No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

"Mr. Wagner, we're running out of time!" the flight attendant warned on the plane.

I was well aware that even private planes had schedules to adhere to, and making a phone call now would only delay us further.

"Forget it," I sighed, settling into my seat.

"Just a minute," Conrad interjected.

His remark was directed at the flight attendant, and with that, he handed me his smartphone.

I was taken aback by his willingness to let me make the call. Technically, he could have used this as an excuse to refuse, both personally and professionally.

I looked at him, puzzled. I couldn't help but notice that since his return from his mysterious disappearance, he seemed... different.

As I gazed at him in confusion, Conrad offered no explanation, merely turning to look out the window.

"Let's go," I said, passing the smartphone back to the flight attendant.

Conrad looked at me in surprise, and the flight attendant glanced at him, seeking his approval. After all, he was the owner of the private jet.

After a few seconds, Conrad withdrew his gaze from me and said coldly, "Take off."

The flight attendant relayed Conrad's instructions through the intercom, and the plane gradually ascended into the sky.

At that moment, Conrad's phone began to ring.

He glanced at the caller ID and then at me, probably assuming Ernest had noticed my absence after his shower and had decided to reach out. But with the plane already airborne, I couldn't possibly answer the call.

I took his phone, saw it was indeed Ernest calling, but I ended the call myself and switched the device to airplane mode.

As we climbed higher, the flight attendant offered me a blanket and asked if I'd like something to drink.

"No, thanks. I just had a late snack," I replied, feeling Conrad's eyes on me again as I turned to gaze out the window. The pitch-black night was unnervingly opaque.

Conrad and I didn't exchange a single word throughout the flight.

I didn't even ask him about the sudden illness that had befallen Herschel.

Upon landing, we rushed to the hospital, where Jacqueline and Dustin were anxiously waiting outside the emergency room. Seeing me, Jacqueline burst into tears her facade of strength crumbling

completely.

Jacqueline was usually the optimistic type, rarely seen in such despair, which only highlighted the severity of Herschel's condition.

"Felicia, Herschel is really in trouble. What am I going to do?" Jacqueline clung to me, her voice filled with fear and panic.

I understood that feeling all too well. The day I lost my parents, the first thing I felt was fear, incessantly wondering, what am I going to do now? "Jacqueline, it's going to be okay. Herschel will pull through," I whispered.

But Jacqueline continued to sob helplessly, her fear and sorrow gripping my heart.

She often joked about how she and Herschel had reached the point of familiarity breeds contempt, but now, faced with the possible end of his life, her deep attachment surfaced all at once.

I held her, trying to offer some comfort, while Dustin and Conrad stepped aside, presumably to discuss something.

After calming down a bit thanks to my efforts, I asked Jacqueline the question I hadn't asked Conrad, "Jacqueline, why did Herschel suddenly fall so

ill?"

Although his lung cancer was incurable and bound to worsen, it wouldn't have escalated so quickly without some external trigger.

Jacqueline shook her head, "I don't

know. He was fine these past few days. Tonight, after dinner, heContent is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

complained of chest discomfort et

tried massaging it for him, but it didn't help, and I felt something was seriously wrong. We decided to take him to the hospital."

"He said it was too late, that the doctors had already left for the day, and suggested we wait till morning. But then, he suddenly coughed up blood. I was about to call Dustin when, Mr. Herschel, you know..."

Dustin had warned me that Herschel needed to avoid any stress or agitation. I couldn't help but ask, "Did something upset Herschel recently?"