"I lost the sunshine and roses, I lost the heavens of blue…"

The three of us, Edward, Esme and I, sat at the top of a bluff away from the crowd as we listed to the music drifting upwards from Lakeside Park. Edward and Esme sat on a blanket near the edge, while I rested against a nearby tree. I had thought that Esme would be fine around the people below. After several months she had shown no signs of being ravenous the way Edward had after he had been. It seemed that it would be fine to chance Esme being among the crowd, but on the drive over Edward talked me into keeping to the bluff. So now the three of us sat watching the sun going down, listening to the music.

"I lost the beautiful rainbow, I lost the morning dew…"

My colleague, Dr. Jack Norton, had suggested that an evening of music might be "just what the doctor ordered" to sooth tension in my family. Jack was the father of six and the grandfather of double that, so it seemed that he might actually know what he was talking about. Given that I had come home to a blazing row, it had seemed like a good idea at the time; only now, it seemed to be working entirely too well.

"I lost the angel who gave me, summer the whole winter through…"

Edward and Esme were clearly enjoying each others' company, humming to the music. Every so often Edward would touch Esme's arm, lean over and say something to her. Then, Esme would smile and occasionally giggle in response, which in turn elicited a broad, lopsided grin from Edward. I tried to distract myself with the music that was floating up over the top of the hill, but at the moment I was seriously considering the murder of Irving Berlin. The music of the Berlin was the chief item on the evening's program, and every ballad seemed to tear at my emotions that had once been so well checked.

"I lost the gladness, that turned into sadness, When I lost you!"

I found myself retreating more and more into numbness. It was obvious to any fool that I was losing my "son" to my "wife" and that there was nothing an honorable man could or should do about that situation. Edward was no more my real son than Esme was my real wife. Any feelings of jealously, resentment, or sadness on my part just had to stay buried. There was simply no other way around it. I winced just barely considering the lost possibilities.

"Something wrong, Carlisle?" Edward asked, suddenly distracted from his precious conversation with Esme. I was obviously failing at keeping my thoughts to myself.

"Nothing, not really," I lied, "Just thinking about a situation with a patient at the hospital."

Edward eyed me dubiously.

"Well, don't sit there brooding," said Esme, with a warm smile, "Come over here and listen to the music with us. I think you'd actually like Berlin if you gave it half a chance. It's not like it's jazz."

For a moment I weakened, and was about to sit next to her when the bandleader below grabbed the microphone, "Ladies and gentlemen, that was When I Lost You, the last of our Berlin songs for the evening. The boys and I thought we'd pick up the pace a bit with a little something you can move to. So, put on your dancing shoes and get ready to Jitterbug and Charleston!"

Just what I needed, a musical shift to a genre I not only hated, but that also left me clueless in the realm of dance steps. I could easily manage a waltz, but these New Age dances were beyond me. I forced a smile and said, "You and Edward enjoy the music, I think I'll take a walk."

I looked back over my shoulder as I made my way down a nearby path. I wished I hadn't. I could see Esme teaching a delighted Edward how to do the Jitterbug, or was it the Charleston. No matter, I turned quickly, unable to bear the site of them holding hands. It reminded me of earlier that evening when my whole world seemed to crash in.

It had all started back at the house when the fight concluded. The way that Esme and Edward looked into each others' eyes, like they were looking into each others' souls, and then Edward holding Esme's hands and helping her to her feet. There was a connection there, invisible yet tangible nonetheless. It was the moment I knew I was desperately in love with Esme, and at the same time I saw how that it could never be. Then, all the way to the park they chatted with each other like an intended couple eager to know everything about each other. They were sharing intimate details of their lives that they had previously kept to themselves, or only shared with me.

Now that I was far enough away, I could actually think freely for the first time this evening. I was so intent in my thoughts, now that I was free to think them, that I nearly tripped over two young girls trying to catch fireflies. More infuriating than anything else, was that until now, I didn't have the chance to think about what had transpired today without alerting Edward. Back at the bluff, I realized I was doing a mediocre job at best, because now and again Edward would look over at me quizzically. I knew he was getting glimpses, but not the whole picture. I doubled my resolve; I wouldn't allow that to happen. I couldn't do that to him; it wouldn't be fair. I would be the gentleman and step out of the way…again.

History, my history, was repeating itself. I was losing another chance at love because of my own ineptitude in realizing what I had before it was lost to me. What a precious gift Esme was, all those nights talking together on the porch swing and I was too dim-witted to perceive my own feelings My mind wandered back to my life before I was changed, and how I had lost my first love from my own inaction.

