CHAPTER 11 – THE REAPING
-Elena-
Something feels strange in this house.
It's hard to put my finger on it really, even more difficult to try and explain, but with Stefan being so distant with me since I got home and this oddness making me feel on edge, I almost gave up on my Sorry I'm such an insecure B* sometimes plan.
I was dedicated – I was going to push through with it because I know Stefan… just ignore the smile on my face when I think of the fact that it doesn't take much on my part to move him from terribly angry to kissing and holding me, but after carefully shaving my legs and applying the Ralph Lauren Romance lotion that he loves, flat-brush drying my hair, and applying just the slightest bit of mascara, I opened the bathroom door to find him sitting in the leather arm chair by the window with his head down.
Wearing the softest, sheerest, off-white Le Peril lingerie that I've ever purchased -with navy blue lace in just the right places to keep me from basically being naked - I was playing it cool as I came out of the bathroom and gave my best I'm confident walk to the closet to put my satin dress that Allie must have gotten down and Stefan doesn't even look up.
A little frustrated, a little fuming, I stayed in the closet for a long moment before deciding to come into the kitchen and regroup.
It's more than just Stefan deciding to hold onto his frustration with me longer than he usually would – I mean, I did leave town for more than a full day without even telling him bye – but it's something else... maybe going from a much-too-full house to back to us is what's making everything seem odd.
He's got a scratch on his face and his arms look like he had a difficult time with the repairs, but I get the sense that he was pretty angry with me skipping out when I spot the picture frame that held Allie & Grayson's photo from the Cherry Blossom festival in pieces in the kitchen trash can. He can get a bit of a temper sometimes... many'a cell phones have seen their last moments in the strong hands of Stefan Salvatore. Ha!
Damon has called a few times, but I can't talk to him – I won't. Bonnie and Jeremy are still in the air, I imagine, but Caroline called to let us know that she and Klaus made it home safely. A sign that Stefan's pretty pissed off – she asked so speak with him and he just shook his head at me and went into the garage. I can't think of a single time in the past two years where he's not spoke with Caroline when she's called. He's been like that all day – one word answers or nodding his head instead of speaking, staying busy as to keep some distance between us - so I know I've got some work to do.
After drinking a glass of water and daydreaming for a bit about his wonderful, talented hands, I've recommitted myself to the plan – after all, I am the one who lost my cool and I'm the one who disappeared for an overnight trip – so I start out to the laundry room to get the silly gift I had made for him when I notice a gash in the wall to the right of the refrigerator. It's not huge, maybe an inch wide and thin, but sure enough… there's yet another hole in the wall and I'm reminded of Caroline's cut on her face and Klaus' blow up.
I never would have thought it possible, but in just three days our dream home was nearly destroyed.
-Damon-
It's more of a sigh tied with a whine when I say into the receiver, "Would you just call me back, Katherine? I'm not going to keep up with this, so call me, okay?"
God, I sound like such a pussy-whipped bitch, don't I? I've been calling Katherine to apologize for an argument that I can't even remember what it was about. And I've been calling Elena to apologize for something I did like ten years ago and can't really remember why I did it at all.
Stefan seems to think Elena will come around, but who gets over knowing someone left their parents to die? I guess if there is anyone who could possibly be good enough to do something like that, it would be Elena.
She's not really my problem right now though – by now, I'm sure she and Stefan are back to living their lives while I'm stuck in this rat-hole hotel. Katherine just kept dragging her fucking feet yesterday – I think we stopped for the restroom maybe seven times in a ninety minute trip. When we missed our flight, yea I was pretty pissed – maybe I laid into her about it a bit hard, but she and I have gone rounds against each other much worse and that lasted much longer and she didn't storm off for going on twelve hours!
I'm actually just about to hit the 'dial' button on my phone to call the lobby and find out how to contact the local police when I hear the hotel key slip into the lock. In a split second, now that I know she's okay, I go from nervously shaking my leg and tapping my thumb against the bedside table to cold as stone.
Katherine walks in without even looking at me, her hair all around her face blocking my view as she walks directly into the bathroom.
