Chapter Text
chapter seven
i got you, baby girl
———
The morning light spilled through the gauzy curtains in honeyed ribbons, painting soft gold across the kitchen floor. It was quiet, save for the occasional hum of the oven and the faint clink of a spoon against ceramic. Something warm and cinnamon-rich perfumed the air—Jenna's doing, no doubt, tossed together "just because."
Elena padded into the kitchen barefoot, swallowed by an oversized hoodie that smelled faintly of Sessily. Her hair was still tousled from sleep, her cheeks flushed with the softness of dreams and the residue of something else—something heavier.
Jenna sat at the table, legs curled beneath her, the arts section of the paper spread before her like a ritual. Her coffee steamed gently beside her, untouched.
"Morning, sweetheart," she said, eyes not lifting yet, but her voice already holding the kind of gentleness that could split someone wide open. "Sleep okay?"
Elena lingered in the doorway for a breath too long, then quietly took the seat across from her.
"I did," she said. "Sort of."
That was all it took—Jenna folded the newspaper in one smooth motion and met her niece's eyes. Her gaze was sharp in the softest way, patient but piercing. She waited.
Elena curled her hands around the warm mug already set in front of her. Steam coiled upward, but she didn't drink. Her voice, when it came, was small. Almost ashamed.
"Can I tell you something that feels... really awful?"
"Of course," Jenna nodded without blinking. "You can tell me anything."
Elena stared into her coffee. "I think I'm happy."
A long beat passed.
"I'm happy," she said again, softer now. "Like really, truly happy. And it makes me feel like the worst person alive."
Jenna didn't speak. She just reached across the table and took Elena's hand in hers.
"I feel like I should still be drowning," Elena whispered. "Like if I'm not aching every second, it means I didn't love them enough. But I do, Jenna. I miss them so much it sometimes punches the breath out of me. And yet... I wake up and think of Sessily, and I feel light. Safe. Like I'm... allowed to be. And that scares me."
Jenna squeezed her hand, her silence a harbor.
"They would've hated this," Elena said, voice cracking. "Not just me being with a girl but being this version of me. Free. Visible. Whole. They loved me, I know they did, but only if I stayed small. Only if I stayed the Elena they wanted, and I hated that version of me."
Her voice faltered again, throat tightening.
"I used to think dating Matt meant I was doing it right," she went on. "That if I played the part well enough, I could breathe without guilt. But it was suffocating. And I didn't even know how badly until... Sessily."
Jenna's voice, when it came, was thick with emotion, low and steady. "Oh, baby."
"I hate that part of me feels freer without them. That my grief isn't pure." She looked up, eyes red and shining. "Is that messed up?"
"No," Jenna said, her own eyes glassy. "It's honest. And so painfully unfair. You shouldn't have had to choose between their love and your truth. That's not the kind of love that deserves to chain you."
Elena blinked rapidly, but the tears slipped free. "You've always been the one who saw me."
"Oh, Lena," Jenna smiled through her own ache. "I saw you watching that barista in Richmond when you were fifteen. You turned bright red and acted like you didn't. I saw how your face would go still when Matt kissed you, how you forced laughter, as if dating him was your job. I saw how you shrank, Elena. How you tried to fold yourself into the mold they built for you. And I hated it, even when I didn't know how to fix it." Jenna loved Miranda, she always would, that was her sister, but even she couldn't deny that Miranda and Grayson were shit parent and wildly homophobic.
A single tear rolled down Elena's cheek. "You're fixing it now."
Jenna shook her head gently. "No. You are. You are choosing yourself, every day. That's not betrayal, Elena. That's growth. That's healing. You deserve to bloom in the sunlight, not just sit in the shadow of who they needed you to be."
Elena let out a trembling laugh, bitter at the edges. "Sessily makes me feel like I can just exist. No apologizing. No hiding. Just... me. Loud, soft, messy, real. And I think I'm falling in love with her."
Jenna's hand tightened around hers. "Then fall. Fall hard, baby girl. I'll catch you if you ever need me to."
A silence settled between them then, heavy and sacred.
"She's going to teach me Italian," Elena said, smiling weakly through her tears.
"Of course she is." Jenna's smile was wobbly but bright. "She's already halfway gone for you."
Elena swallowed. "Do you think they'd hate me for this?"
Jenna's answer was firm and immediate. "I think the parts of them that truly loved you still live in you. And maybe they didn't know how to love all of you. But they don't get to steal this from you. Not anymore. This life you're building—this joy—it's yours."
Elena stood, walked around the table, and collapsed into Jenna's arms. She curled into her like she used to when she was little, like the world was too big and her Aunt Jenna was the only safe place left.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"For what?" Jenna asked, her voice breaking slightly.
"For not leaving."
