The War of Roses Read Free Page B

she couldn’t understand how it had happened.
    It wasn’t as if Elena didn’t know that Bonnie had feelings for Damon; Bonnie knew that.  But Elena also knew that she could trust both Damon and Bonnie absolutely. 
    How could Bonnie have completely forgotten all that?  How could she have done such a horrible thing? 
    It was so strange, but in those moments that she’d been held by Damon’s eyes, Bonnie had . . . had lost track of the connection between him and Elena.  Insane as it sounded, Bonnie had somehow thought of Elena as—taken care of.  As if she’d broken up with Damon and was with . . . with . . .
    With who? Bonnie demanded of her own mind.  You don’t even have someone to pretend about!  You know that she wouldn’t get back together with Matt.  And . . . okay, so it feels as if there should be some other guy, someone perfect for her, someone who loves her desperately, but that’s Damon , you idiot!
    You and Meredith swore a blood oath that you would help her get Damon or die doing it.  Back in the cemetery in Fell’s Church, you swore it.  You promised.
    I am insane, Bonnie thought.  I really, truly am.  I say bizarre and terrible things I don’t remember; I sleepwalk in the freezing cold; I try to steal my dearest friend’s guy.  And then I make up crazy excuses for my behavior.
    Maybe it would have been better if Damon hadn’t come to find me and rescue me.  I swear!  If those wild dogs had just . . . just come a minute earlier I would never have done such an awful thing.  It’s better to be dead than a crazy traitor!  Isn’t it?  Isn’t it?
    “Now, redbir—now, Bonnie,” Damon said from behind her, and Bonnie realized that she had her hands up over her face again and that she was sobbing quietly. 
    Maybe I said something terrible just now, she thought, and she didn’t care because she was insane.
    “Bonnie,” Damon said again.  “Come on.”  He was wrapping his jacket around her again, trying to tuck her arms into the armholes.  Bonnie let him do it.  Her arms hung down limply, and the jacket made her want to shudder.  The leather of it smelled like Damon now to her.  And the smell made her remember that one moment—a moment that had seemed to last forever—when his lips had touched hers.
    “I’m insane,” she got out, between hitching breaths.  “I’m . . . I’m . . . evil . . .”
    “Bonnie!”  Now Damon sounded more than shocked.  He turned her around and Bonnie was so surprised that she let him do that, too.  “Of course you’re not evil.  And you’re not insane, either.”
    “How can you say that after—”
    “After what?  That was just . . . it wasn’t what you think.”
    Bonnie’s tears stopped out of sheer astonishment.  She knew what that had been.  That had been a complete, terrible, wonderful meeting of lips and souls.  It had been a complete betrayal . . .
    “No, it wasn’t,” Damon said, looking half exasperated and half . . . well, if she didn’t know better, she would think that it was still that tenderness that he had shown.   And besides, how could he know what she was thinking?
    “Everything you’re thinking shows in your face,” Damon said, looking as if his pati ence was being stretched.  “But listen to me.  Elena knows that I care about you.  Of course I do.  And she understands.”  He fluffed Bonnie’s curls gently, almost as if he were affectionately mussing her hair.  “And just for a moment, I was so glad to see you that—well, it was an impulse.”  He shrugged.  “We all have impulses.  This time, maybe it wasn’t such a good call.  But it doesn’t change how I feel about Elena.  And Elena knows that—although I think it would be better if we both just forgot about it.  I think you think the same thing.  That we both should just forget it, yes?”
    Bonnie’s breath caught in her throat again, but this time it was a different kind of wonder that had snatched the air from her