There was no surprise on Stefin's face, only a mask of regret. He'd known what I was really asking, that I saw them that morning. Whether Melora had bragged or he felt me through the door, it was irrelevant. Now, I knew he'd had time to build the perfect answer. He had the time to craft a lie.
"I was scared - no, I was terrified. Terrified of what I felt for you." The words came perfectly, with just the right intonation. Rehearsed, I thought cynically.
I paused for a moment, pondering. The sentiment seemed like the perfect response, it was everything I wanted to hear. And yet, it wasn't enough. The part of me that was a romantic, withered and shunned though it was, begged me to hear him out. It blossomed at his rationalization, yelling brightly for me to accept Stefin's words. But, I was wounded. As hard as I tried not to, I'd once again let a man in close enough to hurt me. And, he did. There was no trust anymore, no faith in the process. We were bound to fail from the beginning. All Stefin had done was play right into my expectations.
"Even if that's true," I made clear in my tone how little I trusted his words, "it's the most spineless, cowardly thing I've ever heard."
I waited for Stefin to respond, to appeal again and beg me to accept his rationalization. When nothing came, I felt betrayed all over again.
"You are weak, and puny, and - and small, Stefin." He just stood there, and took my insults. It enraged me further, as I craved a reaction, anything, to show that I was hurting him, even a fragment of how much he'd hurt me.
"This whole time I was doing you a favor. You were rude - no, purposefully brutal, from the beginning. You asked me for things without any regard of how it would impact my life. You controlled me, you stripped me of my autonomy, you showed every second how little you respect me. And then, when you were bored of that, you played me." Still, no reaction. "Was that fun for you? Opening up just enough for me to do the same, and then using my emotional vulnerability to forge some kind of twisted connection?"
His silence burned more than any retaliation. I wanted to take his lead, to clam up and allow things unsaid to wither and die. But Holly Reed was stronger than that, she didn't back away. If I truly wanted to move on, I needed to force closure.
"I hate you so much for how you've treated me. I want to loathe you with everything inside of me, but the worst part, the absolute worst thing you did," I took a deep breath, determined to leave everything on the table, "is you made that impossible. Because despite everything, I don't think there is anything you can do or say that would make me truly give up on you."
Well, here it goes.
"I want you to know that I expect nothing of you, anymore. I have no hope, I seek no affirmation or return of sentiment, and that is your fault."
He must have known what I was going to say. I could see grief flitting across his face even before I began, but it wasn't enough to deter me.
"I should leave. I'm clearly not safe now. You, or this situation, or some combination of the two has made me a target. Someone has a vested interest in hurting me in ways that your people can't even find out. I usually have a massive survival instinct, but despite all that, if you told me right now to stay, I would." I took a stabilizing breath.
"So tell me, what is wrong with me? I know you don't have the answer, or maybe you do. Either way, this is going to hurt me more than anything you could say or do. But, congratulations anyway, because I'm pretty sure that despite it all, I lo-"
"I lied to you." He spoke suddenly, cutting off my declaration. The words died in my throat, choking me with their bitterness.
"I lied to you," he repeated, "My family did, too. Keeping you here was a matter of pride, not necessity."
I was too stunned to ask for clarification. The complete 180 in his demeanor gave me whiplash. Instead of vulnerability, his words brought with them a return of the detachment I'd come to expect. Logically, cruelly, he continued.
"It isn't actually necessary for you to stay for six weeks, to persist through the entire process. It is tradition yes, but only the way that things are expected to be done. If you were to leave, I would have had another ceremony in a year. It would have been..." He stalled, and then chose the most hurtful word, "Embarrassing, an inconvenience, to do so. Your needs or plans were of little consequence to me, so it was just easier to get it over with."
At this point he turned towards me, gesturing his hand nonchalantly towards the door.
"I lied to you to win your pity. It's not like a few months would really mean much in your empty life. But now, I release you. Go, leave. At this point, having you here is more humiliating than a failed match. Your feelings are both irrelevant and disconcerting. Go back where you came from, I promise that nothing is stopping you now."
I was watching Stefin the whole time he confessed, hoping for some sign of regret or remorse. Instead, I was met with a cool demeanor. No, not cool. Cold.
I took a few seconds, stalled, frozen. My mind was spinning aimlessly, unable to decide whether to break down or spit out something equally acerbic. I had no comeback, nothing to say that would detract from the raw ache building inside of me. I adjusted the bag on my shoulder, eyes unfocused and unseeing of the man in front of me, and left without another word.
It was only when I was out of the palace, through the gates and on my way to the Terran base, that I reached through the numbness and allowed one single tear to trace its way down my cheek.