No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

Chapter 867
"Well, no need for thanks, really," Ernest said with a mischievous glint in his eye. "After all, you did take good care of my wife
while I was away."
He grabbed my hand with a playful flourish. "Come on, let's leave Mr. Smith to his thoughts."
I stifled a laugh with every ounce of willpower I had.
As we walked away, we heard Grant call out, "I guess I lost a love I never even had, huh?"
Ernest just waved a dismissive hand over his shoulder and led me back into the yacht.
I glanced out the window at Fanny and Sinclair sitting outside. "Aren't we going fishing?"
"When did Mrs. Collins become so oblivious?" Ernest teased, guiding me to the yacht's kitchen. "Let me cook you something
you've never tried before."
He gently nudged me into a recliner. "Why don't you rest for a bit?"

Ernest poured me a glass of water, lifting it to my lips for a sip, and then kissed my forehead before tying on an apron and getting
to work.
Lying back, watching him cook, I felt like I was in a dream. Maybe it was because he'd been gone so long, it almost felt like he'd
never been a part of my life at all. But here he was, and I was grateful he was back. Another day and I might have feared he'd
forgotten about me for good.
Thinking of Fanny's unwavering affection for Yates, I felt a pang of guilt. Compared to her, I was a bit of a mess.
I turned my gaze back to the window, seeing only Fanny's back. She was wearing
a man's jacket—Sinclair's, no doubt. It carried his warmth and his distinct scent.
Fanny wasn't really cold, but she couldn't refuse it, knowing Sinclair's stubborn nature. His time abroad had only amplified that
trait.

Leaning over the fishing rod, Fanny stole a glance at Sinclair. From her angle, she could only see his profile his neatly defined
brows, the strong line of his nose, and those deep-set eyes. He had a strikingly European look, like someone with a mixed
heritage.
She knew he wasn't biologically related to her grandparents, which often led her to wonder about his origins. But no way would

she ever dare voice those thoughts-he was just too handsome. Back in school, his looks had been a source of trouble for her,
with so many girls asking her to pass along love notes.
"Uncle," she called softly.
Sinclair turned his head slightly, "Yeah?"
She shook her head with a shy smile. "Nothing, just thinking how ridiculously handsome you are."
With that turn of his head, any woman would've been swept off her feet.
"You think so?" Sinclair replied, completely unfazed by the compliment.
Fanny nodded. "Yeah, makes you wonder what kind of stunning woman would be worthy of you."
She tilted her head, hair playfully tousled by the wind, eyes clear as she looked at him.
That was what comforted Sinclair the most—no matter how much she changed, her gaze remained untouched.
"My criteria for a girlfriend isn't just
about looks," Sinclair said, gently
brushi
a stray lock of hair from
her face with such ease it made
Fanny blush.
"Then what is it?" Fanny asked, trying to appear relaxed despite her stiff posture.

Sinclair's fingers lingered briefly on her cheek, his eyes soft and warm. "It's about who I like."