A/N: Hello! And Happy New Year! ;) I know I've been neglecting this story horribly and I'm really sorry! Thanks so much to everyone who's still reading this and leaving me encouraging reviews. You have no idea how much it means to me! So while I am still focussed on finishing "Second Chances", I wanted to update to let you know that I am NOT ever giving up on this story and I will come back to it full time asap.
Also all of you who were angry with me for ending the last chapter where I did, I have published an M-Rated oneshot called "Maybe Less, Maybe a Little More" that I'm actually pretty proud of. So anyone who wants to know how I do smut, feel free to check that out ;)
Again, thank you soooooo much for everything! Sorry for the long A/N, I ramble when I'm grateful. Hope you enjoy.
The fifteenth chapter, in which someone is fooled, and someone is not
Better or worse, but what else can we do?
And better or worse I am tethered to you.
If it's not either of us, tell me who are we fooling?
"Who are we fooling?" – Brooke Fraser feat. Aqualung
The warming, comforting scent of cinnamon filled the air. Soft music was playing on the kitchen radio. Elena stirred the smooth batter, pushing the spoon through the sticky dough.
"You look sexy behind the stove."
Elena was startled by the voice intruding upon her reminiscent solitude. But the surprise was replaced quickly by a rush of exhilaration. With a bright smile she turned around towards the voice she had unknowingly missed all morning. Damon was leaning against the doorframe, one leg crossed casually across the other, watching her. Elena wondered for how long he had been standing there.
"Sexist much?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow and mockingly reprimanding him.
A smile broke out on Damon's face as he pushed himself away from the opening that led towards the living room behind him. With seemingly calculated steps, his eyes never leaving hers, he leisurely walked towards her.
"You always look sexy. You just happen to be standing by the stove right now. What's a man to do?" he asked, lifting his shoulders innocently.
"Smooth," Elena acknowledged with a slight roll of the eyes, before turning back around and dropping the spoon into the batter.
Instead of answering her, Damon wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her body softly into his. She was pliant under his touch, fitting her frame to his, melting into the embrace.
"How has your day been?" he asked, carefully swiping her hair from her shoulder.
"It's getting better by the second," she replied, lifting her hand to run her fingers through the short hairs at the back of his neck. She felt his lips delicately on the skin of her shoulder and immediately felt her body respond to his kisses, felt heat charge through her and a flurry rumble in the pit of her stomach. The effect Damon had on her was startling. As long as she could remember, she had never missed physical contact, had usually even dreaded it. She had never hungered for someone's touch and had never longed for someone's kiss but she did now. She was desperate for it. Quickly she swirled around in his arms and wrapped hers around his neck.
"I hate it when you're not here," she whispered and then pulled him closer to finally seal their lips in a kiss filled with all the yearning she felt.
"Keeping you safe is a time-consuming job," Damon murmured, letting both hands dive into her hair and anchoring her, her forehead against his.
"How was your day?" she returned his earlier question.
"It had too little of you in it," he replied with a grin which prompted her to return one just as bright. "Other than that it was fine." They finally let go of each other and Damon leaned against the counter while Elena returned to her cooking endeavors. "I looked a little into Elijah Mikaelson. You were right. He doesn't seem to be involved with his brothers' business at all."
"Then why is he meeting with Mason?" Elena questioned, her brow furrowed pensively.
"I haven't the faintest idea," Damon admitted before leaning over and dipping a finger into the batter. With a shocked expression Elena tried to swat his hand away but he was too quick and already licking the sugary paste off with the cheekiest expression he could muster.
Elena smiled, wanting to give into the easiness of their conversation, wanting to let the mild sunlight streaming through the window and the sense of security that always enveloped her when Damon was around lull her into a pleasant feeling of content. It would be too easy, with him so close to her and the rest of the world seemingly so far away. But a faint apprehension roiled in the pit of her stomach, not allowing her to submit to the surely treacherous hope life dangled in front of her. "Is this something we should worry about?" she asked, her face suddenly turning serious again.
