As much as Rosalie loved shopping with Alice, she was having a hard time standing in the store. And not just this store, any store at all.
She loved the clothes, the shoes, and the thrill of finding the perfect outfit to wear. She liked being able to feel special when she picked out new clothes, and she loved picking out clothes she thought Emmett would like on her, which to be honest, would be about anything. But there was always a shadow over it, a dark cloud that was threatening to burst into a storm.
First, and foremost, it was the babies and children. They clung to their mothers and fathers, they screamed and fought, they slept in tiny strollers, completely oblivious to what they were doing to Rosalie's insides. As every little face passed by, her heart tore a little more, a new scar opened up on it each time a crying little baby rolled past her in a shopping cart.
She wanted to cry, but no tears would come out, even that had been taken away from her. She couldn't have children, not with Emmett, or anyone else. She would never know either the joys or pains that came with being a mother; her new life wouldn't let her.
Next, were the elderly couples. Supported on wheelchairs, walkers, and each other, they would shuffle through the store, as ever in love as they always had been, with just a few wrinkles thrown in. The older men would be hunched over, with their bony hands, coated with liver spots, wrapped around the cart handles. And their wives, with there fraying white hair, glasses, and dresses, would be next to them with one hand on a cane and one on her husbands arm.
Every time Rosalie looked at them, they would smile, showing their fake teeth, and deepening the wrinkles around their faces, and every time, she would look away as fast as she could. A little tug, deep in the pit of her stomach made her long for old age. It made her want to grow old, to live through it all and raise a family with her husband.
She could picture her and Emmett sitting on their front porch, their children, and their children's children in the front yard while she and Emmett held each others old wrinkly hands and smiled at what they had created. But it could never happen.
Every time she looked at herself, with her perfectly preserved youth, and beauty she cursed a little to herself, knowing she would always look that way. No wrinkles would ever mar her pale skin, and no liver spots would ever darken it. Her hair would never gray, and she would always have her teeth. Her fangs.
But the worst part was that Alice didn't even seem to notice. She didn't pay attention to the screaming babies, and she smiled back at the old couples, but she didn't seem offended by them at all. It was clear she had accepted the fact that she could never have those things and had settled for this life instead. So why couldn't Rosalie?
Why couldn't she be perfectly happy with Emmett like Alice was with Jasper? She didn't know, and it killed her.
Maybe she had too much hate built up. Hate at Royce, hate at this new life, but most of all, hate at Carlisle, her new "father". He had damned her to this misery, and se hated him for it.
As Rosalie watched Alice throw clothes in and out of the cart, she knew in her heart she would never forgive him, no matter what.
(A/N) I know the ending is weird; it's kind of a wrap around, underlying meaning thing. Sorry if you're confused. Poor Rosalie, that's all I'm saying.
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