A/N - I do not own The Twilight Saga or the characters in any way; all rights are reserved to Stephanie Meyer.

No Secrets

Esme's P.O.V.

Everyone has that place where you feel the safest. Whether it is your Mother's arms or your own house, we all have that place. Mine, ironically enough, is in a soldier's arms – someone's arms who are supposed to hurt me instead hold me close to their body, and I can't help but smile every time he pulls me close, because I know that finally, all faith in humanity hasn't been lost.

"Carlisle," I whispered, my voice soft as soft grey light flooded the small bedroom. He stirred but didn't wake and I allowed a smile to pass my lips. He looked so peaceful in sleep – not like the tortured soul I knew he could be.

"Carlisle," I repeated again, my palm resting against his chest. I saw his eyelids flutter until he finally, but groggily, came round. "Sleepy head," I mumbled, stroking his golden hair with my spare hand. He smiled at me, cupping my face with of his hands.

"How long have you been awake?" he asked, his voice hoarse and his hair dishevelled.

Rolling onto my back, I stared at the ceiling and took Carlisle's hand in my own. Last night was utter bliss. I had never felt so scared but so loved at the same time... so perfectly in synch with another person. Never before had I felt I've meant so much to someone else – as if my existence was what Carlisle needed to breathe.

An involuntary laugh bubbled to my lips and Carlisle's smile broadened. "Thank you," I breathed, my cheeks stretched widely with a smile. "I mean, really, thank you. I've never felt like I've belonged and you... you showed me I did," I finished as his hand snaked around my waist.

"I love you," he mumbled into my hair, placing a chaste kiss on my temple left temple. "I feel the same towards you. You've shown me I can still be accepted through the turmoil every man today faces."

I turned my head to see the sun trying to break through the old, second hand curtains and just spent a moment listening to Carlisle's breathing. It was peaceful like this, almost eerie in a way because it was too perfect. I still had to remember that there was a war raging on, still had to remember that not all soldiers were as caring or as compassionate as Carlisle – Especially those who were turning against their own man – those like Charles who had turned his back against those who trusted him.

"What's wrong, Esme?" My thought must have hit a nerve because I'm suddenly breathing harshly and a frown has painted my face. I try to smile so I do not concern him, but it's hard to forget the betrayal of one man who was the reason my family were shot. "Esme?" I try to brush off my concern, but it's too late. The tears come suddenly and I surprise myself as well as Carlisle that I'm suddenly crying. Engulfing me totally in his arms, he presses me into his chest and I snake my arms around his neck, holding on as tightly as I dare to.

"I'm being... stupid," I whispered.

"You're not being stupid, Esme. Something's bothering you. You know you can tell me anything, always." I clutched him tighter and forced myself to breathe with more control, more order. Finally, composed, I pushed myself away from Carlisle's grasp and pushed myself up so that I sat on the edge of our bed. Carlisle's hand found my shoulder, but I brushed it off; standing up, I walked to the arm chair, sat facing the window, to my night gown thrown lazily across the back of it.

Pausing, I wrapped it around me, Carlisle, unknowingly to me, followed me out of bed and only when he placed his hand on my waist and pulled me back into his protective shell of a body. I closed my eyes and leant my head back onto his chest. He kissed the top of my head, and although his gesture was there to comfort me, I felt more lost than before.

"There was someone before you, Carlisle," I finally managed to confess.

I expected some sort of comment, something to know he was hurt, but instead he held me closer and replied, almost concerned with himself. "I should've known," he muttered. "I've replaced someone you used to love."

Shaking my head, I almost chuckled through the irony of our situation. I used to belong to someone who was supposed to be safe, and now I belonged to someone who could mean my immediate death. "I didn't love him," I retorted, the bitterness dripping off every word. "My parents wanted to find me a suitor, and so I nearly married this... man." It was hard to refer to Charles as a man after everything he put me through. "But he tormented me, Carlisle."

Carlisle's breathing had increased and I winced slightly from the memories I had left of Charles and our 'relationship.' "Esme, you don't need to –"

"I want to," I replied. It was there our trust between each other was consolidated. I would trust him with anything and everything I had to give him, including myself and my 'family's' safety. I tilted my head back to see Carlisle nod slightly, however the concern lined his face.

