Three Years Later, He Came Back Begging novel Chapter 127

Lawrence tilted his head back, watching the sky turn a brilliant blue. Still, it felt like a heavy fog pressed in all around him, clouding everything.

He let out a deep breath. “I get it. You’re busy. Let’s find another day.”

“Alright. Oh, Lawrence, your—” Quentin started to say more, but the call ended abruptly.

Quentin heard the hum of an engine from outside. He stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, just in time to catch a glimpse of a Maybach gliding out of the driveway.

He hesitated for a moment, then decided to text Lawrence anyway.

Lawrence was driving, focused on the road. In the back seat, Hannah was curled up against Odette, eyes shut tight. Odette looked beyond drained, just staring out the window, her expression one of quiet resignation.

Lawrence glanced at his phone when a new message popped up but didn’t bother to reply. He just deleted it without thinking.

The rest of the drive passed in silence. When they got home, Hannah woke up, her face empty and cold. Jasper called out for his mom, but she didn’t even look at him. She ran straight upstairs and slammed her bedroom door shut.

Annoyed, Lawrence reached for his pack of cigarettes. He caught a glimpse of his son and shoved them back in his pocket.

Odette stepped forward and gently touched his shoulder. Lawrence stared straight ahead.

“Lawrence, maybe we shouldn’t rush with getting Hannah help,” Odette said quietly. “She’s struggling, and her moods are all over the place. I’m just worried that if we push her too fast, something bad will happen… Besides…”

Her voice trailed off. She stared into nothing, sounding tired and sad. “Actually, we owe Hannah and her mom. If I just stand aside and watch something go wrong with Hannah, I’m never going to be able to forgive myself. I have no idea how I’d face Jeniffer.”

Lawrence kept his eyes down, sunlight drawing out his shadow. The wind blew, making it quiver a little.

He remembered being just a kid, maybe five or six years old, when everything went wrong. Hannah’s dad, Aloys, a music professor, had an affair with his own student. They called it some kind of true love, discovered in the middle of a song.

But they were caught by other students, and word spread fast. The scandal ruined them both.

Jeniffer was burned, but Lawrence was completely fine.

Maybe she never got over it. In the end, Jeniffer took her own life and left Hannah in the care of the Lane family.

She left a note saying Lawrence wasn’t to blame, that she’d wanted to die for a long time because she couldn’t get past her husband’s betrayal. If it hadn’t been for Hannah, she would have been gone sooner. Now, she saw it as a kind of release.

When Jeniffer’s suicide note reached Aloys, he ended his life, too, leaping from the hospital window.

Hannah was nine then. She understood everything. At the funeral, she broke down in a way no one had ever seen, crying out, “Why did you leave me?”

She would have taken anything just to keep her mom and dad, even if they were broken or crazy.

Lawrence remembered that year. He was only six, but he reached out and held Hannah’s hand. He told her, “Hannah, from now on, my parents are your parents.”