No More Waiting, She Chooses Love novel Chapter 36

I never truly pondered it until Dustin's words acted like a switch, triggering a cascade of memories that played like an old movie reel.

"What did he do? Can you tell me?" In my silence, Dustin tentatively probed.

If I didn't speak up, their curiosity would linger, Conrad would think I was making a fuss, and upon my return, I'd face interrogation from Herschel and Jacqueline. Spilling the beans seemed like the only way to end it all.

"He was seeing another woman," I finally let out, which led to immediate silence on Dustin's end.

Knowing Dustin might be in disbelief, I added, "His buddy's wife, to be precise. Even your parents are aware of their affair."

That left Dustin speechless. I chuckled, "You know now, too, right?"

After all, secrets had a way of coming out. Conrad and I skipped getting a marriage license, and I bet his parents and Dustin will have a bunch of questions.

"Rad's crazy about you. It can't be true. Maybe there's some misunderstanding," Dustin spoke, defending Conrad's love for me as he’d previously affirmed my feelings for Conrad.

It wasn't surprising he felt that way. During the years he was around, Conrad often flirted with me and kept other men at bay. If Dustin and I got too close, Conrad would protest.

"Dustin, people change," I said as footsteps approached from outside.

Lifting my head, I saw a sturdy figure flash past the window.

Then, I heard our landlord Ethel's voice, "Ernest, is that you?"

It seemed the tenant I wanted to switch rooms with had returned, and Ethel's question confirmed my suspicion as she had inquired on my behalf.

I also caught Ernest’s reply, "No switch."

The thin walls made every outside noise audible, and on the other end of the call, Dustin picked up on it, too, "Felicia, where are you? It's late, and I don't want you outside where it's unsafe."

I sighed, placing down my phone just in time to hear the running water outside.

"Ernest, why are you washing your hair with cold water again? You'll catch a cold," Ethel nagged.

Remembering how decisively Ernest had refused to switch rooms, I opened my door, only to find a man under the dim yard light, vigorously washing his hair in a military green tank top.

The sound of water splashing, his fingers swiftly working through his hair, his movements efficient and sharp.

As he turned off the tap and stood upright, his broad shoulders, muscular build, narrow waist, and long legs defined under the belt around his waist painted a picture of raw power and allure, with a hint of wildness.

Caught off guard by his sudden turn, our eyes locked. His eyes narrowed.

I froze. It was that man, the taxi driver, who looked like he had just stepped out of a different world.