Truly, Madly, Deeply

by Marian Tee

  1 Peter 5:8

  Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.

  Maybe.

  So many maybes.

  But because all of these maybes could only occur with hindsight, she had been clueless as a newborn babe on the day she was fated to lose everything. And it had started innocuously enough, with Diana at the university's parking lot, making a call to the professor's office while she waited for Magnolia to pick her up.

  "Hello, darling."

  Her toes curled, like it always did, and she couldn't help smiling like a silly infatuated fool. "Hello, Professor."

  "Are you on your way back?"

  "Actually, that's the thing..." She told him about her planned visit to St. Therese's Shelter for the Sick and Homeless with Magnolia, adding afterwards, "It's in St. Valentine's, so it should be safe."

  Crime-wise perhaps, the professor thought, but that wasn’t the only kind of danger they had to worry about.

  "You know I'm still stuck with my thesis," Diana ventured in face of the professor's prolonged silence. "I know this could be nothing but a wild goose chase, but I just think it's still worth a try, if it could give me the direction I need."

  The professor's fingers tightened involuntarily around his phone. If he told her no, he would be doing exactly what he promised himself he wouldn't do - change her life and lock her in a cage, atoning for a sin she hadn't even committed.

  But if he were to say yes...

  "Alright," he said finally. "But you need to take proper precautions."

  "Of course." Diana's voice was filled with relief. "I have my pepper spray with me at all times, and it's not like I don't know you and Damen still have me under 24/7 surveillance."

  "Diana---"

  "I gotta go." Magnolia was waving for her to hurry from the driver's seat, and Diana quickly made her way to the passenger seat. "Thanks for letting me do this. I know how much of a worrywart you are, and I promise to text you all the time. I love you."

  The professor started to say 'I love you' back, but she had already ended the call, and something inside of him turned cold, like someone walking over his grave. But instead of worrying about his own safety, he could only think of Diana.

  To hell with being paranoid, the professor thought. And so he made the call, and it was why, when Diana and Magnolia arrived at the shelter, it was to find one of Damen's undercover bodyguards waiting for her by the steps.

  "Alvin?"

  "Good evening, Ms. Leventis. Mr. de Graaf asked that you have this." The former Marine handed her a paper bag, and inside of it was a box of surgical gloves and professional-grade face masks. "If you need anything else, please just let us know."

  "Yes." Diana's voice was faint. "Thank you." Her fingers tightened its grip on the paper bag as a strange sense of foreboding squeezed her heart.

  She watched Alvin walk away and a part of her wanted to call the man back, wanted to ask him take her straight home to the professor so that everything would be alright.

  Oh, Saint M---

  But her prayers were interrupted, with Magnolia impatiently calling her name out, and she mentally squared her shoulders. You're just being paranoid, Di. That's all. She followed her friend inside, but her unspoken misgivings persisted, and her quiet anxiety turned into something ominous and suffocating.

  A weary-looking nun came to greet them, and Diana could only nod as Magnolia made the introductions.

  While the shelter had been a pleasant-looking, two-story brick house on the outside, what existed within its walls was another story. Its long and narrow hallway was cramped, with hospital beds parked on each side, all of them bearing patients that appeared either gravely ill or were already at death's door.

  Seeing her bewilderment, Sister Clare explained in a low voice, "We don't have enough doctors to treat them."

  "I don't understand. Doesn't St. Valentines have sufficient funding---"

  "Money has never been a problem," the nun answered curtly. "What we lack are doctors who have the necessary compassion to treat them. As you can see, this is no glamorous workplace, and when you compare it to the posh clinics they have up at the ski resorts..."

  Diana couldn't speak. The professor had known, she realized painfully. He had known what she would find here, how this could endanger his health a thousand ways, and he had still let her go.

  He had let her go and risk his health, just because she had whined about her stupid thesis.

  She took one of the masks out, but Sister Clare started shaking her head as soon as she saw it.

  "I'm sorry, Ms. Leventis. But if you were to wear that, it would...it would complicate things. It would make them think you're disgusted."

  "Then I can't..." She turned to Magnolia helplessly. "The professor..."

  Magnolia paled, realizing what her friend was trying to say. "Oh God, I'm sorry, Di. I didn't think. I forgot..."

  "Is anything wrong?" Sister Clare asked worriedly.

  "I'm sorry." Diana found herself stumbling a step back. "I h-have someone at home..." The man I love. "He's easily...I can't...I'm so sorry." She could barely breathe now, her earlier sense of foreboding having risen back to the fore, and it was now a thousand times worse. "I have to leave. I'm sorry." She turned away, tears blinding her, and promptly bumped into someone.

  "I'm sor---"

  The woman interrupted her with a series of coughs, and the moment Diana felt droplets of saliva strike her face, she wanted to cry.

  Paranoid, a sly voice inside of her suggested. You're just being paranoid.

  But she knew better now than to believe this, knew enough that she should have just listened to her fears and go running home to him.

  I'm sorry, Professor.

  And now it was too late, and the Devil still wanted to play with her.