It pisses me off even worse – coming in here like she doesn't owe me any kind of an apology at all after leaving me stranded in this piece of shit town in this piece of shit country and she just walks in and goes to take a shower. Fuck no.
I'm going to confront her about it! I'm up and at the bathroom door in less than a second, but when I go to pull it open, the fucking thing is locked.
"Open the door, Katherine." I groan, pounding my fist on it a few times.
I hear the shower curtain move on the metal rod, then her annoyed tone, "I'll be out in a minute, Damon!"
"Where were you!?" I sound more worried than I'd hoped, but figure the noise of the water and the door separating us probably helped cover my concern. Katherine and I aren't the kind of couple that gets worried about one another or does a lot of public affection… hell, if you didn't know that she and I were together, we'd probably look like a couple of pissed off people that just happen to be sitting at the same table or watching the same movie.
After a long, drawn out, dramatic sigh, she gives her best leave me the fuck alone voice when she says in a sarcastic coo – "I said, I'll be out in a minute darling!"
Thirty minutes later, I'm sitting on the edge of the bed and facing away from the bathroom, seething and ready to fight with her when I hear the door open - seconds later I feel her hands sliding down my chest and her breasts pressing against my back and her lips against my neck. "I like it when you worry about me." She teases me and as much as I want to be pissed, I'm weak against her.
Really, I'd half expected her to call me and tell me she'd kidnapped Allie and G' and we were going to run away with them – so her showing up half a day later and spending a long while in the shower isn't that bad…
I turn to meet her lips with mine, kiss her once, twice, then pull away.
"I wasn't worried." I lie.
Katherine inspects my face for a moment, giving me that beautiful smile that tells me she knows I'm full of shit, then kisses me again before saying right against my lips, "I'm ovulating for a few more hours." In the same way someone might say something naughty or perfectly indecent.
The sexiest woman in the world – literally the most alluring girl I've ever met and this is what she and I have become… I guess I shouldn't have been too worried. She's ovulating. Of course she'd be back before we missed yet another chance to have some disconnected sex and fail at conceiving.
Still, I don't balk and before she has a chance to change her mind, I lay back and she – completely naked, mind you… the same goddess body that I spent a century craving – climbs over me, flinging her long, wet hair to the side as she leans over to kiss me again.
At first I think it's a shadow, this strange color on her neck – blotchy and a deep shade of purple and red. My hands grab her face too hard and too quickly and she winces from my touch.
"What the fuck, Katherine?" I ask, turning her head to the side as I examine the bruises. I feel an overwhelming rush of adrenaline go through me; anger and rage – a impulse to destroy something, anything, whatever did this to her.
"It's nothing." She sighs first, but I turn her head to the other side and I swear to God I see the shape of hand in the welts. I'm burning, furious, but Katherine jerks her head away from me and gives a much more stern, "It's nothing, Damon."
"Nothing!? It looks like someone fucking strangled you!" I sit up, forcing her to move back a bit, now on my lap and rolling her eyes at me like I'm an idiot.
"It's an allergic reaction."
"To someone's fucking hands around your throat?" I snap. Try as I might to look at her face, my eyes are unable to leave her neck – something about that purple-red rimmed in green is keeping me from being able to look away.
"I had some kind of mushroom soup for lunch and like two hours later, I look like this." Katherine drags her hair to one side, leaning her head back a bit so I can see better. "That's where I've been… at the emergency room."
I've strangled a few people in my life… Why would she lie? If someone really did try to hurt her, she'd tell me because she's vengeful and she knows I'd kill them or die trying… still, those bruises… it's just too familiar.
"Damon, come on." Taking my face in her hands, she gives me a deep, yet somehow still sexy frown, "We've only got a few more hours to try and make this month the month."
I guess I feel sorry for her looking like she's been nearly killed, so I don't let my thoughts escape my mouth like I normally would – I can't help but think how useless this is, our trying. But Katherine looks hopeful and, honestly, I wouldn't turn her down for any reason. Like she sees me give in, Katherine smiles and kisses me once, sweetly, before kissing me again and we give this month a good ol' useless fucking try.
