A/N: I can say I was shocked by the number of folks excited about this sequel. Thank you everybody for showing this Bamon/Stefonnie fic love. On with the show.
Mystic Falls, May—2013
WHEN YOU MADE a choice and you think it's the right choice, you never know how it's going to be to live with it. When you're settled in a decision there's peace, but when you're unsure there's tumult.
Today he had needed to hit the weights to clear his mind. Benching, curls, pull ups, and cardio burned the calories and the excess tension of anxiety that was unfortunately starting to creep back in. The cunning thing about anxiety was, it never went away; it just became dormant until triggered. And Stefan Salvatore was definitely triggered.
Overall his week had been shitty. He took partial joy in it being Friday, but there wasn't much else for him to look forward to. His weekends were dedicated to honing his skills as a photographer. He had boasted to his brother about closing on a space he had grand designs to turn into a studio and school, but those plans had fallen through. The developer had a change of heart. In actuality, it had been a change of money from the city or another buyer offering double what Stefan could afford. That setback usually wouldn't have hampered his drive to succeed, but it fucking did. The taste of failure had him returning to the familiar.
So Stefan had fled to Mystic Falls to lick his wounds, and to start the arduous task of packing up the home that made him feel like a true adult. Shoving years of memories and mementos into cardboard, sealing away the version of himself he felt alien to today. Vacating the space he wandered around bare foot, naked, or fully clothed, preparing meals in the kitchen, lounging on the couch, soaking in a tub surrounded by candles. A new couple would move into the townhouse he and Bonnie bought and create new secrets and traditions for the walls to absorb.
Cricking his neck, he stomped across the parking lot of Hard Hitters Gym unmindful of the rain that soaked through his hoodie, t-shirt, and jogging pants, and deactivated the alarm on his rental. Stefan tossed his gym bag in the back and climbed behind the wheel. He stuffed the key in the ignition but he couldn't turn it over.
Someone was standing in front of his car.
His heart had been pounding from his bruising workout before, now it was pounding so badly he could taste it in his Adam's apple as he stared at her. Though her face was shadowed by the hood of her jacket, he knew it was her. Once upon a time she used to live under his skin that came alive, started to tingle whenever he looked at her, felt her presence, smelled her perfumed skin, or heard her sweet, sultry voice. At the moment, she stood unmoving, being pelted by the rain. Stefan wondered where she came from and how she'd know he'd be here. He supposed that didn't really matter since she found him. The windshield was slowly fogging up, and though the picture of her was partially distorted, he couldn't avert his gaze. Fuck, he couldn't even blink.
She moved and his muscles twitched. Every limb he possessed was tense, but with each step she took as she rounded the hood of his car, they loosened, became pliable.
Cold air rushed in the second she opened the passenger side door and plopped down on the seat. Instantly his nostrils filled, was overwhelmed by her scent, the rain. He turned his whole head knowing he was glaring but the glare wasn't really meant for her.
His eyes dipped down and devoured the sight of her parted shiny lips, and the tiny droplets of water that clung to her cheeks and dripped from the bottom of her chin. He watched as one rolled down her throat, and he licked his dry lips wishing he could chase after it with his tongue.
No. It wasn't like that with them anymore and it never would be again. Why was that so hard to remember as of late?
Stefan tore his gaze away, and with nothing else to do, he strangled the steering wheel. "What do you want?" He finally broke the silence.
She pushed her hood off. Now he could smell her damp, shampoo infused hair. Cacao, olive and coconut oil. "We need to talk."
He blew out a breath feeling tired suddenly. And despite his wet and cold clothes, his body heat rose. He could see the steam rising off his own skin, could see that steam fogging up the windows even more. With her so close, and the space so tight between them, it was a miracle he could still breathe and think. His blood, after all, was beginning to traverse south. Stefan slumped against the seat, spread his knees as far as they could go, the left bumping against the door, the right pressed against the console. Stupid traitorous body.
"The only communication we need to have is through our lawyers and realtor."
