A Promise

Chapter Eleven

        It was extremely difficult to relive the terrors of my past experience with Grantaire. The memory made me sick with guilt and self-hatred, but Enjolras deserved the truth, so the story came pouring out. "Until very recently, my family owned a small inn. We used to steal from our customers all the time, especially the ones who got drunk at the bar. The Patron Minette, including me, would pickpocket the customers and steal their valuables in order to sell them on the black market. It became a nightly routine to have a little... competition of sorts. Each night, after we had stolen as much as we possibly could, we compared the amount we stole, and whoever had stolen the most received the largest percentage of that night's earnings. One night, about a year ago, I was especially motivated to win the competition because I wanted to buy myself a new dress- my old one had been torn because I'd gotten into a fight with 'Parnasse. As I scanned the crowd of customers, trying to pick an easy target, I saw a young man walk through the door. He appeared fairly rich. He wore fine but wrinkled clothing, and he had obviously already had a couple drinks too many. He staggered to the bar, where my mother was working, and ordered a beer. My mother informed him that to buy alcohol from the inn, he had to rent a room. The young man, who by now you have probably guessed was Grantaire, promised to pay double if he could have the drinks without having to pay for a room. My mother agreed and gave Grantaire his beer. I couldn't have been more excited. This man had just promised to give double the payment for a beer! Obviously, I reasoned, he must have a lot of money on him. This was my chance to steal that money and win that night's competition, or so I thought. I walked over to Grantaire and began flirting with him. I waited until he had gone through two more beers, then I slipped my hand in his pocket. Nothing. Not a single coin. I tried the other pocket. Still nothing. I tried the pockets of his coat, but I still couldn't find even a handful of tin. It was then that I realized this man was completely broke. He didn't even have money to pay for the beers he'd bought that night. I felt anger boil up inside me. Immediately, I told my father that this man had ordered drinks without having the money to pay for them. I can still remember my father's response: 'He'll have to pay one way or another.'" I paused, looking tentatively at Enjolras. His face was unreadable. Taking a shaky breath, I continued my story.

        "My father instructed the Patron Minette to take Grantaire outside and 'make him pay.' Brujon and Babet grabbed him by the arms and hauled him outside, the rest of the gang, including my sister and me, following close behind. They threw Grantaire into the dust. He was so drunk that he could hardly defend himself. They let me throw the first few punches since I was the one who had ratted him out. The Patron Minette swarmed him like a pack of rabid dogs, kicking and punching him. Most of the men were also intoxicated, and their lust for blood overpowered their reason. They began to torture him in unspeakable ways. They were like animals, tearing at his skin, pulling out his hair, beating him into a bloody pulp. I had never seen them so violent. They got caught up in the moment and got carried away. I realized that they might actually kill them, but I was afraid to go against the crowd, so I just stood there, laughing. Can you believe it? I actually laughed as they pulled their knives out and carved the words 'Patron Minette' into his skin. And when they were finally done, we all walked away, laughing." I stopped talking and turned away from Enjolras, trying not to let him see the tears in my eyes. "I didn't mean for things to go as far as they did," I said weakly. "I wish I could take back what happened. That night still haunts me."

        Enjolras was completely silent. I wondered if he still thought there was good in me, even after what I had just told him. Why was I so afraid of what he thought about me? Why did I care so much about his opinion? I turned to look at him, expecting to see hatred on his marble face, but instead, his eyes were kind and forgiving.

        "Ep, you obviously caused my friend Grantaire a lot of pain and suffering, and that's definitely not all right," he began, "but I can tell you're truly sorry for what you did. You are not the same person you were a year ago, and I'm sure if you're persistent enough, Grantaire will see that you've changed and he will forgive you. He may be a drunkard, but he is a good person. In time, he'll forgive you, as I forgive you."

        "How could anyone forgive me for what I've done?" I said with despair. "I don't deserve anyone's forgiveness."

        "No one ever truly deserves to be forgiven, but we forgive anyways," Enjolras said. "Otherwise, the world would be full of hatred and hurt."

        Hot tears spilled from my eyes. "I'll never be able to escape my past," I cried, putting my face into my hands. My body shook with sobs. I felt uncomfortable breaking down like this in front of Enjolras, but I couldn't control myself. My guilt was overwhelming. Suddenly, I felt a pair of strong arms pull me into a hug. I froze. Enjolras was actually holding me in his arms, rubbing his hands on my back and making comforting hushing noises. My heart raced and my head spun. This felt so... so... right. I wanted to hold on to him, to cling to his body for dear life and never, ever let go. This felt so much like... love. No. I couldn't be in love. I had decided a long time ago that I didn't believe in love, that love was the cause of all pain and suffering. When I had lost my heart to Marius so long ago, I had ended up with a broken heart. I refused to go through that pain again. Although every instinct in me was screaming to hold on to Enjolras, I forced myself to push him away.

        "Thank you," I said politely, "but I'll be okay." I wiped my eyes and turned away from him. He was silent for a few long moments. Finally, he nodded his head. "Okay. I'm going out to get some dinner. Care to join me?"

        "No, thank you," I said quickly. "I'm not hungry."

        "All right. I'll be back as soon as I can."

        The minute he left the house, I threw myself onto the couch and let myself cry. I had finally found my place among the Les Amis, I had finally begun to believe that I could leave my past behind and become good, and then Grantaire had come along. He had been right when he told me I couldn't just run away from my past. I would never belong here with Enjolras and Les Amis. I would never be able to leave my past behind. I was doomed to a life of thievery. I had been foolish to believe I could escape that life. I had to leave, especially now that I was beginning to have feelings for Enjolras. I couldn't risk losing my heart to him and being hurt once again. It was safer to just go home and resume my normal life. I was Eponine Thenardier, after all. A wanted criminal. That's all I was, and that's all I would ever be. I grabbed a piece of paper from Enjolras' desk and scribbled a note explaining where I had gone and apologizing for leaving Les Amis. I left the note on the desk, then took off the chain around my neck from which dangled Enjolras' ring. I laid the ring on top of the note and left the house.

        This was it. The end of my foolish attempt to turn my life around. I tried to tell myself it was better this way, but part of me wasn't convinced. I knew that I would never forget Enjolras. He would always be my biggest 'what if' in life.