Edward came to a passable agreement with the therapist that he and Carlisle would tolerate each other, but they would never have the close, loving relationship they'd once had. Edward was reluctantly working on his forgiveness of his father. The unresolved issue was Esme and Carlisle and the state of their marriage. Esme had moved out of the home she and Carlisle had shared for more than three decades, finding herself a small furnished apartment near mine. She wasn't ready to file for divorce, but she wasn't willing to live in Carlisle’s presence anymore, either. She'd also gone back to work as a print artist in the advertising business, something she'd given up when Edward was born, and had just started dabbling in again when he was arrested.
She'd devoted Edward's entire life to molding him into an outstanding person, compassionate and well rounded. I firmly believed she had done her job well. Esme was a strong, stunning force of nature; a woman I was proud to be friends with. I constantly saw in her the traits of strength, intelligence, and patience that Edward had inherited.
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