"A divorce, Stefan? How can you file for a divorce when we're not even technically married since I had you declared dead?"
"The divorce is just to take care of any…unforeseen loopholes," he explained. "I thought you'd be happy."
Bonnie Bennett swallowed with some difficulty. Unconsciously she noticed Stefan's cheeks were lightly flushed; his hair was wet, and his face damp. He was growing a beard again. Right now it was just several days' worth of whiskers that hugged his angular jaw. These were observations she made and imprinted with little awareness she was actually doing it.
"Happy?" she jeered. "Blindsided, maybe. I just didn't…expect it. I thought. I thought we had gotten to a place where we could be cordial and maybe friendly with one another."
Having a sheriff show up at her office to serve her with divorce papers, Bonnie thought she had understood humiliation. She had gotten a rude reality check on that.
"I'm not doing this to hurt you. I'm protecting myself, Bon. That's all I'm trying to do. I'm hoping to launch my own photography studio and…"
Bonnie held up a hand. "I get it. The divorce is so I won't have any claim to your business or its revenue. I would never ask you for anything. Especially after everything I've done."
Stefan made no reply. The conversation since the Night He Wish He Could Forget seemed to be Bonnie's regret and his anger. It was on a constant rotation and nothing was ever solved or changed. They lived apart. He was doing what he could to build a life in California. He thought…he thought he had even been falling in love with Leah Clearwater. For a few short weeks life felt perfect.
Until it had been brought to his attention that on some credit reports he was still listed as married. That had been a shock, a tough pill to swallow that some institutions continued to recognize his marriage when he thought it had been dissolved by a technicality. So Stefan called up his lawyer and asked official divorce papers be drafted. Of course it felt personal to Bonnie. Irrevocably severing ties to someone you made vows to, there was no way it would ever be impersonal. But he honestly hadn't done it to hurt her. Stefan simply wanted his stability back.
"Fine. I guess it makes sense. If either of us remarries, it'll be good to know for sure our first marriage is…truly over."
Her words knocked Stefan out of his reverie.
"So let's go to the lawyer's office," Bonnie sighed. "I have the papers in my car. This doesn't have to be a process that lasts for months."
Stefan perked up, "Don't…don't you want to hire your own lawyer and have them look everything over? We didn't sign a prenup."
"I'm not expecting you to take care of me until I remarry. We've already agreed to sell the house and split the profits."
"The joint bank account?"
"Again, we'll split that evenly."
"The boardinghouse?"
"I have no claim to that. That house was passed down to you and Damon," Bonnie angled her body more toward her ex. "The only thing I want out of this is us not to harbor any ill-will toward each other and…" Bonnie bit her lip, "you and Damon to be brothers again. Real brothers."
Stefan's nostrils flared at that. He looked away, stared out of the windshield. The rain stopped and now a light mist fell from the sky. "It's going to take more than a notarized document for that to happen," he rumbled darkly.
"So long as it happens."
"Idealist."
Bonnie smiled sadly, "One of us has to be."
A long silence fell between them.
Stefan brought his bluish-green gaze to Bonnie once more. "Are you keeping my last name?"
Bonnie opened her mouth to respond, no words came, just a choked kind of sound. She hadn't thought about it. Relinquishing the name Salvatore. A last name she'd had for a good chunk of her life. Could she do that?
"Seems it would be a hassle to change it if one day you marry Damon," a muscle in Stefan's jaw ticked. He didn't really want to think about her marrying anyone else right now. But the thought was there, unbidden.
Bonnie ducked her head, uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken. She and Damon were nowhere near ready for marriage, and hadn't talked about it. Discussing that with Stefan would be cruel and twisting a knife, therefore, she pinched her lips together, ducked her head.
Seeing the discomfort radiating from Bonnie brought Stefan no measure of satisfaction. The idea of his ex-wife and brother running off into the sunset made the center of his chest burn with hatred and his knuckles itch. Seeing the kind of marriage his parents had, the lies, the infidelity, the fights Stefan expected to be turned off by the idea of settling down with one person. Marriage was something that may or may not happen for him, and if it never did he figured he wouldn't be missing anything. Then he met Bonnie and the search was over. She was THE ONE. Love was real.