-Elena-
"I got you something." I say through a nervous smile – even the frequency we share feels dreary as I walk back into the bedroom and find him now standing with his arms crossed, leaning against the door frame that leads out to the deck.
The breeze brings that unique Stefan scent to me as I breathe… calming me a bit.
Stefan doesn't turn to face me, but I see his back expand with a heavy inhale and I imagine he must be giving a sigh at my feeble attempt at making things right. Still, I unfold the light blue 'Virginia is for Lovers' tee shirt – a pun on both where we met and where we're moving – and say, "It's kind of cheesy, but if anyone can make this shirt look hot, it's my husband."
I hold it up for what seems like a good half of a minute while he stares out to the ocean and I stare at the back of his head. Finally, I huff and wad the shirt up a bit. I say his name through a frown and it comes out even whinier than I'd hoped. To try and off-set my tone, I say in a half-beg, "Please, I don't want you to be mad at me."
Turning his head towards me first, his body slowly following, I get my first good look at his face since I got out of the shower and I know something is terribly wrong. Without looking up at me, his eyes somewhere near my feet, he presses his lips together tightly, swallows hard – I notice his lips tremble a bit when he opens his mouth to speak.
"Elena…" My name nearly gets stuck in his throat and my knees feel like they're about to give. This Stefan is the most terrifying of them all – I've seen him at his darkest, lost in a haze of blood. But even then he was strong and controlled and solid. I have a sudden fear that my world is about to crumble just by how his brow is furrowed up and those perfect lips on his face shine a bright red from the way he bites at them when he's upset. I go through a quick inventory in my mind – like lightening I check off all of my loved ones whereabouts, starting with Allie and Grayson and ending with Pepper, Robert, and Jennifer.
I want to ask him what? I want him to stop looking like that and uncross his arms and wipe the wetness from his beautiful green eyes and I want him to come and pull me against his body – where I'm safe – I want to ask him what is the matter, but all I can manage is a nearly silent, "Stefan?"
If I had the ability to break out of this paralysis I'm in I'd go to him and I'd hold his face and pull his bottom lip from his teeth. I'd kiss his mouth and hold him until his chin stopped that barely-there shaking – but I can't move… I'm barely breathing at all when Stefan's dark, shining-wet eyes finally find mine.
I think, this must be what he looked like as a child, just a boy, frightened and shamed when he says, "You're going to leave me."
No. Nothing could make me leave you, Stefan. I love you.
That's what I want to come out of my mouth… my half open, dry-throat mouth. But there's no sound escaping my lips because I'm not breathing and I know he's not finished.
"Katherine," Clenching his jaw, Stefan rubs his forehead roughly with his hand, runs his fingers through his hair and shakes his head, "She was… I." I watch my good, moral, unbreakable husband tighten his arms over his chest like he does when he feels vulnerable… or guilty. I see heavy tears fall from his jawline and fade into his light brown shirt.
"You what, Stefan?" My voice comes loud from my throat and I feel my hands begin to shake with a strange mixture of fear and anger. The longer he stands there shaking his head the worse it gets and before I know it I've crossed the distance between us and I feel my hands pushing at him. I push him so hard, it feels like I've used every ounce of strength in my body but he only takes a step back onto the deck and steadies himself. I think I hear him apologizing to me in this long run-on sentence as he cries – Elena, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened. I'm sorry, please Elena –but I'm confused and don't know what he's talking about or I know and just need to hear it from his mouth that has never lied to me. "What! What did you do, Stefan!" I growl through gritted teeth as salty tears roll over my shaking lips and into my mouth. "What did you do!?"
"I-" He starts to speak again, but I need to see his eyes.
Interrupting him, I'm still nearly yelling, "Look at me!"
My beautiful Stefan, with his Roman face and honest, emerald eyes looks right into my narrowed brown, that voice that I've loved since I was just a teenager – from the moment it floated into my ears sounds deeper and rougher and more raw that I can ever remember as he destroys us. "I slept with Katherine."
