No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

I had stayed there for several days and hadn't seen Ethel's kids come by to visit her. I didn't pry into it. It seemed Ethel treated me and Ernest like her own children.

One evening, while getting ready to sleep, I got a call from Fanny, asking when I planned to return.

"I haven't decided yet," I told her. "I'm genuinely happy in this little neighborhood. It's been the happiest days since my parents passed away."

I even considered extending my vacation until I got tired of being there.

"Are you sure it's not because you can't bear to leave Ernest?" Fanny teased.

Thinking of the few but heart-fluttering encounters with Ernest, I admitted, "It's not about not being able to leave, but my heart feels alive when he's around."

"Looks like our Ms. Hudson has quite the healing touch," Fanny joked.

I didn't respond, and after a few seconds of silence, Fanny continued, "Has that jerk Conrad not tried to contact you? Not even a text?"

I licked my lips. "No."

Fanny snorted, "He thinks you can't live without him."

I knew it deep down. Looking at the moonlight, I whispered, "Let's show Conrad this time."

I fell asleep talking to Fanny. It was still dark when I woke up again, and the call had ended. Fanny had left me a message. [No one is irreplaceable.] Yes, I could live without Conrad. These past few days were proof enough. I was eating well and sleeping soundly.

I was just cracking a small smile and about to drift back to sleep when my phone buzzed with a new message, Who could be messaging me at this hour? Dopened my eyes again, and to my surprise, it was from Conrad. [Had enough? Come back!]

Just those words, but I could feel the anger in them. Had Conrad only remembered me today after all this time? And he assumed I was throwing a tantrum, oblivious to his faults?

I didn't reply and turned off my phone. But sleep had eluded me, so I got out of bed, opened the door, and walked to the backyard, stopping under the oak tree. That was when I heard the creak of a door.

Turning around, I saw Ernest stepping out with a backpack slung over his shoulder and a suitcase in hand.

He seemed surprised to see me in the middle of the night and, without a word, continued to drag his suitcase away.

"Where are you going?" I blurted out.

"Out of town," he answered without stopping, and soon, he was out of the yard.

I stood there, dazed, before walking toward his room.

Unexpectedly, he left the door unlocked. Pushing it open, I switched on the light and saw his room. It was both exactly and nothing like I had imagined.

The bedding was neatly folded, and everything in the room was in order. But what made it different was the many decades-old items scattered around Remembering what my dad had mentioned, I realized those must be the belongings my parents left behind. Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

Ethel found me there, seeming to understand my thoughts without me having to speak. "These are your parents' things. When we fixed up the room you're staying in, I wanted to replace them with new stuff, but Ernest insisted on keeping them and said they were perfectly fine."

Touching those things, I felt a mix of happy and sad. Because of these belongings, I felt an even stronger urge to stay, even if Ernest was gone.

But then, I received a voice message from Deborah, almost in tears. [Felicia, there's a big trouble with the lights at the amusement park. We need you back.]