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. "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.

not, it doesn't matter to me anymore. Knowing

to myself, why am I even trying to make up

mere curiosity, and now it seemed

stay calm, but my chest felt all tight. I realized then, Ernest's silent demeanor irked me

pack, but what did I have

me here with nothing; all my belongings were still at

to take with me, though: Dustin Wagner's

couldn't take

I decided to take a photo of the diary entries instead. It wasn't snooping

door. The others were gone, leaving only Yolande querying Ernest, "Are you in this till the bitter end, or

waiting for his response, but he walked away

danger. What danger? From

was no longer interested. Ernest's fate was none of my

myself of this and walked over to

to say something as she looked at me,

was an enigma to me; Ernest's fiancée, yet seemingly eager to clear