A/N: Welcome to my new story! I am so excited for you guys to read this one.

It's going to be more emotional. It will have a nice slow burn. It'll be sweet and sad all at the same time.

Inspired by the movie Catch and Release... But it doesn't follow the storyline at all.

Enjoy!


My house smelt like flowers. On a normal day, I would be overjoyed to have a house full of flowers. But it wasn't a normal day. It was the day of my husband's funeral.

I had close friends and family over after the funeral service at the church. Everyone brought flowers, and the smell was overwhelming, it was making me nauseated.

"You need to eat something," my mother spoke softly as she touched my elbow.

"I'm not hungry," I answered robotically.

"You haven't eaten all day," my mom looked at me with sadness.

I grabbed a cracker off the table and shoved it in my mouth to appease her. It made my already dry mouth feel like a dessert. I swallowed, hoping she was satisfied.

"Take care of yourself sweetie," she ran her hand down the length of my hair. "He wouldn't want you to be like this."

I hated when she guilt tripped me. I grabbed another cracker and walked away needing to be alone. I went upstairs to my bedroom… our bedroom. I sat at the edge of the bed and slowly nibbled away at my cracker.

I thought funerals were supposed to bring closure. I thought they were supposed to be a source of healing. I thought I would feel a sense of peace.

Truthfully, I felt more broken, confused, and lost. All I wanted to do was cry. I wanted to be alone. I wanted to scream. I wanted people to stop hugging me and sending their condolences. I was sick of seeing other people's tears. They had no idea what it was like to be me.

I had gotten the call when I was in class. I was an eleventh grade English teacher and I had been discussing The Great Gatsby with my class when my classroom phone started to ring. After I was told to go to the hospital immediately because my husband had been in a car accident, everything became a blur.

He had stayed home from work that day, he was an elementary school teacher. He had a nasty cold and called in. Apparently, he had gone to the store to pick up some cold medicine, when a truck ran a red light. He was killed instantly.

One of the things that haunted me the most was the fact that I hadn't kissed him that morning. I always kissed him. But he insisted that he didn't want to get me sick, so I left without even a single touch. If I would've known, it was his last day I would have kissed him goodbye.

My parents had been a great help with the funeral, and everything else. Caroline and Bonnie also stepped in getting everything done, that I couldn't bear to do… which was pretty much everything.

Stefan didn't have much family. His mom died when he was six. His dad helped as much as he could. He wasn't the warmest person, but he tried. He really loved Stefan so anything he could do to help he offered. Stefan also had a brother Damon, that I had met one time and one time only. He had shockingly showed up to our wedding. Stefan hadn't talked about his older mysterious brother much, but when he did, he didn't have a lot of nice things to say.

I'm pretty sure the only reason he came to our wedding was to please his dad. Their dad made many efforts over the years to reunite the bond they apparently once had. Stefan had told me they were the best of friends until Stefan was about 16. He never really explained why. I didn't ask a whole lot, I figured he would tell me one day when he was ready.

I never thought his life would be cut so short.

I was surprised when I saw his brother show up to the funeral. He sat in the back, by himself, his face unreadable. I never gave two thoughts about him until the funeral. When I saw him, my blood started to boil. I suddenly had a strong sense of hate for him. How could he be such a jerk to Stefan? Stefan was literally the nicest human being on the planet. How could anyone dislike him? Especially his own brother.

I shook off the thoughts, not wanting to waste more time on someone who didn't deserve an ounce of attention.

I stood up pacing my bedroom, blankly staring at the hanging pictures on our wall. They were filled with smiles, and pure joy. I couldn't help but look at them now and think how naïve I looked. I had no idea that life was always there to remind you that tomorrow wasn't a guarantee. That your loved ones will not be with you forever. I thought I had the world when I married Stefan. Who knew it was life's cruel way of giving me what I wanted and then taking it away, like taking a toy from a child.

I felt a chill in the room. It seemed so empty without him. It no longer held the warmth that it used to.

I suddenly needed to leave. As much I loathed going back downstairs to a bunch of depressed guests, being in my bedroom, that I once shared with my dead husband was much worse.

I descended the stairs, careful to take one at a time. When the front door opened and in walked Damon, Stefan's brother. I was the first person he saw. He looked up at me as I walked down the stairs. His face unreadable. I probably should have greeted him and said thanks for coming. But instead, I coldly looked at him, and brushed past him.


"Honey…" My mom looked at me hesitantly before handing me a hot cup of tea and sitting down next to me on the couch. "You've been sleeping here for a couple weeks. And you're welcome to stay as long as you want."