The unfortunately lesson he learned was: Love could be crushed and incinerated by the one he thought would never turn her back on him.
Bonnie could see what he was thinking about. Guilt fanned through her entire body and made her feel dizzy. Her cheeks heated.
Thumping his head on the head rest, Stefan whispered, "If I had never gone on that trip…would we be here?"
It was a valid question. A dangerous question. One Bonnie tiptoed around because if she really examined the answer, well, she'd end up breaking another heart.
She avoided that reality and concentrated on the one she was living in and going through. After all, someone wise once said when you're in hell go through it. Don't stop to take pictures.
Abruptly Stefan started the engine. "Follow me to Mason's office."
Blinking rapidly, Bonnie fumbled for the door handle. "All right. I'll meet you there."
Forty-five minutes later they were shown into Mason Lockwood's office. The attorney took one look at his clients, their water-logged appearance, the sorrow in Bonnie's eyes versus the resignation in Stefan's. He read the grave situation for what it was and acted accordingly, swiftly, carefully explaining the terms to the dissolution of their marriage.
"Are you sure you don't want to wait until your own counsel is present before signing, Bonnie?"
"Do you know the details of how my relationship with Stefan ended?"
Mason glanced at the man in question before returning her unflinching stare. He nodded infinitesimally.
Bonnie arched a brow, "So how can I demand anything? What's been drawn up in these papers is fair enough."
She stretched out a hand for the pen. Mason hesitated before placing it into her palm. Bonnie applied her signature to every place it had been marked for her to supply her name. Each time she did, more and more tears clouded her eyes but didn't fall. Her nose felt plugged and her knee wouldn't stop bouncing. Once reaching the final page, Bonnie wavered. Her hand shook. A piece of her felt, maybe even irrationally, like she was Princess Mary signing away her legitimacy, declaring herself a bastard to save her neck. Yet if she, Stefan, and Damon were going to move on, to end the pain this had to be done.
Her throat was a pinhole and everything had grown numb. Mason and Stefan watched, one breathing evenly, the other having a bit of trouble filling his lungs.
Clearing her throat, Bonnie scrawled her name along the final dotted line, and pushed the papers away as if they were toxic. She met each man's gaze, rose to her feet, and walked out of the office without a backwards look.
:::::
THE RAIN TOYED with them. Coming down in heavy sheets that wiped out visibility before becoming lite and delicate. She had to wait for a lull in the rain to make her escape, and Bonnie took it as soon as she could actually see her car parked in the driveway.
She locked the car after parking in a packed lot then clicked and clacked across herringbone brick. She was dressed to kill because she refused to sit around at home to reminiscence about this afternoon. Divorced in a single day, must be some kind of new record, Bonnie thought forlornly. With her boyfriend and best friend inaccessible, her self-esteem needed an alcoholic boost.
And there was only one place to go. Donovan's, a restaurant located inside the Van Dussen Hotel.
She inclined her head at the doorman who pulled back the brass handle of the glass door of the hotel, then ambled her way across silver-veined marble to the bar. The cacophony of conversations was louder than the instrumental music that meant to bolster a relaxed and upscale ambiance. Everyone was determined to be heard over the next group of rowdy parishioners, laughing obnoxiously and making lewd comments. Coming here on a Friday was probably a bad idea, but Bonnie got either free or discounted drinks because she happened to know the owner. Matt Donovan.
Tonight Bonnie was hoping not to run into him. He would ask questions and she lacked the patience to answer them.
She bypassed the hostess motioning she was going straight for the bar that was thankfully not overrun with impatient businesspeople or college coeds. There had been a gaggle of men who halted their conversations to watch her glide across the restaurant, but she could care less. She wasn't here to get hit on or go home with anybody.
Bonnie found a vacant stool and wiggled her way on to it, and dropped her clutch on the surface of the bar. The green-eyed beauty ordered a shot to start and a California red to follow.
