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"Are you alright?" I heard Daisy whisper. Her soft inquiry broke the silence. I focused on her. It was a difficult task, but I managed it somehow. She seemed to think that I had missed her question. So, she repeated herself.

"I heard you the first time you asked," I told her. She didn\'t seem stunned by my reply. "I sent him away," I informed her in a small voice. I don\'t know why I did it; I knew that she had seen him leave the apartment, there was no hiding spot in the apartment if one thought about it.

She nodded. Her eyes were guarded; her hesitant steps towards my direction told me the same. She was probably clever to be approaching me with caution. I felt like a volatile substance, ready to explode at any time. I recognized that I had been feeling that way for the longest time.

"He—for some unknown fucked up reason, thought that he was going to be forgiven for his twisted justification." I snorted, pulling my eyes away from her searching eyes.

"I\'m sorry," was all she offered me. I felt the bed dip beside me, and then the warmth of her hand on my shoulder.

"His reasons make sense to him," she began speaking again, after some thought. "Rational thought is something that reflects the mechanics of our mind. It is like our perception of a certain situation—it differs from one person to the other." I shook my head in annoyance.

No, she would not be taking his side again.

She always seemed to take his side. Why would she do that?

"There is no one right way to react to a situation," she tried to make me understand. I was having none of it.

"I feel like you keep defending him because he put you up to it." I slowly turned my head back towards her, letting her see the suspicion in my eyes. It was enough to startle her. I only saw the shock in her eyes.

"I saw how he kept looking at you when he said something tricky..."

Like a poisonous vine, suspicion had dug its roots too deep. It was present in every facet of my mind.

I questioned Daisy\'s motive in helping me, her continued support and speeches in favor of Anthony.

"I want to say that I am not surprised, but I am."

"What is there to be surprised about?" I asked her indignantly.

"I thought that you knew that I admired your flare, your talents and knew how poorly you were treated. I had no other objective than to be of help to you. I thought you considered me to be your friend, just as I did you." For all I knew, then, the demanding dialogue was an attempt to make me feel guilty for questioning her. But I also knew that Daisy was not guilty.

"I understand where you are coming from. You have been betrayed at every turn, but I need you to trust me-"

"I don\'t know who to trust any longer. I feel as if I am suffocating like I am a prisoner here!" my voice raised beyond control.

"Then maybe you should leave."

"And do what? This is the only life I know!"

"You are twenty-five! Your life is just beginning!" she exclaimed. "I know you feel like you have been through enough, but you can\'t live if you stay where you are slowly dying. Nothing is holding you back." Her words made sense to me, I didn\'t tell her, though. I tested the plan in my head. It sounded enticing but too dangerous.

"What of Jacob?" I asked, feeling triumphant that I found a loophole.

"What of him?" she asked nonchalantly. I narrowed my eyes at her. She sighed, going into an explanation on why my independence was so much more important than one man. "You can\'t pretend that you love him with everything in you," she added. "The two of you were friends. He loves what you represent and you love what he means. He likes you because you wield raw power, and you... you found safety in him. Also, you wanted to spite Anthony Murray."

It was true. Had I not come to the same conclusion?

Yes, of course, I had.

"Oh," I whispered. I slid back down onto the bed, feeling all the energy draining out of my body.

What would I do with myself? I wondered as I felt the cool sheets being pulled over me.

Find my own way. Make mistakes. Survive. Live.

It did make sense.

Maybe, Daisy is right?

"I don\'t care what decision you take," she brushed a strand of hair away from my face. "I just want you to be healthy and happy."

"And Anthony?" she seemed stunned by the sudden change in topic. She recovered quickly enough, and seemed to lose herself in her thoughts.

"Sometimes, we tend to forget the good things that we had. We forget that there were moments in our life when we sat with the people we think we loath now, and ate with them and felt as if there was no greater happiness in the world. We never remember the good things, only the bad ones."

"You want me to remember the times when I thought I loved him?" I replied, critically.

"Yes," she said. "Mia... hating someone is so easy. Loving them is difficult, and trying not to love them even more so. I don\'t want you to hurt yourself by trying to control your love for him. You love him, embrace it. The more you keep inside you, the worse it will get."

"Does this mean that you want me to sort it out with him?" She shook her head.

"I just want you to talk to him when you feel that you are ready. It will make you feel better, and who knows? Maybe you won\'t love him then."

A huge rush of air left my lungs instantly. I embraced the thought she put in front of me, but the last declaration made me cringe.

Doubtful, I thought immediately.