  A tear slipped down Diana's cheek, and the sight had the other woman flying in a rage. "What the fuck?"

  Diana's head jerked up in confusion.

  "Poverty isn't contagious, bitch!"

  Realizing she had been misunderstood, and that her tears had been mistaken for an expression for disgust, Diana sought to explain, stammering, "It's not what you think---"

  But the other woman simply answered by spitting on her face.

  It was chaos after that, with Sister Clare and Magnolia rushing in to restrain the other woman as she went berserk and tried to claw at Diana's face. But other patients had seen what had happened, and with a snap of the Devil's fingers, she had become the face of all their frustrations.

  They came at her and for her.

  No, no, no.

  She could only curl herself in a ball, eyes closed and lips sewn shut, enduring everything they did - the hair-pulling, the kicks to her sides, the punches to her face - she could and would withstand everything just as long...

  Please, Saint M.

  Just as long...

  Please, Saint M.

  Please.

  She fought to stay conscious until she heard security break in, fought to protect herself until she was lying on a stretcher and inside the safety of an ambulance. A paramedic started asking questions, and even as she tried to answer them as best as she could, her mind was already drifting, and she found herself remembering the oddest and most painful things...

  She was a little girl again, and her nanny was telling her goodbye because Esther thought her too soft on her daughter.

  It pains me to tell you this, my sweet girl, but you have to know, to protect yourself.

  The Devil wears many faces, and his favorite masks are often those we're inclined to trust.

  The scene faded, and Diana was suddenly in Dr. Owens' clinic, and the other woman was looking at her gravely.

  Do you know what the varicella-zoster virus is, Diana?

  It's a strain of virus that causes children to have chicken pox or adults to have shingles.

  But for someone with HIV, in the very worst cases, it can c
ause internal bleeding in the brain.

  It can result in death.

  That's why you have to be just as careful with your health as Matthijs is.

  Something that can only make you cough or sneeze could be enough to kill him.

  When she finally woke up, she was in the hospital, and tears were rushing down her cheeks.

  Because now she understood.

  The Devil wears many faces, her nanny had once told her.

  And it used to be that his favorite mask was that of her mother's face.

  But now, it was something else.

  Now, he sought to harm the professor, and the Devil's mask was of Diana's face.

  Him

  The moment the professor saw Diana's name flash on his screen and his phone started ringing, he knew.

  He already knew.

  He fucking knew.

  "Hello?"

  "I'm sorry."

  And there it goddamn was.

  The defeated sound of her voice.

  Like she had already made up her mind to leave him.

  It made him want to drive his fist into the wall, made him fucking want to roar to the heavens, WHY, GOD, WHY?

  Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?

  But because he loved her, his first thought was for her and of her.

  "Are you safe?" he asked harshly.

  "Matthijs---"

  "Answer the goddamn question!"

  "I am," she choked out.

  His tension eased, just enough for him to breathe. "Where are you?"

  "It d-doesn't matter."

  "Goddammit, Diana---"

  "I almost killed you." A sob broke out from the other end of the line. "I almost k-killed you, and for n-no reason at all." And after that, a jumble of words came out in a rush. All of it should've been incoherent, and she might as well have been speaking in tongues. But somehow he understood. Somehow, he understood every fucking thing that transpired...just as he understood that she thought she was doing the right thing now.

  "I love you, Matthijs. I love you so much, you know that, right?"

  "Shut up."

  "I would never hurt you, I can't ever bear the thought that I could ever hurt---"

  "Shut the fuck up."

  A cry spilled out of her. "I love you---"

  "Then stop saying it like you're saying goodbye," he snarled. "We can fix this. We will fix this. As soon as the hospital clears you, I'll come get you---"

  "I'm s-sorry."

  "Stop saying you're fucking sorry and just say you'll stay---"

  "I can't. I just can't. I love you. You're my life."

  "You goddamn promised---"

  "I'm sorry. I just don't...I just can't...I just want you to keep living."

  The line went dead.

  And just like that...

  It was over.

  The professor threw his phone against the wall and watched it smash to pieces.

  Jeremiah fucking 29:11.

  You fucking promised, remember?

  You made me believe.

  You made me hope.

  So the ball is fucking back on your court, GOD.

  Tell me what to say.

  Show me what to do.

  Anything He asked, Matthijs would do.

  He had no choice.

  No fucking choice.

  Because he had already forgotten how it was to breathe when she was not with him.

  Her

  This Guy's In Love With You by 101 String Orchestra

  In her desperate need to keep him safe and protected, to keep him alive, Diana had gone as far as meeting with her lawyer and having him write Matthijs a gentle warning. Respect my client's request or a restraining order shall be filed against you, for which we will be obliged to cite your illness as basis for harassment.

  To which the professor had simply turned the letter over and scrawled back in reply, Lamentations 3:28-33.

  Let him sit alone in silence

  when it is laid on him;

  let him put his mouth in the dust—

  there may yet be hope;

  let him give his cheek to the one who strikes,

  and let him be filled with insults.

