Forty Three.

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The voice of Beyoncé's singing woke me up from my peaceful sleep. I'd fallen asleep with music playing through my earphones, the volume low.

I was unable to talk to Ms Jones for some reason. Maybe her battery had died because each time I tried to call, it went straight to voicemail.

I'd decided to let the music calm me then I tried to put myself in Justin's shoes to try and get his perspective on the whole thing. I knew that, that was something Ms Jones would've advised me to do. I was still upset that Justin's parents didn't know about my previous job but I was a little proud that I was a cleaner and not something I'd be ashamed to say in church.

I found a tray of food on the night stand: a sandwich, a glass of juice and a chocolate chip croissant.

I couldn't help but smile slightly. He was so sweet. How could I stay totally mad at him?

I slowly began eating, starting with the sandwich, then my phone pinged and I realised it was a text.

'You mad at me still? ):' I knew it was from Justin.

'A bit.' I replied before taking another bite of my sandwich.

'What if I took you out for dinner. Would you still be mad?'

I looked at Justin's text and thought for a moment.

I replied: 'Yes.'

Some time later, Justin replied: 'What if I cooked dinner for you. Would you still be mad?'

I'd never seen him cook by himself before, I thought.

'Yes.' I replied.

Minutes later, Justin replied: 'What if I cooked dinner for you and I was shirtless and you got to watch. Would you still be mad?'

I blushed at the thought and bit my lip as I remembered his wonderfully sculpted body.

'Maybe not.' I replied.

'You're such a perv.' Justin replied and that made me giggle.

'I like the sound of your giggle.' He texted me again.

I looked around the room, wondering how thin these walls were.

The door slowly creaked open and there stood Justin.

"What would you like for dinner?" He asked me softly.

I frowned just looking at him. He looked sorry and upset. His lips were curved into a frown and his eyes weren't as bright as I was used to.

"Surprise me." I said.

He nodded.

I said nothing else.

Justin slowly walked up to me then laid next to me on the bed, facing me.

"I'm sorry, Dileah. I didn't mean to upset you." He said softly.

"I know." I said.

"I want to make it up to you so you can be happy again."

"You can cook shirtless and let me watch." I smiled slightly, laying down beside him.

Justin smiled for a moment then it vanished.

"You know, it doesn't matter what job you used to have. All that matters is that you make me really happy. More happier than any rich girl has ever made me." He said.

I didn't know what to say to that.

"If my family really loves me, that's all they'll take in: the fact that I'm happy with you; happier than ever before." He went on.

"I just want them to like me." I whispered.

"I hope they do too. So far, my mom's your biggest fan. I hope that doesn't change because of what you used to get paid to do. That doesn't define you." Justin stroked my cheek.

I looked at him and smiled slightly.

"But they're your parents. They want what's best for you. They know best."

"Dileah, you're what's best for me. Please believe me. I don't want to argue about this. Please."

And at that, the conversation was over.

Justin really wasn't good with expressing his emotions but he did try. For me.

I, too, didn't want to argue anymore so I buried my face in Justin's chest, taking in his sweet scent.

He wrapped his arms around me and said nothing.

In silence, we laid there, letting our thoughts consume us. We might have dropped the subject but I knew the reality of tomorrow evening just as much as Justin did.

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