"Did you hear, Carlisle? Elisabeth Smythe is betrothed to David Wilkins." My father's words cut like a dagger to the heart. I almost dropped the bucket of water that I had been carrying. "I just spoke with Wilkins. The dowry's all settled. Fine match it will be. She's a good, sweet-tempered, girl and he's a hardworking craftsmen. They'll do well together."

My heart stopped. Elisabeth? My Elisabeth? The girl who stayed for tea whenever she delivered the grain from her father's mill, the girl who would chat with me after church each Sunday, the girl whom I had desired since we both were six. David Wilkins, it couldn't be; he was a widower with a young daughter who was nigh onto thirty, and Elisabeth was just seventeen.

"Father," I queried, "Is this not a bit sudden? I do not recall there hearing any talk of them as being intended for each other."

My father looked at me with his usual disdain. Once again, I had disappointed him in some manner, though I knew not what. "Of course you have heard no talk. Are you daft, boy? There would be no talk of any kind about Miss Elisabeth of any kind or this wedding wouldn't be happening. Her reputation is as pure as--- Well, you'd be lucky to get such a girl yourself if you ever get your head out of the clouds and make something of your life. There is much evil in this world, son. If you would only stop to help me---"

"I am sorry, father. Forgive me, I spoke in haste." I replied, eager to end the conversation. I knew what he would have pointed out if he continued. David Wilkins was an established man in the community. He had his own carpentry shop that was quite successful. He had a life to offer Elisabeth, whereas I, the minister's son who had balked at joining his father's profession in the hope of being allowed to go to university and study medicine, had nothing other than myself to offer.

My father's next words did nothing to ease my heavy heart, "Make yourself useful, Carlisle, and run over to Mr. Smythe and tell him that I have just finished talking with Mr. Wilkins and I will be happy to perform the ceremony in a fortnight as discussed."

I felt like a dead man walking to the gallows on the road to the Smythe's farm. I didn't want to get there quicker than need be, but waiting was not going to stave off the inevitable.

When I arrived at the Smythe's farm, it couldn't have been worse. Only Elisabeth was there and I had to face her. Unable to look her in the eye, I barely managed to mumble the message from my father. If only I had spoken of my feelings to her, none of this would be happening. There might have been a chance if I had just spoken up, but now, it was too late.

"Carlisle, are you not happy for me? Why will you not look upon me? Have I done something to offend you?" Elisabeth asked before I could turn to go having spoken intended words of comfort that served only to cut me like daggers.

"No, you have done nothing. It is nothing," I lied, "just some things my father said are weighing on my mind."

"We've always been great friends, that shan't stop now just because I am to be married. You can come to the house and visit David and me. Nothing will change, you will see."

I managed some sort of feeble pleasantries as a response before I turned to go home, alone on a roadway with only haunting thoughts of what would never be mine as company.

My heart broke a fortnight later when I watched them marry. I thought it was the worst I would ever feel in my life; that nothing could ever be worse than watching my love be wed to another. I was wrong. A month after the wedding, plague ran rampant through our village. So many died: the young, the old, the weak. No household was spared. Within a week the town I knew had fewer than half its inhabitants, including Elisabeth.

Despair is having your love die in your arms and knowing you were too much of a coward to let her know how you felt.

Nearly three hundred years later and I was now losing a chance at love again. Only this time, fighting for what I wanted would mean hurting Edward, and I couldn't do that. And who was to say that Esme even returned my feelings? She and Edward were only a few years apart in age. She had so much more in common with Edward than a relic born three centuries ago. No, I had had my chance and I had wasted it again.

The familiar voice of Jack Norton suddenly shook me back to the present. "So I see you took my advice and came, but where is your charming wife? I'd like to meet her."

I put on a brave face and answered his question, "They're just at the top of this path. I took a bit of a break. They are playing some dance music and I'm not much of a dancer, so Esme is teaching Edward a few steps."

"Well, it certainly seems like they are getting on better than they were. See, Carlisle, as I said, a little relaxation is good for everyone. It soothes the soul. Although, sometimes the very young don't appreciate that." Jack chuckled, smiling broadly as he wiped his balding head, "My granddaughters got a little bored with the music tonight, and decided that leading their poor old granddad on a hike uphill was far more interesting."

I grimaced at Jack's commentary about relaxation. It had, after all, worked to perfection, only Edward was the recipient and not me.

"I have two of my granddaughters here with me, Penelope and Regina. Did you see them? They ran up ahead of me. Penelope's a bit too precocious for her age always spouting off about something or another, and Regina follows blithely along."

