Back in 1997, I was very good friends with a witch named Helen Otto. At the time that I met her, she was twenty-two, loved to laugh, and was practising a very old kind of magic she had read about in one of the books her mother passed down to her. Arcane magic, as Helen and her mother liked to call it, was poorly understood. Even though the word arcane means known or understood, that branch of magic was very poorly understood even by those born with the powers. That kind of magic was came from reaching into a realm outside our typical reality. Their talents, from what I have read, was disturbing. The ability to manifestation of creatures, the ability to bind something found in the arcane realm to the human host with the purpose of giving new magic powers. It sort of reminded me of Bonnie when she was under Professor Shane's influence.

   Helen Otto tapped into arcane magic, into one of the darkest kinds of magic in the world. She became someone I didn't know, a new person that found the opposite of what she enjoyed repulsing. To save her, to stop her from torturing both herself and the people in the room, I pulled her heart out of her chest. The magic stop, peace spread around the room, and I was surrounded by eight dead bodies, one of them being my very good friend Helen Otto. It was the first time I ever killed someone for mercy, the hundredth time I felt horrible for a murder I had done.

   After being knocked out by her when I left The Grill, I woke up tied to a chair and my arms burning. I came to realise that the ropes that burned were soaked in vervain, something which made me both angry and groan out in pain. Each movement made the ropes burn just a bit more, just enough to draw blood and cover my clothes in red. I threw my head back and shut my eyes as tight as I could to stop myself from crying.

   "What is it that you want, Helen?" I panted, opening my eyes to stare at flickering light that swung on the ceiling.

   Someone laid a hand on my shoulder, and it burned. I screamed out as the hand stayed there, its nails digging into the back of my shoulder. The owner of the hand laughed. "Oh, Clara, it's been too long."

   "What do you want?" I cried, glaring at her. 

   "Isn't it obvious?" she asked, finally pulling her hand away. "I want to give you a lot of pain. I've been watching you for quite some time and I've come to learn that your life is already a pain in the ass. I mean: loving two boys, being a dopplegänger, taking care of another dopplegänger that is such a pain in the ass, all while pretending to be human. Tell me, Clara, is it fun pretending to be human when you have killed so many innocent people?" There was a grin around her lips, wide, a teasing one. "The only other vampire that is just as bad as you at being human us that hottie with the hero hair. You know, the other brother, the one you're sleeping with now. Stefan, right? Ugh, so cute!"

   I rolled my eyes and tightened my grip on the arms of the chair so I would stop crying. "What do you want, Helen?"

   "To make you suffer!" she hissed. She appeared in front of me, her hands tightening on my wrists, nails digging into my skin, nostrils flaring in anger. "You killed me, Clara. I thought we were good friends."

   "You were insane," I softly said. "You were killing innocent people."

   "Sort of like you," she smirked. "You've killed so many innocent people, Clara, just like I have. So, doesn't that mean that you should die, too?" She pulled away and strutted around me, keeping her hands behind her back. "I'd love to kill you; the problem is that you'd find peace if I do. So, me and my new friends are going to drag this on for a long, long time."

   "Friends?" I asked, swallowing hard. At that moment, I was scared. My hands shook and it felt like my heart was right at my throat.

   Helen smirked. "Oh, you know, just every vampire, witch, and werewolf you have ever killed." She giggled, like she were enjoying it. "That's a lot of people, Clara. A lot of pain. Trust me, we're going to have so much fun together." She walked back to the table at the corner of the room and picked up a cellphone, my cellphone. She leaned against the table and waved it in the air. "To be honest, these new phones are so much better than the ones in 1997. Remember then? Big and bulky and didn't fit in your pocket. They only had three games, a calculator, clock and calendar, and it also worked as a pager. Now, this thing is ten times better: a computer right on the palm of my hand."

   "Yeah," I breathed, glancing away from her. "Congratulations, Helen, you figured out technology."

   "You bet I did," she giggled. "While you were dead for like an hour, I figured out how to work this thing. I have been sending a few good pictures to the hottie with those gorgeous blue eyes. I must say, Clara, it's cute that he cares for you a bit less than that Elena chick."

   "Leave Damon out of this," I breathed, shaking my head. "He has nothing to do with this, Helen. This is just between you and me."