"It was nineteen-thirty-eight when I was first introduced to a man names Charles Evenson," I began, steadily. "He was quite the business man, wealthy and now I think about it, quite the charmer, too. He was also Jewish. My parents thought he was a lovely match for me and by no means of my own, we became partners."

Carlisle sighed and raised a hand up to run it through his hair. "What did he do?" he asked, although I was reluctant in answering.

"He was the charmer on the outside, Carlisle, but in private, well..." I trailed off and caught my breath, wanting so desperately to forget what happened between me and Charles.

"He abused you." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"I deserved it half the time," I defended, the response automatic through the years of excuses I made on Charles' behalf.

"No-one deserves what you went through." I laughed sadistically, throwing my arms up in the air.

"But of course, the persecution of Jews and other non-German people is what I – others like me – deserve." Carlisle bowed his head and I immediately felt guilty for my irrational words. "Carlisle," I began, but I was cut off.

"No, I deserve it, Esme. I deserve it because it's true. I took part in your torment," he replied, his voice low and quiet now.

"No, Charles wasn't your fault." My voice sounded distant to me and it concerned me because I hadn't sounded so numb for a long time, not since Carlisle had made me his. I turned around in his arms and he whispered soft comforts in my ear.

"You can tell me anything, remember that," he said, his love for me clear in every word.

It took a moment, but after much debate, I guessed it would be better to tell him everything about me, especially after being entrusted with his darkest, deepest secrets. I didn't treat him any differently, did I? But if he knew about the baby...

"Carlisle I –" My voice stuck in my throat and one of his hands came up to cup my cheek. I closed my eyes briefly before finding the strength I needed to carry on. No secrets. That was our motto. "Carlisle, many things happened in such a brief time, it was... it was too much to bear."

"You have nothing to be ashamed of," Carlisle reminded me, his voice determined in making me believe his words.

I smiled, but it was weak and rather a response of sadness than anything else. "We never married," I whispered, although my voice broke and I hardly caught the sentence myself, so I repeated myself, stronger this time. "We never married, but I lived with him. We were supposed to get married in the autumn, but obvious problems got in our way."

I looked up to Carlisle and he nodded in understanding of our 'obvious problems.' Taking his hand, I led us both back to the unmade bed, the duvet half over the mattress so it was gathered on the bare wooden floor, the sheets bunched up in various places, clothes from last night still dotted around the bed, not one of us caring about the mess we had made. I sat on the edge of the bed, but Carlisle stood in front of me, the space beside me for his form to join mine not filled.

"We might have as well been married," I confessed, my voice slightly shaky. "He treated me as his property after all. Something he was proud to show off among his group of friends, or at prestigious parties we were invited to through his work."

"What was he, a doctor?" Carlisle questioned, his arms folding across his chest as the morning breeze greeted us with it's cold, unwelcome presence.

"No, a lawyer," I replied. "Not that he was very good at his job, anyway," I continued. "He drank more than he worked, his defendants nearly always lost their cases and he spent his wages in whore houses and on alcohol. My parents didn't believe them when I had told him what he was truly like."

Carlisle sighed and his eyes were brimmed with understanding. "They didn't want to see the position their daughter had been put in to, ignoring it meant it was easier to pretend nothing bad would happen to you."

I sat there, surprised with his words. "Exactly," I countered, "But surely..."

"My mother was the same when my father forced me into this... job," Carlisle revealed, his eyes now sad, almost as if he held the weight of the world on his shoulders. "But I know she'll always be there for me... somehow."

I placed a hand on his arm, my thumb stroking his skin, showing him my support and also acknowledgement of our parallels, but the soft smile I had growing on my lips descended as I realised how many more secrets Carlisle would need to know.

"He hurt me to remind me, to punish me, to show me who was in charge," I icily continued. "At first I fought against him, angry that he thought he had the right to treat his fiancée like he that, but as time wore on and the slaps became punches, the small spats hours of beatings, I learned to stop fighting against him." I dropped my head and clasped my hands together. Carlisle took his place next to me, tenderly placing a hand on my shoulder in which I threw off, because I couldn't bear to be touched by him as my next confession was too big to dismiss.