"I never will," Jenna murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I'm here. I'm staying. And I'm so proud of you."
In that warm kitchen, wrapped in the scent of cinnamon and comfort, Elena didn't feel cured. But she did feel seen. Safe. Loved. And slowly, quietly, the guilt began to loosen its grip—not vanishing, but making space for something new.
She wasn't betraying the past.
She was finally stepping into her future.
She was living her life for herself, and that was okay.
———
The office smelled faintly of bergamot and old books, like peace and memory folded into the air. The walls were painted a dusky sage, muted and calm, with the shelves lined with hardcover books and succulents. A framed photo sat near the window—Charleen in her teaching days, arm slung around a graduating Jenna and a blonde, all smiling at the camera, the two girls with degrees in hand.
Elena sat curled on the couch, legs tucked beneath her, one of the woven pillows clutched against her chest. The late sun dappled the room through lace curtains, casting soft halos over everything.
Dr. Charleen O'Connell sat across from her in a wide-backed chair, notepad on her lap but untouched. Her blue eyes—clear, kind, seeing—rested on Elena, waiting, patient.
"I didn't know where else to take it," Elena said, voice rough. "Jenna thought maybe... I should talk."
"Jenna was right," Charleen said softly. Her voice was low, with the slow confidence of someone who'd heard a thousand variations of pain. "Want to start from where it hurts most today?"
Elena exhaled shakily, fingers tightening around the pillow. "I think... I think I'm happy."
"That's a beautiful thing to think," Charleen murmured.
Elena laughed, but it cracked on the way out. "It doesn't feel beautiful. It feels like betrayal."
Charleen nodded slowly. "You feel like you're betraying your parents?"
"I do," Elena whispered. "I wake up and go out with my girlfriend, and it's like breathing finally makes sense. I smile, and it doesn't feel like a performance. I don't flinch when someone sees me looking at Sessily, because I'm finally allowed to be with a girl. And then I remember... they'll never see this version of me. And if they had? They wouldn't have wanted her."
She blinked fast, her throat already tightening.
"They would've hated her," she said. "They would've hated me."
"And that hurts," Charleen said gently.
"It pisses me off," Elena snapped, startling herself.
Charleen didn't flinch. "There it is."
Elena sat back, heart hammering, eyes wide. "I'm not supposed to say that. I'm not supposed to be angry at them."
"Why not?"
"Because they're dead," Elena said, voice breaking. "Because they're gone and they loved me and I miss them. Because they were good parents in so many ways. Because I want to forgive them—God, I do—but every time I think about how easy it is now, how I get to just be with Sessily and not hide, I remember how hard I worked to shrink myself for them."
Charleen's voice was soft but steady. "And that's where the guilt lives. Not just in your happiness—but in your anger."
Elena was crying now. Not the quiet tears she often let slip. These were hot and shaking. Her shoulders trembled.
"They saw me with Matt and knew I wasn't happy," she said, anger gripping at her chest like a vice. "They knew. My smile never reached my eyes. I never talked about a future with him. I looked at girls with stars in my eyes and they saw it and they just... ignored it. Or worse, they steered me back."
Charleen nodded, her voice unwavering. "Because they wanted a version of you that didn't exist."
"And I gave it to them," Elena whispered. "I gave them a lie and they praised me for it. I twisted myself up so tightly trying to be what they wanted, and now that they're gone, I'm finally free—and I hate that. I hate that I had to lose them to find myself. And I hate that part of me hates them for it. I hate that they were so disgusted I was gay that they'd rather have me straight and unhappy."
She doubled forward, hands over her face, breath ragged.
"I am so tired of pretending I'm not angry."
Silence fell like a weighted blanket. Not suffocating—just dense, real.
Charleen finally spoke. "You loved them. And you're angry. Both can be true. Both are true."
Elena sniffled. "But what kind of daughter feels relief after their parents die?"
"The kind who was living in a cage and didn't realize the bars were made of expectations," Charleen said. "The kind who never stopped loving—but finally realized love shouldn't come with conditions, with prices."
Elena was silent for a long time, tears still falling, slower now.
"I see how easily Jenna loves me," she said quietly. "How Sessily's mom—Mama Viv—welcomed me like I belonged there. Like my being a lesbian isn't something to work around. And I keep thinking: my parents would've made me feel like a stranger in my own life. Sessily is everything they wanted in a partner for me: thoughtful, charming, kind, and she challenges me. She pushes me out of my comfort zone, makes me looks at things differently. She's everything. And they never would've accepted her."
Charleen's eyes softened. "And that knowledge breaks your heart."
Elena nodded. "Because they'll never get to change. They'll never get to see this version of me and I'll never know if, one day, they might've learned. But I'll never get that closure. Just... absence."