   "That's where you're wrong," she said, laying my phone back down. "He's your friend, he cares, he has everything to do with this. I want to make you suffer, Clara, which means I need to make all your friends suffer." She dipped her hands in a bowl water while she smirked at me. The water had something floating in it, a familiar plant that every vampire hated. She pulled her hands away and walked over to me. "By the way, you're going to miss graduation."

   Every time I passed out from the unbearable pain, it was the only moments of peace that I found. When I woke up, it would start all over again. It came to the point where Helen pushed the few vervain plants into my mouth, making me cough up blood. It came to the point where she got bored with the burning and began to break my bones. My fingers were disfigured, my hands were nailed down to the chair with wooden nails, I was bleeding from everywhere, and I was terrified. I thought that at any moment she would kill me, that at any moment she would finally rip my heart out of my chest. And to be honest, I thought that it would be a relief to die. It came to the point where I wished for her to already kill me.

   "Please..." I pleaded. I was crying, already wanting the suffering to end. "Stop this, please."

   "We're just getting started, Clara," she smirked. She dipped a hand in the vervain water and walked over to me. My phone was raised in one hand, a small bit of light on her face. "Now, say hello to your boyfriend." She pushed her hand into my chest and grabbed my heart with her vervain covered hand.

   I screamed, tightening the grip on the arm of the chair. My nails dug into the wood as my screams echoed around the small room. I pleaded for her to stop, over and over again as her hand squeezed my heart with vervain. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to die. I wanted to die, just to get rid of the pain. I wondered whether Elena thought the same when we tortured her to get her humanity back; did she also want to die? The difference between her and me was that she knew we wouldn't let her die. I didn't know what Helen had in mind.

   "And send," she sang, pulling her hand away from my chest. She stared at her blood covered hand in disgust and walked over to the bowl of vervain to clean it. "That hottie must be worried for you, Clara. This is the eighth time he's called." She dried her hands with towel and picked up the phone, putting it to her ear. "Hello?"

   "Who are you?" Damon spat from the other side of the phone.

   Helen giggled. "I'm an old friend of Clara's," she said, turning to me with a wide grin. "You probably don't know me since, you know, she killed me."

   "Please," I panted, "just let me go..."

   "Oh, we're not done," Helen grinned. "But, I'll let you talk to Damon, how about that?" She walked over to me and put the phone to my ear. "I'll let you say your goodbye's."

   "Damon..." I breathed. I felt the ache at the back of my throat, the sting on my nose that made we want to cry.

   "Clara," he said in a hurry. "Where are you?"

   "I don't know," I cried. I sniffed and glanced around. "I'm in some storage unit, probably at the end. There's a small window on the wall." Each word that escaped my mouth, I cried just a bit harder. "Please hurry. I can't hang on anymore—AH!"

   Helen had poured the water over my head, making me burn. I screamed and convulsed on my seat, trying to get the pain to subdue. My hands tightened on the arm of the chair, my skin burned like the time I jumped into the well to retrieve the moon stone. Just like that time, I passed out.

   When I woke up it was morning. The sun was shining bright, the birds sang, and I was too comfortable. I sat up and noticed that I was outside, and I was wearing a white chemise. With surprise and confusion, I ran my hands down the dress and furrowed my brows. I pushed myself up from the ground and took a good look at my surroundings, noticing that I was by a stable. There were a few horses neighing, but the one that caught my attention the most was a beautiful black horse that reminded me of midnight. With a soft smile, I walked up to it and gently petted it. It quietly neighed, pushing my hand back with it's muzzle but still allowed me to continue petting her. 

   "Do you remember her?" a voice asked behind me. I abruptly turned to see Stefan standing there, his hands behind his back and a small smile on his lips. It only widened when he noticed that I was paying attention to him. "Do you remember her, Clara?"

   I turned back to the horse. "Mezzanotte," I recalled, giving the horse a small smile as I laid my hand back on her muzzle. "Her name is Mezzanotte. She's yours."

   "You remember her," Stefan chuckled. He now stood besides me, his hand on the other side of the horses muzzle. He looked at me. "Do you know where we are?"

   I shrugged my shoulders. "Home?"

   "Home," he nodded. "Well, technically, a dream."

   "If it's a dream, then how are you here?" I questioned. When I recalled what had happened to me, my eyes widened in fear. "Oh my god, Stefan, am I dying?"

