Chapter 49
Elena's POV
"Am I angry?" I repeated his question, my voice flat. "Why would I be angry, Damon?"
"Remember when we were kids? I covered for you that time you skipped math class." I managed a weak smile. "That wasn't the only time. I'm used to you using me as an excuse."
"Sorry." He ran a hand through his hair. "Actually, this trip—bringing you here—I wanted to make up for being an ass lately."
The words sounded rehearsed. Hollow.
I thought of my father's desperate hope for Vance support, for the alliance that depended on me playing my part.
"I appreciate that," I said carefully.
"It's just—" He glanced toward the door, lowering his voice. "Scarlett was pushing me at dinner. Asking why you were here, why I invited you. She got... jealous. So I said what I thought she wanted to hear."
Ah. So now it was Scarlett's fault.
"I see."
"You get it, right?" He stepped closer. "I was trying to reassure her. It didn't mean anything."
"Of course." I folded my hands in my lap. "I understand completely."
He stared at me for a long moment, and I watched something shift in his expression. Confusion. Then discomfort.
"You're really not upset," he said slowly.
"I told you I'm not."
"Yeah, but..." He frowned. "You're being weird."
"Weird how?"
"Too calm. Too..." He gestured vaguely.
Because the self you knew was a lie, I thought. The girl who hung on your every word, who made herself smaller to fit into your world.
That girl was exhausting.
"I'm just tired, Damon." I met his eyes.
He didn't look convinced, but he nodded anyway. "Tomorrow we can go skiing together. You, me, and Scarlett. It'll be fun."
I nodded mechanically.
He lingered another moment, then finally headed for the door. "Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."
"Goodnight, Damon."
The door clicked shut.
I sat there in the silence, staring at the untouched food tray.
---
Damon's POV
I found myself back in the living room, sinking into the leather couch. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the mountains gleamed under floodlights, their peaks sharp against the night sky.
But all I could think about was Elena's face. That eerily polite expression.
She used to be so easy to read. When she was happy, her whole face lit up. When she was hurt, she'd get this look—like a wounded animal trying to hide.
Tonight, she'd given me nothing.
Just empty agreeableness. Like talking to a stranger at a business dinner.
And I hated it.
I should probably apologize. But my pride wouldn't let me. I'd already explained myself. Wasn't that enough?
The grandfather clock in the corner ticked steadily.
Movement in the hallway pulled me from my thoughts.
Scarlett appeared, her hair damp from the shower, wearing one of my shirts and nothing else. She'd changed out of the dress, and the shirt barely reached mid-thigh.
She crossed to the couch, swinging one leg over to straddle my lap. Her hands slid up my chest as she leaned in to kiss me.
I should've responded immediately. Usually I did.
"Hey." Scarlett pulled back slightly, studying my face. "Where'd you go just now?"
"Nowhere. I'm here." I gripped her waist, forcing myself to focus. "How about tomorrow—want to hit the slopes? We could make it a group thing."
Her smile widened. "I'd love that."
Unlike Elena, she meant. Unlike the complicated mess I'd made of that situation.
Scarlett was easy. Uncomplicated. She wanted what I wanted, when I wanted it.
"You're way easier to please than some people," I muttered.
"Who, Elena?" She laughed, trailing her fingers down my neck. "She's always been difficult. Too uptight, too serious. You need someone who knows how to have fun."
Scarlett kissed me again, deeper this time, her hips shifting against mine. Her hands moved to my collar, and I felt myself responding despite the knot of tension in my chest.
"Careful," I said against her mouth. "Elena's right down the hall."
"So?" Scarlett's laugh was low and teasing. "Let her hear. Maybe she'll finally get the message."
"Scarlett—"
"What?" She pulled back enough to meet my eyes, her expression playful. "You don't want her to know we're together? I thought that's why we invited her—to make it all official."
"It's not about that."
"Then what?"
I didn't have an answer.
She kissed my jaw, my throat, working her way down. "Relax, baby. I'll be quiet."
---
Elena's POV
I was going to throw out the food tray. But as I reached for the door handle, I heard voices outside.
Damon's voice, low and teasing: "Easy. Jesus Christ, we're in the middle of the living room."
A feminine laugh. Scarlett.
My hand froze on the handle.
"Light's too bright out here," Damon continued, amusement threading his tone. "You really have no shame, do you?"
"You like that about me." Scarlett's voice was playful, intimate. "Admit it. You'd be bored to death with some obedient little good girl who only does what she's told."
I stood there, frozen, listening to the soft sounds of movement. A sigh. The rustle of fabric.
I retreated to the window, taking a deep breath. Outside, snow had begun to fall again, thick flakes drifting past the glass.
You'd be bored to death with some obedient little good girl.
The words played on repeat.
Was Damon doing this on purpose? Bringing me here to watch him with her?
Or was he really just that oblivious?
I didn't know anymore.
And the worst part—the part that made my chest ache—was that I didn't have the energy to care.