Page 3 of Christmas with Billionaire's Runaway Bride

"Oh, don't stop on my account. Go ahead." Kendra replies.

I find myself standing in a master suite that rivals the most luxurious of hotels. The bed is a cocoon of plushness, dressed in layers of soft linens and plumped pillows. A private balcony beckons, offering a tranquil oasis for moments of contemplation. The en-suite bathroom is a sanctuary of relaxation, featuring a freestanding soaking tub, a rain shower that promises a sensory escape, and a vanity adorned with crystal-clear glass and gleaming fixtures.

As I wander through this enchanting home, I can't help but feel a mixture of awe and wonder. The rich neighborhood of New York has unveiled a world of unparalleled beauty and sophistication, a living testament to the heights of human achievement and creativity.

The initial shock of a new environment quickly phases out, although not completely, and I quickly settle in. At the back of my mind, I know that I need to get my affairs in order and get myself out of leeching off of my best friend. I scour through countless job listings, my eyes gliding over the endless stream of opportunities. Each click brings a flicker of hope, only to be extinguished by the stark reality of fierce competition. With the help of Kendra, I tailor my resume, meticulously crafting each cover letter, hoping to stand out from the sea of applicants.

My days blur into a cycle of submissions, rejections, and the relentless anticipation of a response. The constant ping of notifications keeps me on edge, a mix of excitement and anxiety. I navigate through job boards, networking platforms, and company websites, each click representing a chance to escape the clutches of unemployment. The virtual labyrinth is daunting, but I press on, fueled by determination and the belief that the perfect opportunity awaits, just one click away.

As I keep on searching and as days move along, my hopes dwindle to a point of no return. As much as all my needs are taken care of, I can't help but feel reminded about my situation just by looking around at what surrounds me. I knew that I was out of place and that I did not belong there. An eerie feeling of loneliness and hopelessness fills me up. I feel like I stand alone in this unfamiliar city, my heart heavy with the weight of disappointment. The job searches, once filled with optimism, has become a relentless cycle of rejection and frustration. My parent's rejection keeps echoing through my mind and it is like I relive that moment over and over to the point of having nightmares about it.

With each application submitted and interview attended hope flickers briefly before being extinguished by yet another "We regret to inform you" email. The sense of hopelessness creeps in slowly like a shadow overtaking the sun. I thought leaving home would be a step towards independence, but instead, it feels like I've wandered into a maze of uncertainty.

As the days turn into weeks, I find myself facing the harsh reality of the fact that sooner or later, I'll have to move out to fend for myself and without any progress and my futile efforts, doubts gnaw at my confidence, and I question my worth and abilities. Each rejection letter feels like a confirmation of my inadequacy, a stark reminder of my inability to meet even the basic expectations of employers.

Nights are spent staring at the ceiling, my mind racing with worries about what lies ahead. The once-bright dreams of a successful career and a sense of accomplishment now feel like distant mirages. I long for the comfort of home, for the reassurance of my parents' support, even if it means swallowing my pride. The hopelessness I carry is a heavy burden, an invisible weight that drags me down with every step. Yet, amidst the struggle, a stubborn member of determination still glows within me. I hold onto the belief that someday, somehow, I will find my way out of this darkness and forge a path toward a brighter tomorrow.

Kendra notices that I am struggling as she sits me down for a talk. I explain to her everything that has transpired since we graduated, up until the day we met. She is filled with sadness and a tinge of anger towards me.

" How can you go through that and fail to tell me? I am always here for you and don't you dare forget that. I am here even right now. Don't worry about money or anything. I will even talk to my dad so that he can give you something to do at his company." Kendra says with conviction. As much as I want that, I cannot help but feel more unsettled by that offer. I did not want to be a charity case but now my situation was forcing me into one. I just hugged her as the clouds of emotions whirled around me.

"Don't worry about that. You have already done enough by giving me a place to stay." I whisper, my voice hitching in my throat.

*****

I awaken abruptly to the sound of a sudden disturbance, jolting me awake from slumber. Hastily, I exit the comfortable, all-white confines of my bedroom and collide with Kendra, her disoriented demeanor catching my attention. Upon closer inspection, I noticed her pale look and panicked demeanor. Gently, I grasp her shoulders, attempting to draw her focus, but she collapses against me, her tears tracing a path down her cheeks.

"What's wrong? Tell me," I implore, my fear rising.

"It's my brother," she manages to choke out.

"What's happened to him, darling? Explain. You're frightening me," I blurt out, my concern, sounding harsh.

"My parents just called... the car they were in, was bombed. He's being transported here today," she conveys, struggling to regain her composure as I guide her to a nearby couch.

"From Afghanistan?" I ask, a sense of disbelief coloring my question.

"Yes, you silly," she retorts.

"Well then, let's not waste any more time. We need to get ready and go to him! What are we waiting for?" I exclaim, urgency propelling us onto our feet.

Chapter Three

Emergency

We swiftly enter another luxurious car and it whisks us away to what is undoubtedly the most lavish hospital I've ever seen in New York. While my eyes drink and soak in the extravagance of our surroundings – the car and the hospital alike – I remain silent, the gravity of the situation holding my words captive. I dread saying something that will make me look like an insensitive person on a tour. Our journey concludes suddenly and everything changes. Even the air within the hospital carries a distinct quality. Everywhere I look, an air of affluence and authority hangs heavy, making me feel distinctly out of my element.

My train of thought is interrupted by a man who appears to be acquainted with Kendra. He guides us through a secluded corridor, and we step into an elevator. As the doors slide shut, I'm instantly disoriented, and when they open again, I'm met with what could easily be mistaken for a penthouse suite rather than a medical facility. Kendra's brother rests on the bed, cocooned by his concerned parents. Kendra rushes to his side, her attempt to clasp his hand but she is stopped by her parents' intervention. Surprise marks her expression as she gazes at them, yet her father envelopes her in a comforting embrace.

"Please, someone assure me that he'll be alright," she whispers, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

I stand back and watch in awe as her parents cover her with love, support, and gentleness. My eyes immediately sting with tears threatening to dribble all over. All that reminds me of my emotionless parents and I am filled with sorrow and admiration at the same time. If only mine were like hers, life wouldn't have to be so hard on me. Severely overwhelmed, I get back into the elevator to give them a little privacy and to get my own to compose myself.

It takes what seems to be like ages but I eventually get back to Kendra. I walk back into the hospital room, and as my eyes meet theirs, a wave of self-consciousness washes over me. The idea of retreating to the elevator briefly crosses my mind, a fleeting thought that hints at escape. Standing there, feeling awkward and uncertain, I'm snapped out of my daze by a deep voice that cuts through the silence.

"Who is that? And how did she manage to get to this part of the hospital?" Kendra's brother's words pierce the air, laced with a touch of rudeness that doesn't go unnoticed.

'Oh great, he's awake and quite the jackass,' I mutter inwardly, mentally cursing his attitude.

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