   Stefan let out a chuckle and shook his head. "Dying, no. Weak, yes." He walked around the horse and took a step in front of me. "Clara, you were being tortured by that woman. Helen, you called her." He laid a hand on my cheek, gently running his thumb up and down. "You were covered in so much blood when I found you; I thought you were dead."

   "Where am I now?" I quietly asked, crossing my arms and biting down one of my nails. "Please, tell me I'm not in that storage unit."

   "No, no, no, Clara!" He shook his head and laid his other hand on my other cheek. "We got you out as soon as we got there. Damon ripped that girl's head off, so she won't be coming back for some time now."

   "Where am I now?" I repeated. 

   "You're in your room," Stefan smiled. "You're laying on my chest, I'm running my hands through your hair. Lexi's sitting besides me. She's, uh, laughing."

   At that moment, I actually smiled. "Why is she laughing?"

   "She finds all of this amusing," he said, letting out another chuckle. "She's now leaving to get you some blood bags for when you wake up."

   I let out a groan and ran a hand through my hair. "Oh my god, I missed the graduation!"

   Stefan laughed, softly. "It's all on video," he said. "Mayor Hopkins had the AV Club tape it all."

   I pulled away from him and ran a hand through my hair. "How, uh... How is everyone?"

   "Everyone's okay," he nodded. "Some hunter from the island returned, shot Damon with a werewolf laced bullet, and is now laying at the bottom of the quarry with his head pulled off."

   I stared at him in surprise. "How is Damon?" I asked, scared. "Is he..."

   "He's good," Stefan smiled. "Klaus came back. After he gave us some blood to cure him, he asked me about you."

   "And what did you tell them?"

   "That you're back home and under the watchful eye of Lexi," he softly said as he took my hand. "Everyone received those pictures and videos, Clara. Caroline called me crying and begging to save you, Elena was worried, Bonnie was scared for you and offered to help. Surprisingly, even Matt was worried for you." He trailed off as he stared at me, as confusion covered his features. "Clara, who was that woman?"

   I swallowed back hard and looked down at out hands. "Her name is Helen," I quietly began. "Helen Otto from Dresden, Germany. I met her in 1997 when I was backpacking through Europe. At first, I thought she was an ordinary human that enjoyed travelling. After a few weeks of travelling together, we were at a hostel in Košice, Slovakia. It was hot, sunny, the middle of summer. She made it snow in our room."

   "She made it snow?" Stefan asked, surprised and intrigued. 

   "It was like those Harry Potter movies," I told him. "Have you seen them? When they're in the Great Hall for Christmas and the ceiling is covered with falling snow but it doesn't really reach the ground? That was what she did."

   "That's a great way to phrase it," he smiled, amused.

   "Okay, those are great movies," I said, pointing at him and smiling. "Even greater books. Shut up."

   He laughed and raised his hands in defence. "I didn't say anything about the movies, or the books."

   "Anyway," I continued, a small smile still on my lips. It soon left when I recalled what I was saying. "Helen was practising some dark magic; she said the magic was misunderstood, which was why the witches didn't really like it. This magic was doing something to her, sort of like when Bonnie was under Silas' control, but darker. It was like she was playing with fire and didn't care that she was getting burned." I took a deep breath, and noticed that Stefan and I were no longer standing by his horse. We were sitting on a wooden bench, shoulders touching, a garden in front of us. It took me no time to realise that we were sitting in the garden behind my house, the one my mother had planted while she was pregnant with Charlotte.

   "In 1999, we went to Krakow, Poland," I continued. "This city was built for parties, especially for travellers. All the hostels offered pub-crawls, vodka tastings, and mixers; they specialised in getting people out and having fun. Throw in very cheap drinks, locals who like to toast vodka with everyone, and you have a recipe for a wild time. During one of those wild times, this group of boys decided that the best way to flirt was to feel us up. Helen got furious, so she began to use her magic on them. She began to hurt them, just a prick to the skin, like a bee sting. But, then it began to get worse. The boys screamed, and screamed, and screamed bloody murder, but everyone didn't care. They thought it was part of a show, or something. But, her magic got out of control. From the boys, it went on to the people around them. Helen's bones began to crack, but that didn't stop her. Eighteen bodies later, I decided to stop her." 