I hit him. I hit him right in the face with my open hand against his tear-stained skin… so hard that my hand stings like it's on fire and the sound echoes off of the opened windows and Stefan stands there with tears running down his face and absorbs it like I'm nothing… I am nothing.
So many questions and curse words and insults crowd from my mind into my throat and I feel like I'm chocking on them – stepping away from him until I feel the rail of the deck against my back and the further away I get the more my husband looks like a stranger.
Ok, so I've been insecure and scared that Stefan would grow tired of my average body and my average looks and my average intelligence and my average everything, but did I really think that Stefan Salvatore would ever cheat? On anyone? No. He's the most moral man I've ever known – that's ever been. No. No. No. "No."
"Elena, I'm so sorry. I don't know how it happened." Again, I cut him off. I can't stand the sound of his voice that I once believed was the only truthful thing in the world.
"Shut up." I'm trying to sound tough, but I'm sobbing and the words are just a hissed whisper.
Biting at his lips, Stefan does as he always has and listens to my words like their biblical – "How could you?" I start crying harder and my voice is quivering and I swear I wish I could fall into that ocean behind me and drown. "How could you do this to us?"
I close my eyes to try and get myself together but I'm flooded with images of Katherine and Stefan – Stefan's hands on her body and her mouth on his mouth and her lips saying his name and his tongue licking her neck and her legs around his body and his chest against her chest and his eyes looking into her eyes and I'm so dizzy and nauseated that I feel myself nearly fall down. I open my eyes to find Stefan moving to help steady me and it angers me even more – this stranger that looks so much like the man I've loved through everything and who's loved me like I never knew was even possible and I want to hurt him. I want to hurt this man and I want to scream at him and I guess I've lost all self-control because I slap him once and then hit his chest with the other hand and before I know it I'm hitting and punching and slapping and again he's absorbing it and I'm screaming at him and then I'm so tired that I fall to my knees and cry into my hands at the feet of this repulsive man that I love so badly it's physically painful as it's ripped away from me.
"Elena, I'm so-" I feel his hand touch my back and our frequency flow through me and I hate him for what he's done to us and to our family and I hate this Goddamn gravity for invading me right now.
Moving away from him, I slap his arm away from me and look right up into his face as I scream at him, "Get away from me! Don't touch me!"
Stefan looks shocked or scared, maybe, I'm not sure as I don't know him anymore and honestly I don't want to care about how he feels as I watch him back away from me. I keep my eyes on him until he's a good fifteen feet away, heading down the stairs of the dock. I hear him when he apologizes again, tells me he's sorry and he doesn't know how it happened, but I just want him to leave me alone so I don't respond and the moment he's far enough away for that damn gravity to ease off of me I fold over onto my knees and cry into my hands like a child… loud sobs, mourning my perfect family and my perfect marriage and grieving for the love of my life.
I can't tell you how long I spend like that – Mentally suspended in this web of clarity and confusion, on my knees, gently swaying back and forth as the breeze cut through my thin cotton gown and the temperature fell as the night passed. I almost believed that I was almost enough for him. Such a fool… so stupid of me to believe that just a girl from Virginia would be able to hold his attention for a lifetime. So stupid of me to believe that his love for me isn't intertwined with his love for Katherine…
At some point I stopped crying – out of tears, I guess – and I just sat there missing the Stefan that I knew before I left for Bangkok. I want that Stefan to come and rescue me from this nightmare… I want my Stefan who would never hurt me and who had given his life for me on more than one occasion, the Stefan that whispered lyrics into my ear as he held me in the dark and the Stefan that I could feel looking at me from across a crowded room like I was the most stunning woman he'd ever laid eyes on.
I miss him, and I miss my mom, and I need someone to talk to but already know what Bonnie would say if I called her… egging me on to leave him, pack up and come back to Mystic Falls. It's what I should do, right? It's what any woman with even an ounce of self-respect would do… right? Just the thought makes me tremble… like someone is threatening to pull my soul from my body.
