Sorry it took so long! I'm mostly to blame for than, but FanFiction's craziness lately didn't help either.

Again, thanks for everyone who reviewed/alerted/favourited this story. If I didn't answer all of you, it's because I figured you'd rather have it updated faster.

Beta'd by cokecrazy.


The funny thing about realisations is that when you finally come to one of them, you have a hard time understanding how could you possibly not see things for what they are before.

Also, they tend to create chain reactions.

I wouldn't be able to explain the reasons my mind missed all the signs of why I should have been more careful where Bill was concerned, because even I wasn't so blind. There were the signs.

Looking back now, I can see clearly with a cool head and what I saw made my skin crawl.

I've been mulling it in my head the whole day and the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to kick myself. It wasn't even the fact I thought Bill lied when he claimed to love me. There was a part of me that knew he really does. No, it was the way he went about proving that it that was disturbing.

Bill presented the image of a classic southern gentleman; well-mannered, a bit romantic, considerate – even if tormented and trapped in his vampire form. I used to think there was something heroic in his struggle to remain close to his humanity. He seemed perfect. On paper.

Was I in love with the idea of being with this man? Was I just ashamed of admitting to myself just how much I was wrong? How easily fooled?

He told me once I was his miracle. That loving me made him a better man. But I had some serious doubts that was the case.

His idea of showing me his love was to lock me up in a room and hide me from the world while feeding me pretty lies, and when that didn't work, cover it with more lies. While it was true Eric wasn't entirely innocent from with-holding things from me, I realised it wasn't fair to accuse him of manipulating me any more than accusing Bill. There was also a curious thing about Eric's lies, although I'm not even sure if that was the right word to call what he was doing. When I thought about it hard, I realized that Eric's stunts always painted an ugly picture of himself at the end of the day. With Bill, it was quite the opposite; his lies were designed to make him look better. Then, when I started peeling these layers off, the direction of my discoveries wasn't favourable to Bill.

The biggest lie Eric ever told me, I realised with a pang, was probably when he hissed I meant nothing to him.

I should probably go to Bill in the evening and confront him about what I heard, but after what I found, I didn't want to see him just yet. Scratch that. I didn't want to look at him.

I imagined what would have happened if Bill's plan had worked. Me crying after the loss of Eric's love or grieving his death, safely tucked in Bill's 'comforting' arms, the look of a fake compassion on his face. I felt slightly nauseous and more than angry at myself for being so stupid for so long.

I was shocked yesterday, when I learned Bill tried to kill Eric, but should I really be? I knew he failed to do this after Russel's demise. Not only that, he announced to me that night that he planned on killing Pam and his queen too. He killed my uncle Barlett when I told him my dark secret. The Rattrays.

It was just the way he was dealing with problems.

But him attempting to stake the innocent, vulnerable, amnesiac version of Eric told me something new about Bill: he didn't want him gone because he believed Eric was a threat to me, not really. He did it because Eric was in his way.

I failed to see how acting like this made Bill a better man.

Hell, I wasn't even sure if I liked the person I was with him that much.

Was it a pattern? How could I know he wouldn't do this again? Was he going to kill everyone who became too close to me for his liking? What was he going to do next? Kill Alcide? Sam?

A cold shiver ran down my back. Something that Alcide said this morning echoed in my mind: some people don't change.

Bill wasn't going to change. I needed to accept it. He wasn't trying to change his ways.

His love might be genuine, but it was suffocating. Toxic. I didn't question if what we had was real, but I wasn't so sure any more if it was good.

Good or not, it was over and I shouldn't even entertain the thought of reconciling with him. Truth to be told, as much as the break-up pained me (which was probably natural, considering the fact in my mind it all happened only few days ago), I didn't really want to be with him this way again, not after everything. I knew I wouldn't be able to fully trust him. Then why did I suddenly decided to bring this up again while talking with Eric?

The answer I came up with was not a pleasant one. Not. At. All.

I knew I needed to talk to him, but at this point I was afraid to even think of Eric. I wasn't sure what could I possibly tell him.

I was scared. I was confused. Probably bipolar as a result of ingesting too much vampire blood.

None of this was an excuse enough to stab Eric in his back like I had.

Deep down I was terrified, that he wouldn't even want to talk. I wouldn't blame him.

Than is, until Tara's revelations about Marnie being back forced me to face the possibility I'd never have a chance to find out any of this and that horrible statement I made during the conversation in Bill's mansion would be the last words I'd ever said to Eric Northman.