"But" I continued for her knowing she wanted to say something to me. She was afraid of making things worse, but that wasn't possible. I felt like I was at rock bottom.

"You haven't been to your house since,"

"The funeral," I finished for her. "You can say it mom. He's dead…my husband is dead. I'm sick of people treating me like a fragile piece of glass."

"I just want to make you feel better," my mom rubbed my shoulder. "And I don't know what to say."

"Just say it mom," I tried sounding less angry.

"I was just wondering if… I don't know," she finally spoke. She was afraid to say it, so I said it for her.

"I want to sell my house. I can't afford it on my income alone," I sighed.

"You also seem…" she was careful with her words. "like you hate being there."

"I do," I nodded. "It doesn't feel like my home without him," I could feel the tears spark my eyes as I said the words out loud. They seemed so heavy. Yet truthful.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" She asked.

"I'm sure," I had thought about it a lot in the last few weeks.

"Do you want to live here for a while?"

"No," I shook my head. "I'll look for an apartment, or maybe a town house."

"Honey, I really don't mind if you want to live here for a while," she assured me.

"I love you mom, but I'll need my space," I looked at her. "I appreciate the offer, but I haven't lived with you in years, and I just like my space."

She hugged me into her side. I know she just wanted to make me feel better. I know she wishes she could take away my pain, but she can't. Nobody can.


I had asked Giuseppe to come over to go through Stefan's things with me. If there was anything, he wanted to keep he could have it. Otherwise, I was going to donate most of it. There were a few things I would keep for myself, but most of it would have better use somewhere else.

I was going through our closet and folding up all his clothes to put in bags to donate. I had snagged a few t-shirts to keep for myself. They still smelt like him and I wanted to keep his scent as long as I could.

I heard a light tap on my bedroom door, "Elena," I heard Giuseppe.

"In here," I called from my closet. "Sorry, I didn't hear you come in."

"That's ok," he watched me sort through the mess in front of me. "What would you like me to help with?"

"You can go through the garage," I suggested. "Stefan has tons of tools and other stuff I'm sure he'd love for you to have. I don't want any of it, so take whatever. And whatever you don't want, you can box it up, so I can donate it. There are boxes downstairs."

"Sure," he nodded.

I continued stuffing his clothes into bags. "Umm… Elena," Giuseppe sounded nervous.

"Yeah," I stood up, to start sorting through his shoes.

"I hope you don't mind…" he shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I sort of invited Damon."

I stopped what I was doing. Why would he do that? I didn't trust Damon. He'd probably take Stefan's things just to pawn them for money. Not because he cared about him. "Why?" I tried to not sound irritated.

"Well, he might want something…" he let his sentence fall.

I could tell Giuseppe was stuck in a hard place. He only had one son left, and he didn't have the best relationship with him. He was probably trying to salvage what he has left with who he has left. He was a widow and now he lost a child. I couldn't blame him for wanting to get closer to the only family he had left.

"Ok," I responded. I was not happy about the fact that Damon would be snooping around my house, but I would do it for Giuseppe.

Giuseppe seemed to sigh and relief before going downstairs to head for the garage.

I went back to filling trash bags. I tried to not think much about what I was giving away. The more I detached myself the faster I was getting it done. I never realized how much stuff he had until now.

I carried four full trash bags downstairs, two in each hand. I put them in the entry way by the door, so I could donate them tomorrow.

I turned around when I heard footsteps coming from my kitchen. I quickly turned the corner expecting Giuseppe when I slammed into Damon. "What the hell?" I stumbled away from him. "It would've been nice to know you were here! How come you didn't knock?"

"I thought my dad told you I was coming?" His eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"This is still my house!" I snarled. "I don't know you. I don't trust you… snooping around like some sneaky burglar ready to pawn his brother's things."

He tried hiding his smile, pressing his lips together. "Didn't realize Stefan was into someone who was so… My type."

"Ugh!" I rolled my eyes and turned away from him, moving to the kitchen. "No wonder I've never met you before."

"Well actually I believe we said hi at your wedding," he corrected, following me into the kitchen.

I got a glass of water, praying he would just join his dad in the garage. "What do you want?" I asked as he didn't move.

"My dad said you guys had pictures," he said.

"Pictures?"

"Yeah," he crossed his arms. "When you made memory boards, or whatever," he rolled his eyes. "I want to go through them. See if there's anything I want."

