Second Chance His Unending Love (Calista Hartwell) novel Chapter 130

Chapter 130

Since his parents’ divorce, Austin no longer felt like the

center of attention at home.

No one asked if he was hungry or in pain. No one comforted him when he was anxious or irritated. No one patiently helped with the countless daily tasks anymore.

The freedom Austin had longed for tasted like candy wrapped around something foul-sweet at first, then increasingly sickening.

Finally, Austin said, “My father pays you ten times what your colleagues make. He gives you extra for taking care of me here at the hospital. If you don’t want to come, just tell him. I can hire a nurse myself.”

Nicole didn’t even glance up. “Oh,” she said flatly, dismissing his words as she kept playing her game.

In that moment, she seemed more like a rebellious teenager than a caretaker.

A memory surfaced, sharp and unwelcome.

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Austin saw himself again, absorbed in the glow of a screen, Calista’s words dissolving into the background noise of his indifference.

Day after day, he had moved through the house wrapped in a sullen silence, wearing his unhappiness like a cloak, acting as though she somehow carried the blame for it.

Now, with a clarity that felt almost physical, he finally understood. He understood the quiet weight his mother must have carried.

Grimacing with effort, Austin pulled the container of cheese ravioli onto his hospital bed.

The cold food mixed with his resentment and tears as he

forced it down.

*****

Meanwhile, Evander had moved swiftly into action.

Inside an abandoned factory, the operation unfolded seamlessly-investigation, containment, arrest.

Heavy weapons, hidden by the traffickers, were disarmed

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and removed thanks to Evander’s advance planning.

No one in New York would ever know that beneath the city’s calm surface, a major human trafficking ring had just been dismantled.

Following the trail, Evander exposed their entire network.

“Stand down,” he ordered.

Connor fell into step beside him, grinning. “Another victory, Commander Hayes.”

“Credit goes to the team.”

A sense of lightness, almost buoyancy, filled Evander as he walked.

He was finally going home to Calista.

“Commander Hayes, we found some photos.”

A junior officer handed him a stack of pictures.

Flipping through them, Evander paused at one image of a young woman, his eyes narrowing.

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Her?

Curiously, he studied the photo for a moment.

Connor leaned in curiously. “Something wrong with that one, Commander Hayes?”

Evander handed it back.

If he remembered correctly, the girl in the picture was that young woman who’d been with Killian.

He’d seen her during the chess match registration.

In the photo, Nicole looked much younger-maybe fourteen or fifteen, probably from her middle school

years.

Why would a human trafficking ring have her picture?

“Secure the evidence and return to base,” Evander

ordered.

“Yes, sir!”

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“Connor, I need you to handle something for me,” Evander added as he strode ahead.

His deputy grinned knowingly. “Let me guess-it’s about Calista?”

A faint smile touched Evander’s lips. “What gave it away?”

Connor chuckled. “Every time you mention her, Commander Hayes, your eyes light up like a perver

What?

“If you can’t describe it, don’t,” Evander warned.

He wasn’t like some pervert-he was loyal, dedicated, entirely hers.

*****

Five days. That was how long Evander had been gone.

He promised seven, and Calista found herself marking time, her gaze fixed on the calendar as if staring could hasten his return.

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From the floor below, Alisa’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Ms. Hartwell? You have a visitor.”

Wondering who would seek her out here, Calista made her way downstairs. The sight that greeted her sent a jolt. through her system.

Connor stood in the entryway, looking every bit the man who had come straight from duty without pause. His uniform was dusty, his hair a windswept mess, and his features were set in an unreadable, stony mask.

Held carefully in his hands was a small, plain box, sealed envelope lying atop its lid.

A cold knot tightened in Calista’s stomach.

The combination—the box, the formal envelope, Connor’s solemn demeanor-triggered a wave of primal dread.

Her mind conjured images of official notifications, of personal effects returned. The world seemed to tilt.

Gripping the banister, her legs suddenly unsteady, Calista descended the final steps.

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Her voice emerged as a thin whisper. “Mr. Walsh? What is this?”

“Ms. Hartwell, Commander Hayes asked me to bring this to you,” Connor said, his voice oddly formal as he extended the items.

“I don’t want it!” The refusal was instinctive, visceral.

Her eyes remained locked on the box, a symbol of everything she feared. A crushing weight settled on chest, making it hard to breathe.

Alisa’s recent advice-“cherish the one you have”-rang with cruel irony.

Was he gone? Would she ever see him again?

Connor blinked, his stern expression dissolving into pure confusion. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of sudden uncertainty. Had his grave delivery frightened. her?

He said, his tone softening considerably as he attempted a reassuring, though awkward, smile, “Ma’am? The

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