No matter how much she tried, Angela couldn't write a single word the entire afternoon after what happened with her and Gael. She sat at a coffee table in her suite, laying her cheek on top of her arms, and staring at the rain outside her window. She was too stressed about everything. Not to mention, in her momentary weakness, she had set up a date with someone she didn't even like that much. What was she doing? She was better than this.
The sky was so dark at seven in the evening. Anytime soon, and Francis would ring her door for the soirée at the resort's club. A lot of people were stuck on the island just like her, so the resort arranged a soirée, giving complimentary drinks to the guests.
While other guests wanted to be here, she wanted to go back home—away from Gael—away from the man who had been causing her to act like a loon.