"And anger," Charleen added gently. "Which is valid. Which you've buried under guilt for too long."
Elena let out a long, slow breath. She looked down at her hands, at the pillow she'd nearly wrung in two.
"I think I needed to say that out loud," she said.
"You did," Charleen said, smiling gently. "And you did beautifully."
Elena looked up at her, eyes tired but a little clearer. "What do I do with the anger now?"
"Now," Charleen said, "you let it exist. You stop policing it. You stop telling yourself that love means silence. And in time, when the anger ebbs, when it no longer roars—what's left will be yours. The peace you earn will be honest. Yours alone."
For the first time that day, Elena let the quiet settle over her chest instead of inside it.
She wasn't okay—not fully. But she was closer to the truth than she'd ever let herself be. She was closer to peace since her parent's death and that felt really fucking good.
———
The mall air was cool and filled with the low thrum of music, perfume samples, and back-to-school sales signs. Bonnie, Caroline, and Elena wandered through Paper Source, the smell of fresh notebooks and expensive pens wrapping around them like memory.
Caroline had picked Elena up from her therapy session earlier that afternoon, not saying much—just offering her a bottle of coconut water and an obnoxiously cheerful playlist. Bonnie was already in the back seat when they pulled up, sunglasses on, arms wide for a hug. They didn't ask questions. Just drove to the mall, like it was any other Saturday.
Now, surrounded by gel pens and planner displays, Elena felt her shoulders start to loosen.
"Okay, hear me out," Caroline said, arms full of pastel highlighters and a planner with gold foil stars on the cover, "we start planning for Nationals now. Uniform upgrades, choreography clinics. Mystic Falls High is not going to be second to that Samson girl's fake splits again."
Bonnie arched a brow. "Caroline, it's July."
"Exactly! Winners prepare in July."
Elena laughed, tugging her curls into a loose ponytail. "You sound like Coach Kim when she's had espresso."
"She gets me," Caroline insisted, practically vibrating with energy. "I swear, this is our year. I can feel it. Elena, tell me you'll come back to co-captain."
"Maybe not as co-captain," Elena said, pausing by a display of journals, running her fingers over a linen cover with a soft floral print. "But, yeah. I want to be back on the team."
Bonnie gave her a small smile but didn't say anything. It was the kind of smile that said I see you, but didn't force anything more.
Caroline squealed, nearly knocking over a stack of washi tape in her excitement. A couple of customers turned, but she was unbothered. "YES. That's all I needed to hear. I am revitalized."
They meandered into the boutique next door, trying on oversized sunglasses and debating which autumn palettes made their undertones pop. Caroline fell in love with a leather jacket that was wildly out of budget ("My soul is saying yes, but my wallet is screaming"), Elena bought it for her when she wasn't looking, and Bonnie was already texting her cousin Lucy about switching to honey blonde highlights for her back to school braids.
Elena was just beginning to laugh at Bonnie trying on a pair of tortoiseshell frames when her phone buzzed against her thigh. She didn't have to look—she knew that tone. Text message. Most likely Jeremy.
Caroline glanced over, noticed the flicker of hesitation across Elena's face, and nudged her gently. "Hey," she said, her voice softening just enough, "lunch is on me. I'm thinking Thai or ramen. You pick."
Bonnie beamed. "Let it be known we never turn down free food."
Elena smiled, her chest warming with something softer than relief. Something closer to love.
"Ramen," she said, sliding her phone into her bag. "Definitely ramen."
They headed toward the escalator, laughter trailing behind them like the tail end of a favorite song.
———
Lunch was served in a cozy booth with a view of the city street, the shopping bags slouched at their feet like tired children. Bonnie was halfway through her matcha lemonade, Caroline was taking photos of with her brand new leather jacket.
"So," Bonnie said gently, her tone casual but her eyes sharp, "have you and Sessily talked about... what happens when you go back to Mystic Falls?"
Elena blinked, startled for half a second, then nodded, her fingers toying with the rim of her iced tea glass. "Yeah, we have. We're not pretending it's nothing. I mean, it's kind of impossible to."
"And?" Caroline asked, trying and failing to look disinterested.
Elena smiled. "She told me she's not going anywhere I don't want her to be."
That earned a soft "awww" from both girls.
"She knows I'm moving back. And she's not asking me to stay," Elena continued. "But... Mama Viv is actually thinking about expanding. She's been talking about opening another Nonna's."
Bonnie raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? In Mystic Falls?"
"Yup," Elena grinned. "Apparently, after I ranted about the Grill's bland soup and frozen fries, she started researching the local food scene."
Caroline gasped. "So she's bringing baked joy to our cursed town?"
"That's the idea," Elena laughed. "And if she does, Sessily might come with her. At least part-time to help launch the location."