Five minutes later her cell rang giving her a break from loneliness. "Hey, Lena."
"How are you? You sound frustrated."
Bonnie's lips pulled into a tight smile. "Not frustrated just…I don't know what the hell I am," she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Would you believe me if I said I got divorced today?"
"What?" Elena squeaked.
"Yeah. I got served with papers earlier this week. Stalked Stefan to the gym, we talked, and headed to Mason's office to make our split as official as it can get."
"Damn, I'm sorry, Bonnie."
"Yeah, well."
"Is Damon with you?"
"No, he is not," Bonnie mouthed thank you to the bartender after he dropped off her wine. "I haven't talked to him all day. Tried to call him I don't know how many times but I just…can't."
"You need time to process everything that's happened. You essentially lost Stefan all over again although you guys haven't been together for months."
Bonnie shook her head, fighting the threat of tears. "We sat in Mason's office last September where he said that our marriage wasn't valid since I had Stefan declared dead. Fast forward and Stefan has papers drawn up to make absolutely certain there won't be any surprises later. I know it makes sense but it doesn't make sense. We had no idea what we were to each other anymore when he came back. We thought…fuck."
Elena murmured sympathetically. "I wish I could be there for you."
"Hearing your voice over the phone helps."
"What's your next move after selling the house? You continue to live in Mystic Falls or New York?"
Elena was the only person who knew the total truth. Bonnie couldn't have hidden it from her since Elena had been working the night she was rushed to the emergency room after falling on a piece of glass from a broken picture frame. Hospital room confessions ensued and Bonnie's bestie knew her dirty laundry. The rest of Bonnie's friends knew she and Stefan had split, but not the reason, and she was going to keep it that way for as long as she could.
"My practice is here," she answered. "I don't know if I want to uproot my life and move to New York."
"So you're going to long distance it out with Damon?"
Bonnie rubbed her lips together. She didn't feel right discussing their future on the same day she signed divorce papers.
A man sat on the stool next to her, tapped her shoulder. Bonnie glared and pointed she was on her phone and shooed him off.
"TBD," she hedged. "Enough about my problems, how are things going in Colorado?"
"Great. Jenna and Mark say hello by the way. Oh and I have news," Elena trilled giddily. "Jeremy finally proposed to Anna."
Brows arched, Bonnie drank a huge gulp of wine. "Really? That's…nice," she rolled her eyes at the lame, half-hearted reply. "Have they set a date?"
"They're thinking next spring or summer for the wedding. Anna's already asked me to be her maid of honor. It was so romantic how he…"
Bonnie's mind floated away from Elena's gushy recap.
Pressed up against the wall of her tiny Parisian apartment, hot breath on her neck that turned into a moist tongue, Bonnie moaned as Stefan left a wet, hot trail of kisses along her throat.
"Marry me," he breathed, voiced graveled, on her flushed skin.
She didn't give him an answer. Too lost in what he was doing to her neck and below her hips to form a coherent, intelligible thought.
"Marry me," he slid into her swollen, hard, and fast.
When morning came, she woke up first. Bonnie stretched the kinks out of her body, smiled at the faint throb happening in her center, moaned as contentment rolled through her like waves. Rolling her head to her left, her nose nearly bumped into Stefan.
He slept on his stomach, face buried in the pillow. In a flash she remembered the question he had asked and wondered if it had just been something he said in the heat of the moment. They had talked about marriage in passing. Little comments about if they ever saw themselves tying the knot, did they want children and how many. It had all been hypothetical, way in the future considerations, not something she ever expected Stefan to bring up a year and a half into their relationship. Yet as she mulled it over, Bonnie found she didn't want to picture what life would be like without Stefan in it. He was her best friend even her cheerleader on occasion. He was home.
Smiling, an idea came to her. Bonnie tip toed out of bed, into the bathroom, and returned. Straddling Stefan, she uncapped her lipstick and wrote her reply down the center of his spine. He woke up a few minutes later, groggy, creases on his cheek and temple, smiling goofily at her.
