Lawrence's POV

I sat in Bena's apartment and thought back to everything that had happened at the bar.

Did Eleanor love me? If she didn't, then why did she protect me and helped me escape?

A still small voice inside of me kept affirming that Eleanor did indeed love me. Why else would she have been so happy and ecstatic to see me alive? But another voice began to plant seeds of doubt within me, telling me that it was all merely an illusion, that I was probably overthinking and that I was. Perhaps Eleanor was just protecting me out of sympathy for me.

She didn't want to hurt me...