No More Waiting, She Chooses Love novel Chapter 211

The night I left home, Ernest's place was cloaked in darkness, his windows void of light, indicating he wasn't there.

By the time Dustin called me, I was already waiting at the train station.

This time, I opted for the high-speed rail instead of flying.

Even though it would take an extra two hours, I preferred the feeling of being grounded to floating in the air.

"Felicia, your car's ready. Where are you? I'll bring it over," Dustin's voice, always so warm and soothing, reached me.

I glanced around the waiting room, noting everyone's heads bowed over their smartphones, and replied nonchalantly, "Just leave it at the garage. I'll pick it up myself."

Dustin paused, and I added, "I know the place."

The Wagner family always took their cars to the same garage for maintenance, something I was well aware of.

"Mechanic mentioned your car was tampered with," Dustin's words made me freeze for a moment.

Of course, I felt guilty because I was the one who had it tampered with.

"Is that so?" I feigned surprise.

"Felicia, has someone else been driving your car?" Dustin pressed, concern lacing his tone.

I knew he was worried about me. I bit my lip, pondering over how to respond.

Then, Dustin added, "Whoever did it wasn’t out to harm you, just to cause some trouble. Luckily, it happened when you were heading home. It could have been more problematic if you were elsewhere."

With that, I no longer felt the need to make up excuses. "I understand."

After a brief silence, Dustin spoke again, sensing the noise around me, "You're out, aren’t you? It sounds busy."

"Mhm," was all I replied with.

Dustin, picking up on my reluctance to continue the conversation, softly said, "Just be careful, then."

Admitting to myself that I had developed feelings for Ernest, I was cautious due to past heartbreak. If I were to start something, I wanted to be in control.

Arriving at Galaxy Harbor in the dead of night, I avoided the family home, fearing Ethel might insist I stay, and opted for a hotel instead.

By 10 a.m. the next day, I reached Sunnyside and soon found Ernest's place.

Standing outside, before even stepping foot in the yard, I regretted not coming sooner.

The quaint yard was straight out of a dream, adorned with trees, flowers, a grapevine-draped pergola, and a swing. The houses, with their slate roofs and brick walls, connected by a porch lined with lanterns that swayed gently in the breeze, captivated me.

Across from the yard was a river, with a stone bridge where people were washing clothes, a scene so idyllic it felt lifted from a fantasy.

Had I not seen it with my own eyes, I would never have believed such a fairy-tale place existed in real life.

It was absolutely beautiful.