You had never been the type to believe in fate, but there was something about Mystic Falls that made you question everything.

Maybe it was the way the fog rolled in at night.

Maybe it was the way the town always seemed to be hiding something.

Or maybe it was because you found a letter that wasn’t meant for you… and it changed everything.

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You were cleaning out the old Gilbert house—an empty task that felt more like a punishment than a chore. The place was dusty and silent, like it had been waiting for someone to remember it.

You were in Elena’s old room, sorting through boxes, when you found it.

A stack of letters tied together with a faded ribbon.

No return address. No stamp.

Just her handwriting.

You stared at it for a long time before you dared to open it.

Your fingers trembled as you untied the ribbon.

The first letter was addressed to you.

But it wasn’t meant to be sent.

It was meant to be kept.

A secret.

You read the first line, and your heart stopped.

I keep writing these letters, but I never send them. I’m scared you’ll read them and realize I’m not as brave as I pretend to be.

You swallowed hard.

Elena Gilbert didn’t sound like Elena Gilbert in this letter.

She sounded… vulnerable.

You kept reading.

Dear you,

I don’t know if you’ll ever see this. Maybe you’ll never know I wrote it. Maybe it’s selfish of me to even put these words down, because I don’t want to ruin the way things are between us.

But I can’t keep pretending like I don’t feel something for you. It’s like a constant ache—like I’m always thinking about you, even when I don’t want to.

I hate how much I care.

I hate how much I want you.

And I hate that I’m too scared to say it out loud.

You paused, your eyes burning.

You didn’t know whether to feel angry or honored.

Because the truth was—if Elena had feelings for you, it meant you mattered to her more than you’d ever realized.

You read on.