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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄

January 18th, 1922

    𝑨𝑳𝑬𝑿𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑭𝑳𝑶𝑹𝑬𝑺 𝑹𝑨𝑵 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑳𝑳𝒀 through the estate, his heart racing as he made a beeline for the bedroom at the very end of the hall. He was drenched in sweat from running, making him regret the turtleneck sweater he was wearing. Once he was in front of the room, he didn't even bother to knock, just stormed inside with a panicked look on his face.

    Mrs. Wellsby stood over the bed, patting a wet washcloth over the little girl's forehead who coughed and whined in pain. When his blue eyes met her identical ones, he sighed in relief in seeing she was alright, but frowned as he made his way over towards the small, twin sized bed. "Bree, sweetie, what's the matter?"

    Six year old Bridget Flores looked up at her older brother, her eyes filled with pain and tears. "I don't feel good, Alex."

    "Is it your tummy?" Alex asked, causing the little girl to nod. "Does your head hurt?" Another soft nod. Alex placed his hand over her forehead and frowned at how much she was burning up. "Yeah, you are burning up, all right. What's her temperature?"

    "A hundred and ten." Mrs. Wellsby answered. 

    "Has the doctor been notified?" Alex asked Bridget's Nanny, the older woman shook her head.

    "I'm afraid not, Mister Alexander."

    Alex straightened immediately. "Why the hell not?"

    Mrs. Wellsby motioned for him to follow her and Alex pressed a kiss to Bridget's forehead and promised he will be right back. Once they stepped out in the hall, Mrs. Wellsby crossed her arms over her chest. "I have informed your father that Miss Bridget has fallen ill, but he has refused to waste the doctor's time."

    "What?" Alex snapped, not believing what he was hearing.

     "He claims she is overreacting. That it is a twenty-four hour bug and that it will pass in time."

     Alex has never been more angry than he was at this very moment. Out of all the horrible things his father has done, this has got to be a despicable new low.

    Running a hand over his face stressfully, Alex took a moment to collect himself before turning back to Mrs. Wellsby. "Go call the doctor, please, Mrs. Wellsby."

    "But your father-"

    "I will deal with my father." Alex spat, venom lacing his every word. "Please. Go. Now."

    Mrs. Wellsby bowed her head and immediately ran out to get the doctor as Alex stormed towards the direction of his father's office, not even bothering to knock as he stormed into the room. The older man was sitting by his pretty fireplace, reading the damn newspaper. William Flores didn't need to look up to know who it was, just licking his fingers before turning the next page. "Well this should be good."

    "You refused to get a doctor for Bridget?"

    "Please, do come in, son." William muttered, not bothering to look up. "Help yourself to a refreshment."

    Alex was now in front of him, his eyes flashing with pure rage. "She is six years old, for the love of god! Her temperature is through the roof and Mrs. Wellsby says she can barely walk without feeling faint."

    "All the common symptoms of a flu, Alexander."

    "Do you know how many people die from just the common flu? Especially children?"

    William flipped through the page and breathed through his nose. "Don't be so dramatic, Alexander. She's fine. I had it two weeks ago."

    "And who did you call immediately? That's right, a damn doctor."

    "And I was perfectly fine, which is how I know that we don't need to waste the doctor's time."

    Alex had enough and snatched the newspaper from his grasp before throwing it in the fire. William raised his brows dramatically at his son. "I was reading that."

    "Mrs. Wellsby is calling the doctor as we speak. When he gets here, you are going to pay him generously for doing anything he can to help Bridget get better-"

    "Excuse me?" William snapped, pushing himself out of his Victorian armchair and took a couple threatening steps towards his son, taller than him by two inches. "Who the hell do you think you are ordering me about in my own home?"

    "I think I'm the son of a selfish, stubborn prick who also happens to be the owner of one of the most well respected and richest companies in the country so I know you can afford it. I am also the only shot you have to keep said company in the Flores name, because without me, your life's work is meaningless."

    William narrowed his eyes on his son. "Are you threatening me, boy?"

    "Threatening? No. No. Of course not, father. I wouldn't dream of it. I am simply telling you that if you stand in my way and if you continue to treat Bridget like she isn't a member of this family just because you have it in your sick, twisted brain that she is responsible for mother's death, I will burn everything you have built to the ground. I will expose this family loving facade for the fraud it really is and I will make it my life's mission to ruin yours."

