tyrant in a
past life to deserve such fate.
As miles and
miles spread between me and Edward, I place my hand against the cool window and
hope with all the strength I have left that life has a surprise reserved for me
in the future. I hope against all hope that my heart can be mended and that one
day I can look back on this day and feel whole again.
Some say time
and distance are the best balms for a broken heart. I dearly hope they are
right.
-x-X-x-
Martha’s
Vineyard, United States of America 1889
“Bella!” my aunt Leah greets me with exuberant enthusiasm. My father’s
sister is most definitely my favourite relative and the memories of happy times
spent at her house bring the first smile to my face in weeks.
“I’m so glad you decided to visit,” she continues while greeting my
parents without releasing her hold on me. It feels as though she knows I need
all the love and support people can spare on me.
“We are glad to meet again, Leah. It has been far too long,” my mother
says kissing my aunt’s cheek lightly.
“Far too long, sister. How are you faring?” My father says.
My aunt smiles affectionately at my father and they start discussing the
latest happenings since the last time we were at the Vineyard.
Martha’s Vineyard, where my aunt has chosen to reside after the death of
her husband so many years ago, is one of my favourite places in the world. I’ve
always thought Edward would visit with me one day, even in the capacity of a
friend, and expected to show him my favourite beaches and hiding places.
My aunt has devoted the last few years to breeding race horses and has imbued in me her love for riding. I have yet to learn to ride on a regular saddle with both legs on each side of the horse as she does, fact over which Edward used to tease me relentlessly as he assumed that all American women knew how.
I always replied that I was mostly British if we counted the amount of
time I’d spent in England compared to the amount of time I had spent in New
York.
I can see myself being engulfed by the joyful atmosphere of the Vineyard,
a place where people come to find solace and relaxation.
However, a wave of sadness washes over me when I see a painting above my
aunt’s mantel. A few years ago Edward and I had posed for a painting my aunt
had ordered. I was barely thirteen and very uncomfortable with the changes my
body was going through as I took on a more womanly shape. Edward was equally discontent
with his new lanky figure and ever changing voice timbre. However, my aunt had
insisted so forcefully that she needed a portrait of me and my ‘little friend’—as
she referred to Edward— that I had finally relented and convinced Edward to accompany
me in my misery.
Now looking at that painting makes all the pain of what I’ve left behind
resurface and before my parents or my aunt can utter a word I run away.
-x-X-x-
My aunt’s residence is one of the most beautiful in the Vineyard. She takes
great pride in her house and the horses she breeds and it shows in the way they
thrive under her care.
One of my most beloved places to sit with a book and read is a rock
overlooking the sea that’s a few paces away from the main house. As a small
child whenever I visited and was missing Edward dearly, I would come to this
rock and pretend he could hear me from across the ocean.
As I sit in this once favoured hideaway, looking over the breaking waves,
I wish he could really hear me and see the tears and pain his decision has
caused me.
“Hello, Bella,” I hear my aunt say as she sits herself next to me on the rock.
I don’t reply. I remain as silent as I’ve been for the last few weeks. Silence
seems to be my ally in concealing most of the pain that rips at my heart every day.
“Your parents never mentioned that your little friend was the one who had
caused you such sorrow. I suppose they thought it was none of my business, but
now I wish they had been more forthcoming about the situation.”
“I would have been here at some point no matter what either of you did or
hide to protect me,” I state in a dull voice.
“I know,” she says and I notice a tone of regret, maybe longing in her
voice as well.
After a few moments of silence my aunt speaks again.
“Did your father ever tell you why I never remarried and relocated to the
Vineyard after my husband’s death?”
I shake my head. I wondered a few times over the years, why a woman as
beautiful as my aunt would become a recluse and never remarry when she became a
widow at a very young age. However, when I was old enough to form my own
conclusions I simply assumed she had loved her husband too strongly to even
entertain the idea of a new man in her life.
She sighs but it’s not a heavy sigh as the ones that have plagued me in
recent times. It’s not the heavy sigh of my mother when I don’t reply or the
heavy sigh of my father when I ignore him entirely. It’s the sigh of a person
who is remembering something fondly even as it hurts her in a way.
“I always thought I was the only one with this curse in the Swan family.
My parents were a happy pair. Until the day they died, each at their own time,
they were devoted to each other. Your father went to England with no intention
of finding himself an English bride and yet he fell for your mother after
seeing her in just one occasion. I always thought I was the only Swan unlucky
in love, and yet here you sit, a reflection of myself so long ago, I almost
feel fate is playing tricks with my mind.”