"Were you serious about what you asked me yesterday?" she said in lieu of a good morning.
"What I asked?"
"Yes," she slapped his chest. "The very important question you asked me. The question most women long to hear."
"Oh, that question."
Bonnie rolled her eyes but stared expectantly.
Stefan scratched his side after propping himself up on his elbow. "Yeah. I meant it."
"My answer is on your back."
His brow furrowed in confusion. "What?" he twisted his neck awkwardly to try to see.
"Go look in the mirror, idiot."
"I don't know if I want to get married if I'm going to be insulted upon waking up. Can I get a blow job first?"
For that he received a whack to the face with a pillow. Chuckling, Stefan climbed out of bed in full birthday suit, dick bobbing. He made his way to the bathroom.
Two seconds later, Bonnie heard a joyful whoop. A naked Salvatore flew out of the bathroom and tackled her on the bed. He kissed her full on the mouth. Bonnie wasn't really pretending to be grossed out.
"Morning breath," she complained and tried to wiggle free.
"Get used to it because you're gonna be stuck with me for forever."
"Bonnie? Bonnie, you still there?"
"What? Yeah. Sorry. What were you saying?" Bonnie flagged down the bartender and ordered yet another drink.
By the time she got off the phone with Elena she had downed two additional glasses of wine. Head buzzing, her worries and cares bled through her pores. Paradise wasn't always a sandy beach and turquoise waters. Paradise could be a bottomless cup.
::::
THE BUSTLE OF activity inside Donovan's showed no signs of slowing down as the hour inched closer to midnight. Most businesses were beginning to or had closed their doors for the night, but those who catered to the nocturnal turned few away. There was always one more dollar to be made.
One sweep of the bar was all it took to find her. He stood in the cut observing as she sat alone wearing a dark blue dress he knew fit like a second skin. With no ring on her finger (not like it mattered to some), no friends around to act as creep repellent, she appeared to be fair game. Exhaling, Stefan clenched his molars on top of one another.
He had gotten a call from Matt asking if he could give Bonnie a ride home. That was the last thing he saw himself doing after the afternoon they had, but here he was to the rescue. Old habits being hard as fuck to break. He could have easily told Matt to do the obvious and call Bonnie a cab. But his friend entrusted his ex to no one's care but Stefan's. It wasn't that Matt wasn't aware of their breakup; he and his wife Rebekah had made it up in their minds to play a sly game of Cupid to get them back together. Stefan had no problems spoiling the end of the movie. It wasn't happening.
The hostess beamed and eyed him with frank appreciation, but he shut her down before she could get a foot in the door.
"Just looking for a…friend. Thanks."
In less than six strides, Stefan was across the restaurant and almost T-boned Matt who had come from his office presumably.
The two men gave one another a pound and engaged in a dulcet conversation with Matt occasionally looking at Bonnie who finally looked up from the bottom of her glass. Once it registered what and who she was seeing, daggers shot from her eyes.
"You've been made, my friend," Matt clapped him on the shoulder. "Go get your girl."
Stefan did a double take. "She's not my girl anymore, asshole."
Matt held up his hands trying and failing to look contrite.
"Bonnie."
Startled, she whipped her head to the right. He arrived at her side a lot quicker than expected. Stefan was leaned over her chair as he stood behind her, his lips nothing but a hairsbreadth away from her ear. He wore jeans and an olive green button down that highlighted the fruits of his workouts. Resting most of his weight on his left hand that was placed palm down on the bar next to her elbow, Bonnie caught herself staring at his Tag Heuer watch. It had been a gift she'd given to Stefan on their second wedding anniversary.
"Why are you here?" she pushed her wine glass back and forth on the napkin.
"To take you home. Matt said you had more than usual to drink."
"Snitch," she hissed. "That's an exaggeration. I only had a couple of glasses of wine."
"Couple, a few, a dozen, doesn't matter. You're not getting behind the wheel."