   I looked into Stefan's eyes, seeing my reflection in them. As I spoke, it seemed that I had began to cry. There were a few tear stains down my cheeks, eyes glossy and lips slightly chapped. Even though, I looked completely different in Stefan's eyes. My hair was longer, my eyes were brighter, my cheeks were redder. The version of me in my dreams, in the small bit of solitude between Stefan and I, I was human. That scared me more than anything.

   I looked away and cleared my throat. "I pulled Helen's heart out of her chest to stop her from killing anybody else. I guess she's still hung up on that." I glanced down and bit my bottom lip, slightly shaking. "It was the first time I was truly terrified, Stefan. It was the first time I thought I was really going to die, and I was terrified. When I went to sacrifice myself for Jenna, I didn't mind dying. When I was bitten by those failed hybrids that belonged to Klaus, I didn't mind dying. But when Helen came, when I saw her, I was terrified. She tortured me, and it was then when I realised that I really wanted to die. I wanted to die so badly, just to get rid of the pain."

   "Clara," Stefan said, taking a hold of my hand. "You're okay now."

   "No, I know," I said, nodding and trying to calm myself from crying. "But, back then, I just... It was the worst thing in my life. I wanted the pain to be over, I wanted everything to be over; I just wanted to die, I just wanted to go back home."

   He squeezed my hand, a small sign to tell me that it would be okay. When I looked at him, he gave me a small smile and repeated the same thing as before, "You're okay now, Clara. It's all okay." After he spoke, his eyes focused on nothing. When they focused back, a wider smile appeared on his lips. "Jeremy's here. He wants to check up on you."

   "Jeremy's here?" I asked, surprised for a moment. I then recalled the night before, when Bonnie dropped the veil, when Elena tried to apologise for almost killing her, and then Little Gilbert—bless his soul—appeared. I smiled, softly. "Tell him I'm okay, and that I'm glad he's back, even if it's for a little while."

   "He wants you to know that he's glad you're okay," Stefan said. "And that, uh, he's rooting for us."

   "For us?" I raised a brow in confusion. After a few seconds, I understood and let out a laugh. "Tell him that if I were awake, I would kick his ass."

   Stefan let out a soft laugh and glanced down. "He, uh, left laughing and said that you wished you could."

   "Oh, now I'd really like to kick his ass," I muttered, making a face. There was a part of me that was happy that Jeremy was back, even if it was for a few hours. I missed the guy, I missed the hateful looks he would give me, the jokes he would say out of nowhere. He reminded me a lot of Thomas, my brother.

   After a few moments of silence, I took a deep breath and looked over at Stefan. "Why did you pick this place?" I asked, pulling my legs up.

   He shrugged his shoulders. "You once brought me back to the ruins," he said. "You said it would always be home, even if there wasn't anything left of them. I wanted to bring you back to the time when everything was still intact, when there were no ruins." He took a deep breath and glanced back at the garden, a small smile at his lips. "How did I do?"

   "Perfect," I breathed, looking back at the garden. "It's just how I remember it." I pointed at a corner of the garden, letting out a short laugh. "Those were the marigolds that Abraham and Thomas ruined while they were playing with a ball. They were my mother's favourite flowers. She was so angry at them that she sent them to their rooms without supper and told them to write her an apology." I turned to Stefan and smiled, genuinely, not really afraid at that moment. "She once told me that she thought of naming me Marigold, after them. She only decided against that when she learned that Clara meant clear, bright."

   "I like Marigold," Stefan softly said, smiling. "Sort of suits you."

   I made a face and shook my head. "Are you serious? Ugh, I hate that name." I looked back at the flowers and tilted my head to the side. "Marigold Lenora Forbes." I made a face and shook my head. "Yeah, no thanks."

   Stefan laughed and shook his head. I stared at him for as long as I could, admiring him, his laughter and the smile he gave me. There was something about him that made me feel so warm, so safe. It was like cuddling into bed on a cold day, under warm blankets, a good movie on the TV, and nothing more but serenity. Stefan felt like that, like comfort and safety and warmth. He felt like autumn, when the leaves began to colour, the sky began to go a beautiful blue in the evenings, the breeze would be cool, and you'd just need a thin jacket. I loved autumn the most out of all four season, and I loved him, too. And that was weird to say, even to think.