    The two Flores' men stared at one another challengingly. The only sound that could be heard was the crackling of the fireplace. Alex doesn't remember the exact moment he realized he hates the man standing before him with a burning passion, but it definitely happened in the past six years, some time after Bridget was born.

    The way he neglected the girl, chastised her or would degrade her from the moment he laid eyes on her. He never even held her when she was a baby. Bridget always did things to try to gain his favor and his love, but they were always futile. In his twisted mind, she is the reason the love of his life is dead. He hates her for it and after seeing the way his once loving father turned into a miserable old and hateful bastard, Alex formed his own kind of hate towards him.

    Suddenly, a wicked, unsettling smirk spread to the older Flores' face, making Alex feel completely uncomfortable and confused. When William raised his hand, Alex thought he was going to strike him, ready to defend himself against this tyrant, but that was completely thrown out of the window when his hand patted him on the shoulder and chuckled softly.

    "Oh, my son. You have a long way to go in this world if you believe a pathetic threat like that will intimidate me. You want to ruin my life? Get in line, boy. How do you think I became so rich and successful? I lied, manipulated and schemed my way to the top. Your threats are empty to me." William moves away and towards his bourbon, pouring himself a glass. Alex remained there, glaring harshly at him, fuming with rage. "I admire your passion though. Go, call upon the doctor for a silly flu for the child. Pay him what you must. It's clear your sister means something to you and if keeping her around is what it takes to earn your cooperation, I'm a flexible man."

    Alex couldn't believe his words, scoffing in disbelief. "How can you be so heartless? She is your daughter."

    "Unfortunately so."

    "Mother would be ashamed of you."

    "Yes, well, your mother chose that child's life over her own. She chose to leave me. I told her if she did so, I would never love that child. Just like your promise to her that you will always protect that child, I'm keeping my promises as well."

    Before Alex could say anything, one of the housekeepers knocked on the door and came in. "Pardon my interruption, sir, but Miss Bridget is asking for you, Mister Alexander."

    Still glaring at his father who lifted his glass cockingly, Alex stormed out of the office and back towards his little sister's bedroom, doing his best to compose himself before entering the room, all while trying to come up with a plan to destroy that man who he regretfully is forced to call his father.

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    𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 bird chirping slowly drawled the beautiful blonde out of her deep slumber, as way the cold breeze that hit her face, sending a chill to go down her spine as she brought the covers back up to her chest, groaning from the cold.

    Bridget has never slept with the window open before. She hates how cold Forks gets at night, and relies on the ceiling fan above bed to keep the room cool and at a good temperature. However, the chirping became irritating and Bridget found herself slowly opening her eyes, only for a rush of pain to hit her forehead and eyes. It was like someone was taking a mallet to her brain repeatedly.

    All she wanted was to slip back into a deep slumber, her mind racing as she tries to figure out why she feels so unbelievably horrible. That is when golden yellow eyes suddenly flashed in her mind as well as the vicious, monstrous look on Jasper's face flashed in her mind, causing the blonde to jump up and gasp in fright as memories of last night suddenly start to come back to her.

    Bella's birthday party. Candles, music, dresses. Presents. Blood. Chaos. Anything that happened afterwards is a major blur. After Jasper nearly tried to kill Bella, after witnessing something so horrific, Bridget ran out of the house with a bottle of scotch and made a beeline towards the beach. Everything was so blurry after that. She doesn't even remember how she got home.

    That is until she looked around and realized she wasn't in her bedroom. That the covers she was gripping onto were not her white comfortable with blue and green flowers, but were dark red and black. When she looked up, she noticed a wooden dresser that definitely was not hers and when she looked up, she did not see her ceiling fan hanging above.

    Slowly getting up, the littlest of movement made her head scream in agony, the room spinning for a moment before she rubbed her eyes and blinked a couple times until everything came into focus. She was definitely not in her room at the Cullen's house and suddenly she began to panic. The last time she woke up in a stranger's house after drinking so heavily, there was another body laying next to her and both were minus clothes. Realizing she was alone and clothed, she felt herself sighing in relief, however she needed to do a double take at what she was wearing.