Bonnie scowled. "I do know how to call a cab. So you came all this way for nothing. Besides, we're divorced, Stefan. That means you're off the hook. You no longer have to care about me."
Stefan pursed his lips, "You know me better than that. Let's go."
Bonnie huffed. Stefan's stubbornness could match and outshine hers. A battle of wills, a high noon showdown between the exes ensued with neither blinking nor budging.
"Bon, it's late," Matt intervened. "Let Stefan take you home. We'll all feel better knowing you made it home safe."
Fuck safety, Bonnie had to bite down real hard on her tongue not to say that. It was more than just her safety. It was principle. It was the fact the man standing adjacent to her had divorce papers drummed up that were signed just this afternoon. It was that same man coming to her aid to drive her to the place they picked out and purchased together. It was a reminder how she failed as a wife and a decent human being.
Her eyes burned and she looked away. Matt picked up on her turmoil, shot Stefan a look before backing away knowing that whatever was about to transpire would be easier on them both if he wasn't around to witness it.
Stefan leaned closer, boxing Bonnie in. "I don't want to cause a scene but I will if I have to. I will throw you over my shoulder. If you don't want to have an up close encounter with my ass as you hang upside down, you'll grab your purse, get off this gotdamn stool, and come with me. Final warning."
Bonnie squinted. Stefan arched a brow. Blindly she reached for her clutch.
Stefan pulled out her chair and backed up a step to give her room to maneuver to her feet.
"Hey," he addressed one of the bartenders, "put her bill under my tab. Salvatore."
"Nope," Bonnie popped open her clutch, extracted a fifty, and dropped it next to her empty glass.
Shaking his head, Stefan followed behind Bonnie and lightly touched her elbow to steer her where he parked.
A tension filled ride that seemed to last forever came to a blessed end. Bonnie, with a shaky hand, unlocked the door of the townhouse. She kicked off her shoes, flicked on some lights. Guardedly she watched Stefan as he tentatively entered the premises covertly looking around. Looking for signs his brother was there amid the boxes and packing materials, Bonnie guessed.
"Thanks for seeing me home," she yawned and rubbed her temples.
"Thanks for not puking on the way here."
Bonnie snorted. "I can hold my liquor. Like I said, I only had a few drinks."
"Speaking of drinks, don't forget to drink some water."
"I won't. Do you…do you want something to drink before you go?"
"No, I'm fine," Stefan flashed a strained smile, dawdled for a moment. "I should have asked this earlier but where's Damon?"
"Boston for a leadership conference. Why?"
"Thought he might be around to give you a lift to pick up your car tomorrow."
"I'll just take a cab to get it." Pause. "While I'm doing that I need to figure out where I'm going to live," Bonnie randomly shared. "I guess I need to start apartment hunting."
Stefan remained mute.
He eyed Bonnie as she stood in the center of the living room. He couldn't help it. He looked down to the floor to that spot where she had landed on a wicked piece of broken glass from a picture frame he smashed in rage. Eyes wandering back to Bonnie, Stefan couldn't see the puckered, keloid scar on the inside of her right thigh since her dress covered it up, but he knew it was there. A permanent reminder of how out of control he felt, a reminder their lives had imploded. And they were still cleaning up the mess. He swallowed, chest heaved up and down. He needed to get out of here.
"It's sad we never even got a chance to," Bonnie let her thought wander away. If she thought of the children they never got around to having, the floodgates would open.
Stefan knew what she was hinting at. He was glad there weren't any kids involved, but maybe if there had been? Thinking like this yielded nothing so he cut off the thought.
"I should go."
Big green eyes widened a little, "Oh. Okay," Bonnie's voice was whisper soft and threadbare.
She showed him to the door. The air was heavy. She propped her shoulder against the wall, staring at her ex-husband with glazed eyes and maybe even a pinch of nostalgia. Should she be annoyed or resigned that despite everything he still meant a lot to her and probably always would? Why couldn't feelings just end after signing a piece of paper, or someone moving out, or stopping all lines of communication? Why did things fester until the feelings were no longer raw and visceral?
