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Thank God I have a reason to hate her. It makes pretending I do so much easier. Everyone believes it, and why wouldn't they?
I did love my brother. I did mourn for him. I do believe she wanted him dead.
No one knows, though, that I had warned him about pushing her, that I told him a woman protecting her child is a dangerous,
feral creature who cannot be disregarded. But Luis hadn't listened. He enjoyed running into her, taunting her. He even
laughed when he called to tell me about their encounter in the park.
There's no one else alive who knows I told him that leaving her there was wrong. There's no one that knows I received
daily faxes on Kristina Davis' condition... that I said silent prayers that she would live.
What kind of man would I have been if I hadn't wanted that little girl to live? I'd have been my brother, I suppose...
and though I did love him, I admit I was ashamed of him.
I never imagined she would intrigue me as much as she does. From that first time I saw her in the Quartermaine's lobby,
she's been in my head. Her eyes were so beautiful, even tinged with fear as they were. And the way she held her little girl
close to her... I could see clearly what had led her to seek out Luis... what had cost my brother his life.
Mothers in general, I'd spoken to him about... but this woman was a different kind of mother. My research told me that.
She'd lost too much, suffered too many horrors. Her child had become her life... and she would do anything to protect that
life.
When it became clear to me how much she'd invaded my thoughts, I tried to find distraction elsewhere. I do care for Carly,
though I admit, I know deep down I don't love her. There are things about her I admire, but in the end, she will bore me,
and I will want out. It's as it has been with every woman since Sophie.
It's how I know it would never be with Alexis Davis.
She is the most dangerous woman I have ever met. I see now why Corinthos fell for her, why he took her to his bed. What
sane man wouldn't? The challenge she presents to the mind and the heart, the allure to the body... there's nothing to not
want. Nothing to stop you from aching for a moment with her... just one, singular, unforgettable moment.
But it would never be enough. It wasn't even enough for Corinthos. I saw that in court today. The way he looked at
her... he gave away his secret. He pretends, too, that he hates her, that he's angry with her. But he wants her... he wants
her more than he's ever wanted anything in his life, and he knows he's given up the right to have her. So he pretends to
hate her to cover his need.
Just as I do. Because I know without doubt that I am the one man on earth Alexis would never let herself surrender to.
I understand why, and I don't blame her. And so I take all my questions, all my hopes, all the desire she stirs in me with
her iron-jawed refusal to wince at my threats... I take my memories of the glimpses I've caught of her perfectly crafted legs
and the way her eyes twinkle when she makes a solid point in the courtroom... I take away the mystery of what her skin would
feel like and how soft her hair must be... I take it all and I bury it in my heart and then I use the power of it to fuel
my pretend hate.
And then when I'm alone in my bed or standing under the heated, pulsing water of my shower... I use it all to fuel my
very real imaginings of what it would be like to be loved by a woman like her.
And then, sadly, I think of the reasons she has to hate me.
She does not pretend, and I cannot blame her. But it will never keep me from wishing that it were different. Yet knowing
it will not be, I prepare my mask of hatred again.
She is expecting it... and I do not want to disappoint her.
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