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She might never see him again. The thought filled her with an almost painful sorrow, but not with the angry bewilderment she’d felt at his death. Now she had the chance to say good-bye.
Stefan’s green eyes searched hers, as if he was looking for answers. “I wanted to say thank you,” he said finally. “Damon and I are leaving. We’ve decided to go back to Italy for now. I wanted—we wanted—to see what’s left of the Florence we remember.” His lips quirked up in a half smile. “We’ll see if we can find more of our humanity there, I suppose.”
Elena nodded. “I’m glad,” she said.
He reached out and took her hands, so gently and carefully that Elena’s heart ached with longing. “What can I do to thank you?” he said slowly.
Elena squeezed his hand once, fiercely, and then pulled away. “You don’t need to thank me,” she said, hearing the roughness of almost-tears in her own voice. “Just take care of Damon. And of yourself.”
She turned toward the car where her friends were waiting, and Stefan touched her on the shoulder. “Will I see you again?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I don’t think so. But just … keep going, okay? For yourself, and for Damon. Remember that there’s someone out there who cares about you, the real you.”
“You are a mysterious one, Elena Gilbert,” Stefan said. With one last nod of appreciation, Stefan turned to go.
Hot tears were running down her cheeks as Elena watched Stefan walk out of her life forever. But Elena wasn’t sad, or not only sad. This Stefan might live. And that made it all worthwhile.
As Elena rode home in the backseat of Matt’s car, her thoughts drifted to the one person she hadn’t gotten a chance to say good-bye to. Maybe it was for the best. She didn’t know how she’d say good-bye to Damon.
In the front seat, Matt and Meredith were laughing, talking about the Haunted House. They’d missed everything. With luck, they’d never know about vampires, never be touched by the darkness all around them. They’d be normal. Happy.
Bonnie jostled Elena gently. “Are you okay?” she whispered.
Elena sighed and laid her head on her friend’s shoulder, just for a moment.
Bonnie wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You helped them. From what you told me, I think you’ve saved a lot of people.”
“Yeah,” Elena said, her voice small. She blinked back the sting of tears in her eyes. She’d saved herself, too. Stefan. Damon.
In the big picture, it didn’t matter if she never got to say good-bye to Damon, if she never saw either Salvatore brother again. Not if they all got to live.
When they pulled up to her house, Elena hugged all three of her friends again, fast and hard, before climbing out of the car and waving good-bye.
Aunt Judith had left the porch light on for her, but the windows of the house were dark. They must already be in bed.
As Elena crossed the lawn, a dark shape detached itself from the shadows beneath the quince tree and came toward her.
“Damon,” she said, happiness flaring up inside her, hot and sudden.
Damon came close and looked at Elena for a few moments without speaking, his black eyes unreadable. “I suppose I should say thank you,” he said at last.
“You’re welcome,” Elena said, holding his gaze steadily.
“You’re no coward,” Damon gave her his quick, devastating smile.
Elena smiled back, and Damon took her by the arm and led her to her front porch. “More comfortable here,” he said, sitting down on the porch steps, and Elena sat beside him. She was still wearing the Red Riding Hood cloak, and she was glad of its warmth.
Damon tilted his head back to look at the stars. “I suppose Stefan told you we’ve decided to go back to Italy,” he said conversationally. “He seems to think that things might get sticky here, with the fire and the graveyard desecration and all that.” Damon lifted one shoulder in a graceful shrug.
“I can imagine,” Elena said. She let herself lean into him a lit
tle bit. She felt as if her heart was, very quietly, breaking.
“Come with us,” Damon said suddenly. “I have this strange feeling that it would be a terrible mistake to leave you behind.”
He was still looking up at the stars, as intensely as if he could read the future written in the sky. The moonlight and the porch light combined threw shadows across his face, softening Damon’s aristocratic features and the stubborn set of his mouth.
“Oh, Damon,” Elena said. Tears started to pool in her eyes.
