Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

Author's Note: I just wanted to say thank you for all your kind reviews. This is a long and emotional chapter. Hopefully, there'll be better times ahead… Enjoy!

ELENA'S ESCAPE

~ Confessions ~

Elena arrived at the boarding house at the same time Damon did.

"Kat, please, can we talk about this?" Damon said as he got out of his car.

"There's nothing to talk about. Leave me alone," Elena said and ran inside and up the stairs.

"Kat!"

"Hey, what's going on?" Zach came out of the kitchen, a dish towel in his hands.

"Stay out of it, Zach."

"Katherine's a sweet girl. I don't know what's going on between the two of you, but you need to back off. A girl running away from you is a pretty sure sign that she's not interested."

"You're right. You don't know."

"Damon, listen. She's clearly upset. Your attitude right now isn't helping."

"Fine. I'm going to bed."

Elena slammed her bedroom door shut behind her. Her pulse was racing and her heart was pounding so hard she couldn't hear anything else. She leaned against the door and slowly sank to the floor, burying her face in her hands. She was overreacting, she knew she was. Damon had been nothing but kind to her, and yet… oh, she had to talk to someone about this. But she couldn't. No-one could know. As her breathing slowed, a thought came to her. Elena rose from the floor and went over to the bed, searching the nightstand drawers for something to write on. She found a note pad and a pen and began scribbling down her thoughts.

I haven't kept a diary in years, probably not since high school, and I'm not about to start now. I heard on some self-help talk show once – while he was at work – that you could relieve your anxiety by writing down your troublesome thoughts and then burning the pages, as a way to get things out of your mind. So, I have every intention of getting rid of what I'm writing now, if for no other reason than I can't risk anyone reading it.

I've freaked out on Damon twice now. The reason I cut my hair was so that every memory of Kyle would disappear along with it. He would always say he loved my hair, run his fingers through it when we were in bed together, and grab it as he slammed my face into the wall. When Damon touched my hair in that lecture hall, I heard Kyle's voice. Then tonight, when he grabbed Tyler, I saw the aggression that I… that was a part of the attraction… that drew me to Kyle in the first place. When we first started going out, he was so sweet and gentlemanlike, he would open doors for me and order for me at restaurants. I thought it was romantic, even though a small part of me said that I was losing my identity by letting him make choices for me. When we went out, guys would hit on me, and Kyle would intimidate them. I thought it was romantic, the way he stood up for me. If someone made a lewd remark, Kyle would beat them up. I thought he was protecting my honor, or something like that. I didn't realize that he saw me as his property. I didn't realize that he wanted to be the only one to treat me like dirt.

Elena didn't realize she was crying until her tears hit the paper and the ink blotted. She wiped her face and scrunched up the paper. She would have to burn it or dump it in the trash where no-one would find it. Maybe she could shred it and flush it down the toilet? Or would it clog? Elena decided to give it a go.

When Elena woke up the following morning and checked her reflection in the mirror, she flinched at the sight of her puffy eyes from crying herself to sleep. After a round with concealer and powder, she felt prepared to face the public, so to speak. After all the years of covering up bruises, she had become quite the expert. She took a deep breath before leaving the bathroom. She had two options. Either she find herself a new place of residence or she would be forced to explain herself to Damon. Elena settled on the latter option. She racked her brain for a believable explanation but couldn't come up with a plausible story. She decided to tell the truth, or a slight variation of it. Lies that lay close to the truth are, after all, the easiest to remember.

When she entered the Salvatore kitchen, Damon was already at the table, nursing a cup of coffee. Their eyes met as she froze in the doorway. She opened her mouth to speak, but then heard the sizzling from the stove. She looked over and saw Zach, with his back turned, frying eggs and bacon.

"Uh… good morning," Elena said.

"Good morning," Zach said, casting a look over his shoulder. "Have a seat. You like bacon and eggs?"

"Um… that'd be great. Thanks."

Damon and Elena sat in awkward silence until Zach served them breakfast and excused himself. As soon as he was out of earshot, they spoke at once.

"I'm sorry…"

"I'm sorry…"

They chuckled at themselves. Damon went first. "I don't know what came over me last night. You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to. You were right, you don't know me. It was stupid of me to think that you would open up to me about… well, whatever it is that's bothering you. But… I hope… if I'm making you uncomfortable, please let me know. It's not my intention."

"I overreacted. You reminded me of someone… someone I used to know. He was my first boyfriend and he kinda messed me up. I… it's not something I like to talk about. It was a long time ago, but…"

"How long ago?" Damon said after a moment of silence, a hint of doubt in his voice.

