The assistant cast a cautious glance at Ernest. “Mr. Flynn, where should we head now?”
“The beach.”
As always, Ernest spoke those two unwavering words.
“Yes, sir.” The assistant gave a subtle nod to the driver.
The vehicle pulled away, its wheels humming steadily as it made its way toward the shore.
Several days had passed. The security barrier at the beach remained intact. Every day, Ernest returned, clinging to a fragile hope for news from the rescue team about Elissa and Locke. But there was nothing… only a silence that deepened his despair.
The weather was unforgiving. The sky sagged, heavy with storm clouds, while the wind screamed through the air.
“Mr. Flynn,” the assistant called out as he stepped forward, concern in his voice. “There’s a hurricane approaching, with thunder and lightning. Maybe it’s best you return. I’ll stay here for updates.”
Ernest looked at him briefly, shook his head, and then pushed open the car door.
Thanks to the assistant’s coordination, the security team allowed him through with little resistance. He walked forward, step by step. The plane’s wreckage still lay scattered across the sand.
He didn’t go near it. His feet carried him toward the sea.
The waves surged in, soaking his shoes, climbing up his legs. Yet he stood unmoving, eyes locked on the endless gray expanse. Since that terrible day, the tides had come and gone—each time stealing a piece of his hope. Elissa and Locke… the ocean might have claimed them. In those final moments… they must have been so afraid.
Ernest’s chest tightened, a raw ache rising in his throat. His voice cracked as he called, “Elissa! Locke!”
His love. His child.
Step into fiction with gα?ησν?so
He had failed them.
It was his fault—they had suffered because of him.
He knew Elissa had never wanted this life, had hated being labeled a mistress. She should never have been one. Nyla had already given her blessing to their relationship! Elissa was meant to be his wife. The one deserving to be a part of the Flynn family.
“Elissa…” His vision blurred, tears brimming as the salty breeze kissed his cheeks.
He murmured brokenly, “Please just come back, I won’t force anything anymore. Just return… please.”
Now he understood—some regrets just followed you to the grave.
He whispered, “I swear, I’ll never marry anyone else. It’ll be just you. We’ll be a family, like you dreamed, alright? Elissa?”
He cupped his hands around his mouth, yelling into the wind. “Elissa! Please! I’m begging you! Come back!”
His legs gave out, and he collapsed into the sand.
“Mr. Flynn!” The assistant, surprised, rushed to his aid, but seeing Ernest like this startled him.
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