    She was currently wearing a large black t-shirt that was way too big for her frame as well as a pair of gray sweatpants. Completely panicking, she tried to figure out where she was, immediately getting to her feet but halting, her hand shooting to cover her mouth as she felt herself getting sick. Taking a second, she was able to hold back on puking before slowly making her way towards the window, trying to figure out where she was, but all she saw was a large lawn and woods.

    Sighing, Bridget moved towards the door cautiously and rested her head against the door, trying to see if she could hear anything. What if she was taken and is being held hostage? She didn't know and she was panicking. But when she didn't hear anything, Bridget opened the door and looked out into the empty hall. It wasn't that big. There was a room across from her that looked to be the bathroom and a room at the very end of the hall that was closed shut. After a moment, peeking into the bathroom that was small, she was suddenly hit with familiarity.

    She's been here before. But her brain was going too slow to really keep up quickly so she couldn't remember when she was here or where here was. Hearing voices towards the other end, Bridget slowly made her way down the hall, before everything became more similar as he walked into the living room. Oh, yeah, she's definitely been here before.

    "You're awake." A voice spoke from behind her and Bridget twirled around, placing a hand on her heart from surprise. Coming face to face with Emily was like a huge relief lifted off her chest and her worries suddenly diminished, finally understanding why this place looked so familiar.

    "Emily," Bridget said, confusion never leaving her face. "Hi."

    "Hi," Emily chuckled with a kind smile. "How are you feeling?"

    "Like someone keeps squeezing my brain trying to make brain juice," Bridget muttered, moving towards the kitchen, only to reveal Sam sitting at the table, looking at her with an amused grin.

    "Morning sunshine."

    So confused, Bridget was still trying to wrap her brain around what happened last night after she left the Cullen's, but it was useless. Looking between the couple, Bridget moved toward the table and put her hands on one of the chairs. "Hi uh... what happened? How did I get here?"

    "You don't remember?" Sam questioned, curiously. The blonde shook her hand and he put down his coffee cup, before motioning for her to sit. Bridget didn't argue, just pulled out the chair and basically slumped into the seat just as Emilly brought over a water bottle and two Aspirins. The blonde thanked the woman and took them, drinking the water slowly, not realizing how dry her throat really was.

    Finally, Sam spoke. "Paul found you on the beach last night, soaking wet and freezing. You were drunk and delirious, so he brought you back here. You were in and out of consciousness, basically you were only awake to help Emily as she put you into dry and comfortable clothes before you passed out in our guest room."

    Bridget blinked at the male before her, taking in his words. Paul found her last night? She tried to remember, but it was so hazy. She remembers the beach. She remembers drinking the scotch. She remembers the waves crashing against the rocks violently and she remembers crying, still so scared and wishing to be with Alex...

    Sam just said she was soaking wet when Paul found her. That is when she was hit with the memory. About going out into the freezing water, unable to fight anymore. She had given up. She had a moment where she just couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't live on without Alex any longer. All she wanted to do was see him, no matter if she broke her promise to him in order to do so.

    Promise me, Bree. Promise me.

    Bridget was ready to break her promise last night. She was so sad and scared and depressed, she just wanted to see Alex again. She wanted to see him so he could tell her everything will be okay. That she can get through this. That she is so much stronger than she gives herself credit for. She just wanted to see him. That is why she went out into those waves and when she went under, she was ready to let everything go. Her will to live...

    Bridget doesn't really understand what had come over her, but suddenly when she was under that, slowly becoming hard to hold her breath, she felt herself being pulled out. It wasn't anything physical pulling her out, but it was like a tug inside of her chest, pulling her out of the water, telling her not to give up just yet. Like something was going to happen and she needed to be alive in order for it to happen. She gasped when she broke through the surface and sucked in a sharp breath, before forcing herself out of the water and back onto the sand. Where she broke into another fit of sobs.

    She thinks she remembers Paul. She remembers his concerned expression, but she was so tired and drunk and confused, she barely remembers what happened after that.

    Looking up, she was met by two worried expressions, Emily having taken a seat in front of her. Finally, Bridget nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think I might remember that. It's all so hazy, though."

    "You were pretty wasted." Emily told her softly.

    Bridget pinched the bridge of her nose. "Yeah. Drinking an entire bottle of scotch was a terrible idea. Don't recommend it."

