“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.
33
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 really 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.
The End