No More Waiting, She Chooses Love
Chapter 676

On such a still and eerie night, the sensation was downright unsettling. Suddenly, my skin prickled, and I hurried my pace, eventually breaking into a run. Out of breath, I reached my car where the driver was waiting, chuckling when he saw me, "No need to rush, I'm not in

a hurry." It wasn't about being in a hurry; it was fear that propelled me forward.

I glanced back at the alley I had sprinted from; it looked utterly deserted. But I could've sworn I heard footsteps as clear as day, as if someone was indeed there. Now seated in the car, I regretted not taking a second look.

I immediately shared the eerie encounter with Fanny Willis over the phone. She laughed at my story, "Sounds like you had a ghostly encounter in the middle of the night."

Ghosts? I don't believe in them. I was about to argue when Fanny added, "Could've been a stalker, you know."

That seemed more plausible. Dark alleys were perfect spots for such creeps, but if it were a stalker, surely they would've made move, not just silently followed me.

"Stop overthinking and get some sleep. And hey, you've been hitting the bottle pretty hard lately. It's not good for you; maybe cut back a bit," Dr. Willis advised.

"Yeah, I know," I replied, somewhat dismissively.

I was aware of the dangers of drinking, but insomnia had been haunting me lately, and alcohol seemed the only remedy to get some sleep.

As the driver pulled away from the alley, I glanced back one last time and caught sight of a figure emerging and walking in the opposite direction. The silhouette was tall and imposing, eerily reminiscent of Ernest. My heart raced, and I tapped the driver's seat frantically, "Stop the car! Stop the car!"

The driver stopped, but the doors were locked, and in my panic, I couldn't get them open.

"Unlock it, unlock it!" I cried out to the driver.

Once the door was unlocked, I flung it open and stepped out, only to misjudge the distance and fall, my knees hitting the ground hard, sending a jolt of pain that made stars dance before my eyes.

By the time the driver came to help me, the figure had vanished, leaving only the throbbing pain of scraped knees..., Tears streamed down my face ast sat on the ground,

overwhelmed by pain and emotion,

all my pretense of strengtel Ae

shattered by the fall.

The driver, visibly concerned, called James, who, along with the driver, accompanied me to the hospital.

Fanny treated my wounds, her skepticism evident as she asked, "Did you really see Ernest? Or was it just the liquor playing tricks on you?"

The haze of alcohol had lifted by then, leaving me to ponder the figure I thought I saw. Could it have been him, or just a figment of my imagination?

Yet, recalling the incident at the amusement park, part of me couldn't shake off the belief that Ernest was still alive, lurking in the shadows, silently watching over me. "Fanny, if he's alive, why hasn't he shown himself to me?" I murmured.

The sharp sting of iodine on my wounds drew a silent grimace from me, but after enduring heart-wrenching pain, this was bearable.

"He must have his reasons," Fanny

said, understanding the pain of disinfection as she gently blew on the wound. "If Ernest really is alive and comes back, would you run into his arms without hesitation,

nor..."

swng

II

She left the question hanging, but I knew what she meant. Would I hold a grudge against Ernest?