Inextricable: A Divergent FanFiction (Book Three) ©

Chapter 23

"I don't understand."

At my words, Lyla squeezed her eyes shut and pulled away, running a hand through her hair with seeming frustration. Letting out a rushed breath she turned to me, looking like she was steeling herself for the worst.

"I'm in love with someone," she confessed.

I blinked, so confused with the turn our conversation had taken that I was left literally speechless. A swell of sharp emotions began to writhe within me, and with them the earlier panic I'd felt became something suddenly manageable, something I didn't want to run away from.

The gears in my head began to turn quickly. Of course her heart was taken. Deep down, hadn't I already suspected it? And even if it hadn't been so, the idea of a girl like her choosing someone like me had always secretly seemed unlikely.

I was damaged, both with physical scars and mental ones that'd come from a life filled with violence and pain. I had nothing in the world to offer her, and yet I'd let myself hope. The logical thing would've been to let her to.

But then, when had I ever been particularly logical?

I'm not giving up.

The thought had been filled with vehemence, and I knew –without a trace of doubt– that there wasn't any other alternative I'd be able to accept. I wanted her; it was as simple as that.

With a hard swallow, I pulled in a long breath before I was finally able to speak.

"Love is a serious word to use," I cautioned, attempting to reason with her. "Not one to be used lightly. Perhaps what you really meant was–"

"I know what I meant," she interrupted firmly, and as I recognized the sincerity in her voice –utterly candor with its passion– I felt a wave of heavy misery wash over me. It was so weighty that I felt as if my legs might actually buckle.

"Okay," I said, hearing the stiffness in my own voice. "So, where is he? This man of yours, I think I'd like to meet him."

To challenge him; I mentally added. What did he have that I didn't?

"He's lost to me." As her eyes misted over, a stab of jealousy spiked through me. So strong were her emotions, that I felt as if I were practically experiencing the depths of her loss myself.

"What happened?" When she didn't answer, I cautiously asked in a quieter tone, "Is he, umm–" I'd just stopped myself from saying dead, realizing at the last minute that it might've been insensitive.

"No," she said, shaking her head once. "He's alive, just... just gone."

"Gone," I repeated, indignant on her behalf. The earlier jealousy I'd felt was quickly being replaced with anger. "He left you?"

"Not voluntarily," Lyla immediately defended. "You could say he was taken from me."

"So, what, he's being held against his will or something?" I frowned, only growing more confused.

"No, not at all. He's physically okay, it's just all very complicated right now."

"Doesn't sound like it. Tell me, why isn't he here? Why is he letting you to pine over him?"

"You really don't understand."

"I think I do," I retorted, irritated to see her being so protective over someone who was clearly making her miserable. "I understand that he doesn't deserve you." When she only crossed her arms defiantly, I gruffly demanded, "What makes him so special?"