The sky had completely darkened, shadows of the night thickly rolling in. The comfortable evening breeze now carried a trace of chilliness, causing Charlotte Thompson to pull her thin coat closer to her, her right hand gently supporting Henry Hudson.
Henry was already able to move freely, but he hadn’t walked this much in a long time, thus his legs were naturally feeling a bit sore. He thus slightly leaned towards Charlotte, looking for a slightly comfortable walking posture.
Charlotte wrinkled her nose, looking at the garden lamps that were gradually lighting up, gently spoke, "It’s late, Henry, let’s head back."
Upon hearing this, he slightly turned his head. His face could not be seen clearly in the backlight, he nodded, lifted his foot and agreed, "Let’s go."
After helping Henry into his sickroom, Charlotte only felt at ease after seeing him lying in bed. She turned off the light on her way out, quietly shutting the sickroom door.
The recovery of Henry’s health was, without a doubt, the best news she received recently.
The gloomy cloud in her heart was swept away, making her steps lighten as she descended the staircase. A smile tugged at her lips, bouncing out of the sickroom door.
Not too far away, a black Rolls-Royce quietly parked. The streetlight spilled a clear moonlike glow onto the road.
A man half-leaned against the car, a cigarette tucked between his index and middle finger, his upright figure seemed inexplicably desolate.
Charlotte’s steps slowed down, she touched her nose in surprise and questioned, "Why haven’t you left yet?"
Hearing this, she glanced at the man’s downcast eyes, her hand that was hanging by her side was nervously gripping her skirt. She carefully asked, "Have you been waiting for me here the whole time?"
Charlotte was clearly aware of how long she had been away and had planned to call Jack Bryant while coming downstairs.
But to her surprise, Justin Battleson had stubbornly waited till now.
This was indeed surprising.
He turned his head to look at Charlotte, his eyes were complicated, periodically flashing a spark, and his lips were tightly pressed together.
He was acting stubborn like a child.
His gaze was complex. He opened his mouth to speak but in the end, only sighed. He said quietly, "Get in the car, I’ll take you home." Content originally comes from N()velFire.net
Charlotte, pursed her lips and then got in the car.
The car quickly started and left the spot. During the ride, both remained silent, neither attempting to break the tranquillity in the air.
Charlotte wound down the car window, glanced at the bustling night scene outside, she contemplated for a few seconds before cautiously asking.
The man kept his eyes on the road, but Charlotte could still clearly feel a drop in the pressure around her.
It seemed he was suppressing some uncontrollable emotions.
On hearing Charlotte, Justin’s gaze lowered. His hand, which was on the steering wheel, gradually tightened, veins popping on the back of his hand.
But that only lasted for a few seconds, he managed to hide the complex emotions in his eyes and remained silent.
The scene of the two supporting each other and walking in the garden repeatedly played in his mind at a slower pace.
Seeing that Justin had no intention of speaking, Charlotte turned her head and fell silent again. Then, the eerie and elongated silence returned, broken only by the rustling wind.
Charlotte leaned back, feeling a bit confused.
Was she actually concerned about Justin Battleson?
She exhaled a hot breath, irritated. She was even surprised by her own question to herself moments ago.