The Man Who Never Looked Away novel Chapter 84

"Nothing like that," Charley said evenly. He picked up his coffee cup from the desk, took a sip, set it back down, and stared out the window. His mouth remained a tight, flat line.

Lavinia picked up her pen again and buried her head in the test papers.

From the street below, the impatient honking of cars drifted in through the cracks in the window, rising in waves before quickly dissolving into the quiet room.

Charley crossed his arms, leaning back against the podium, silently watching her as she focused on her work.

Outside, dusk steadily deepened into night.

Lavinia kept her head down, her lashes lowered as the tip of her pen scratched steadily across the paper. She would pause occasionally, chewing on the cap of her pen in thought, before starting to write again.

***

It was pitch black outside by the time Lavinia finally finished the last question.

She dropped her pen, her wrist so sore she could barely lift it.

Charley took the papers and began grading them in silence.

"Come here," he ordered.

Lavinia dragged her chair over and listened as he went over the problems.

When he finished explaining the final question, he closed the packet and checked his phone.

It was eight o'clock.

Lavinia slumped over the table, burying her face in her arms, and let out a muffled, "I'm so exhausted."

"Want to go get something to eat?"

"I had some bread earlier, I'm full. I just want to sleep." She lifted her head, her eyes slightly red.

Charley looked at her but didn't say anything else. He stood up, neatly gathered her papers, and slipped them into her bag.

"Let's go."

Downstairs, the night wind hit them, carrying the damp, cool chill of late spring transitioning into summer.

"Wait here. I'll go get the car," Charley said.

"No need." Lavinia bent down and pulled a helmet from the storage compartment of a parked electric scooter on the sidewalk. "I rode my scooter here today."

She put on the helmet, fastened the strap, and patted the seat.

The electric scooter was white, covered in a dozen little bear stickers she had bought.

Charley just stared at her.

"Bye, Charley." Lavinia waved at him, twisted the throttle, and the scooter silently glided forward. The taillight flashed briefly before vanishing around the corner of the intersection.

He stood perfectly still, watching the direction she had gone. The wind picked up, scattering her lingering silhouette.

He stood by the bed, just watching her.

He remembered when they first got married, she insisted on leaving the lights on to sleep. He couldn't tolerate a single speck of light when he slept, so she had forced herself to turn them off, clinging tightly to his arm and shrinking under the blankets, shivering.

Eventually, he gave in and compromised, allowing her to keep one tiny nightlight on.

Had he ever actually comforted her back then? Had he even held her in his arms or patted her back?

He didn't think so.

She used to be so timid—afraid of the dark, afraid of thunderstorms, afraid of being alone. Now, she was sleeping all by herself in this room with a dim light and white noise, peaceful and quiet, not causing a fuss.

He looked down and noticed a strand of hair resting near the tip of her nose, fluttering slightly with every breath. He reached out and gently brushed it away.

He suddenly wondered—if they had had a child back then, what would their lives look like now?

...

His nose suddenly started to itch. He suppressed the urge, quickly turned around, and rushed out of the guest bedroom, gently pulling the door shut behind him.

He didn't let the sneeze out until he had walked into the master bedroom and closed the door.

He had been sneezing uncontrollably lately. He was far too busy to go see the doctor.

At this time of year, plenty of people had respiratory sensitivities. It was probably just pollen and allergens. It would pass soon enough.