"No," Damon shook his head. "It is something I should worry about."
"You don't have to protect me from everything, you know," she complained, pouting slightly.
"Yes I do. It's what I get paid for," he returned with a slight smile.
Elena shook her head, all playfulness gone now. "Not things like this, Damon. Don't treat me like I'm weak, like I need to be left out of important matters."
Damon's face turned serious as he pondered her reaction for a second. "I would never try to leave you out," he tried to explain. "If I find out anything concrete, I'll let you know immediately. I promise," he added. Elena nodded.
Damon wanted to reach out for her, wanted to reassure her that he hadn't meant to make her feel weak, that she surprised him every day with her fire and her hidden courage. But just as he was about to grab her hand, they heard the door to the suite being flung open in the next room and Elena flinched away from him. Damon was surprised by the pain her reaction caused him. He was aware of the fact that they couldn't really be together, that she had to keep him a secret, that no one could know about his feelings for her – yet her physical rejection of him in this moment cut deep and despite his conscious understanding or her reaction, subconsciously it hurt him greatly.
"Babe!" came Vicki's shrill voice from the lounge. "Where are you?"
"In here," Elena replied tiredly, unenthused by her friend's visit.
"You won't believe what…" Vicki yelled while quickly walking towards them, cutting herself off as she entered the kitchen. "Oh. Hello," she greeted Damon, a spark in her eyes that Elena was unable to interpret.
"Mrs. Lockwood," he acknowledged with a curt nod.
"Would you leave us alone for a minute?" Vicki questioned, dropping her purse on a sideboard by the door. "I have some exciting but private news to share with my sister in law."
"Of course," Damon returned, stepping away from the counter and walking out of the kitchen without another look in Elena's direction. Vicki followed him with her eyes and waited for the suite door to fall shut before turning back around to Elena, a suggestive smirk on her face.
"I hope I wasn't interrupting anything," she stated, slowly walking towards the window and sitting down at the table below it.
"What would you have been interrupting?" Elena asked nonchalantly while moving to the kettle to make some water for tea.
"No. Champagne," Vicki ordered, earning her a surprised look. "I told you I had exciting news."
"Sounds very exciting," Elena acknowledge, walking over to the fridge to get a bottle of Champagne.
"It just looked like I interrupted something," Vicki clumsily segued back to their previous conversation. Elena groaned inwardly, having hoped to have diverted the conversation successfully.
"I asked him yesterday to look into something and he just came back to me," she explained vaguely while pulling the cork from the bottle.
"Look into what?" Vicki asked to Elena's great annoyance.
"Turns out it was nothing," she replied with a forced smile. "Now, what's that exciting news of yours?" She sat down at the table as well, placing two glasses between her and her friend and pouring the sparkling liquid into the thin-stemmed flutes.
This time, luckily, Vicki did let Elena change the topic. "Tyler re-proposed," she squealed and lifted her glass as if for a toast.
"Re-proposed?" Elena asked, not really understanding what that meant.
"Yes. He wants to renew our vows. We're leaving for a second honeymoon tonight."
"Oh wow, that's amazing," Elena replied, a little shell-shocked. During their time on the beach, Vicki had seemed less than certain about her marriage.
"Yes," her sister in law returned with a bright smile.
Elena's head was reeling. Just a week ago her friend had told her about all her doubts regarding her marriage and now she was giddy about recommitting?
"You look like you've seen a ghost," Vicki said with a little giggle.
"I'm just surprised, I guess," Elena stated. "In the beach house you said…"
"Psshh…" Vicki interrupted, waving her concerns away with an irritated flick of the wrist. "That was a rough patch," she explained. "We're good now. He said that the time we spent apart showed him how much I really mean to him and he wants to show me that I'm his number one priority. He wants us to start over."
"In that case I'm happy for you," Elena said with a light nod and a sincere smile.
"Thank you!" Vicki exclaimed, flinging herself forward and embracing Elena tightly. "We're leaving for Italy tonight."
"Wow, Italy. That sounds so romantic," Elena commented with a slight swoon, getting excited by her friend's delight.
