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.

to share, fine. Whether you have a secret or not, it doesn't matter to me

thought to myself, why am I even trying to make

now it seemed even that

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

told me to pack, but what did

had brought me here with nothing; all

wished to take with me,

take it without

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

bit calmer, I walked to the door. The others were gone, leaving only Yolande querying Ernest,

response, but

What danger? From Brown, or

I was no longer interested. Ernest's fate was

and walked over to

seemed to want to say something as she looked at me, but I

enigma to me; Ernest's fiancée, yet