Chapter 5 The Second Lock
Nathan lowered his head and said nothing.
Chloe turned to stare out the window. She bit her lip hard, drew a shaky breath, and forced herself to speak. “Then please take me to the train station or the bus station. Or call me a car. I want to go home. I want to see my parents right now.”
“Your old house was demolished a long time ago. I don’t know where your parents moved.” Nathan looked at her.
His hands had unconsciously clenched into fists on his knees. When he spoke again, he kept his voice steady, but only just. “I’ll ask around first. Wait a few days. Once I hear something, you can go.”
“Demolished?” Chloe echoed.
Her heart plummeted. Everything around her seemed to dim, leaving her adrift in the dark—alone, panicking, with nothing solid to hold onto.
The only familiar face left to her was Nathan.
Nathan, who was both the most familiar man in the world and the most terrifyingly foreign.
“I see,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
“It’s alright,” Nathan replied politely.
That formal, distant exchange only made it worse. It felt as though a thick wall had slammed down between them, sealing off their thoughts from one another.
Neither of them spoke for the rest of the journey.
Chloe kept her head lowered, clenching her jaw to hold back her tears and resist the humiliating urge to lean closer to him for comfort. But he wasn’t the Nathan she remembered. He felt like an entirely different person.
Half an hour later, the car turned into an older, slightly run-down neighbourhood.
Even in the dark, Chloe recognised it immediately. It was the house she and Nathan had bought together.
She turned to him in surprise. “Do you still live here?”
Nathan shook his head. “No. It’s close to work, so I come here sometimes at noon to rest. It’s maintained regularly. There’s water and electricity. Have a look inside. If you can stay here, then stay. If not, I’ll arrange a hotel.”
“Okay,” Chloe said softly.
He gave no hint that he intended to take her back to his real home. Of course not. That would probably be inconvenient.
“Mr. Archer, should I wait downstairs?” the driver asked quietly.
Nathan considered for a moment. “No. Head back. I’ll contact you later.”
“Yes, sir.”
The driver pulled away. Nathan lifted Chloe’s suitcase and led the way upstairs.
On the third floor, he unlocked the door and switched on the light.
Chloe glanced around.
The place was immaculate. The furniture and layout were almost exactly as she remembered, though the wood had aged and the walls had darkened over time. Seeing this familiar space loosened a tight knot in her chest.
“Come in,” Nathan said when he noticed her hovering by the door.
“Okay.” She stepped inside and sat on the sofa.
Nathan carried her suitcase into the bedroom, turned on the light, and asked, “Is this room alright?”
Chloe walked over to look.
It was the master bedroom. Their bedroom. After they got married, they had made love on that bed so many times she had lost count.
She glanced at Nathan awkwardly, but his expression remained perfectly calm. “It’s fine,” she said.
He set the suitcase down, opened the wardrobe, and pulled out fresh sheets. “I’ll change the bedding for you.”
“No, I can do it.” Chloe hurried to take them from him.
“I’ll handle it. It won’t take long.” He didn’t sound forceful, but he held the sheets firmly enough that she had to let go.
Nathan changed the bed with practiced efficiency, then went into the kitchen to boil water. After that, he grabbed a mop and began cleaning the floor.
At first, Chloe followed him around, unsure of what to do. But seeing how smoothly he moved, she eventually sat back down on the sofa to stay out of his way.
Nathan really had changed.
Back when they lived together, he acted like a pampered young master when it came to housework. If she asked him to mop the floor, he would whine and drag his feet until she lost her temper.
“Chloe, can’t we just hire a cleaner?” he would plead.
“No. Cleaners cost money. We just bought this place—stop wasting it.”
“I’ll earn more money later,” he would bargain. “Just hire one this time?”
“We’ll talk when you actually earn it.” She would tug his ear impatiently. “Now go.”
Only then would he reluctantly do it. And when he finished, he would come straight back demanding kisses and praise.
Watching Nathan tidy the flat now without a single word of complaint, Chloe felt a sudden, sour ache in her chest.
She turned her head away, unable to speak.
He’s this good at housework now… Did another woman teach him?
When he finished, Nathan poured her a glass of warm water.
“Thanks.” Chloe took it and sipped slowly.
Nathan sat down and watched her. He didn’t say anything, but his gaze was so intense it made her skin prickle.
Then, without warning, her stomach growled loudly.
Chloe turned her face away, mortified.
Nathan stood up immediately. “I was so busy cleaning, I didn’t realise you must be hungry.”
Chloe nodded, embarrassed. “Yeah. I’m hungry.”
“I’ll go get something. I’ll be back soon.” He moved quickly to the door, put on his shoes, grabbed his keys, and left.
The moment the door shut, Chloe let out a long breath of relief.
But before she could fully relax, she heard the sound of keys turning in the lock again.
Nathan pushed the door open and leaned halfway back inside. “I almost forgot. What do you want to eat?”
“Anything is fine,” Chloe said. Her thoughts had already drifted back to the other passengers from the van. She still didn’t know if they were safe.
“Alright.” Nathan gave her a serious look. “Stay right here. Don’t go out.”
“Got it.”
“Don’t leave,” he repeated, still sounding uneasy.
“Okay.”
She thought he would leave then, but he remained in the doorway, his hand on the knob, watching her.
“What is it?” she finally asked.
“Nothing.” Nathan shook his head, gave her one last look, and shut the door.
A second later came the sound of a key turning.
Then turning again.
He locked it twice.
Only after his footsteps faded down the hall did Chloe allow herself to fully relax, sinking back into the sofa and looking around the home she and Nathan had built together.
Back then, they had barely any money. They had bought buckets of paint and finished the rooms themselves. Over the years, Nathan had slowly added flooring, plants, and little pieces of furniture, turning a bare flat into a home.
For all his intelligence, Nathan had been utterly useless with his hands. He’d knock over paint cans and smash his own fingers trying to hang shelves.
“What exactly are you good for?” Chloe would tease him.
He would cup his face and look at her shamelessly. “But I’m handsome. And I’m pretty good in bed.”
“Oh my God, shut up.” She would pull him close and kiss him, and he would let her, smiling that faint, indulgent smile of his.
The memory tugged a helpless smile from her lips now.
To her, it didn’t feel like distant history. It felt like half a year ago.
Before she left for her trip, Nathan still loved wrapping his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder.
But then she remembered the stern, silent man who had just locked her inside this flat. He really had changed.
She sighed softly.
Suddenly, the lock clicked again.
Nathan pushed the door open carrying a plastic takeout bag. He was slightly out of breath, and his gaze locked onto hers immediately. “I got food. Come and eat.”
“Okay.” Chloe walked over to the dining table, took the bag, and opened it.
Inside was a Cajun chicken sandwich, four spicy tenders, and a large red beans and rice.
Chloe’s heart skipped a beat. She looked up at him abruptly, her voice trembling. “Why did you buy this?”
Twenty-three years ago, just before she got into that van, she had texted Nathan saying she wanted Popeyes for dinner.
Now, twenty-three years later, she had finally come home.
Could he really still remember?