Chapter 18: Happily Ever After

ELENA

The ring of a knife against crystal announces the toast and I roll my eyes and offer a silent prayer of thanks that it's about to be over.

I don't know how Caroline's managed to find time to enjoy her wedding in between all the times she's threatened, begged and scolded me to make sure Damon doesn't say something awful during his toast. She actually had the nerve to tell me to withhold sex, though why she thinks I would want to punish myself, I have no idea.

I did talk him into swapping out the cubic zirconium prank ring for her real diamond before the wedding, but of course she isn't grateful because I can't tell her that she's been flashing around a brilliant-cut billboard for the Home Shopping Network for the past few months.

Damon brushes a kiss onto my temple before he gets up from our table to head for the front of the room and I smile at him without saying a word. Caroline's crazy. Damon will be Damon, and there's no point in me wasting my breath arguing with him. If anything, it would just push him to be more contrary and say something really terrible. And I know, even if Caroline's too stressed to remember, that it is usually when you expect the worst of Damon that he surprises you.

I take an early sip of my champagne though, just in case, because Damon will be Damon. It could go either way.

He waits for the crowd to settle, looking unrealistically handsome in a tuxedo that appears to be tailored specifically to make my mouth go dry. When he raises his glass, Caroline kicks me under the table. I toy with the stem of my champagne flute and smile soothingly at her. Maybe I should kick off my shoes in case I need to run. Will she go for me first, or Damon?

"I never expected there could be a woman superhuman enough to make my mopey little brother fun again," Damon begins, a gleam in his eye.

"So no one was more surprised than I was when he found one. It took me a while before I didn't mistake the sound of his laugh for a malfunctioning vacuum cleaner…" He waits for the laughter to die down.

"But you know, I've kind of gotten used to it. So even though she's a little bit of a control freak…"

Caroline gasps and Stefan puts a hand on her shoulder, shooting Damon a warning glance.

"And even though she filled my classic convertible with Count Chocula cereal and turned my best booze into a Waterford Jell-O mold," he has to pause again for the crowd to quiet.

"And dyed me blue…"

I grin. Damon's a natural. The guests are roaring with laughter and Caroline looks like she can't decide if she wants to hug him or stab him with her salad fork.

"I am forced to admit," Damon says, cocking his head to the side, "I'm glad she's part of the family."

Caroline gasps again, her hands flying to her mouth, but this time there are tears in her eyes. Stefan's smiling his quiet smile, and I realize for the first time that he and Damon get the same lines at the edges of their eyes when they're pleased about something. They're faint lines, because the Salvatores will never age, but I see them still.

And it's then that I realize that all three of them are Salvatores now. Everyone but me.

Under the cover of the tablecloth, I touch my bare ring finger and look back up at my boyfriend, wondering how I should tell him that I'm ready for that ring to stop living in the safe in the study. He catches my eye and smiles and something about it makes me think that maybe I won't have to say anything at all.

"Any girl who can make my brother this happy is worth her weight in gold," Damon says, and Carol Lockwood sighs audibly. I slant her a suspicious glance, remembering how much she paid for Damon in one of the bachelor auctions. "And that's going to cost me a hell of a lot more gold than I budgeted for if she keeps hitting the hors d'oeuvres the way she has been," he says sardonically.

The microphone squeals as Caroline tackles him into a hug, totally ignoring his last cheap shot.

"Honey, you can't move like that in a strapless," he warns her to general laughter as the microphone catches his comment and projects it for the whole party. "Not if you don't want to make Stefan a lot happier man than he already is."

He flicks off his microphone with his thumb and gives her a quick side-hug even as I hear him sing-song, "Somebody's ruining all her fancy make-up… Quit it or you're going to look like a Goth in the cake pictures."

Liz Forbes hurries forward, her eyes shining just as brightly as her daughter's and hugs him from the other side before he can move away.

He pats her shoulder awkwardly, wincing when he realizes it is left bare by her summer dress. He widens his eyes at me over their heads.