"Years and years," Elena said casually, taking a bite out of her breakfast.

"Huh," Damon snorted.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Listen, if you don't want to tell me what happened, that's fine. Just don't make up lies, ok?" Damon said, rising from the table.

"Damon, I wasn't…"

"Forget it. I'm gonna go do some research for my next class, so I'll see you later."

Elena sighed and cleared her plate. She'd lost her appetite. She was just about to leave when she walked right into Damon.

"Sorry."

"Sorry."

"Yeah… listen… I'm sorry. I don't know why I was so insensitive just now, I…"

"It's fine, Damon."

"It's just… Caroline told Matt that…"

"She told you she saw bruises on me," Elena deducted.

"Yeah."

"Didn't she also tell him I fell down a flight of stairs?"

"Yes…"

"And you think I'm lying about that because…?"

"We're just concerned, is all."

"Well, like I told you before, I can take care of myself, and I don't appreciate being called a liar."

"Katherine…"

"I'm late for work," Elena said and hurried out the door.

No, she didn't like it when people called her a liar, especially when it was true. What was she thinking, running off and expecting to become this whole other person? She wasn't 'Katherine', she was Elena, and every time someone called her that, it felt like a piece of the real Elena died. Then she reminded herself that for all intents and purposes, Elena Gilbert was dead. The real Elena Gilbert died years ago, in fact. She died the day she said yes to Kyle. 'Katherine' was who she was now. And 'Katherine' had no problem deceiving the people around her.

Both Friday and Saturday meant busy nights at the Grill, and with Lexi still out sick, Elena was pulling double-duty. When she went to bed Saturday night, she relished in the fact that she would be able to sleep in the next day. Then she remembered Damon was supposed to teach her how to drive on Sunday, which was enough to ruin her sleep. She had successfully avoided him since their small row in the kitchen, but now she would be stuck with him all day.

When she woke up on Sunday morning, she hoped Damon had forgotten about her, but when she made her way downstairs, she realized that was not the case.

"Mornin', sleepyhead," he smiled as she entered the kitchen. "Coffee?"

"Yes, please," Elena said, walking up to the counter and taking the cup from him.

"Did you forget we had a date?" Damon teased.

"If you're talking about the driving lesson, then no, I didn't."

"Good. So, finish your coffee and we'll hit the road."

"I'm gonna need more than coffee to start my day on," Elena objected.

"No worries. I packed a picnic. We'll have brunch after your first lesson."

When Elena got outside, Damon was waiting in the passenger seat of his car. "Come on, get in," he said, "the keys are in the ignition."

Elena hesitated, but got into the driver's seat.

"First things first, put your seatbelt on. Now…"

Damon really had teaching in his blood, and Elena found it easy to follow his instructions. As they slowly cruised along the country road leading away from the center of town, Elena felt more and more confident with driving. It didn't hurt that Damon was constantly encouraging her, telling her she was doing great, that she was a natural. As they approached a small crossing, Damon told her to turn the blinkers on and make a right. The right turn led them onto a small gravel road and Elena went even slower.

"Ok, you're coming up to a turning area, you can pull over riiiight there," he pointed to a spot which might have been a parking space if it had been marked as such. "Just let the car come to a stop, just like we practiced before we left… that's it… good job."

"Now what?" Elena turned to him when the engine died down.

"Now… we get to eat. Come on, let's go." Damon got out of the car and popped the trunk, getting out a blanket and picnic basket.

Elena looked around the gravel pitch. "Where?"

"I'll show you. Now, come on," Damon said, heading into the woods, following one of the trails.

After what seemed like forever, they came upon a clearing with a waterfall as a backdrop.

"Wow!" Elena said, admiring the beauty of the water crashing down and foaming at the bottom of the cliff.

"Yeah, pretty spectacular, huh? It's how Mystic Falls got its name, and why tourists still come here," Damon said and laid down the blanket. "There are actually several waterfalls around here, but this one's my favorite."

Elena sat down on the blanket, still mesmerized by the water. "So what makes it mystical?"

"Huh?"

"Mystic Falls. I see the waterfall, but what's mystic about it?"

"It's a legend," Damon said and sat down.

"Tell me about it," Elena said, curious.

"It is said that if you bring your true love here during a full moon, and make love, you will be forever blessed with good luck and healthy and prosperous children."

"Does it work?"

"There has been many children conceived here, but I haven't heard of anyone living happily ever after."

"Maybe it wasn't their true love they were with."

"Perhaps."

"Did you ever bring someone here? Under a full moon, I mean?"

