Ripples: A Klaroline Fanfiction

1.

Soft music reached her ears upon opening the door. It was an old jazz tune.

Stefan had always been a rock kind of guy. Wrinkling her eyebrows at the strange sound, Caroline quietly rested her bag on the glass hallway table. The gesture led to her eyes stopping on the golden band adorning her ring finger.

Two months and three weeks.

That was all that separated her from her wedding with the man of her dreams, Stefan Salvatore.

A dreamy sigh escaped her lips as she was reminded on his romantic, over-the-top proposal: renting an entire restaurant, preparing a candlelit dinner, taking her to dance in the patio, only to go down on one knee while they were gazing at the stars. Such perfection had even given off the impression that the full moon had turned into the protector of their love and that, as long as it shone in the sky, it would never end.

Always the hopeless romantic, she chastised herself, but the truth was that her feelings for Stefan were the reason why she was home early from work. He'd said he wasn't feeling well and that he would probably try to sleep it off until she returned. So, of course, Caroline Forbes had to go and buy some chicken soup along with cold medicine and bring them to Stefan immediately.

Careful, as to not wake him up, she put on the kettle to make some chamomile tea and, steaming cup in hand, headed for the bedroom. The raspy woman voice that crooned gently only got louder. How could Stefan be sleeping through all that commotion? He must be feeling worse than Caroline had initially believed.

Cracking open the door, at first all Caroline could see was a mess of pristine, white sheets which she'd washed and pressed this morning, moving around in bed. Then, seconds later, a mop of dirty-blonde hair emerged, tipping backwards, eyes tightly shut, mouth wide open and moaning aloud.

The cup dropped to the floor, scalding liquid soaking the plush carpet and the woman gasped, shock and disbelief written all over her face. "Stefan?" was all she could whisper.

Apparently, it was enough because two sets of disbelieving, widening orbs turned in her direction. Immediately, her fiancée tried to disentangle his limbs from the other woman, a task made harder by the silk linens over which he kept tripping.

Meanwhile, Caroline wasted no time. Feeling the sharp sting of tears burning, she determinedly turned on her heels, making big strides and hoping she was out of the door before the dam broke. She refused to give them the satisfaction to see her break down.

That was reserved for when she was alone in her apartment, with ice-cream and Netflix to soothe her broken heart, if they could. A loud thud announced Stefan tumbling to the ground and it sent hope that her wish might come true and a confrontation was avoidable. For now, at least.

Unfortunately, her life had never been easy and just as she could see the exit, a sweaty palm clamped down on her wrist. She shuddered at the thought of why he was this worked up, the foul taste of bile brought on by the images her mind conjured incessantly.

"Caroline, wait," Stefan began. "I can explain this."

Caroline couldn't help but roll her eyes at the absurdity of that overused line. Did it ever work? If it did, the woman must be really stupid, she concluded. Trying to wrestle free proved to no avail. Begging her voice wouldn't falter she resorted to biting words. "Seriously, Stefan? Do you honestly think me that idiotic to actually fall for any of your explanations? I saw plenty and I can draw my own conclusions, thank you very much."

"Caroline, please," he begged." Please, just hear me out."

"Stefan, let go of my hand, right now." The coldness laced in her voice must have astonished Stefan because he did as asked. Like minutes ago, the engagement ring drew her in. Only this time elation was replaced by contempt. "Oh, by the way, the wedding," she struggled to keep the same indifferent tone. "It's off."