“Thank you, Mr. Holland.” Ernest smiled and then glanced toward Elissa. “About our wedding plans…” he said casually, yet his voice carried weight. “I’ve been prepared for this moment from the beginning. I’m ready.”
Addy blinked, caught off guard, before turning his gaze toward his granddaughter.
Across the table, Elissa was in mid-sip of her soup. At Ernest’s words, she choked on the spoonful, coughing as her eyes flew to him in disbelief. Content originally comes from Find[?]ovel.net
“Easy now,” Ernest said with a gentle chuckle, leaning in slightly. “Careful—you’re always this clumsy, aren’t you?”
Ernest handed Elissa a napkin with quiet care, and then turned back to Addy as though the interruption hadn’t fazed him.
“I’m a few years older than Elissa,” he said calmly. “At my age, marriage isn’t something I take lightly. I should be thinking seriously about it… Believe me when I say I know exactly what I want—but I won’t rush her. It has to be her decision as well.”
Addy let out a strained chuckle, still processing Ernest’s earlier declaration. He nodded slowly. “It’s a big decision. You’re right not to take it lightly.”
“Exactly, Mr. Holland!” Ernest agreed, a hint of solemnity settling into his voice. “Elissa’s last marriage… left its mark. She has every reason to be cautious.” He turned toward Elissa briefly—his gaze steady, reassuring. “I understand. I’m not in a hurry.”
His words fell like thunder in the silent room. Everyone at the table could hear the subtext loud and clear. He knew about Elissa’s past, and he didn’t care. He wasn’t walking away—he was standing by her.
Louisa stiffened, and Bonnie’s face flushed. They exchanged a glance, this time without smugness. Neither spoke again.
“That’s good to know.” Addy’s eyes softened with rare approval. “Mr. Flynn, please, eat more. Don’t be shy.”
“Thank you, Mr. Holland.”
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After dinner, Addy asked Elissa to join him in his study—there were a few personal matters he wanted to discuss.
Back in the living room, Ernest sat on the couch, quietly reviewing work reports on his phone. His brow furrowed slightly, attention focused.
“Mr. Flynn.” Bonnie stood beside him with a practiced smile, holding a plate of neatly arranged fruit. “Is it alright if I sit with you for a bit?”
She asked sweetly, expecting the polite nod she usually received from men. After all, few ever refused her. But Ernest didn’t even glance up as he said, “I’d rather you didn’t.” His voice was cold, clipped, and unapologetically firm.
Bonnie froze. She hadn’t expected that from him. Not with her charm. Still, she stood there, the fruit plate trembling slightly in her hands, unwilling to retreat in humiliation.
Clenching her jaw, Bonnie gathered her composure and settled onto the sofa across from him. She placed the fruit plate on the coffee table, nudged it gently in his direction, and offered a polite smile.
“Mr. Flynn, please—have some fruit,” she said lightly. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I just picked a bit of everything we had.”
“No, thank you.” Ernest declined with a slight shake of his head, offering no further explanation.
Bonnie faltered, momentarily stunned by his coldness. How could someone be so unresponsive? Yet he wasn’t like this with Elissa. That only fueled Bonnie’s quiet resolve. The more detached he was, the more she felt compelled to conquer him.
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