Chapter 1271:
Back on the boat, Malcolm glanced at his watch, jaw set with concern. Jeffry had already been underwater for more than ten minutes. Even with years of diving experience, pushing past half an hour in these waters could leave Jeffry permanently scarred.
Frustration boiled inside Malcolm. Even his steady temperament couldn’t keep the curses from slipping out. Today alone, he’d managed to outdo decades of restraint.
Abandoning his usual composure, Malcolm yanked off his glasses and plunged into the waves. With lungs filled, he dove beneath the surface, reaching Jeffry and dragging him back to safety.
Malcolm surfaced and gulped for breath. His shirt clung uncomfortably, waterlogged and suffocating.
No sooner had Jeffry broken the surface than he brushed past Malcolm, making another bid to disappear beneath the waves once more.
Malcolm’s patience finally snapped. He clutched Jeffry’s shoulder. “Can you stop for a minute, Jeffry? Just breathe and calm down, for God’s sake!” Malcolm couldn’t fathom it. What was Jeffry doing—trying to chase Lydia into death itself?
No sound escaped Jeffry. The sharp lines of his face had vanished, replaced by an unsettling blankness. His eyes had turned cold and hollow, empty of life. Nothing Malcolm said seemed to reach him.
Just as Malcolm gave up on hearing a reply, Jeffry broke the silence. His answer rasped out, low and chilling, with a hint of something unhinged. “If I hadn’t stayed so calm, I wouldn’t have lost her.”
His marriage to Evelyn had always been just a front—something orchestrated for the sake of business—yet every lie only drove Lydia further away until she was gone for good. Regret haunted him. The question of why he had ever let her slip through his fingers played on a loop in his mind, relentless and sharp. No amount of composure could save him now. If Lydia remained lost, he would surrender to the pull of the sea and let the depths claim him too.
Malcolm felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach, his hand unconsciously falling from Jeffry’s shoulder at the weight of those words.
Jeffry wasted no time and dove in once more, barely pausing for breath. Despair poured over him in cold waves. Moving almost robotically, he searched the murky water, desperate for any trace of Lydia.
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Cold water bit at Jeffry’s skin, yet he hardly seemed to notice as he plunged in and surfaced again and again, scouring the endless blue for even a hint of Lydia.
Having boarded the boat, Malcolm watched with a growing sense of concern as Jeffry tossed himself into the churning sea time after time, his search relentless.
Gusts of wind screamed over the waves, battering the vessel until it rocked wildly in the middle of the storm.
A shadow crossed Malcolm’s face. He could barely recognize this reckless side of Jeffry. What force could possibly drive a man so sensible to abandon all caution and gamble everything, even his own life?
Malcolm had always known that Jeffry loved Lydia fiercely, but he had never imagined the depth of that devotion. An uneasy suspicion took hold—if Lydia didn’t turn up soon, Jeffry might actually perish out here.
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