A/N: Last chapter here. Hope you enjoy the grand finale.
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When Pavi came out and confessed his love for me, I wasn't surprised—not completely. I kind of knew it had been coming. His touches had gotten more tender, our conversations deeper. I employed all of my supportive friend vibes in order to aid in his conversion back to what he had once been, into a man I wouldn't despise. I wanted him to feel what it was like to have someone who really cared. More than anything, I wanted him to know what a normal life felt like; one that didn't involve concealing himself behind a mask and that wasn't plagued with innumerable sexual encounters.
My primary concern was his face. I didn't want Pavi to continue the façade that he was someone other than himself. Fortunately, he had kept his original face after its removal. It was still perfectly preserved after all the years that had passed and fit better than any of the other skins he had worn. It still had the slightly distorted, waxy look of a corpse, but it was better than the woman's faces he had been wearing like fashion accessories. After we hooked it to where it belonged, I persuaded him to dispose of his collection of stolen skin. He was hesitant, but eventually obliged. We spent a while looking into the fireplace, watching at the flesh sizzled and melted, throwing off clouds of the toxic fumes of the preservatives. It was our first step in the unspoken process, one that spanned over time spent in close confines, relishing each other's company. I figured that was the way to aid him—shower him with enough care to alter his thoughts on the world.
For a while, it looked like I had succeeded. Sure, we continued to sleep with each other, but it was different than before. He was spending less time with the Genterns, and never once did I hear of another girl being invited to his bedroom. In all honesty, for that I was glad. Granted, it would have been a considerable improvement if he had just limited himself to a girl per week, but a small bubble of protectiveness had blossomed in my chest. Whenever I saw him with the Genterns, the jealousy grumbled. It was barely evident, but I knew it was there.
I had not professed any love for him at the time of his confession. It was Pavi Largo, after all—the man I had detested for so long. I was only helping him. Surely he would develop some sort of feeling for me because of the time we spent together. I suppose that the same could be said for me. However, I didn't think it meant I loved him. And yet, I hated to see him with other women. I wanted him all to myself. My only comfort was in knowing that he was not sleeping with half the population any more. At least that had changed.
I guess that I'm lying a bit, or at least understating my feelings. With the amount of my soul that I had poured back into Pavi, it was hard not to be aware of some sort of emotion stirring in my heart. Every now and then, I caught myself imagining a proper relationship with him. It seemed almost plausible now. Each time I kissed his lips, I couldn't help but envision the two of us together, content and in love. I was proud of what alterations I had wrought. Too much time had been spent with this man for me to not hold a candle to him. So much had changed in just a few months. At times I still felt like a hypocrite, but at others, it was nice to have someone.
I'm sure that, for the millionth time, I have you sighing about how this story has followed a predictable path. This is the point where the heroine is supposed to admit her love for the reformed hero. She changes him for the better! He becomes a normal human being! They lived happily ever fucking after!
Well, how happily ever after is it to see your love with someone else?
Walking in on the two of them nearly made me vomit. Completely naked and writhing, skin coated by a sheen of sweat, Pavi and the woman—one of the new Genterns from the cosmetology department, I could tell—both looked up at the intrusion. Pavi's face fell then. It was hilariously and perversely tragic. It's unbelievable that so much expression can show behind a mask, even one that is your own.
"Bella..." he whispered, but by then it was too late. The damage had been done.
I had done nothing to cure him of his addiction. Even my unending stream of encouragement had failed to convert him into someone with rational behaviour. I had given him my love and care—the first person to have ever done so! And this was how he repaid me, by fucking yet another girl. For all I knew, it could have been going on ever since our talk. If that sort of bonding hadn't kept him from sleeping with multiple women, then nothing would.
It was pain beyond anything I had ever felt; pure devastation in all senses of the word. It tore at my heart, ripping down what had been constructed so carefully on top of the fragile base of lies. A deception is always worse when you've consciously denied its possibility for so long. Even the faintest thought of what I had stumbled upon crushed me inside. I should have seen it coming. My first impressions of him had been completely correct. And yet, I had still invested so much of my life in his company, most of which I had spent trying to delude myself that he had changed.
People don't change.
It's a hard lesson to learn, and it's one that's only truly appreciated once you've felt the brunt of its blow. I may have set myself up to be the victim, but I'm not about to do it again.
It still makes me laugh a bit to think that Pavi thought he loved me. He took the feelings of non-sexual emotion and connected them to the mythical word he had only heard associated with concepts and inanimate objects. I'll bet he thought it was a romantic idea, that this girl who cared for him a bit could be his first great love. Yes, perhaps I was the love of his life until the new girl came along. All she would have had to do was blink seductively and beckon with a finger, and he would've lost all restraint. Love is nothing but an illusory notion to the Pavi Largos of this world, a fantastical dream that sounds nice in theory but is difficult to maintain in real life.
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I have a bit of a life now. I managed to procure a simple job. It's nothing astounding, but it's enough to have gotten me out of my dilapidated triplex and into a small house of my own. Lana and I don't talk that often, but the fence is being mended, albeit slowly. Luckily enough, my job has introduced me to new people and my social life doesn't depend on one person any more. It was a tough climb to get out of the hole of isolation into which I had dug myself, but it had been possible. Without the foolish dreams and hopeless prospects of the past weighing me down, things have become much simpler.
Now and then I see Pavi downtown, going for walks, always with a new girl by his side. Some days he sees me. He never waves, but I can tell that he recognizes me just by the way his eyes change ever so slightly. They narrow, become sadder than any frown, and reveal the soul just as scarred as his face. His eyes had always been his giveaways.
He always looks away then, strutting along as if nothing had happened.
Occasionally, I feel a bit of what I had felt back then—a longing to save someone who can't be helped.
Sometimes, I wonder if he still loves me.
And sometimes...I think I still love him.
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-end-
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A/N: Well, folks, it's all over. I sincerely hope you liked the story :) Reviews are love, and concrit is appreciated. Thanks for reading!
