Moonsong (Page 22)

"I know," he replied, and shrugged. "But I’ve definitely just been dumped." He glanced at Stefan, then quickly away, his expression closed off.

Stefan looked devastated. For a moment, his face was so bleak that it wasn’t hard to believe he was more than five hundred years old. "Whatever you want, Elena," he said. He started to reach for her, then pul ed his own hand back to his side. "No matter what, I wil always love you. My feelings aren’t going to change. Take whatever time you need."

"Okay," Elena said. She stood up shakily. She felt like she was going to be sick. Half of her wanted to pul Stefan to her, kiss him until that broken expression on his face went away. But Damon was watching her, his own face inscrutable, and touching either of them felt … wrong. "I need to be by myself for a while," she told them.

At any other time, she knew, both of them would have objected to the idea of her walking the campus alone. They would have argued, fol owed her if she wouldn’t walk with them – anything to keep her safely under their protection.

Now, though, Stefan moved aside to let her out of the booth, his head bowed. Damon sat very stil and watched her go, his eyes hooded.

Elena didn’t look back at them as she crossed to the door of the pub. Her hands were shaking, and her eyes were brimming with tears once more. But she also felt as if she’d carried something very heavy for a while and had final y been able to put it down.

This might be the best choice I’ve made in a long, long time, she thought.

Dear Diary,

Every time I remember the look on Stefan’s face when I told him I needed space, my chest aches. It’s like I can’t breathe.

I never wanted to hurt Stefan. Never. How could I? We’re so close, so wrapped up in each other that he’s like a piece of my soul – without him, I’m not complete.

But…

I love Damon, too. He’s my friend – my dark mirror image – the clever, plotting one who will do whatever it takes to get what he wants, but who has a kindness deep inside him that not everybody sees. I can’t imagine living without Damon, either.

Stefan wants to hold on to me so tightly. He cares for his brother – he does – and Damon cares for him, too, and having me between them is messing that up.

All three of us have been held so closely together by the crises we’ve had to deal with recently – my death and rebirth, Klaus’s attack, Damon’s return from the edge of death, the phantom’s attack – that every move we’ve made, every thought we’ve had, has been wrapped up with the other two. We can’t go on like this.

I know I’ve done the right thing. Without me between them, they can become brothers again.

And then I can sort out the tangled threads of my relationships with both of them without having to worry that any move I make will snap the tenuous bond between us.

It’s the right decision. But still, I feel like I’m dying a slow death. How can I live for even a little while without Stefan?

All I can do is try to be strong. If I just keep going, I’ll get through this time. And in the end, everything will be wonderful. It has to be.

Chapter Eleven

"Coffee, my dear?" Professor Campbel – James, Elena reminded herself – asked. At her nod, he bounced to his feet and bustled over to the tiny coffeemaker perched on top of a teetering stack of papers.

He brought her a cup of coffee, creamed and sugared, and settled down happily in his chair, gazing across his crowded desk at her with an expression of innocent enjoyment. "I think I have some cookies," he offered. "Not homemade, but they’re reasonably tasty. No?" Elena shook her head politely and sipped her coffee.

"It’s very good," she said, and smiled at him.

It had been a few days since she had told Stefan and Damon she needed to take a break from them. After a much-needed sob session with Bonnie and Meredith, she had done her best to be normal – going to class, having lunch with her friends, keeping up a brave mask. Part of this attempt at normality was coming to James’s office hours, so that she could hear more about her parents. Even though they couldn’t be there to comfort her, talking about them offered some solace.

"My God!" James cried out. "You have Elizabeth’s face, and then, when you smile, Thomas’s dimple comes right out. Just the same as his – on only one side. It gave him a certain raffish charm."

Elena wondered if she should thank James. He was complimenting her, in a way, but the compliments were real y directed toward her parents, and it felt a little presumptuous to be grateful for them.

She settled for saying, "I’m glad you think I look like my parents. I remember thinking when I was little that they were very elegant." She shrugged. "I guess al little kids think their parents are beautiful."

"Well, your mother certainly was," James said. "But it’s not just your looks. Your voice sounds like hers, and the comments you made in class this week reminded me of things your father would have said. He was very observant." He delved into his desk drawers and, after a bit of rummaging, pul ed out a tin of butter cookies. "Sure you won’t have one? Ah, Well." He chose one for himself and took a bite. "Yes, as I was saying, Elizabeth was extremely lovely. I wouldn’t have cal ed Thomas lovely, but he had charm. Maybe that’s how he managed to win Elizabeth’s heart in the end."

"Oh." Elena stirred her coffee absently. "She dated other guys, then?" It was ridiculous, but she had kind of imagined her parents as always being together.

James chuckled. "She was quite the heartbreaker. I imagine you are, too, dear."

Elena thought unhappily of Stefan’s soft, dismayed green eyes. She had never wanted to hurt him. And Matt, who she had dated in high school and who had quietly gone on loving her. He hadn’t fal en in love, or even been real y interested in, anyone else since then. Heartbreaker, yeah.