Vanity and Patience: A Rosalie Hale & Emmett Cullen Story

Chapter 24: Grief

Numbness.

I felt nothing.

No sadness, no anger, yet I knew I wasn't well and far from happy at the moment. I couldn't feel the floor beneath my feet, or even the strong arms that held me every so often. I stared unseeingly at the ceiling; out the window. I couldn't hear the voices that spoke to me, though I knew my family was offering their consolation. For the last seventy-two hours, I'd resembled something close to a zombie.

I had almost made peace with the fact that I'd left that life, no matter how much I wanted it back. I knew I could never have my mortality. I'd spent two years trying to bring myself to acknowledge that fact. I knew that I would never have the opportunity to feel my mother embrace me or receive another pretty dress from my father ever again. I would never have to chase my brothers around the house or put them to bed. I would never have a chance to have a family like they did. I understood that they were my past, even though my curiosity and desire for that life brought me to spy on them on occasion. Still, why did it affect me so when I heard news that my parents had passed on?

Carlisle and Esme had disposed of the local Rochester paper that they'd brought home with them in case I wanted to know the details. Realizing quickly that I didn't want to know more than I needed, they'd then thrown it out. However, the headline was burned into my memory, standing momentarily at the forefront of my thoughts. "Vehicle Run Off Bridge by Passing Truck, Killing Man and Wife."

The one good thing about the paper was the funeral information in the obituary section, something that my superhuman eye had caught as Emmett was about to take the trash out. I stepped out of my zombie stupor for a moment and snatched the paper, reading and absorbing the details of the service. Emmett held my hand, coming to Carlisle with it, asking if I could at least be present, and be a fly in the wall. The family was not surprised by my desire for a chance to bid farewell to my parents. Emmett, of course, who hadn't left my side since the news was brought to me, insisted he come along. I didn't have any objection to such a suggestion, knowing I would probably need all the support I could get.

"Of course, Rosalie. I have no qualms about your presence at the funeral," Carlisle answered, and immediately I felt a tiny bit better, numb feeling aside. "However, you must ensure that you are not seen, much less recognized. Also, I cannot allow Emmett to go with you when so many humans will be there. Not after what happened last week."

Emmett hung his head, clearly displeased in Carlisle's decision, but never disrespectful enough to argue with his word. In my numbness I was able to still feel a hint of disappointment, as I looked to Emmett for my strength, though I knew this was going to be painful with or without him.

Esme rubbed Emmett's back, trying to help him feel better. It was easy to see he was a bit distraught and slightly remorseful—the consequences of his human experiment catching up to him.

I saw Carlisle's eyes flicker between us before he walked back to his study with a slight look of unease on his face. I wondered what that was all about, but figured it was nothing.

A couple of days later—the day before the funeral—Carlisle called for a family meeting in the dining room. I felt mildly surprised as I wondered what it could be about.

Carlisle looked at us with a serious expression on his face. "I wanted to call this meeting to discuss the plans about the funeral. I feel that I was a bit hasty in my decision about Emmett."

Emmett and I both furrowed our brows, but I noticed that Edward and Esme seemed to be in on this discussion before we sat with them.

"I have decided to let Emmett accompany you to the service. I apologize that I will be in a forty-hour shift at the hospital, and will be unable to be there for you in your time of grief. I have asked Edward and Esme to accompany you both to the funeral. They can be there to restrain Emmett should he lose control."