If you love that woman, Sydney Hamilton, so much, then Ernest, I won't love you anymore, I don't want you anymore.
For half a month, Ivana's phone didn't receive a single message from Ernest. What filled it were nine-photo collages posted by Sydney.
Some showed them eating, some showed them shopping. Some showed Sydney baking a cake while Ernest helped on the side and some had Sydney smearing cream all over Ernest's face like a painted clown …
The latest post read: [My baby craving the taste from five years ago …]
Ernest's call came through, "Ivana, make one of your signature brownies and deliver it to Stellar Hotel, Suite 888 tonight."
"I can't." Ivana looked at her hands and, for the first time, refused Ernest's request.
"Don't forget who paid to open your dessert shop!" he threatened.
Beep ... before Ivana could reply, the call was cut off.
The next moment, a message came in: [Ivana, thank you for taking care of Ernest these past years. Now that I'm back, Ernest should return to me.]
Ivana gripped her phone tightly. For a moment, she felt her heart clench so hard she couldn't breathe. But gradually, she relaxed.