I forgot the disclaimer! I don't Own Twilight or the song used for the inspiration of this fic.

Twilight Characters - SM

The Good Stuff - Kenny Chesney (I think)

"You are such a coward! You can't talk to me without throwing it back in my face!" Fuming, absolutely fuming! With the look I was giving him it could make hell melt. Many people said I could bury a full grown man with one look. I'm sure if they saw me now; they'd be running for their lives, if looks could kill he would be dead, buried, and at least 12 feet under, if not already in hell. I looked around the apartment for anything within my reach to chunk at his head. Of course me being so uncoordinated, I stumbled and almost hit the coffee table.

"I'm going for a damn run, don't wait up!" He stormed towards the front door yanking it open, slamming it behind him, just as I threw the only object I could find at him, the picture of us, Eskimo kissing. It shattered instantly, the frame falling into four pieces and the glass into a million tiny splinters. Simultaneously as the door slammed and the glass shattered so did I. My anger fading away into sadness and I slipped down on to the living room floor. The once warm apartment suddenly seemed very cold and extremely empty. I cried.

I wasn't lying when I said I was going from a run. I'd snagged my car keys from the side table as I stormed out, it was our first big fight and the anger I felt I knew I could drown out at a bar. But I didn't make to the bar until all my energy was sapped from my run, I didn't remember where I went, all I knew was when I was done, I ended up back in the apartment garage, starting my car, and speeding off downtown. The music playing on the radio only seemed to do one of two things: either anger me or depress me. I just drove till I found a little bar tucked away from the tourist streets. It seemed like the right thing so I pulled in. I shrugged on my leather jacket; the weather was slightly chillier than normal for a fall night. I walked in and found it dead empty except for an old bartender, which was fine with me, I didn't want get drunk and end up doing something I regretted, I was still pissed off as hell but not to that drastic point. No. I was not adulterer. I sat down on one of the old bar stools, and took in the old bar. The musty smell, and feel, I felt like I was back in a western salon but I was pulled out of my thoughts as the bartender walked up asking

"What'll it be?" I sighed and said,

"The good stuff," Laying a large bill on the bar, I thought he would pull something down from the top shelf, but he didn't. He didn't pour me a whiskey, or even a beer. I was taken back when his blue eyes shimmered in the dim light of the neon lights.

"Sorry, son, you can't find that here." I was about to speak to ask for anything, a bottle of water, anything to wet my throat; but he began to speak.

"The good stuff, you know son, there are a lot of things that are the 'good stuff' a bottle of whiskey, a good cold beer, a shot of tequila, but you know those things don't compare to the first long kiss on a second date. I remember my Esme, a beautiful lady, caring, loving, she turned our house into a home, and we had a house filled with the sounds of children's laughter." He laughed at a memory he was flashing back to. I found myself intrigued by his tale and sat enthralled on his voice.

"Esme, I want to, well um…" Carlisle reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, opening and reveling a beautifully simply ring, small diamonds on either side of a small olive green stone in the center. The small Italian restaurant was the perfect setting to ask the love is life to become his wife. As he removed it from the box and reached across the table, he stumbled and dropped the ring into the spaghetti plate they were sharing.

"Will you marry me?" He said a crocked smile on his face, Esme's face started to water, but as she cried she nodded her head vigorously, repeating yes over and over.

"She looked beautiful with all the rose petals in her hair, the day we got married, and ah, the dinners," He tossed his head back and laughed. "Burnt food the whole first year we were married and I kept asking for seconds so she wouldn't cry." I looked back at my own dinners with the girl waiting for me back at our apartment. She was always a good cook, something she had to be living with her single father the last two years of high school. I gave a sad smile. I would be having some good dinner right now if I hadn't been such an asshole. The bartender garbed a half a gallon of milk from the little refrigerator behind him and took out a glass, and I nodded to him, motioning to the milk.

"I'll take a glass of that." He smiled softly and pulled out another glass, pouring me a cup. I took a quick swig and a little picture caught my eye, he must have seen me looking because he said.

"That's my Esme," His voice wavered for a moment, "She died of cancer after 20 wonderful years of marriage. I was a drunken fool for five years after that, but I've been sober for three years now. It was thanks to my son and daughter that I went off the bottle, they reminded me off all the good memories we had together and that Esme wouldn't want me to drown my sorrows in alcohol." He set down the glass of milk and pulled out his wallet, reveling a couple more pictures.

One of his wife holding his daughter. "That's Alice," Another picture, one of a wedding party, "That's my son Emmett and his wife Rosalie, it was the day I gave Esme a pearl necklace, she smiled brighten enough to almost outshine Rosalie." Another picture reveled him holding a little girl in his arms. "My granddaughter, Esme, Emmett wanted to name her after his mother, and it meant the world that Rose and he would want to honor her that way." Him looked at me, and it was like something opened the flood gates and I couldn't stop talking, everything I'd been feeling, all the emotions I'd stored, I just let it all out. He didn't talk, didn't ask for clarification, he'd just nodded or touch my shoulder, pour me more milk and let me talk.

"I don't even remember why we started fighting…" He took my shoulder and gave me a good squeeze.

"When you get home, she'll start to cry, and we she says I'm sorry, say so am I. You're gonna look into those eyes, filled with love and you know what," I looked into his blue eyes.


"You'll drink it up, cuz' that, that's the good stuff." I nodded. I reached into my pocket to pay him, but he refused.

"No, just get home to your lady, that's enough pay for me. Maybe bring her by sometime." He gave one of those old smiles, and I just nodded. Suddenly in a rush to get home; I didn't remember driving or even turning the car off. I climbed the stairs two at a time, and unlocked the door. I saw her brown hair pulled up into a ponytail, she was bent over the kitchen table, her eyes shimmered with tears, I reached out to her, but I stepped on something, making a loud crunch beneath my feet. I looked down, finding a picture of us, shattered glass and picture frame. I bent down, and picked it up.

We were in the park, on a one of our dates, we were eating fruit and reading each other poems from a couple of our favorite books. I snapped a picture of us Eskimo kissing, it was a perfect day, and even getting caught in the rain it was still great. I set the picture down on the counter and sat down across from her. She looked up at me, whispering

"I'm sorry," I touched her cheek,

"I'm sorry, too love," As soon as the words left my mouth, she clumsily got up from the table and launched herself into my arms.

I had to kiss her, to make her know I was sorry about our fight and that it was stupid for us. I hugged her closer to me; bring her face up and kissing her full pouty lips.

"Oh Bella, I'm so sorry love," She returned my kiss, her fingers running through my messy hair,

"Me too Edward, please it was stupid," I silenced her with a kiss and picked her up, making my way to our bedroom,

"It doesn't matter love, just let me show me that I love you." I spent the rest of the night making love to my beautiful fiancé, the only way I could tell her I was sorry and show her we would always work out our problems one way or the other. As we laid curled up under sheets,

"I love you Bella,"

"I love you Edward,"


A/N: Anyone wondering about my others stories that were deleted and are being reposted, Bear with me! I'm sorry for taking so long!

And i'm thinking of adding to this One-shot with a lemon scene, depending on how many people want it, or feel it would improve the story.