And I know what I'd get from Caroline… biased as she is.
So when I go into the kitchen and grab my phone, I stare at it for a long while as I try my best to get my thoughts in line, then call the only person I know I can trust to listen to me without judgment or advice.
The phone begins to ring and I don't bother with finding an actual seat, sliding down the wall and collapsing right in the cold tiled floor when she answers – her voice is light and confident, warm like a blanket to my very shaken nerves.
"Pepper?" I sniffle – trying my best to not sound like I've just lost my… ? My… my everything.
Her laugh is wonderful and it makes me smile, but that tiny bit of emotion escaping opens me up again and I'm crying before I can even attempt holding it back.
-Stefan-
I wish I could disappear – vanish into thin air – burn in this fire.
I wish I wouldn't have drank that gin.
I wish I wouldn't have let Elena pretend to sleep instead of going through the motions of the ridiculous argument we had the night before she left to take Bonnie and Jeremy to the airport.
I've been sitting out here for God knows how long - regretting so many choices I've made. I built a fire because I can't imagine Elena letting me back in the house and it's getting cooler with each passing hour. I've gone through six pieces of wood and lost my sense of time, regretting everything from agreeing to have that 'reunion' of Elena's friends, to the very first time I left Elena… just a couple weeks after we'd met when I was trying to keep from turning this sweet, innocent, beautiful girl into nothing more than rubble in the destruction that followed me… follows me.
I kept it away from her, for the most part, for eight years… I managed my blood lust, my anger, fought to my death for her, loved her for years even when I'd been compelled away from her… and one night, with one mistake, all of that is worthless.
I can't get her face out of my head – the way she looked at me, just pure betrayal. How many times have I swore to her that I'd never hurt her? How many times have I lied? All this time I'm thinking I'm some good guy just with a bad string of luck and dark aggression, when the truth is I'm sickening. I'm disgusting. I'm vile… I cheated on my wife.
I'd decided before Katherine even left that I was not going to try and swing this in my preference – I had sex with Katherine. I made the mistake of letting my guard down. I didn't pay enough attention to what I was doing to miss the lack of that feeling I share with Elena… so I was not going to try and make this seem like less of a crime by starting with I thought it was you. I did. I swear on my life I thought she was Elena, but looking back at it now, I should've picked up on the fifty+ signs that could've clued me in to the ruse.
I just… I wanted it to be Elena. I wanted her to come home. I wanted her to be standing in the doorway. I wanted Elena to forgive me for my pause with Katherine and I wanted her to let that stupid argument go. Honestly, it's churning my stomach to think of what I missed – the aggression from Katherine, the way she moved, the way she kissed. What's worse, the longer I spend thinking about it the worse I feel because I was enjoying it… a lot.
Trying to get her out of my head, I lay back on the lounger and press my palms into my eyes until it's painful enough to clear my brain – holding the pressure for a long moment, letting this loathsome feeling really settle into my bones before I move my hands and I'm hit with that chest pressure push/pull.
I don't dare move. I know she hates me. But I love Elena and even with the fact that she's no longer mine running through me like poison, I'm so happy to feel her.
The fire light catches her skin and she's just, she's so stunningly beautiful – moving past me without looking at me and sitting in the lounger to my left. She's wrapped up in a blanket and sitting near the fire but still, she shivers.
It's the wrong time, I know, but I love her.
I watch her for a long while, caught up in the beauty of her hair gently moving with the wind and her red rimmed eyes still shining from the tears that wet her dark lashes. I should say something. I want to say something to make this right, to make it all go away… but there's nothing.
"I want to –" Swallowing hard, she adjusts inside of her blanket and sits Grayson's monitor in the sand beside her feet, her dark eyes reflecting the fire and staying far away from me. "I need to know what happened."
I nod. I don't want to relive this – for so many reasons, reasons that I'm sure you can guess and reasons that I'm ashamed of – but I'll do anything for her no matter the cost to me.
Elena pauses for a moment, then speaks as if she's reading the questions from an invisible list – very removed from the words. "How many times?" As I register her question I can't help but dread how long the list might be.
