by L. J. Smith
“This is Jeannette,” Matt said proudly.
“I’ve heard so much about you!” she said, excitedly to Elena. “Matt and I keep saying we’re going to come to Europe and see everything you’ve been e-mailing him about since college. The gallery and all.”
Sue Carson and her husband and a couple of Bonnie’s college friends came to join them at the table, and the next few minutes were full of greetings and introductions.
“I’m going to get another drink,” Jeannette said brightly after a few minutes, hopping up from the table. “I know you want a beer, honey, and can I get anyone else anything?”
Matt watched her walk away with a fond, proud smile. “She’s great, isn’t she?” he asked. “Did I tell you she’s finishing up vet school? And not just poodles and things. She’s going to be a large animal vet. As little as she is, she can handle a bull or a wild horse.”
“She seems terrific,” Elena said, sipping her wine. She was happy for Matt, but she couldn’t help missing Jasmine, the girlfriend he’d had for so long in the world she remembered. Maybe not everyone had a soul mate.
A thick band across one of Matt’s fingers caught her eye, and she leaned forward suddenly, shocked. “Matt Honeycutt! Is that a Super Bowl ring?”
Matt blushed, and Meredith stared at her in disbelief. “Honestly, Elena,” Meredith said. “I know you live in France, but don’t you even hear who wins the Super Bowl?”
Elena was momentarily dumbfounded, but Matt just rubbed at the back of his neck, embarrassed. “It’s not a big deal,” he said. “I’m not first string, I only played for a little while.”
“Are you kidding?” Elena said, and got up to hug him. “It’s a huge deal.” She held onto him tightly for a moment. He was happy and successful. Even without Jasmine. Maybe this is his true destiny.
Time passed and Elena drank wine and talked to familiar faces. Dinner was served, salmon or steak, and the DJ began to play. Bonnie and Zander came out onto the dance floor for their first dance, gazing up into each other’s eyes. Elena was watching their dance from the half-empty table when she looked up and saw a familiar face. Alaric.
He was listening to Meredith, his sandy head inclined politely as she talked, a smile on his handsome, boyish face.
Alaric Saltzman had been called in by some of the citizens of Fell’s Church to investigate Mr. Tanner’s death. He had taken over as their history teacher to investigate the possibility of vampires being behind Tanner’s murder.
In a world where Mr. Tanner had lived, Alaric had never come to Fell’s Church. They had never met him.
So why was he at Bonnie’s wedding? Why was he talking to Meredith?
“Who’s that with Meredith?” she asked, leaning across the table toward Matt and interrupting his conversation with Sue Carson. They both looked.
“I don’t know,” Matt said, and Sue shook her head. “One of Zander’s friends, probably.”
As they watched, Meredith took Alaric’s hand and pulled him out onto the dance floor.
“He’s cute,” Sue said. “They look good together.”
“Excuse me,” Elena said, pushing back her chair and getting up.
When she found Bonnie flitting about happily between tables, the redheaded girl hugged her enthusiastically. “Was that not the best wedding?” she asked.
Zander’s smile widened. “She’s been saying that to everyone,” he said affectionately. “I totally agree, of course, but I might be biased.”
“It was a wonderful wedding,” Elena agreed, “but actually I wanted to ask you, how do you know Alaric Saltzman?” On the dance floor, Alaric said something softly in Meredith’s ear, and she tossed her head back and laughed.
“Alaric? Oh, the High Wolf Council called him in to consult on some problem they had a while ago,” Bonnie said vaguely. “He and Zander got to be friends.”
Zander added, “He’s a really good guy. Meredith’s okay with him.”
“How do you know Alaric Saltzman?” Bonnie asked curiously.
“Oh.” Elena shifted uncomfortably. It was way too much to explain, especially in a crowded reception hall. “It’s complicated. I’m sure he won’t know who I am.”
“Huh. Oh,” Bonnie said, getting it. “One of those kind of friends. Out of the past. Or a different time, anyway.” Zander frowned, looking slightly bemused, but he didn’t say anything.
“Yes,” Elena said. “Exactly.”
A few minutes later, the photographer came over to ask Bonnie and Zander to pose with a table of Bonnie’s cousins, and Elena went back to her own table. From across the room, Elena watched as Alaric and Meredith danced, and then got a drink at the bar together, laughing and leaning toward each other, Meredith reaching up unconsciously to push twirl a falling tendril of her own hair around her finger as she smiled up at him. When they went out on the dance floor again, Alaric was holding Meredith’s hand firmly in his.
Elena took another sip of wine, but it suddenly tasted bitter.
She was happy for her friends. She truly was. They deserved every happiness, both of them, and Zander and Alaric were perfect partners.
