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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.