I pushed off the counter and walked out into the formal dining room. There were boxes of pictures, and photo albums still sprawled out on the dining table. I pointed to the stacks of pictures, "There."

"Thanks," He sat down making himself comfortable. He pulled a box to himself and started looking through them.

"Why do you even want them anyway?" I sounded less than nice. "You never even liked each other anyways."

He kept his eyes on the photos as he shuffled through them. "Once upon a time we did."

I shook my head still suspicious of him, but I let him be and went back to my bedroom. I packed away his shoes, the few pieces of Jewelry he owned, and cleaned out the bathroom. I kept his cologne and his wedding band, not ready to part ways with it.

I carried down more boxes and bags and was surprised to find Damon still looking through photos. He had a small pile next to him. I peeked over his shoulder and saw the picture on top. It was a picture of the two of them in their late teens. They had their arms around each other and were smiling. It looked like it was a first day of school picture or something. I was kind of intrigued by the picture. I didn't go through any of his family pictures. Caroline and Bonnie did those as I laid on the couch unable to do anything.

"Don't worry, I haven't stolen anything," he said without looking over his shoulder at me.

"Yet," I said loud enough for him to hear, as I walked away. I set the boxes near the door. I was already exhausted, and I had only finished our bedroom and bathroom. There was still so much house to go through. And then after that I had to pack my things so I could move.

I walked back to the dining room. I grabbed our wedding photo album and started going through the pictures. It never got old looking at them. Seeing how happy we were was like living that day all over again.

"He was happy," Damon spoke, breaking me out of my trance.

"Hmm?" I looked at him.

"Stefan," he clarified. "He was really happy that day," he gestured to the photo album.

"Like you care," I glared at him.

"Just because we have a shaky history doesn't mean I wanted the guy to be miserable," he glared back. "So, you can quit with the judgy looks. Just remember you only got one side of the story."

I flushed as he assumed Stefan told me the story. I looked down, trying to hide my curiosity. I didn't care to hear Damon's side of the story, knowing he'd probably paint Stefan as the bad guy.

"Ohh," he smirked. "He didn't tell you."

I looked up at him, with a glare.

"That's ok," he grabbed at another pile of pictures. "I'm sure I'd be the villain in your eyes no matter what."

"I know Stefan," I said a little too aggressively. "He's a good guy. He would never do anything to hurt anyone."

Damon just smiled, but it was full of malice. It was the smile of the devil. He didn't say anything, he just continued his search.

"Why do you even want pictures of him, if you hate him so much?" I crossed my arms over my chest.

He slid over a picture of two young happy boys. I picked up the picture to get a better look. They looked like best friends. "That is the Stefan I miss," he sounded cold. "Not the one you married."

"You're an ass," I slid the picture back to him.

He smirked, "You don't even know me honey."

"I don't need to," I shot back.

"You'll want to," he put away the rest of the photos and grabbed the small pile he had accumulated. "All women do."

"Ugh!" I fumed. "No wonder Stefan hated you!" I could feel my fists clenching so hard that it hurt. "You're disgusting!" I stood up so I was standing above him. "Are you seriously hitting on me only days after your brother's funeral?!"

He just chuckled before standing up and pushing in his chair. He shoved the pictures in his leather jacket. "Don't flatter yourself," he looked at me. "You're too stiff."

"I'm sure you like them nice and loose," I clenched my jaw.

"Pull the stick out of your ass Elena," he rolled his eyes. "Might help you get laid."

I couldn't help myself I slapped him clear across the face, and it was hard. I think it was all the pent-up anger I had from losing Stefan. And not to mention having his brother say some pretty terrible things just took the cake.

"Damn!" He hissed, rubbing his cheek.

"Why would you say that?" I meant for it to come out strong and angry, but my voice cracked, and my eyes welled up with tears. Why would he suggest me having sex after my husband just died? What the hell was wrong with him?

His face changed for a millisecond before I went running off into my room. I had stayed strong through most of this but for some reason that cut deep. I don't know if it was because he didn't even know me, and he was suggesting that I should move on. Or if it was the realization that someday I would, and that killed me. I didn't want to picture my life with anyone else. So, did that mean I was going to be a lonely widow the rest of my life? Or did I have to accept reality and realize that one day I'd have to move on...


A/N: Damon is supposed to be a dick FYI. He's very much like he is in the show. You wont like him very much in the beginning, but you'll slowly grow to love him. I hope you liked the first chapter, it was very much just an intro. It'll dive in more next chapter. Anyways, let me know your thoughts! Love you guys, and see you next week :)