"It will be!" Vicki beamed, pulling back before suddenly her eyes widened and a thrilled expression crossed her face. "You guys should come with us!" she exclaimed, grasping Elena's hands enthusiastically.
"What?" Elena laughed, looking at her friend with disbelief.
"You should! It'll be amazing! Just the four of us, lounging around on the beach and strolling through Venice. Come on."
"We can't," Elena laughed away Vicki's idea. "We are under 24-hour protection. We can't just up and leave," she reasoned.
"All the more reason to get away from here," Vicki maintained. "No one's going to follow you this spontaneously. And you'd get away from the stress for a while. It's perfect!"
Elena smiled slightly. Her sister in law had a point. It would be nice to get away from everything for a while. And Italy sounded perfect. But she knew Mason wouldn't go for it. It was abundantly clear to her that she was only a priority to him as long as it didn't interfere with his business and going to Italy would definitely interfere with business. Also, she didn't want to take her kids from their daily routine yet again. They had only just started school again and despite the awkwardness their full time protection provided, they seemed to fit in nicely. And another thought stopped her from getting excited by the idea: Damon wouldn't be there.
"That sounds amazing," Elena conceded. "But we really can't. It's just not a good time."
"Boo," Vicki complained with an exaggerated pout. "Well, I will send you a card every day to make you jealous and regret your decision."
Elena laughed. "Alright, I'll be looking forward to that," she smirked.
"Well, if I can't make you come with me, I'll have to leave you to your boring self because I have to go and pack for my fabulous second honeymoon," Vicki stated with a playfully haughty look while getting up and grabbing her purse.
Elena smiled and accompanied her friend to the door. "Well, you kids have fun," she said while hugging her goodbye.
"Stay safe, dork," Vicki commented before spinning around on her heel and strutting towards the elevator.
Elena smiled to herself and returned to the kitchen, finally turning her attention back to her baking. Mason wouldn't let her make dinner and she missed it. She was hoping that he wouldn't be opposed to recreational baking. It could hardly be deemed actual house work. She was also looking forward to the smiles on her children's faces when they would get home from school and be greeted by home-made cinnamon buns.
While they were in the oven, she went to put Mason's and her clothes into laundry bags so the maids would know to take them away and get them cleaned. When she picked up her dress from last night, she felt excitement stir inside her at the memories it conjured up – memories of how Damon had caressed her leg when she had lifted it through the long slit, memories of how he had unzipped the dress, slowly trailing his fingers along the skin of her back, making her shiver, memories of sleeping with him for the first time, of looking into his eyes when she came, of bliss that enveloped her entirely, a kind of bliss that she had never felt before in her life.
She heaved a small sigh, thinking back to what it had felt like to lie in his arms afterwards, to feel his fingers trace absent-minded patterns on her upper arm, to feel his naked skin against hers, his heat radiating into her body, to hear his voice murmur lowly, leisurely into her ear.
There was no solution to their situation; no amount of talking would change that. But they both knew that regretting what happened would be lying to themselves and they had agreed not to do that anymore.
Whether last night was her only night with Damon or whether it would be followed by others was beside the point. While the thought of never being with him again was painful, the memory of their night together would be enough to get her through many lonely ones to come.
She put the dress into one of the laundry bags and hung all their wrapped clothes onto the bedroom door before returning to the kitchen to check on the progress of her baking. She smiled as she pulled out the rolls, browned to golden perfection, still steaming and sizzling in the casserole. She breathed in the delicious scent before putting the dish down on the countertop, reaching for the frosting.
At that moment she heard the door to the suite open and recognized Mason's footsteps in the hallway. Elena wrinkled her forehead. It was the middle of the day. He wasn't supposed to be home.
"Mason?" she called, looking curiously towards the kitchen door.
When he stepped into the doorway, a small shiver ran up Elena's spine. He looked extremely irritated, his forehead pulled in a deep frown, his lips pressed together harshly.
