Three Years Later, He Came Back Begging novel Chapter 113

Aiken glanced at his phone and picked up right away.

"Emergency meeting. Get back here." The call ended just as quickly as it began, not even giving him a chance to reply.

The apartment was so quiet Bonnie didn’t miss a word. Guilt started stirring inside her. She looked worried, maybe even a little uncertain.

"You should really get going. I’m okay now, honestly. I can take care of myself. You don’t need to worry about…" Her voice wavered off.

"Bonnie," Aiken cut in, his voice gentle but firm. "Eat your dinner and take your medicine. I’ll come back once I’m done. If you need anything, call me. Okay?"

He was halfway into his police uniform, still watching her with this kind of careful seriousness that was hard to ignore. "Don’t treat me like a stranger, alright?"

Bonnie couldn’t take his gaze for long. She poked the red dates in her millet porridge with her spoon and answered in a small, muffled voice.

She figured this probably wasn’t the right moment to say more.

Aiken didn’t linger. He hated leaving Bonnie like this, but the operation tonight was important. They’d spent days preparing, waiting for this chance.

When Aiken left, quiet settled back over the apartment. Bonnie ate her porridge, slow and steady, letting the warmth fill her even though she had little appetite. Still, she made herself finish every last bite Aiken had cooked for her.

A bit more energy returned, just enough for her to clean up and take her medicine. She washed up quickly and turned off the lights, crawling into bed.

She drifted in and out of sleep, sweating in her fever haze. At one point, she thought she heard furniture moving in the apartment next door. Her eyes flickered open, heavy and confused, sleepiness slipping away.

Bonnie reached for her phone and turned on the bedside lamp. It was already past nine.

Two unread messages stared back at her, one from Aiken and the other from Helen.

Helen’s message popped up first, checking in, asking if she was feeling any better, and wondering if the police officer was still with her.

Maybe once they talked it all through, she wouldn’t hate him so much.

It didn’t matter if nobody else understood him. All Lawrence wanted was for Bonnie’s protective, stubborn heart to open just a little, just enough for him to slip back in.

In that tiny crack, he thought, maybe he could find a fresh start, something that felt like coming back to life.

He leaned on the door for a few moments longer, lost in thought, then slipped into his own apartment, number 1207.

The layout was exactly the same as Bonnie’s place. Open floor plan, the same studio apartment, but his was stripped down to the basics. New sofa, new bed, clean cabinets, everything tidy and bare. The air felt cold and empty, but oddly, he felt a comfort in it.

Lawrence lay down, picturing Bonnie on the other side of the wall, maybe curled up reading like she used to. She loved all kinds of books, loved tucking herself into his arms, flipping pages with that intense focus of hers.

He smiled up at the ceiling, and for the first time in three years, he felt the slow, certain pull of real sleep.