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The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of coral and violet, while the cold winter air wrapped itself around Mystic Falls like an embrace that was both tender and biting. The streets bustled with people in heavy coats, their laughter and chatter echoing through the narrow alleys. Josie Saltzman stood on the steps of a little café, her gloved hands curled around a paper cup of steaming hot chocolate. The sweet, rich scent of cocoa and cinnamon danced in the air, but Josie hardly noticed. Her gaze was fixed on the old oak tree in the square, whose branches stretched across the cobblestones like the arms of a long-lost lover.
She didn’t know how long she’d been standing there, lost in thought, but the door behind her swung open and a familiar voice cut through the evening.
“Jo! You’re gonna freeze out here,” Hope Mikaelson said, stepping out and nudging Josie’s shoulder with her own.
Josie blinked and turned, her lips curving into a smile she hoped looked genuine. “Hey, Hope.”
Hope was radiant in the glow of the streetlights, her auburn hair tousled by the breeze, eyes shimmering with laughter and warmth. She looked every bit the girl Josie had fallen for—years ago now, in the quiet of the Salvatore School library, over whispered secrets and shared dreams. And even now, when Josie told herself she had moved on, she knew it wasn’t true. Her love for Hope had grown roots deep inside her, impossible to tear out without losing part of herself.
“Come on,” Hope said, grabbing Josie’s free hand and tugging her back inside. The café was warm, the scent of pastries and espresso comforting, and the low hum of conversation was like a blanket around them. Hope led her to a table by the window, where a small vase of white daisies sat between flickering candles.
As they sat, Josie forced herself to focus on Hope’s face. She looked so happy. So… alive.
“What’s on your mind?” Hope asked, her head tilted, concern knitting her brow.
Josie hesitated. She didn’t want to tell Hope what she was really thinking—that she’d spent the past hour imagining what it would be like if things were different. If the ring on Hope’s finger, the one she absently twisted around her thumb, had been given to her by Josie instead of Landon. If the laughter in Hope’s eyes was for her alone.
“Nothing,” Josie said, finally. “Just… the wedding’s in a few weeks. It’s coming up fast.”
Hope’s smile widened, her whole face lighting up. “I know. It feels like a dream. I still can’t believe it.”
Josie nodded, her heart sinking. She wanted to be happy for Hope. She was happy for her. But somewhere in the hollow spaces of her chest, a small voice whispered it should have been me. She silenced it with a sip of her hot chocolate.
“You’re going to be a beautiful bride,” she said, her voice steady even as her fingers trembled around the cup. “Have you picked out your dress yet?”
Hope’s cheeks flushed, and she laughed softly. “I did. It’s… perfect. It’s everything I ever wanted.” She paused, her eyes bright with excitement. “Landon hasn’t seen it, of course. I want it to be a surprise.”
Of course he hadn’t seen it. Landon was the perfect fiancé—kind, gentle, and so in love with Hope it made Josie’s chest ache to watch them together. She’d met him a few months back, and he’d been everything she’d feared: sweet and considerate, the kind of man who brought flowers just because and held Hope like she was the most precious thing in the world. Josie had seen it in the way he looked at Hope, as if she was sunlight itself. And Hope… Hope glowed around him.
“That’s so romantic,” Josie said softly, though the words tasted like ash in her mouth.
Hope reached across the table and squeezed Josie’s hand. “I’m so glad you’re here, Jo. It means the world to me.”
Josie smiled, blinking back tears. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
The next few weeks passed in a blur of wedding preparations. Josie was there for every step—picking out flowers, tasting cake samples, helping Hope decide between a string quartet and a jazz trio for the reception. She played her part perfectly, the supportive best friend, the one who smiled and laughed and never let the pain show.
But every time she saw Hope and Landon together—heads bent close in quiet conversation, hands linked like a promise—it felt like a tiny death.