I'm not going to lie to her. I'll tell her anything she wants to know, but I'm not sure how to answer this. When the words come to my mouth I feel like I'm going to vomit, "Just last night… I don't know how many times."
Like I've just told her the most sickening thing you can imagine, Elena's face turns sour and I see her eyes attempt to cut over to me before she catches them – that feeling we share is as cold as ice, sharp and intense as it presses against my muscles.
"Where?" Again, Elena sounds detached from the words coming out of her chapped lips.
I lower my head as I troll through the memories, so incredibly ashamed. "In our bedroom. On the floor, in the bed." Those images are coming back and making me feel a thousand different things and I hate myself for how Elena's eyes have slowly closed and tears trail across her slightly-pouting lips. "Elena…"
"Why, Stefan?" The anger that I heard in her voice while in the house is gone. When she turns to look at me, her wet cheeks and wet lips and wet eyes still so incredibly beautiful, I want to die for what I've done to her. "Why would you do this to me? To our family?" Her voice breaks into me, resting my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands, I have to cover my face while I cry – I don't want her to feel concern for me. Elena is the most warm and compassionate soul I have ever known and I do not deserve her kindness. "This is all we've ever dreamt of. Being together, having a family…" She's crying hard now and I'm aching to go to her, but I'm the culprit, I'm the cause of her tears. "Why?"
Gutted by the sight of her crying, "I love you." I open my mouth that's what comes out. "Elena, I love you so much." I think I hear her huff at my confession and I think I should just stay quiet, but I keep talking. Rambling, spilling out everything that happened in a mess of unstructured and unintentional sentences. "I should have known. I should have felt what was missing but there you were and wearing that dress and telling me you wanted to forget about our argument. And Elena, I was so tired and I was drunk and I missed you all day. I was mad at you and I missed you and I wanted you to come home…" Trying to stop myself, I rub my hands over my face roughly, inhale deeply in hopes that the small pause will shut me up, but the moment my lungs are full I start up again. "Then there you were. I should have felt the difference, I know. I know I should've known, Elena. I always know the difference between you and her, but the timing made sense and she knew about our argument and she was in your clothes and I just let myself believe it was you."
"What?"
"I know. Elena, God…" I'm filled with some sudden adrenaline rush, a seething mix of reality setting in and the heaviness of the truth, the darkest place I've ever been. The flood of emotion brings me to my feet and I start to pace without realizing it, talking with my hands and my entire body tensed, ready to run or ready to break – I don't know. Like it's always been with Elena, once I start talking, opening up, I can't stop – it flows out of me and there's nothing I can do to fight it. "You have no idea how I hate myself for what I've done. I should have known it wasn't you. I don't want to be this man… And now I've lost you, I've lost everything. I've hurt you and I've lost you and Elena… Elena, I am so, so sorry."
When I turn back, crossing my half circle path for the third, maybe fourth time, Elena is standing now, looking at me like I've just lied to her – wide eyes, furrowed brow. Of course she doesn't believe me – how could she?
"…You should have known it wasn't me…" Her voice is small, her lips moving just enough to form the words.
"I know! This," I gesture between us , our frequency, the gravity of her that I could never resist. "what we have… the moment I woke up- I mean, Elena I hadn't even opened my eyes and I knew something was wrong… I felt it, I felt it missing and I saw this curl in her hair and…" Somehow, I've let myself forget that I nearly killed Katherine – twice! "Elena, oh God, it get's worse…"
"She was in my dress?"
"I lost it. I lost it, Elena, and I grabbed her by her throat and I wanted to kill her. I wanted her to die…" I can't stop talking and I can't get enough air and there's Elena looking at me like she can actually see me falling into pieces at her feet – confessing to her the truth of who I am. Violent and dark and completely nothing without her. "…and I would have, I would have done it if she wouldn't have hit me. I knew I'd lost you and I wanted her to die for ending us!"