Stefan regarded her for a moment, hand on the knob.
This was déjà vu. They had been here before. Only, they had been standing outside of a restaurant days prior to Valentine's Day. Stefan had been as open as he could get, all things considered, when he admitted he could try again if Bonnie wanted. She said she was in love with his brother. That was it. They were done. Stefan's last sliver of hope had been summarily crushed, but he walked away not feeling defeated or being shoved aside, but something he couldn't quite categorize. Hopeful, maybe, that his life and story were about to get a reboot.
Here he stood just three months later and it was no easier the second time around.
Stefan had allowed himself a taste of her mouth in February as a sweet, tortured goodbye, but that want was rolling back in. Thicker than its predecessor. When he looked at Bonnie he didn't see her fucking his brother. She was the simply the woman who accosted him on a busy Parisian street for taking her picture. She was the woman who made him belief he was not a pariah to happiness.
Bonnie felt the pull. Could see where it may potentially lead. Those possibilities made her heart pound. She didn't fight it when Stefan lightly grabbed what fabric he could of her dress and pulled her into him. For one tantalizing second she thought…but no. This was better. Her arms wrapped around his waist as she buried her nose in his chest. Finally the tears came and wouldn't stop coming. She cried so hard a vein protruded from her temple as she balled Stefan's shirt in her little fist.
Dammit, he wanted her, wanted to make love to her one last time. They were still husband and wife even if the titles were nothing but a matter of formality. That underlining heat…Their connection it flickered and burned and petered out before charging again. It was confusing but what was familiar was having Bonnie close, touching her, holding her.
Unfortunately…
She was with Damon now.
So. That was his dick talking which he ignored. Barely.
"I should go," he said.
Bonnie held him tighter.
"I need to."
Bonnie shook her head.
Stefan bit back a groan. "Please, Bon. Let me go."
Her petulant brain didn't want to.
"We shouldn't be…doing this. We can't make it worse." That's what his mouth said but his hands were busy rubbing her back, caressing along the curve of her spine coming within a millimeter of her ass.
He was hard and warm and familiar. If they just…
What about Damon?
Bonnie pierced her closed eyes even tighter as shame funneled through her. His face flashed in her mind. Those blue-blue eyes, that dirty smirk. She loved him. And this…this wasn't right.
Sighing breathily and, with herculean strength of will, Bonnie stepped away and wrapped her arms around herself. She hadn't been too sure what she might have let happen or even initiated. Alcohol in her system, impaired judgement, feeling alone and vulnerable was a recipe for 'what the fuck did I do last night?' Yet for a second, she had been willing to risk it all to feel Stefan rutting into her wet, hot twat again. Flames burned in her cheeks. She vowed to get and keep her shit together.
Their rushed breathing and erratic heartbeats was about the only thing to be heard in the darkened foyer. Stefan licked his lips as he stared at Bonnie's. She did the same.
Stefan tipped his head, opened the door. He left saying what he couldn't.
Their business should have been finished. Now, it just seemed like it had been put on pause.
::::
RED AND BLUE lights lit up the area like a dance hall. Horns blared, radios squawked as police officers, firefighters, and EMT's arrived on the 1600 block of Mayor's Drive. What people were still burning the midnight oil at their offices had crept outside though ordered to stay back as firefighters tried to put out the flames that engulfed the offices of Mason Lockwood, Esquire.
A smile blossomed on her lips. She'll be so pleased when she finds out what she's done for her. Yes, she'll save them. That's what friends did for one another. Saved each other from making drastic mistakes.
A/N: So yes, I had Stefonnie get a legal divorce. In Indiscretion I said their marriage was no longer valid since Stefan had been declared dead. I'm not a lawyer so take the legalities in this fic with a grain of salt lol. I just love plot bunnies. Also note this is what happened three months from the ending of Indiscretion. I'll be spending a chapter or two more in the past before getting things caught back up in the future. So you're gonna have to wait a lil while longer for a yea or nah on the pregnancy. Hope you still love me. Thanks so much for reading!