"What's wrong?" Elena asked, starting to worry. He had bad news, she could feel it. A sudden jolt of fear shot through her. "Are the kids okay?" she asked, dropping the bowl of frosting onto the countertop.
"Is he here?" Mason asked, his voice severe, his eyes darting across the room.
"Who?" Elena asked, frowning in confusion.
"Mr. Salvatore," he stated, sounding annoyed. "Is he here?"
"No, I haven't seen him since earlier this morning," Elena replied, worry still eating at her heart.
Mason bristled with anger and turned around, walking back towards the foyer. "Come with me," he ordered, not looking at her.
"Mason, I was just…" she began, looking over to her still steaming cinnamon buns, but was cut short immediately.
"Now, Elena," he called sternly, making Elena jolt into action and follow her husband into the living area of the suite. She caught up with him just as he pulled open the door to the hallway and commanded a guard standing outside to call Damon.
Elena was getting more and more agitated. If he needed to see Damon this urgently, then surely something was very wrong. "What's going on, Mason?" she asked, wringing her hands nervously. "Did you receive another threat?"
"No," he replied curtly, pulling a file from his briefcase. Just as Elena wanted to ask further questions, Damon walked into the room. His eyes shot over to her quickly, but when he saw that she was as lost as he was, he focused his attention on Mason.
"What happened, Mr. Lockwood?" he asked, worry apparent in his eyes.
Mason waited for the door to fall shut before beginning to speak. "How long have you been sleeping with my wife?" he questioned abruptly, scowling at Damon with angry intensity.
Elena gasped in shock, rushing up to the men frantically before Damon had time to respond. "Mason, we're not…" she began, immediately cut off by the furious glare her husband shot her.
"Don't you dare lie to me," he spat, before turning his full attention back to his bodyguard. "How long?" he demanded.
"Sir, I don't…" Damon began calmly, trying to sound appeasing, but only enraging Mason more.
"You think you can fuck my wife in the hotel that I'm basically financing at the moment and it won't be brought to my attention?" he roared, flipping the file he had been holding open and slapping it onto the sofa table vehemently.
Elena flinched at the aggressive gesture before looking down at the evidence that was now sprawled across the small wooden table, making her world tilt off its axis. Pictures. Pictures, that looked like they came from a security camera inside the elevator. Pictures, that showed Elena clinging to Damon and kissing him. She felt heat shoot up her body and tears blur her vision.
"Mason, I…" she began, wanting desperately to make him unsee those pictures.
"Shut up!" he shouted, rage shooting from his eyes.
"Mr. Lockwood," Damon began again, his voice still calm. "I'm sorry, that was my fault. Your wife was upset and she had a little too much to drink, I took advantage of the situation. I apologize, Mrs. Lockwood," he said, turning to her with a pained expression. "I can't believe I abused your trust so grossly. Please forgive me." His voice was composed and calculated.
"Is this true?" Mason asked, turning towards Elena.
She stared at him, stunned. It was obvious in the pictures that Damon was not taking advantage of an inebriated woman – that she was desperately holding onto him and begging for his touch. Mason couldn't buy this excuse.
"Please don't blame your wife for my transgression," Damon added. Elena felt a tear roll down her cheek. It suddenly became clear to her what he was doing. He was giving Mason the chance to choose to be a man who saved his wife from a harassing employee instead of a man who had been cheated on. The idea of it pained Elena terribly. To deny what being with Damon had meant to her hurt more than the idea of never being with him again.
Even though Elena still couldn't find it in her to speak, Mason seemed to be satisfied.
"Never come near my wife again," he said, collecting the printed out images, his voice now frosty rather than angry. "Instruct Agent Roberts to take over your position and get out of my sight."
An icy coldness clamped tightly around Elena's heart, making it almost impossible for her to breathe. Mason was sending him away. The one man who had made her glad to be alive, who had made her body light up with desire, who had given her a sense of family and home amidst the lurking shadow of imminent disaster – and she would never see him again.
