"I get it, okay? I messed up. I was a horrible friend, everyone knows it. I'm sure if the others showed up tomorrow they'd back you. But damn you, don't you act for a minute like every single thing I've done here hasn't been for someone else!" In so many ways, it was. The people of Lawrence, the displaced, Eponine... When was the last time he'd truly focused on him? And now he also had Gavroche and Grantaire to take care of and Jesus, sometimes it was too much. But he had to. He had so many things to atone for.
He didn't even flinch when Grantaire pushed back. Rather, he expected it. It would have been more odd if he hadn't. "I need you to care," he snapped back. "I need you to understand what your life means--"
And then the next words hit him, and as their full weight sunk in, he felt the last of the fight drain from him. Of course. Here, Enjolras was happy. Oh, sometimes he had horrible things to deal with. But at the end of the day he still had his place in Eponine's arms. He'd spent so long focusing on his wedding that he didn't even consider that there was one wedding that would never be. That for all of his pushing, he still had the love of his life while Grantaire would never see his again.
He stepped forward, then, bypassing the offending chair and grabbing for Grantaire's arm. "Wait," he said softly. Much more softly than anything he'd said in the last several hours. He reached out then and, in direct defiance of his marble statue title, wrapped his friend in his arms tightly. "I'm sorry," he all but whispered. "I'm so, so sorry, my friend." The emphasis sat on the word friend. Because that was really what Grantaire needed just then. Not the parent that Enjolras was being, or the judge and jury. Just a good friend. One who truly loved him. Maybe if he'd had that so long ago, it wouldn't have come to this.