AN: I know, it's been forever! Don't kill me! I've had a lot on my mind. We just took the test the state sends out to see how smart you are. :D ANYWAYS, I'm sure you all don't really care. SOOOO....

This chapter was inspired by the wonderful song, "My Life Would Suck Without You" - Kelly Clarkson

ESMEPOV (Yes, the time has come.)

I bustled around my kitchen hurriedly, trying to pull all of this together before 6 o' clock. It was Thanksgiving day, and I was once again slaving in a hot kitchen, pouring over hot pots and pans. However, unlike other women, I adored it. I planned on serving the traditional turkey, green beans, mashed potatoes, and various other vegetables. I hummed along with the radio playing softly from the corner of the room, and lithely stepped from counter-top to counter-top, taking equal amounts of time to dice, stir, and mash. I pulled the green beans off the stove and set them in a pan; placing them in the low-set oven to keep them warm.

I heard a grunt of pain come from the living room and I heaved a sigh, setting the potatoes to a lower simmer, just in case I would be gone for a bit. I dragged my feet on the way to the living room, fixing my motherly glare firmly on my face.

I peeked cautiously around the corner of the room, spotting my two adoptive sons, rolling around on the floor. I watched for a moment, gathering that they were fighting pointlessly over the remote control to the TV not far off from where they lay. I cleared my throat and Jasper's head whipped up, and he had the decency to look sheepish. Emmett, however, merely grinned at me. I loved my two sons deeply, but sometimes they were just unmanageable. Me and Carlisle had made a split decision in adopting them a few years ago, figuring we needed to act soon if we wanted to care for children. Though having my own children was impossible with my husband Carlisle, due to some medical hub bub, I loved all three of my adoptive children with all my hearts.

As if on cue, my thirteen-year-old daughter Alice stuck her head out of her door down the hall and shouted lightly, "Knock it off, guys! I'm trying to decide what to wear. You all should know by now that this calls for my utmost attention!"

Alice, was my little fashionista. It pained me that we couldn't afford the drown her in the designer clothes she desired, but we just couldn't swing it. She loved everything that has anything at all to do with clothes. Alice had impeccable taste; however, it left the boys a little miffed when she went out of her way to make sure they were 'presentable'.

Jasper was only two years older than Alice, and was miserably smitten with her. Though many people would have frowned upon it, I allowed them to see each other; why crush their hearts? Emmett, however, had a girlfriend from school who I was quite impressed with. Emmett and Rosalie were both 17 and hopelessly in love. Rosalie worked at a small dance studio in the outskirts of Seattle, and Emmett often drove all the way out merely to watch her interact with the small children she teaches. Emmett was my big teddy bear, and loved everyone that let him into their hearts. But, as kind as he was, loyalty was his strong suit. I wouldn't recommend picking on Rosalie, or even Alice for that matter; because it was bound to be bad news.

There was a sudden clang from the knocker on the front door,and I jumped, being pulled out of my thoughts. I motioned for Emmett to fetch the door, happy to solve the fight so simply. I sauntered back into the kitchen, figuring that maybe it was Rose, or one of Alice's friends. I was suprised, however, when Emmett let out a slightly strangled call, "Mom?"

I quickly scurried into the room, sad that I had been once again pulled from my work. I forgot about all my worries and aquired new ones, however, when I saw a large man in an intimidating black suit standing in my doorway.

"Can I help you?" I heard myself ask.

"Are you Esme Cullen?" he retaliated, looking into my eyes.

"Yes."

There was an anonymous silence.

"I need to speak to you."

I noticed the look on Emmett's face. Deceit. He thought I was hiding something from him and his siblings. So, naturally, I said:

"Anything you say to me can be said in front of my family."

"Very well," He agreed easily.

He seemed to be waiting for something, so I raised my eyebrow in question.

"Will you be inviting me in?" He asked formally.

"Certainly," I gestured toward the love seat in the living room. "Emmett, go get your sister and father, and we'll talk to him together."

Emmett gave me a trusting grin and quickly thundered up the stairs, calling into Alice's room on his way up.

Me and the man sat awkwardly across from each other; him on the love seat and me in the armchair on the other side of the room.

Finally, Emmett once again came back down, Carlisle following after him shortly. They seated themselves on the long couch sitting on the west side of the room.

I sighed impatiently, "Where are Alice and Jasper?"

As if they were waiting for those lines, they scampered out of Alice's room, it looked as though Jasper had to exert force to remove Alice from her closet.

Once they were all settled, I turned to the intimidating man, willing him to speak with my eyes.

"Esme Cullen, if you please, I would take you back to...let's say...28 years ago?"

I flinched, I didn't expect it to be about this. I don't want my children to know about the rape. They would see me differently.

Carlisle, being the only one here that was in the know, spoke up, "Why are you here?"

I noticed the way the children flinched at the venom in his voice, he very rarely spoke this way.

"Carlisle," I warned him softly.

I saw a flash of shame creep through his eyes, after he realized he had spoke in such a way in front of the children. He so easily faulted himself.

"May I go on?" The man asked, obviously irritated.

"Yes." I whispered.

"Yes, you recall?" He pressed.

"Yes!" I snapped.

The room went eerily silent until the man cleared his throat, then I noticed the plaque on the briefcase he was carrying. Garret E. Lawson.

Good, so he has a name.

"Good then. So you remember giving birth to your son, Edward?"

All three of my childrens' heads snapped up; staring at me incredulously.

"Yes." I flinched, and saw Carlisle tense. Ready to throw this man from our house if he caused any more pain.

The man simply nodded his head, and brought the briefcase into this lap, clicking the clasps open and pulling out what looked to be a photo.

He shielded it from the others, making sure I was the first to see it. I timidly took it from his hands, but when I looked at the picture, I started to hyperventilate. He looked like...like...him. But then I saw his face, the subtle line of his jaw, the curve of his eyebrows, and even the shape of his nose. He was mine.

I held out my hand in a stopping motion, knowing Carlisle was about to rush over to me.

"He's so beautiful," I sighed, touching the picture lightly.

I heard a small gasp, and looked over to my daughter Alice. I had almost forgotten they were here.

"You have a son?" she asked.

I nodded slowly, and turned to her with apologetic eyes. I knew that Alice took pride in the fact that I told her absolutely everything.

Except this, the voice in the back of my mind argued. I told it to shut it's dirty mouth.

"Your mother has a good reason for not telling you."

To my utter surprise, these words were not uttered by my husband, but by the man sitting across from me.

He asked my silently if I would allow him to tell the story. I contemplated this, and reluctantly nodded my head. He could most likely explain it better than I could. He most likely had all the information he needed in that brief case of his.

He launched into a story of rape, court trails, drug tests, and finally pregnancy. By the time he was done, Emmett and Jasper looked ashamed of their own kind, and Alice had her hand over her mouth and was muttering:

"Oh, mama."

They stayed silent for a few moments, until the silence became awkward. So I asked,

"Why are you here now? I mean, why are you coming and reminding me now?" my throat was tightening, threatening to let out a sob.

"I, Mrs. Cullen, am your son's lawyer." he spoke calmly, while I started to panic.

"We don't really have anything to offer..." I trailed off, looking into the eyes of this man, pleading him to see my side.

This, for some reason, amused him greatly. He chuckled quietly, and my face flushed with embarrassment.

This seemed to sober him.

"You think your son wants money from you?" He asked softly, and I refused to look him in the eyes, "I'm quite glad to inform that your son could most likely afford a whole 24 hours of super bowl air time and still have enough money left over to pay his taxes."

My head swiveled to look at him, disbelieving.

"The only thing he wants from you, , is a grandmother for his child."