“Phoebe,” he started cautiously, “I’m not here to put more load on you regarding this.” I know you didn’t want any of this and I’m not going to say that I’m so great for coming here now. But I’ve been attempting to take responsibility for my actions. And part of that means realizing how much I caused you pain.”Phoebe’s lips formed, her arms drawn tightly around her in the manner of a shield. “It does not heal the wound, Christian.” Oh do you think that knowing you regret it will give me back the time I lost? The trust I lost? The parts of me that had to be reconstructed?”“No,” replied Christian, who now looked ashamed. “I don’t. And I’m not asking you to forget what I did or even forgive me. I just had to tell you that… I can see it now. I can now understand how self-centered I was and how unable to notice your suffering.She tilted her head to the side, her mouth tightening as she looked out the window and saw the rain running down the glass. “Blind, huh?” she said with much bitter

It’s convenient. You were waiting until you felt I was ready and powerful enough to take the news. Until you thought I didn’t need you anymore.”“That is not true,” Christian said quickly, getting up, his voice a high pitched note. “I have been taking this guilt with me every day since I left.” I did not return because of convenience. I returned because I could not continue living such a life knowing that I destroyed something that was wonderful.Phoebe whirled on her toes, glaring. “And what about me? Have you ever thought what it feels like to wake up every day with the marks you have made on others? To have to break yourself down and begin to build yourself up again from scratch just to have the one who was responsible for tearing you down appear with an apology?”“I do now,” he said quietly. “Because I do, I see it in your eyes. I hear it in your voice. And I hate myself for being the reason it’s there.”She was breathing raggedly, her hands were balled up at her sides. “You don’t

Christian did not answer this for a while. He looked down, his hands were tightly bunched into fists at his sides. “I know it caused pain,” he said, his voice rising in a hoarse whisper. “I know I can’t undo that. But I can’t just let things be this way. Not anymore. If that means living with your hatred then let it be so.Phoebe only chuckled bitterly and began to pace in front of the fire. ‘Christian, you keep saying all the right things.’ Saying sorry, admitting my mistake, promising to take my anger on myself. But you don’t seem to understand. It’s not about you. Not anymore.”He stared at her with a frown on his face. “Then what is it about?”“It’s about me,” she said angrily, turning to him. ‘That’s about the years I’ve spent struggling to climb out of the pit you dug for me to fall into.’ It is about finding out how to be independent, how to live without the feeling that my chest is going to collapse. It’s about healing, or at least, about trying to put myself back together aft