    The couple gave each other concerned glances before Emily sighed. "Bridget, did something happen last night? Paul said you were really upset last night."

    Bridget pushed back the memory of Jasper attacking Bella and kept her face neutral, trying not to give anything away. "No. No, I just, I just got bored and got carried away. I don't usually drink."

    "We saw the bruise on your wrist." Sam told her, motioning to her right arm that was on display, fingers intertwined together and elbows resting on the kitchen table.

    The blonde put her hand down and blinked at Sam, before looking down at both her wrist, only to see a pretty nasty bruise that was in the shape of someone grabbing her. It was a result of Rosalie gripping her so tightly last night, trying to keep her back but unaware how badly she was hurting the girl when she inhaled Bella's blood.

   Bridget rubbed her hand over the black and blue bruise and tried not to wince as pain shot through her. "Oh... uh, this... this was nothing. I um... I fell down the stairs and tried to catch myself but failed. Fell into one of those cabinet tables"

    Both Sam and Emily gave her incredulous look, both knowing it was a lie. "Bridget," Emily gained the blonde's attention. "If something's wrong, you can tell us."

    Bridget frowned at the woman across from her. "What do you mean?"

    "That bruise looks like it was inflicted by someone. Like someone grabbed you and wouldn't let go."

     Sam clenched his jaw tightly. "Did someone hurt you? Are you being threatened?"

    "Do you feel like you can't ask for help?" Emily added in, trying to be more calmer than her fiance who was not happy at the moment.

    Bridget found herself getting extremely uncomfortable and nervous. They are not wrong. It was clear that someone gave her this bruise, but she can't exactly tell them the truth. How can she tell them that her vampire friend was unknowingly holding onto her so tightly because she was trying to control her own bloodthirsty instincts? It was an accident... Bridget knows it was an accident and she knows Rosalie wasn't even aware that she had harmed her so badly, but if she did, Rosalie will most likely hate herself even more and put distance between them, which is the last thing she wanted.

    Jasper? She wouldn't mind so much. She actually wishes she never had to face him again, because she doesn't know if she can ever look at him the same way again... but Rosalie is different. Rosalie is her friend. Rosalie is the only one who understands what it's like to be forced to live a life you never wanted.

    So she knew she couldn't come forward. She couldn't tell them the truth, even if it was an accident. It would only raise more questions that she just simply could not answer and they'd never understand. "That's ridiculous, it was just an accident. I fell into the table and it's just a weird bruise because of how it landed. That's all. Nothing to worry about."

    "Are you sure?" Emily asked, giving her a look like she doesn't believe her. Neither does Sam, who looks really frustrated that she was not telling them the truth but Bridget can't focus on that right now and runs a hand through her tangled, messy hair.

    "Yes, guys. Thank you for the concern and for letting me stay here. Um, but I think I need to get back to the house. Um, do you know where my phone is?" Bridget asked the two, realizing she must have had a bunch of missed calls from the Cullens. She remembers leaving her phone in her bag which was in her car and- her car! "Oh, my god, my car. It must still be at the beach."

    "Actually it's out front." Sam informs the girl, leaning back in his seat, still not looking too happy. Bridget frowned and went to look out the window, and low and behold, there was her crappy station wagon in all its rusty glory. She turned back to Sam, eyebrows furrowed together but he just sipped his coffee once more before explaining. "Paul drove both of you here in it. He knew you'd need it this morning."

    Bridget couldn't explain the warm feeling she felt suddenly at the explanation. Bridget tries to remember more of what happened, but she remembers being weightless in the arm, cuddled into something really warm before she was sat down. That must have been Paul carrying her to her car. Why was he so kind last night? She thought he hated her.

    Snapping out of her wandering thoughts, Bridget turned back to the couple and hugged herself from the cold. "Uh... is Paul here? I just want to thank him before I go."

    For some unknown reason Bridget couldn't understand, Sam smirked knowingly before nodding his head. "Yeah, he's in the shed. He normally has music blaring, so just go right in, he won't hear the knock."

    Nodding her head, Emily got up and offered to show her where she put her things. Emily tried to explain that she wanted to wash the dress but refrained, realizing the material is not something that should be machined washed and knew because of the salt water, it would have most likely destroyed it. It was in a plastic bag, because it was still damp and sandy, and she only had one of her silver pumps, Paul claiming only to find one and did not want to waste time looking for the other one.

