No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

 Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

"Beautiful lady, could you help me out?"

The voice, aged yet distinctly feminine, caused me to snap my attention upwards.

There stood an elderly woman, her hair a silver testament to her years, eyes brimming with a plea.

"How may I assist you?" I responded, my tone laced with courtesy.

"Oh, dear, I was hoping you might treat me to a cup of coffee. I haven't had the luxury in quite some time due to my finances," the woman's words, unexpected, stirred a sense of compassion within me.

Without a moment's hesitation, I nodded, "Of course."

"Thank you, you beautiful soul," the woman expressed, gesturing towards my seat, "May I join you here for the coffee?"

In for a penny, in for a pound, I thought to myself. Having agreed to the coffee, inviting her to sit seemed only natural.

Just as I was about to consent, Conrad's voice cut through, "I'm sorry, ma'am, but might I suggest another spot for you?"

Turning towards Conrad, who I thought had left, I found myself momentarily lost for words.

In the brief pause, Conrad had already directed the woman to a different seat and pulled out some cash, handing it to her, "You're welcome to order the coffee yourself, ma'am."

Conrad's swift actions seemed to resolve the situation with the woman leaving without even ordering the coffee. Although confused, I didn't question it.

Watching the woman walk away, Conrad spoke again, "You saw that, right? Her true intent wasn't just a cup of coffee."

I struggled to grasp his meaning, "She was after money?"

"If you had let her sit here, ordered her that coffee, it wouldn't have been ten minutes before she'd start convulsing and collapse, triggering a call to the police. And you, having provided the coffee, would naturally be questioned," Conrad's explanation reminded me of a similar incident with Jefferson.

Feeling a chill down my spine, I still found it hard to believe, replying, "You can't assume everyone's intentions are so malicious."

Conrad frowned slightly, then pulled

out his phone to show me a video. It depicted a scenario almost identical to what he described, involving a woman named Ethel and a young girl

"Lately, there's been a surge in scams targeting compassionate young women," Conrad shared, leaving me speechless.

Perhaps sensing my naivety, Conrad changed the subject, "Did you arrive yesterday?"

My response was barely audible, a soft "yes," my gaze drifting to the scar marking his hand.

The memory of his accident,

indirectly influenced by our last

conversation, tightened my cho

His physical wounds were visible, but what of the others?

Conrad noticed my glance towards the coffee cup left by Mack, "Meeting someone?"

"Yes," was all I managed, echoing the brevity of my previous answers.

Conrad, pointing to the seat across, asked, "May I?"

"...Yes."

Conrad smiled, a hint of nostalgia in his voice, "Seems like 'yes' is all you have for me now."

As he took his seat, I found myself speaking more openly, "I don't know what else to say?"

Then, noting his thinner appearance, concern crept into my voice, "Are you fully recovered from your injuries?"

Conrad's eyes flickered, a soft laugh escaping him, "I'm fine, see? All healed..."

He paused, then added, "Felicia, the accident was my own doing, it had nothing to do with our conversation. Don't overthink it."

"I'm not overthinking. Besides, if

you're someone who'd risk their life over a few words, that would make me quite foolish, wouldn't it?

After all, I had loved him for ten years.

OUMS

Conrad's expression stiffened slightly, understanding the depth of my words.