"Tonight, you must...thoroughly break her heart," Mr. Cushing concluded. 

No, no, no.

I barely ate my meal, pondering how I am to do this. I tried to avoid meeting Edith's eyes, but to completely ignore her would spark suspicion. The best I could manage was a faint smile. Just when I thought we were to be dismissed, the light clinking of a glass caught my attention. I silently cursed Mr. Cushing for forcing me to do this in front of everyone.

I stole a couple of glances at Edith during my speech and the emotion on her face mirrored the one I'm hiding. Maybe this is for the better. She won't be next. However, the thought of never talking to her, of her never smiling at me, of never feeling hopeful again made me almost wish I never met her just so I could be spared this pain.

When Edith rose and dismissed herself, I wanted to comfort her. But it is done. I've held my end of the deal. I felt eyes on me, and I turned to see Mr. Cushing. His stare worsened my dread. This was not thorough enough.

I excused myself and followed Edith. I didn't know what to say to her. When I did catch up with her, I thought maybe the practical approach would soften the blow, telling her I can't stay because of the lack of funding. She stormed past me towards the staircase. Then, I remembered that I still had her newest chapters. When I mentioned her novel, she stopped. After I told her I'd have the chapters delivered in the morning, she curtly ended that topic and continued her way up the stairs. 

Knowing how much she yearned for feedback and praise, I asked if she wanted to know my thoughts. Just as I expected, she stopped and gave me her full attention. 

I sighed. So this is what I would have to use to hurt her.

"It's absurdly sentimental."

Edith, please don't believe this.

"The aches that you describe with such earnestness. The pain, the loss. You clearly haven't lived at all. In fact, you only seem to know what other writers tell you."

You're innocent. You don't know better. 

Edith tried to stop me, "That's enough!" But it's not enough. She can't know my secret. It would ruin what we have. What we had.

"You insist on describing the torments of love when you clearly know nothing about them." 

You will know after tonight and I'm sorry for it, Edith.

She tried to move around me, but I stepped into her path.

"I'm not done yet!" I shouted. I needed to draw Mr. Cushing out, give him proof that I'm doing exactly what he wanted.

"What do you dream of? A kind man? A pure soul to be redeemed?"

I'm not who you need me to be. I'm not kind. I'm not pure.

"A wounded bird you can nourish? Perfection. Perfection has no place in love, Edith."

You can't fix me. I can't give you what you want. It doesn't exist.

"I advise you to return to your ghosts and fancies. The sooner, the better."

Forget about me, Edith. The sooner, the better. Live your life.

"You know precious little of the human heart, or love, or the pain that comes with it."

I don't want you to know how ugly the human heart can be or the pain I've suffered.

"You're nothing but a spoiled child!"

You're everything I've hoped for.

When Edith struck me, the tear I was holding back escaped. Now, I have sealed her fate. She'll hate me forever but at least she's safe from me now.