Love is like a tree; it sprouts forth of itself, sends its roots out deeply through our whole being, and often continues to flourish greenly over a heart in ruins. And the inexplicable point about it is that the more blind is this passion, the more tenacious it is. It is never more solid than when it has no reason in it.
I don't believe this. I believe this results from people being trapped in the sunk cost fallacy where they can't bear to believe they have been such a fool.
There is no reason for La Esmeralda to love Phoebus. Yes, she had a childish fantasy about a knight and shining armor type of officer to love her. Phoebus, however, was a cad who just wanted in her pants and refused to consider marrying her.
Given that Phoebus seems to have abandoned her, he hasn't come to see her and didn't argue for her at the trial, she should be able to recognize that her fantasy of Phoebus and the reality of the man are at odds with each other.
That she can't either means she cannot bear to admit her follow or, more likely, the Author needs her to be stuck on Phoebus for his expectation of the plot to work.
