But now, it finally dawned on him—Ernest was likely the man they were looking for.

He couldn’t help but think about how he and Ernest looked so much alike. There was no blood relation between them, yet the resemblance was uncanny. Eric had been told the Flynn family took him in precisely because he bore such a striking similarity to Ernest.

Fate could be oddly specific sometimes.

No wonder the little girl had clung to his leg, sobbing and calling him Daddy.

She must have mistaken him for Ernest.

Upon realizing this, Eric’s frown only deepened.

A memory surfaced—Ernest’s screensaver, the woman he cherished most, Locke’s biological mother. Ernest had loved her so deeply that he never truly accepted her loss.

It dawned on Eric that any woman close to Ernest was bound to suffer since none of them could ever truly have his heart.

In fact, he figured this woman must have already endured pain. Perhaps she knew all about Ernest’s history with Locke’s mother. That would explain why she had hurled the word jerk at him, seeing a face so similar to Ernest’s.

Eric now understood her anger wasn’t really for him—it was meant for Ernest.

The realization left his thoughts tangled and his mood uneasy.

Caught up in his own mind, Eric didn’t notice Ernest descending the stairs and studying him with a curious expression.

Ernest asked, “What’s on your mind? You look completely out of it.” He figured Eric might have been thinking about Hadley.

A trace of nervousness crept in as he lifted an eyebrow and asked, “Did you see anyone out there just now?”

Part of him hoped Eric had recognized Hadley, which would have been ideal. If that happened, maybe his lost memories would come back and everything would sort itself out without any more complications.

To his surprise, Eric’s face scrunched in confusion. “Who? I just got here… Morning, Ernest.”

L?tτ чh?ρτ?r? ιn gɑlοv?l?.сo

Disappointment flickered in Ernest’s eyes. It was clear Eric hadn’t spotted Hadley.

His patience frayed as he shot Eric a look. “Why are you even here this early? Did I invite you over?”

Eric’s shoulders dropped. “I thought we could have breakfast and maybe play some tennis together later.”

Ernest’s frown deepened. “Isn’t there food at your own place? And since when did I say I wanted to play tennis with you?”

“Come on, Ernest…” A sting of hurt crossed Eric’s face.

Eric hardly ever dropped by, and now Ernest was treating him like an unwelcome guest. “Come on, Ernest… I thought we were close.”

Hearing that, Ernest let out a cold chuckle. “You’ve been misled. We’re not that close.”

Eric stared at him, completely at a loss for words.

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