   Stefan was the boy that I found crying when his mother died; the boy that got beaten up when a group of boys harassed me; the boy that offered to run away with me at the age if fifteen; the boy who was always there for me when I needed someone, even during the middle of the night; the boy who I so easily fell for and have always denied. To me, it was a surprise that I fell for him, it was a wonder. But, to be honest, I no longer minded that I did. In fact, I rather liked that I fell for him.

   "What are you smiling at?" Stefan asked, staring at me with his brows raised. 

   "I was just thinking," I said, taking in a deep breath and continuing to stare at him. 

   "About?"

   "You," I softly said. I grabbed his hand and looked down at it, running my thumb up and down. "Me. Us. Past. Present. Ugh, so many things."

   He smiled and leaned closer to me. "Uh, why are you thinking about us?"

   "Because I have realised something very, very important," I told him. "Very important, Stefan."

   "Okay, and what is this very, very important thing that you have realised, Clara?"

   I stared at him and bit my bottom lip, wondering whether to tell him or not. If I didn't, I would probably regret it for the rest of my life. If I did, well, I didn't know what the hell could happen? But, that was the mystery of loving someone, right? The thrill of falling for someone, of loving them, of being unsure what every word and action will cause, of just, simply them. So, I took a deep breath, stood, and turned away from him.

   "Stefan," I began, "I, uh..." I turned to him and drank him in. He looked so nice sitting there, green eyes wide and curious, a small crooked smile. I took a deep breath. "I've been down this path before. I know this feeling. Like I need you. And that feeling is very, very terrifying because I don't know what the consequences of my words and actions can be. And I know it's weird because we're in a freaking dream right now, and maybe I should just wait to tell you when I wake up."

   Stefan chuckled and shook his head. "Clara, what is it that you want to tell me?"

   I took a deep breath, but kept it in my mouth and made my cheeks big. Just for a couple of seconds, and then I blew it out when I realised that if I kept it back, I would regret it. So, I stared into his eyes and nodded. "Stefan, I–"

   "Don't say it," he broke in, standing. He walked over to me and laid his hands on my cheeks, smiling. He leaned in and pecked me on the lips. "Say it when you're awake."

   "But–"

   He shook his head. "When you're awake, tell me." He took a deep breath and sighed. "Elena's here."

   "Hmm, great," I hummed, taking a seat back on the bench.

   "She wants to make sure that you're okay," he said, smiling. The smile faded and he stayed quiet for a couple of seconds.

   "Stefan?" I raised a brow and watched as he took a seat besides me. His brows were furrowed, as if he were surprised and confused. He stared nowhere, obviously focusing in real life more than this dream he gave me.

   "She, uh, she gave me the cure," he finally said. "I gave it back to her, because I don't deserve this cure. We did, in fact, get it for her."

   "Well, you are pretty bad at being a vampire," I mused.

   He laughed and looked at me, shaking his head. "The choice whether she wants to be a vampire or not will always be hers," he said, nodding. He let out a deep breath and smiled. "I've come to terms that she loves Damon, that she's in the past, and that we will never be together again." He shrugged his shoulders, still smiling. "I kind of like that I'm over it."

   I rolled my eyes, but smiled as if I were amused. "You know, me too."

  He sarcastically laughed and took a seat next to me. He laid his hand on my cheek again, like he had done several times, and kissed me. Soft and gentle, then roughed as if he just wanted to kiss me. I smiled into the kiss and laid my hand on his cheek, almost as if I were pulling him closer to me. I enjoyed his lips on mine, the simple touch of skin against skin. He was the first one to pull away, yet kept his lips brushed against mine with a soft smile. 

   "I have to go," he said, keeping his hand on my cheek. "I'm taking Silas' body away. Lexi's coming with me."

   I licked my lips and nodded, pulling further away from him, but still smiling "Thank you, Stefan."

   "For?"

   "For saving me," I said as I took a look around. "For giving me this dream. For staying with me while I'm half dead."

   He smiled and nodded, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's my pleasure," he said. "Clara, for you it was nothing." He took a deep breath and stood. "When you wake up, drink the blood that on the nightstand."

   It was like waking up from a deep dream. My limbs hurts, every inch of my body hurt, and I just wanted to lay back in bed and sleep for years. I slowly turned my body to the side, letting out a soft groan and a big inhale. When the scent of blood came through my nostrils, I remembered what Stefan said in my dream before he left. With my eyes still closed, I reached for the blood bag on the night stand, ripped it open, and swallowed it whole without a care in the world. When I finished, I groaned and slowly sat up. 

