The two of us stand in a furniture-less room. A pile of blankets were dumped in the corner before they shut and locked the door.

"We need to talk," Grey says.

"Please, Grey, I'm tired." My head hurts, my eyes are stinging and my thoughts are going in futile circles as I worry about how I'm going to get me and Sienna out of this place. Will Terrell try to lock me up permanently? I shudder at the thought.

Grey's exhales roughly but he doesn't say anything further as he grabs the blankets and lays them on the floor.

"Is it ok if I turn the lights off? I prefer the dark since..." I falter. I don't want to bring up that time. I'm not ready for a conversation on what happened. Not now, probably not ever.

"I'm fine with the lights off," Grey says.

Flicking the switch, the room is dark apart from a slither of moonlight which seeps in through the metal bars across the window and illuminates Grey's outline as he lays down.

I lay on the blankets next to him and listen to Grey's steady breathing. Staring at the ceiling, I'm humming with nervous energy.

Grey turns on his side so he's facing me. "What have you been doing since I left?"

"You make it sound like you left voluntarily," I say flatly, avoiding the question.

I don't want to tell him I was sedated because I was so angry I fought everyone, I got so depressed I didn't care about living, I watched an entire family's world get blown to pieces both literally and figuratively, I was betrayed by someone I considered a friend and I lost you permanently.

"Cady-"

"Grey, don't do this," I whisper.

"Do what?" Grey says surprised.

"Constantly flit between indifference and pretending you care." I inhale slowly and continue to stare at the ceiling. Static dances in front of my vision as the darkness plays tricks on me.

I wish Terrell hadn't agreed to Grey's request to stay with me. Then I could have avoided this conversation, and I wouldn't be forced into close proximity with someone who has occupied and taken up all my thoughts over the last few weeks, only to find out they don't reciprocate the feelings. A brutal but necessary lesson in life which is still too fresh for me to value.

"I told you, I do care," Grey says.

"I know you saw what happened through the glass."

Grey shuffles. "I did see what happened. I watched them hang you up and hose you down. I watched you for days hanging there while I was unable to do anything."

"And I watched them hurt you, Grey, and it's messed us up. I've been hiding in a cupboard for days and started carrying a gun while you carry a knife around. The State are still influencing our actions which means they're winning." I inhale deeply. "I've accepted you don't want me-"

"I never said I don't want you," Grey interrupts.

"The first time after we were released you told me to leave, Grey. I walked into your room and you told me to leave." I sit up.

The Office is suddenly too small and too cramped. I want to be outside, out of this labour camp and away from this conversation, but I know this needs to happen. This needs to end so both of us can move on.

"That doesn't mean I don't want you." Grey sits up. In the moonlight, I see the shadows of worry which cloud his face.

"It's the same thing. Telling me to leave indicates you don't want anything to do with me," I snap and jump up to standing.

"I did it to protect you," Grey stands and steps towards me.

"I don't need protecting, Grey." I shove him hard.

The anger wells up inside. It returns in full force from weeks of build-up and weeks of sedation which only contained the rage but didn't extinguish it.

I growl. "I don't want protecting. We were meant to be equal partners; it's not equal if I lo- care about you but you're only with me because you feel sorry for me or obligated. I know you blame me for what happened and you associate me with the pain. I know I lost our child and I gave up. You have every right to hate me but stop pretending you care, stop giving me hope that there will be an us," I shout, pushing him again.

Grey grabs my wrists and says gruffly, "I do not hate you and I do not blame you for anything. You did not lose our child. You did not inflict the pain."

"Why have you been pushing me away?"

"Because I'm not good enough for you. I can't protect you."

"I told you I don't want protecting." Exhausted, I close my eyes and sigh heavily while stepping back.

Grey keeps ahold of my wrists and pulls me closer. Our bodies are touching, his mouth is so close to mine I can almost taste him. My body tingles from the proximity, even after rejection it yearns for him, his hands, his lips. I hate myself for not being able to control my desire.

"When you said earlier you were to blame, that's not true. None of what happened is your fault," Grey says urgently.

"You don't need to spare my feelings. Ultimately, if you had never met me, you would be safe back at the fight club."

"Safe seems like a very optimistic word for what I was there," Grey says softly. "But I'm glad to see your over-inflated ego hasn't disappeared, you still think everything comes back to you. I don't blame you for anything, Cady. I never have. Everything I've done has been to try and keep you safe."

Grey swallows hard and his hands tighten around my wrists. "When they were hurting you I couldn't stand it. I told them everything but they just continued. I couldn't help. You were being hurt because of me."

"Grey-"

"They never turned my window into a mirror. I could always see you. I always knew when you're side of the window had changed because as soon as you couldn't see me, you looked relieved-"

"I was relieved they weren't hurting you anymore," I whisper.

"I always watched you. I watched as you were hung. I saw the blood, and all I could think is how you were going through even more pain because of me. You had to deal with that all by yourself and I couldn't be there for you. I failed you."

"No, you didn't. Neither of us wanted what happened. We didn't ask Jeremiah to hurt us," I choke out.

"After we were released, I told everyone to keep you away. I thought you would be better without me but in the end, no matter how much I think you would be better without me, I can't stay away." His lips are so close to my lips and my breathing is ragged.

"That makes you sound like an asshole," I murmur.

Grey chuckles and his breath tickles my face. "I guess you're initial impression of me was correct."

"No. I thought you were an arrogant asshole whereas you're just an asshole."

"I thought you were confident, gorgeous and intelligent."

"You thought I was an informer."

"I'm not sure I ever really believed that.," Grey's voice lowers. "Cady, can I kiss you?"

"Yes," I whisper hoarsely.

Grey brushes his lips against mine then leans back to look at me. "Do you trust me, Cady?"

"I did."

"And now?"

"I don't know," I say and I'm taken aback by my unexpected but honest answer.

"I promise I'm going to change that." Grey lets go of me and air rushes around my overheated body. "Let's get some sleep. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."

For the first time in my life, the reason I'm unable to sleep has nothing to do with nightmares or terrors and everything to do with hope. A sensation I never truly understood the point of until recently.