My Lovely Jerk {Completed}

Chapter - 17

"What do you think of this dress?" I asked Bryson once I stepped out of the changing booth.

Not looking up from his white iPhone, Bryson nodded. "Nice," was all he said as his thumb started to run from the bottom of his screen to the top. It was evident that he was paying no heed to me, which irritated me to no end.

Sighing, I stomped back into the changing room I'd claimed earlier. Closing and locking the door behind me, I couldn't help but feel a mix of anger and sadness.

Ever since the conversation, I brought on at the food court, Bryson has been semi-ignoring me. I mean, he answers me when I ask a question, but his answers are as short as they could come. Hell, he doesn't even look at me when I'm talking or when he's 'replying' to me.

Leaning on the red door of the changing room, I stared at myself in the mirror that was parallel to me. I found myself slowly beginning to focus more on my thoughts than my own reflection.

After a minute my vision became blurry with tears as I started to feel rage at myself for creating the situation, or whatever you'd call it, between Bryson and I. 

I knew, now, that I should've just kept my mouth shut and not repeated the words he said to me in my memory. Now, I bet he thinks I'm remembering him and avoiding the topic of conversation in which I tell him that I regaining my memory.

Which was shorta true...

Rubbing my eyes, I composed myself. I wasn't going to cry. I can't take back what I did and next time, I'll just not bring up anything I remember because it's evident I don't know the whole story.

Like, I've no idea why we were arguing and saying such hateful things to one another in my memory. Also, I've no clue why I said "... I've declined your offer."  

I mean, what offer was I referring too?

Biting my lip, I knew I'd just have to wait for more memories, so I could have all the pieces to the seemingly endless puzzle.

Slipping out of the black, cotton, Midi Dress, I decided that was the perfect thing to wear to the funeral tomorrow.

Placing the dress back on the hanger I took it off of, I inhaled - hoping to calm my nerves. 

It didn't take long for my eyes water, once more, at the mere thought of what was awaiting me on the other side of this changing room.

 Damn it, Elle, why do you have to be so weak? So what if you made him mad? It's not like you haven't made other people mad before, I thought.

 Even though my thoughts were dripping with cruelty, I knew my inner voice was right. I was being weak, pity even. I knew then that I needed to get out of the changing room and grow a tolerance for his behavior - if he chooses to continue to act the way he's acting.

I put back on the purple shirt and jeans that I'd been wearing because they were the only articles of clothing I had at the moment. Once I was dressed, I concluded that it was time to leave the confines of my changing room and face the hell beast.

"I'm ready," I spoke, in a firm tone, as I exited the room.

For the first time in an hour, Bryson looked up from his phone and settled his eyes on me. His green orbs held absolutely no emotion as he nodded. Getting up from his seat, Bryson proceeded in the direction of the checkout counter without looking back to see if I was following.

When we reached the counter, I was pleased to see that there wasn't a line to pay. When we first came in this store there was a good size line and I feared we'd have to stand in line forever.