The Man Who Never Looked Away novel Chapter 29

By the time they finished dinner, the rain had completely stopped. The floodwaters had receded, and the city's paralyzed grid was slowly coughing back to life.

Unwilling to leave the dog home alone again, Charley loaded Nemo into the back seat and drove her home.

After hitting her phone with a hairdryer at the restaurant, the device finally flickered on. Seven or eight messages instantly flooded the screen, all from Garnett:

[Lovell said he couldn't find you. Where did you go?]

[Stop throwing a tantrum and text me back.]

[Where the hell are you? Reply the second you see this.]

There were also a dozen missed calls.

She stared blankly at the screen for two seconds, making no move to call him back. Flipping the device over, she placed it facedown on her thigh.

Staring straight ahead at the road, Charley's tone was casually conversational. "Your husband?"

"Yeah." She forced a breezy tone. "He called a few times, but my phone was dead."

A brief silence stretched out.

"He certainly seems anxious to check on you."

"He is," she replied with a tight smile.

Silence fell again, filled only by the quiet hum of the air conditioning.

"When streets flood like that, there are dangers you don't even think about. Downed power lines, open manholes," he said quietly.

He paused, letting the words hang in the air.

"If anything like this ever happens again, just call me. It doesn't matter where you are, I will come get you."

She froze, stunned by the sincerity in his voice.

"If you don't want to worry Saul, you tell me," he continued, eyes locked on the road. "Stop trying to shoulder everything alone."

A sudden, painful burning prickled the back of her eyes.

She quickly turned her head, staring blankly out the passenger window.

For so long, she had been running entirely on fumes, surviving purely out of stubborn necessity. The moment someone offered her a shred of genuine warmth, it felt like finding a safe harbor—making her desperately want to collapse and let it all go.

But she couldn't. She had to keep fighting.

"Promise you'll call me?" he pressed, refusing to let it drop.

Keeping her back to him, she gave a stiff nod.

"Okay."

Waiting for the room to stop spinning, he finally muttered, "I'm fine. Just low blood sugar."

"Sit right here. I'm going to make you some soup."

"Don't bother." He bent down to grab his suit jacket, fighting through another wave of nausea.

Snatching the jacket from his hand, she tossed it back onto the sofa. "Listen to me. Eat something before you go."

He frowned in annoyance. Before he could argue, his phone screen lit up.

It was a text from Lavinia: [My phone died in the rain. I'm home. Don't worry.]

He stared at the short message for a few seconds before slipping the phone into his pocket.

Sigrid had seen the notification. She lowered her gaze, her voice trembling slightly. "Are you in such a rush to leave because you're worried about her?"

He offered no response.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I forced you to be a bad husband tonight."

He slowly sank back onto the sofa.

"You're staying?" she asked, her eyes brightening.