One evening, after a long day of finalizing seating charts, Josie found herself alone with Hope in her apartment. They sat on the couch, a soft throw blanket draped over their legs, the flicker of candles casting a warm glow around them.
“Thank you for all of this,” Hope said, resting her head on Josie’s shoulder. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Josie closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of Hope’s shampoo—lavender and something sweet, like honeysuckle. She wanted to stay like this forever, frozen in this moment of closeness that wasn’t quite what she wanted, but was more than she deserved.
“You don’t have to thank me,” she said quietly. “I love you, Hope. I’d do anything for you.”
Hope turned her head, her lips brushing Josie’s cheek in a soft, affectionate kiss. “I love you too, Jo. You’re my best friend.”
Best friend. The words settled in Josie’s heart like a stone. She knew she should be grateful. But all she could think was I want to be more.
Two nights before the wedding, Josie lay in bed, staring at the ceiling while snowflakes fell silently outside her window. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she picked it up to see a message from Hope.
Hope: Can’t sleep. Want to come over?
Josie’s breath caught in her throat. She should say no. She should protect herself, put some distance between them before she fell apart completely. But she couldn’t.
I’ll be right there, she typed back.
When she arrived at Hope’s apartment, Hope was already waiting at the door, wrapped in a thick sweater, her hair pulled up in a messy bun. She looked impossibly beautiful, even in the softest, simplest light.
“Hey,” Hope said, her voice hushed.
“Hey,” Josie echoed.
They settled on the couch, a bottle of wine between them. Hope poured them each a glass, and they drank in silence for a while, the weight of unspoken words pressing in around them.
Finally, Hope spoke. “Do you ever think about… what might have been? If things were different?”
Josie’s heart skipped a beat. She looked at Hope, searching her face for any sign of what she meant. “What do you mean?”
Hope let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “I don’t know. Just… sometimes I wonder how life would have turned out if I’d made different choices. If I’d loved someone else.”
Josie’s breath caught. “And do you think… would it have been better?”
Hope’s eyes were impossibly blue, shimmering in the candlelight. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “But I do know I wouldn’t be here, right now, with you.”
Josie reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind Hope’s ear, her fingers brushing warm skin. She wanted to say everything she’d been holding inside—how she’d loved Hope for so long, how she’d dreamed of a future where they were more than friends. But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t ruin this, not when Hope was so happy. Not when Landon was waiting just around the corner.
So instead, she said, “I’m glad you’re here too.”
Hope smiled, her eyes soft and a little sad. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Jo.”
And Josie thought, You’d be just fine. You have him.
The day of the wedding dawned bright and cold, the sun glittering off the snow like diamonds. Josie dressed carefully, her hands shaking as she fastened the pale blue dress she’d chosen for the occasion. She’d told herself it was just a color, nothing more. But she knew it was because Hope loved blue, said it reminded her of the sky on a perfect summer day.
She arrived at the church early, helping Hope with the final touches. The chapel was filled with flowers—white roses and pale lilacs—and the scent of them made Josie’s head spin. She watched Hope move through the room, radiant in her white dress, her face glowing with a happiness Josie would never be able to give her.
Hope caught her staring and smiled. “What do you think?”
Josie swallowed hard. “You look… perfect.”
“Thank you,” Hope said softly, her cheeks flushing. “I’m so glad you’re here, Jo.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” Josie said, her voice breaking. “You’re… you’re everything.”
Hope reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly. “You’ve always been there for me. I don’t know how to thank you.”
Josie blinked back tears, forcing a smile. “Just… be happy. That’s all I want.”
Hope’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “I will. I promise.”
The music swelled as the doors opened, and Josie stepped back, watching as Hope began the slow, graceful walk down the aisle. The sun filtered through the stained glass, casting rainbows on the white of her dress. She looked like a vision, like a prayer made flesh, and Josie felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces.
God, how beautiful she was, so white, so clear. In her wedding dress.