Bonnie smiled, something fond and a little relieved flickering across her face. "So there's a plan. Or at least a path."
"There's us," Elena said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "And we're figuring it out. Together."
Bonnie reached for a fry, thoughtful. "She really likes you, huh?"
Elena's heart skipped. "Yeah. I think she does."
Before the conversation could turn deeper, Elena's phone buzzed again — this time with a FaceTime ring.
sessily😩💕
Elena lit up like the sun just broke through the clouds.
"I bet she adopted a turtle or something this time," Caroline muttered.
"I bet she bought the whole shelter," Bonnie said, smiling.
Elena tapped to answer and lifted the phone. "Hey, troublemaker."
The screen opened to Sessily, grinning ear to ear... with a tiny golden cocker spaniel in her lap, blue-gray eyes blinking at the camera, soft pink bows on her floppy ears.
"Oh my god," Elena gasped, stunned. This had to be the cutest dog she has ever seen.
"Everyone," Sessily said, voice managing to sound both smug and sweet, "meet Lady."
Bonnie actually dropped her fork. Caroline squealed like a girl at a boy band concert.
Elena melted. "You did not."
"She looked up at me like she knew I was a sucker," Sessily grinned. "So now I'm a dog mom."
"And you named her Lady?"
"As in Lady and the Tramp, yeah," Sessily said, scratching behind the puppy's ear. "She already likes Sade, hates the vacuum, and thinks she belongs in my lap 24/7."
Elena cooed, softly. "She's perfect."
"Just like her other mom," Sessily winked.
Bonnie and Caroline simultaneously yelled "SHUT UP" and "GAY!" loud enough to startle the next table not that either cared.
Elena flushed but didn't look away. "You're impossible."
"And you love it," Sessily said, lifting Lady's paw in a wave.
"Oh, I really do."
———
The door chimed with its usual soft ring as Elena stepped into Nonna's. The warm smell of butter, lemon zest, and something sugary sweet wrapped around her like a hug.
But it wasn't the pastries that made her stop in her tracks.
It was Sessily — sitting cross-legged on a cushioned bench near the front window, her curls loosely pulled back, wearing a soft beige hoodie and biker shorts, one hand holding an iced coffee, the other gently scratching behind the ears of a tiny golden cocker spaniel curled beside her like royalty.
Lady.
Elena's heart did an actual somersault.
Sessily looked up the moment she stepped inside, her whole face lighting up. "Hey, pretty girl."
Elena smiled back, stepping carefully across the bakery floor like any sudden movement might break the spell. "Hi."
"Come say hi to your daughter," Sessily teased, patting the empty space beside her.
Elena sat down slowly, eyes never leaving the puppy. "Oh my god... she's even cuter in person."
Lady blinked up at her with those soft blue-gray eyes and gave a polite little tail wag, then gently rested her head back on Sessily's knee like she knew how adored she was.
"She's perfect," Elena whispered, reaching out and letting Lady sniff her hand before giving her a soft scratch behind the ear.
"Don't let the cute ears fool you, she's been napping through her villain era," Sessily murmured. "Destroyed a loaf of brioche earlier, barked at her reflection, fell asleep in the laundry basket."
Elena laughed, watching the way Sessily's voice softened when she talked to the puppy, the way her fingers stroked gently through golden fur without thinking. There was something about watching her like this — so unguarded, so tender — that made Elena's chest ache with something that felt like hope.
"She really listens to you," Elena said, eyes wide. "She's so calm."
"She likes to pretend she's better trained than she is," Sessily said, grinning. "But I think she's just soft on girls with good hearts."
Lady gave a sleepy sigh, nuzzling into Sessily's palm. Elena cooed, already knowing she was going to put amazon prime account through hell for Lady.
"Seriously," she said, her voice hushed with awe, "watching you with her is unfair. You're, like... peak girlfriend right now."
Sessily glanced at her sideways, smirking. "Oh? You like watching me be soft?"
"I love it," Elena admitted. "I love watching you love."
For a moment, Sessily didn't say anything. She just looked at Elena like she was something gentle she didn't want to touch too hard — not because she didn't want her, but because she did.
"Yeah?" she asked softly.
Elena nodded. "Yeah."
Sessily leaned in, brushing her nose against Elena's before giving her a sweet, unhurried kiss. Not long. Not deep. Just enough to make Lady's ears perk up like she was witnessing something sacred.
Elena pulled away with a giggled. "She's judging us."
"She'll get used to it." Sessily grinned.
Lady rolled onto her back, paws in the air, and both girls immediately reached down to rub her belly, fingers tangling briefly in the middle. They looked up at the same time, cheeks flushed, eyes warm.
"She's going to be so spoiled," Sessily whispered.
"Yeah," Elena murmured, glancing between the sleepy dog and the girl beside her. "She really is."