    Emily convinced Bridget to keep the clothes she was wearing, claiming she doesn't wear the sweatpants anymore and the shirt wasn't even hers, but it was Paul's. Not sure why they had given her Paul's first, Bridget didn't really have the energy to argue and went out towards her station wagon, putting her things inside. She checked her phone, seeing how she had multiple missed calls from Carlisle, Esme and Rosalie.

    Not bothering to call back, thinking she will just have this conversation with them when she returns to the house, she looked over towards the shed that was next to the house. It was a bit bigger than any regular shed she was used to seeing but started making her way towards it. She noticed a pretty large generator running outside. Just like Sam claimed, she could hear music blaring and Bridget couldn't help but chuckle at Led Zeppelin's 'Stairway to Heaven'. She remembers meeting Robert Plant in 1989 in New Orleans. He came into the restaurant she was working at. He was a nice guy and a generous tipper.

    Remembering Sam telling her not to bother knocking, Bridget opened the door and instead of a common tool shed, she walked into someone's bedroom. A cot was laid out in the corner as well as a small dresser. There was a desk there as well, filled with textbooks and papers and a carpet. There was electricity in there, so a heater was on and a picture frame of a little boy who looked a lot like Paul and a very pretty woman holding him closely, both smiling widely into the camera.

    She saw Paul sitting at the desk, textbooks out, like he was studying. Slowly making her way towards him, he seemed to have sensed her presence because he turned before she could tap his shoulder, looking a bit startled to see her but shook his head and got up, going towards the radio on the shelf and turning it off. Bridget went into immediate defense mode. "I'm sorry. Sam told me not to knock because of the music."

    Paul nodded awkwardly. "Yeah, no, it's fine. Playing the music loudly helps drown out everything else and makes it easier for me to concentrate on school work."

    "Understandable. I do the same thing with pretty much everything, actually, but that might be just because I love music so much." Bridget rambled, not really sure exactly why she just told him that but shook her head. "Uh, I actually came to thank you. Sam and Emily told me you found me at the beach last night. To be honest, I don't remember most of what happened last night. I was really drunk and vulnerable and you were kind. So, thank you, Paul."

    "It was no trouble. Couldn't exactly leave you out there to freeze." Paul said, crossing his arms over his chest. This was definitely awkward, especially when silence fell upon them.

    "I appreciate that. I don't normally drink like that. I was just bored and I had a lot on my mind. I guess I just needed to escape." It wasn't a full lie, but still wasn't the truth. When will these lies get easier?

    "You don't need to explain yourself to me," Paul told her in a non-judgmental tone.

    After a couple seconds, Bridget pointed behind her. "Well, thanks again but I should probably go now. Um, so... I'll see you in school?"

    Paul only nodded stiffly and before Bridget could slip out, the dark haired boy called her back. "Wait-" Bridget paused, turning to face him curiously. Paul sighed, looking uncomfortable as he fumbled for the right words, shifting on his feet. After another brief moment to gather his thoughts, he looked back at her. "I need to apologize to you for how I've been acting around you. And for jumping down your throat at Emily's party. You didn't deserve it and I'd like to say I had a valid reason, but I really didn't. It was just me being dick. So... I'm-I'm sorry."

    Bridget raised her brows at his apology and couldn't stop the corners of her lips tugging upwards. "Wow, that looked very painful for you to get out. You don't apologize often, do you?"

    Paul clenched his jaw before shaking his head. Bridget nodded in understanding and smiled graciously  at him. "Well, apology accepted."

    "Can I ask you something before you go? You don't have to answer it if you don't want to." Paul boldly requested. Bridget straightened her stance, before nodding her head softly for him to continue. "You said living with them wasn't a great choice but a choice you made. Does that mean if you had a choice to live somewhere else, somewhere that wasn't with them... would you?"

    To say Bridget was taken back was an understatement, blinking up at him as she thought over his question. He's talking about staying with the Cullens. Why does it bother him so much? Not just him, but Sam too. Hell, she saw the reactions at Emily's party when she revealed that she lives with them. Why did they dislike them so much? Do they know about the Cullens? About what they are?

    No. No, they can't. That wouldn't make any sense if they did. But clearly they must get bad vibes from them, which she understands. A lot of people do when they are not admiring them.