Landon stood at the altar, his face alight with love and wonder. And in that moment, Josie knew he was the one Hope had been waiting for. The one she’d chosen. The one who would hold her through every storm.
As Hope reached the altar, her eyes met Josie’s for the briefest moment, and Josie smiled. She smiled because it was the only thing she could do. Because she loved Hope enough to let her go.
The ceremony began, words of love and promise filling the air. Josie stood there, a quiet witness to the beginning of a forever that didn’t include her. And as she watched Hope and Landon exchange vows, as she watched them seal their love with a kiss, she felt something inside her finally, irrevocably, break.
But even as the tears slipped down her cheeks, Josie knew she’d never stop loving her. Because some loves are too deep to ever truly die, no matter how much they hurt.
And so she stood, alone in the crowd, and whispered to herself, “God, how beautiful she was.”
The applause that followed Hope and Landon’s kiss was like a wave crashing over Josie, but she felt only the hollow echo of it in her chest. The rest of the congregation rose to their feet in celebration, but Josie’s legs felt as though they were carved from ice. She forced herself to stand, clapping softly along with the others, a fragile smile pinned to her lips.
God, how beautiful she was.
Hope’s gaze swept the crowd, landing on Josie for a brief moment, her smile radiant. And Josie saw it there—the tenderness in Hope’s eyes, the quiet gratitude that said I see you, Jo. It was both everything and nothing. Josie’s heart clung to it like a drowning sailor to driftwood, even as the knowledge of what she had lost carved deep into her ribs.
The newlyweds walked back up the aisle together, hand in hand, their steps slow and graceful. Josie watched them go, each step a soft echo of finality. She swallowed hard, tasting salt on her lips. She wanted to scream, to run after Hope and beg her to look back. But instead, she stood in the quiet hush that followed, her hands trembling at her sides.
The reception was held at a historic inn on the edge of town, the grand ballroom bathed in the glow of a hundred candles. Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead, and the tables were draped in ivory cloth, white roses and pale blue hydrangeas spilling from silver vases. The air smelled of winter and roses, a soft, wistful fragrance that clung to Josie like memory.
She took her seat at the table reserved for Hope’s closest friends, her eyes scanning the room as laughter and music filled the air. Hope and Landon were dancing, moving together with a grace that was almost painful to watch. Josie’s heart twisted at the sight of them—Hope’s head tipped back in laughter, Landon’s hand resting at the small of her back.
She looked away, focusing instead on the flicker of candlelight on the glassware, the muted murmur of voices around her. She took a sip of champagne, the bubbles sharp on her tongue. The glass clinked softly as she set it down, her fingers tracing the rim absently.
“Hey,” said a voice beside her. She turned to find MG sliding into the chair next to hers, his warm brown eyes gentle. “You okay?”
Josie forced a smile. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
MG gave her a look, the kind of look that said he saw right through her. “You don’t have to pretend, you know. I’m here if you need to talk.”
She shook her head, blinking quickly. “There’s nothing to talk about. This is Hope’s day. I’m happy for her.”
MG reached out, squeezing her hand. “You’ve always been stronger than anyone else I know. But it’s okay to be honest with yourself, Jo.”
She swallowed hard, the words catching in her throat. “I just… I want her to be happy. That’s all.”
“I know,” MG said softly. “I know you do.”
The night stretched on, the music shifting from soft ballads to upbeat tunes that had guests crowding the dance floor. Josie stayed in her seat, nursing her drink, watching as Hope moved through the room like moonlight—graceful and untouchable.
Every now and then, Hope would glance over at Josie, her smile bright, and Josie would smile back, even if it felt like her face might crack with the effort. She watched Hope dance with Landon, the two of them laughing, their bodies pressed close. It was everything Josie had imagined—Hope in white, her face lit with joy, the promise of forever in her eyes. But it wasn’t with her. It would never be with her.
She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the music wash over her, the ache in her chest pulsing with every beat.
