"No, Tate. No. We can't. Sorry."
"Violet, no. I would take it all back if I could."
"Well you can't. You raped my mom, and she died because of it. And it's your damn fault."
Tate started shaking me violently. His soft hands shook as he held me. I had to remind myself that I was disgusted with him. Though it was hard to refuse his innocent dimples when he cried or his trembling arms as he tried to somehow change the words coming out of my mouth.
"Tate, I mean it. I love you. I fucking love you. Do you know what this is like for me? I finally find someone that I'd actually want to be with and then you do this with her? I put aside the fact that you're a murderer. I thought you were different than that. Like maybe you didn't want to be that person anymore. I get that this house makes you do crazy shit, but anonymously screwing my mom? Ultimately killing her? You know what they said that baby is going to become? Do you know? Well, it's the anti-Christ. Congratulations Tate, on top of everything you've done, you've brought about the end of the world. Good fucking job. Now I need you to go. I can't look at you."
"I have never known remorse, Violet Harmon. I've never known what it's like to feel sorry about killing someone. I don't want to kill anyone anymore; not since I met you. I'm lost Violet. You can't leave me, I don't think I could handle it. You're my only hope Vi. I need you. If I had already known how much I would have grown to love you at the time I was forced to rape Vivien, I would have never."
Everything he said was killing me. I could feel his emotions building up inside of him. It wasn't exactly rage, but desperation written across his face. He was begging; whimpering, almost. I didn't want to be doing this to him. It was as close as I could come to killing a dead person. But it was necessary. But what did he mean by forced to?
"What are you talking about? No one made you rape my mom. And it shouldn't have mattered who she was. You raped someone, you're a disgusting human being. And don't call me Vi. Sorry, pet names from sociopaths kind of make me want to throw up."
"You don't understand Violet. You don't get it... But I'll leave you alone. That's what you want. All I care about is what you want."
The words pained me to hear, as I watched his face twist with each word that came out of his mouth. I wanted to take back everything I had said, and reassure him that it would all be okay. But it wouldn't. It would not be okay, at all. So I stuck to the truth and tried to keep the emotions out and on I went.
"What do you mean I don't understand? What else is there to understand? You screwed my mom. Yet, you hate Constance because she was a cock sucker. Who are you? Not much better..."
"Violet please don't make me go. Please. I'll do anything..."
"I have to be with you for the rest of eternity. Isn't that enough? Leave, Tate."
The coldness of the words seemed to whip his entire body as he nearly winced in pain. "As you wish, my lady."
"Don't call me that."
"You may not want to be with me, but I'll love you forever. Goodbye, love."
In agony I watched the love of my life walk out of the attic, leaving me alone. I didn't know which was worse; being a psychotic murdering dead rapist or consciously loving one. But regardless, I was all alone. Alone to face the dead community I was now a part of. Alone in a house full of deranged, baby-hungry psychos. Alone to face a part of being I had never imagined. I had always been independent, but never had I been as alone as I was in the attic. Or so I thought.