    Bridget opened her mouth, ready to tell him the truth. Yes. Yes, she would love to live in a place where she doesn't have to hide in her room or avoid returning home at some times or avoid going into different rooms because she didn't want to be near any of them, mostly Jasper. Where her thoughts would be left to herself without Edwards' prying or she can make decisions without Alice knowing what she decided in advance and either argue or tease her about it.

    But she couldn't say yes, because that's not the truth. The rest of it was, but a part of her doesn't know if she could handle being on her own again. She was on her own for ten years after Alex died. She may be scared of them, but she was more scared of being alone than she was of living with vampires. At least, she used to be. Now, after seeing what they are capable of, after seeing Jasper's animalistic behavior last night, she knew whatever delusional reality she was living in for eight years was now broken, because she doesn't know if she will ever feel safe sleeping under the same roof after witnessing that, especially since she is the only who who actually sleeps.

    Looking back up at Paul, who was patiently waiting for her answer, Bridget pressed her lips into a thin line before finally being able to respond. "Honestly Paul... I don't think I can answer that."

    "Because it's none of my business?" Paul questioned, trying not to sound angry.

    Bridget shook her head, never taking her eyes off of him. "No. Because I honestly don't know."

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    𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 the door in the garage, she expected to be bombarded by Rosalie or Esme, but she was surprised when no one approached her. She was kind of happy about it and as she walked down the hall, she was confused when climbed up the stairs, only to see white sheets covering most of the furniture as well as a few boxes.

    Understanding what this met immediately, she immediately started searching the house for the Cullens, the idea of ignoring them was tossed out the window. She knew it. They were leaving. Jasper lost control and now Edward must have finally come to realization of just how dangerous and idiotic his relationship with Bella truly is and they were going to leave Forks.

    Bridget felt herself get sick, and she is almost positive it was not from the hangover. The idea of leaving Forks is sending her into a frenzy and she can't exactly understand why. Out of all the cities and towns she has lived in, she knew she could never get attached to any of them, never knowing when she would have to leave. And she never did. Until now. She unknowingly allowed herself to get attached to this town. The thought of leaving crushed her heart more than anything.

    "Bridget," the sound of Carlisle's voice caused the girl to twirl around to face him. He was giving her a solemn look, standing just outside his office. He motions his head to come inside and Bridget follows, surprised to see all this work files and books packed up. "We've been calling you. Are you alright? We were worried."

    "I'm sorry for worrying you," Bridget mumbles, taking a seat at one of his chairs which he leaned back against the desk, arms and legs crossed. "Last night was pretty bad. I went out, and I had a lot to drink. Someone from school found me on the beach and let me crash at their place because I couldn't drive."

    Carlisle nods in understanding, skeptically looking her over. "I'm glad you are safe, Bridget. I know what happened last night was... unpleasant for you to witness. Jasper feels horrible. Not just for nearly hurting Bella but for scaring you so terribly."

     Bridget opened her mouth to say it was okay, that Jasper shouldn't feel bad, but she couldn't get the words out. She knows Jasper must be beating himself up. Sixty years of learning control, only to break from a simple paper cut. It must be awful and he must really hate himself for it. But All Bridget could see was the monster he became, like a rabid animal going for the kill. She didn't want to be afraid of Jasper, but she can't help the fact that she was. She was scared of him. She was scared of what their kind is capable of.

    So, instead of lying and saying it was okay, she got to the matter at hand. "We're leaving Forks." It was more of a statement than a question.

    "Yes," Carlisle sighed. "It's not ideal. But Edward believes leaving will keep Bella safe and out of our world. We leave tomorrow."

    "Where to?"

    "Ithaca, New York."

    Bridget nodded absentmindedly. "Always wanted to visit New York."

    Carlisle could see the mental battle she was going through. He knew how hard she was struggling. Any other time, moving wouldn't have mattered to the girl. Despite his warnings, he knew Bridget didn't truly understand just how risky it was having her stay with them. When he saw her again in 1997, still the same young and beautiful girl she was when he first met her in 1934, to say he was beyond stunned would be an understatement. He has never met anyone like her in all the centuries he's been alive.

