No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

At this moment, I knew she wouldn't reply. I closed the chat and opened my social feed, only to find a post from Jefferson. It wasn't just him in the photos but a group, clinking their drinks together in celebration. Among those hands, one was unmistakably Conrad's. I recognized it because of the cheap ring he was wearing, a gift from me. Seeing that ring now made me cringe at my own naivety and feel utterly embarrassed.

That ring was part of a matching set, the other half of which was with me, bought for nine hundred and ny-nine yuan on my eighteenth birthday. I wore the female version and gave him the male one, to which he jokingly accused me of trying to tie him down. After that, he never wore it again. When I subtly inquired, he mentioned he was afraid of being made fun of for its cheapness. I knew what he meant; someone of his stature couldn't possibly wear a ring that inexpensive. But it was the first thing I bought with my own earnings from tutoring. From then on, I never brought up the ring again, nor did he wear it. Yet there it was in the photo, on his finger.

What did this mean? Was he trying to tell me something? I didn't know, and I didn't want to guess anymore. But that ring did sting, reminding me of how I had always been so cautious and admiring around Conrad.

My thoughts were interrupted by a text from Fanny. "Who did you sleep with?" Fanny was always blunt. I didn't reply, distracted by the photo of Conrad wearing the ring. "Conrad?" She texted again, followed quickly by, "Impossible." "Ernest?" Fanny finally guessed. She knew my life and my affairs too well for it to be a difficult guess. "The only explanation for nothing happening between a man and a woman alone together is that the man has issues," Fanny texted, stirring the pot.

Did Ernest have issues? The image of Ernest's lean physique flashed before my eyes, instantly dismissing Fanny's suggestion. It wasn't that Ernest was lacking; it was my charm that fell short. Thinking about how I couldn't even compete with a widow in Conrad's eyes, I shook my head and ignored Fanny's messages.

"Felicia, you weren't in bed last night. Where did you go? You didn't reply to my texts, Deborah woke up with the alarm, her first question catching me off guard. I wasn't expecting her, who usually slept through anything, to notice my absence last night. Feeling guilty, I avoided her gaze. "I went for a run." RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

Deborah's eyes widened, "A run in the middle of the night? Are you punishing yourself or just overflowing with hormones and thinking about men?" Her thought process was beyond me...

"Get lost!" I rolled my eyes at her.

"So, why did you really go running at night?" Deborah persisted, finding it hard to believe. I didn't reply but

instead changed the subject,

reminding her to hurry downstallet

claiming a new issue had arisen. She's always been curious, Felicia, if you're finding problems even when you work overtime, maybe you should stop working late."

As we headed down to the dining room for breakfast, we ran into Ernest already there, enjoying his morning meal. "Mr. Collins, good morning Deborah greeted him energetically. Ernest nodded slightly, "Morning." I avoided eye contact and putted Deborah away to choose our breakfast. Surprisingly, she went straight for my bag, "Felicia, I'll have what you're having. You pick for me; I'll save us seats."

I was speechless.

Deborah winked at me, clearly wanting to spend more time near her crush. I didn't know what to say. I really didn't want to sit with Ernest. Reluctantly about to choose our meal, Ernest spoke up, "Deborah, I can save the seats for you. It's best to do your own things."