I look at my aunt curiously and she shakes her head and laughs
humourlessly.
“Oh, my sweet girl. There are so many things I’ve kept to myself for all
these years that discussing this will be a tad complicated for me. I hope
though, that after I share my story with you, you come to see me as an ally in
your predicament. And if you ever need someone to talk to, who understands what
you’re going through, that you know I’m that person for you.”
“I still don’t—” I start before my aunt hushes me.
“Let me finish,” she says with a kind smile. “Um, how shall I proceed? I
guess the beginning is as good place to start as any, don’t you agree?”
I continue to stare at her as I try to decipher what it is she wants to
share with me.
“Very well. When we were younger, Charles and I, we were not as privileged
as you have been so far, my darling. As you very well know your grandfather was
a butcher. And although his business prospered enough to support his family and
give Charles and me a sound education, we were never rich by any means.
“When I was seventeen I fell in love with a boy I’ve met in my father’s
store. He was the son of a family friend and had visited frequently in the
past. However, when I saw him on my seventeen birthday it was as if I was
seeing him for the first time. He courted me and even requested my hand in
marriage that same year. I was beyond happy with this turn of events. Sam, my
beau, he had an uncle who was nouveau riche, some gold miner of some sort. His
uncle offered to finance Sam’s studies and off he went to Harvard. Things were
good with us for a few years and I was preparing a wedding as soon as Sam
graduated.”
“But your
husband’s name was Jacob,” I offer, looking at her perplexed.
“Precisely my point, sweet girl. I was also married at twenty five, quite
an old age to marry if you were engaged at seventeen,” my aunt adds in a
teasing tone.
“Nonetheless, a few months before the day Sam and I had set for the
wedding he came to our house and unceremoniously asked for his ring back. I
looked at him hurt and not understanding why he needed it back. I even thought
for a moment he was replacing it with a better one since his situation had
improved somewhat.”
“He wasn’t,” I interject.
“No,” my aunt says looking towards the waves as I was before she came.
“I discovered a few weeks later that he had been courting a magistrate’s
daughter. A very rich magistrate’s daughter to whom he married not two full
months after he broke my heart in my humble father’s house.”
I grab my aunt’s hand in my mine and squeeze it gently, showing her my
understanding of her sad past.
“He had his comeuppance though,” my aunt smiles mischievously. “Not a
whole year later your father’s business flourished immensely and we became far
richer than the magistrate and Sam’s uncle could ever dream of.
“Sam came to visit me after a few months in our new Fifth Avenue mansion.
He begged for my forgiveness and stated that he had made a horrid mistake in
marrying Emily. He also promised he would get the marriage annulled and wanted
my permission to call on me once he was once again unattached. By then I was
over my childish dreams so I sent him away to his magistrate’s daughter.”
“Oh, aunt Leah!” I say miserably as I hug her tightly.
“What I meant by telling you my story was not for you to pity me. I want
you to know that this too shall pass. What you had with Edward was a childish
love, forged amongst games of hide and seek and innocent kisses. One day you’ll
find your Jacob as I did and understand love in its true nature. After my Jacob
died I saw no point in setting myself for any further disappointment with
another man like Sam. I was unlucky and lucky
in love, Bella. Like all in life pain and happiness come in waves. You too
shall find happiness again.”
My aunt kisses my forehead in a motherly gesture before she rises.
“Your parents are truly concerned about you. Please don’t make them wait
too long.” And with those words she leaves me to my thoughts.
I close my eyes and let myself cry a few more tears before I rise. I look
out the ocean and marvel in their chaotic beauty. I wish for my aunt to be
correct in her appreciation of my love for Edward. I wish for these tears to
wash away my sorrow as the waves wash away the sand on this beach.
Yet, there’s something in me that is screaming that what Edward and I had
was not a childhood love. It was a true love that was cut short.
I wipe away my tears and dust my skirts before I start towards the main
house.
If ever there was a day for my aunt Leah to be right, I hope this was the
one.
-x-X-x-
Yeah, just so you know I write each chapter on the day I’m posting it and
like I said before this Bella just won’t STFU. Lol I swear I was aiming for
1000 words daily chappies. These last few chapters have been unexpected even
for me.
Thanks for reading my little fic :)
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