"Mason, no. We need him. To protect us," she began frantically, grasping at any straw that might give her hope. "He has to pick up Jenna and Jeremy from school later. He has to keep them safe," she rattled on, aware that she was probably undoing everything Damon had just done to give her a chance at saving her marriage, but unable to stop herself.
"Stop it, Elena," Mason commanded sternly, anger resurfacing in his eyes. "You gave me no choice but to fire him."
"Mrs. Lockwood," she heard Damon's voice behind her, obviously desperate to get her to calm down.
"No!" she exclaimed, grabbing onto Mason pleadingly. "You can't!" Her mind was spinning. What could she say to keep him? "The kids love him."
Mason stilled completely and looked at her murderously. "The kids love him?" he spat, taking a menacing step towards her.
"Mr. Lockwood, come on, I'm leaving," Damon bargained.
"No!" Elena cried, tears springing to her eyes and running down her face. Mason only looked at her for a second before pulling back his arm and slapping her across the face with the back of his hand. Elena stumbled and fell to the floor, her head pounding and the skin on her cheek burning intensely.
"Don't you dare hit her!" Damon fumed, lunging at Mason and striking him with his fist. Mason tumbled to the floor as well, holding his jaw.
"You just signed your death sentence," Mason growled, looking up at Damon menacingly. "You will never work in this town again."
"Don't threaten me with your power when you feel the need to reaffirm it by hitting your wife," Damon spat disdainfully. He held his hand out to help Elena up but before she could grasp it, Mason had grabbed something else from his briefcase and jumped to his feet. Elena paled when she saw what he was now directing at Damon. A gun. It was black and matted and looked lethal in his hand.
"Mason, stop," she whispered pleadingly, leaning forward to place a soothing hand onto his forearm. Just as her skin touched his, he spun his head around and shoved her back to the floor aggressively, the hand holding the gun still pointing at Damon.
"Shut the hell up!" he fumed, whirling his head back around, only to be looking down the barrel of a gun himself.
Damon had used the second of inattention on Mason's part to grab his own fire arm from its holster and direct it at him menacingly. Elena whimpered, overwhelmed by the way this situation had spun out of control. Both men were now staring unflinchingly at each other. Finally, Damon was the first one to speak.
"Come on, man," he began, slowly lifting his free hand in an appeasing gesture. "This is ridiculous."
"This is beyond ridiculous," Mason fumed. "You threatening me!" He looked disgusted. "You swore to protect me with your life."
Damon shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving Mason's, the rest of his body rigid. "You fired me," he stated in a calm voice. "I'm only still here to make sure you don't hurt Elena."
"Elena, huh?" Mason asked, before turning his face back to his wife. "You think you can disrespect me like this?" he barked at her, the hand with the gun never wavering.
"Please, Mason, I'm sorry," Elena pleaded, tears running down her face.
"What?" Mason spat in return. "Are you going to tell me it was only one time? Are you going to tell me it didn't mean anything?" Elena continued to cry, unable to force any words out of her mouth. "You ungrateful slut!"
"Hey, don't talk to her like that," Damon shouted, anger now etched into his formerly calm features.
"You need to shut the fuck up," Mason sneered, turning his attention back to the man he was threatening with a gun. "Did she tell you she was unhappy? Did she ask you to take her away from this life and live with her on that fucking beach? Did she make you believe she had feelings for you?" His head shot back over to where Elena was still sitting on the floor, imploring him with her eyes to stop. "Did you? Like you did with me?"
"Mason, please stop," she begged, her voice raspy.
"Did you tell him how I found you? Did you tell him where you'd be now, if I hadn't rescued you from your godforsaken life?" His whole body was shaking now from the rage that boiled inside him. A single tear squeezed out of the corner of his eye and rolled down his anger-reddened cheek. "I saved your life!" he pressed out. "And you promised you'd stay with me, forever. That's all I ever asked, Elena. You promised."
