The One He Never Held novel · Chapter 4 of 24

Chapter 4: Friday Dinner

Damian texted me every night that week.

It was always the same: Good night.

I never answered. I read each one twice anyway, and then I turned my phone face down on Tim's couch.

On Friday I wore the dark green dress and drove myself to the Sorensen house.

It sat behind iron gates on the north shore, with a gravel drive and a fountain that Lionel switched on only for guests.

The housekeeper let me in. She did not meet my eyes.

Lionel was carving a leg of lamb at the head of the table, in shirtsleeves, with the look of a man who had done it a thousand times.

"Joanna." He put the knife down and kissed my cheek. "You came. I'm so glad."

"Of course I came."

Hailey flew across the dining room and hugged me so hard my breath left.

"You came," she whispered. "I told Daddy you would."

"Eat something," I whispered back. "You look like a ghost."

Lucille was already seated, in navy this time. She gave me a polite nod and no smile.

There were five place settings. The fifth was empty.

"Damian is late," Lionel said. "We won't wait. Sit, my dear, sit."

I sat on Lucille's left, across from Hailey.

Lionel served the lamb himself. He asked about Tim's café and the rain and whether I was sleeping.

I asked about his study lamp and whether he was sleeping.

"Like a log," he said, and laughed. "I'm an old man with a clear conscience."

I smiled and cut my meat.

Hailey moved a potato around her plate. Every few seconds she glanced toward the hall.

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