No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

Chapter 233

Late at night, when most sensible folks were winding down, my phone lit up with a friend request. It was from a man. My gut churned uneasily - this was off.

Despite Jefferson saying Allen wouldn't dare cross a line with me, a woman's intuition whispered caution. And accepting a man's request in the dead of night? That screamed recklessness.

Choosing to ignore it, I continued my chat with Fanny, my heart sinking as she spoke of a successful surgery completed by Allen and his well- matched partner. I could sense her disappointment. Love, as I knew it, thrived on equality and harmony. Fanny was exceptional, but next to Allen's worldly demeanor, she felt overshadowed.

I swiftly changed the subject, wrapping up our conversation before my gaze returned to Allen's pending request. Trouble seemed to trail him, but I needed answers about my father's mysterious death – a risk I had to take.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

As I was about to power down my phone, a message from Conrad popped up, eerily echoing Ernest's earlier warning: "Stay away from Allen!" Their concern, while comforting, felt misplaced now.

I turned off my phone, the lingering effects of the moonshine I'd downed at a local BBQ stand earlier making me too lazy to even consider a shower before bed.

The next morning, after some yoga and a strong coffee, I accepted Allen's request. He wouldn't be awake yet, sparing me immediate concerns.

At work, Grant's odd glances didn't

go unnoticed, but I was too swamped with backlogged tasks to dwell on it. By lunch, I was ready to stretch my legs, and Grant's invitation to lunch didn't surprise me. His eyes, however, lacked sincerity.

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In the cafeteria, my modest meal prompted a comment from Grant about my weight, a common concern masked as flattery. My appetite had been spoiled by memories of Ernest's cooking - a standard no cafeteria could meet.

Grant mistook my discerning taste for the influence of growing up in the Wagner family, unaware that it was Ernest who had spoiled me.

While pondering over Ernest's

promise of a delicious dinner,

Grant's offer to dine out felt overly

keen. I declined, focusing on my meal as he inquired about Ernest's role in my life, his curiosity

stemming from an earlier encounter.

His bluntness contrasted with Jeff's tact, but I found it amusing. Grant seemed convinced that a woman like me needed a "tougher" partner, a notion I found quaint yet misplaced.