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Chapter 89

Chapter 89

“Stuck solid!”

“It’s been rusted for years.”

“The ground’s raised too, burying the tap deep down.”

The onlookers chattered among themselves, but my gaze was fixed on Ernest.

I hadn’t expected him to lay flat on the ground, his temples and arms bulging with veins from the effort, a testament to his strength.

Yet, despite his attempts, the tap remained unmoved, his face turning a shade of red from the strain…

“Young man, don’t bother yourself any further. We’ve already had a few burly men try their hand at it,” Ethel, our neighbor, called out to Ernest, noticing his exertion and offering a word of caution.

My heart went out to him, “Ernest, let’s leave it. I’ll call someone.”

No sooner had I spoken than I saw Ernest relax, “Alright then.”

He quickly got up, dusting off the dirt on his clothes, “Let’s head up and check.”

The water was still rushing down the stairs, ensuring a pair of wet shoes, “Maybe wait till it slows down a bit.”

Ernest glanced at my shoes, saying, “I can carry you up.”

I blinked in surprise. “Oh, no, that’s really not necessary.”

My cheeks flushed with the words, aware that we had become the center of attention.

Ernest seemed to catch the hint of embarrassment. “I’ll go up and take a look. Give me the keys.”

He reached out, taking the keys from my hand.

That brief touch sent a shock racing through me. It was like being struck by

09:24

lightning. It was something I hadn’t felt with Conrad.

Conrad and I were too familiar, having grown up together, where holding hands. or hugging was the norm, so I never experienced that spark of romance.

Now, I think I understood what Conrad meant when he talked to Jefferson.

Ernest made his way upstairs, the water splashing under his steps, almost poetically.

I watched him until the neighbor asked, “Sweetheart, is that your boyfriend? He seems like a capable young man, really strong.”

“And he doesn’t mind getting dirty, diving right in,” another added.

“You don’t see many like him these days; you’re quite lucky…”

My cheeks flushed and my heart started fluttering.

The water soon receded, and I followed upstairs. The door was ajar, the floor

awash.

I tiptoed in, heading to the bathroom where Ernest was working on the tap, “This part’s cracked, probably corroded due to disuse.”

He was right; after so many years, corrosion was inevitable.

Silent, I listened as Ernest continued, “The plumbing in this house is all old and corroded. To prevent future issues, it’s best to replace everything.”

“Such a big job?” I was both surprised and a bit daunted.

“It’s manageable,” Ernest said as he removed the broken pipe, then turned to

1. me.

Noticing my wet shoes, he frowned slightly, handing me the broken piece, “You need to buy six of these connectors, a pipe wrench, twenty–two meters of PVC pipe, and four faucets; one for the bathroom sink, one for the kitchen sink, and two regular ones.”

I was momentarily taken aback, but Ernest thought I hadn’t caught all that, “I’ll text you the list, just buy what’s on it.”

“Ernest, shouldn’t we just call a professional?” The task seemed overly complex to me.