Chapter - 47

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6 Days Later:

The only thing that could be heard in the hotel room was the sound of the air conditioner working hard to pump cool air in the room.

Staring away from the celebrity magazine before me, I took the - now melted, yet still cold - ice pack I had on my right shoulder, off and set it on the mattress before me. My skin on my shoulder, along with other various parts of my body, felt overly hot. Wincing, I realized just how much I hated the sun for sunburn was not fun, at all.

Suddenly, another (but more frozen) pack of ice bounced on my bed, twice, before finally landing a few inches in front of me. I looked up and saw Bryson walking away from my bed and over to his, which was right next to mine. Bryson plopped down and grabbed the remote off of the nightstand by his bed. With one click he turned on the television, not saying a single word to me.

I sighed for I never imagined that things would become extremely awkward between Bryson and me, but I should have seen it coming. After all, what did I expect to happen? He did admit one of the reasons he picked me for his plan was because he had some sort of ‘feeling’ towards me and wanted to explore it - only to have me reject him.

However, the thought never crossed my mind that an uncomfortable silence would blanket us for the whole trip. I’m not even kidding; our communication on the ‘honeymoon’ remained on a need basis only.

It would be a lie if I said that the silence we have been sharing is what I wanted because the truth of the matter is that I wanted to talk to him (not to mention, I’m the kind of girl that loves to talk. So, the whole not speaking to one another thing makes me want to bang my head on a wall, repeatedly). Yet, even with the urge to have more communication then we have been having, I just had no idea what exactly to say to him. I feared any words that leaked out of my mouth, to start up a conversation, would only lead back to when he admitted he held some sort of feelings towards me. It was not my intention to pour salt on a, clearly, open wound that was formed from me rejecting him.

Just the thought that I was hurting him, made me toss and turn at night. It didn’t help that the bags under his eyes showed that he was getting about as much sleep as I was. I, also, could barely eat - like him - but the reason food didn’t settle well with me was because I was stressed that I was hurting him.

However, even with the constant worrying that what I said was affecting him ... I couldn’t take back what I said for I was honest. I don’t like him. I mean, how could I like Bryson Wyatt?

Pushing all thoughts of Bryson, out of my mind - I reached over on the nightstand and picked up my phone. Once I turned on my phone I saw that Mayla had texted me saying that the day after tomorrow, she expected me to come back to work.

I chuckled but sent her a reply that that was the day after I get back.

Her response was quick and short: I know.

Rolling my eyes, I went to my contacts and figured I would go ahead and set up an appointment with my father. Remembering the time stamps on our plane tickets that stated we were supposedly supposed to get back into town tomorrow around 12 in the afternoon, I figured I would play it safe and get my father’s latest appointment.

“Hello?” Marybeth, my dad’s personal assistant, spoke after a few short rings.

“Hi, Marybeth, this is Elle,” I stated, “I was wondering if I can get an appointment with my father. Sometime tomorrow.”

There was static on the other end for a few long seconds before Marybeth’s voice broke through, “Your father doesn’t wish to see you at the time being.”

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