Elena felt hollow inside, hollow from crying and hollow from having to listen to his words. She had told Damon how they had met but she had not gone into details about her life before Mason, had hinted at the events that had scarred her but not elaborated on the severity of them, had told him that Mason had taken her with him into a better life but she hadn't admitted just how awful her life before him had been, hadn't told Damon that Mason had saved her in more ways than one. Mason was right. She owed him her sanity and probably her life. He had taken her away from the desolation that had been her existence, had kept her safe, had given her two amazing children, and she had repaid him by cheating on him. She was shocked by herself, by her selfishness and ungratefulness. He didn't deserve to be betrayed. He didn't deserve to be made to feel second-best to anyone. He deserved her eternal gratitude and support.
"You're right, I'm sorry," she whispered, her eyes glued to the floor in shame. "Mason, I'm so sorry."
"Elena, you don't have to listen to this," Damon argued from his spot near the door. "You don't have to let him talk to you that way."
"No, Damon, he's right," she said, flicking her reddened eyes up to meet his. "This was a mistake. I'm sorry. Please leave." The anguish she saw on his face broke her heart all over. Two men were standing in front of her – one she loved and one she owed her life to – and while she deserved neither of them, she had broken both their hearts.
"Elena," he began, his voice taught, as if something was choking him.
"Please go," she asked again, a little more forceful this time. Damon lowered his gun, staring at Elena abjectly. "Please, I want you to go," she sobbed, unprepared for the pain her own words were causing her.
Damon's eyes flicked from her to Mason who was still standing in the same position as before, his arm stretched out and holding the gun, his eyes vacant, his whole posture rigid, like a statue, all fight gone from him. He looked back at Elena who was sitting on the floor, unable to look at him, silent tears streaming down her face. He pulled his free hand through his hair in shock, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Until ten minutes ago, this had been the most perfect day of his life. He had woken up to memories of Elena in his arms, Elena's skin under his fingertips, Elena's moans and gasps in his ears, Elena's soft hand trailing reverently across his abs and her fingers gripping forcefully into his hair. He had woken up to memories of her curled up to his side afterwards, her leg entwined with his, her arm clinging to him, her breath fanning across his chest, her soft voice and tired, content giggles vibrating against his skin. He had woken up to memories of her soft, pliant lips, her silky hair that tickled his stomach, the taste of her skin as he had nipped at her arms and abdomen, her eyes that had bored into his with a passion and devotion he had never seen in anyone's eyes before. He had been able to hold her again, in her kitchen, kiss her, listen to her voice, have her look at him again with that immense emotion in her eyes that he hadn't yet dared to label. And now, an hour later, she had pulled the floor out from under his feet. They had agreed upon one thing last night – that it wasn't a mistake – and now she had told him it was, making him feel sick to the stomach.
He drew in a sharp breath, put his gun back in its holster and slowly walked backward towards the door, his eyes never leaving her, willing her to change her mind, to admit that she felt about him like he did about her, to ask him not to leave her – God knew he wouldn't. He would take her wherever she wanted to go, would give her whatever she wanted from him, would fight her husband for the kids, would do everything in his power to make her happy. If she only so much as looked at him, he would not relent until she left here with him. But she didn't. She sat on the floor, immobile, her eyes turned to the floor, not even granting him a last farewell as he stepped into the hallway and let the door fall shut behind him.
As soon as the door had fully closed, Mason's stiffness dissolved and he stumbled a few steps back, dropping into an armchair helplessly, the gun tumbling from his hand onto the ground. A muffled sob broke from his chest as he buried his head in his hands.
Elena looked up tiredly, waiting for she didn't know what. For a while they were both silent, sitting in the quiet room that suddenly felt far too big. The sun streaming in through the window suddenly didn't warm their home but cast a paradoxical light upon their situation, making tiny grains of dust dance melancholically in its lazy rays. The silence and the knowledge that she had sent Damon away threatened to overwhelm Elena if she were to dwell on either any longer, so she slowly moved over to where Mason was still sitting in the armchair and reached out for him, desperate for forgiveness, another altercation, a hateful glare, anything that meant not being left alone with her torturous thoughts.
When her hand touched his arm, Mason flinched, dropping his hand and looking at her anxiously. His eyes were red and swollen, his cheeks dampened from the tears he had pressed against them with his palms.
