No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

Chapter 208

The silence was deafening.

I toyed with the idea of finding some excuse to end the call when Jacqueline's voice came through, trembling with emotion, "Herschel's in this state all because of that woman. Just for that, I can't bring myself to accept her."

Jacqueline spat out the words with such venom, it was the first time I'd ever seen her like this.

A chill ran down my spine, leaving me speechless.

"Felicia," Jacqueline called out, "try to visit Herschel more often. You're the only comfort he has left."

Her words weighed heavily on me, but I agreed nheless.

After hanging up, I slumped against the car seat, feeling an invisible weight pressing down on me, making it hard to breathe.

Once home, I curled up on the couch, quietly piecing together the events. Everything seemed to point towards Lord, but Lord's connections with Herschel, especially the secretive nature of Lord's rehab facility, raised even more suspicions.

Why the secrecy if there's nothing to hide?

The more I thought about it, the more it hurt my head, and the more I couldn't stop thinking. In a moment of frustration, I grabbed a cushion and smothered my face with it, my go-to method for self-soothing whenever I felt overwhelmed. Just as I was about to suffocate myself in my confusion, a knock at the door startled me.

At first, I thought I was hallucinating until I heard someone call my name.

I reluctantly removed the cushion and made my way to the door.

Despite it being broad daylight, danger could still lurk. Cautiously, I asked, "Who's there?"

"It's me, Ernest!"

I was taken aback. Why was Ernest back so soon? Had something happened?

Opening the door, I saw Ernest in a black tee and cargo pants, looking effortlessly handsome.

"What brings you here?" I asked, somewhat dazed.

Before I knew it, his hand was on my forehead. The warmth and firmness of his palm gave me a surprising feeling of security.

"You're not feverish, that's good," Ernest said, lifting a bag full of groceries.

"Thought I'd make some chicken soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch, sound good?" Ernest asked, like a considerate partner.Content held by NôvelDrama.Org.

I almost protested, "No need, that's too much trouble, I'll just order some "

But he cut me off before I could finish, "You shouldn't be eating anything too greasy right now."

Before I knew it, Ernest had made

himself at home in my kitchen. According to the old saying about generosity, I was already too deep in his debt.

accepting someone's about

So, I dropped the pretense, grabbed a glass of water, and leaned against the kitchen doorway, watching Ernest bustling around in his apron. "Got some time off from the amusement park project?" Content

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“Almost done,” he replied, his knife skills showcasing his expertise without even needing a glance.

"Let me know when it's over," I reminded him.

Ernest hummed in acknowledgment.

I took a sip of water, my gaze trailing over him, admiring him from head to toe. Ernest was undoubtedly more appealing the more you looked, especially from behind.

To distract myself from any improper thoughts, I focused on the mole behind his neck, "Ernest, we didn't call each other today, did we?" "Nope."

I pursed my lips, "Then how did you know I was home?"

This question had just occurred to me. I hadn't told him, nor had I mentioned anything to Deborah Walker, but here he was, knocking on my door with groceries in hand, clearly knowing I'd be here.