Growing angry at what I've done and the trick Katherine pulled and the reality of all of this my voice is getting rougher and my fists are hurting as I want to destroy something – but at least I've stopped crying. "Then she starting bragging. Bragging to me about toying with you and ruining my phone and she threatened you." I'm shaking I'm so angry – ten times as angry as when I woke up with Katherine in my bed and yet, I feel Elena's hands take hold of mine, my eyes finding hers as I say, "She threatened you and I just… I…I tried to stab her. I did stab her! But right in the middle of me shoving the knife into her she tells me she might be pregnant so I stopped the best I could… I'd already cheated on you and I'd already nearly killed her, the least I could do is keep you from having to divorce a man who killed a pregnant woman… " Elena is shaking her head, her thumbs kneading into the tops of my hands. I look down at her hands holding my hands, then at her bottom lip captured between her teeth, finding those soft, endless eyes looking up at me like she's… happy? "What? What are you doing?' I ask, confused… the thought flies through my mind that this woman in front of me might be Katherine – with her half smile and that beautiful look in her eyes that does not fit this funeral of our relationship – but our gravity is huge like a wave, crashing down and overwhelming me, pulling me out of the haze of anger as Elena wraps her arms around me and turns her face into my neck, enveloping us in her blanket and the smell of her and the gravity.
"You thought she was me." She sighs right against my neck and my body reacts to her warm breath in that same sweet relief that her touch has always given me – clarity, release, contentment.
I know I shouldn't – of course I shouldn't touch her! – but my hands find her waist and I can't keep myself from pulling her against me, my fingers pressing against her skin and absorbing that electricity that I should've notice was missing when I touched Katherine.
-Elena-
The fire is nearly burned out, only a few flickering flames and the ember-orange glow of the remaining logs, but there is just enough light coming from it to reflect off of Stefan's golden wheat hair as my fingers trail through it rhythmically. My husband is beautiful when he sleeps... when Stefan's face is relaxed, his lips parted in this way, he's almost too beautiful for my heart to conceive. After talking through the entire situation, we found ourselves sitting next to the fire – his head laying low on my stomach and hand resting just inside of his button down shirt.
I can feel his heart beating against my fingertips, the warmth of his chest beneath my open hand. Stefan has been asleep for more than twenty minutes – I know by the gentle rhythm of his breath, shallow and slow like the efficient machine that is his body – but even in deep slumber he's holding tight to my hand as if he's afraid I won't be here when he wakes up. I told him over and over we're going to be okay, Stefan. I'm not leaving. I love you. It's not your fault. But, if you know my husband in the slightest bit, then you know how he absorbs blame almost by default. I've done my best to convince him that he has nothing to apologize for, as well as convince myself that this is not going to haunt me for the rest of my life… knowing he was with her in the same way he is with me. Katherine experienced my Stefan.
Don't get me wrong – I'm mad. I'm furious… I'm sickened by the thought of her touching him, of Katherine being in my bed and my husband making love to her, but how can I be mad at him? If it had been the other way around; me, somehow tricked into sleeping with… I guess, Damon is my equivalent of his Katherine – if the tables had been turned and it was me that was fooled into sleeping with someone else, it would be called rape. I'm not as noble as Stefan – if it were me in his shoes I'd be crying and upset, yes, but honestly, the thought of Stefan leaving me for it wouldn't have even crossed my mind. He'd be holding me and telling me I'd be okay and he'd help me through it… I'm too wracked by the very emotional night we've had to think too much about it, but the simple fact that Stefan truly thought I'd leave him tells me a great deal about how confident he is in my love for him.
I know he said that he didn't tell me that he thought Katherine was me when she showed up in my dress last night because he didn't want to try and 'avoid blame', but I wish he would have told me sooner atleast. Avoid blame – that's what he said… I don't know what she's up to and I know Stefan is having a hard time agreeing that he's a victim in this situation too, but she has once again violated him for her own gain. Just the thought of the pain she's caused him makes my stomach ache with a hatred that I have never felt before and I have to force myself to remain still as Stefan's head is in my lap and he needs rest. He needs to sleep. He needs to wake up in the morning and look at me and know that I meant what I said – I am not leaving him, I will never leave him.
