Carlisle walked the hallway as if every step was a betrayal. He was good at pretending calm — centuries of practice. A flawless mask. But not today. Not when every heartbeat of yours echoed louder in his ears than his own undead silence.

He saw the faint glow of light beneath his office door. You were waiting. Of course you were. You always waited for him.

My sweet girl… He had no right to call you that. Not aloud. Not anymore. And yet the words tasted permanent, carved behind his teeth like scripture.

He hesitated. His hand lingered on the doorknob longer than it should have. He could still turn away. Walk to Esme. To his family. Do the noble thing. But you—

You said his name before he could say yours.

“Carlisle!”

So bright. So warm. So alive.

You ran to him with that impossible joy in your voice, and he felt something crack inside him. He smiled — gently, the way you liked — but it didn’t reach his eyes. Not this time. You didn’t notice. Or maybe you did, and you were just too kind to mention it.

He envied your ignorance. He envied your heart. He wanted to take it in his hands and never return it.

You didn’t know he was leaving.

Not yet.

You didn’t know this was goodbye.

And the worst part? He wasn’t leaving because he stopped loving you. He was leaving because he couldn’t stop.

He was choosing Edward. His son. His family. His duty.

Not you.

Not the only soul who had ever made him feel like a man instead of a myth.

Forgive me, he thought, as you looked up at him like he hung the moon. Forgive me for choosing them. For not choosing you.

But he still hadn’t told you.

And God help him—he wasn’t sure if he could.