God, how she was mine in my nights, in my dreams.
Later, when the first notes of a slow song began, Hope approached Josie, her eyes warm with invitation. “Dance with me?”
Josie hesitated, her heart pounding. She wanted to say no—to spare herself the pain of holding Hope close, knowing she’d never be hers. But she couldn’t deny Hope anything. She never could.
She nodded, rising from her seat. Hope took her hand, leading her to the dance floor. The world seemed to shrink around them, the music soft and sweet. Josie rested her hand on Hope’s waist, the warmth of her body searing through the thin fabric of her dress.
They moved together in a gentle sway, the candlelight flickering around them. Hope’s gaze met hers, soft and searching. “You’ve been quiet tonight.”
Josie swallowed hard. “I’m just… taking it all in.”
“I’m glad you’re here, Jo,” Hope whispered. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Josie’s lips curved in a small, sad smile. “You’d be fine. You always have been.”
Hope’s brow furrowed. “That’s not true. You’re… you’re part of me, Josie. You always will be.”
The words sank into Josie’s skin, bittersweet and tender. She wanted to hold onto them, to tuck them away in the corners of her heart where they wouldn’t hurt so much. But she knew she couldn’t. Not when every beat of the music was a reminder of what she could never have.
When the song ended, Hope pulled back slightly, her eyes shimmering. “Thank you,” she said softly.
Josie forced a smile. “Always.”
They returned to their separate corners of the room—Hope to Landon, Josie to her silent vigil at the table. She watched as the night wound on, as the laughter grew louder and the candles burned lower. And all the while, she kept her smile in place, even as her heart cracked and splintered under the weight of what she couldn’t say.
As the reception drew to a close, Hope found Josie one last time. She was still in her wedding dress, the white silk catching the light, her hair a soft halo around her face.
“Walk with me?” she asked.
Josie nodded, her legs feeling like lead as she rose. They stepped outside into the cold night, the snow falling in soft, feathery flakes around them. The air was sharp with winter, and Josie shivered as they walked slowly down the path behind the inn.
For a long moment, they said nothing. Just the sound of their footsteps on the snow-crusted ground, the quiet hush of the world around them.
Finally, Hope stopped, turning to face Josie. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed from the cold. “I wanted to say… thank you. For everything.”
Josie swallowed hard, her breath clouding in the night air. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just… glad I could be here for you.”
Hope reached up, cupping Josie’s cheek with her gloved hand. “You’ve always been there for me, Jo. Even when I didn’t deserve it.”
Josie leaned into her touch, closing her eyes. “You’ve always deserved it, Hope.”
Hope’s fingers trembled against her skin. “I wish… I wish things could be different sometimes.”
Josie opened her eyes, her heart hammering. “Do you?”
Hope nodded, a single tear slipping down her cheek. “But I love him. And he makes me happy.”
“I know,” Josie whispered, her voice breaking. “I know he does.”
They stood there in the cold, the snow swirling around them, the weight of everything they weren’t and could never be pressing in between them. And then Hope leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Josie’s forehead.
“Goodbye, Jo,” she whispered. “Thank you for loving me.”
Josie blinked back tears, her voice a fragile thread. “Goodbye, Hope.”
And with that, Hope turned and walked back toward the inn, the train of her wedding dress trailing in the snow like a ghost. Josie watched her go, the white silk fading into the darkness, and she felt something inside her finally give way.
She turned back toward the empty path, the snow falling heavier now, muffling the sounds of the celebration behind her. She walked slowly, each step a quiet surrender to the truth she had carried in her heart for so long.
God, how beautiful she was. In her wedding dress.
Josie knew she would never stop loving her. But some loves are meant to be silent—soft and hidden, like the snow that fell around her. And as she walked away from the warmth and the light, she let herself feel the ache of it, let herself cry for everything she had lost and everything she had never had.
Because in the end, she had loved Hope with everything she was. And that would have to be enough.