"What else, Esme?" Carlisle's tone was angry, I fleetingly dared to let my eyes meet his and I could see the fire raging in the back of his blue eyes. I cleared my throat, finding it increasingly difficult to ignore the lump forming there.

"He also" – I coughed again, hating myself in that moment for what I had to tell Carlisle – "He also raped me." Carlisle's arms wrapped protectively around me and a few too many tears fell down my cheeks.

"Esme, why didn't you tell me earlier?"

I breathed out in a rush, clutching his shoulders for an anchor. "Because I thought you'd kill me." But the joke was out of place in such a serious atmosphere.

"Does Anna know? Justyna?" I nodded into his chest and he stroked my hair. "Darling, it wasn't you fault."

I held him tighter, because his words didn't really mean anything to me. "I could've tried to stop him, Carlisle, but I'd lost myself by then," I replied, honestly. "Lost who I used to be completely until –"

"You don't need to tell me anymore, Esme."

But I did because I owed him the truth at least. "No, I do, because there are no secrets," I reminded him.

"No secrets," he agreed after a short, debating pause.

So with a final push, I finished. "A couple of weeks later, I learned I was pregnant." I felt as Carlisle's breath caught suddenly and I pushed myself away from him, my skin crawling with disgust. "I'm so sorry, Carlisle."

His eyes were closed but I could read every emotion flickering across his face, pain, disbelief, and finally, after everything, a discomforting calmness. "Don't be sorry, Esme, none of these things were your fault, it was one's actions conflicted on to you that caused these things to happen."

I was shocked that this hadn't destroyed us. "You don't hate me, Carlisle?"

"Do you hate me, Esme? After all, I've permitted and committed far worse crimes than you have."

"No, Carlisle, your father, I understand, he was the one who forced you into such disgusting actions."

"You see, Esme, it wasn't you then, was it. It was him." He leaned towards me, resting his forehead against mine so our lips were nearly touching, however, he continued with a question. "What happened to the baby?"

I lowered my eye line towards the mattress between us and I answered him. "I suffered a miscarriage."

"Oh, Esme, life has been so cruel to you, so unjust." His words knocked my life's pin on the head and I forgot the grief I had held off for many years.

"But it didn't stop there, Carlisle. Because through everything he had put me through, the final straw was what broke my family apart."

"Esme," Carlisle whispered, his voice as broken as mine. "It hurts to see you so upset."

"But I needed to tell you, and to do so, I need to finish."

"I'm not going anywhere."

I talked emotionlessly, the words as hollow as my heart. "He betrayed us, Carlisle. As soon as the war broke out, he changed drastically, and in nineteen-forty-one, he took his place as an SS soldier. He led the soldiers to my family and he stood there as he killed them! I was lucky I fled when I discovered I was pregnant, and so I avoided being shot by my own fiancée!" The anger bubbled to my lips and I cried in pain and hatred as Carlisle cradled me to him, his slow rocking trying to help me realise I had him left. "You know him, though, don't you?" I accused, quickly. "Because you stood there didn't you, part the firing squad as you lined up my family and shot them!"

Carlisle winced as if my words were a physical slap. "I'm sorry, Esme. I'm so, so sorry."

And although the anger still coursed through me I knew how sincere his apology was. I could hear and feel the ripples of pain as he could with me and so instead of feeling angry, exhaustion replaced the rational feeling that should be anger. I let my arms wrap around his back as I pulled him in and cried for the both of us, because in one way or another, we were both completely broken. The pieced we needed to put us back together hidden within the two of us, but still completely hidden from view.

A/N – UPDATED! It's been so long, but I only have two exams left now and so it will be much quicker in updates after the 15th of June! So sorry for the extremely long waits, especially for Milene Lira who has been waiting ages for this update!

Anyways, Please Review if you enjoyed this chapter! (What did you think of Charles' connection to Esme in this context?)

Thanks, Katie1995 :)