No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

But there I was, lying on the stiff mattress, my mind a whirlwind of chaos and emptiness, not feeling like sleeping.

Eventually, I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my messages, spotting texts from Deborah and Ivan.

Deborah texted, [Felicia, today was a killer, but I got through the pile of work you left for me. You better have some candy for me as a reward tomorrow. Oh, and Felicia, congrats on tying the knot. Wishing you a lifetime of happiness.]

I couldn't help but smirk at her message, leaving it unanswered.

Ivan sent this message. [Ms. Hudson, please don't get the wrong idea about Mr. Wagner. It would be a real shame if anything happened between you two.]

I didn't reply to him, either. Instead, I opened my social media, found a shadowy picture of myself at the amusement park, and posted it with the caption, "Happy Holidays!"

After that, I scrolled through my posts and deleted everything related to Conrad. It felt like something a celebrity going through a breakup would do. It was best to erase all traces of that love if we were no longer a couple and couldn't be lovers. It would only serve to sour the heart and turn the stomach.

Messing around with my phone took me up to 3 AM. My eyes stung, so I tossed the phone aside and closed them.

Just then, I heard footsteps outside. They passed my door and faded with the sound of a door closing. I knew Ernest was back.

Despite going to bed late, I woke up early, unable to sleep with all the noise outside. But my eyelids were incredibly heavy, refusing to open, so I stayed in bed even though I was awake.

"Ernest, could you come home early tonight? I was thinking of inviting our new tenant over for dinner," Ethel's voice made me smile even in my half- awake state.

Ethel was always so warm-hearted, even planning a dinner. It gave me a sense of coming home.

"I can't make it. Go on without me," Ernest replied, his voice as gruff as his demeanor.

He was such a bore.NôvelDrama.Org: owner of this content.

Any woman who liked a man of this

kind must have a penchant for

suffering. With that thought, I dismissed the man from my mind. After our interactions the day before, he had hit all my wrong buttons.

Not long after Ernest left, I got up, still in my pajamas, and lazily opened the door. The courtyard was filled with sunshine filtering through the gaps in the ginkgo leaves, scattering like golden spots on the ground.

"You're up, dear. I've just made some mashed potatoes. Care for some?" Ethel held a bowl of mashed potatoes.

Such a homely treat was right up my alley, so I accepted without hesitation. "Sounds great."

"Then come over and have some," Ethel was seated at the stone table under the oak tree.

At that moment, memories of my childhood, of my parents, flooded back, and my eyes welled up.

"Ethel, I was born in this courtyard," I shared my parents' story with Ethel as I ate the potato.

Ethel nodded vigorously, visibly moved, "You're Felicia from Luke's family? What are the odds? Why didn't you say so yesterday?"

I felt touched. "I was afraid you might have second thoughts about letting me stay, maybe even ask me to leave."

"What are you talking about, child?

When I bought this house, I settled everything fair and square with your parents. I've got nothing to fear," Ethelooked at me. "You've got your mother's looks, beautiful."

My mother's face was becoming a blur. But she was indeed beautiful.

"Licia, you're here alone, aren't you? No boyfriend, I assume. How about I play matchmaker? You and Ernest could try it," Ethel's suggestion caught me off guard.