No More Waiting, She Chooses Love novel Chapter 43

That night, I was out like a light, sleeping deeply until the noise from outside woke me up.

It wasn't Ernest talking, but a woman with a thick local accent. You could tell from the voice it wasn't a young girl's. Girls have those soft, clear voices, while women's tend to be deeper and rougher.

I pride myself on being able to recognize people by their voices, yet I never saw it coming that the man I loved for a decade was nothing but a jerk.

People said you had moved on from someone when you didn’t always think of him. I guessed I was not there yet. I kept finding my thoughts drifting to Conrad, even if it was not love, maybe bitterness, but he was still on my mind.

I didn't get up. I just lay there, listening to the conversation outside.

"Ethel, where's Ernest?" the woman asked.

"He took off early this morning," Ethel seemed to be washing something. The sound of running water filled the background.

"Oh, I thought he was still in bed," the woman sounded amused.

"Fat Jean, what does it matter to you whether Ernest is up or not? He's not into you. Save yourself the trouble," Ethel was brutally honest.

Most people couldn't handle that, but the widow outside didn't seem to mind and even laughed, "Ethel, you don’t know anything. Men love it when you play hard to get."

I snorted with laughter, thinking this woman sure was confident.

"Well, all I know is he tossed you out like an old rag," Ethel didn't hold back.

"What would you know at your age?" Fat Jean seemed ticked off.

"I know enough to have some shame, enough to keep my dignity," Ethel's words earned my silent applause.