Our Life Together

Chapter Twenty Four

 A smack Coen across the face and stand up as quick as possible with my broken ankle. He holds his hand up to his left cheek. His face is written over with shock, something I'm my face would display if it were not for the anger that pulses through my veins. I quickly pick up my crutches to attempt to balance myself.

"What the heck was that?" I yell in his face. He stands up so we are eye to eye. His hazel eyes remind me so much of Flynn's and an urge inside of me that only recognizes the eyes are telling me to forget about it, that it is only a kiss. Sometime, though, that part of me might need to be murdered because it was not just some random kiss. This kiss was with my husband's brother.

"Celia, I didn't mean to. . . It was really nothing!" Coen exclaims. I shake my head and begin to walk, well crutch, towards the palace doors struggling with the cell phone that the guard gave me when Flynn called. Coen is quick to catch up, though, since he does need the aid of crutches.

"Coen, get out of my way," I growl. He shakes his head and puts his arms on my shoulder in an attempt to get me to stay put. I chop them down and continue moving forward. He stops me at the french doors where two guards have their backs to us. I am thankful for this as this situation could arouse trouble.

"Just let me say something first," Coen tries to bargain. I shake my head and try to walk forward but he grabs hold of my right crutch making it virtually impossible for me to move forward.

"Coen, do you know how lucky you are that there were no cameras around? They get one look at that and everything crashes down. The palace would be in total chaos. My parents would be so angry it is indescribable. But most importantly, my marriage with your brother would be ruined. I would no longer have a chance with the love of my life," I spit at him. He winces a little as I say it. He lets go of my crutch and lets me walk forward I open the door but he grabs my shoulder first.

"In case you are wondering, I don't regret it," he says in a whisper that is loud enough for me to hear yet muted enough that the guards would not. I walk down the hallway with the fast click of my heels echoing behind me. Any passing guards or maids that I would normally speak to seem to realize the angry energy that radiates off of me as they don't say anything.

"Celia! I was hoping you could help me start planning the Easter ball," my mother says as I walk through the doors of the Women's room. In hopes that my first time planning our annual Easter party will calm the anger inside me, I sit next to her at one of the tables to begin picking out flower arrangements for a holiday that is only a few weeks away.

§§§

I walk up to my room with a stack of papers full of instructions on what should happen at Easter. It includes the list of events for the public and for ourselves, the types of flowers that are sociably acceptable on Easter—seriously, who decided that daisies should not be at the tables at the Easter ball?—, and a calendar of available times for everything.

As I open the large, wooden door I am greeted with silence like it has been for the last few weeks. I flip one of the switches on the wall and dim lights cut on. I walk over to the table that has become a light night work station for both me and Flynn.

I scribble down notes for a few more hours until I look up at the clock on the wall. 10:27. I stand up and leave my work on the table since no one will be messing with it until tomorrow morning. I remove a night gown from my wardrobe and walk into the bathroom where I bathe and get dressed for bed.

Only when I crawl under the sheets of the large bed do I feel truly alone. Like it has been for the last few weeks, I am the only one laying under the imported, silk sheets. Flynn isn't here to whisper good night into my ear or give me a good night kiss. He isn't here to help me solve my problems.

This problem is one I feel the need to talk to someone about, but I am left to wonder who. My mother would just give me some advice about my father's selection. My brother would be no help since his only love is video games. Quinn and Teegan are related to the problem. Astra and Emily probably wouldn't take it seriously. There is only one person I want to help me with problem: Flynn.

Flynn isn't here to give me advice. He isn't here to whisper that everything will be alright into my ear until I fall asleep. Even if he were here, would I be able to talk to him about this certain situation. Would he be biased to my side or Coen's?

Then, that leads to one final thought: Will I even tell him when he returns from his trip?

This is like three days after I promised so oops... Anyways, this chapter was wrote like a few minutes ago and my brain hurts because I ran out of ideas so... Like I said, my brain hurts so I skimmed over this quickly. Please comment and vote!

I have a question. Do you think it would be rushed if Maxon and Flynn return home in the next few chapters? I really wanna bring them home because I kind of want to move on in the story rather than have a bunch of short, boring ones.

Disclaimer: If I owned The Selection, Aspen never would have had a chance with America so it is pretty obvious that it belongs to someone else who isn't me. That someone else who isn't me is Miss Kiera Cass.