"I haven't found true love yet. I doubt such a thing even exists."

"I would have thought… I mean, the way you spoke in class…"

"That I'm a hopeless romantic? Maybe so. But romance isn't always about happy endings. Some of the greatest love stories do not have what you would call happy endings. There's beauty in tragedy, as well, you know."

"How so?"

"We often mistake passion and lust for love, but those are selfish emotions. Selfishness does not leave room for love. Great writers tell us that time and time again. A character driven by selfishness can never find peace or love. Passion makes for a great romance story, but the moral is always – and always will be – that there is no happy ending for the wicked. Take Heathcliff, for example. His love for Catherine consumed them both, destroying anything and everyone that came in its path. The Phantom, in Gaston Leroux's novel, lets his infatuation with Christine consume him, making it impossible for her to choose him as he threatens all that she holds dear in exchange for her hand. Othello let his jealousy and his insecurities corrupt his love for Desdemona, made him see things that were not true and ultimately destroyed her and himself in the process."

"So you don't believe in true love?"

"I believe that if two people can be completely honest with each other and love each other for what they truly are, then yes, I believe that is true love."

"You said at the bar that you always tell the truth. Was that true?"

"Yes. At least I try to. I have ever since… ever since I saw what terrible harm lies can do."

"When was that?"

"I was about ten, I think, when my father left. He had lied to my mother for years, cheated on her with countless women. When she finally confronted him about it, he lied some more, told her she was being ridiculous and that he couldn't stand to stay with a woman who didn't trust him. I watched it eat away at her – his lies. When she died, she was void of emotion. He stole that from her."

"And that's why you hate lies so much."

"That's part of the reason, yes."

"Is there another?"

"I told you I have a brother, right?"

"Yes, you did."

"Well… we haven't spoken in years. There was this girl… she was incredible. Vibrant, passionate, beautiful. But she was also selfish and ruthless. She was the kind of girl who went after what she wanted – and didn't stop until she got it. Well, as it turned out, she wanted me – and my brother. I was away at college – they didn't have the courses I wanted to take in Mystic Falls at the time - but I would come home on weekends and she would come to the boarding house to stay with me. She had it all so perfectly worked out. My brother was still in high school, and he was on the football team. They had away-games on weekends. She would spend week nights with him, and the weekends with me."

"And Zach never noticed?"

"My brother would go to her house. As far as Zach knew, she was my girlfriend who visited on weekends."

"How did you figure it out?"

"Well, one weekend, while she was at the house, my brother got injured in one of his games and came home early. Imagine all of our surprise when he saw us having breakfast together."

"What did you do?"

"I told her I never wanted to see her again and I went back to college and stopped coming home on weekends. My brother finished high school and moved away."

"But if neither of you knew…"

"Why haven't I talked to my brother in all these years? Well, because he forgave her. He stayed with her even after he found out."

"They're still together?"

"No, she ended it. She met some guy and took off."

"Oh." Elena fiddled with a grass straw, contemplating what he had just told her.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bum you out. It's a beautiful day, we should enjoy it. Here," he opened the lid on the picnic basket and took out a number of different sandwiches, "go ahead."

Elena ate without much appetite. The flavors would usually have pleased her palate, but it all felt bland in comparison with the tangy taste of guilt in her mouth.

Damon noticed her vacant expression. "You ok?"

Elena snapped out of her musings and looked up at him. "You were right before… I was lying. And I hate it."

"Ok…"

"I want to be honest with you, especially since you've been so open with me, but there are things I just can't talk about."

"That's fine. You don't owe me anything."

"If… if I tell you a part of the story… can I trust you not to say anything? To anyone?"

"I won't tell anyone, I promise. But you don't have to…"

"The truth is, I don't know for how long I can keep this bottled up inside before I explode. I… I need to tell someone."

"Your secret's safe with me. If it will help you, I'd be honored to be that someone."

Elena took a deep breath, bracing herself. "Ok, here goes… I met… this guy… when I was a senior in high school. He was older than me, a college guy. Everything about him was exciting. I was the envy of all my girlfriends. He was strong, confident, determined. He was so protective of me, so attentive. When I graduated, he asked me to move in with him. I was so in love with him, I would have done anything he asked just so I could be with him. I wanted to start college right after high school, but he had just graduated and wanted to travel for a year before he went into the family business. College could wait another year, right? So I went with him. We were in Paris when he asked me to marry him. I said yes. This gorgeous, successful, strong man wanted to marry me. I couldn't believe my luck. When we got back, we moved into this gorgeous beach house. In the time I'd been gone, all of my old friends had moved away. He didn't get along with my family, and after awhile, I just…"

"He isolated you from them," Damon said.

