I do not want to do this. I don't want to lie to Dante, to deceive him. As I walk slowly back toward the infirmary, I try to think of some way around this. But the more I consider Dante as a person, the more I see that there is no other way. Carla and Four are right: I must do this thing, and I must do it with enough conviction that Dante believes it. The ironic thing is, neither of them realize just how important it is that I go through with this. They both think that they know, yes: Four believes that Dante and I have become too close, too serious about our relationship since his mishap. He feels that our relationship will interfere with our scores in Stage Two. Carla knows that Dante has a fear that is so terrible that it could put his life in jeopardy. She doesn't understand that it's not a reaction to the fear that is the threat, but the revelation of the fear itself to the test administrators.
Knowing the truth does not make the task ahead of me any easier. I'm practically dragging my feet when I reach the infirmary. But by this point, despite my loathing, I have decided how I will do this.
It is midafternoon when I arrive back, having stopped off in the Pit for some lunch that I did little more than pick at. The nurse on duty is the familiar Kylie. I try to look cheerful when I wave to her after she acknowledges me and waves me toward Dante's ward, but my smile is stiff and does not come easily.
Dante is resting when I finally reach his bed, his eyes closed. I watch him for a few moments, knowing that this will be the last quiet, peaceful time that I can spend in his presence for a long time. I hope that, when this is all over, that I can make him see, that he will understand, and that he will forgive me.
I hope one day that we can be something close to what we are now.
He opens his eyes when I sit down in the chair beside his bed.
He turns his head to face me.
His eyes are alight with hope.
My heart breaks.
"Hello, beautiful," he murmurs. Tears well in my eyes, and he sees them. "Hey, what is it?"
He reached for me. I deliberately recoil. He looks confused.
"Don't, Dante," I say quietly, my voice quivering.
"Rain, what's wrong?" He asks, making a second attempt to reach for me. I bolt from my seat to beyond his reach.
"Don't touch me, Dante," I hiss through clenched teeth, as the tears begin to spill down my face. I can't believe I'm doing this. "Don't touch me, and don't come near me. I can't believe you kept something like this from me for so long. I thought we trusted each other. I thought you loved me."
"Rain, no, I do!" he protests. He looks frightened now, on top of confused. Good.
I feel horrible.
"No, Dante. You don't. If you did, you would have told me about this right away. Maybe then I could have helped. Maybe I would have wanted to. But now… you leave it til now to tell me? Now, after I lost my best friend? After I tried so hard to save someone who ended up dying anyway? You think I don't have enough problems of my own? That you can just dump something like this on me now, at the last second, and expect me to hold your hand?" I am nearly shouting.
I hear Kylie call down the ward, asking if we are okay. I hear her shoes clicking on the concrete floor as she rushes toward us.
We are definitely not okay.
"Rain… no… please…" Dante sounds near panic, the desperation and confusion clear on his face.
"I don't want to hear it. You're on your own. I have my own self to worry about; I can't bear the burden of your problems while I'm dealing with all of my own." I stifle a sob and turn to leave just as Kylie reaches us. I dodge around her, and never even glance back at Dante.
I can hear him calling out my name, asking me to wait, his voice becoming more ragged as his helplessness to stop me is realized, until the infirmary door slams shut behind me. I keep walking; I keep sobbing.
I need to be alone somewhere. Preferably somewhere dark and soundproof where I can scream and wail and no one will ever hear me. There is no place like that in the Dauntess compound that I know of, but I do know a place where I can hide my tears.
I take off at a run, heading for the shower room beside my dorm. It's midafternoon, and people usually only use them in the morning or right before dinner. I am crying and sobbing uncontrollably when I reach it, and am more grateful than I've ever been for anything when I find that it is in fact deserted.
I have brought neither a towel nor a change of clothes with me, but right now I don't care. I don't even bother to undress. I turn the water on full blast and stand under the torrent. I know it is probably just wishful thinking, but I hope the sound of the running water is obliterating the low, moaning howls that are resonating from my chest to my throat to my mouth.
This is the worst thing that I have ever done to someone in my life. This is the ultimate betrayal. Just a few hours ago, I was a pillar of strength: I told Dante to trust me, promised him that I would do all I could to help him, and returned to him with words of anger and abandonment. I have hurt him.
I tell myself that I did it for his benefit. That by believing he's losing me it will trigger a greater fear in his mind than the one he believes to be his greatest. From the look on his face as I was leaving, I believe that I have succeeded. I tell myself that it had to be done because Four ordered it and Carla told me that it would be for the best, and logically it makes sense, considering what Dante would be facing if I hadn't. I tell myself that I have done this in order to save his life.
But it does not change the fact that I have hurt him, and that I may have done irreparable damage to Dante, who is already socially unstable and has some serious trust issues. He had just placed a huge amount of trust in me with a single confession, and now he believes that I have set that confidence aside for my own selfish means.
I assure myself that someday, when we are both safely through Stage Two, that I will be able to tell him the truth. I hope that he will understand why I did what I did, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do to him. I never wanted to lie to him, and I never, ever wanted to hurt him. Now, in one move, I have done both.
For this I will never, ever be able to forgive myself.
And if Dante can't either, I will have to live with that.
But that does not change the fact that I do love him. That I will always love him. That everything I have done, and every moment of pain that this has brought and will bring over the duration of Stage Two, will all be because I love him.