I realized that they must have been the girls I saw earlier and nearly ran into, and that their current path would land them right on top of where Edward and Esme were. "They're just up the path a bit, chasing fireflies, I think. You know if we walk up a bit we ought to catch them and I can introduce you to Esme and Edward."

"Sounds like an excellent plan," replied Jack as we slowly meandered up the path.

I hadn't noticed how steep the path was. It was nothing to a vampire, but for a man in his fifties, like Jack, it was a bit of a struggle. As we walked, Jack continued giving me fatherly advice on my family. He had just been extolling the virtues of being a good listener when suddenly two little girls, whom I imagined to be Penelope and Regina came running down towards us.

The younger of the two wearing a crisp pinafore with an "R" embroidered on the front said excitedly, "Grandpa, there's a lady up here who's sick. The man who's with her said we should leave them alone."

Before I could say anything, the other one, whom I guessed was Penelope, spoke, "I don't think she's sick at all. I hardly even bumped into her---"

"Well she doubled over when you ran into her trying to catch that firefly!" retorted Regina.

"Grandpa, she did not!" protested Penelope, "I said I was sorry, but she tried to grab me, and then that man with her grabbed her first. He said she wasn't feeling well, but I think he made it up. Anyway, if anyone got hurt, it was me. That lady has shins made of granite. I fell over and cut my knee."

I feared what awaited me at the top of the hill. I could only imagine what just happened. Penelope's version sounded exactly like what would occur if Esme were tempted by human blood. I silently thanked God that Edward seemingly was quick thinking and averted what could have been abject disaster.

I was about to say something to divert attention when Jack intervened. "Penelope, really that's a bit far-fetched, not to mention impolite. The two of you, not another word. Wait for me at the bottom of the path."

"But Grandpa!" interjected Penelope.

"Not another word Penelope. You and Regina hop to it, tout suite!"

Regina seemed to sense that Jack meant business, grabbed Penelope's hand, and dragged her down the hill.

Jack then turned to me, "I'm sorry, Carlisle. It seems that my granddaughters have forgotten their manners a bit this evening. Perhaps if they were looking where they were going and behaving in a more ladylike fashion we wouldn't be hearing this nonsense. Please see to Esme, I sincerely hope she's only had the wind knocked out of her bit. Please convey to her my apologies on behalf of my granddaughters."

"Not at all, Jack. I'm sure it's exactly what you said; it's just that the wind has been knocked out of her. Please don't think anything of it. I'll see you at the hospital tomorrow." I shook Jack's hand and he departed down the hill.

As soon as Jack disappeared around a bend in the path I sprinted to the top of the hill. Esme was sitting on a tree stump with her shoulders hunched over and her face buried in her hands. Edward was behind her gently rubbing her shoulders saying quietly, "It's not your fault. It was too soon to come out like this. Don't blame yourself; you didn't hurt her. You stopped yourself, I was holding you back, but you weren't struggling too hard. You stopped yourself before anything happened."

I didn't know what do. I felt utterly helpless and responsible. It was my insistence on coming out that had put Esme into this position. Edward had warned me, but I was too stubborn to listen. Clearly he remembered better than me how strong the early bloodlust was, or perhaps I hadn't forgotten, and just deluded myself because I wanted to please Esme with an evening out.

I didn't know what to say, the words just spilled out, "Esme, Edward's right. It's not your fault. It's mine. I knew better and didn't listen. I---"

"Please just take me home." said Esme, who had finally looked up. Her face was stricken with the terror of what could have happened. "Please just take me home."

Her look pierced my heart. I wondered how many times in one evening a heart could be broken? If only I could undo the last fifteen minutes. I'd have stopped the two girls running up the hill to spare Esme this.

"Carlisle," asked Edward tentatively, "Do you want to stay with her while I bring the car as close as I can so we don't have to be near any people?"

I nodded, feeling more helpless as Edward set off to do the only thing of use. After a moment I sat beside Esme. She had been wordlessly looking off into the distance since she last spoke. I wouldn't have blamed her if she had berated me for putting her in such emotional peril. Instead, she did what I least expected. She buried her head in my shoulder and put her arms around my neck and said, "They were only innocent children, how could I?"

"But you didn't, you didn't." I pleaded as I cupped the back of Esme's head and stroked her hair.

As her body shuddered, and she cried tearless sobs, I heard her whisper, "I'm sorry for disappointing you."

My heart shattered again knowing how dry eyes didn't adequately convey sorrow. She wasn't the only one sobbing. Esme, torn with grief at what had happened, didn't notice she wasn't the only one who wished for real tears.