"Yes. I tried making new friends, but he said he wanted me all to himself. I thought it was romantic, at first. I started talking about going back to college or getting a job, just because I was bored, sitting alone in that house all day. He… wouldn't hear of it. No wife of his should ever have to work, and colleges are full of frat guys and parties, and it wasn't an appropriate environment for someone of my social standing. I told him he was being ridiculous. That was the first time he hit me. I should have walked out the door that very same day. But I didn't. I was… shocked, I guess. I wasn't someone whose husband hit her. That wasn't me. So when he came back with flowers and apologized, I was more than happy to tell myself that it had all been a misunderstanding. He never meant to hurt me. He was under a lot of pressure at work and he was a passionate man, he got caught up in the moment. It was one of those things that drew me to him in the first place, how protective he was, how he would beat up any guy who even looked at me the wrong way. I was his… and I saw that possessiveness as something positive. He loved me so much he just couldn't bear the thought of another man touching me."

Damon nodded in understanding. When he threatened Tyler Lockwood at the bar, she saw her husband. Damon waited patiently for her to go on.

"I spent years with him – too many – and his control over me became greater with each passing day. I didn't have friends. I would meet people, of course, business associates or potential clients and their wives at parties. My sole job was to keep up appearances, to sell my husband's image as a successful business man and loving husband. On the surface, we were the perfect couple. Our house was spotless. It had to be. I became an expert at stain removal. Do you know how hard it is to get blood out of a carpet? Or off the wall? I could go into the crime scene cleanup business for all the experience I've had." Elena shook her head. It all sounded so surreal. Like a lifetime ago.

"I never knew what mood he would be in when he came home at night. Even if he was in a good mood, that could all change in an instant. The 'sorry, honey, I have a headache because you slammed my head into the wall' excuse wasn't exactly an option." Elena took a bite out of her sandwich and a sip of water out of the bottle.

"I stayed with him because I was afraid. I tried to leave once, and he made sure I wouldn't make that mistake again. He spread the word to some of his friends that I was suffering from depression and that the medication I was on was causing hallucinations and paranoia. He painted himself out to be the doting husband who struggled with supporting his neurotic wife in every way possible. He made me a promise that if I ever tried to leave him, he would have my family killed. When… " No, she had promised to tell the truth. She couldn't say that her family died in a fire. Thankfully, she didn't have to. Damon drew his own conclusions.

"When you lost your family, he didn't have any leverage left," he concluded, "so you were free."

Elena simply took another bite of her sandwich, hoping he wasn't expecting a confirmation.

"I am so sorry, Katherine," Damon said, his voice and eyes filled with compassion and sincerity.

Elena blinked away tears. "So now you know," she shrugged. "But please, promise me you won't breathe a word of this to anyone. I don't want people to look at me with pity. I just want to move on with my life – and actually live it."

"I promise."

"Thank you. And I'm sorry I unloaded all this on you, I just…"

"I'm glad you did."

"I just… I don't want you to treat me differently. I don't want you to feel like you need to walk on egg shells around me. I actually enjoy our banter. Even when we argue, I'm not afraid of you, not really. I'm not afraid to get into an argument with you. Do you know how huge that is for me? I could never tease my husband, I could never tell him to leave me alone. I was too afraid. I don't want to lose that, as crazy as it sounds. If you get frustrated with me, then let me know. I won't break. I might even be stronger for it."

"Let me get this straight – you want me to yell at you?"

"No, I want you to not hold back with me."

"So… I can be angry with you… I can tell you you're being stubborn or whatever…" Damon pretended to contemplate something, idly tugging on a grass straw. "Can I tell you that I think you're amazing?" he looked up at her, his blue eyes meeting her doe brown ones.

"I…"

"Can I tell you I admire your strength and your wit?" he inched closer.

"I…"

"Can I tell you… I think I'm falling in love with you?" he whispered in her ear, his breath a soft caress on her skin.

Elena flew off the blanket. "You don't even know me!"

"Katherine, I didn't…" Damon scrambled to his feet.

"Forget it," she said, holding up a hand. "We should be getting back."

"Ok," Damon agreed, gathering their things and following her back to the car.

Author's Note: I didn't go into details on the actual driving lesson, because to tell the truth, I don't know how to drive. My one and only driving lesson literally consisted of my dad telling me "there's the clutch, there's the gas, there's the brake, here are the keys" – I am so not even kidding... In his defense, I did know how to drive a tractor, and I didn't have to drive on the road.