  For the Lord will not

  cast off forever,

  but, though he cause grief, he will have compassion

  according to the abundance of his steadfast love;

  for he does not afflict from his heart

  or grieve the children of men.

  Her lawyer had recited the words out loud, his voice filled with puzzlement. "What's that supposed to mean? I don't get it."

  But I do, Diana thought, and the urge to laugh and cry was upon her once again.

  Oh, Professor.

  Who would've thought this was possible, for a scoundrel like you to quote the Bible just to woo and entice a girl to come back?

  Seeing that her poor lawyer was virtually scratching his head at his cryptic response, she said softly, "He's saying he's going to wait me out."

  "Oh." Her lawyer fell back against his seat. "And, uh, you're okay with that?"

  She could only smile and shrug, and after that she left in a hurry.

  She made it as far as the backseat before despair engulfed her, and her tears flowed endlessly.

  I love you, I love you, I love you.

  It had been five days, four hours, and ten minutes since she had last laid eyes on him. And then it would be just a few hours more until tomorrow's final defense, and she would see him.

  One last time.

  She knew she was doing the right thing. She knew that. But somehow, she just couldn't make herself move on, couldn't even make herself stop taking her medications even though there shouldn't be any need for it.

  Because they were over.

  Weren't they?

  I love you, I love you, I love you.

  And suddenly, she could no longer stop herself, her fingers scrambling for her phone, and then she was typing the words even as the tears continued to splash over the screen.

  I love you so much.

  The professor answered right away, and her shoulders started to shake, laughter mixed in with tears.

  Songs 4:9.

  Oh, Professor.

  It was almost as if he was playing with her.

  Songs was the one book in the bible that didn't speak of laws and teachings but instead expressed the yearnings of the heart. Songs, however, was also one of the few books that she rarely read, and so she found herself clicking on her bible app just to read the verses.

  Thou hast ravished my heart,

  my sister, my spouse;

  Thou hast ravished my heart

  with one of thine eyes,

  with one chain of thy neck.

  She covered her face with her hands, but it was not enough to stop herself from sobbing.

  She gasped for breath, but it was not enough to drown the sound of his words drumming inside her mind.

  She begged for help--

  Please.

  Saint M, please.

  Please.

  But all the angels and saints seemed to be on the professor's side, and comprehension forced its way to her heart, and the words he quoted were so, so clear it was almost as if he was whispering them to her ear.

  I loved you from the moment I saw you.

  I love you still.

  And I always will.

  She closed her eyes, and God, oh God, she could almost swear she felt his knuckles grazing her cheek--

  It's my turn to fight for us, my darling.

  Could've sworn she felt his lips brushing against her hair---

  And you won't stand a chance.

  Together

  The professor couldn't remember the last time he had paid attention to his looks. But that was exactly what he found himself doing, on the morning of Diana's final defense. And while he still ended up with his usual tweed suit, it was new, and so were his tie and shoes. Preparation was the often underestimated key in winning battles, and he was n
ot taking anything for granted.

  When the professor stepped inside the forum hall, all gazes swung to him, Diana included.

  That's right, darling.

  Stare at me.

  Swoon over me.

  Fucking lust after me.

  She had once told him, albeit shyly, that he was the only man to have turned her on, and the professor was all for doing anything and everything to remind her of this.

  A lot of sighing and gushing seemed to happen as the professor made his way down the steps, but he only eyes had for one girl.

  His girl.

  She seemed unable to stop herself from staring, and he wondered idly if she was aware of how her doe eyes had once again started eating him.

  If you want to eat me so damn bad, then don't leave me.

  He took his seat, and at his nod, the fourth-year student he had assigned to moderate went up to the podium. Introductions were made, and soon the first student to defend his or her thesis was called.

  "May I ask Ms. Diana Leventis to present herself before the panel?"

  Diana's jaw dropped. The last time she heard, the order of defense was supposed to be random. Her gaze swung accusingly to the professor's, but his leonine gaze only met hers in bland challenge. Yes, it's deliberate. Are you going to do anything about it?

  Her teeth gnashed even as she forced herself to stand up. Since the professor wasn't the petty type, she knew he was doing this for a reason, and that was what? Did he want her rattled? Did he want her so nervous that she'd blurt out the first thing on her mind?

  Oh, Saint M, save me.

  Diana's knees bumped each other under her skirt as she came up the dais and face the panel.

  Her face whitened.

  The panel, which was made up of every single individual that had once attended her mock defense.

  Dear God.

  Had she somehow gotten all of this wrong?

  Her gaze swung back to him, but his handsome face was a blank, hard mask, and her heart shriveled at the sight of it. She felt sick and cold with fear, but she couldn't make herself back out. This was her purpose, dammit, and not even the professor would ruin this for her.

  She managed a smile for the crowd. "Good morning everyone." She could barely hear herself over the hammering of her heart. "My name is Diana Leventis. As with all the students here, we've been tasked by Professor de G-Graaf---" She could feel her cheeks heating up at the way her tongue suddenly stumbled over his name, and her color deepened when she heard Pepper snicker.