I should have known better than to believe Stefan would cheat on me – just openly have a one night stand with her, or anyone for that matter. It was like coming up from drowning when I registered him saying he should have known it wasn't me, that she was in my dress, that he should have realized that our gravity was absent – and maybe he's right. Maybe he should have been paying more attention to those things, but why would he have been? We've spent the last two years without any guard up whatsoever… no threats in anyway. Being constantly on the defense is no longer our normal state. And on top of that, we've been living with our frequency for long that it's the gravity between us that has become normal – it's no longer shocking and sobering as it once had been. When being together was sparse and dangerous and never lasted for much longer than a night or two. Sometimes I forget that this feeling isn't commonplace because it's there when I wake up and it's there when I go to sleep and I feel Stefan every minute of every day… the thought makes me want to kiss his lips, perfectly shaped and rounded to fit against mine like a puzzle piece. Just hours ago, standing on the deck I'd seen the man that I know through and through fade away and turn into debris of what I believed he was. Then in just a few sentences, Stefan came back together. The man that loves me to no end, the man that can only sleep when he's touching me, the man that I've found looking at our children like any other man might look at diamonds or gold… My Stefan.
Can you imagine how differently this night might of turned out had I not called Pepper? I know she loves Stefan – of course she does, he saved her life when she was dying with cancer – but, in this entire world she's the closest thing that I have to a mother and the instant I started crying she acted the part with perfection.
I told her that he'd slept with Katherine – she knows all about their history, our history, everything. I told her that I wanted to leave, that I wanted to get away from him but I didn't know how or if I could even manage without him. I just wanted to go lay down in my bed and cry, but even my bed had been transformed into something disgusting. Pepper listened to me cry and complain and tell her that I wanted to run away… Then do that. Go to bed. Sleep in the extra bedroom and stay in there all night long. But when the sun rises you get out of that bed and you put on your clothes and you stand up straight and you move on. You keep going, Elena. Deciding what you want to do about this tonight is a bad idea as no decisions made out of anger or hurt ever turn out the way you hope – so you wallow it in tonight but when morning comes, you've got to be a mother. You've got to keep Allie and Grayson from all of this the best that you can until you decide what you need to do.
Morning – just hours away, I couldn't imagine even looking at him as my mind was running wild with so many questions, and images of Stefan's body and her body and that voice in my head telling me that of course I wasn't enough for him – of course he wanted Katherine. I can't, Pepper. I can't. I can't be in the same room with him knowing what I know.
And what do you know, Elena? She asked. From what you've told me, it sounds like you need to talk to him and get the full story. You're married, Elena – you have a family. Deciding to end a family is a much bigger decision than deciding to break up with your boyfriend.
So, that's why I came out to the fire with him… for Allie and Grayson. For my family.
Had I not called Pepper and had she not given me such perfect advice, I think I'd have packed up the kids and we'd be half way to Bangkok's Thai Airways International. I would have left him… I would have left my husband with a broken heart and more guilt than I think he could handle.
"Elena?" Stefan's voice breaks me out of my daze, my eyes unfocused but still on his beautiful Roman face lit by the glowing fire. Despite the disparaging thoughts running through my mind, I smile at the sound of his voice just barely louder that the water lapping against the sand. "I'm so sorry."
Grazing my fingertips through the short hair over his ears, I hope he feels the frequency between us – it's warm and smooth like silk, yet intense, strong against my chest. "I love you." I look directly into his beautiful eyes – even in the darkest hours of the night with a grey, cloudy sky, Stefan's eyes are so honest, so incredibly green. "Go back to sleep." Unable to stand looking into his eyes any longer – so telling of the shame he's feeling, replete with love for me – I lean over a bit and kiss his forehead, letting my lips linger against his smooth skin for a long moment, his hand finding the back of my head. When I open my mouth, I know I'm breaking our unspoken rule, but the words skip through my filter and they're slipping past my lips before I can object, "I promise, Stefan, everything is going to be okay."
***MORE TO COME ***
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