No More Waiting, She Chooses Love



Ernest's eyes seemed to darken as he turned his gaze towards Yolande. She raised an eyebrow, embodying the very essence of assertiveness.

In Ernest's world, she seemed to roam freely, undaunted by his presence.Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

"Spill it, then. No use in tormenting the poor soul," Yolande chimed in.

Ernest looked back at me. "If you're leaving, go pack your..."

"Ernest," I cut him off, "why can't you give a straight answer?"

"I'll leave you two to chat," Yolande said, distancing herself from the conversation.

There we stood, Ernest and I, face to face.

"So, what do you think my big secret is?" he retorted.

That got me. Yolande was already playing coy, and now Ernest was dodging the question.

It was clear he didn't want to talk.

"Ernest, if you don't want to share, fine. Whether you have a secret or not, it doesn't matter to me anymore. Knowing won't change anything," I snapped back, frustration boiling over.

I thought to myself, why am I even trying to make up with him here?

It was mere curiosity, and now it seemed even that was unwarranted.

I kept telling myself to stay calm, but my chest felt all tight. I realized then, Ernest's silent demeanor irked me more than Conrad's slick explanations ever could.

He told me to pack, but what did I have to pack?

Conrad had brought me here with nothing; all my belongings were still at the hotel.

There was one thing I wished to take with me, though: Dustin Wagner's diary.

But I couldn't take it without being discovered.

After some thought, I decided to take a photo of the diary entries instead It wasn't snooping for the sake of it; there seemed to be something hidden in those last entries.

After taking the photos and feeling a bit calmer, I walked to the door. The others were gone, leaving only Yolande querying Ernest, "Are you in this till the bitter end, or do you think you're still in danger?"

I paused, waiting for his response, but he walked away without a word.

Yolande mentioned danger. What danger? From Brown, or Henrik?

Although curious, I was no longer interested. Ernest's fate was none of my concern.

I reminded myself of this and walked over to Yolande. "Let's go."

She seemed to want to say something as she looked at me, but I didn't give her the chance.

Yolande was an enigma to me;

Ernest's fiancée, yet seemingly eager to clear up any

misunderstandings between Ernest and me. Why bother giving me hints and lecturing Ernest otherwise?

Reaching Ernest's car, I found him already inside, smoking a cigarette.

At first, I thought he was a stand-up guy, but now, seeing him betray and smoke, it was clear you can't judge a book by its cover.

Without a word, I opened the door and got in, and Yolande followed, sitting next to me.

I glanced at the passenger seat. Shouldn't his fiancée be sitting there?

Ernest drove away, and as I glanced in the rearview mirror at Dustin's villa, it looked familiar, almost as if I had seen it somewhere before.

Yolande was busy with her phone, and I stared out the window, the silence between Ernest and me suffocating.

Finally, I broke the silence. "I need to stop by the hotel to get my things."