But, despite that, Elena felt like the walls she’d built up inside herself were breaking, cracking, letting a flood of misery spill through her, one small stream at a time. She put down her wine glass and clenched her hands together, willing back the tears. She wasn’t going to make a scene at Bonnie’s wedding.
But she would grow old and die, and she would never know what had happened to Damon and Stefan. If they’d stuck together.
She might love each of them. Did love them, had a thousand memories of love, but they were only hers. They wouldn’t remember.
A lump was rising up in her throat, and she knew with sudden, devastating certainty that she was about to cry after all.
“Hey,” Matt said, leaning toward her. “Elena. Are you okay?”
“Of course,” Elena said, her voice brittle and cracking. “I always cry at weddings.”
“Sure,” Matt said. “Come dance with me, then. You don’t mind, do you, Jeannette?”
“Of course not,” Jeannette said lightly, looking at Elena with sympathetic, intelligent eyes. “I’m going to see if I can track down a waiter to bring me more of those tiny crab cakes.”
His big hand securely holding hers, Matt led Elena to a distant corner of the dance floor and wrapped his arms around her. Elena pressed her face against his shoulder, glad of the warm, reassuring bulk of him.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Matt asked softly, and Elena shook her head, not looking up.
Matt held onto Elena tightly, and she let the tears flow, her face buried in his shoulder where no one could see.
At least I still have this, she thought, sniffling. At least I still have my friends.
Dear Diary,
The last four days in Virginia were wonderful ones. I went up and stayed with Aunt Judith and Robert in Richmond and spent some time with my baby sister. It’s so hard to believe that Margaret’s in middle school now. When I think about her, I still imagine that four-year-old with the big blue eyes, but she hasn’t been that little girl for a long time. We went with Aunt Judith and got our nails done together, and Meggie even told me about a boy she likes! How can she have grown up so fast?
Elena glanced up from her diary and out the tiny, rounded window as the wheels of her plane jolted as they landed on the runway. The sky at Charles de Gaulle airport was gray and drizzly, and just suited her mood. Elena sighed drearily and turned back to the diary.
I was thinking about moving back to Virginia. I’d get to see my baby sister grow up. Aunt Judith would be happy, and even Robert would be pleased.
I’ve got a life in Paris, of course. Friends. A job I love.
And none of it feels like mine.
The plane was taxiing to the gate, and Elena looked absently out the window again, watching the hubbub of the airport—catering trucks, baggage handlers, other planes shining wet with rain—without real
ly seeing them.
I decided I ought to give it a chance, though, she wrote slowly. That last night, Damon called me brave. Running back home would be just about the farthest thing from brave I can imagine.
I chose this life, even if I can’t remember it.
And wherever I live, I’ll have to try to figure out how to be normal. Wasn’t that something I longed for, all those years?
It’s not the only thing I ever wanted. Not by a long shot.
But it’s the only one I’ve got.
Up at the front of the plane, the door opened and the other passengers climbed to their feet, surging toward the exit. Elena closed her diary and tucked it in her purse, then stood up and pulled her carry-on out of the overhead bin and, squaring her shoulders, followed the other passengers out of the plane. She was going to be brave.
The airport was crowded with hurrying passengers and, despite being in Paris, managed to have the same soul-deadening atmosphere as any big airport. Fluorescent lighting hummed overhead and the smell of disinfectant was everywhere. There was a headache building up behind Elena’s eyes. Maybe she was getting sick. Elena sniffed experimentally, feeling sorry for herself.
Heading for the baggage claim, all at once she saw him, and her whole inside jolted in instant, eager recognition.
No. It was impossible.
But there he was, standing by a magazine stand, looking just the way she remembered him. Strong and graceful and so beautiful, one of the most beautiful people she’d ever seen. He was wearing a beautifully cut black jacket, and he held himself like the aristocrat he’d been born as. Elena couldn’t breathe. If she moved, this might be snatched away from her.
Elena knew the exact moment when he saw her, too, and his whole body stiffened in shock. His eyes were wide and his lips were slowly turning up into a smile of amazement.
And then she was in motion, moving straight toward him, her high-heeled boots clacking on the tiled floor, her carry-on rattling along behind her on its little wheels.
He was coming toward her, too, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on her.
This is it, Elena realized, stopping stock-still in front of him and staring dumbly up into his face. This is who I’m meant to be with. My destiny caught up with me after all.
“Hello, Elena.” Damon’s mouth twisted into its telltale smirk, and Elena knew she was home.
#TVD13TheEnd
About the Author
L. J. Smith has written a number of bestselling books and series for young adults, including The Vampire Diaries (now a hit TV show), The Secret Circle, The Forbidden Game, Night World, and the New York Times #1 bestselling Dark Visions. She is happiest sitting by a crackling fire in a cabin in Point Reyes, California, or walking the beaches that surround that area. She loves to hear from readers and hopes they will visit her updated website at www.ljanesmith.net.