   She was human... but she was immortal? How can that be? How can she not be aging? How can everything in her basically be frozen in time. It didn't make any sense. It was unexplainable. Carlisle knew he wanted to help her, knowing that being alone must be terrible. When he offered her to join him and his family, he saw the hope that flashed through her eyes, even though she was still uncertain and frightened after learning what they were.

    She just didn't want to be alone.

    "Bridget," Carlisle gained her attention again. "When I asked you to stay with us, I knew the risks and I made sure to tell you about them. But for a good eight long years, you have managed to live with us without any incident, so it was easy to get used to a certain routine and to pretend like everything was normal. No matter how hard we try to coexist with humans, we know we will never be like them. Now I know you joined us because you couldn't take being alone anymore, despite how uncomfortable you are in our presence. I am not judging you, your feelings are perfectly valid and I will never dismiss them. So, even though you will always be welcome in our home and with this family, I must ask you, do you still feel safe enough to stay with us?"

    Bridget blinked up at her friend. That is who Carlisle is. His kind and passionate words are the reason the blonde always feels like crap whenever she thinks badly about them. He was just so good and he always had the right thing to say at the right moment. He was a peaceful man, never wanting conflict. He wanted to find solutions instead violence. Bridget always admired him for it, for starting this family. For trying to be good and going against their true nature.

    But now Bridget needed to make a huge decision. She looked down at her bruised wrist and she thought about leaving Forks, how the thought simply made her want to scream in frustration. She knows she can't stay here forever, but she has another six years, maybe seven before people really start to grow suspicious.

    If she was being honest with herself, she didn't want to leave Forks. She finally was comfortable at La Push High, though going to school was still tedious given how many times she has graduated high school, she didn't mind it at times. She loved First Beach, despite the horrible weather conditions, she has grown very attached to the place. She has a decent job in Port Angeles. And going against everything she has told herself not to do, she thinks she made a couple friends. Sam. Emily. Briar.

    Paul immediately came to her, but she didn't understand it. They weren't friends, so she didn't understand why he was among the list of people she didn't want to say goodbye to. His question from earlier echoed in her brain.

    "You said living with them wasn't a great choice but a choice you made. Does that mean if you had a choice to live somewhere else, somewhere that wasn't with them... would you?"

    She couldn't answer him because she truly didn't know. Now... now she knew the answer.

    Looking back up at Carlisle, he seemed to know the answer before she even made her decision. "You will be more than welcome to stay here until you find a place on your own. You are even more than welcome to stay here until you decide to leave Forks for good. Completely up to you."

    "I can't do that, Carlisle-"

    The blonde male held his hand up, cutting her off. "You can and you will. You will always have a place with us, Bridget. You are a stubborn girl, but you are a dear friend to me and this family. Let us help you."

    Bridget got up from her chair, nodded her head softly. "I don't know why, but something is telling me I can't leave here just yet. Maybe in a couple years, I can meet up with you all again?"

    "You are always welcome with us." Carlisle assured the girl.

    Before the girl could leave, not believing she was going to have to say goodbye to people she has spent the last eight years with, unsure when she will see them again, Bridget held out her hand towards the man, who shook his firmly. "Thank you, Carlisle. For everything you have done for me and more."

    Carlisle nodded. "You will be severely missed."

    Bridget couldn't exactly understand the feeling she was feeling when she left the office, knowing where she needed to go next. It was a mixture of sadness, a little bit of regret, but also, some relief was in there as well.

    When she entered the living room, she was met with none other than Rosalie, who was waiting for her, having heard the entire conversation. The two blondes stood across the room, staring at one another. Rosalie's expression was unreadable and Bridget was filled with pain. After only a few seconds of just staring at one another, the two crossed the room at the same time and embraced. Bridget did her best to keep her tears at bay, knowing that by staying with her, she was going to have to say goodbye to someone she had grown very attached to.

    "I understand." Is all Rosalie had to say in order to make the tears fall down and hold onto her tighter.

    And through each goodbye, all Bridget kept thinking was- was she doing the right thing?

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Yes!!! I am back and I am so happy! So sorry for the random hiatus, I tend to do that sometimes and I hate it cause I just lose inspiration but then will gain it back randomly!

Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! You got to see more of the famous Alex who we all love and adore! I swear that man... he is my everything! Part of me wishes he was still alive, but then that wouldn't work with the story or Bridget's journey *cries*

Don't be a silent reader! Love ya guys!