THE WARD

A ball of rage. That's the only thing I've allowed myself to be. Anything more would have spelt my impending demise. I held onto that last bit of humanity with teeth and claws.

He betrayed me. That thought bounced around my head like a ball. The hurt I've felt was on par with the love I held for him. Immense. Immeasurable. Soul scorching.

No. Don't. Think. About. Him.

Don't. Think. About. It.

Strangely it had become my new mantra as I powered through days on autopilot.

At least, I had Laira in my corner. Well, sort of.

" So, you proposed a trojan horse kind of scheme, and he actually implemented the plan? " Laira asks, a hint of confusion and derision settling over her features.

" Yes," I reply blandly, numbly with very little desire to relive the day.

She hums in thought and remains silent for a moment. With a deep breath, she opens her mouth to say something, but then changes her mind and clamps her mouth shut. It goes like this for a few time, before she finally squeezes out, something along the lines of," So, why are you mad at him?" This time she is properly confused and I, am exasperated. The problem is that I know she is viewing this as a third party, an annoyingly impartial one.

" He should have told me that he knew of Micah's whereabouts. That he had more knowledge than he led me to believe. All and all he lied to me," I seethe through gritted teeth. We've been over this already. We just circle back to the same final question.

" Was it with malice?" She asks again, and can't help myself anymore and throw the book I've been clutching in my hand across the room. It flies past her head, hits the wall and falls flat on the floor, next to a few others that have shared the same fate.

" I don't fucking know, Laira. That is the problem. He lied to me, and kept things from me, vital things. How am I supposed to trust this man," Whom I'm so hopelessly, and desperately in love with, but I can't fucking trust.

She hums pensively, " Right," She slaps her thighs with the palms of her hands and stands up, " Here is the thing," She begins cautiously, " He didn't hurt you. He protected you, even when you didn't need any protection. From what I gather Micah is poof...gone...food for the worms, and so are his beloved acolytes. You're basically at the top of the food chain, so I don't understand why are you having this conversation with me when you could have it with Mason," She huffs, irritated. Because if I see him, I'll crumble like a house of cards, my poorly constructed resolve will go up in smoke the moment I see him. And she is sort of right. Only sort of. And I kind of hate her right now.

" I don't like you very much right now," I swivel in my chair and return to finish my business plan.

In the past few days, I've considered various options, among which was packing the few things I own and moving to another district. Or in layman's terms, run.

The sound of her soft footfall behind me gives me pause, and I turn around to see Laira looking down at me, with a scowl on her pretty face.

" Be reasonable, Lily," She says calmly, " You can be mad all you want but at the end of the day, he held his end of the bargain and offered something you wouldn't have achieved on your own. Freedom. Sure, the means are a bit sketchy but the result is what matters at this point. You're free, no longer hunted, and if he manages to end his engagement with Ava, he will also be free. He is trying to offer you what not many men would even bother to...," She leans forward so we are nose to nose," Everything, " She says slowly, and a touch dramatically. And I can't believe she is on his side. Crazy, right?

Where is the sisterhood, I've heard about, where women band together against wretched men to claim supremacy?

It looks like it skipped a few generations.

Defeated, I sag against my chair and decide that this conversation has gone on for long enough. We've been at it for hours, and I suddenly feel drained, physically and mentally.

" Where were we going for your birthday ?" I decide to change the subject, and Laira sighs in turn, also defeated. She is a spring baby, and I need to get drunk. I've got plenty of reasons.

" We are going for lunch, and then we are going to visit a dear old friend of mine, and then we are going out drinking," That last part perks me up a bit. I'll have to crawl through an entire day of tedious activities, but I'll manage as long as there are copious amounts of alcohol at the end of it.

" Sounds good," I mumble with a wane smile.

" Sure does. Be ready at ten. And I mean to be dressed to go out in public. I don't want to see you in pyjama bottoms covered in...," She waves towards my stained trousers with a grimace," I don't think I want to know what those stains are. Ignorance is bliss," She chuckles," And have a shower for the love of all that is sacred, you stink," She turns on her heels and pokes the window open, to let some fresh air in. Yep, I'm a mess. A slob. I've turned into a troll, living inside a loft.

I take a deep breath, the musty, stale air fills my lungs and I decide that after two weeks of feeling sorry for myself, I need to get my shit together. And I mean that metaphorically and literally. The small loft is littered with clothes, books, dirty plates-hence the musty smell- cups, unwashed pans, and pots. Oh, yeah, I've hit rock bottom.

" Time to get out of this funk," She gives me half a shrug," and who knows, maybe something good will come out of it. See you later, troll," She gives me a cheery wave over her shoulder and slips through the hatch.