   I was back in my room, which was thankfully dimly lit. I ran my hands against my eyes and speculated whether I should leave the comfort of my bed. Within a few seconds, I decided it'd be better to stand. I slowly did, groaning with each movement I made. I pulled on an oversized hoodie and walked downstairs. Alaric stood by the window, Damon by the decanter of bourbon. He poured a few glasses, and handed me one. 

   "You look like crap," he said before he took a drink. "Drink that. It'll help."

   I brought the glass to my lips and downed it, making a face when I finished. "Thanks." I turned to look at Alaric, giving him a small smile. "Welcome back, Alaric. I've... I've missed you."

   He smiled, amused. "Thanks, Clara," he chuckled. "It's good to be back. I'm, uh, glad that you're alive."

   "Thanks," I said as I served myself another glass of bourbon. "Glad to be not dead."

   Alaric turned and gazed out the window. "Moon's full," he noted.

   "Yeah," Damon answered, taking a seat on the sofa. 

   "Where's Elena?"

   "She's trying to find Bonnie and Jeremy," Damon answered. "She's worried about the time."

   Alaric smiled at him, making the older Salvatore look at him confused. Even still, Alaric continued to smile. "You got the girl, man."

   "It happened?" I asked, feeling happy for Damon. "You got her?" It was at that moment when I realised that I loved Damon, but it wasn't the love like before. He was a friend, best friend, a man I could count on whenever anything happened—no more.

   Damon looked as if he couldn't quite believe it. "I got the girl," he uttered, nodding.

   "Now don't screw it up," Alaric warned with a soft chuckle. 

   "Well, with you looking over my shoulder, how can I?" Damon asked.

   I looked up towards the window, where Alaric was supposed to be. He was no longer standing there, no longer there. Alaric had disappeared, which meant Bonnie had pulled down the veil. I swallowed hard and looked down at the glass of alcohol in my hand, hating that he was dead. I hated that I couldn't really help when he turned into a vampire, when he became crazy, when he died. I hated that this world was screwed up and nothing was fair. But, I also liked it, as strange as that was. 

   I took a seat on the sofa besides Damon and pulled my feet up, keeping a tight hold of the glass between my two hands. "How are you feeling?" I asked, breaking the silence in the room.

   He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," he responded, sounding a bit confused.

   "I know that feeling," I said, the rim of the glass between my lips. "Sucks."

   "You had a long sleep," he said, probably deciding to change the conversation. "How do you feel?"

   "Like I've been hit by a truck," I told him, letting out a long sigh. "Several times."

   "I know that feeling," he said, raising his glass in the air and swallowing what was left. 

   "Thanks for saving me," I said, glancing at him. "I owe you my life."

   "You don't owe me anything, Clara," he said, rolling his eyes. "Just stay alive and we're good."

   "Look at you caring and all," I mused, bumping him with my shoulder. Well, I went in with a bump but stayed with my head leaning on his shoulder, tired, weak. "Really, Damon, thank you."

   Damon's arm went around my shoulders. "It was the first time I've seen you so afraid. Well, as a vampire. You were a scaredy-cat when you were human."

   "Shut up," I groaned, playfully rolling my eyes. I took a deep breath and glanced down. "How can you expect me not to be afraid when I thought I would die?"

   "Because you have faced death so many times," he said, chuckling. "Katherine, the Original vampires, Klaus, witches, Klaus, werewolves, hybrids, now a ghost."

   "And out of all, I was more afraid of a ghost," I softly said, annoyed. 

   "Well, she did do more damage," he said, almost agreeing with me. "Stefan probably told you that we found you covered in blood. We thought you were dead, Clara. I'm glad you're not."

   "I'm glad I'm not, either," I said, nodding.

   Damon pulled away from me and looked down at me with uncertainty. "Clara, you should know something important," he said, the look still there. "Stefan left."

   "I know," I nodded. "He said he was going to take care of Silas' body with Lexi."

   He shook his head. "No, Clara, that's not the left that I meant. He left, and by that I mean he is leaving. Lexi wanted him to go, start a new life, and he left. I'm sorry."