"Do not lie to me!" It wasn't a shout, but it was as forceful as he could manage given the circumstances. He spun to face her, and if there was any anger on his face, it was well hidden by the tears in his eyes. "You cannot love me. You do not do that to a person you love. You do not betray them." He tried to continue, to press his point, to make her understand just how much she had hurt him, but his knees gave out underneath him and he almost fell to the floor, catching himself at the last moment.
"I can't stay here," he said. He tried to stand, but it would take a moment before he would have the strength to do so. "I cannot be in this place, knowing what you--knowing what happened here." And even then, suspecting that he would never set foot in this place again if he could avoid it, he almost hoped Morrigan would follow him. Even though looking at her tore at him like no pain he'd ever felt, even though he felt angry and betrayed and hateful and still agonizingly in love, even though every second in her presence almost made him wish he had died at Flemeth's hand, he still hoped, in the hopeful, idealistic, romantic core of his soul, that there was some magic combination of words that could fix all this and make it right and make it so it had never happened, that he would just wake up in his flat to Morrigan's quiet snores beside him, the fading memory of a terrible nightmare having no more effect on him but to pull her closer. "I cannot be here," he repeated.