No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

The scene unfolding before me was unexpected, snapping me back to reality in an instant.

A woman stuck between two men... Frankly, it was awkward.

At that moment, I knew I had to make a choice to break this stalemate, and one thing was crystal clear: Dustin and I were a no-go.

If I had to choose, it would only be Ernest. Conrad and I were practically at the altar already; there was no way I was going to bail on him, only to get tangled up with his brother.

"Dustin, I'm beat," I finally said.

That seemed to do the trick. Dustin tightened his grip on my hand for a moment before letting go.

Ernest took my hand and led me away. I didn't look back, but I could feel Dustin's gaze on me the whole time.

Maybe it was the wine, or just my head spinning, but I missed a step on the hotel stairs. The next thing I knew, Ernest had scooped me up.

"Put me down," I said, tugging at Ernest's shirt.

"If you want him to give up, keep quiet," Ernest murmured.

Remembering Dustin's words, I stayed still in Ernest's arms, not wanting to complicate things further. Dustin was like a brother to me, truly. I didn't want to ruin that.

Dustin was the reserved type, not one to throw around the word 'love' carelessly, nor to cling desperately. If he thought there was someone else for me besides Conrad, he'd likely step back.

Eventually, Ernest carried me all the way to the hotel room door without putting me down.

If I could understand Dustin's feelings, how could I not see that Ernest had feelings for me too?© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

Today, I had cut off any possibility with Dustin, and it was time to clear the air with Ernest too.

As he put me down, I didn't let go but instead clutched the front of his shirt, gazing boldly into his eyes.

"Ernest, you're quite the looker," I blurted out.

"Hmm," he allowed me to stare.

They say alcohol emboldens the meek. My fingers traced his proud nose, "You must have a lot of girls liking you, right?" "Hmm," he admitted with confidence.

I laughed, my finger moving to the corner of his eye, "Deborah likes you too."

It wasn't that I was betraying Deborah's secret. Her crush was almost written on her face, and Ernest wasn't blind.

"And what about you? Do you like me?" Ernest didn't hum this time; he went straight for the question.

I paused, then shook my head, "No."

Ernest's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't ask why.

I said it anyway, "Ernest, I don't want a man who's wanted by everyone, don't like competing. I just want someone who's mine alone, even if he's not as handsome as you."

"Okay," he replied.

I smiled, asking, "What does that mean?"

He looked unfazed. "Just that I understand."

I didn't try to wrap my head around his response. Instead, I let my hand slide from his cheek down to his shoulder. "Ernest, don't flirt with me, don't be nice to me..."

As I pulled my hand away and stepped back, Ernest caught my waist. "The fact that I like you and want to pursue you is my business. How you respond is up to you. Just take care of yourself, don't tell me what to do."

Now I was the one confused. He likes me but tells me not to mind?

"So, you mean you'll keep flirting with me? Keep trying to charm me?" I asked bluntly.