“Call off the wedding?” Hadley echoed, disbelief in her voice. She shook her head. “That’s not going to happen.”

Eric fell silent. He knew it too. But after a beat, he said quietly, “I have to try. You know what Ernest means to me.”

Hadley nodded slowly. “I do.”

They had both grown up under the Flynn family’s wing. And Ernest—despite everything—was still someone they’d admired for years. If there was a way to resolve this without betraying him, they’d take it.

If Eric could manage to convince Ernest… it would be the best possible ending.

“And… how’s Elissa doing?” Eric asked, shifting the conversation gently. “Her health—she’s okay?”

“No worries,” Hadley replied. “She’s responding well to treatment and doing everything the doctors say.”

“That’s good,” Eric said, visibly relieved.

Around nine in the evening, Elissa was on a call with Hadley when the door creaked open—Ernest stepped in.

“Alright, I’ll talk to you later… gotta go,” Elissa said quickly, her voice dropping. “Goodnight.”

As she ended the call, Ernest made his way to her side and sank onto the couch beside her. Without a word, he wrapped his arms gently around her from behind and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

“Who were you talking to?” he murmured.

“See for yourself.” Elissa lifted the phone in front of him, her tone flat. “It was Hadley.”

The screen still glowed, clearly displaying Hadley as the last contact.

In recent days, Elissa’s spirits had noticeably lifted. She was eating, resting, following the doctor’s advice—all of it thanks to Hadley’s steady support.

Your hub for updates: g?lnσνs?c?m

And for that, Ernest was genuinely grateful.

“Hadley’s been pretty busy lately,” he said, trying to keep things light. “Once you’re feeling better, maybe you can visit her. Catch up, spend some time together.”

“Let’s talk about it later,” Elissa replied coolly, her eyes not meeting his. The wall between them was still there—quiet, but thick.

Ernest arched a brow but didn’t press. He had his share of guilt to carry. If she wasn’t fighting him and was taking care of herself, that was enough for now. He believed that with time, her frostiness would melt. She’d forgive him eventually.

“You haven’t showered yet, have you?” He ran his fingers through a strand of her hair, letting it fall between his fingers. “It’s a little oily,” he said with a soft chuckle.

“Not yet,” Elissa said, her voice a little weary. “Locke was a handful tonight—refused the housekeeper’s help. He only wanted me for everything… homework, dinner, bedtime. He clung to me the whole evening.”

Ernest sighed, brows pulling together. “That boy… so mischievous. I’ll give him a talking-to tomorrow.”

Elissa shot him a sharp look. “A talking-to? He’s four, Ernest. Were you even well-behaved at his age?”

Ernest chuckled, conceding. “Point taken. You decide how to raise him.” She didn’t respond, but the corners of her lips tugged slightly.

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