I cross my arms and smile at him, shaking my head deliberately. He's probably going to be absolutely wretched to Caroline to even things out after that speech but for now, I'm going to let him dangle while he pretends not to enjoy the fruits of being nice in public for the first time this century.

He glares at me for a second, but then his gaze catches his brother's. Stefan doesn't get up to hug him, but he doesn't have to. Their eyes are dry, but suddenly mine aren't.

I know Stefan feels guilty for forcing his brother to transition but I don't see how they could have lived without each other. I look away and swallow because their moment feels too private to intrude upon.

There's plenty else to look at, thanks to Caroline's fastidious planning. They got their June wedding and it is fabulous. After endless debate, Damon's eighth death threat, and his second actual murder attempt, she managed to settle on blue and yellow for her wedding colors. She said they were hopeful, and there was nothing that a pair of immortals needed more than love and hope.

In the center of each table are twin ponds linked by miniature wooden bridges. On the ponds float tiny glass boats filled with blue and yellow candies. Each of the place cards was hand-done by a calligrapher in Japan, with a line drawing of a unicorn in the corner. I've overheard Caroline telling the sanitized version of the unicorn story at least a dozen times today.

The cake is a ten-layer fondant masterpiece draped with roses in full bloom, to match the one in Stefan's tattoo. It took Caroline a solid four-minute block of words to explain all the flavors and fillings to me and I did, without shame, bribe Damon with sexual favors to ensure that it wouldn't explode later today.

Her dress is a tour de force, as it well should be. I heard her wedding dress rant so many times that I can still hear it echo in my ears when I try to go to sleep at night.

When you ask people what they want for a wedding dress, everybody says simple. Even if they're thirty yards of chiffon into the flounces and they've run out of room to glue on their tacky little crystals. I say, screw that! I don't want something simple. I want a dress that'll make every girl on the east coast cry her waterproof mascara off in envy, and I'm not going to apologize for it.

The one she finally chose has an asymmetrical pair of satin sashes crisscrossing her bodice that create an unmistakably modern sense of momentum that highlights the romantic, lacy corset top and filmy ball gown skirt beneath.

She's smoothing it back into place now while Damon continues to look pained, nodding at whatever Liz is saying to him and smiling tightly when she leans up to kiss his cheek.

Caroline didn't, bless her, even stoop to the old stereotype of dressing her bridesmaids in ugly satin dresses. Judging by Damon's reaction, my bridesmaid's dress is a complete success.

A small smile curves my lips and in my mind, I'm right back at this morning's ceremony, when Damon first saw my dress.

Damon was the only groomsman, and since Bonnie and I were both bridesmaids, Caroline cut any numerical awkwardness by having him placed at the altar with Stefan instead of doing the procession with us. So Damon is already waiting at the end of the aisle when I step onto the white carpet runner.

My long, blue maid-of-honor dress looks a lot like the dress I wore to the first Miss Mystic Falls pageant. When I round the corner Damon's eyes meet mine with a touch of awe, and I know he remembers. I can feel the bittersweet memory of those guilty, tension-filled days pass between us. Then his lips quirk up on one side, he winks and a wide smile spreads across my face, because Katherine is just plain wrong.

Being caught is worlds better than being chased.

I glance down, blushing. When I look up again, I see Stefan there and my step falters.

With both Salvatores waiting in front of the beribboned altar with their eyes intent on me, the memories are nearly overwhelming and I have to concentrate just to keep walking. My body feels pummeled by the echo of the fear and heartbreak of my last days as a human, struggling so hard to choose when every choice felt dead wrong in my heart.

My gaze flicks from blue eyes to green and back again and at the same instant, they both offer me a reassuring smile.

But suddenly, I don't need it. I'm radiant with a smile that only grows as I turn the corner and take my place next to the altar, the music changing to announce the entrance of the real star of this show. This may not be my wedding day, but I'm the luckiest girl alive and I absolutely know it.

I did it.

I found a way to keep them both. To make sure they are both loved, as much as they've always deserved to be.

Take that, Katherine.