No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

Chapter 270



He let me turn his face towards me, continuing, "Do you even realize what you were saying?"

"I have no clue. It's all just nonsense you're making up," I denied, unwilling to admit to the embarrassing things I supposedly did.

"You even said it was like 'sealing the deal.' You kissed me, stamped your claim, and declared I was yours to marry when you grew up. Insisted that I couldn't be with anyone but you," Ernest said, suddenly looking down.

"Licia, I've followed your 'orders,' living well into my thirties without so much as dating, never giving another girl a second glance, let alone holding hands. I've been waiting for you, so you've got to take responsibility," Ernest's words were laden with a sense of being wronged, as if a 'no' from me would be a massive letdown.

All this time, I believed Conrad was my childhood sweetheart, but I was wrong. It was actually Ernest who filled that role, the kind that's brief yet lasts a lifetime.

Only, I was too young back then, leaving all the sweet memories for Ernest to hold on to alone.

"Alright, I'll take responsibility," I said, standing on tiptoes, reaching up to bite gently at his appealing jawline.

He let out a soft hum, and I laughed, "A new seal, a deeper one, so any girl who wishes to like you will think twice."

Ernest laughed, a restrained, gentle laugh, "You're as bossy as you were when you were little."

soft, especially around the Wagners and Conrad, bending to others' wishes unless it went against

revived my childhood in full, and though I can't discern how much is true, I genuinely felt

quite the catch, a hefty fish weighing over four

for dinner, your favorite as a kid," Ernest's offhand comment made me believe his stories were true, as I indeed loved fish, especially my mom's grilled fish that

my mom had promised to make me grilled fish for dinner. But I never got to

then, I'd

Ine

even Herschel, Jacqueline, Conrad, and Dustin thought I disliked fish But Ernest knew I loved

that moment, I felt

was my mom's

her love, and

her. Now, someone else remembered too,

like my mom's, bursting with flavor, as if

mine how to cook fish, having grown up by the

for ten years, and now her love was

dinner, Ernest

on the couch browsing on

while he