"You promised you would never leave me," he stated with an expression that didn't seem to know if it wanted to plead or accuse.
"I'm not leaving you," Elena tried to reassure him, grabbing his hand with hers.
"You can't," he persisted, leaning over and resting his forehead against hers. "I need you."
Elena stared up at him quietly. She didn't doubt that he was serious and honest. She didn't, however, have the slightest idea why it was he thought that he needed her. They had gotten along well in the beginning, but she had long since stopped to believe that he was in love with her. They shared their lives, they supported each other, but she didn't feel like either actually needed the other for anything other than monetary reasons, and she was the only one benefitting from their marriage in that respect. Anything she could offer him, the companionship, the trophy on his arm, the sexual partner for the few times that he was still looking for one, any other woman could offer him as well, and probably better.
It didn't matter though, why he thought he needed her. As long as he did, she would be there for him. She owed him that much at least. If she could give him nothing else, at least she could give him her loyalty.
"I would never leave you," she stated, brushing his hair from his forehead.
He breathed a few deep breaths, calming down slowly, before his features turned stern again. "Don't ever do that again," he said quietly, his voice determined now, all vulnerability gone from him. "You're never to see him again."
"Okay," Elena pressed out, her voice shaky, new tears gathering in her eyes. When she had sent Damon away, Elena had felt like it was the only possible resolution to that particular situation. But now that the finality of it was slowly sinking in, it hit her in a wave of pain that took her breath away.
Without another word, Mason got up and went into their bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Elena sat on the floor, miserable, unable to move until she heard the shower turn on. Then, suddenly – as she no longer felt her husband's eyes on her, as his presence no longer forced her into acceptance – strangled sobs tore through her chest and echoed in the silence around her. How could she have gotten everything so wrong and turned everything into such a horrible mess? She was used to being in pain herself. But how could she have hurt two good men so terribly.
Slowly, she got up and moved back into the kitchen, absent-mindedly smearing the frosting onto the cinnamon buns until it turned flaky. In her mind she was running after Damon down the stairs, was grabbing him, was apologizing to him, was telling him all the things she knew she could never really tell him. A million times over the course of this endless, dreadful day, her eyes wandered towards the phone, her fingers itching to reach for it. A million times she imagined simply grabbing her purse, walking out of the door and never coming back. But she couldn't. Couldn't betray her husband, her savior so grossly. He deserved better. And so did Damon. He deserved to be with a woman who wasn't as broken as her, a woman who wasn't as selfish as she had been – leading him on when she had known perfectly well that they could never have a future together. The idea of it had simply been too unbelievably wonderful for her to resist.
It was late in the afternoon, when a knock on the door made Mason reappear. After a day of exhausting solitude and hearing noises from her husband but not feeling able to go and see him, Elena almost felt a rush of relief at his presence. His leisurely movements, his composed expression, it was almost as if their world hadn't just crumbled to pieces.
Before Elena could reach the door, Mason was there, pulling it open, revealing one of their guards, a distraught expression on his face. "What is it?" Mason demanded gruffly.
"Mr. Lockwood, Mrs. Lockwood, I'm afraid I have to ask you to come with me to a more secure location", the agent said sternly, his eyes betraying his worry.
"Why?" Mason questioned. Elena felt fear crawl up her spine. There had to have been another threat. Somehow, the blackmailers had to have heard about Damon's leaving and were now jumping at the chance to capitalize on their momentary weakness. How, Elena wondered, had the news travelled so quickly? There had to be someone in their inner circle working with them.
"Has there been another threat?" Elena asked, unable to keep the concern out of her voice.
"I'm afraid there's been an incident," the agent said. And suddenly Elena realized that it wasn't worry she had seen in his eyes, it was sympathy. "It seems your children have been taken from their school."
Elena's heart halted. It had already been broken today, but now it simply stopped beating. Her legs gave out under her as prickling darkness threatened to swallow her whole.
A/N: The shit hath hitteth the fan. Let's get this party started ;)